Broken Boys_The Extractor

by L. J. Sellers

  Chapter 29

  Monday, July 10, 9:07 a.m., Portland

  Rox checked the time. It was finally after nine. She called the state office and waited through five rings. A woman with a pleasant voice answered. “This is Beth Frasier with the Oregon Business Registry. How can I help you?”

  “I’m Karina Jones, a private investigator. I’m looking into a company that may be involved in the disappearance of two teenage boys.” That should get her attention.

  “Oh dear. Have you called the police?”

  “Yes, of course. But the company operates in several states, and I need all the information I can get.”

  “What’s the name?”

  “Fletcher & Sons.” Marty had found the name on an office door after tailing Curtis Fletcher, but it hadn’t come up in her search of the state’s site.

  After a long moment, the clerk came back on the call. “That business is no longer registered, but I think it just changed names. Give me another minute.”

  Rox paced while she waited. Even a dance workout that morning hadn’t taken the edge off. She wanted to get on the road again and find Josh. ASAP.

  “Found it,” the woman said, sounding pleased. “It’s now Fletcher Investments.”

  “Does it own other businesses?” Rox keyed the name into the search bar as she talked. The company didn’t come up.

  “It has several fully-owned subsidiaries. Ridgeline Wilderness Health, Ridgeline Get Straight, and RWH Transport.” The woman made a noise in her throat. “It also owns a fifty-percent share in Wild Girls Galore and Steelhead Bistro.”

  Anxiety rippled through Rox’s body. The strip club didn’t surprise her because Marty had tailed Fletcher to the lounge and told her about it. But the restaurant was co-owned by her client, and Lovejoy had failed to mention that his ex-wife’s new boyfriend was his investment partner. But that connection explained the photo she’d seen. The business deal might even be how Carrie Lovejoy met Curtis Fletcher and had the affair.

  “Is that all you need?” the administrator asked.

  Rox felt rattled by her client’s involvement with Fletcher. Why hadn’t he told her? Focus! Right now she needed to know more about the damn transport company and whether it operated a local office. It didn’t make sense to send vans from Nevada to pick up kids for an Oregon camp. “Does RWH list any phone numbers?”

  “No, we just have the one for the registered agent.”

  “Thank you.” Rox hung up. There had to be a reasonable explanation for how the two men had met—such as the Community Fellowship. Lovejoy had sounded scornful when he mentioned it, but he might be a disillusioned ex-member. And Tommy’s mother attended the church’s other branch. Or whatever they were called. Rox was more convinced than ever that Tommy’s death was somehow connected to the Fellowship or Ridgeline or both. She would bet money that the two boys knew other, even if their parents didn’t know about their friendship.

  A dark thought engulfed her. What if Josh had killed Tommy? Maybe even accidentally. That would explain why his personality had changed and he’d become moody and angry. But how and why? It seemed unlikely. And if he hadn’t, he was still a fifteen-year-old boy in a dangerous situation. She needed to get him out.

  Desperate for answers, Rox called Doernbecher Children’s Hospital and tried to explain her situation. “I found the girl in the woods and took her to the hospital in Bend. Then she was transported to your facility. She was unconscious the whole time, so I don’t know her name. But I’d like to follow up and find out how she’s doing.”

  “Without a name, I’m not sure I can help you, but I’ll ask the ER and see what I can find out.”

  While she waited, Rox went to the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee—even though she really wanted a beer. But it was a little too early.

  Finally, the receptionist came back on. “Her name is Sadie Carmichael. She’s still in the ICU, but she’s going to recover. That’s all I can tell you. And I probably just violated patient privacy, but since you saved her life—” Her voice trailed off, and the woman hung up.

  Rox called Marty and told him about the connection between Lovejoy and Fletcher, a man they’d both become suspicious of. “These cases are starting to feel incestuous.”

  “I’m sure they all know each other because of the church.” Marty didn’t sound worried.

  Rox decided not to share her darkest suspicion. It seemed irrational to her now. “I’m going to the hospital to see that girl we rescued. Maybe she can tell us something. Want to tag along?”

