“How about you? Aren’t you lonely? That hunky guy came out of nowhere and now he’s gone.”
“Yeah, he tends to do that. But no, I’m not lonely. I love seeing him, but I enjoy being by myself. I love my alone time. I get to do whatever I want—go wherever it pleases me. I eat what I want, I go to sleep when I want and I read what I want, which reminds me . . .” I ran into the RV and came out with a handful of romance novels I had finished reading.
“Here, when the kids take their nap, grab a candy bar or some chocolate ice cream and read a few chapters. Start with this one,” I said as I sorted through them until I found The Flame and the Flower, by Kathleen Woodiwiss. “If this doesn’t make the time fly and keep you from being lonely during the day, I don’t know what will.” I gave her a fierce hug and handed her a piece of paper with my cell phone number and e-mail address on it. “Here keep in touch, but please, please don’t give this to anyone else.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she said awed by the little strip of paper in her hand. “Thank you so much,” she said as she gathered the books in her arms. “I’ll get the kids and go to the camp store right now and get me a Snickers bar for when I get the kids down this afternoon. Thank you!”
I watched as she slowly walked back to her trailer, reading the back cover of the book I recommended. I could see her eyes widen just as she turned and went up the steps. I didn’t know if Calvin would thank me or not, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I had just created a new romance book junkie.
I turned back to my chores of cleaning the lot and stowing equipment in the “basement.” Then I went inside, pulled the slides in, went over my checklist and got behind the wheel. I had already secured everything in the house and placed the Road Whiz and NASCAR Atlas in a dashboard compartment. I was ready to continue south through California on Route 5, first through Sacramento, then Fresno and Bakersfield, before picking up Route 40 to head east toward Arizona. I had a lot of driving ahead of me but I was revitalized and rarin’ to go. Brick’s visit had been nice and I’d loved seeing him even for the very short time we’d had together, but the experience of meeting Jodi, Calvin, and Jasper had reminded me of how painful love could be. I knew I wasn’t ready for that. I loved being independent and responsible for just me. And I loved the excitement of a new adventure every time I turned the key. I couldn’t wait to see what was around the next bend. I pulled out slowly, careful and mindful of how many kids were playing outside on this beautiful, sunny, late spring day.
I stopped at the camp store to check out and was surprised that there was an envelope for me. An overnight package had been delivered just moments ago the lady said, surprised that I hadn’t been expecting it. I turned it over in my hand and looked for the return address.
It had been sent from an address on Leesburg Pike in Tyson’s Corner, Virginia. The address looked vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it right away. It had been addressed to me as simply “Deborah a.k.a. Jenny, National RV Dolphin, License number NJR 72869.”
My heart sped up and I held my breath as I pulled the tab that opened the flat envelope. I looked inside but couldn’t see anything, then I turned it upside down and a small white piece of plastic fell into my palm. It took me a minute to figure out what it was, then as I turned it over in my hand I saw Jared’s full name embossed in the center of it. I knew exactly what it was. It was Jared’s hospital bracelet. He was letting me know he was out, he was lucid and he knew where I was, for the moment.
I dumped everything in the trashcan beside the counter, thanked the woman, and ran back to my RV. I was getting out of Dodge just in time!
Chapter Twenty-six
I can honestly say that I do not remember the first hundred miles south on Route 5. Automatically, I must have changed lanes when necessary, moved with traffic and braked when it was needed. The thought that Jared’s memory was back, at least as far as I was concerned, was a real downer. I had hoped for a reprieve of at least a few months. Why couldn’t the man stay comatose, I practically screamed at the windshield!
I had originally planned on stopping for a night in Sacramento but as I ended up going through that area after the dinner hour, I figured I’d keep going. Traffic wasn’t likely to be any better than it was right now and it was quite manageable at the moment. I thought I’d better take advantage and push on. I don’t usually like driving more than three hundred miles on any given day. It’s hard on the eyes, and the back, and I worry that my full time and attention won’t be there in a critical moment, should I need it. I was just nowhere near wanting to settle right now, especially at a pre-planned site. I sifted back in my mind. Had I told anyone I was heading to Sacramento specifically? Jodi knew I was going to Tucson and then on to Austin, but nothing more informative than that and they were some pretty daggone big cities to just hunt and peck and hope to find someone in. I was feeling safe, but not totally.
The clock on the dash showed it was after nine, and I needed to get gas anyway, so I pulled over at the next truck stop. Brick must have finished with his testifying by now, I reasoned. No courtroom I knew of was tending to cases this late, so I decided to call him and share the “good news.”
His one-word answer when I told him about the hospital bracelet summed up his feelings and mine. He didn’t often cuss, but I guess he felt this instance was worthy.
“Mmmhmm, the new I.D. and vehicle didn’t last long. I wonder how he’s finding all this stuff out so fast?” I whined.
There was silence on the line while Brick mulled things over. Then he bit out, “Satellite. It has to be through a satellite of some kind. But how? How’s he doing it?” he was clearly as baffled as I was.
