Game ON (An Ozzie Novak Thriller, Book 2) (Redemption Thriller Series 14)

by John W. Mefford

  “Shower?”

  “Yeah, long story. Been working long shifts on this stakeout. Doesn’t matter. What’s going on?”

  “They killed Denise, Brook. They fucking killed her.” I glanced at Virgil, who didn’t change his expression—just kept looking straight ahead.

  “What? Dear God, Ozzie, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” I gave her a twenty-second summary of Denise’s murder, how I found her and the video. Then I told her about the note and the second riddle.

  “Tell me the riddle again. It’s not really clicking. Wait, can you take a quick picture and send it to me?”

  “Good idea.” I pulled the note from my pocket, snapped a shot, and sent it off.

  I took another look at Virgil, who was now tugging on flaps of skin around his neck. He had a few to spare. But he was still stoic.

  “Got it yet?” I asked Brook.

  “Just came in.”

  I could hear mumbling, but that was about it. I gave her a good thirty seconds before I jumped back in. “Look, unless you’re some type of psychic, this riddle seems—”

  “Impossible,” she said. “I’m reading this to myself, and I don’t know what the hell they’re trying to convey. Apparently, it’s some type of location. Hold on a second. On this middle one, the birth of a nation…I’m wondering if they could be referring to Williamsburg, Virginia.”

  “That’s one I hadn’t thought about.”

  “Went there on vacation as a kid. It’s part of what they call the Historical Triangle, along with Jamestown and Yorktown.”

  “I guess I slept through that part of history. Anyway, while that’s good information, it makes me queasy. The number of possibilities just went up. And I think, ultimately, that’s the easiest part of the riddle to solve.”

  “It’ll be okay. We just need to think this through.”

  “Did you read the note? I’ve only got six hours.” Damn, I sounded like an ass. “Sorry. I’m just…”

  “I get it, Oz. I’m a big girl. Now’s not the time to worry about that crap, anyway. We have to be efficient in how we work to solve this riddle, get you to this location—gotta believe it’s somewhere on the East Coast—and hope and pray you can get Mackenzie. Now, for starters, I want us to be in sync with how much time we’ve got.”

  “Right. Makes sense.” Another picture of Denise being whacked across the head popped into my mind.

  “So, do you know the exact time you found Denise and the note?”

  I exhaled, then looked at my phone. “I’m guessing it was around 5:20 local time.”

  “Hold on. How would they know when that six-hour timer started?”

  She had a point. I hadn’t even taken a moment to think that through, my mind was in such chaos. “Not sure.”

  “It’s either a hoax—”

  “You know I can’t believe that right now.”

  “I was going to say that they could just be giving an estimated time.”

  That reminded me of the Jeep. I filled her in on that arm of the story.

  “You see, right there, they could be using that as their approximate time. Or they could have had eyes on you.”

  “No one else was there. At least I don’t think anyone was there.”

  “I mean a camera, Oz. They were watching you.”

  A cold chill went up my spine. It made sense. “Okay, I’m following you. Still, I’m guessing 5:20.”

  “So, we have until 11:20 tonight, Eastern time.”

  That left us with five hours and fifteen minutes. “Brook, I want to say this is possible, but right now, I don’t know how.” I could feel a quake in my chest. “I’m stuck in bumfuck West Virginia. I’ve got no wheels, no idea where I’m going, what or who I’m up against. And each passing minute feels like I’m losing an hour.”

  Virgil waved a hand in front of my face. I noticed we’d just made it into town. He started pointing off to the left.

  “You’re not in this alone, Oz,” Brook said.

  “Want to bet? They did this for me. You saw the note. This whole game was about setting up some type of test for me. Why? I have no clue. None. And that’s why I’m so fucking pissed right now!”

  Virgil was flapping his hand now.

  “What?” I asked, turning to him for a second.

  “I’ve got the solution to your car problem.”

  “Did I just hear that correctly?” Brook asked.

  “I think so.”

  Virgil pulled onto a snow-sprinkled gravel driveway that ran along the side of a house. “Well, you deal with that and get on the road,” she said.

