by L C Hayden
Roger continued, “We waited for about—” He looked at Norma for confirmation.
“Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes,” Norma said.
“Yeah, about that. Anyways, we got a call from a Detective Rory Duncan, the woman assigned to the kidnapping in Morro Bay. She asked us basically the same questions. We gave her basically the same answers. She knows we’re just two teenagers, and here we are, spinning this wild story. I don’t know if she really believed us, but she did say she’d look into it. I asked for her contact information and she gave it to me.” Roger opened his wallet and handed Bronson a folded piece of paper.
Bronson recorded the contact information on his spiral notebook, refolded the paper, and placed it inside the notebook. He returned his notebook and pen to his shirt pocket. “I couldn’t be more proud of both of you. You’ve done an outstanding job.”
For a second, Roger beamed and then he dropped his shoulders. His face became stone-like, an expression of dread. “This is it, I guess. You’re going away.”
“Not just yet. The three of us have one final task to perform before I leave.”
Chapter 64
The silence in the crowd hung like a cobweb in the spring laden with morning dew.
“Any questions?” Bronson asked.
A tiny woman Bronson had not seen before separated herself from the crowd. “First you tell us that we’re free. Now you tell us that we’re not allowed to leave or even go into Swanson’s office or the room where you were being held. That’s where Swanson’s body is, huh?”
Bronson nodded.
She thought for a moment. “Are we prisoners here?”
“No, ma’am,” Bronson said. “Soon as the police checks everythin’ out, you’ll be one hundred per cent free to leave—unless you’re guilty of somethin’. You have my word.”
Once again, silence reigned.
The same small woman raised her head, threw her shoulders back, and when she spoke, she did it in a loud, clear voice. “Bronson has done a lot for us. I, for one, feel that if Bronson gives me his word, that’s all I need.”
One by one, the residents of Eric’s Landing nodded and then cheered Bronson.
Bronson gave them a small wave and walked away from the crowd. He signaled for Roger and Norma to join him. “Are you two ready for the next part of the adventure?”
With a glitter in her eyes, Norma said, “I suppose so—whatever that may be.”
Bronson smiled. “We’re going back to the forest to retrieve our one third of the book which offers the best evidence about the sex traffickin’. Soon as the police arrive, I want Chris to hand them all three parts.”
“Why me?” Chris asked.
“It would look better coming from an adult, and I trust you.”
Chris nodded.
Bronson turned to Roger and Norma. “Ready to go?”
“Any reason I can’t come?” Chris asked. “It’s been so long since I’ve stepped outside of the compound, I was beginning to believe this is all there is.” He swept his arms, signifying the area within the fence.
“Wow!” Norma jumped with excitement. “My dad and I are actually going to have an adventure together.”
The group laughed.
“Hang loose for a few minutes. I’m goin’ to check on Aubrey. Make sure she’s okay. I can’t leave without sayin’ goodbye to her. I need to thank her for all she did.”
* * *
Half an hour later, the four stood together outside of the compound, each holding their third of the book. Bronson handed Chris his share. “Make sure that Jackson Brandt gets this book.”
Roger and Norma also handed Chris their share of the book.
“I will,” Chris said.
A vacant sick look covered Roger’s eyes. “I guess this is it.” For the first time, his voice sounded small. He looked at Bronson, and the smile that he forced in his face failed him.
“Yes, this is it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to see you again. I want to introduce you to my nephew in Pennsylvania. I’m hopin’ you can finish school where he’s at.”
Roger looked at Norma. “Pennsylvania? That’s so far.”
“Not if Norma and I are there,” Chris said. He wrapped his arm around his daughter. “I think it’s time that we go see Grandpa and Grandma Randig. What do you think of that?”
“I’d love it,” Norma beamed. “I’ve missed them so much.”
Bronson waved goodbye. “In that case, I’ll be seein’ you all in Pennsylvania.”
Norma’s cheeks turned red. “Mr. Bronson, sir.” She cleared her throat. “You won’t forget us, will you?”
Bronson shook his head. “How could I ever forget two brave, smart, and outstandin’ teens like you? No way.”
“I’m serious,” Norma protested.
“So am I,” Bronson said. “You two are really unforgettable.”
“I want you to be proud of me,” Roger said.
“I already am.”
“Okay,” Roger answered. “More proud. While we’re separated, I’ll focus on finding a way to finish my education. One day, I will graduate from high school and attend one of the country’s best universities.”
“Go for it.” Bronson gently hit him on his shoulder.
“Me, too,” Norma said. “I’ll do something special.” She thought for a moment. “I know. I’ll be extra kind to Grandpa Randig. I’ll spend a lot of time with him and help him anyway I can. After all, he’s the one who sent you to rescue us. All of this is because of him.”
“The fact that Roger stole that book, I think had a lot to do with it, too,” Bronson said.
Using her index finger, Norma touched Roger’s nose and winked. “That too.” She turned to face Bronson. “What about you, Mr. Bronson? What are you going to do that’s special that will commemorate this moment?”
Bronson shook his head and shrugged at the same time.
“Nothing you can think of?” Norma asked. “Surely, there’s something.”
