When Memory Fails

by L C Hayden

  Bronson stood up. “You ready, girl? Let’s go get that Ledger, and then we’ll go find you a good home.” He began climbing the small hill, pleased that Honey walked right beside him.

  Fifteen minutes later, he had located the area where he had buried The Ledger. He mentally pounded his forehead. He knew what he was going to do when he got here. Why hadn’t he thought of bringing a shovel? Maybe the old Bronson wasn’t completely back.

  He removed the twigs and rocks he, Daniel, and Sandy had placed to conceal the burial site. He found a rock and a branch that would serve as shovels. He began to dig. Honey walked over to the area and moved her paws back and forth, helping Bronson with the digging.

  Bronson laughed. “You’re one great dog.”

  Minutes later, he hit the top of the metal box that contained The Ledger. “There it is.” He reached for it and took it out of its hidden spot. He stood up and dusted the box. “Ready to head back to town?”

  Honey raised her head and looked out toward the darkness of the woods. She threw her body against Bronson’s legs, hitting him hard enough to knock him down.

  Seconds later, the bullet that would have found its target in Bronson’s chest, whisked past him.

  Chapter 61

  Instinct immediately took over. Bronson flattened himself and rolled over. In one swift move, he retrieved the semi-automatic handgun he carried and pointed it toward the general direction from where the shot had originated. He scanned the area but could not find his opponent.

  He waited it out, his gaze constantly watching for any movement. He stretched and picked up a hand-size rock. He tossed it to his right.

  A second shot rang out.

  Gotcha. I know where you are. Bronson fired.

  A scream, then a thump followed.

  The dog’s growl startled him. He checked for Honey. She was nowhere in sight. He swallowed hard.

  Up ahead, the swaying of the brush told him exactly where to head. He dashed toward that spot, the gun pointing forward.

  He saw Miguel, blood oozing out at a steady clip from his shoulder. That meant that no major artery had been hit. He remained a threat. Shiiit.

  Miguel eyed the area near him, searching for the gun he had dropped. When he found it, he frowned. Honey stood between him and it.

  Honey, growing bolder by the minute, growled and snapped at Miguel. When Miguel saw Bronson approach, he seemed unable to decide which one he should attack. He reached behind his back and retrieved a butcher knife. He swung it, first aiming at the dog, then at Bronson.

  Honey jumped up and bit his hand, forcing him to drop the knife.

  Bronson rushed him and hit him with all of his force below the breastbone.

  Miguel whooshed aloud as breath escaped his lungs. He stumbled forward and passed out when his head hit a protruding rock.

  Before he could regain consciousness, Bronson unclipped Miguel’s handcuffs from his belt and dragged him to the nearest tree.

  Miguel came to and screamed in pain as Bronson grabbed his wounded arm and forced him to hug the tree. Once both hands were behind him and on the other side of the tree, Bronson cuffed him.

  “You wounded me. You’ve got to get me medical help.” Miguel’s firm look dared Bronson to contradict him.

  “It’s only a scratch. You’ll survive.” Bronson walked close to him but still remained far from Miguel’s reach. “Tell me why you shot at me.”

  Miguel smiled, a small movement of the lips that didn’t stick around for long. “You’re gloating, huh? You think you’re the big bad Bronson who once again won against the powerful Lazzarones.”

  “Is that it? You’re with them?”

  Miguel’s face lit up. “I have been part of them for years. Why do you think I always went to check on Ol’ Joe? Sure, he grew on me through the years, but not enough to let me forget my allegiance to Papa Lazzarone.”

  “You met the man, have you?”

  Miguel shrugged. “No, not really. Nobody has. He’s a recluse. Only Bobbi talks to him. He tells her what he wants done and Bobbi makes sure his wishes are met.”

  “Why were you paid to keep an eye out on the hermit?”

  “Papa Lazzarone didn’t want him to make a stupid sudden move like finding the legendary ledger, and then try to sell it to the biggest bidder.” He grimaced. “I’m in a lot of pain. I told you everything you wanted to know. Now let me loose and take me to the hospital.”

  “I don’t have the keys to the cuffs.”

