Bad Road to Nowhere

by Linda Ladd

“You gonna find out soon enough.”

  “You gonna get out of my way now, or do you want me to make you?”

  The guy stepped back, and Novak watched his hands. He didn’t have a gun or he probably would’ve pulled it as soon as his buddy went down. That was a good sign, but surprising. Novak walked past him and crossed the street at an angle. At the truck, he looked back down the hill and saw the guy taking down Novak’s license plate number. If those two bozos were as tough as this town got, he wasn’t going to waste any more time worrying about them.

  Novak got in, fired the ignition, and drove slowly back through the dark streets. The sidewalks had been rolled up, everybody snug as bugs in a rug. All the good folks were fast asleep in their safe, chrysanthemum- and pumpkin-filled neighborhoods. He had a feeling he was soon to meet up with more of the local bad boys, and probably the kind who were a lot more hardcore than the two jokers he’d just dealt with.

  Chapter Nine

  When Novak got back to the Avalon Motor Court, he parked the truck in an empty space in front of the first building, halfway down, just outside an unoccupied room. The curtains were wide open. Lights out. Bed made. He didn’t want anybody sneaking up on him later that night based on the make and license number of his vehicle. He locked up the cab and headed back on foot to his own room in the second building. As he rounded the corner that faced the highway, he stopped and backed into the shadows when headlights appeared at the other end of the building and a vehicle drove slowly toward him. Novak pulled out the .45 and waited there, his back pressed against the brick wall. The response to his altercation with the two thugs had come back on him faster than he had expected.

  The vehicle slowed down near his room. It was a late-model Chevy sedan, silver gray. He wondered how the hell they’d found him so quickly. He hadn’t been expecting that level of expertise. He hadn’t been followed; he’d made sure of that. The passenger door of the sedan opened and the dome light flashed on. A man and a woman sat inside and talked for several seconds before the woman stepped out under the lights and slammed the door. That’s when he recognized her. Mariah Murray, in the flesh, and she was definitely up to no good. Just what he thought would happen. He tried to see the man’s face as he drove past. White male, thirties, maybe, dark hair, dark jacket. Not her new conquest, Richard. Novak had never seen the guy before. Who the hell was he? What was Mariah doing now?

  Novak gave her time to get inside her room, and then he stepped out of the darkness, crossed the parking lot, and let himself into his own door. A moment later, he tapped a knuckle on the connecting door and waited. When she opened it, he grabbed her by both shoulders and swung her around until her back hit hard against the opposite wall. She gasped, the breath knocked out of her, and then she tried to jerk out of his grip. It didn’t happen. He held her tightly, pressed against the wall with his body.

  “Bugger! Let me go, you bloody bastard!”

  That was the first burst of vulgar Aussie slang he’d heard out of her. Now she sounded more like she used to. She was pissed, all right. So was he. “Who the hell was that guy who just dropped you off?”

  Her angry eyes quivered slightly, surprised, but she hid that emotion fast enough. Novak knew whatever she said next was going to be a lie. “Just a guy I picked up at a bar. What’s the big deal? Where’s your truck?”

  “Who is he?”

  “I told you. Just a guy who gave me a ride home.”

  “I told you to stay here until I got back.”

  At that point, Mariah rose up onto her toes and got her face so close that their noses almost touched. She ground out her words, very angry, or pretending to be. “Yeah? Well, I’m not Sarah. I don’t do everything you tell me. So get used to it.”

  Novak tightened his grip on her arms, furious that she was still taunting him with his wife’s name. “I asked you a question, Mariah.”

  Mariah got both palms against his chest and shoved him back as hard as she could. It didn’t budge Novak. He stared down at her, calmer than she was, waiting for an answer, holding her pressed up tightly against the wall. Then suddenly, he’d just had it with her. He let her go and stepped back.

  “I’m out of here. Right now. Tonight. Good luck finding your friend.”

  “Wait, wait just a minute, Will. Oh, for God’s sake, give me a break, will you? What is your problem now?”

