He peeked out the front window of the Inn to make sure no one was watching him. Then he hurried outside into the cold, dark, January night. He buttoned up his coat and pulled his knit cap down over his ears. Ron liked the cold, but this was a little much even for him. He estimated it to be about ten degrees Fahrenheit outside. Unless he was ice fishing, he didn’t like it that cold. He dashed to his car and reached over and turned on his heater. Cold air blew on his face. Thinking the car needed to warm up, he waited a bit and tried again, but only cold air came out. Fine time for the heater to go out. He pulled his knit cap down further in an attempt to warm his ears.
Just as he pulled away from The Affordable Inn, he heard a gunshot and a deafening noise of metal on metal. The car jerked from the impact. Ron pushed the pedal to the floor, leaving rubber as he sped onto Government Way. He heard another shot but felt no impact. They missed him. The intersection was only a short distance away. He barreled through the red light. As he sped away he heard a shot in the distance behind him. He ran two more lights before he slowed down, even though no one appeared to be following him. Fortunately, there were few cars on the streets. He zigzagged through the residential areas back and forth until he found himself near the Kootenai County Fairgrounds, where he pulled over and tried to regroup.
The men Ron had testified against so many years ago had discovered his identity, or so it seemed. He picked up his phone, popped it open, and detached the battery. He didn’t know exactly how GPS tracking worked, but he had read somewhere that turning off your phone may not stop its GPS from working. Nor did he know if whoever was after him had the capability to track him, but he didn’t dare risk it. If it was the mob who had discovered where he was, they could easily go after his family. That was the one thing that would bring him out into the open and they knew it. He prayed that his sister, Sabre, and his mother would get to a safe place.
Ron took a deep breath and considered his options. He could call Witness Protection and ask for help once again, but he was tired of moving and constantly recreating himself. And the men kept finding him anyway. If it weren’t for his family he would have left the Program long ago and just taken his chances. And now there was Gina.
Ron found his way back to Government Way and continued south, watching to make sure no one was following him. There was a laundromat on Haycraft Avenue that housed another pay phone. He turned right, entered the lot, and parked as inconspicuously as he could. After waiting a few minutes to make sure no one had followed him, he went inside and dialed U.S. Marshal Nicholas Mendoza, his contact in WITSEC.
Nicholas answered on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Nicholas, this is Buck Crouch. Someone just shot at me.”
“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”
“No, I’m done. I can’t keep doing this.”
“Listen to me….”
“No, you listen to me. They keep finding me. I’m going to take care of this myself.”
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Mendoza said.
“I just mean that I can hide by myself better than you can hide me. That’s all I’m saying.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. You just keep an eye on those mobsters so my family is safe. And take care of Gina.”
Nicholas started to say something, but Ron hung up.
Ron left the laundromat, got back into his car, and made several quick turns until he reached the interstate.
“Goodbye, Hayden,” he said aloud as he turned onto I-90 and headed east toward Montana. He would miss this town. It had been good to him and after four moves in the last seven years, he thought he had finally found home. The people were friendly, he liked his work at Templin’s Resort in nearby Post Falls, and he had met a woman, Gina Basham, with whom he had fallen in love. She had dark hair, soulful eyes, and when she smiled, she smiled with her whole face. Like him, she had grown up in southern California and even though he couldn’t share that part of his life with her, it still created a connection. The thought of breaking her heart left a pain in his chest.
“Goodbye, Gina,” he said as he passed Exit 15 that led to Fernan Lake Village where his girlfriend lived. He missed her already. Maybe I should’ve asked her to go. Maybe I still should. What if they go after her? His mind fought with his heart as he continued down the highway. If he went back, he would have to tell her what happened. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to leave without letting her know the danger she would be in. But then, at least it would be her choice. Suddenly, he was angry at himself for ever getting involved with her. He had avoided attachments for so long. Why now? He found himself slowing down and before he realized it he had exited the highway. Turning around, he drove back onto the interstate toward her house.