  A bit of hope refreshed my brain. “Listen, Brook, I know I’ve said we can’t afford to bring in anyone else to help find Mackenzie. But I’m not sure we have that luxury any more. I think we’re going to have to take that chance.”

  “I was going to do it anyway.”

  “Thanks…I think.”

  “You know the saying: it’s easier to ask forgiveness than to beg permission.”

  I told her I’d call her when I was headed east. As I ended the call, I slipped out of the pickup and saw Virgil throwing the furniture from the back of the pickup into the front yard of the house.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s my son’s furniture. He’s in there playing video games. He can get his lazy ass off the couch and come out and get it.”

  “Do you need any help?” I was still waiting to hear his solution for my car issue.

  He didn’t respond, so I jumped up into the bed and helped him unload a couch, a dresser, and three boxes. “Give me a minute,” he said before disappearing inside the house.

  Just thirty seconds later, he was walking back out, a large coat in his hands. He tossed it at me. It was one of those North Face coats.

  “Put that on. It’s Junior’s, but he doesn’t have any sense to wear the damn thing. It’ll keep you warm just in case the Beast gives you a problem.”

  “Do what?”

  He extended his arm, dangling a key chain in front of my face. “Come on now. You’ve got to get on the road. I heard you. You need to get to somewhere on the East Coast.”

  “But that’s your car, Virgil.”

  He took two paces and grabbed hold of my arms. “You have a missing daughter. There’s apparently already been one death. Her mother, I’m guessing. Don’t question this. I thought my daughter had been kidnapped years ago. Turns out she was just at a friend’s house. But for a few hours, I thought my insides were going to disintegrate.”

  I grabbed the keys from his hand as a surge of emotion creeped into the back of my throat. “I’m not sure what to say except ‘thank you.’ Thank you so much. How can I get the truck back to you?”

  “Worry about that later, once you get Mackenzie back. You get her back, I’ll be the second happiest guy in the world. Now go on and get out of here.”

  He pulled me closer and thumped my back twice.

  Wearing my new coat, I blew out of Elkins, almost daring Sheriff Kupchak to pull me over.

  33

  By the time I passed Peggy’s Diner on Highway 33, I’d already spoken to Brook twice. The first call was to confirm my general direction. We agreed I should head straight for DC. If later we decided I should veer south toward Virginia, I wouldn’t lose that much time. If, however, the answer to all of this riddle crap was in Philadelphia, or even worse, Boston, then a miracle would be required to get me there on time.

  I tried not to think in terms of miracles. Counting on miracles was counting on something I couldn’t control. As it was, I was dictating essentially nothing in this process.

  The second call from Brook was to notify me that I would be receiving another call shortly. It would be on a secure line—as secure as one could be, considering I was on an open cell. “Secure line” meant the FBI was involved. The conference call would include Brook, Stan, and Nick. It gave me a needed boost that I wasn’t in this alone, but uneasiness came with it. “These people have be
en one step ahead of me this entire time. Like they predicted this whole scenario. Do they not know, Brook, that you’re friends with Stan, whose cousin works for the FBI?”

  “If they do know, I’m sure you would have heard about it by now. On top of that, I’ve been informed that the FBI’s involvement is off the books. For now, just Nick. If it expands beyond that, you’ll know about it. If you’re not comfortable with it, then we won’t make the move.”

  I had to admit, she was right. We’d ended the call, and I continued my trek to DC, going as much over sixty as the Beast would allow without slipping on the snowy roads. Every half mile or so, I’d feel the back end swing around—a signal that I’d run the pickup across a patch of black ice—and I’d literally break out into a sweat until all four tires were firmly gripping the road.

  The line rang, and I punched up the call and put it on speaker. Stan did the quick introduction to his cousin, Nick. They sounded so similar—some type of Brooklyn accents—it was difficult to distinguish their voices. At least it was for me.

  “You’re headed for DC, correct?” Nick asked, not wasting time with pleasantries.

