Perilous (YA Suspense)

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  Ricky spoke to Sara around a mouthful of food. “What’s your name? I can’t remember.”

  She took the sandwich he offered her. “Sara.” Her eyes met his and she looked away.

  “Hi, Sara.” He bumped her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Sara. So, where are you guys from?” He unwrapped his second burger and took a huge bite.

  “We’re from Idaho. We walked here.” Amanda tapped her fingers on the table.

  “You walked? That’s posh. So how old are you guys?” He took another bite of his hamburger.

  Neal sat down in the booth behind them. In stark contrast to his twin, Neal ignored his food. He stared out the window for a moment, rubbing his chin.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Jaci asked, nodding at Neal.

  Ricky turned and patted Neal on the shoulder. “He carries the world on his shoulders. Heavy burden.”

  Neal left his booth and came to join them. He sat down by Sara.

  “What about you?” She lifted her brows toward Ricky. “Don’t you have any responsibility?”

  Ricky eyed her and took a long sip of his soda before answering. “Nah. I avoid it like the plague.” He nodded at her. “But you never answered my question.”

  “She’s fifteen,” Amanda said. “So am I. We’re the oldest.”

  Ricky reached over and fingered her hair. “Your hair is really red.”

  “It’s actually auburn, but if that’s a compliment, thanks,” she said with a quick grin. “And how old are you?”

  “We’re seventeen,” Ricky answered, sitting back and taking another bite. “Our birthday was in August. So you guys walked here from Idaho? Intense.”

  “Well, not exactly,” Jaci said. “It’s a long story.”

  He shrugged. “You’ve got time. And you haven’t told me your name yet.”

  He picked up some matches from the center of the table and began fiddling with them. Neal slapped them back down.

  Time. Time was not something they had. Her brow furrowed, the urge to get moving again making her fingers twitch. “Jaci. My name’s Jaci.” She picked up her trash.

  Sara ran a hand over the table. “We’ve been here too long. Trouble follows us.”

  “Well.” Neal stood and reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “If you’re really serious about leaving, you’re going to need more food, aren’t you?”

  He nodded at the deli behind them. “Pick out a few things for the road. We’ll walk with you until you leave town.”

  Chapter 21

  Back in the street, they heard a siren wail. “That sounds close,” Sara said.

  A column of smoke ascended from a group of houses on the next street. Neal and Ricky exchanged glances before sprinting toward the fire. The girls ran after them.

  The twins stared at the blaze that consumed their house. Two fire trucks were already there, but it was obvious that the fire had had its way with the dusty, dry house.

  “The house,” Ricky moaned, digging his fingers into his brown hair.

  “How did this happen? I saw you put the firecracker in the bucket.”

  “Neal, I’m sorry. I took it out when I went back in for the wallet. I just wanted to dry it out. I didn’t think it would explode!” Then he snapped his fingers. “The power outlet was sparking yesterday. I must’ve left it too close.”

  “Idiot.”

  The two stood there a moment, and then Neal backed away. “Come on.” Keeping their eyes on the ground, he and Ricky moved down the sidewalk.

  Amanda blinked, frowning. “Aren’t you going to stick around? What about when your parents get home?”

  “Or your grandma, or whoever,” said Jaci, joining in.

  “They’re not coming home,” Ricky said. “It’s not even our house.”

  Jaci gasped, and Amanda said, “What?”

  “We lived in that house with our grandmother,” Neal said. “The state gave it to her. Then Ricky started having problems. They talked about separating us. Well, our grandmother died two weeks ago. We knew what would happen if the state found out. So we—” he gestured helplessly. “We had the body cremated and didn’t tell a soul.”

  Jaci frowned. Was it that easy to cremate a body? “Didn’t they ask questions?”

  Neal shook his head. “Why would they? We had all the right information. Her social security card, date of birth, date of death. We had to sign a waiver saying we didn’t want an obituary printed. We were doing a good job of not getting noticed.”

