by Sharon Sala
He parked in front of the post office, went inside and bought himself some prepaid postcards, then went back out to the car and pretended to write, all the while keeping an eye out for possibilities.
Cars came and went intermittently. If anyone happened to look his way, he would write more diligently. Nearly thirty minutes came and went, and he was getting antsy. He couldn’t sit there much longer without raising suspicion in a town so small.
Just as he was about to give up this idea as only one in a series of dumb ones he’d recently had, an old truck pulled up to the curb near where he was parked. He glanced at the driver, a pale, skinny man wearing jeans and a Coors Lite T-shirt. Moe could tell by the way the man was walking that he was pissed about something. He watched the man enter city hall and waited curiously for him to emerge. When he came out, he was no longer alone.
Moe blinked. Either he was seeing double, or the skinny man had a twin. Although they were wearing different clothing, they definitely had the same face, and it was obvious they were having a deep dispute about something. The Coors Lite man seemed to be cursing at the other one all the way to the truck.
Moe casually rolled down the window just enough to be able to hear and realized one had just bailed the other out of jail.
“I hope you’re fuckin’ happy! Now we’re both broke!” Coors Lite yelled.
The twin’s face was as red as his brother’s, but he obviously knew enough to keep quiet. They got in the old truck and drove away.
Moe started the car and followed a short distance behind. When they pulled off the highway into the parking lot of what appeared to be a local bar, Moe decided they couldn’t be completely broke. Obviously they had enough left to drown their troubles.
They pulled up to the side of the building and were still inside the truck arguing when Moe parked next to them. He made a big production of getting out and unfolding a map of Kentucky onto the hood of his car, and then pretending to pore over it, as if he was lost.
He heard both of the old truck’s doors open and close, but he didn’t look up. A gust of wind lifted the corner of the map. He let it catch just enough that the map almost took flight right in front of Coors Lite, who grabbed it out of midair.
“Son of a gun,” Moe said. “Good catch.”
Coors Lite eyed him curiously. “You ain’t from around here,” he said.
Twin sidled up on the other side of Moe. All of a sudden it occurred to Moe that he could also be viewed as a prime target to rob. It was time to be proactive, not wait and see what happened next.
“No, I’m not, but I’m damned tired of looking for places that aren’t on this map.”
“Whatcha’ lookin’ for?” Twin asked.
“Rebel Ridge.” Moe sensed the men looking at each other, but he kept his gaze on the map. “I’m on a deadline. No time to waste. I’ve got a hundred dollars for anyone who can tell me how to get there, and another hundred for directions to find any family related to Sam Venable.”
“Sam’s dead,” Coors Lite said.
“I know that,” Moe said.
He folded up the map and took a step back until he was looking at both men face-to-face. Their indecision was obvious. Their greed, coupled with their need for cash, was overriding whatever inhibitions they might have had about informing on one of their own to a stranger. He knew the moment they looked around to see who was watching that he had them.
Coors Lite swiped his nose with the back of his hand, then casually wiped his hand on the leg of his jeans. “Make it three hundred and I’ll lead you straight up the mountain they call Rebel Ridge. I ain’t gonna introduce you to none of the Venables, but I’ll give you a wave as we pass where one of them lives.”
“Who?” Moe asked.
“James Walker. But his wife’s a Venable. That’s the best I’ll do.”
Walker. The other family name! Moe felt as if he’d hit the jackpot. “That’ll do. You show me the place, and I’ll take it from there.” He pulled out four one-hundred-dollar bills and handed them over. “Gave you a little something extra to keep this between us,” he added.
Coors Lite grabbed the money, then headed for his truck, with Twin right behind them. Their need to drown their troubles had just been overridden by the sudden windfall. It was time to make tracks before someone saw them talking to the stranger and put two and two together later, when they started flashing money. Even though they didn’t know why the man was looking for Venables, if it turned out bad, they didn’t want to be named as the ones who’d ratted the family out.
Moe got back in the car and followed the twins nearly five miles out of town before the men took a sudden turn off the highway and up a tree-lined blacktop that was barely wide enough for two cars to meet and pass.
He kept an eye on the miles, hoping they weren’t driving him into some out-of-the-way place so they could jump him for the money he had left. But to his relief, just after they’d passed the sixth mile, Coors Lite stuck his arm out the window and waved and pointed, then sped off in a cloud of dust.
It was only after Moe braked that he noticed another road leading off into the woods, even narrower than the one he was on. He could just see the peak of a rooftop through the trees. He drove a little farther on until he found a spot to turn around, then headed back down the mountain. Earlier he’d noticed a cut in the undergrowth that might be wide enough to hide a car in and had marked the mileage in his mind. All he had to do was come back after dark, get to the Walker house on foot, plant tracking devices in the family cars and see where they went. It wasn’t much, but short of taking someone hostage and beating the information out of them, which wasn’t his style, there wasn’t anything more he could do.
