“Phone numbers don’t matter anymore,” interjected Jason, noticing it was missing.
The girls returned soon after, with little Billy in tow. Proudly holding up his yo-yo, he declared that Carla had bought it for him. She beamed with pride, hugging her new brother. “I really only helped ’cause it cost more than he had.”
Each child had a small amount of candy and gum for the coming week. They quickly packed their few remaining items so they could head home before dark.
Following a great day of trade, Janice announced they would all be eating out after church tomorrow.
The Weston Grill and Tavern owners passed around a reservation sheet among the vendors, citing 20 confirmations would be needed for a special secret Sunday lunch menu to be prepared.
Janice signed in the number 24 slot, as rumors ran regarding what would be on the menu.
* * * *
James was happy to see the increased parade of traders, causing a country-style traffic jam going beyond his property.
“The lock is still on,” called Jason, pointing to the front gate.
With the kids waiving to the now occasionally passing trader, the adults observed the property with binoculars for a few minutes, with nothing appearing out of sorts.
Chance made the final house sweep, declaring “All clear!” with a single bark.
* * * *
Sunday morning had the VanFleet and Davis clans decked out in their finest. With Chance in tow, they headed back to town.
Sunday church would be a regular happening from here on out, and the ladies didn’t mind pressing two suits for such an occasion.
The families were treated like royalty by their fellow parishioners, giving James a good feeling that they were doing something good for the town.
James’ offering of 10% of his recent sales, including the steer, to the church surprised the pastor, and he made a special after-service visit to meet with the expanding family.
“Thank you, James,” the pastor said quietly. Most of my worshipers used to tithe regularly, but now they are not able to do so. They still need God and the church, now more than ever, and your contribution today will ensure that they may return here, regardless of financial ability to donate.”
“We are always happy to help the church,” James replied, adding, “Janice’s and my faith are the only reason I am still alive today.”
“Would you please say something at our next service, James, about where this God-fearing town is headed?” the pastor asked.
In a lower voice, almost a whisper, the pastor added, “My parishioners sometimes have trouble speaking out when they witness injustice. I know the Good Lord will right the wrong, and those on the wrong side of good will pay the price when it is time. They don’t realize it’s that simple and so they try to overthink it, I believe. To them, the Judge and sitting Sheriff are men to be feared, but you are a man of hope and generosity, someone they can trust. You, James, are a true leader of people, as I am. Does that make sense to you, James?”
“Yes, pastor,” James replied, so nobody else could hear. “I never asked to be put in this position, but since I am now, I will do everything I can to help our fellow citizens have a better life.”
* * * *
Heading to the restaurant, the girls were excited about the secret lunch menu.
The banner out front said it all in only two words. “Daddy, what does ‘Old School’ mean?” asked Carla.
“Well,” replied Jason, “it usually means something authentic from days gone by. As for the menu today, I’m guessing it won’t be anything fancy, but you are likely to find various foods we all love and have had many times before.”
Under the same heading on the chalkboard hanging off the wall, in smaller letters, read the menu, separated into categories.
Mains: char-grilled hamburgers, foot-long hot dogs, Fair corn dogs, turkey legs, and grilled cheese sandwiches.
Sides: tater tots, onion rings, French fries, collard greens, smashed potatoes, and corn off the cob.
Desserts: chocolate or vanilla ice cream, apple pie, and pecan pie
* * * * * * *
Chapter Twenty-seven
Weston, Colorado
The lunch seemed to be a hit with the growing crowd, and indeed was to the VanFleet and Davis clans.
This lunch was taken outside and consumed on a picnic bench, with James ordering an extra double hamburger, plain, and pretending to accidentally knock it on to the ground near Chance’s head, where it promptly disappeared.
“You did that on purpose!” Janice announced, calling him out in front of the others. “That’s a waste of good food.”
“Tell him that,” James replied, reaching down to pet a grateful companion. “You girls sure did make a good find with Chance here. I wasn’t convinced at first, but now I’m sure of it.” Chance barked, wagging his tail.
* * * *
Judge Lowry considered himself an outdoorsman, fishing and hiking growing up back East. and even more the past years in and around Weston.
In all these years and adventures, he never owned a gun or weapon of any kind, unless one counted a Swiss Army knife.
Truth be told, he had never shot a pistol before and only knew the very basics of the Smith and Wesson model 10 .38 special. The six-shot revolver was recommended by the booth trader over a semiautomatic pistol for less experienced shooters, and it came with 50 rounds of ammunition.
