Bunker: Boxed Set (Books 1, 2, and 3)

by Jay J. Falconer

  Dustin put the mask on and secured it, then caught a white apron launched his way. He found the front of it, put it on, and tied the straps around the back of his waist.

  The spread of items on the tables was impressive: beakers, flasks, two large glass bowls, three stainless steel containers, measuring scale, tube furnace, some kind of filtering apparatus, and an overhead stainless steel hood, much like those installed over a cooking station in a commercial restaurant.

  Wait, why does a basement have an exhaust hood?

  Dustin thought about it for a moment before the answer came to him: Albert had been planning this for a while, having gone through the time and expense to have it installed.

  “Everything must be spotless before we start our cook,” Albert said in a muffled voice, sounding like he was trapped in an underground bunker. “I can’t wait to show you my secret voodoo. I’m sure you’ve heard of Clearwater Red, right?”

  “Ah, no. Not exactly.”

  “Trust me, it’s legendary. Every tweaker on both coasts is completely hooked on this blend. With me here, instead of in LA, inventory will be running low soon. We need to get busy and ramp up production. It’s time to start raking in some fat-stacks while everyone else is busy trying to deal with the power failure.”

  “So I take it this is your recipe?”

  “Yep. Finally found a way to put my chemistry skills to good use. Couldn’t see myself working 9 to 5 for some pharmaceutical company, making them rich off of all my hard work. And genius.”

  * * *

  Sheriff Gus Apollo cut across the street and headed toward the outdoor grill in front of the café. The tantalizing aroma of maple-smoked bacon and sizzling eggs locked on to his nose and pulled him forward.

  His stomach had been growling all morning and so had his heart, with thoughts of Allison Rainey. She was the chef slinging food on the wood-fired cooktop roughly thirty feet ahead. Even from a distance, he could see her hands working the spatula with precision, reminiscent of a brain surgeon trying to reconnect nerve endings in a dying patient.

  Apollo smiled when Allison turned her head and looked up for a moment, catching his gaze. Perfect timing, he thought as she smiled at him.

  His day was off to a wonderful start. Next up, an impending surge of high cholesterol and an elevated heart rate, one delivered by the food and the other by the chef who was about to prepare it.

  Apollo knew it was a deadly combination on multiple levels, but he didn’t care. He needed this moment of bliss before the remainder of the day took over—a day destined to be filled with second-guessed decisions and endless challenges.

  When he arrived, he noticed four hands tending the grill, not two. Allison’s son, Victor, was helping her.

  The tall, lanky kid had his hair tied back into a single ponytail, matching his mom’s. It was clear the youngster had slung breakfast before, working in near-perfect concert with his mother. Apollo was impressed. The boy wasn’t a complete slacker after all.

  “Hey Sheriff,” Victor said, only glancing up for the briefest of seconds.

  Allison brought her eyes to Apollo again, this time with a look that was all business. “How do you want your eggs, Sheriff?”

  He’d hoped for a friendly conversation, but he didn’t want to press it. She was busy earning a living and so was her son. “Over easy is fine. Plus some of that bacon, if it’s ready. It smells amazing.”

  “My secret recipe. Hope you like it.”

  “I didn’t know you cooked, too,” he said, thinking about all the hours he’d spent sitting at the service counter in the restaurant. She’d only ever waited on him, never venturing into the kitchen during the hours he’d spent on his favorite stool.

  “Our regular cook never showed up for his shift. I guess Craig thinks people don’t have to eat now that the power is out,” she said before grabbing another log from the stack behind her. She put it into the firebox under the cooktop. “Luckily, Billy Jack had this old grill in the basement. Not sure what we’d do without it.”

  “Sometimes being a packrat has its advantages. I know I’ve got my share of junk. Haven’t been able to pull my truck into the garage for a couple years now.”

  “It happens to the best of us,” she said, handing him a plate with three eggs and four slices of bacon. “Sorry we don’t have toast.”

  “This is more than plenty. Thank you,” he said, holding his tongue from releasing the rest of the words in his mind. He wanted to ask her out, but with Victor standing next to her, now wasn’t the time.