  Novak only stared at her.

  “Okay, I’ll tell you. God, you’re still such a pain in the ass. I don’t see how Sarah could put up with your crap.”

  “Leave Sarah out of this, understand me? I don’t want you to even say her name.”

  She had the sense to look ashamed, but that passed quickly. She turned away from his anger.

  Novak waited another moment, but he wasn’t giving her much more time before he loaded his gear and pulled out for good. He should’ve known better than to come with her. How many times in the past had this exact thing happened?

  Mariah paced over to the desk and collapsed down in the chair. She stared at him in silence. “I got bored after you left, so I walked down the street to this little bar. That guy wanted to buy me a drink and then he offered to give me a ride back here. That’s it. End of story. Where have you been, anyway? It’s been hours.”

  “You haven’t changed a bit, Mariah. Still picking up strange guys in bars. Should have known you’d pull something like this. How many times did we have to bail you out of jail after you got drunk and started fights in bars? You haven’t changed, so don’t tell me you have.”

  When he turned away and pulled his duffel bag out of the closet, she came over to him. Started in with her famous wheedling voice.

  “Wait. Don’t go. Please. I need you here. I was just trying to find out something, anything I could about Emma. I have to help you. I have to. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. Why don’t you understand that?”

  “Did you find out anything?”

  “No. Did you?”

  “Yeah, I did. I found out there’s some guy who sends his goons to take out guys who ask too many questions.”

  “About the Triangle Club?”

  “What the hell do you think we’re talking about here, Mariah?”

  “Did they hurt you?”

  “Do I look hurt to you?”

  “I think there would have to be a lot of them to take you down.”

  Novak didn’t say anything. He didn’t like where this thing was heading. He didn’t like anything about being with her. He didn’t like two guys coming after him a few hours after he hit the city limits. But now he was curious. Something was rotten in this little town out in the middle of nowhere, and he was fairly certain that Emma and her little son were caught up in it, entangled like helpless flies in some great big, nasty spider’s web. He wanted to find that spider and smash it under his heel. The idea excited him.

  “Okay, I’ll beg, if that’s what it’s going to take,” Mariah said. “Please stay and help me. I can’t do this alone or I would. I already told you that. I need you, Will.”

  “Well, I can do it alone. If you can do what I say, then I am interested enough to follow through on this case. If you can’t do that, I’m out. Right now. Tonight.”

  “Okay. You have my word. I’ll back off and let you handle it.”

  “Your word doesn’t mean a hell of a lot to me, Mariah.”

  “Hell, Will, what do you want me to do? Swear a bloody oath?”

  “I don’t think swearing a bloody oath would make any difference to you. Lying is in your DNA.”

  “This time I really mean it.”

  “Okay, go back to bed. I’ll sleep on it. You do the same.”

  Again, she lingered inside his room. Novak knew good and well that there was something going on with her. She was hiding something from him, and he knew her well enough to know it. He ought to wash his hands of the whole thing and get out before everything blew up in his face, but now he wanted to know what was going down in this town and how Emma Adamson was involved
. Like he’d said, he’d sleep on it, think about it some more, but now he wanted to meet up with the guy who sent those two incompetents to take him down for asking a few questions in a bar.

  Mariah finally flounced out, and as soon as the door closed behind her, he slid the bolt lock and put his ear to the door to make sure she didn’t leave the room again. He didn’t believe her, and he needed to find out what she was up to before she pulled something he couldn’t get her out of. He sat down on the bed and pulled out his cell phone. He punched in a number and waited. It took three rings before Claire Morgan picked up at her end.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t the big silent one himself. Everything goin’ okay down there in NOLA?”

  Novak smiled at the sound of her voice. He was glad to hear it. He missed her. That was rare for him. Missing somebody. He hadn’t let many women get next to him since his wife had died, but Claire? Well, she was one of a kind. He could trust her with anything and rest assured she would never let him down.

  “Everything’s fine. But I’m not in New Orleans.”

  “Where are you?”

  “North Georgia.”