  “Yes,” I said. “I should be there in three hours and fifteen minutes. Brook, how much time do I have left in my six-hour window?”

  “Just under five hours.”

  “How much under?” I asked.

  “By thirty seconds.”

  “I don’t mean to nitpick you, but—”

  “I know, every second counts, Oz.”

  “All right,” Nick said. “Brook sent us the picture of the note. I’ve read it over a couple of times. Before I offer an opinion—Stan or Brook, you got anything?”

  “I’m thinking Philadelphia,” Stan said. “The First Continental Congress met there; they wrote the Declaration of Independence there. To me, it would make perfect sense for people to think that’s where the birth of the nation started. I think Ozzie should veer north and head toward the City of Brotherly Shove.”

  “It’s Love, Stan,” Brook said.

  “We’re from Brooklyn. When I’m referring to Philadelphia, I say shove. Nick gets it.”

  “Yeah, sure,” Nick said. “Glad you paid attention in your US history class, Stan.”

  “You kidding me? I just jumped on the Internet.”

  “Fine. But we can’t look at this through a single lens.”

  “Agreed, but I think Stan’s taking the right approach,” I interjected. “Less guessing, more gathering of facts. Denise and I did the same thing when we were sitting in LAX trying to figure out the answer to the first riddle.”

  A momentary pause in speaking. I looked at the phone to make sure the line hadn’t disconnected.

  “That gives me another idea, Ozzie,” Nick said.

  “And that is?”

  “When Stan first called me to discuss the situation, my first thought was to bring in an FBI colleague and probably my closest friend, Alex Troutt.”

  I could feel my body tense up. “Why, Nick? I know you’re very experienced; you were even at Camp Israel, helped save all of those people, from what I read. Are you not confident in your abilities?”

  “It’s not that. Well, kind of. We have very little time. We need to decipher this riddle. But the fact they chose Camp Israel for this last production, I think, is very significant.”

  “So what does this Alex guy have that you don’t have?”

  “It’s a she. And her mother was held captive at Camp Israel for over thirty years. She’s the one who pushed us to get into that camp, to save those people. Without Alex, there would have been a massive slaughter of people. As it was, she lost her mom. It was tragic, but she knows her shit better than anyone.”

  I looked at the long, dark road ahead of me. We’d been on the phone for just a few minutes, and to a degree, it seemed like none of them knew more than I did. Probably a harsh assessment, but the pressure inside me was reaching a boiling point.

  “Bring her in, Nick,” I said.

  34

  The moment I heard Alex speak, something made me pause. The timbre of her voice sounded familiar somehow. Within seconds, I could sense her obvious leadership qualities. “I need a complete status,” she said, a roaring sound in the background. “But give it to me in thirty seconds, Nick. Go.”

  Nick did just that, and he did it with remarkable accuracy and brevity.

  “Ozzie, first of all, I can’t tell how you how sorry I am to hear what happened to Denise,” Alex said. “I’m sure you’re feeling about a hundred different things right now. I’ve been there. We’re not going to leave your side. We will figure this out.”

  And just like that, I felt another rush of emotion. It was for Denise, for the desperation of finding Mackenzie, and for people, basically strangers, saying they had my back.

  “Much appreciated, Alex. Any ideas on this riddle? The clock is ticking, and we’re not sure where I should go.”

  Another roar from the phone. It sounded distorted. I turned down my hearing aid a bit.

  “Sorry. I’m at Luke’s basketball game. Let me get out into the hallway.”

  It sounded like she asked someone to come along with her, but I couldn’t be certain.

  “So, Oz, Nick was right to bring me in. He told you about my connection to Camp Israel, yes?”

  “He did. I can’t imagine what you went through for all those years.”

  “It was crazy, I’ll grant you that. I’m bringing it up because of this first part of this new riddle. Where the Prophet was first swaddled. Taking Camp Israel out of the equation, you might think of someone from the Bible or some other religion. Putting Camp Israel back into the equation, when you think about it, Moses wasn’t born in Maryland. So it makes sense that they’re not referencing anyone from two thousand years ago. This has to be more recent.”