  Hell, it never seemed to be the right time. Something always seemed to rise up and block him. Sure, some of it was because he was a gutless old man. But perhaps it was more. Perhaps the universe was trying to tell him something—or stop him from making a complete ass out of himself.

  If she said no, or took offense to his unsolicited advances, then the rest of the town would soon know about it. Small communities are famous for their fast-moving rumor mills, and Clearwater was no exception. As Sheriff, he certainly didn’t need to make himself the target of gossip or innuendo. Not with his reputation already paper thin at best. But regardless, his heart wanted what it wanted and he couldn’t stop it.

  Apollo decided to try another approach. If he chose his words carefully, maybe he could discover a better time to stop by and pop the question. “You working a full shift today?”

  “Till ten, when the owner takes over. Unless, of course, Craig decides to show up and do his job.”

  Apollo smirked, wanting to say something clever. “If he still has one after this.”

  “Yeah, with my luck, I’ll be stuck here all day, every day. At least until hell freezes over.”

  His heart sank when he heard those words. Crap, she might never be alone. Or have any free time to relax and enjoy a night out. She was clearly stressed out, and Apollo couldn’t blame her.

  Time to move on, he decided, wondering about payment for the meal. There was no cash drawer nearby. “What do I owe you for this?”

  “It’s on the house today, Sheriff.”

  “No, that’s really not necessary.”

  “Yes, it is. I insist. It’s the least I can do after what happened in the market yesterday.”

  “I appreciate that, but department rules explicitly forbid accepting gifts of any kind.”

  “Even food?”

  “Yes. Any gift, including food. Just need to know the total and I’ll grab it from my wallet.”

  She hesitated, beaming her big, beautiful eyes at him. “Fine. A buck, then. That’ll cover it.”

  “Seems a bit low.”

  She smiled, her face perking up. “For the next minute, we’re having a very special law enforcement-only sale. Three eggs and bacon for a dollar. Best deal in town.”

  He looked around, but didn’t see anyone else in the area. At least not anyone in uniform who appeared to be headed his way for breakfast. “One minute, huh?”

  She put her hands on her hips and rocked her head from side to side when she spoke. “Fifty seconds, now. Oh, and by the way, we’re not accepting tips during this one-minute special, either.”

  “But Mom, we need the money,” Victor said, interrupting the conversation.

  Allison shushed him.

  Apollo felt a thin smile grow on his lips, appreciating her quick wit and her generosity. “All right, a buck. I’ll be right back,” he said before walking to the nearest table.

  He put the plate down and checked the bills in his wallet: four ones, two fives, a ten, and a twenty. He pulled the twenty and folded it over in his hand, then wrapped it inside a single before returning to her.

  Alison put a mason jar on the stainless-steel shelf above the grill and pointed to it. It was at eye level for her.

  Apollo tucked the pair of bills inside the glass container and went back to his table. As long as she didn’t check the deposit he’d just made, she’d only think there was a buck inside. He needed to eat quickly and leave before she noticed the twen
ty. Then she couldn’t give it back.

  He sat down and tore into his food. The eggs were perfectly cooked, with a thin white film over the yolks, and so was the bacon—crisp, lean, and delicious. There was something uplifting about the perfect breakfast. It truly sets the day. Especially when it was prepared by a stunning middle-aged woman who’d captured his heart.

  Then again, his stomach was on empty and if she’d served an old miner’s boot smothered in honey, it would have tasted like heaven. So who was he kidding?

  When the last scoop of eggs entered his mouth, a pair of legs came in from the right and parked in front of him. They were covered in blue slacks. Pressed and expensive.

  Apollo looked up, choking down the mouthful of food.

  “Well, I finally tracked you down,” Mayor Seth Buckley said, his face flushed.

  “Sorry, needed to eat,” Apollo said, wiping his chin with a napkin. His eyes found their way past the Mayor, landing on Allison. He hadn’t planned for his focus to wander, but it did. When he brought his attention back to his boss, a sharp comment landed on his ears.

