Gone: An Emma Caldridge Novella: Part Two of Three

by Jamie Freveletti

  Tarnell took the card and squinted at it. “Cameron Sumner, Southern Hemisphere Drug Defense Agency.” He tossed the card back onto the table. “Like I give a crap what this guy has to say.”

  Emma took another sip. “Sheriff, both you and I know that you haven’t a leg to stand on when you claim the right to take my weapons. Normally I’d just hand them over and go get some more—it’s not like Utah is short of gun dealers—but the sniper rifle in that lockbox belongs to Mr. Sumner and I don’t think he’d take it lightly that you confiscated it.”

  “Yeah? Well he’s sitting in Key West and I’m sitting here. Now let’s go get your guns.”

  Emma picked up her phone, dialed a number and waited. When it rolled into voice mail, she said, “Sumner, I got a man who calls himself . . .” She squinted at his name badge. “ . . . Sheriff Tarnell in Utah, thinking he can confiscate your unloaded weapon in my lockbox in the Jeep. I know you love that gun. What do you think I should do?” She waited. “Who’s that?” She waited again and then looked at her watch. “Okay, well I’m having breakfast now so you call me right after nine o’clock and tell me what he says.”

  She hung up and took another sip of coffee while Tarnell looked at her, clearly waiting for her to fill him in. She wouldn’t, though. He’d have to ask. He shifted and resumed the belligerent look of bullies the world over.

  “So are you coming out to give me those guns? Or am I going to have to arrest you?”

  Emma shook her head. “Neither. I’m going to wait until after nine o’clock when the governor’s office calls me back and gives me instructions.”

  Tarnell leaned forward. “You’re not scaring me with your talk. The governor knows better than to mess with Sunrise City. He’s left us alone for years and he’s going to keep on leaving us alone. Now let’s go get those guns.”

  Emma reached into her satchel, grabbed a small notebook, tore out a page, listed the guns, added Tarnell’s name and badge number, and handed it and a pen to Tarnell.

  “You write your title, the date, time, and sign your name. Then I’ll give you the guns.”

  “I’m not signing anything.”

  “Mr. Sumner is with a federal agency and I can’t surrender his property without a receipt. No signature, no guns, and we’ll just have to let the feds work this out.” Emma delivered the ultimatum in a mild voice and once again sipped her coffee, waiting to see if the threat of federal action would get him to sign.

  Tarnell snatched the paper, signed it, and shoved it back at her just as Ann stepped up to take her order.

  “I heard you were at Cowboy Leon’s place,” Tarnell said. “Maybe you should ask Brink if he’s seen your friend.”

  Emma shrugged. “I’ll go back right after breakfast and do that.” Ann still hovered, holding an order pad. Her eyes darted between Emma and the sheriff. Emma ordered the farmer’s breakfast and then rose.

  “Let’s go,” she said to Tarnell.

  He smirked, stood, and waved her out of the restaurant, doing his best to make it appear as though he was in charge. The assembled patrons watched them leave. Emma headed to the back of the Jeep, unlocked the box and handed out the weapons. Tarnell held both in one large paw and pointed a finger at her.

  “I don’t want any trouble here, you understand?”

  Emma shook her head. “You’ve already got trouble, you’re just too swollen with your own importance to see it. The moment the Supreme Sons kidnapped an outsider, all bets were off. No one is going to leave Sunrise City alone anymore.”

  Tarnell snorted. “No one kidnapped any outsider and brought them here. Why would they?”

  “To get him to pay up on Shaw’s insurance policy.”

  “What policy?” Tarnell’s confusion seemed real.

  “His kidnap policy with Axor Insurance. Two Supreme Sons showed up in Florida claiming that Shaw was gone and they wanted the company to pay up. You know where Shaw went?”

  Tarnell’s eyebrows flew up so high they almost hit the brim of his police issue hat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Shaw hasn’t gone anywhere. And when the Florida cops told me about those two jokers, I told them not to believe a word of it. They’re cast-offs. Thrown out of here because they didn’t want to live an upstanding life. Drinking and drugging so badly that their families couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Emma gazed at Tarnell, and as much as she disliked the man for his bullying attitude, he seemed to believe what he said.

