“Nope, doesn’t ring a bell. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. Just a shot in the dark.”
I paid for my coffee and started for the door.
“Hey, Mister.” I stopped. “You might go by and see Ol’ Fred Yeager. He’s been around forever.”
“Great. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Sure. He spends most afternoons as a greeter up at the Lincoln County Medical Center. Go up to Cherry Street and turn right. The hospital is on the other side of 61.”
“Appreciate the help.”
“Sure, any time.”
I got back in the car and followed the young man’s instructions, getting to the hospital easily. A typical small city hospital, just two stories surrounded by lots of grass and trees.
Parking by the main entrance, I went in hoping to find Ol’ Fred. Sure enough, an elderly gentleman wearing a hospital smock manned the front desk. The embroidered name declared ‘Fred’ was on duty.
Thank you, Lord!
“Can I help you?”
“I hope so. Are you Fred Yeager?”
“The one and only. Who’s asking?”
“My name is Jack Carter. I stopped down at the Fastrip, and a young man there said you might be able to help me.”
“Oh, that was probably Jeremy. Good kid. Help you with what?”
“I’m looking for a Giselle Franklin. I believe she lives here in Troy, but I don’t have an address.”
“Giselle Franklin? You have a picture?”
“Not a current one, I’m afraid.”
“What is it you want to find her for?”
I’d thought about this question on the drive up here. I needed to answer it without creating a ruckus. Truth is best, even if it was slightly off the mark.
“I’m a private investigator,” I showed him my ID. “I’ve been asked to find her.”
“Nothing bad, I hope.”
“No, actually it’s a goodwill mission.”
“Well, the only Giselle I know in these parts is Giselle Taylor. I don’t remember her maiden name, but she married Gene Taylor some time back. They live west of the city on Bennington Court.”
“How do I get there?”
“Take Highway 47 west through town to Bennington Drive, turn right, and it runs into Bennington Court.”
“Thank you very much, Fred. You have a good rest of your day.”
“Same to you. Good luck.”
The sun was starting to set as I came out of the medical center. I looked at my map and used my finger to trace the directions Ol’ Fred had given me. I was fifteen minutes away, tops. I backed out and headed for Highway 47.
CHAPTER 16
It was almost dark when I turned right on Bennington Drive. I could see where the street dead-ended into Bennington Court, about three-quarters of a mile ahead, and decided to approach on foot. I got out, put the cross around my neck, and tucked the sword through my belt. I covered the sword with my black bomber jacket, which I zipped up partway.
I kept a steady pace, moving quickly without running, and I could feel my senses increasing. My alertness grew acute as I approached Bennington Court. I moved across a lawn and ducked below some hedges.
The Court was U-shaped with two cul-de-sacs, one at each end. No more than a dozen homes overall, each with a well-manicured, sizable yard. I didn’t know which house belonged to Giselle Taylor, but from my position by the first house on the street, I could see the entire sub-division.
I had the advantage on Gast, who didn’t even know I existed, never mind that I was coming for him. I had no idea if he’d been able to manifest as corporeal, so I wasn’t sure if when I found him he would be in spirit or physical form.
I don’t know if you’d call it ‘Runner radar,’ but I was suddenly aware of his presence, and I spotted him within minutes. He was leaning against a tree at the end of one of the cul-de-sacs, nearly invisible to me in the dark. His attention appeared to be directed toward the last house on the block, and judging from the fact he stood directly in front of its living room window, I gathered he was in spirit form. Adrenaline surged through me when I realized I’d guessed correctly where the Runner would be.
Thank you, Lord!
Moving silently, I was within ten yards of him in just seconds, behind a different tree in the Taylor yard. Taking a deep breath, I stepped out from my cover.
“Gast!”
He tripped as he scrambled around behind the tree he was leaning on. I moved forward as he looked around the tree.
“Who are you?”
“Name’s Jack.”
“How come you can see me?”
“Call it a gift. I’ve come to help you complete the journey to the other side.”
“I ain’t going to the other side ‘cause I know what’s waiting for me.”
“Well, not to be disagreeable, but you are going, and you’ll answer for the things you did on this Earth.”
“I suppose you think you can make me?”
Robert Gast was a big man, and spirit or not, he was an imposing figure. I controlled my fear and focused on the task.
Holy Spirit, guide me.
“I can force you, but it would be easier on both of us if you went willingly.”
“That’s not gonna happen, so take your best shot.”
With supernatural speed, I sprung off the tree next to him, somersaulted in the air, and landed behind him. My arm circled around his throat, and I drew my sword. As I went to pierce him, my phone rang!
My phone? Are you kidding me?
My momentary loss of concentration allowed Gast to manifest and drive his elbow into my stomach. The air rushed from my lungs, and I released him, doubling over in pain.
He took off running, but I couldn’t give chase. Have you ever tried to run doubled over? It’s hard to do, trust me. I had to let him go.
It took me several minutes to catch my breath, and when I did, I looked at my phone.
The call had come from Mandy. I started walking back to my car.