  He sent Ricky a murderous look. “Especially since the police always have an eye on Ricky.”

  “Police?” Jaci looked at Ricky. “What have you done?”

  “Just problems with school.”

  “That’s it?”

  His hazel eyes focused on her, a flash of anger crossing his features. “What are you, a judge?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to back down. “You lied to us. I want to know what kind of people you are.”

  “We’re good people,” Ricky replied, holding her gaze. “We make mistakes, like everyone else.” He cracked a smile. “Me more than Neal.”

  “Well, I think you just broke your probation,” Neal said. “We better get out of here before they find you and throw you in jail.”

  “Do you have money?” Jaci asked.

  “We’ve been using Grandma’s stash in the cookie jar,” Neal said. “I have a credit card, it’s Grandma’s card but it has my name on it. She had a savings account, but we can’t get into it. The state would probably put it in a trust fund for us, but we’d have to go to foster homes until we’re old enough to take it.”

  “Is your credit card paid off?”

  Neal nodded. “The bill’s paid in full every month from Grandma’s checking account. I don’t know how long we can use it. Once the payment bounces, the credit card is no good.”

  “Why don’t you take out a cash advance?” she asked.

  Neal shook his head. “I don’t have a PIN authorized to do that.”

  “What about you?” Jaci asked Ricky. “Do you have a credit card?”

  He made a face. “I guess that comes with the whole responsibility thing. Never wanted any, so I didn’t get a card.”

  “Do you want to come with us?” Sara asked, directing the question at Neal.

  Jaci spun to look at her. Kind of sudden, wasn’t it?

  “Huh? With you?” Ricky said.

  “Are we still going?” Amanda asked, looking disheartened. “I thought we’d stop by the police station here, and, you know… go home.”

  “No police,” Ricky said. “Or did you not catch that part of the story?”

  “And Ricky’s on probation,” added Neal.

  “We’re not going to the police,” Sara said.

  Jaci pressed a hand to her temple. “Wait, wait, wait. We haven’t decided anything yet.”

  Sara looked at her and repeated, “I’m not going to the police.”

  “Me neither,” echoed Ricky.

  Jaci frowned at Sara, then glanced back at Ricky and Neal. “Excuse us a moment. We need to talk.”

  She grabbed Amanda’s forearm and motioned Sara to step back.

  Amanda jerked her arm away. “Are we going to the police or not?”

  “Not.” Sara crossed her arms over her chest. “Go without me if you want.”

  “Sara,” Jaci sighed, exasperated. “Why are you being so stubborn? And why did you invite the boys to go with us?”

  “They need a place to go. They can protect us.”

  Amanda leaned forward. “They have money. We almost double our numbers. We’ll be safer.”

  “Safer.” Sara nodded. “It’ll be good for us.”

  Jaci said, “Okay. But at some point—” she looked at Sara—“we are going to the police.”

  She spun back around, lifting her chin and directing her words to Neal. “We’re getting out of here, and you should come too.”

  “Hey, why not?” Ricky shrugged. “We’ve got nothin
g to lose. I don’t know camping, but I can start a fire. And if we’re trying to avoid people—out there’s the best place to do it. You can go for days without seeing anyone.”

  “All right,” Neal said. “We leave here now. Everyone knows everyone here, and they’ll be looking for us. You know our story; what’s yours?”

  “Not here,” said Jaci. “Wait ’til we’re out of town.”

  He pointed at the plastic bag in Sara’s hand. “That’s not going to be enough food. We’ll have to get more.”

  “We’ll be spotted,” Ricky said, eyes flicking around them.

  “We have to get food,” Neal insisted. “We’ll send one of the girls into a store. Buy one of those reusable bags and get as much food as possible.”

  Jaci wished she hadn’t tossed their other shoulder bag. “All right. But let’s hurry.”

  Two hours later the city was behind them and the forest engulfed them once again. The boys didn’t say much as Jaci and Amanda told them their story. Of course they didn’t mention anything that had happened to Sara. That was Sara’s business, if she wanted anyone to know.

