Stowaway in Time

by Cathy Peper

  Cathy Peper

  Stowaway in Time

  Copyright © 2019 by Cathy Peper

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  First edition

  This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy

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  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Also by Cathy Peper

  One

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  St. Genevieve, Missouri

  Diamond awoke with a start, her eyes gritty from lack of sleep. She shifted in the cramped space, her muscles stiff from disuse and the cold seeping into the car. The soft glow of early morning winter sun glowed through her windshield and illuminated the mess she’d made. Crumpled fast food bags filled with trash littered the passenger seat, and she knew without looking that empty cans of soda and energy drinks filled the back seat. Stakeouts were a bitch, especially without backup. The newspaper she worked for wouldn’t provide any help for this assignment, since officially she wasn’t on the story. According to her editor, there wasn’t a story.

  Diamond could think of a few choice words for her editor. There was a story. This guy she was following, Bob Rivers, was as fishy as a freshly caught trout. She couldn’t find any background information on him; it seemed he had come from nowhere. The press had portrayed him as a hero for saving that poor girl in the park from getting raped by a pair of losers, but her reporter’s instincts screamed that he was up to something.

  Still, she might have let it go had it not been for the time she followed him and his girlfriend, Anne, back to Reelfoot Lake Park. They had taken out a boat and come back wet and freezing. Later that night, Bob had gone out again to a remote part of the lake, almost as if he were dumping a body or something. Diamond knew he was hiding something, but fishy or not, she didn’t think Bob was a killer. If you push the right buttons, anyone was capable of violence. Absently she rubbed her right wrist even though it didn’t hurt anymore. Being unable to write or type the six weeks she was in a cast had almost destroyed her career.

  She was about to go in search of a gas station restroom when she finally realized what had awakened her—the mechanical sound of Anne’s garage door raising up. They were on the move.

  The blue Camry pulled out. Diamond only knew the make because she had researched it. She wasn’t into cars, but she and Anne shared a preference for practical, dependable vehicles. Anne’s was larger and nicer, probably because she had a kid. Diamond didn’t think she made a lot of money as a tour guide, but neither did Diamond as a reporter since the Internet had nearly wiped out print media.

  She scrunched down in her seat, but didn’t think they would spot her. She’d placed a tracking device on the car, a trick her ex-boyfriend had taught her, so was in no hurry to follow. As the car drove by, she saw to her surprise that Bob was driving, and he was alone. Usually Anne did the driving. It was still early. Where was he going at this time of day? He had no job, had never had a job as far as she had determined.

  She stared at the house for a few minutes, but saw no activity. Time to freshen up at the gas station and find out what Bob was up to.

  Fifteen minutes later, armed with a hot coffee and an energy bar, Diamond headed south on I-55. Bob wasn’t too far ahead. He drove slower than the speed limit. Diamond set her speed control above the limit—not enough to risk being pulled over, but enough to allow her to gain ground on him. She suspected Bob was heading back to Reelfoot Lake, but what that park had to do with anything, she couldn’t imagine. It was in the middle of nowhere. Maybe he was making meth or growing pot or something else to do with drugs. Missouri still held the dubious honor of being one of the largest methamphetamine producers in the country.

  Should I call the police? Diamond shook her head. What was she going to tell them? “Hey, this guy I’ve been following left his girlfriend’s place early this morning and is heading out to a state park.”

  The police officer would say, “So what? He’s going fishing.”

  “Well, sure he could be going fishing, but since it’s winter, I don’t think so. I know he’s up to something—maybe making drugs.” That would go over well. She’d be lucky she didn’t end up behind bars for stalking.

  She reached for her coffee and took a sip. It had finally cooled down enough that it didn’t burn her mouth. She opened the energy bar with her teeth. She was on her own, but caffeine and food would sustain her. Fortunately, she always carried pepper spray. No guns. Her dad had taught her to shoot, but guns made her nervous. Her dad had made it clear that if she pulled a gun on someone she had to be willing to use it, and Diamond wasn’t certain she could.

  Once the sugar and caffeine hit her bloodstream, Diamond turned up the radio and settled in for the long drive. She narrowed the distance between herself and her quarry, but stayed far enough back he wouldn’t notice her. She was so certain Bob was headed back to Reelfoot Lake that she almost missed him turning off the highway. Where is he going? Does he need gas, food or a pit stop?

  She caught the exit just in time, ignoring the driver who honked at her when she nearly cut him off. “Sorry, Charlie,” she muttered. “Duty calls.”

  She expected the tracking device to show Bob stopping at a gas station or restaurant, but the blinking red light showed him still moving. Diamond kept well back, worried she’d be spotted for sure on the country road. At last he stopped, and she cautiously approached, anxiety knotting her stomach. Was it a trap?