I am such an idiot! I blew the opportunity because I forgot to turn off my ringer! Unbelievable!
I reached the car, got in, and dialed Mandy.
“Detective Myers.”
“Mandy, it’s me. Got something?”
“We found your friend’s car.”
“I’m on my way.”
*******
If you took Market Street due west from the Arch Park, you’d come to the old St. Louis Union Station. One of the biggest train stations of its day, most of the structure has been converted to a mall, complete with a hotel, Hard Rock Café, and more. The old train platform roof covered the parking lot behind the station. At one time, thirty-two tracks were under this cover, and that’s where they had found Buddy’s white Impala.
It took me over an hour to get back to St. Louis, and by the time I showed up, Mandy was getting impatient.
“Where have you been?”
“Had a case that took me to Troy, this small town up Highway 61.”
“I know where Troy is, but I wish you’d told me. I need to have this car towed to the station.”
“Towed? Why?”
“We have a man reported missing, over forty-eight hours now, and his car just turned up. It’s a potential crime scene.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. Did Sarah Daniels file a report?”
“I took her statement a couple hours ago. Nice lady.”
“Yes, good as gold. I assume you’ve canvassed the area?”
“You assume correctly. Nothing.”
“So, either he walked from here to somewhere else, or this is a dump site for the vehicle.”
I walked over to where the car sat and peered in. No blood, a good thing. No note or clue, a bad thing. Mandy had followed me.
“You look exhausted, Jack. You okay?”
“Yeah, just a long day. You find his cell phone?”
“Nope. No keys or wallet either. Just this.”
She reached in and pulled an evidence
bag from the back seat. Inside was Buddy’s wooden cross. She held it out to me and I took it. I rolled it around in my hands, pretending to have never seen it before.
In reality, the cross told me one very important detail. Buddy knew the chase he had gone on was going to be confrontational. He left the cross because he knew the Runner was not going to go willingly.
I handed the bag back to Mandy with a shrug.
She grunted. “That was my reaction. I don’t have a clue if the cross is relevant or not.”
She tossed the bag back in the car as I headed for the Ranchero.
“I’m gonna call it a night. I’ll call Sarah before going home to get some sleep.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you tomorrow with anything the forensic guys pull from the car.”
“Thanks, Mandy. You’re the best.”
“I know.”
I gave her a tired smile and got in my car. On the way home, I pulled out my phone to call Sarah, but it rang first.
“Hello?”
“Jack?”
“Mom! Oh my gosh, I forgot our dinner.”
“What happened to you? You always call, at least.”
“Mom, I am so sorry. It’s been a day from you know where. I was called away to Troy, a city north of here.”
“I know where Troy is. What was up there?”
Apparently, I’m the only one who didn’t know where Troy was.
“It’s a case I’m working on.”
“Is everything all right with you, Jack?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just one of those days. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“You better.” I could hear the anger ebb out of her voice. “I miss seeing my boy.”
“I love you too, Mom. Call you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Jack.”
I hung up and dialed Sarah’s number.
“Hello.”
“Sarah, it’s Jack.”
“Hi, Jack. Your cop friend was here a couple hours ago.”
“Yeah, I know. I just left her. They found Buddy’s car.”
“They did? Where?”
“Parked in the old Union Station parking lot.”
“I gather he wasn’t with it?”
“No. Nothing seemed out of place either, so for now we continue to assume he hasn’t come to any harm. Detective Myers will keep me updated and I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Jack.”
“Goodnight, Sarah. Try to get some rest.”
I hung up and headed home to a few Tylenol PM and my bed.
CHAPTER 17
The next morning, after three cups of coffee to overcome the Tylenol PM, I drove to the office. I didn’t know what the day held, but I knew there was research to be done.
I loaded up the files on my computer from the Robert Gast trial, searched the notes, and tried my best to figure out who would be second in line. I figured Gast would be too afraid to go back to Giselle Taylor’s house, so I needed to figure out where he would go next.
What would Buddy do?
I stopped my research, pulled back my chair, and got on my knees.
Lord, hear me please. I seek to do your will and I need your help. Direct your servant, that I may accomplish the task you have assigned me. Amen.
After a few minutes, I got back in my chair. I continued running through documents, comparing names to my list of likely targets, when I found the account of a reporter who was present during Gast’s arrest.
Accused serial killer Robert Samuel Gast, was taken into custody today, without incident. Sheriff’s deputies responded to a tip placing Gast at his brother Jeffery Gast’s house in North St. Louis.
Robert Gast was found at the home on Emerson Drive, and, apparently, blamed his brother for turning him in. As police took the cuffed man out of the house, witnesses heard him screaming, ‘How could you do this? You’re my brother!’
Police would not comment on the source of tip leading to the arrest.
The story went on to tell of Gast’s crimes, but I stopped reading. I already had what I needed.
I grabbed a phone book.
The news report placed the brother on Emerson Drive, and the phone book had a ‘J. Gast’ still listed on Emerson. Revenge seemed likely to be on a serial killer’s mind, so my next place to trap Gast and cross him over, had to be his brother’s house.
