Rebel Guns of Alpha Centauri (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 3)

by John Bowers

  “I am NOT LYING TO YOU!!”

  Nick stared at him a moment longer, then turned to Nelson.

  “Let’s get him over to the jail and book him. Nicodemus can use the company.”

  Nick checked in with Jerry Dwyer after Groening was booked and placed in a cell. Dwyer’s people had been on the lookout for Suzanne since the night before, with no results. Dozens of people had recognized her holograph and reported seeing her on the street Monday morning, but no one had seen her since Monday noon. The bungalow had been searched for evidence, but aside from breath trace from two individuals that could not be accounted for, no useful forensics had been found.

  The bottom line was that two strangers had been in the house just before Suzanne disappeared, and the neighbor had reported squealing tires, so it more or less erased any doubt of abduction. Where she had been taken was now the mystery.

  “I’m sorry, Marshal,” Dwyer said sincerely. “We’ll keep looking.”

  Nick nodded soberly. “Thanks, Chief.”

  He walked back out to the street with Nelson and stood in the midmorning sun, a gentle breeze caressing his face.

  “We’ll find her, Nick,” Nelson said. “At this point I’m inclined to agree with you that some of Groening’s people have her.”

  Nick nodded. “But where? Their territory stretches almost a hundred miles. It might take weeks to find her.”

  “If we knew why she was taken, it might help narrow it down. What would be the kidnapper’s goal? We haven’t had any demands yet.”

  “She may just be their insurance policy, in case I get too close to whatever is going on out there.”

  Nelson’s eyes narrowed. “You mean the arms cache?”

  Nick nodded. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”

  “But no one knows you found it, except that one guy—”

  “Pickard.”

  “Right. And if your neighbor’s memory is right, Suzanne was already missing before you even got back to town.”

  Nick grimaced. Nelson was right—his discovery of the arms cache had occurred almost simultaneously with the kidnapping, which seemed to rule out any connection between the two events. But there had to be some reason for her abduction! What the hell could it be? Was someone still trying to take revenge because of the bell tower eight years ago?

  “I’m gonna head home for a bit,” he told Nelson. “I want to go through the house again and see if there’s anything I missed. I’ll see you after lunch.”

  “Watch your ass. After you arrested that kid I thought this thing was over, but it may not be.”

  Nick nodded grimly, glanced up and down the street, and set off walking.

  The Kristoferson farm – Alpha Centauri 2

  Darius Groening pulled into the yard at the Kristoferson farm in a dilapidated ground car that pulled a trail of smoke behind it. When he stopped, the smoke swirled over the car in a greasy cloud, dissipating slowly after he killed the engine. The boy stepped out of the vehicle and waved his hand to clear the smoke, then walked toward the stoop-shouldered man carrying a basket of eggs from the barn toward the house. Enos Kristoferson stopped when he saw him and stood rigid as he approached. Enos did not look happy.

  “My pop wants to know how the prisoner is doing,” Darius said, taking an officious air with the older man.

  “She’s fine,” Enos said quietly. “I just gave her some breakfast a little while ago.”

  “She didn’t try to run?”

  “No. How much longer do I have to hold her here.”

  Darius smirked. “Until we come and get her.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  Enos stiffened even more, his face growing red with anger. He understood church government and had no choice but to obey those God had placed above him, but this snot-nosed boy held no authority whatsoever except for his last name. He might eventually be ordained Prophet, but that hadn’t happened yet and wouldn’t for many years.

  “Tell Titus I would appreciate knowing how long the woman has to be here.”

  “He’ll let you know.” The kid was enjoying his role. Enos clenched his hands so hard the egg basket began to shake.

  “She saw my face,” he said. “She knows my name. She can identify me. I never wanted any part of this, and now I’m facing prison when that marshal finds her!”

  Darius shrugged and yawned leisurely.

  “Then we’ll just have to make sure the marshal never finds her. Plenty of places she can disappear.”

  Enos took an angry step forward. “That makes me accessory to murder! Are you out of your mind?”

  Darius widened his eyes arrogantly.

  “You will do as you’re told!” he retorted. “My dad knows exactly what he’s doing, so put it out of your mind.”

  Enos glared at him, breathing hard. The boy gazed calmly back, taunting him with a little grin.

  “I swear to heaven, if you were my son I’d—”

  “I’m not your son! I’m Titus Groening’s son. You’d best remember that.”

  Darius turned toward the vehicle, which still steamed in the cool morning air. He glanced back over his shoulder.

  “Pop says the woman will be moved tonight. You got your knickers in a knot for nothing.”

  Enos could hear the boy laughing as he drove away, his vehicle largely obscured by blue smoke.

  “Insolent little devil!” Enos muttered angrily. “If anyone should be stoned, it’s you!”

  Enos turned toward the house and carried the eggs up the steps to the screened back porch. As he entered the porch he saw his daughter sitting on the sill facing the screen. She was staring at him with a curious look in her eyes.

  “Parthena! Don’t you have chores?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  “Well, get to them.” He reached for the kitchen door.

  “Papa?”

  He hesitated.

  “Are they going to kill the lady?”