  And Callie. They had left out Callie.

  October 4

  Dallas, Texas

  International Accounting Alliances.

  Carl stared at the one-story, white-washed building in front of him. About the same size as a trailer home, it wasn’t what he expected from a firm with an international presence.

  A quick glance around the parking lot showed only three other vehicles. An old blue and white pick-up, a green Volkswagen, and a long red Thunderbird.

  Carl got out of his rental car and felt suffocated by the humid Dallas air.

  The door to the building was locked. Carl worked the knob several times before giving up. He tried to see past the closed blinds on the windows and walked around the building. All the doors and windows were locked. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the Dallas police.

  A moment later a young, alert voice said, “Dallas police department, Sergeant Green speaking.”

  “Sergeant Green, I’d like an expedited search warrant. Who should I speak to about that?”

  While he waited for his search warrant, Carl sat in the shade of a sycamore tree and watched the building. No sign of life. No one came out or went in. Carl had already formed his opinions, and he doubted that anyone worked here.

  When the police arrived with the search warrant, he went to work forcing his way into the building. The inside looked like a school cafeteria. Long tables with attached benches lined the room from front to back. A desk in the back had a computer on it.

  Carl crossed to it, noting the dust collecting on the surfaces. An old phone sat by the computer. He took it from its cradle and checked the dial tone. Hanging up, he pushed the ‘on’ button on the computer and the screen lit up. The familiar Windows music blared out of the speakers and a login prompt appeared.

  Now what? He knew for a fact that Gregorio Rivera hadn’t gone to the University of Pedrita. But that didn’t make the man a criminal, only a liar.

  He was also very certain that the man didn’t work for Accounts whatever. Again, that didn’t make him a criminal. But it did make it very suspicious that he had been gone the very weekend his daughter disappeared. Gone on a business trip for a fictitious company.

  Carl needed to see that background check. But he knew it could be a few weeks before it came back.

  Carl opened the desk drawers. Empty. The only other room was a bathroom.

  He scanned the small bathroom and was about to leave when he saw a sliver of paper poking out under the mirror. He touched the glass. A medicine cabinet. Opening it, he found a sheet of paper taped to the inside. Handwritten dates and events covered it, with several of them crossed out by red ink.

  It was the fourth line down that caught his eye: “February 17. The Hand and Cisnero. Guadalajara, Mexico. Orange and Purple.” A red line marked out the phrase. All the lines were crossed out, except the last four.

  Carl stared, trying to make sense of it. His eyes ran down the sheet, stopping at another line. The penmanship was difficult to read, as if written in a hurry: “September 12. Nikolai. Rogaland, Norway. Purple and Teal.”

  The next one read: “October 7. Maverick and Avenger. Sydney, Australia. Yellow and Purple.”

  The last four hadn’t happened yet. That’s why they weren’t crossed out. This was huge. This was a key. He just didn’t know what it unlocked.

  He needed a copy of this paper. He took it down, careful not to tear the tape. He kept a digital camera in his car. He would take a picture, put it back, and get out of here. He had some major deciphering to do.

  October 5

  Shelley, Idaho

  “Mr. Rivera.”

  Gregorio Rivera lifted his head from the trunk of his car as Carl approached. In spite of the overcast day, the man wore dark sunglasses. His yellow tie added a splash of color to the black suit.

  “Detective.” Rivera closed the trunk and brushed his hands together. “You have news?”

  Carl glanced at the red-brick house. “In a manner of speaking. I have a few questions first, though.”

  “Do you have any information on my daughter?”

  Carl wished he could read the man’s thoughts. “Do you?”

  Rivera’s demeanor became colder. His jaw tightened, shoulders stiffening. “Why would I? I’m not the detective.”

  Carl shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Maybe you have connections.”

  Rivera moved to the front of the Honda Civic and stepped into the driver’s side. “I have a plane to catch.”