  “I can’t. I have a doctor’s appointment. Update me when you’re back.”

  “Will do.”

  As Rox reached the big medical center on the hill, her work phone rang on the seat beside her. She glanced at the ID. Scott Goodwin. She pressed the button on her earpiece. “Hello.”

  “Hi, Karina.” He sounded sexy as ever. “I saw that you called last night. Do you have new information?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t. But I need to return your deposit.”

  “I can meet you today. What time works for you?”

  “Let me get back to you about that. I’ve suddenly got a lot going on with my other case today.”

  “Did you figure out where the wilderness program is? I still think Tommy might have been there. Maybe he escaped and came back to Portland, then ran into trouble.”

  She hadn’t thought about that. “I got close to finding the base camp, but it had moved. I’ll try again soon. Maybe today.”

  “Good luck.” Someone in the background was trying to get his attention. “I’m sorry,” Goodwin said in a rush, “but I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

  Rox drove around the medical complex for ten minutes looking for a parking space. It took another ten minutes to walk to the correct building, get through the ICU’s security, and find Sadie Carmichael. The door was open, and Rox saw a couple about her age, the woman standing by the bed and the man in a chair by the window. Probably the girl’s parents.

  “Hello?” Rox called out softly. They both turned and stared with blank looks. “I’m Karina Jones. I found Sadie in the woods and brought her to the hospital in Bend.”

  The mother rushed forward and threw her arms around Rox. Startled, she forced herself to relax and let the woman hug her. But she had to pull back after a moment.

  “Thank you!” The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “When Ridgeline called and said she’d disappeared, I was devastated.”

  The father came forward. “I’m Allan Carmichael, and this is my wife, Ginger. We’re forever in your debt.”

  Warmth surfaced in her cheeks, surprising her. Rox hadn’t expected this. “We just did what anyone would. My stepdad was there with me.”

  The mother, a pretty woman with soft curls, grabbed Rox’s hand. “The ER doctors said you kept Sadie alive with CPR and body warmth.”

  Rox wanted to run from the room, but she needed information. She gently pulled her hand free. “I’m just glad Sadie is okay.”

  “She was conscious a minute ago,” the father said. “Maybe she’ll wake up again.”

  Rox shifted on her feet. “I’m trying to find the Ridgeline camp so I can get another teenager home. Can you help me?”

  The mother burst into tears. Allan Carmichael put his arm around his wife. “We’re so upset. We thought the program would help Sadie grow up. Instead it almost killed her.”

  “How did she get the pills?” the distressed mother asked. “Was she trying to get high or kill herself? The Ridgeline office won’t return my calls.”

  Rox didn’t have any answers. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what happened to your daughter. And I’m afraid something similar will happen to the young man I’m looking for.”

  “He’s not your child?” The mother looked confused.

  “I’m a private investigator. I was hired to find my client’s son.” Rox realized that keeping Josh’s name private wasn’t helping. Maybe the girl had known him or seen him in the
camps. “Has Sadie talked about her experience at all?”

  The father shook his head. “She’s only been conscious off and on and was a little incoherent. She mentioned a river and being hungry, but that doesn’t make sense.”

  Had these people not done their homework before they signed up their kid? “Did Ridgeline send a transport van to pick up Sadie?”

  “Yes, they said we had to do it that way.” The mother shuddered. “They came in the middle of the night. I felt so terrible.”

  “Do you know how to contact the transport company? This is important.”

  The father reached in his pocket. “I think it’s owned by Ridgeline, but the call should still be logged in my phone. They checked in with us an hour before they showed up.” Mr. Carmichael scrolled through his data. “Sorry. This could take a minute. I have to scroll back a few weeks.”

  “He gets a lot of calls.” His wife looked back and forth, her attention divided between her husband and her daughter. Rox glanced at the girl in the bed. Her face was pink and covered with insect bites, not deathly pale anymore.