  “They’re in my front pocket. Get them.”

  “And as soon as I get near you, you kick me or try to do somethin’ else as cute.”

  “Why would I do that? You’re the only one who can free me. There’s nobody else here but you and me—and that stupid dog.”

  Bronson smirked. “You really had Ol’ Joe fooled.”

  “Not just him, but you, too. You, who is supposed to be the world’s best detective, didn’t figure it out until now.”

  “Why did you shoot at me?”

  “That’s a stupid question. I want to be the one who returns The Ledger to Papa Lazzarone.”

  “How are you plannin’ to do that?”

  “What’s with the million questions? You’re boring me. Now get those damn keys out of my pocket and use them.”

  “The Ledger, how are you plannin’ to deliver it to Papa Lazzarone?”

  Miguel rolled his eyes. “Go on, keep playing your games. You’re the one who’s on the losing end. Let me tell you one thing. You’re a walking dead man. Sooner or later, it’s going to happen. You have no idea how many people are in Papa Lazzarone’s payroll. You can’t trust anyone anymore. Ever again. You’ll always be looking behind your back. Then one day, boom, you’re dead. Papa Lazzarone will keep the professional assassins coming until that happens. That’s how he operates his business, and that’s why he’s so successful. What do you have to say now?”

  Bronson fixed his site on his opponent, much like a pitcher who was about to deliver a fastball on a full count. “How do you plan to deliver The Ledger to Papa Lazzarone?”

  “I’m through answering your questions, and I’m the one who has the last laugh. Tell me, do you really think Daniel and Sandy are in the house all by themselves?”

  Bronson’s stomach took a nosedive. He ran down the hill, Honey following close behind. The rental car parked at the edge of Ol’ Joe’s ruins suddenly seemed to be miles away.

  Chapter 62

  A sheen of sweat covered Bronson’s brow and upper lip. Please be safe. He pushed the speed limit above the posted one. His tires squealed when he made a sharp turn onto the main highway that would lead him back to Drifting. The passing trees and signs blurred in his haste.

  Soon as he’d have cell coverage, he’d call Sheriff Lingsberg and inform him that Bobbi might be holding Daniel and Sandy hostage in the deputy’s house. The sheriff would take over and by the time Bronson reached them, they would be safe.

  Or would they?

  You have no idea how many people are in Papa Lazzarone’s payroll. You can’t trust anyone.

  Did that include the sheriff? Bronson had made the mistake of putting his trust in Miguel. He wouldn’t repeat the error with Lingsberg. As long as Bronson didn’t know which side of the law Lingsberg stood, Bronson would play solo.

  Bronson checked on cell coverage. He had one bar. He dialed Daniel’s number. It went to voice mail. Bronson frowned and pushed down on the gas. “Get out of the house. You’re in danger.” He called Sandy. Same results.

  Shiiit! He threw the phone on the seat. “You’re worthless.”

  Honey looked at him.

  “Not you. The phone.”

  Honey looked out the window.

  Bronson floored the gas pedal, praying he’d reach Daniel and Sandy in time.

  He took the curve and saw the few scattered houses marking the beginning of Drifting. He made a left on Farm Road 601, the roadway that would eventually lead him to the deputy’s street. He pumped the br
akes, forcing the car to slow down so as not to attract any attention.

  Bronson executed a right to Miguel’s street. As he drove past the neighbors’ houses, he searched for any unusual vehicles.

  Nothing stood out, but could he really rely on his gut feelings like he had before?

  Once the deputy’s house came into view, he pulled over. He parked the car, stepped out, and at a normal pace made his way toward Miguel’s house.

  “Uncle Harry.”

  The male voice came from somewhere to his left. Bronson froze and bent down to tie his shoe, and then remembered he wasn’t wearing shoes with shoelaces. Details. No one would notice. He played with the shoe as though it bothered him. “Where are you?” He spoke loud enough to be heard, but not attract any attention.

  “To the left. Behind the bushes,” Sandy said.

  Bronson breathed easier. Both were safe. “I’m going to bring the car. Stay safe.” He stood, turned, and almost bumped into Honey. “Back to the car, Girl. I forgot your leash.” He spoke loud enough to be heard, just in case.