“I don’t know. I know he’s smart and up on the latest technology, but I can’t fathom how he found me at the very first place I stopped in California.”
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“You stopped.”
“Pardon?”
“Hold on, let me check something out.”
I heard fingers tapping computer keys, exclamations, and then a long exasperated sigh. “What a clever, clever man.”
“What did you figure out?”
“Before I tell you, let me see if I’m right. How do you decide where you’re going to stop, which campgrounds you’re going to use?”
“Uh, I don’t know, close to the Interstate, by a fairly large city, in case I want to shop. Oh, and I like K.O.A.s and places listed with the Family Campground Association.”
“And?”
“Umm, oh yeah, and I check to see if they’re in the Good Sam Directory.”
“Just as I figured.”
“Just as you figured what?”
“Do you have one of those Good Sam stickers on the back of the Dolphin?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“Great. Any others I should know about, discount or otherwise?”
I thought for a moment. “Yeah, Family Campground and Camping World, and it’s not just about the discount you know, they rate places for quality.”
“I know, I know, hold on, let me check something out.” I heard him rifling through pages in a book, then he stopped and I heard, “Mmmhumph, mmmhumph.”
“What already!”
“According to the 2008 Trailer Life Directory, there are five parks listed for Bakersfield, that is where you said you were heading right now, right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, three belong to Good Sam’s.”
“So?”
“How hard is it to get on the phone and call all the parks in any given area, particularly when you have the unlimited staff to do it?”
“I’m not following.”
“You’re on the run. He figures which direction you’re heading from where you were before, then he figures out how many miles you can go in any given time frame. He has his cronies call all the parks around major cities close to an interstate. Bingo! I mean he has the make, model, color, and license tag since he was just recently in it
and one of his cohorts was trussed up on the ground right beside it all night.”
“So you’re saying he’s calling around and the people who answer the phones are telling him whether I’m there or not? Why would they do that?”
“Well, it’s damned easy to lie or sound official and it’s certainly not privileged information.”
“So you really think that’s what he’s doing? Just calling around and asking?”
“Think about it. He’s never come across you as you were arriving at one of those places, only after you’ve been there and are settled in. The first times, before in North Carolina, he had the G.P.S. bugs, then when you removed them and sent him on wild goose chases, he couldn’t find you. But once he found you in Oregon, he had to know, I mean odds are that you were heading south. It was just a matter of time. But it is kind of odd that he alerted you with that envelope. It doesn’t make sense for him to tip his hand if he’s so all fired up to get you back in his clutches.”
“Maybe someone else sent it.”
“What was that address again?”
“I think it’s the mailing address for his store at Tyson’s Mall.”
“Well then, it’s him or someone who works for him.”
“So what should I do?”
“First thing is to remove those stickers. Don’t give anybody any more information than you have to. Second, change up and don’t be so predictable.”
“Predictable!’
“Yes, you’re very predictable. Hell, I’ve only known you a few months, he knew you for six or seven years!”
“Don’t get angry!”
“I’m not angry, just worried. Are you tired right now?”
“Getting there.”
“Well get your gas, get back on the road, and wait until I call you back.”
“Why, what are you doing?”
“It’s what you’re doing. You’re going to bypass Bakersfield. I have a friend in Tehachapi, he’s a State Trooper. I’m going to see if he can suggest a place for you to dry camp. You’ve got water and your holding tanks are empty, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Good girl. Hang tight, I’ll call you right back.”
He clicked off and I did too, a frown creasing between my brows. Could he possibly be right? I was predictable? Geez, who wants to be called that?
After checking my tire pressure, I went into the convenience store part of the station to pay, then I put a hundred dollars into old Betsy. I took my time pulling into the lane heading back to the interstate, hoping Brick would call before I was back in the driving groove. He didn’t. In fact, it was over an hour later before I heard back from him.
“Sorry, some jerk thought it was necessary to rob the Denny’s I was in.”
“Robbed? As in stick ‘em up?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Gosh, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you shoot him?”
He laughed and I could just see him, his head thrown back, his mouth curved in a generous smile, and his eyes closed in delight. It made me smile.
“No I didn’t shoot him. Broke his nose though, bad break too, as I did it with my elbow.”
“Wow. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. Just sucky timing.”
“For him.”
“Yeah, for me too, I was just about to get a pedophile I’d been tracking. He was hiding out in the girls bathroom.”
“I gather he got away.”
“Actually no, he got hit by a car. But there’s nothing we can charge him with. The undercover cop hadn’t even gone back to the restroom yet. Then with the robbery, we both blew our cover. So, I’ve been here for an hour and now I’ve got police and emergency crews all over the place. I’ll be writing all this up until midnight. I got an address for you; it’s for the Tehachapi State Police Barracks. They’re expecting you in an hour or so. Just pull onto the back lot and dry camp there. No one will bother you.”