  Enos Kristoferson, forty-two, felt a jolt of electricity flash through his body. He stared at the golden-haired child with naked guilt in his eyes.

  “Of course not! What are you talking about?”

  “Darius said the lady has to disappear so the marshal can never find her.”

  “Darius is a loudmouth brat. All he meant was that they’re going to hide her.”

  “But you said it was murder. Doesn’t that mean killing?”

  Enos felt the strength leave his body. He set the basket down and leaned against the wall. He stared at his little girl with no idea what to say.

  “She isn’t evil, Papa. She’s a nice lady.”

  “What… How do you know that? Have you been talking to her?”

  Parthena nodded solemnly. “I talked to her last night. Her name is Suzanne. I think that’s a pretty name, don’t you?”

  “Parthena…I told you to stay away from her! She’s a wicked woman!”

  “No she isn’t. I asked her if she was the devil’s wife and she told me she’s not even married. You were wrong, Papa. She doesn’t even know the devil. She prays to someone named Sophia.”

  Enos felt his mind swirl in confusion. This was getting out of hand! Now his child was getting involved.

  “Parthena, it’s complicated. You’re too young to understand these things…”

  “I know I’m young, but I go to church and I can tell if someone is wicked or not. The lady isn’t wicked.”

  Enos smiled in an attempt to disarm the conversation. “How could you know, honey? You’ve never met a wicked person before.”

  “Yes I have. I’ve met Darius. He’s wicked.”

  The smile died on his face. He stared at the innocent child before him and saw true righteousness, very unlike that projected by his church leaders. A wave of cold fear washed through him…what would happen to this child if he went to prison for aiding in this satanic scheme? Worse, what would his daughter think of him if he allowed things to get any worse?
r />   “Don’t let them kill her, Papa. She hasn’t done anything wrong.”

  “She’s an unbeliever, Parthena. An infidel.” It was a weak argument and he knew it.

  “That’s not her fault. When she was growing up she was taught something different than we were. Nobody should kill her if it’s not her fault.”

  Enos took a step forward and pulled the girl against him, hugging her tight and closing his eyes with indecision.

  “Don’t concern yourself with it, child. It’s out of our hands.”

  Parthena pulled back and looked up at him. Enos was surprised to see tears flowing down her cheeks.

  “No it isn’t, Papa. We still have time to help her. Please, Papa! She’s my friend.”

  The Trimmer Plain – Alpha Centauri 2

  Twelve miles northeast of Millennium Village, Titus Groening parked his car under a stand of willow trees and cut the engine. It was just noon and Alpha Prime was directly overhead. The day had warmed considerably, but the air was still pleasantly cool. Titus stepped out of the vehicle and walked into the trees, relieved himself, then checked his watch. The road stretched away for thirty miles to the horizon, and few farms were located in this area, though he could see one in the distance. He didn’t know exactly where the spacecraft would land and didn’t want to know—the meetings, rare as they were, always took place right here. His contact would arrive in a hovercar.

  Seven minutes later he saw it coming, a glitter of glass and metal thirty feet above the road. Coming like a demon. He felt his stomach knot with dread, but took several deep breaths to calm his nerves. Unpleasant as it was, this had to be done, and he was the only one to do it. He remained under cover of the trees as the hovercar approached and began to slow. A minute later it settled onto a grassy area a few yards away, the turbines died, and a clamshell door popped open. Two men stepped down and walked toward him.

  Titus Groening had never met the devil, but had a pretty good idea what he must look like. The approaching men reminded him of that image, which did nothing to settle his jitters. But he stood his ground as they approached, hoping they couldn’t detect his insecurity.

  One of the men was about his height, the other a couple of inches shorter. Both were powerfully built and intimidating. Dark shades hid their eyes, their clothing was military issue—dappled camo, combat boots, and webbed pistol belts. They exuded an aura of evil that, by comparison, made Star Marines look like choirboys.

  As they stood before him with crossed arms, Titus cleared his throat.

  “Thank you for coming,” he said, trying to keep the tremor out of his voice.

  “Wot is so important?” the tall one demanded, his accent harsh and accusing.

  “We have a problem.”

  “Wot problem?”

  Titus stared at him a moment, then heaved a deep breath.

  “My father’s been arrested.”

  The two men only gazed at him.

  “The U.F. Marshal picked him up on attempted murder charge. He’s going to prison for a long time.”

  The taller visitor glanced at his companion, then back at Titus. He shrugged.

  “So? Why is this problem?”

  Titus frowned slightly. Was the man an idiot?

  “You can have your stuff back,” he said. “I don’t need it anymore.”

  Silence reigned for ten seconds. Both men stared at him as if he were food.

  “This not part of deal. You want stuff, we deliver stuff. Now is your stuff. Not ours.”

  Titus blinked. A cold chill rippled across his skin.

  “But I don’t need it any more. Look, I’ll pay for your trouble—”

  “Was no trouble! Goot business, just like first time.”

  Titus shifted from one foot to the other.

  “Look, I don’t think you understand. With my old man gone, if anyone finds that stuff, they’ll think it’s mine.”

  “Is yours!”

