“Can you call your friends...the ones who might have some information?”
Jake sounded like a young boy and Eliza suppressed the urge to laugh. She could only imagine how irate he would be then. She nodded. It was worth a try.
Jake listened intently to Eliza’s end of the conversation, filling in the gaps with his imagination. From what he heard, it didn’t sound promising. Eliza did a good job asking questions and probing and trying to gain as much information as she could. But if her contacts had any pertinent information, they didn’t let on.
“No good,” Eliza said frankly, hoping that the bad news wouldn’t trigger him to erupt in a violent temper tantrum. Fortunately, true to his word, he exercised better control over his emotions. Eliza could almost see him straining against his rage as he balled his fists. But at least he didn’t take it out on her.
“It’s late,” she said. “I think I’m going to turn in.”
He nodded as he thought about getting ready for bed himself. There was no point in torturing himself. Maybe Eliza was right. Sleep might clear their heads and help them to plan their next step.
Eliza used the bathroom and brushed her teeth. When she emerged from the bathroom, she saw Jake sitting on his bed, engrossed in his doom and gloom. He barely noticed her climb onto her bed.
Jake was wondering what he would do if he never found Hillary. What if she just disappeared? He would be forever stripped of the closure he needed. How long would he go on searching for her? How many day, weeks, months? Maybe even years. He knew he would never give up.
His mind drifted to Patty. He wondered if he should call her and let her know that he was okay. He chided himself for not picking up one of those pre-paid cell phones as he had intended. Cell phone! Jake’s eyes widened in excitement. It might prove a waste of time and may even send him further into a slump, but he had an idea. Hillary had taken his cell phone when she left. Perhaps she would answer it if he called.
“Eliza!” He said anxiously, startling her.
“What’s the matter?”
“May I please borrow your cell phone?”
“Sure, go ahead. It’s on the dresser over there.”
Eliza pointed to the phone by the television. Jake grabbed it and quickly entered his cell phone number. It didn’t go straight to the voicemail as he feared it would. It was ringing. His heart raced in anticipation of hearing Hillary’s voice, though he hadn’t thought about what he would say to her when she answered.
Eliza assumed he was calling his wife, but he looked thrilled about it, unlike the last time he spoke with her. She kept her ears open to hear his conversation.
“Hello?” He said as he furrowed his brow. “Who is this? How did you get my phone?”
“Excuse me?” Ken asked. “This phone belongs to you?”
“Yes, yes,” Jake replied anxiously. “How did you end up with it.? Where are you?”
“I’m in Colesville, Maryland. I didn’t steal your phone, I’m a cab driver. A young girl left it behind in my cab earlier tonight.”
Jake’s face was the picture of ecstasy as his mouth hung open and tears misted his eyes. He looked over at Eliza and nodded excitedly.
“What did she look like?” He asked.
“A thin blonde girl, pretty kid traveling with an older black woman.”
“An older black woman? Where did you drop them off?”
“At the Holiday Inn in Bethesda. Look, I don’t—”
“No, I know the girl, she didn’t steal the phone, she accidentally grabbed mine instead of her own.”
“Oh, good, I didn’t want to get involved in case she had stolen it or something.”
“No, no...nothing like that. Listen, can you hold on to it for me? I can be there tomorrow to get it.”
“Sure, I’ll put it back in the bag and—”
“Bag?”
“The girl left her duffel bag...I found the phone in there and put it to charge. I didn’t mean to snoop through her things. I just wanted to find a way to contact her.”
“No, you did the right thing...you helped me tremendously. My name is Jake Ben—uh, Jake Benson. I’m currently in Virginia but I can drive up and be there around noon or so tomorrow. Is there a place we can meet?”
“Well, I’ll be waiting for business at the Silver Spring bus terminal. I’ll be parked right outside unless I’m out driving someone somewhere in which case, you’ll have to wait for me to get back. As long as you get here by six p.m. or so, you’ll find me. My name’s Ken and I’m six feet tall, about a hundred and ninety pounds. I have dark hair and—”
“And a nice ass,” JoEl said from his bed.
Ken laughed as he added, “And a moustache. I’ll be in a dark blue 2011 Lincoln Town Car.”
“Thanks Ken. Can I trouble you for a phone number in case something happens and we don’t meet?”
“Sure, no problem.”
Ken gave Jake his cell phone number and Jake jotted it down on the hotel pad of paper on the night stand.