  “What the hell’s going on up there? We get a case? Or did you just call to shoot the bull?”

  “How’s the honeymoon going?”

  “Well, just let me tell you. This honeymoon is one giant extravaganza of super-duper, honey-look-at-this, wowee excitement. For damn sure. Black pulled out all the stops. You know how he is. Always throwin’ around his money, tryin’ to make me happy.”

  Novak could hear Nicholas Black say something in the near background that made Claire laugh. Novak knew how Black was, all right. He was nuts about his new wife and would do just about anything for Claire, anything at all, and she pretty much did everything Black was afraid she’d get hurt doing. “Did I get you guys at a bad time?”

  “Nope. We are now luxuriating on a big chaise longue on a giant black yacht sailing us all around the Hawaiian Islands. On lend from Jonas Quinn himself, and that’s because he’s so grateful to us for finding his daughter. And that includes you, so you should be aboard, too. We’re headed to the big island of Hawaii right now. Black wants to show me Kilauea, you know, the volcano that spews out all the lava. Harve and Rico flew out here a few days ago so they could go sailing about with us. Want to come out, too? This boat’s got a ton of guest rooms.”

  “I’ll pass this time. Think Harve would have some time on his hands to do me a favor?”

  “That’s all he’s got on his hands at the moment. There are servants galore on this tub.” Then she got serious. “What’s up? You in trouble?”

  “No. I’m working a case. Not for the agency. A personal thing.”

  “Up in Georgia?”

  “In a little hamlet called Sikeston. I’m looking for a woman.”

  That made Claire laugh. “Well, that’s something I never expected to hear come out of your mouth. The looking for a woman part, anyway. Not unless she was kidnapped.”

  “It’s something like that. This lady’s missing, presumed dead, but my sister-in-law thinks otherwise.”

  “Didn’t know you had a sister-in-law. But I don’t know a lot of things about you. Not anything, to be exact. Okay, what do you need? I’m pretty bored with all this fun and sun and good cheer on this floating palace. How can I help?”

  “I’m gonna give you some names. See if Harve’ll work up a background check and email it to my phone. Everything he can get on them. Okay?”

  “You got it,” she said, and then said aside, “Hey, Black, hand me that pen.”

  “Thanks, Claire,” Novak said.

  “Want me to come back and help you find this girl?”

  Black didn’t like the sound of that, not from what Novak could overhear. Novak smiled. Quite a couple, these two were. “Nope, I got this. When are you two comin’ back?”

  “Don’t know. I’m letting Black decide that. You take care up there in the sticks, okay? Don’t get yourself in the kind of trouble that you can’t get out of. If there even is any kind of trouble you can’t get out of.”

  “Right. You, too.” He hesitated. “Hey, Claire. How’s Black doing?”

  Claire lowered her voice. “Better. Lots better. He was a little shaky at first, you know, a few nightmares and stuff. But he’s got it under control now. He’s fine. He’s enjoying himself. Doesn’t want to leave yet.”

  Black had been through a hell of a lot a few months back. Got captured and held by a family of crazies who happened to be his sworn enemies. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

  They hung up, and Novak listened at the connecting door a moment to see if Mariah had gone out again. All remained quiet, the parking lot deserted, so he lay down fully dressed, his .45 on the bed beside him. He’d been warned off, and he always took advance warnings seriously. And this one had come through loud and clear.

  Chapter Ten

  Fairly certain now that he was going to run into trouble sooner rather than later, Novak left the motel an hour before dawn and headed out to the highway. He had no trouble finding Bear Creek Road on his phone’s GPS, and he took a ramp onto it fifteen minutes later. It veered northeast through the mountainous and rural portion of the state. As he drove along, it began to look as if he’d entered an endless wilderness of pine and oak and every other kind of hardwood imaginable. Remote, wooded, isolated. Just what the doctor ordered for hiding an abducted woman and her small child.