Bronson thought for a moment. “Maybe there is. I have this terrible habit of droppin’ the final g in words endin’ with that letter. From here on, I’ll make an earnest effort to improve. “I’ll most definitely try pronouncin’—pronouncing--” He corrected himself and exaggerated the g sound.
Everyone laughed.
Bronson smiled. “Like I was saying. From here on, I’ll try pronouncing the words better. Would that work?”
Both Norma and Roger wore an amused look on their faces. “Sure,” they said in unison.
Norma cleared her throat. “I think it’s cute the way you talk. I like your accent.”
“That’s good to hear, because I’ll probably forget most of the time to add that silly g.” Bronson glanced at his watch. “Okay, enough chit-chat. If I’m goin’ to get out of here before the police arrive, I better do it now.”
Bronson walked away, his mind filled with thoughts of Ellen.
Chapter 65
From where Bronson stood, he caught a glimpse of The House, a huge mansion that loomed at the foot of the hill below him. Bronson felt that its black windows were eyes, staring at him. Watching him. Waiting for him.
He smiled at the irony. In essence, he was the one who was waiting. Waiting for the police to leave. Waiting for the commotion happening below him to die down. Waiting for the right opportunity to climb into the red Silverado. Waiting to speed away. Waiting to save Ellen.
He tried his cell one more time. Still no reception. How much longer would he have to wait?
Bronson straightened up. Several policemen had gathered outside along with a young teenage girl. Virginia? She pointed toward the top of the hill, probably reciting the same instructions Roger had given her. They nodded and followed her. If Bronson read it accurately, they would be walking right past him as they headed to the compound. As best as he could, Bronson hid behind a wide trunk pine tree and remained very quiet as the group walked past him.
Once out of sight, he descended the rest of t
he way down. He kept low and mostly hidden, just in case someone was watching. He approached the house and peeked in one of the back windows. He saw a huge master bedroom. From its opened door he could see some men moving around, possibly the last of the police recording the final details.
Bronson scooted over to the next window for a better view. Two men wearing civilian clothes covered the bodies with a bed sheet. They headed upstairs.
With keys in hand, Bronson grabbed the opportunity to dash toward the Silverado. He was thankful that it was parked far away from the house so that hopefully when he started the engine, the men upstairs wouldn’t even notice. He opened the door, slid in, buckled his seat belt, and sped away.
Since there was only one road to follow, Bronson had no decisions to make. He barreled down the mountain. The rocky but surprisingly well maintained path led to a state highway that with all of its potholes was probably in worse condition than the graveled one. Where the two roads intersected, a sign pointing south read Fairbanks, 34 miles.
Mentally, Bronson patted himself on the back. He had called that one correctly. He was in Alaska, but that posed a problem. If he got a direct flight to California, then all was well. But if the flight was routed through Canada, he’d have to face customs when entering Canada and once again when he reached the lower forty-eight. Chances were he wouldn’t need a passport, but he wanted to play it safe. If that meant showing his passport, something he didn’t have, then he’d remedy that now. Soon as he’d get cell connection, he’ll call Carol and ask her to overnight it to him.
Soon as he finished with that call, he’d contact Rory Duncan, the California detective in charge of the kidnapping. Hopefully, she had made some progress by now.
He would also have to call Mike to tell him about his ex’s kidnapping, and he wasn’t looking forward to that call.
Chapter 66
It had been a long twenty-six hours since Everett left Alaska, and he felt exhausted even though he had managed to sleep during the flight. In spite of being tired, Everett knew he had to be at his best. Bronson would be coming, sooner or later, and when he did, Everett planned to be ready. He wouldn’t allow lack of sleep to interfere.
The car rental attendant at the Morro Bay airport handed Everett the keys to the rental. He grabbed them, located the car, and sped away.
Everett was still adjusting the mirrors and putting on his seat belt when he made the first call. He began speaking even before Wright finished saying, “Hello?”
“I’m heading your way. Should be there in less than half an hour. Get hold of an explosion expert now. I want him there with all of his equipment when I get there.” He disconnected and began the short drive to the outskirts of Morro Bay.
He loved this area, everything from the rolling hills that would lead to his cabin to horseback riding on the beach. From behind him, Morro Rock rose at the edge of the bay 576 feet, the last of a line of long-extinct volcanoes that had formed about twenty-three million years ago.
Everett took a deep breath, allowing himself to enjoy this visually spectacular community for the last time. Since he had to die, what better place than his beloved cabin located along California’s Central Coast?
Being a man who always took pride in keeping his word, he reached the cabin in record time. He parked the car and stopped to stare at the pines that surrounded his cabin. He had them planted years ago, not to hide the breathtaking view of the ocean but more to conceal his precious cabin from prying eyes.
With eyes closed, Everett absorbed every detail of his Shangri La. The gentle blowing breeze that cooled his skin, the crashing of the ocean waves below him roaring, the sound of the birds singing above him—all of these details he would gladly take to his grave.
But even better than this—if such a thing was possible—was knowing that along with these wonderful memories he would also drag Ellen and Bronson to their graves.