By the time Ron reached Gina’s home he had changed his mind three times. Another block and he would have likely been back on his original course to Montana. The house was completely dark except for the hallway light that Gina left on every night, unless he stayed with her. Then she would shut it off. She said she felt safe with him in the house and didn’t need the light.
Ron had a key that she had recently given him, but he was afraid if he used it she might shoot him or something, thinking a stranger had entered. He rang the doorbell. After a couple of minutes when she hadn’t come to the door, he rang it again. Still nothing. He knocked and called out, “Gina, it’s Buck.” He didn’t yell too loudly for fear of waking the neighbors. The cold made him shiver. He tried once more. The doorbell rang when he pushed it, so he knew it was working. It worried him that she didn’t answer. What if they had gotten to her? If they knew who he was, they knew about her as well. He should have never gotten close to anyone.
He put the key in the lock and slowly opened the door. Once inside he turned on the light in case she woke up. “Gina, it’s me. Buck. Are you here?”
“Gina,” he called out as he hurried to her bedroom. “Gina!” The bedroom door was open, but the bed was made up and there was no Gina. He checked the guest room, the bathrooms, and her office, but no one was there. He sprinted to the garage. It was empty. He came back in and walked through the entire house again to look for signs of a struggle, but found none.
Ron faltered for a second, then went into her office and used Gina’s fax phone to call her cell. It rang. “Pick up,” Ron said. It rang two more times. “Please, Gina, pick up.” After the fourth ring, his call went to voice mail. He started to leave a message but decided it was better if he didn’t. If they had her it could make things worse. He hung up the phone and hurried out. He got into his car and drove away, watching to make sure no one was following him. There was no way to look for her. He told himself that perhaps she was staying with a friend, but he didn’t really believe it. She had no family here in town and he had seen her just a few hours earlier; she hadn’t mentioned meeting up with anyone.
There was really nothing for him to do but leave town. He drove onto I-90 and headed east. The clock on his dashboard read 3:17 a.m.
Chapter 3
Sabre had already decided where she was going to take her mother, but she had to make a stop first. She wished she could go to JP and enlist his help or at least give him a kiss goodbye before she left, but she had promised Ron she wouldn’t tell anyone except “Butthead O’Brien.”
She turned onto the long, shared driveway off of Jamacha Road in El Cajon and followed it past three other houses to the end. It was nearly 4:30 a.m. No one would be up yet, but Sabre couldn’t wait. She walked to the front door and knocked. When no one responded, she knocked again. The dog started to bark, lights came on, and after a few minutes, Bob opened the door. She smiled at the way his prematurely gray, wavy hair stood up in several spots.
“Nice do,” she said.
He ignored her remark. “What’s wrong, Sobs?” he asked. Sobs was his nickname for his best friend. It came from her initials, SOB, which stood for Sabre Orin Brown. “Come in.”
“I’m sorry to stop here so ea
rly in the morning, but this couldn’t wait. Please apologize to Marilee for me. I hope I didn’t wake her or Corey.”
“No, you’re good. They’re both at the cabin for the weekend with her sister. I couldn’t go because I had the Archer trial to prepare for. What’s up?” Bob walked toward the sofa and laid his pistol on the coffee table. Sabre glanced at the gun. “You can’t be too careful when someone comes calling this time of morning,” he said. “Come have a seat.”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. My mother is waiting in the car. I need your help.”
“Of course. What can I do?”
“I received a call from Ron a couple of hours ago. He told me to get out of town and take Mom with me. He told me that I could only tell Butthead O’Brien.”
“So, you came to me?”
“I’m sure he was talking about you.”
“Me? Butthead? Why would he call me Butthead? And O’Brien? Please. I’m English, not Irish.” Bob stiffened his body and cocked his head toward Sabre. His voice grew a little louder. “I barely know the guy. I only met him once. Butthead? Really?”
“Calm down. He was sending me a message. When we were kids we would spell things in code. B-O-B, Butthead O’Brien. I’m certain he was referring to you.”