  “Something tells me hunger isn’t the only reason I found you here. Hunger for food, that is,” Buckley said with attitude. “She’s beautiful, I’ll give you that. But don’t you think Allison is a little out of your league?”

  “Yeah, probably. But the heart wants what it wants.”

  “The heart, maybe. But you and I both know that Little Willie is doing all the thinking right now.”

  The Mayor was spot-on. Apollo couldn’t deny it. But his heart was also involved. “True. It has been a while.”

  “For you and me both.”

  “Are you hungry, Mayor? I’m buying.”

  “Nah, I’m good.”

  “Are you sure? A man’s got to eat.”

  “I had a protein bar earlier. Found it in the back of my pantry. It was a little stale, but it’ll hold me for a while. Besides, we’ve got work to do.”

  “The reconnaissance teams?”

  Buckley nodded. “Need to get them in the field ASAP. I need to know what’s going on out there. Did Daisy and Bunker acquire the communications gear from Tuttle?”

  Apollo shrugged. “Haven’t seen them.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Probably still sleeping. I’m guessing it was a long night.”

  “Then we need to wake them up. Now.”

  “I’ll get right on it, sir. Daisy’s trailer isn’t far.”

  “Any idea where Bunker’s staying? I want to have a little chat with him. Seems prudent to get to know him a little better. I’m not sure why, but my gut is telling me there’s more there than meets the eye. I can’t put my finger on it, but something’s off.”

  “You mean like those bandages on his neck?”

  “Well, that too.”

  “He might be staying at Franklin’s place.”

  “Are you sure about that? I thought when he first rolled into town, several parents offered him a place to stay.”

  “They did.”

  “Then he could be anywhere at this point.”

  “True, but I’d still suggest starting at Franklin’s. I found a handwritten note in my office this morning from Stephanie King. It was addressed to Bunker and included directions to the horse stables. So I’m betting that’s where Bunker is. With Stephanie and her son.”

  Buckley’s eyebrows tightened and so did his chin. “Bill King’s not going to like that one bit. Even though they’re divorced, we both know he’s gonna take exception.”

  “Not sure I blame him. A stranger in town, and he’s hanging around King’s only son.”

  “And his ex-wife, too. You’ll need to keep an eye on that situation.”

  “I will. Anything else, sir?”

  “That’s it for now. Let’s have everyone meet in my office in ninety minutes. We’ve got a lot of work to do and little time to do it.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Stephanie King stood up in the dark when she heard the distinctive sound of keys jingling beyond the door. Someone was in the hallway and headed her way. She fumbled around like a blind woman and found Jeffrey and Megan on her left. She moved in front of them.

  “Are we going home now, Mommy?” Jeffrey asked, his voice trembling.

  “Not yet, honey,” she answered in a whisper. “But soon. Right now, I need you to be really quiet.”

  “I miss my Daddy,” Megan sobbed in her little girl’s voice, tearing a hole in Stephanie’s heart.

  “I know, sweetheart. I’m sure he misses you, too. I promise, as soon as I can get us out of here, I will. But no matter what happens, I need you to be really brave and not say a word. Can you do that?”

  “I think so. But I’m really scared. I don’t like the dark.”

  “Neither do I, baby. Just stay close. I’ll protect you,” she said, keeping an eye on the thin strip of light leaking in from under the door.

  Just then, two sets of shadows appeared from the right, blocking out some of the light creeping in from the hallway. One pair moved slowly. The other jumped around sporadically.

  A couple of grunts came next, then the sound of a key sliding into the door lock.

  Right on cue, the kids’ four tiny arms locked onto the backs of her legs and squeezed tight as the door opened. Stephanie blinked rapidly when the intense light from the hallway overwhelmed her vision.

  An imposing shadow appeared in the doorway, almost filling the entrance from floor to ceiling. She’d seen this same silhouette earlier, when they were first tossed into the mysterious room.