“Oh, okay, that’s sounds . . . uh . . . good.”
“And uh, hey, do me a big favor.”
“Yeah sure, what?”
“Just stay in the damned RV. I got enough to worry about without thinking that some trooper in uniform is going to sweep you off your feet while I’m two states away.”
I smiled, not only at his words, but also at his gruff voice.
“Yeah, okay.”
“And tomorrow night, don’t be predictable! Goodnight.”
I said goodnight to a dead phone, as he had already disconnected.
An hour and forty minutes later, I rumbled onto the back lot behind the State Trooper Barracks and found they had left a whole section clear for me. I gratefully pulled into the slot, turned off the motor and flicked off the front lights. Moments later, I was curled up in a ball in my bed listening to the generator keeping me cool, savoring thoughts of Brick, who even in absentia, was keeping me safe.
Chapter Twenty-seven
When I woke up and started moving around, I noticed that a piece of paper had been stuck under the windshield. Facing me, in big bold letters were the words, “COFFEE AND DONUTS BY THE DOOR.” And sure enough, when I opened the door, there was a big thermos of coffee and a bag of donuts sitting there, just waiting for my avid appreciation. I waved to no one in particular and took the bag and the thermos inside and had myself a sugarfest.
I had showered and dressed and was about to take the thermos back, when my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number and almost didn’t answer it, but then it had never been all that easy for me to bypass my curiosity. So with a tentative, “Hello?” I listened for the reply.
“Jenny?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“It’s Connor.”
“Oh, Connor! So you’re there?”
“Yup. I’m here. Not that it’s doing me any good. I need your advice.”
“Did you find her?”
“Oh yeah, you were spot on. She’s here. She’s taking summer classes.”
“Well, what’s the problem?”
“Approaching her, that’s the problem. Just how do I do this?”
“What do you mean, how do you do this? You go up to her and say, “Hi, honey, I’m so glad I finally found you.”
“She doesn’t know me from Adam, for one thing. So that’s liable to scare her off. And the two times I’ve seen her, she’s had a gaggle of friends cloistered all around her.”
“Well, it would help to have her alone for this monumental occasion.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too.” I could hear the exasperation in his voice. “I don’t even know how to find her again and when I do, I don’t want to appear as if I’m stalking her; but like it or not, it seems that’s exactly what I’m doing. Good God, she’s so damn beautiful she makes my eyes water from the staring.”
“I don’t suppose there’s a way to get her alone in a classroom or dorm room?”
“Are you kidding, the security around here is pretty tight. You have to have a school I.D. to go anywhere on campus.”
“Well that’s easy, enroll and take a class, that’ll give you access. Man, if you could find out her schedule, you could even get into one of her classes.”
“How long has it been since you were in college? It doesn’t work that way anymore. You have to apply and that could take months, especially to a school like this. And from the look of some of these classes emptying out, I don’t think they can fit another student in anywhere.”
“I suppose you’ve tried Admin?”
“Yeeeaah! No luck there, it’s all about the student’s privacy. Even with what I thought was a plausible story, I got nowhere.”
“Just curious—what was your ‘plausible’ story?”
“Boyfriend home from the war. Hey! I looked the part.”
“They didn’t even offer to contact her for you?”
“They sent me to her advisor, who is nowhere to be found.”
“You can go online to MySpace.com, and if she ha
s an account, contact her that way.”
“I tried, there’s no account for her. I even got a student I ran into in the library to try Facebook here on campus. She’s not set up there either. I guess she’s got more important things to do right now, what with beginning classes and adjusting to a different routine. It’s barely the second week of the summer session here.”
“Hmmm.”
“So, I’m hanging out at the bookstore, ‘cause I figure everyone ends up here eventually. You register, you get your class assignments and then you get the books.”
“Well that’s not a bad idea.”
“Except that this could take forever, plus security is bound to wonder what I’m doing here, all day, everyday.”
“How about putting an ad in the school paper?”
“Oh that’s a brilliant idea. And just what would it say, “Looking for elusive girlfriend named Diana, don’t you think it’s about time we met in person?”
“Got your point.” We were both silent for a moment while an idea began to take shape.
“She’s a freshman. Most freshmen can’t wait to ‘experience’ college.”
“What are you getting at?”
“Find out where a freshman who’s underage has the best chance of getting beer and what bar is known to be lenient when it comes to checking I.D. at the door. Then Friday night, hang out until you either see her, or some of the friends she’s been hanging out with. You buy the beer for a round or two and you just might hit pay dirt. If she’s not there with them, maybe they’ll tell you where she can be found.”
“Uh, isn’t that illegal, helping a minor get alcohol?”
“You got scruples now? Just a few days ago you wanted to murder somebody, remember?”
“That was different, these are kids.”
“Somehow they’re going to get the beer, with or without imparting the information you need.”
“You got a point there.”
“If I think of anything better, I’ll call you, but that’s the best suggestion I can come up with.”
Running Up the Score Page 12