  He got in, unlocked the back door, and rolled toward where Daniel and Sandy hid. He stopped and threw the back door open. “Now.”

  Both jumped out of the bush and dashed toward the car. He sped away even before Daniel had a chance to slam the door shut.

  As he zoomed past Miguel’s house, he saw the front door swing open and a very mad looking Bobbi, closely followed by Leonardo and Pablo, ran out.

  Bronson watched them grow small in his rearview mirror. They stood in the sidewalk talking to each other. None of the three made a mad dash to their car to follow him.

  That, more than anything, bothered Bronson.

  Chapter 63

  Daniel sat on the back seat of the car with his arm around Honey. “What’s with the dog?”

  “I was going to find her a good home back at Driftin’. But that was before I knew you two were in trouble.” Bronson snuck a look through his rearview mirror. No one followed them.

  “How did you know we were in trouble?” Sandy asked.

  Bronson told them.

  Sandy threw her arms around Honey. “She saved your life.”

  “She sure did.” Bronson made a mental note to stop at the next hamburger stand and treat her to her own hamburger. Heck, maybe he should make it a steakhouse.

  “We were supposed to stop at the hospital back in Drifting so you could get that MRI,” Sandy said.

  “That’s not going to happen.” Bronson saw the frown on Sandy’s face. “I don’t need it. I’m sure I’m fine, but if it makes you feel any better, I’ll get one done as soon as possible.”

  Sandy brightened. “Promise?”

  “Promise.”

  “You said you were going to find Honey a happy home back in Drifting. Obviously, that’s also out. What are your new plans for her?” Daniel asked.

  “I’ve been thinkin’. Why look for a good home for her when she already has one?” Bronson remembered how Honey had saved his life and fought side-by-side with him. “She is a remarkable dog and a keeper.”

  “Oh, oh.” Sandy glanced back and looked at Honey. “What do you think Aunt Carol is going to say?”

  Bronson shrugged. “She loves dogs. She won’t mind.”

  “And if she does?”

  “Then it’ll be your job to help me convince her to let me keep the dog.”

  “How old are you?” Daniel let out a light laugh, like a minor ripple on a small pond.

  Sandy threw her arms around Honey as she too laughed.

  Bronson waited until they settled down. “What I want to know are the details that led you two to hide in the bushes.” Up in the far distance, Bronson spotted an overpass. Although he was still far away, he noted that no cars were using it. Up ahead, Exit 6A told him that its rest area was a full facility stop. “I left the house a bit past 5:30. Everyone was still asleep. What happened?”

  “About six-ish, I left Sandy’s room.” Daniel gasped and paused.

  Bronson cast him a look but said nothing.

  Sandy focused her attention on whatever attracted her out the window.

  “I-I meant, I was coming out of the bathroom when I saw the main door downstairs open. Bobbi and Sandy’s two worthless cousins stepped in. I ran into your room but noticed that you were gone. I returned—” He cleared his throat. “I went to Sandy’s room, and we snuck out the window.”

  “Good thinkin’.” Bronson stepped on the brakes and slowed down a bit.

  Sandy’s face remained impassive, but her eyebrows knit slightly in puzzlement. “Why did you slow down?”

  Bronson kept his vision glued on the black jeep traveling on the overpass. It seemed to be barely rolling along. He categorized that information and checked his surroundings. All exits were on the other side of the overpass. Through his rearview mirror, he could still make out Exit 6A. It was definitely behind them, but not by much.

  The jeep on the overpass came to a stop. A man stepped out of the back seat. He carried a high-power rifle and aimed it at Bronson’s car. “Duck! Now!” Bronson pushed Sandy down, shrank down but not so far as he couldn’t see out the window, and threw the car in reverse. The tires squealed in protest.

  A bullet found its target on the front of the car. Its belly-jarring sound came like a crash exploding before them.

  Bronson saw the car behind him heading toward him. He heard its horn. He imagined that he could even see the alarm on the driver’s eyes. Sandy’s screams blended with Daniel’s mumbled words.