  “Then maybe someone connected to them kidnapped Ryan. Maybe they want to cash in on a ransom.”

  Tarnell pursed his lips. “Maybe so, but you can bet they didn’t bring him here. They’re not wanted, and if I see them around I’ll just run them back out of town. And you’d better leave too. You’re barking up the wrong tree and wasting your time.”

  “I don’t think so.” She pointed at the guns. “I’ll be back for those.” She spun on her heel and headed back into the diner.

  Ann delivered breakfast, and when Emma was done, the waitress placed a vinyl folder with the check inside on the table.

  “There’s a note in there for Brink,” Ann said. “Could you deliver it for me?” She whispered this while hovering at the table, her eyes darting back and forth.

  Emma nodded, opened the wallet, palmed the check and the small, white envelope under it and with the same hand reached into her satchel. She dropped the envelope and pulled her hand back out, this time holding only the check and her wallet. Ann exhaled in relief. Emma placed a few bills inside the folder and used the pen Ann had supplied to write her cell phone number at the bottom of the check.

  “Call me if you hear anything about a strange man in town. His name is Ryan and I’m looking for him.”

  Ann swallowed once and nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER Emma was back at Brink’s. She parked the car under a lean-to and hopped out, walked around the house to a second corral, and found Brink saddling up a horse.

  “That Lily?” she asked. Brink nodded.

  “Yep. Pretty, isn’t she?”

  Lily turned her head and perked her ears at the sound of her name. She was compact, black, and had the delicate look of an Arab but the sturdy legs of a Quarter Horse. Emma patted her neck and Lily rolled an ear to the side. Emma scratched at the ear’s base and Lily leaned her head into the rub.

  “Very. Nice too.” She handed Brink the envelope. “From Ann,” she said. Brink paused. Emma watched as a series of thoughts marched across his features. She had little doubt what they were. A fly buzzed past and Lily twitched her tail. “I’m pretty sure no one saw her give it to me. She hid it in the check folder.”

  Brink glanced at her, took the envelope and stuffed it into the back pocket of his jeans before continuing to tack up Lily.

  “I assumed that you needed some saddlebags,” he said, “and I’ve got a pommel holster. You want it?”

  “Not unless you have a pistol you can lend me as well. Sheriff Tarnell confiscated mine.”

  Brink snorted. “He’s evil. Does anything Shaw tells him to do. A true acolyte. He threaten you?”

  “Not in so many words. But when I suggested that Shaw was gone, he seemed truly confused.”

  Brink looked at her from Lily’s other side. “What do you mean, Shaw’s gone?”

  Emma told him about the two Supreme Sons who claimed that Shaw had been kidnapped and their demand that Ryan pay up under the policy.

  “But Tarnell insisted that Shaw was still around,” she said, “and it must have been cast-offs that attacked Ryan.”

  Brink tightened the girth and threaded the end through a retaining loop. “I’m not surprised. Cast-offs get blamed for everything around here.”

  “He said they were cast off because they were drinking and drugging. Any cast-offs like that?”

  Brink nodded. “Lots. They’re young kids when they’re thrown out, and they dive straight into every forbidden zone. Most don’t have the education to make it outsi
de, and some eventually start acting as mules for drug dealers. Anything to make a buck.”

  “So you didn’t hear anything either about Shaw being missing?”

  “If he was, I’d be the last to know. You can check out his house. He lives on a four acre compound on the north side of town. It’s guarded and you won’t get near it, but if you’re taking the main trail up the mountain, you’ll be able to see down into it when you get about halfway there.” He finished with Lily and rubbed her neck. “I’ll go get you a gun.”

  “Think I’ll need it?” Emma asked.

  Brink looked grim. “I do.”

  He returned to the small ranch house, and Emma went to the Jeep to retrieve her gear. She was transferring her clothes and other items from her small duffel into the two large saddlebags when Brink appeared with Calvin in tow. She pulled out the bag containing her clothes and Brink leaned in closer.

  “What’s that?” he asked.