“Can we keep this purchase between us?” the Judge asked the only man running the booth.
“Yes, sir. All sales at my booth are final and confidential, and this here pistol shoots straight every time. You will want to clean it, though, periodically.”
The Judge thanked him, without concern about the last advice. Who needs to clean a gun that will only be fired once, or maybe twice? he thought.
Thankfully, the weapon came with basic instructions on proper loading and firing, and he studied in earnest this quiet Sunday afternoon.
* * * *
Sheriff Johnson spent some time today messing around with his captives. They would remain in separate cells from now on, following the previous altercation.
He started with the councilman, asking him to please not fight in this building. “It’s just something we have zero tolerance for in my town,” the Sheriff added.
“I can’t have you and Richard over there,” pointing down the hall towards the other cell, “putting our good citizens at risk of being harmed because you guys think it’s fun to brawl.”
The former councilman listened intently, with an idea of where this was headed. In a plea attempt, he explained what happened, as if the Sheriff didn’t already know.
“Sir,” he started quietly and respectfully, not the same cocky man from before. “Sir, he attacked me after I tried to get some food off the only plate you gave us.”
“That’s a lie!” came the response from down the hall. “He attacked me first!”
This got a slight smile from the Sheriff, who didn’t care either way, as long as his two captives were under his roof.
* * * * * * *
Chapter Twenty-eight
Raton Pass, New Mexico
We could hear the dogs barking loudly.
“Some raccoon is in for the race of his life,” said Tom, joking.
“Mr. Lance! Mr. Lance! Come quick!” said Lonnie’s daughter, running up, out of breath.
“What is it?” I asked, now getting the attention of Joy, Lonnie, Jake and Nancy.
“It’s Hudson and Jax! Something has happened to them, I think!”
“Where are they?” I asked, now feeling panicked and jumping up.
“Ow!” I yelled, as my leg buckled. I fell, reaching out as Jake tried grabbing my arm. Hitting the ground hard, a shooting pain went down my leg.
“I’m sorry, buddy. I tried to catch you,” said Jake, helping me to sit again.
“Honey,” said Lonnie to his little girl, “where are they?”
“I don’t know, D
addy. I think somebody took them.”
“This is important, honey,” Lonnie added. “Tell me everything, exactly as it happened.”
“We were playing and Hudson had to go potty, so he went behind a tree. We heard some screaming and Jax went to see. The rest of us went to check, and they were gone. I could hear them screaming, but it kept getting farther away. Ringo and Mini are barking like crazy, but we can’t find them.”
“Show me right where they were,” he told her. “And you’re not going anywhere!” he added, pointing squarely at me.
“I’ll find out everything,” Joy told me, hobbling with Tina and Lucy’s help towards the edge of the property, trailing a running Jake and Lonnie.
“I’m staying with you, Lance,” Nancy told me.
“I need to be there!” I shouted, attempting to stand on my own. My leg buckled for a second time, with Nancy catching me.
“Ahhh!” I yelled in frustration, feeling helpless to do anything for my children.
“They are going to be OK, Lance,” Nancy told me. “We have all the right people here to make that happen.”
“You mean Jake and Mike, right?” I snapped. “Now there’s a pair!”
Nancy’s face was calm, and she was unfazed by my last comment.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you, Nancy. I feel useless, and there couldn’t be a worse time to be laid up, but it’s not your fault or anyone else’s.”
“It OK,” she replied. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I never take anything said in a time of crisis personally. And to answer your question—yes, I believe my husband and Mike are going to have to work together on this. I’ll grab a four-wheeler, and we will get you down there, but no walking. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
* * * *
Joy and her helpers, with Lonnie and Jake, headed to the group of children huddled at the far end of the property.
“Show us right where you saw them last,” Lonnie said to his daughter.
“Here, Daddy,” she told him, taking them all behind a large group of pine trees. “This is where Hudson went potty, and then Jax went to see if he was all right.”
Calling out their names…with a few seconds pause between each attempt…there was no response, only the rustling of trees.
Joy looked to the ground for shoe prints, and the necklace caught her eye, balled up and barely sticking out of the pine needles strewn across the ground.
Picking it up carefully, she recognized the smashed penny on the end of the chain Hudson always wore as a good luck charm. He, Jax and Hendrix would get a smashed penny each year from a restaurant vending machine near the camp their Louisiana family had owned for years.
Hudson had not taken the necklace off for more than a year, even to shower or swim.
“This is Hudson’s necklace!” she announced, “and he never takes it off, not ever!”