I called Sarah.
“Hello.”
“Good morning, Sarah. Any word from Buddy?”
“Nothing. Anything from Detective Myers?”
“Not yet, and it’ll probably be this afternoon before the forensic report on the car is ready. I’m going to talk to Buddy’s Counselor and see if he has any idea where Buddy might be.”
“You’re talking about Brother Edwards? I don’t have his number, or I would have called him myself.”
“I’ll go see him and let you know if he has any info. Bye.”
I hung up and headed for the car. I needed to stake out Jeffrey Gast’s house, but first I wanted to see Brother Edwards.
*******
I arrived at Journey Chapel just before noon. The church campus was ablaze with fall colors, and a light breeze moved the leaves in a way that made them shimmer.
I parked around back and went to the small wooden door I had first entered with Buddy. I knocked twice, and Brother Timmons soon appeared at the door, swinging it wide for me to come in.
“Brother Carter, nice to see you. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I’m not on a casual visit, I’m afraid. Is Brother Edwards here?”
The clergyman must have sensed my mood, because he closed the door quickly and started down the hallway.
“Come with me.”
We walked down the old passage, and I couldn’t help taking a second look at the portrait of Justin, Buddy’s mentor.
Did Buddy meet the same fate as his mentor? Death at the hands of Harbinger?
I blocked the thought and followed Brother Timmons into the large office.
Pastor Edwards sat working at his desk, the fireplace crackling behind him, and smiled widely when he saw me.
“Jack, what a pleasant surprise.”
“Hello, Pastor. I hope I’m not intruding, but I have a situation.”
He got up and came around the desk, shaking my hand, and steering me toward a couple chairs.
“Don’t ever think twice about coming here. We’re here for you and your mission. What’s the situation?”
“Have you heard from Brother Daniels?”
The two clergyman exchanged glances.
“No, why?”
“He’s been missing for three days.”
“Three days? Was he on a chase?”
“Sarah said he was, but she expected him back by now. Last night, we found his car.”
Brother Edwards stood up and started pacing, rubbing his chin as he talked.
“Obviously he wasn’t with the car.”
“No, but I did find his blessed cross. The sword was gone.”
“Where was the car found?”
“In the parking lot behind the old Union Station.”
The Pastor stopped abruptly, looking at his assistant. I watched as an unspoken understanding passed between them. I wanted to be included.
“What? Does Union Station mean something to you?”
Brother Edwards restarted his pacing, slower now. His words came slowly, too.
“Brother Daniels has had several run-ins with Harbinger, most brief and unplanned, but the one place he nearly trapped the old Runner was near Union Station.”
I had avoided suggesting Harbinger might be involved, partly because I had nothing to back up the claim, and partly because he was the one individual I didn’t want to confront just yet.
“What happened?”
“There was a confrontation. Buddy getting the upper hand, but he couldn’t inflict enough injury to force Harbinger to return to spirit form. Eventually, Buddy tired and Harbinger ran.”
I followed the slow march of the Pastor with my eyes as he paced from one end of the room to the other. My phone rang, startling all three of us. I shrugged as an apology to the two Brothers and answered it.
“Hello.”
“Jack, it’s Mandy.”
“Hey. You get the report back?”
“Yes, and there was nothing. No blood, no unidentified fingerprints, nothing.”
“Okay, thanks.” I couldn’t hide the disappointment in my voice.
“There’s more.”
“More?”
“I got copies of the security tapes from the mall cameras. They show Buddy Daniels driving into the lot, parking, and leaving. Another camera picked him up at an exit, crossing 18th Street.”
“Mandy, that’s great. Anything else?”
“No, but I’ve got officers canvassing the area east of Union Station.”
“Okay, let me know what you find.”
“Will do, bye.”
I hung up and turned toward Brother Timmons.
“Do you have a city map?”
“You won’t need it.” It was Brother Edwards, who apparently heard both sides of my conversation with Mandy. “I can tell you where he went.”
“You can? How?”
He’d stopped pacing, instead staring out the large bank of windows.
“The confrontation I was telling you about, between Brother Daniels and Harbinger, took place in the Federal Post Office building just east of Union Station. The third floor was used for storage, and it was there that Buddy surprised Harbinger.”
“And you think he was trying to do it again?”
“I don’t know, but I would bet that’s where he was going.”
I got up and moved toward the door.
“Thank you, Pastor. I’ll let you know what I find.”
“Jack.”
I turned back to face the Counselor.
“Yes?”
“He’s still with us.”
“Buddy?”
“Yes. The Spirit is telling me he’s still alive.”
“I know, I’m getting the same message”
“But Jack.”
I frowned, impatient to get going.
“Are you on a chase of your own right now?”
“Well, yes actually.”
“I know you want to find Buddy, but your first responsibility is to the chase. Leave Buddy to the Lord, and do what the Spirit has called you to do.”
CROSSOVER (THE CHASER CHRONICLES Book 1) Page 10