James had finished his mail route before noon and had been working his tobacco patch all afternoon. He was bone-tired and dirty as he headed toward the house. He still had the cow to milk and the hogs to feed, and he’d promised Julie he would put the kids to bed so she could go to a baby shower at their church, which was only a couple of miles up the road from the house.
Less than a mile from home, his cell phone rang. When he saw it was Ryal, he pulled over onto the side of the road to answer.
“Hey, Ryal, how’s it going?”
“We’re okay. I was wondering if you had time to make a grocery run for us tomorrow. If you’re busy, I can leave Beth here with Quinn and do it myself.”
“No. I can do that,” James said, scrambling for a pen and some paper. “Tell me what you need.”
Ryal went down the list, then paused. “Are you going to shop in Boone’s Gap or Mount Sterling? You can’t always find everything in Boone’s Gap.”
“Probably Mount Sterling. Julie needs some stuff for the baby that we can’t get here.”
“Do you have enough money left from what I gave you? If you don’t, just say so and I’ll cull the list.”
“No, we’re good. I’ll bring it up tomorrow afternoon. Okay?”
“Yes, it’s definitely okay, and thank you.”
“Come on, Ryal. We’ve been through this already. No thanks necessary. Family is family.” Then he heard Ryal clear his throat. “What? What’s happening that I don’t know?”
“About that family thing, Beth and I are—”
James chuckled. “Well hell, brother. I already saw that coming. Besides, I married a Venable, too, you know. Even if she’s from Mount Sterling, she’s still kin to the rest of them. So tell me something I don’t know.”
“Quinn. All this preparation for a possible attack has put him right back into soldier mode. He isn’t sleeping on a regular basis. Some mornings I don’t see him at all. He’s pushing himself past the limit of his endurance and argues when I suggest he cut himself some slack.”
James’s smile died. He loved and worried about Quinn as much as the rest of the family, but because he was the closest in age to Quinn, he knew him better than most.
“There’s one thing we’ve always had to accept about Quinn that I think you’re for
getting. He doesn’t share his feelings. He doesn’t show weakness. He doesn’t quit. It’s part of why he was a good soldier. It’s also part of why he’s struggling with the trauma of what he’s seen. He’ll be all right in the long run, because he’s a strong man, and because he’s not alone. We won’t let him be.”
Part of Ryal’s worry lifted. “You’re right. I guess I’m feeling guilty because I’m the one who told Lou Venable we’d help, and I did that without thinking about Quinn first.”
“Shoot, Ryal. This is Beth, your Beth, we’re talking about. You were thinking with your heart, and that’s how a good man walks through life.”
Another weight lifted off Ryal’s shoulders. “Thank you, James. Sometimes I forget that you are more than the family clown.”
James grinned. “Anything else you need? Otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“No, that will do. See you soon.”
They hung up.
James put the car in gear and went home, while Ryal dropped his phone back in his pocket and headed into the house.
By the time it was dark, Moe was back up the mountain, his car concealed in the place he’d found earlier in the day, and on foot heading upward toward James Walker’s home. He was wearing a backpack and carrying a flashlight, although he was careful not to use it too often for fear someone would see the light in the darkness.
He was carrying a sack with five pounds of uncooked ground beef and a large branch he would use as a club, just in case he ran into one of the four-footed denizens who dwelled up here. He’d used Google to find the number of animals he could possibly encounter in this part of the state and was not all that thrilled with the options. He couldn’t decide which would be worse: cougars, wild hogs or skunks.
He’d heard dogs soon after he’d gotten out of the car and hoped he had enough meat to shift their attention from him to the food. He paused to listen and heard the sound of a car engine coming nearer. Someone was driving by out on the road. Even though he was several yards away in the deep woods, he stopped and crouched down, not wanting to get caught in the headlights. He waited until the car passed before he stood. Just as he started to take a step, he heard rustling in the leaves beneath his feet, flashed the light down and then stifled a scream as a snake slithered past.
“Son of a bitch,” he gasped, and then hastened his steps. The sooner he got this job done, the sooner he could get down off this godforsaken mountain.
A short time later he saw a light through the trees and knew he was near the house. He stopped to listen but heard nothing to tell him one way or another if the family owned dogs, but he was guessing they did. Kids and dogs seemed to be everywhere here.
He kept moving until he found himself standing in the tree line of the clearing surrounding the house. He could see lights on in the back of the house and only one vehicle—a dark, older-model truck parked near the porch. By accident he was upwind, but he didn’t see any dogs, though he knew that didn’t mean a thing. Readying the meat just in case, he slipped through the darkness.
As he got closer to the house, he could see movement back and forth behind the curtained windows in the rear, although the front of the property was dark and quiet. When he was within a few yards of the truck, he ran, then ducked down behind it and slipped off the backpack.