Lonnie called Mike and David on the radio. “We need you two down here on the west perimeter right now!” is all he said. Both came running and were quickly briefed on the situation.
Joy walked briskly into the woods, calling their names. It took both Mike and Lonnie to turn her back.
Mike asked everyone to stay behind a line he carved into the dirt with his boot.
Joy kept me informed over the radio.
“I’m headed down there, with Nancy’s help,” I told her. “Where’s Hendrix?”
“He’s right here with me and said he didn’t see anything.”
“What about the other children?” I asked.
“Most are down here now, is all I know. I found Hudson’s penny necklace,” she told me, starting to cry.
“Honey, we will find them. I know it.”
“Mike is looking for tracks and clues as to what happened,” she added.
“Don’t let anyone else over there except for Lonnie. We don’t need anyone contaminating the area,” I said.
With Nancy and me arriving on a four-wheeler, we all waited anxiously for Mike and Lonnie’s report.
“Why are they taking so long?” asked a frustrated Joy, holding a whimpering Hendrix in her arms.
“This is a crime scene,” I told her. “They didn’t just wander off, and I’m pretty sure they will tell us the boys have been abducted.” My mind raced, and I couldn’t believe I was actually speaking those words about my own children.
I remembered the first time hearing the heart-wrenching story of a popular television personality who literally hunts bad guys following the abduction and killing of his young son. Since then, I always kept that possibility in the very back of my mind, wondering what I would do as a father myself.
Mike and Lonnie huddled, as a group of NFL referees on a controversial call might, before announcing their findings to the group of adults and children.
“Joy and Lance,” Lonnie said, “your sons have been taken, from the looks of the scene behind us.”
The news, while not surprising to me, still stung with the finality of it.
“It’s them…those bastards!” shouted Katie. “We should never have left, and now they are mad. I’m so sorry this happened,” she tearfully told Joy and me.
“This is not your fault,” Joy told her, “or anyone else’s here.”
“Nancy?” asked Lonnie. “Will you please take the bike and bring Vlad down here?”
Joy helped me off and on to a sitting position on the ground, and Nancy rode back to the camp.
David called Mel and Steve to come down, and told Mel to bring his drone. He told Mark and Jim to monitor the radio for any news relating to the boys.
“Don’t leave the radio unattended for even a minute,” he ordered, “and let me know if you hear anything.”
“Will do, Dad,” Mark responded.
Mel and Vlad made it down at the same time, quickly being filled in on the situation.
“How can I help?” asked Vlad.
“We may need your influence with the Colonel to bring these boys back safe, but we don’t know anything yet,” Lonnie told him.
“Of course,” Vlad replied. “Whatever you need, we will get it done together.”
Mike pointed out the tracks to Lonnie, with Jake, Mel, and an insistent Joy observing.
“It looks like three men ambushed the boys. Two waiting here,” he said, walking behind a large clump of bushes, “and the other one over here,” he added, pointing to a large pine tree. “Judging by the footprints and cigarette butts, they had been waiting a while, maybe even a day or two.”
“We would have smelled the smoke,” pointed out Joy.
“Not today,” Mike replied. “The wind is blowing away from us.”
“So, they hunted our kids?” asked Vlad.
“Yes, basically, that’s what happened,” replied Mike. “We were monitoring the bridge border, but not the other sides. They took advantage of our weaknesses and capitalized on their position.”
“We have something on the ham,” came the word from Mark over the radio.
“What do you know?” asked his father.
“They have the boys across the river and want an exchange.”
“They are asking for three to trade for two?” David said, as more of a question.
“No, Dad. It’s something different.”
* * * * * * *
Chapter Twenty-nine
Raton Pass, New Mexico
Hudson, playing with his friends before it happened, had kicked the soccer ball back and forth across the flat field at the edge of the forest. He was trying to impress Lonnie’s daughter with his footwork, making sure she saw every play.
Ducking behind a tree to pee, he smelled the cigarette odor, turning around to see a man dressed in camouflage from head to toe. He let out a scream as the man covered his mouth with a cloth and dragged him, kicking, into the bushes.
Jax, hearing Hudson’s cries, ran into the bushes, hoping to help.
“This is even better,” a man called out as he grabbed Jax, folding his
arms against his side and lifting him off the ground.
“Do you see her?” he asked the third man, without a captive.
“No, that’s it,” declared the third man. “Let’s head back to base.”
Next World Series (Vol. 3): Families First [Second Wind] Page 26