Chapter 67
Sheridan and Nate ran down the walkway to greet Everett. “What brings you here?” Nate’s flushed face revealed his concern. “Is something wrong?”
Everett curled a smile that wouldn’t win him any beauty contests. “Hope you guys brought with you everything you wanted from Eric’s Landing. It’s gone, thanks to Bronson and those two punk kids, Roger and Norma.”
Nate and Sheridan, wide eyed, looked at each other as though eager to confirm that what they heard was only some kind of a bad joke. Everett’s expression told them they had heard right.
Nate’s face went from red to ashen. “What do you want us to do?”
Everett answered him with a question of his own. “What’s the status on the explosive expert?”
Just as Sheridan opened his mouth to answer, an old Ford van pulled up. The driver remained sitting in the driver’s seat, staring at the three men standing near the cabin’s entrance. Everett signaled for him to get out.
The driver, a man with wide eyes which were magnified by a pair of horn-rimmed glasses peered intently at Everett.
Everett cast him a smile that could dazzle anybody he chose to use it on. The driver lowered his shoulders as his lips barely moved upward. “One of you guys called me?”
Sheridan stepped forward. “That was me.”
“It’s sunny today,” the driver said.
“And it will remain so.” Sheridan satisfactorily answered the rest of the code.
Now looking relaxed and in control, the driver asked, “What is it that you want from me?”
“I want explosives in each of the windows. More on the back door,” Everett answered.
The driver let out a whistle. “You plan to blow up that beautiful house?”
“My plan is none of your concern. You have been hired to do a job. Now do it well and you’ll get paid well.”
“I’ll do the windows first and then work on the back door. But I want my money in full before I do the back door.”
“I see no problem with that.”
The driver nodded, headed back to his van, opened its back doors, and began taking his equipment out.
Chapter 68
Right before reaching the Fairbanks city limits, Bronson pulled over and parked. He was tempted to call Detective Duncan in California again. The last time he talked to her, Duncan told him they had a possible location of the cabin where Ellen might be held. They couldn’t move, however, until the judge gave them the search warrant. That had been—what? Maybe ten, fifteen minutes ago? Best if he left her alone. Let her do her job. Anyway, Duncan had promised to call him with any new developments.
Instead, Bronson decided to focus first on accomplishing the things he could do. Right now he had to make a decision: stay in Fairbanks or drive to Anchorage? He weighed both sides. It’d be best if he continued to drive south to Anchorage. It had a larger airport with more direct flights than those Fairbanks offered. He hoped, of course, for a direct flight, but more than that, he prayed he’d be free to fly with no interference. He felt sure the Alaska police wouldn’t allow him to leave.
Just to make sure that didn’t happen, he took out his cell and made one last call. “Harry Bronson, here,” he said once he had been connected. “I’d like to speak to the senator.”
“What’s the nature of your call?” the secretary asked.
“It’s on the personal side. But if you tell the senator that Harry Bronson’s on the line, I’m sure she’ll take my call.”
Bronson was put on hold for less than a minute. “The senator is busy right now, but she’ll call you back in less than half an hour.
Senator Eileen Garland returned the call sixteen minutes later. “Talk about a voice from the past.” Her tone, like the senator herself, was upbeat. “Never thought I’d hear from you again. How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine, thanks for askin’--asking.” Bronson bit his lip, dreading the rest of the conversation. “But I’m in a bit of a bind.”
“Knowing how you function, that doesn’t surprise me. But what does surprise me is that you
actually turned to me. I’ve always offered, but you’ve never accepted my help before. I’m glad to hear you finally did. Tell me about it.”
“Senator, what I did for you was part of my job, and I don’t like to cash in on favors for doin’ my job.”
“We both know that what you did for me went beyond your job description, and just as you did for me, I’d like to do for you. But know, of course, that I can’t make any promises until I hear the details.”
Bronson nodded even though he knew she couldn’t see him. He took a deep breath and briefly explained the last few days’ events.
“Sounds like you had quite an adventure, but, except for Ellen, it also sounds like you’ve got it all wrapped up,” the senator said once Bronson had finished talking. “So how can I help?”
“I’m heading to Anchorage where I’m hopin’—hoping to board a plane to Morro Bay. I know the Alaska State Police will want to talk to me. They might even have issued a warrant for me. But I really want to be in Morro Bay to help rescue Ellen. She’s there because of me, and it’s more than that. She’s like a sister to me.” Bronson paused for a moment. The tautness around his mouth told him he was feeling the stress. “If you could clear it with the police so that they don’t detain me, I’d really appreciate it. Like I said, after this is all over, I’ll come back and answer any questions they have.”
“I understand your dilemma,” the senator said. “But you’ve also got to understand that I have no jurisdiction in Alaska and much less over the police. That being said, I can tell you that the Alaskan senator is a good friend of mine. I’ll talk to him and see what, if anything, he can do.”
“That’s all I ask,” Bronson answered. They chatted for a few more minutes before he disconnected. Bronson pulled back onto the highway and headed toward Anchorage.
Under normal circumstances, Bronson would have enjoyed the scenery, but today finding pleasure in anything was beyond him. Instead, he grimaced with the tension of the moment.