  “Malachi?”

  It was another man’s voice.

  “Who is that?” I quickly asked. “Nick, did you add someone else to this call without me knowing?”

  “Not me. I think that sounds like—”

  “Sorry, Oz,” Alex said. “My, uh, boyfriend, Brad, is right here next to me.”

  I immediately felt steam coming off my head. “I thought we were keeping this just between us. Now we’re adding in boyfriends. What’s next? Video streaming live on Facebook?”

  A moment of silence.

  “Hey, Oz. Brad is cool,” Nick said.

  “I’m sure he’s Joe Cool. It just makes me nervous, that’s all. The larger the group, the higher the likelihood of something getting out.”

  “Nothing will get out,” Alex said. “I guarantee you that.”

  Another definitive comment from the boss lady. I didn’t respond.

  She continued. “Ozzie, look. We want you to get your daughter. I’m willing to halt everything I’m doing to make that happen. But Nick knew this would come up. We have a tight group of people we work with here, and I trust all of them with my life. They’ve come through every time. Without question.”

  “No offense, but your boyfriend? I mean, what’s he going to do? Make you coffee? Rub your feet?”

  I thought I detected a sigh. Might have been more crowd noise.

  “Oz,” Brook said, “give her a chance, dude. This is our best hope.”

  “Okay, okay. Talk to me.”

  “Brad is my boyfriend, yes, but he’s also the best damn intelligence analyst the FBI has.”

  Now it made sense. The ultimate office romance. How long will that last? I wondered but dared not say.

  “Okay, so Brad knows his shit. I guess you can add him to the mix.”

  “There’s one more person we need to involve,” Alex said.

  “Don’t tell me. Your son isn’t just a kid playing basketball; he’s got superhuman powers like one of the kids in The Incredibles.”

  “Damn, you’re snarky,” Stan said.

  “Sounds just like Alex,” Nick added. “The queen of sarcasm.”

  “Me or her?” I said, almo
st laughing. “Forget it.”

  “Are you guys done yet?” Alex asked. “So, the person I want to bring in is a technical wizard. On top of that, her brain essentially operates like a supercomputer. Her name is Gretchen. She’s our top SOS.”

  “SOS,” I said. “That seems appropriate.” There were a couple of snickers at that one.

  “Nick, can you—”

  “I’m sending Gretchen a text right now,” he said.

  It was like watching the Justice League assemble before my very eyes.

  “Now, can we get past our team and move on to the business of getting your daughter back?”

  “Please.” I pulled my fingers from the steering wheel and wiped them on my jeans. Hands back on the wheel, I did a little stretch of my back; it felt like a pole had been inserted in my spine. I tried to relax, but it didn’t do much to ease the stabbing pain.

  “Back to the riddle. We were talking about the Prophet and how I think it might be connected to Camp Israel.”

  “I got that part. What about Malachi? That’s a book from the Old Testament, I think,” I said.

  “It is, but he was also the leader of the group at Camp Israel.”

  “Is this Brad?” I asked.

  “That’s me, yes.”

  “Brad, two things,” Alex said. “First, I need you to find out where Malachi, a.k.a. Eldridge Kaufman, was born. Second, after that, we need to figure out what federal prison he’s in and make sure he’s still there.”

  I was about to speak up, but Alex had one more order. “Wait. Before all that, go find Erin. Tell her she needs to bring Luke home after the game. Guys and Brook, Brad and I will start to head home. We’ll stay on the line, but we’ll work better from there.”

  “I didn’t know Erin was driving on her own,” Nick said. “I mean, she’s only sixteen.”

  “That’s the legal age to drive, Nick,” Alex said sharply. “She stays close to home and can drive with no more than one friend in the car. I just hope she can get Luke home without them starting World War III. But that’s a normal problem.”

  The line was silent for a few seconds. It sounded like the wheels were in motion to make progress. But where it would take us, if it would get me to this mystery location by the deadline, I had no idea. My confidence level right now wavered anywhere between ten and ninety percent, depending on the thoughts flashing through my mind at any given moment.