  “No, no, it was supposed to look like my father’s stuff, not mine. I don’t need it anymore. I don’t want it. I have no use for it.”

  “You make deal. Is your stuff.”

  “You can get your money back. Just sell it to someone else.”

  “We sell to you. Is your stuff now. You already make first payment, now you owe the rest.”

  “But—”

  The taller man took a threatening step forward.

  “You not going to pay?”

  “I— Yes, I was going to pay, just like we agreed, but—now I don’t need it anymore, so it’s just money wasted.”

  “You pay us, money not wasted.” The man poked him in the chest with an iron finger. “Is your stuff. You make payments like agreed. If we come back, you not be happy.”

  He glared at Titus a moment, then turned away. Titus stared after them as they returned to their hovercar, his throat suddenly dry. As their hovercar streaked back the way it had come, he sagged with relief.

  He felt a sudden urge to pee again.

  Chapter 31

  Nick went through the house twice, but found nothing new. Suzanne had come back from seeing Mildred Trimmer and disappeared. It appeared she hadn’t been in the house more than a few minutes—the only sign of a disturbance was the open door to the nitro-cooler and the fact that she’d left her handbag behind.

  Nick was in a quandary. He sat down at the table and tried to put the pieces together. The only motive he could think of for someone taking Suzanne would be revenge against him, but Nicodemus Downing was the only person he knew with that deep a grudge, and he was locked up. Was someone else in the Groaner cult mad enough at him to take it out on Suzanne?

  More important at the moment, did they intend to harm her or use her as some kind of leverage? It was enough to drive him crazy.

  He was about to fix himself a sandwich and head back to the office when he heard a knock on the door. That surprised him—he and Suzanne hadn’t had any visitors since they moved in and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He rested his hand on his laser pistol as he walked through the living room and opened the door. The three people standing on his front porch were the last people in the universe he expected to see.

  “Good afternoon, Marshal Walker,” Drusilla Downing said in a formal voice. “Is Suzanne at home?”

  Nick stared at the old lady with his mouth half open. She was dressed in her Sunday best, a 19th Century promenade dress, bonnet, and a parasol resting on her shoulder. Her face was relaxed and she almost looked friendly. Dorcas stood next to her in similar garb, and Maggie was slightly behind them, smiling.

  Nick realized he was gaping and closed his mouth. He stepped back and held the door for them.

  “Please, come in. I-I wasn’t expecting you.”

  Drusilla led the parade as they marched inside, glanced around with critical eyes, and turned to face him.

  “Suzanne didn’t tell you we were coming?”

  “I… No, she didn’t. In fact…” Nick cleared his mind and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Downing, I don’t know where Suzanne is. I haven’t seen her since yesterday morning.”

  The woman’s brow wrinkled in a frown.

  “Well, that’s odd. She invited us for lunch.”

  “She did? When was this?”

  “Yesterday morning. Just before noon.”

  Nick invited them to sit down, then pulled a chair up facing them.

  “Where did this conversation take place?”

  “In front of the police station. We had just been to see Nicodemus and met her as we came out.” The woman lowered her eyes with embarrassment. “Marshal, I must say I believe I misjudged her. She really is a remarkable person. A kind person.”

  Nick nodded slowly, realizing that it took courage for the woman to admit that.

  “Thank you. Yes, she is.”

  “I’m sorry we won’t get to see her. I’ve been looking forward to this visit, and so has Maggie.”

  Nick glanced at the girl, whose eyes had never left his face. He turned back to the gra
ndmother.

  “Mrs. Downing, I’m sorry it didn’t work out this time. If she invited you here then she intended to be here. But she’s been missing for a full day.”

  “Missing!” Drusilla placed a hand over her heart. “When you said you hadn’t seen her, I didn’t realize it was that serious.”

  “I…believe she’s been kidnapped.”

  All three visitors gasped in shock. Maggie lost her smile.

  “My goodness!” Drusilla exclaimed. “Who would do such a thing?”

  I can think of two or three people, Nick didn’t say.

  “Mrs. Downing, I know that Father Groening and Titus don’t like me very much, especially since what happened on Sunday. Do you think either of them is capable of something like this?”

  He asked the question with some trepidation, fearful they might take it as an accusation against themselves for their association with the cult. But Drusilla merely shook her head.

  “Antiochus is a stubborn man,” she said slowly. “He can be hard and unyielding. But I don’t believe he would harm an outsider on a grudge.”

  “What about Titus?”

  “Titus is ambitious. He will be the next Prophet, and sometimes I think he’s in a hurry to claim the title. If I were to suspect either of them, it would be him.”

  Nick nodded and filed away the information.

  “Can you think of anyone else in your group who might be capable of this?”

  Drusilla and Dorcas exchanged glances. Pain passed between them.

  “If Nicodemus weren’t in jail, I might mention him,” the old lady said. “Until a few days ago I would never have dreamed him capable of any sort of violence, but…”

  “We can safely rule him out,” Nick said. “As you said, he’s in jail.”

  “There might be others,” Drusilla admitted, “but most of them would only do it under orders.”

  Nick’s eyes narrowed. She noticed.