Bob smiled and nodded his head in a short, approving motion. “Alright. I like that. I like him even better now.” Bob chuckled, then almost immediately looked concerned. “So what did he say? Is he alright?”
“I think so, for now at least, although he did hang up rather abruptly and he couldn’t tell me much. I’m not sure if he’s still in Witness Protection or not. When I asked him where he would be, he said, ‘I don’t know, but it will be the ultimate place.’”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know. I think it was probably code like Butthead O’Brien. The first two letters are U-P, but I have no idea what that stands for. And I don’t know what he’s afraid of for sure. I’m guessing his identity has been discovered. All he told me was that he was worried about Mom and me and he wanted us somewhere safe.”
“That’s troublesome. What can I do to help?”
“I’m sorry about dumping this on you, but I need you to cover my cases if I don’t return and I need you to know where I’m going. I think Ron will find a way to contact you and ask you to pass on a message. I hate to put you in the middle of this, but….”
Bob put his arm around Sabre and gave her a little squeeze. “Sobs, you know I will do anything you need, but I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be fine.” She handed Bob a piece of paper with a name, phone number, and address on it. “Here’s where I’m taking Mom. I’ll stay there until I figure out what to do next.”
“Keep in touch with me, okay?”
“I won’t be able to call you because Ron is afraid my phone may be tapped, so I’m not sure how we’ll communicate. I’ll use a pay phone if I can find one. I know I’m going to have to talk with you about my cases.”
“I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” Bob left the room.
Sabre looked at the gun again, wondering if she should have one. She was still staring at it when Bob returned.
“You can take that with you.” He nodded toward his pistol.
“No, I’m good.” She didn’t have a permit to carry a weapon and wouldn’t even know how to use it. She thought about the offer her friend Mike McCormick, a deputy sheriff in juvenile court, had made to her. He had encouraged her on several occasions to buy a weapon and had even offered to train her to use it. But Sabre’s fear of guns had won out. Now she wasn’t so sure it was the right decision.
“Here,” Bob said as he handed her a black flip phone. “This is a ‘not-so-smart’ phone, but it will do the trick. It’s one of those where you buy the minutes as you need them. We bought it for Corey when he went to camp, but he doesn’t need it now.”
“But what if he does?”
“Then I’ll get another one. There’s no way that phone is tapped. It’s perfect.”
“But what if yours is?”
“Then we’re all doomed anyway.” He smiled at Sabre. “Sobs, that’s highly unlikely and you have to be able to make some calls. I’ll keep an eye on your minutes and add more as needed. I’ll make sure you don’t run out.”
“I hate to dump my caseload on you. I have some crazy stuff coming up and I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I have the Tanner case again and I have….”
“I’m already on Tanner. I can handle that. And as for your other cases I’m sure I can figure them out. The way you keep notes and organize your files, a chimpanzee could do your cases. Besides, I’m the King, remember. I can handle anything.”
“You are the King, for sure.”
“I’ll tell the court you had an emergency and I’ll deal with whatever needs to be done.”
“You’re a good friend.” Sabre hugged Bob goodbye. “I’d better go. Mom’s waiting in the car and I don’t know how much time we have.”
He walked her toward the door. “Have you told JP?”
“No. Ron made me promise to only tell you. JP is going to be furious when he finds out.”
“Only because he would want to protect you.” Bob paused. “Have you two even had a real date yet?”
“No, but thanks again for getting us together on that dance floor last week. We had a lovely evening. We decided to take it slowly and get to know each other on a more personal basis. We’ve both had conflicts the last couple of days, so tonight was supposed to be our first official date. He’s going to think I’m running away from him.”
“I’ll take care of JP. Just go and be safe so you can get back here. I can’t handle too many days in juvenile court without you. I’ll go stark raving mad with all those other fools.”
Sabre walked out the door to her car. Bob stood in the doorway waiting and watching until she left. She backed out and started down the driveway. In her rearview mirror she saw the front door close and the light in the living room go out.