  She pulled into the parking lot where Bob’s car had stopped. There were a handful of other vehicles already there, most of them pickup trucks. A lodge, looking like a giant Lincoln Logs playset come to life, sat at the end of the lot. Diamond spotted Anne’s car immediately and parked a few rows over. She pulled out her binoculars, but unless Bob was hiding, he wasn’t in the car. She saw two other buildings. One was clearly a barn. It connected to a paddock which held a few horses, already saddled, and tied to the fence post. The other appeared to be a warehouse or storage building. Bob had probably gone into the lodge.

  Diamond lowered the binoculars and opened another power bar. As she chewed, she considered her options. She needed to see what Bob was doing, but didn’t want him to see her. There might not be many places to hide inside; she would wait and see if Bob came back out.

 
Twenty minutes later, she gave up, pulled on a baseball cap, and entered the lodge. She kept her head down as she scanned the room. There was a check-in desk to the right, a large gift shop to the left and a snack counter directly in front of her. Her stomach growled as she caught the savory smell of roasting hot dogs. No one stood in line at either the snack counter or desk, so Bob was either in the gift shop or had checked in and gone to his room. He might have slipped out the back, got into his car and made his escape but she still had the tracking device. Unless he found and removed it.

  She slipped into the gift shop. Bingo. Bob was browsing through a selection of camping gear. There were a handful of other people in the store and no one appeared to be in a hurry. Diamond figured she had time to order herself a hot dog before approaching the front desk. She squired mustard on the sausage and took a bite, sighing as the savory meat hit her tongue. It wasn’t gourmet fare, but it was quick, hot and tasty, all pluses in her opinion.

  She wolfed it down, keeping an eye on the entrance to the gift shop. No sign of Bob. She wiped her mouth with a napkin and strode over to the front desk.

  “How much for a room?” she asked the clerk.

  “Sixty a night during the week and seventy-five on weekends. More during the summer. That’s our busy season. We also have packages available. You interested in horseback riding, ATV rental or zip-lining? We have a pool, but it’s outdoors and closed for winter.”

  Diamond pretended to consider. “I would like to take out an ATV,” she said. She thought that seemed more likely to be Bob’s objective rather than horseback riding or zip-lining. He and Anne had taken a boat out earlier. He almost seemed to be searching for something. Or maybe he just likes doing outdoorsy stuff. Is my editor right? Is this all a wild goose chase?

  “All day or half a day?”

  “All day.” She showed the man her driver’s license, filled out some paperwork and put the charges on her credit card. “You do a lot of ATV rentals?” she asked, hoping to learn if Bob had rented one.

  “We’re crazy busy in the summer. Usually you need to book in advance. Not so much in January. We don’t get many walk-ups either,” he said, casting her a vaguely suspicious look. He wrote her name in a ledger, followed by a number. Trying to look inconspicuous, Diamond scanned the names above hers. In the slot directly above hers was the name ‘Bryce Poole.’ Her shoulders slumped. She’d been hoping for Bob’s name.

  “How did you hear about us?” the man asked.

  “A friend.” When the clerk turned his back to grab a set of keys from the back wall, she swung the ledger towards her and read all the names. No Bob Rivers. But there was Bryce Poole, right above her own name. Rivers/Poole. Bob/Bryce. Could Bob be using an alias?

  “Right this way.”

  Diamond followed the man out to a warehouse. It was full of three-wheelers. The man drove the one he’d assigned to her out of the building and showed her how to use it.

  “Sure you want to go out alone? Most people go in groups, especially if it’s their first time out. It can be dangerous if you’re not careful.”

  Diamond nodded. I know, I just signed my life away on your stupid forms. “I’ll take it easy. I just want to get a feel for it since I told the guy I’m dating that I was into it.”

  “All right, then.” The man seemed happy to have an explanation for her showing up alone, out of season, and without a reservation.

  Diamond didn’t care. Let him think I’m a ditsy, man-chasing kind of girl. She fought hard to be seen as an equal with her male colleagues on the paper, but it sometimes helped to play a part when she was after a story. She drove off as the man watched, but as soon as he returned to the lodge, she maneuvered her ATV into a wooded area that gave her cover, but also afforded a view of the lodge. She expected Bob to appear shortly, but the minutes dragged by until she had wasted an hour and had nothing to show for it but cold hands and feet.

  She stomped a few times to restore circulation to her feet and curled her hands inside her gloves. This little jaunt had already cost her several hours and the rental fee for the ATV. Perhaps it was time to cut her losses and go home. Or maybe ride around for a while. She’d already spent the money and it did look fun. She cruised out to an open area and played with the controls, going forward and back, fast and slow. She wondered if her dad had ever ridden one. It would have been right up his alley.