  “Oh? Business trip?” Carl tried to keep his voice neutral.

  Rivera lifted his chin. “Yes. You had questions?” His voice was sharp and impatient.

  Carl placed his fingers on the rim of the car door. “I tried to find information about your life as a student at the University of Pedrita. Funny thing is there doesn’t appear to be a University of Pedrita. Anywhere.”

  “Are you investigating me or my daughter’s disappearance?”

  Carl tightened his jaw. “It’s my job to do both. I never know when one investigation might lead to another.”

  “It was a small, private university. Maybe it went out of business.”

  “There still should be some indication that it existed.”

  “You might have to go to Mexico to find it.” Rivera placed his hand on the door. “Excuse me. I need to go.”

  Carl didn’t move. “I also went to Dallas. I spoke to your boss at International Accounting Alliances.”

  Rivera’s back went straight, and when he spoke, his voice came out strangled. “And?”

  “He says you’re doing a good job. Holding up company image. Since there is no company.” Carl leaned in closer. “So what do you do on your business trips, Greg? Anything illegal?”

  “Do you have any legal grounds to arrest me?”

  Carl stood up straighter. “Not yet, Rivera. But I’m not done investigating.”

  “Then I suggest you step away from my vehicle.”

  Carl moved backwards, tasting bitter frustration in his mouth. If only he had something to get the guy on. “Have fun in Australia.”

  Rivera slammed the door and sped away.

  Chapter 22

  Ricky and Sara came through the trees, Ricky carrying Sara’s bag over a shoulder. Her nose was pink and her face splotchy. She looked away from her friends and stopped at the tree line, scanning the forest as if searching for something. Always crying.

  “Here.” Ricky handed Jaci the bag and sat down on the log next to her and Neal. “The water bottles are inside.” He pulled out a rock and ran his fingers over it.

  Jaci took one out and dumped it into the flour. It made a thin gruel, and she added more flour.

  “Sick. I’m not having any.” Amanda stood up and walked away. She motioned to Ricky, but he pointed at the bowl of flour paste.

  All their food was gone, except for the flour. Jaci
took a hurried gulp of the gruel and handed the bowl to Ricky.

  Neal glanced at his twin. “Jaci, Ricky and I want to know your plan.”

  “Plan? I don’t have a plan. We’re just trying to get home.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Neal leaned forward, his hazel eyes intense. “Here’s what we need to figure out. What happens when we leave this forest? We can’t just walk to Idaho. How are you going to throw these guys off your trail?”

  She fingered the decaying bark under the log. “They’re not on our trail right now. I guess we keep a low profile.”

  “But they know where you’re going,” Neal pressed. “They know where you live. You think you’re just going to walk up to your house, knock on the door, and everything will go back to the way it was?”

  Back to the way it was. Jaci took a deep breath, hot tears filling her eyes. Things would never go back. She shook her head, feeling like an idiot. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Get home. Just get home. Those were her driving thoughts.

  Neal was right. They had to think about The Hand. The reality of being hunted.

  Amanda came back and sat on the ground in front of Ricky. “What’s wrong, Jaci?”

  “Nothing.” She blinked back the tears. “We’re just making plans.”

  “Well then, don’t you think you should include all of us?”

  “You’re the one who walked away.” Jaci picked up the bowl of gruel on the ground. She doubted Sara would want any, but she should offer anyway.

  Three days later, even the flour was gone.

  The rolling hills were taxing to cross, and usually they saved their energy by sticking to the valleys. Jaci walked close to Amanda, feeling guilty for talking about Sara. But she was concerned for her. Every once in awhile she glanced over her shoulder to make sure Sara was out of earshot.

  “She’s so moody these days,” said Amanda. “She used to be easy going.”

  “Let’s be patient,” Jaci said. Her eyes roved over the shallow stream next to them. The steep bank descended to a creek only a few inches deep. “We can’t even begin to imagine what she’s gone through.”

  “I’ve tried being patient. I don’t think she likes me anymore.”