  After a half hour longer on twisting and turning and narrow, blacktopped roads, elevation gradually increasing, Novak finally reached his destination. The Triangle Club was not on the main road but farther back inside a heavily wooded private tract of land. There was a small sign at the side of the road. Had a triangle on it. Nothing else. No writing. No directions. He turned and found the way into the club was pretty bad. Narrow, dirt, serpentine, ungraded, with lots of overhanging tree branches low enough to scrape the paint off his front fenders. He didn’t pass a single house on the way in, which told him he was approaching a private club built on private land by private individuals. All the better for most criminal activities.

  The club/strip joint finally came into view when the road dead-ended after about ten minutes spent jouncing and bouncing over rocks and ruts. People who made the drive really wanted to go there. Novak stopped at the edge of a big clearing and sat with the motor idling while he stared at his objective. One long structure, built almost like a motel, except this one was constructed of logs and had no windows. Not a single one. A wide planked porch ran across the front. Only one door, steel and sturdy, right in the middle of the front façade and directly above a flight of steps made from logs sawed in half. The place was closed up tight. Deserted. Quiet.

  There were no identifying signs on the building, except for one giant yellow neon triangle on the peaked roof, now turned off. No cars anywhere on the graveled parking lot. Nobody anywhere, not that Novak could ascertain. No movement. No sign of life. After a moment, he pulled out onto the thick and heavy gray gravel, his wheels crunching over it as he made his way to the front of the building. He waited there a few moments and then stepped out of the cab and glanced around. More silence except for the wind, high up in the trees. Novak was finding north Georgia to be a windy locale. At least at the moment. The pine boughs were tossing about like crazy. After a hard night of debauchery and sin, everybody had gone home to crash and recharge for more bawdy behavior, he assumed. When dark rolled down over the sky, all that good fun would start up again with hell to pay inside those log walls.

  Climbing up the front steps, he found two video cameras set up at each end of the porch, up high in the corners. A third camera was focused on any visitor who neared the front door. They were recording his every move right now, that was for sure. But that’s what he wanted them to do. He wanted them to get a good look at him. He stared directly up at the camera above the door.

  For a few minutes, he stood there and considered picking the lock and having a good look around inside
while nobody was at home. He nixed that idea. It looked easy enough, and he had the lock-pick kit in his coat pocket. On the other hand, it wasn’t hard to figure out what lay on the other side of that door. During his years in the service, he’d been in plenty of bars and strip joints and brothels all over the world. He hadn’t found an iota of difference between them, except for the language spoken, the currency poked down inside G-strings, and the taste of the cheap hooch.

  Novak would come back later and have a look around when the place was jumping, join their exclusive little party, so to speak, and make it damn clear that he wasn’t afraid of them. He didn’t like being threatened or called off. Never had. Sometimes he wanted to fight. Just wanted to ram his fist hard into somebody’s face. A desire that ate at him until the first opportunity arose. Turning back, he descended the steps to the deep gravel and walked slowly around to the back of the place. No windows there, either, a distinct fire hazard. In the rear of the building, he located another double steel door facing out into another thick copse of trees. Four identical green fifty-gallon trash cans were lined up beside the low stoop, a pair on each side. Similar cameras were affixed to catch any loiterers and record their every movement.

  Novak checked the trash receptacles, found them full of bottles and beer cans and trash, and then walked around to the other side, slightly surprised that no one had been left guarding the place. Maybe their initial threats and sending of goons acted to intimidate most people. Maybe they were expecting him to flee with his tail between his legs. Back at the truck, he opened the door and got inside. He sat there, waiting a few minutes to see if anybody monitoring the cameras saw fit to take his bait and show up for a second confrontation. Nobody did. He started the truck and took off back to town.

  By the time he reached the Avalon Motor Lodge, Mariah was gone again. Damn her. No telling where she was or what she was doing. As it turned out, he pretty much found out what she’d been doing, but nearly two hours later. He was lying on the bed, half asleep, when somebody pounded on his door. He picked up his weapon off the bedside table and parted the drapes with the gun barrel. It was Mariah, and she was alone. He swung open the door.