  The man stood there like a statue. He may have been the same person who kidnapped her in front of Franklin’s horse stables. But she couldn’t be sure. She never saw his face. He’d snuck up from behind and held her and the kids at gunpoint, then quickly gagged them and put black hoods over their heads.

  She knew they were still in Colorado. Somewhere. It only took roughly twenty minutes to get here. Plus, the crunching sound of dirt under the tires never stopped. Neither did the fragrance of the mountain terrain.

  The trip included four turns: three rights and a left, plus they’d traveled over a cattle guard somewhere in the middle. She remembered feeling the rumble of the metal grate immediately after she heard the sound of running water on the right. A river, perhaps. However, they never crossed a bridge, so the waterway was alongside the road, not under it.

  The kidnapper in the doorway finally moved, putting his left arm out and yanking something into view. It was another person—small in stature, hands tied behind their back. A woman, by the body type, with long hair hanging from the hood covering her face.

  The man spun the woman around and used a knife to release her hands, then pulled the hood off. He shoved her into the room. The woman flew forward, tumbling onto her back with her hair covering her face.

  Before the guard slammed the door shut, Stephanie caught a glimpse of the new arrival’s all-black outfit, but the rest was a blur. Her eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the intense light beaming in through the doorway.

  “Are you okay?” Stephanie asked the woman.

  A grunt answered, not a voice.

  “Did the bad men hurt you?” Jeffrey asked the woman in a trembling tone.

  “Shhhh, Jeffrey. Let Mommy handle this.”

  “Stephanie? Is that you?” the new prisoner asked, her tone weak and slow.

  Stephanie recognized the voice, and by extension the all-black outfit. It was a uniform—a deputy sheriff’s uniform—a uniform belonging to Daisy Clark. Her nemesis. The woman who’d ruined her marriage.

  Stephanie couldn’t believe it. How was it possible? She got kidnapped in the middle of nowhere and then ended up in some scary room with the one woman on the planet she hated the most? The situation was already bad enough, and now this?

  “I know you’re there, Steph. It’s me, Daisy.”

  “Yeah, I know who you are. But just because we’re stuck in this hole together doesn’t mean I want to talk to you. S
o just shut up, already.”

  “Deputy Daisy?” Megan asked. “It’s me, Megan.”

  “Megan? They took you, too?”

  “Uh-huh. Is my daddy with you?”

  “No, honey. He’s not. I haven’t seen him since last night. How did you get here?”

  Stephanie decided to take over the conversation since Daisy wasn’t going to keep quiet like she was told. “The three of us were taken in front of Franklin’s place. He was inside the store when someone came up behind us.”

  “So I take it Franklin’s not here with you?”

  “No, it’s just me, my son, and Megan. Franklin went to check out an apparent break-in.”

  “I’m sorry you’re in the middle of this. All of you.”

  “What’s going on? Who is this man?”

  “I don’t know. But there’s more than one of them. Bunker and I were ambushed at Frank Tuttle’s place.”

  “Bunker? Where is he? Is he okay?”

  “I hope so, but I haven’t seen him since they took us hostage.”

  “Let me guess, hoods and handcuffs?”

  “Unfortunately, yes. Then they split us up into different vehicles.”

  Stephanie wanted to ask more questions about Bunker, but couldn’t find the words.

  “They have vehicles that work?” Jeffrey asked, breaking his mandated silence.

  “Apparently. But I’m not sure how,” Daisy answered.

  “What do they want with us?” Stephanie asked, hoping the slut of a law enforcement officer would know something other than how to sleaze her way into her ex-husband’s arms.

  “Ransom, I’m guessing. Your husband is rich, right?”

  Stephanie couldn’t believe the nerve of this woman, bringing up her cheating husband at a time like this. “Well, Daisy, you know he is. So don’t play dumb with me. I’m sure that’s one of the main reasons you did what you did. Oh, and by the way, it’s ex-husband now. So you can have him all to yourself. I’m done with him, forever.”

  There was a short pause before Daisy responded, “I’m pretty sure I told you before that I ended it right after it started. I’m sorry for what happened, Stephanie. I truly am. I never meant to hurt you.”