  Emma showed him and Calvin the compressed container, which was the size of a large manila envelope.

  “It’s vacuum-sealed. Removes the air and flattens the contents. I can fit twice the amount of clothes into a container that’s less than half the size I would need normally, and the plastic keeps them dry and repels bugs. I use them a lot for camping.” She slid the package into the saddlebag and tightened the flaps, then pulled out her CamelBak water holder.

  “Calvin, can you fill that for her?” Brink said. Calvin took it and jogged to the house, slamming the screen door behind him.

  Brink held up the pommel holster. It was split into two small square sections with a center hole that slid over the pommel. The pieces then lay on either side of the horse’s withers. One side had a pistol pocket and the other a small bag. Brink patted the bag.

  “I put some extra ammunition in here.”

  “And do you have a regular holster that I can put on my waistband when I’m not riding? As it is, I’m a bit nervous attaching the gun to the horse. She gets spooked, throws me, and the gun and I part company.”

  Brink patted the bag again. “Also in here. I agree with you about the spooking, but it’s too uncomfortable to ride with a gun muzzle digging into your thigh.”

  The screen door emitted another sharp sound and Calvin clattered down the porch stairs. He handed her the CamelBak and nudged Brink. “You going to warn her about the mountain man?”

  Oh great, more craziness, Emma thought.

  “Yeah, well, for the past couple of months,” Brink said, “there’s been some man up there breaking into houses and eating the food, sleeping in the beds, and then leaving. He doesn’t take anything of value, but the last cabin had a picture of Shaw on the wall and it was shredded with a knife.”

  “Kinda creepy, huh?” Calvin seemed excited at the thought. Emma swung into the saddle. She thought that the mountain man was probably a cast-off; young, unable to work, and finding any way to survive. She held out some cash for the horse. “Do I pay you or Cowboy Leon?”

  Brink took the proffered money. “Leon’s out on the trail for the next couple of days.”

  Emma shrugged into the CamelBak straps. “It’s all right if I leave my Jeep in your lean-to?”

  Brink nodded. “Sure. Can I ask where you’re going?”

  She shook her head. “Safer if you don’t know, but if I’m gone longer than a week, please call this man and let him know.” She handed Brink Sumner’s card.

  “Will do. Good luck finding your friend.”

  Emma walked Lily out of the corral and, using her compass, turned her in the direction of the mountain. At lower elevation the terrain consisted of red rock buttes in a stunning and stark desert display. Once on the trail she’d be approaching the boundaries of a national forest, and the terrain would turn from stunning and stark to stunning and forested. Under any other circumstances, she would have been thrilled to ride the trail. Now she brooded as Lily picked her way upward.

  Two hours later Emma was lying in the dirt on her stomach behind a teddy bear cactus holding binoculars and watching the back lawn of the Shaw compound. Lily was tied to a tree about five hundred feet above.

  Shaw’s house and outbuildings were three times as large as Brink’s and ten times newer. The sprawling ranch was made of brick and wood, and a large deck off the back of the house opened onto a terrace and beyond that a swimming pool. A structure at the end of the pool looked to be a cabana. A stand of trees separated the house and pool from the stables. Two different corrals were both empty. Farther back from the stables there was another building, which might have been a storage shed or extra garage.

  Emma was positioned to face the yard, as she thought it most likely that if Ryan was held there, he wouldn’t be found in the main house, but in an outbuilding. A ten-foot-high stone wall encircled the entire compound, and cameras were positioned to cover the interior. A man walking toward the stables was the only sign of life, though she could see the reflection of a light shining through a window in the far corner.

  She remained in position for an hour, keeping the binoculars pinned on the house and sipping water through the CamelBak tube that she held in her mouth. During that time, the only activity was at the stables, where the lone man lunged a horse, putting it through its paces. Something about the quiet disturbed Emma. She’d been told that Shaw had four wives and twelve children. Surely there would be more activity around the house? But there was none. No children playing, no dogs wandering in the yard; there was a clothesline, but no clothes hung on it. The lack of activity was eerie. After another hour of watching, where she saw the same man switch it up and work another horse in the ring, she packed it in. It was close to three and the sun was hammering down on her, dust filled her mouth, and sweat dripped into her eyes.