  A few minutes later, the father let out a happy yelp. “I found it.” He held out the phone for her to see the number. It had an Oregon area code, either Portland or Salem, the capital to the south. Rox memorized the numerals automatically, but keyed it into her phone just to reassure the Carmichaels. “Thank you.” She started to leave, then turned back. “Don’t let Ridgeline get away with this. Call the state district attorney and report their irresponsible behavior.”

  The father nodded. “We plan to sue them as well, even though our contract says we can’t.”

  “Good luck.” Rox handed them her business card. “Please have Sadie call me as soon as she can. She might be able to help me find the camp and save someone else.”

  “We will.” The mother squeezed her hand again. “Bless you.”

  Rox hurried out, already plotting how she would trick the transport office into giving her its address.

  Chapter 30

  When she arrived home, Rox headed straight to Marty’s side of the duplex. She knocked, waited impatiently for him to give the okay, then hurried in. “I have the number for the Oregon transport office. Plus an idea for getting the address.”

  “Excellent!” Marty hurried toward her, wiping his hands dry on a stained blue work shirt. “How’d you get it?”

  “The girl’s parents were in her hospital room, and the dad had the number in his phone. Her name is Sadie, by the way.” Rox tried to assess what Marty had been fixing or cleaning. “Powerwashing your patio?”

  “Good guess, but not quite.” He grinned. “Your patio.”

  “Thanks.” She shook her head and silently mouthed, You’re a freak!

  Marty rolled his eyes. “What’s your plan to get the address?”

  “An important delivery. I say I’m from Fed Ex and can’t read the address on the package.”

  “What if they haven’t ordered anything?” Marty made his skeptical face.

  “Okay, it’s not a package but a certified envelope—that looks like a check.”

  Her stepdad nodded. “That should do it.”

  “They might not even be leery of giving out the information.” She backtracked on that thought. "The office is probably run out of a metal building with no sign and no business listing.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  “Get me a beer, please.”

  Marty hurried to the kitchen and Rox followed, sitting down at the table. She pulled out her work phone and keyed in the transport office number. No one answered. Damn. She left a message. “This is Fed Ex, and we have a certified letter for you. Please call back to confirm your address.” She read off her business number, which was paid for with cash and untraceable.

  Marty sat down and handed her a cold microbrew. “I’ll call Bowman and see if he can get an address to match the phone number. It might be in the call center database or a reverse directory.” While Marty left his ex-partner a message, Rox drank her beer and raided her stepdad’s kitchen, packing food for another road trip. They’d left most of the camping stuff by Marty’s front door, ready to roll.

  While they waited, they ate leftovers and talked about prepping for the trip. Ten minutes later, her work phone rang—from the number she’d just contacted. She grabbed it and clicked over to speakerphone. “Fed Ex.”

  “You guys called here looking for our address.”

  The man sounded big and dumb, but maybe that was just how she visualized the escorts.

  “Who’s the letter addressed to?” he asked.

  Oh hell. She hadn’t thought about that. Scrambling, she muttered, “It just says Manager.”

  “Huh? What kind of letter?”

  “I think it’s a check. It says do not discard, and it has that little window in the envelope.”

  “Okay. Drop it by.” He named a number and street she didn’t recognize.

  “Any helpful directions?”

  “The gray metal building at the back of the lot. There’s no sign or anything, but a white van is parked out front.”

  “All right. We’ll try to find it.” Rox hung up and grinned at Marty. “I called it, didn’t I?”

  “On the nose.” Marty stood and cleared the table. “Where is that location? It doesn’t sound like Portland.”

  “I think it’s Salem.” Rox keyed the address into a map app on her phone. “It would make sense to put the van in the middle of the state with the most direct route to Sun Ridge.” The address came up in an industrial area in the south part of Salem. “Time to pack for another trip to the wilderness, then hit the road.”

  Marty put away his unfinished beer. “We may have to watch the transport office for days before the van goes out.”

  “Maybe.”

  “And we both have to stay in the vehicle. If the van leaves, we have to be right on it. There’s no stopping to pick up the other person.”

  “I’m prepared for that.”

  “It could get ugly.”