  The roar of another vehicle caught her attention and she slipped back into the brush and cut her engine. While she’d been fooling around, she’d missed Anne’s arrival. The same man who had demonstrated the three-wheeler to her, was now showing Bob and Anne how to work a larger vehicle. They loaded up the back with several bags, more than seemed necessary for a picnic, and strapped the kid, Anne’s daughter, into the back seat. Diamond wondered why they had brought the child along, but they had taken her out on the boat as well. Maybe Anne couldn’t find a babysitter.

  What are they doing? She had the feeling they were looking for something. Something near Reelfoot Lake. Something valuable? Dangerous? Worth killing over? A tingle darted down Diamond’s spine. She was on to something. When they took off, she followed, being careful to stay as far back as she could and not lose them. They headed towards the Mississippi River. She had no idea what they were searching for, but she knew an awesome story was just within her grasp.

  Two

  Chapter 2

  March 13, 1862, New Madrid, Missouri

  The Union Army camped outside the small town of New Madrid. The Confederate soldiers defending the town shelled them daily, but the enemy didn’t budge. A week earlier, the Yankees sent troops against the town, but heavy artillery thwarted their advance. Now they sat beyond the city limits, a growing throng of thousands.

  Jesse had nearly become accustomed to the constant bombardment, though his ears rang even after the mighty guns ceased firing. Outnumbered and unlikely to receive reinforcements soon, the Confederate forces faced certain defeat, but Jesse’s main concern was for his sister, who was alone, except for their slaves, at the family farm on the outskirts of town. The area was now under Union control and he had no way of knowing if she was safe.

  His buddy, Cole, a neighbor who had enlisted in the same regiment, assured him that Janet could take care of herself. “Your sister is a formidable woman. She’ll be hiding somewhere.”

  “You’re probably right.” He and his friend were on picket duty. Two forts protected New Madrid, Fort Thompson and Fort Bankhead. He and Cole were stationed at Bankhead and tasked with patrolling the perimeters of the town. He should have insisted Janet move into town where he could keep an eye on her. He respected her fortitude, but it was only March and still cold. A week ago, it had snowed. He hated the thought of her without shelter and protection, and couldn’t count on the slaves’ loyalty. He wouldn’t blame them if they had run off, seeking a chance at freedom. Or the Yankees might have confiscated them if they knew of Jesse’s status as a Rebel and his father’s position as part of Missouri’s government in exile. Slavery was still legal in Missouri, but the slaves of enemy soldiers could be taken as spoils of war.

  “It’s our farms we should worry about,” Cole continued. “The feds will strip them of livestock and stored food and may burn the rest.”

  Jesse winced at the thought of his family home going up in flames. As a young man, his father had bought a plot of land in Missouri and used his inheritance to build a fine Georgian home and start a profitable farm growing wheat, cotton and much of their own food. He’d married a New Madrid girl and they’d produced three children before Jesse’s mother succumbed to a fever. Still, things were more easily replaced than people. “Houses can be rebuilt and fields resown,” he said.

  “Not without slaves.”

  “They build houses in the north, too.”

  “Who has funds for paid labor?”

  “Buying slaves is a major investment. If the government would compensate us for our property, we could put that money towards wages.”

>   Cole grunted. “Tell me again why you joined the Confederacy and your brother went for the Union?”

  They walked to the end of the street and surveyed the surrounding area. New Madrid sat at a bend in the Mississippi River and often flooded during high water. The entire area was marshy. The fields were fertile, but in March, mud ruled, and the nearby Union camp was mired to their ankles. Still, the Yankees showed no sign of retreat.

  “Father decided who would go where. My own conscience was divided. I would like to see an end to slavery, but am at heart, a Southerner, and can’t condone Northern Aggression.”

  “So, your dad told Jack to join the Union and you the Confederacy and you both complied? No muss, no fuss?”

  “Don’t tell me you don’t listen to your father.” He knew Cole’s father to be a hard drinker and the old man had a heavy hand when drunk. “It’s our duty as sons.”

  “But why would Jack join the Union? He has no abolitionist views.”

  “I’m not an abolitionist,” Jesse protested.

  “That’s not what my father says.”

  Jesse ignored the jibe. “This way we have a stake in both camps. No matter which side wins, our family should survive.” More importantly, the Weber property would survive. Even now he hoped Jack was part of the army opposing him. If so, he might be able to use his influence to ensure Janet’s safety and keep the Yankees from firing their home.

  “I don’t know. Sounds like cheating to me.”

  They turned and headed west, guns on their shoulders. Most of the residents had already fled the town, including the secessionist leaning state legislature, of which his father was a member. The legislature had headed to western Missouri and then to Arkansas when it became clear the Confederacy could not hold Missouri. He hoped his sister had joined him, but suspected she had followed their father’s instructions and was staying close to monitor the house.

  “All is fair in love and war,” Jesse said after a moment, but inwardly he agreed with Cole. A man should fight for what he believed in. Problem was, in a civil war, things got murky.