  Bronson swerved to avoid a collision but continued to drive backward. Cars around him slammed on their brakes and frantically moved to get out of his way.

  Thankfully, no one got hurt.

  Before the overpass disappeared from his view, Bronson allowed himself one fast glimpse. The shooter threw himself at the back of the seat, and its driver sped away.

  Once Bronson saw the exit’s road, he threw the shift gear to drive. The sedan skidded across the road, but the tires soon caught traction as Bronson took the exit road. Now that they were out of the sniper’s range, Bronson slowed down and made his way to the rest area.

  The silence inside the car screamed with the rush of adrenaline.

  Bronson broke the silence. “Is everyone okay?”

  Daniel nodded. “What happened?”

  “The sniper. You didn’t see him?”

  “I think so. On the overpass. Wow! That was some driving. You’ve got to teach me how to do that.”

  Bronson turned off the engine. “I don’t think so.”

  “So now what?” Sandy asked.

  “Now we know why Bobbi didn’t rush out to follow us.”

  Daniel tapped his forehead. “They are tracking us.”

  “Precisely.” Bronson opened the door and got out. Honey jumped out of the car, and Bronson almost closed the door on her. He had to get used to the idea of having a dog. He opened the door wider and let Honey out.

  Bronson switched his focus from the canine to Daniel. “Let’s find the bug.”

  Daniel nodded.

  Bronson checked under the front of the car and failed to find one. He moved to the back of the sedan and ran his fingers along the bottom of the car. Nothing on the right side. He moved to the left side. “Here it is.” He removed the magnetic bug.

  Sandy took a step backward. “Step on it. Destroy it.”

  “Nope. I’m going to do one better.” He looked around and noted that nobody paid attention to them. He walked over to the car parked beside them and checked on the license plate. Pennsylvania. That wouldn’t work. The next one was Oregon. That should work. He planted the bug on the Oregon Chevy. “That should buy us some time. Hopefully, these folks are headin’ back home or at least away from Pennsylvania.”

  Daniel nodded. “You don’t want them to know we’re heading back home.”

  “That’s right.” Bronson extended his hand. “I hate to do this to both of you. Hand me your phones.” They did as told. Bronson drop
ped them and stomped on them.

  “Hey!”

  “They could be using those to track us, but I don’t want you without a phone. Next town, we’ll stop and get you new ones.”

  Daniel eyed his broken phone. “Good thing I had everything sent to the cloud.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Sandy sighed. “But I’ll still miss my phone.”

  “Sorry. Just doing what is best.”

  “We understand. No big thing.” Daniel reached for Sandy’s hand. “Why don’t you want them to know we’re heading home?”

  “It’ll only put Carol in danger.”

  “But eventually we’ll have to head back. What then?”

  “There’s no ‘we’ in this, only me.”

  Daniel waved his hands. “There’s no way we’re going to leave you. We’re a team.”

  “I appreciate that, and unfortunately, there’s no way I’m leaving you behind. As long as you’re in danger, you’re stuck with me. But there will be times I’ll have to go alone. When that happens, I don’t want any arguments. Are we clear on this?”

  Both Daniel and Sandy nodded.

  Bronson looked around. “I don’t see any highway patrols headin’ our way. Surprisingly, I reckon, nobody reported us. Let’s get out of here while we still can. I don’t like being sitting ducks.” Bronson headed back to the car. “In a couple of hours, how about we find us a motel and have us a good night’s rest? Tomorrow we can develop some strategies.”

  “You won’t sneak out in the middle of the night?” Daniel half-smiled, half-frowned.

  “I’m through with that.” He opened the car door and got in. He waited until Daniel and Sandy were securely buckled up. Bronson turned on the car and immediately turned it off.

  “What’s wrong?” Air fled Sandy’s lungs in a harsh gasp. She looked around.

  “Relax.” Bronson opened the car door. “We forgot the dog.”

  Honey sat at attention on the sidewalk, staring at Bronson.

  “We’ve got to get her a leash and food and a dog bowl and whatever else she needs.” Bronson stuck his head out. “Come.” He made a sweeping motion toward the car. “You’re one of us now.”