  What was he worried about? “You think I can’t handle a long stakeout?”

  “I’m not sure I can.” Marty rubbed his head. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and find a nearby hotel where we can take breaks. If the one on duty sees anyone get in the van, we make a quick call. Whoever is on break bolts out to the parking lot, ready to go.”

  “Good plan.” Rox stood. “I left a bag packed, so this won’t take long. Meet you out front in fifteen minutes.”

  Chapter 31

  Josh hobbled along the dirt road, the stabbing pain in his ankle worse with each step. He worried about doing long-term damage to his body, but the taste of freedom pushed him forward. He wanted to live long enough to talk to his father again, maybe even tell him about that shameful weekend. He had to tell somebody. His mentor—ex-mentor!—had to be stopped. Josh let out a sob of relief. After two weeks without pot or Vicodin, he was finally thinking clearly again.

  He wanted to stop and rest, but he was still twenty-some miles from the nearest town. And phone. Who would he call? His parents weren’t available anymore. Josh fought back tears. Now that he was no longer a prisoner and could think about his real life, Josh’s heart began to ache. His mom had been flaky and annoying, but he still loved her. Thinking about her wasn’t helping. He needed a plan. Who would he call? His Aunt Lynn in Seattle. She would help him. She might even hire a lawyer for his dad.

  A few minutes later, he reached an asphalt road. Relief washed over him, and he sank to the ground and let himself cry. When he got to his feet again, his resolve was stronger. Now that he was on a real road, someone might come along and give him a ride. An image of the camp’s truck flashed in his mind. A Ridgeline employee could drive by too, so he had to be careful. If he heard an engine, he would step off the asphalt and hide behind a tree until he could see the vehicle. If it looked safe, he would run out and flag down the driver. Hobble, he corrected. What if he couldn’t move quickly enough?

  Don’t think about it.
Just put one foot in front of the other. Ignore the pain and keep moving.

  Late that afternoon, dizziness, exhaustion, and pain overtook him. His water long gone, Josh dropped to his knees, his throat raw and his lips sunburned. He crawled into the shade of a pine tree, thinking he would rest for ten minutes, then try again.

  He woke to the sound of a diesel engine chugging up the mountain. Struggling to his feet, Josh prayed for the driver to be hiker or hunter—anyone but a Ridgeline employee. He stepped behind the thick tree to watch a truck come up the straight incline. It was black! Yay! Not the white van that had brought him to this hellhole and not the gray truck that carried the base equipment. He hurried toward the road, limping and shuffling as fast as he could.

  At the truck neared the crest, it started to slow. Josh raised his arm to wave it down, then froze. Two men were in the front cab. They both wore red T-shirts and were staring right at him. Shit! Heart thumping, he turned and tried to run into the woods. But his ankle flared in pain and he fell. He started crawling but it was pointless.

  Heavy footsteps came at him fast. No! He couldn’t go back! Josh looked for a rock or something to defend himself with. Big hands grabbed the back of his shirt and yanked him upright. “You little piece of shit.” The man slapped him hard. “Remember your first day? You were told no one ever escapes.” He laughed, an evil sound.

  The driver arrived and grabbed Josh’s other arm. “Ace isn’t very happy right now, and you’re going to pay.” As they dragged him toward the truck, Josh burst into tears.

  Chapter 32

  As they drove south on I-5, she and Marty watched the pink summer sun drop in the sky. Rox had brought her laptop again, thinking she could do research while they sat, watching the transport office. She hoped Marty had brought something to read. The whole tactic of waiting for the van to leave, hoping to follow it to the camp was inefficient and possibly pointless. The transport service might work for other businesses too, and they didn’t want to go out on a false delivery—and miss a trip to the Sun Ridge area. They should be able to tell the difference. Other trips probably wouldn’t happen in the middle of the night like the program abductions. Yet even a midnight run could take them to the wrong camp. Ridgeline ran gender-based wilderness camps and a gay-conversion therapy program. The Get Straight location might be in Klamath Falls for all they knew. They just had to make good guesses at every step.