  She steered Lily up the side of the mountain using her map and GPS watch to guide her. She’d arranged to rent a two room cabin, and when she emerged from the rubble-strewn path through an arched rock formation, she spied it nestled in a clearing. It was a log cabin, probably a prefabricated design, with a covered porch that ran along the front and a small corral and lean-to alongside that would accommodate Lily. The owner had promised to stock both the stable and the kitchen, and she was glad to see a Rubbermaid bin next to a stack of hay. She rode Lily into the corral and slid off.

  Thirty minutes later Lily was brushed, watered, and fed with hay and a bit of sweet feed from the bin, and Emma dragged her saddlebags and gun into the cabin. She closed and locked the door before kicking off her boots to explore the interior in her stocking feet.

  The lodge was small and rustic but more than adequate. It had a main room, with plank wood floors, a stone encased fireplace, and a small galley kitchen set off with a high counter with stools on one side. There was a zebra striped area rug in brown and yellow, a couch, coffee table, leather club chair, and a small cabinet that held a selection of board games and puzzles. On top of the cabinet sat a Bose wave radio, the cabin’s only connection to the outside world. No television and no Internet.

  Next to the fireplace, she saw a stack of wood and kindling, along with tools. On the left side, a door opened into a bedroom large enough for two double beds and an armoire. Thick duvets covered the beds, and reading lights were arranged on either side. Another door led to a bathroom with a double sink and a shower stall. The closet ran the length of one wall and had a stacked washer and dryer, along with a ski boot dryer and a full ski storage rack. She was relieved to see, on the floor by the skis, the box Banner had promised to send to the owner two days before.

  Emma washed her face and arms in the bathroom before returning to the closet. She hefted the large box, carried it to the coffee table, and left it there while she grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and a knife from the drawer. She gratefully sucked down the water before slitting open the container.

  In it she found a pair of night vision goggles, a satellite phone, a Nikon camera with a telescopic lens attachment, and a large manila envelope labeled CONFIDENTIAL. She set
tled cross-legged onto the couch and used the knife to zip open the sealed folder.

  Carol Stromeyer had prepared an entire dossier on Shaw and the Children of the Second Son. Like Banner, Stromeyer was ex-military and had spent most of her enlisted years learning how to research, requisition, transfer, or distribute both information and goods within the military complex. Her skills in ferreting out facts lodged in arcane sections of military intelligence files were unparalleled. Emma had no doubt that the dossier would be invaluable.

  An hour later, as dusk settled, she was forced to take a break and switch on a lamp. She was grateful for the opportunity to put down the dossier, because what she’d read sickened her.

  The dossier left no doubt that Shaw was not only a predator of young girls, but also of boys. He’d been accused of sexually assaulting twelve-year-olds, claiming that sex with him was necessary if the children were to reach the heavens. Stromeyer had included transcripts of conversations with cast-off children recorded by social workers in two towns near Sunrise. Not only would Shaw do what he pleased with the children, but he’d ordered the parents to bring the children to his compound for the “cleansing” activity. What horrified Emma most was the that the parents did as they were requested. She tossed the dossier on the cocktail table. She needed a shower and some rest before heading back down the path to Shaw’s place.

  AT MIDNIGHT EMMA slid off Lily, tied her to the same tree as earlier, and stretched out once again near the Teddy Bear cactus, wearing the night vision glasses. The night air had a snap to it, and she welcomed the cool temperature, but not the full moon that lit the area around her. The red stone configurations around her were dark shadows that gave the rocky shale a stark, ominous appearance. She switched the goggles to binocular vision.

  Shaw’s yard sprang into focus. It was still empty. Small bulbs attached to the high stone wall every twenty feet threw weak pools of light, the windows in the house dark except for the same one she’d seen the light reflection in earlier. Pulling the goggles off, she rose to continue down the path. She wore Brink’s gun in the waistband holster, her running shoes, cropped running tights, and a tight-fitting black running tank with the denim vest over it. The desert night air now chilled her.