He’d packed what he needed in an exterior pocket for easy access and quickly pulled it out. In less than a minute he’d put a tracking device up underneath the back fender, and then a second one right beside it, just in case one became dislodged due to the rough roads.
Just as he was finishing up, he heard a dog begin baying from inside the house, so he grabbed up his backpack and ran for the trees. As soon as he hit the tree line, he dumped the meat and kept running. If they let the dog out, he was hoping it would follow his scent to the meat and then stop. That would give him enough time to get back to his car and get away.
When Julie was gone, James always let Big Red, the family dog, into the house to keep one of the kids occupied while he bathed the other, but also because they adored the old hound and were happiest if he was at their feet as they played.
He was helping his daughter out of the bathtub and drying her off when Big Red suddenly bounded up from the threshold where he’d been lying and let out a sharp bark. James frowned. He’d just put the baby down and hoped the noise wouldn’t get him to crying.
“Daddy, why is Big Red a’barkin’?”
“I don’t know, sugar. Probably some varmint prowling around outside. Hang on a minute while I let him out.”
He set her down on her feet and followed the dog through the house to the front door.
“What’s out there, Red? What do you hear?” he asked, as he reached for the knob.
The dog woofed softly, and when James opened the door, Red bounded outside as if he’d been catapulted.
James looked out into the darkness but didn’t see anything obvious. He shut the door and hurried back to the bathroom, where he’d left his daughter. Without giving the incident another thought, he put her to bed and then sat down on the side of the mattress and began reading her favorite story. This time he paid close attention to Beth’s illustrations, marveling that someone he knew was responsible for the charm of the hitchhiker ladybug and all her adventures.
The dog had immediately picked up Moe’s scent and shot off across the clearing, barking as he went.
Moe was running full tilt through the trees with the flashlight shining to keep from running into any branches. He knew the moment the dog had been let out of the house and how close he was getting because of how the sound carried.
All of a sudden there was silence. Moe grinned. He would bet a fiver the dog had found the meat, but that wasn’t cause to slow down. The sooner he left the area, the better.
Before the barking resumed, Moe was safely inside his car and driving away.
Fifteen
Ike woke, momentarily confused as to where he was. Then he recognized a painting on the wall and remembered he was in a guest bedroom in the south wing. Then he remembered why, which made him angry all over again. His worst fear was about to come true, and he didn’t know what he was going to do about it. Either Adam suspected Ike had killed Lorena, or he already knew it was true. But before Ike could make any decisions, he needed to know what was in his son’s heart. Was this going to cause an irrevocable breach in their relationship, or was there a way to get past it?
He rolled over in the bed and glanced out the window. It was already morning—time to see where he stood. He picked up the phone, took a deep breath and made the call.
The sun was just over the mountain peak and streaming into the bedroom window near the bed where Adam was sleeping when his cell phone began to ring. He woke abruptly to check caller ID. Just as he suspected—his father was finally checking in.
It rang five more times before it went to voice mail. He laid it aside and got up to use the bathroom. Afterward, as he was washing up, he glanced up in the mirror and paused, eyeing his features with a judgmental eye.
The Greek heritage he shared with his father was evident in his black wavy hair and even features, but he had his mother’s mouth. His gaze slid to his eyes. They were a soft brown like hers, too, not the dark, almost black, color of his father’s.
Before, he’d been a proud man, even vain. But now it was disconcerting to look at himself. All he saw was a son whose greed and need for power had crossed a line and broken his mother’s heart. Even though his father had been holding the knife, Adam knew it was his decision to “go to the dark side” that had caused her death. In the true sense of the word, he was just as guilty as Ike for her murder.
But this was his turning point. Either he redeemed his soul, or he ignored what he knew and continued in the footsteps of the devil who was his sire. In the bright light of day, the decision he’d made last night was still the most viable choice.
As he was drying off, his cell phone rang again. Ignoring it, he began to shave. If he
was going to do this, he was going in shining like the diamond in his father’s pinkie ring.
Adam was back in Los Angeles before 10:00 a.m. He’d already had a phone conversation with an agent in the Federal Bureau of Investigation and made an appointment with the special agent in charge of Lorena Pappas’s murder to discuss the progress of the investigation.
He had to admit that, when he’d entered the building and gone through the body scanners, he’d felt as if he’d just walked into enemy territory. Both Adam and the Feds had an agenda, but he was the only one who knew the extent of where it was going to lead.
Within moments of passing through the scanner he was approached by a woman who identified herself as Special Agent Curran. She proceeded to escort him to his destination.
He eyed her curiously, wondering what would lead an attractive woman like Curran to want to go into law enforcement, when she could use her looks and her smarts to get so much more for much less. Then he remembered that that was how his mother and father had met, and Lorena’s walk on the wild side had not turned out for the best.
When they got on the elevator, Adam put his hands in his pockets in what he hoped was a sexy, casual stance and flashed his best smile.
“So, Special Agent Curran, how did you get into this business?”