“Where are we going?” Sabre’s mother asked.
“Kingman, Arizona. I don’t think anyone would be likely to go there. With Gary’s background in law enforcement he has been very careful to not leave much of a trail behind him. And Uncle Gary and Aunt Edie will be glad to see us.”
“You’re right, they will. And no one will mess with Gary and his two best friends, Smith and Wesson.” She sighed. “Do you really think Ron is okay?”
“I’m sure he is, Mom,” Sabre said, hoping she sounded convincing. “Why don’t you put your seat back and get some sleep. I’ll wake you if I get tired.”
Sabre drove east onto I-8 for approximately one hundred miles. Her mother tried to sleep, but Sabre knew she wasn’t successful. Every so often Sabre would hear her mother sigh or see her reach up and scratch her face or neck. Ron’s words kept echoing in Sabre’s mind, “ultimate place.” U-P? Where could that be? Did it really mean something? Ron said so many strange things that Sabre couldn’t be sure, but when she got a chance she would try to find what she could on the Internet.
Darkness was fleeting and Sabre watched as the sun climbed in the east. Before long it was so bright it was blinding her and making it difficult to see the road. She welcomed the turn north onto CA-111. She drove about fourteen more miles before exiting the highway and checking her rearview mirror to see if anyone followed. Two cars came off behind her, but one turned the opposite direction at the end of the off ramp and the other passed her shortly after the exit. When she stopped at an Arco gas station, her mother raised her seat back.
“Where are we?” her mother asked.
“Brawley. I need gas and we can get out and stretch our legs, use the facilities, and get some coffee.”
Her mother didn’t respond. She stepped out of the car and walked inside while Sabre pumped the gas. When Sabre finished she went inside, used the restroom, and then fixed herself a large decaf coffee mixed with hot chocolate and hazelnut cream. She couldn’t handle
the caffeine that came in the coffee. It would make her anxious, wired, and sick to her stomach, but she wanted a stimulant. She hoped the chocolate would be enough to help keep her awake, although she wasn’t sure she needed it. She was still running on adrenalin from the phone call.
“Are you hungry?” Sabre asked her mother.
“No, not really.”
They returned to the car. “How about if we stop at Starbucks in Blythe?” Sabre asked. “We can get some oatmeal or a muffin or something there.”
“How far is it to Blythe?”
“About an hour and a half.”
“That would be fine. I’m sure I’ll need another potty break by then anyway.”
Sabre looked around as she pulled out of the station and made her way back to the highway. After she checked the rearview mirror about four times, her mother asked, “Is someone following us?”
Sabre shook her head. “No, I’m just making sure.”
Chapter 4
Ron didn’t slow down until he reached Missoula, Montana, approximately two-and-a-half hours later. Partway through the city he took Highway 200 for a couple of miles and stopped when he saw a Town Pump truck stop. The sun hadn’t risen yet and Ron had been awake for nearly twenty-four hours. He shook from the cold as he filled the gas tank, and then went inside to obtain the largest cup of hot, black coffee he could find.
After walking around the aisles for a few minutes, Ron reluctantly left the warm store and walked back to his cold car. His whole body hurt from being so cold and he was tired, but he pushed on. In less than two hours he would be in Helena and hopefully he could find his friend’s cabin. It had been over ten years since he had been there. He prayed his friend was still alive and living in the same place.
Ron couldn’t help but think about how he had gotten himself in such a mess. Like countless other stories before it, this one had started when he met a woman. Her name was Elizabeth, but he called her Beth. Though he’d tried not to, he fell in love with her. Unfortunately, she was a married woman with a young daughter. They became great friends but nothing more. He was pretty certain she loved him too, although it was never discussed. Her husband, on the other hand, didn’t trust either one of them, and his jealousy drove him to frame Ron and put him in the middle of a mob war. When it was all done, Ron had to testify against several mobsters and soon found himself in the Witness Protection Program. Elizabeth disappeared and the husband walked away.
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