“You’ve been a lifesaver, really Ken. I truly appreciate it.”
“No problem, man, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ken placed the phone back on his computer desk and stared teasingly at JoEl. He gyrated his hips and did a silly dance on his way to devour her once again. She giggled and squirmed as she anticipated his touch. The next twenty minutes were pure bliss as they consummated their love once again. Little did Ken know that his life was in danger.
“Bethesda!” Jake said excitedly. “She’s in Bethesda, at a Holiday Inn.”
A sound of relief and joy escaped Eliza’s lips.
“Oh my God!” She said in amazement. “You did it Jake...you found her.”
“Well she’s there for now. Who knows how long she’ll stay there. The guy, Ken, says she’s traveling with some black lady. I don’t know what that’s about...maybe she’s holding the woman hostage or something. She might leave bright and early. I say we drive over there right now.”
“Jake, I share your enthusiasm, I really do. But we need to get some sleep. Maryland’s not that far away. I’m sure if Hillary’s paying for a room, she’s not going to just sneak off in the middle of the night. We can sleep a while and get back on the road by five. We should be there early enough to catch her when she leaves.”
Jake nodded. He was physically exhausted even if the excitement had given him a second wind.
“Okay, but we leave first thing—by five at the latest.”
“You see, Jake, you just have to have a little faith...everything is working out.”
Jake didn’t respond. He set the alarm clock for 4:30 a.m. then shut off the lights.
“Goodnight, Eliza,” he said once his head hit the pillow.
“Goodnight, Jake,” she replied and closed her eyes.
It was Eliza who fell asleep first, nearly a half an hour later after imagining what the next several hours had in store for her. She was nervous about having to confront Hillary. Was she ready to have Jake face her? She just wanted to take the girl into custody. She knew Jake wouldn’t be content with that. There was just one thing he was after. He wanted her dead.
Jake was far too excited to fall asleep. It reminded him of being a child on Christmas Eve except this time, the gift he was about to receive would be priceless and unforgettable. He didn’t think about the consequences. In truth, he didn’t care about the consequences. His biggest worry was that Eliza would attempt to stop him from doing what needed to be done. He would cross that bridge if and when it came to that.
Though he was well aware that killing Hillary wouldn’t improve his physical condition, he knew that just the sheer satisfaction of knowing that he had ended her abhorrent life would enable him to start healing mentally. It would be enough to overcome his constant doom and gloom. Perhaps one day he could even find joy in life once again. But none of it would be possible while Hillary Greyson was alive and well.
He would go from room to room in the hotel if he had to. He would
find her and break her neck before she even saw it coming. Or maybe he would strangle her. He’d wrap his strong hands around her small neck and squeeze the way she had once choked him. Except that he wouldn’t stop until she was good and dead. Or maybe he would suffocate her with a pillow or drown her in the toilet or ram her head into the bathroom mirror or....
Fantasizing about the different ways he could kill her, sleep finally captured Jake under its tranquil spell. For the first night in weeks, he finally slept through the night, waking only when the loud beeping of the alarm clock pierced the silence. He wanted to close his eyes, roll over and return to sleep. But remembering what day it was, he sat up in bed, yawned and stretched then smiled vibrantly. It was finally going to be a good day.
~16~
Lieutenant Colonel Rigsby was eternally grateful for the Intel that informed Colonel Jackson that Hillary Greyson had traveled north from Richmond to Silver Spring, Maryland. She had boarded a Greyhound bus with an old African American woman. It was puzzling why she was traveling with a companion, an older black woman at that, but they would get the answers to their questions in time. What mattered was that they had finally found a solid lead.
Apparently, the Colonel’s contact was able to find out from Richmond law enforcement agents that Hillary had been detained as a possible suspect by one of their police officers. Though the young girl had matched the suspect’s description, the officer felt it was ridiculous to further detain her or bring her in for questioning because she was just a young kid who couldn’t possible have murdered the victim. He said that she was wearing a white tee shirt and blue jeans but did not have her blonde hair in a ponytail. He had joked that she looked an awful lot like Hillary Greyson herself, but of course, “that was impossible.”
The officer further revealed that he didn’t search the small duffel bag that the girl was carrying because he felt that he didn’t have the requisite probable cause. The girl claimed that her name was Caleigh Montgomery. The black woman had informed him that they were traveling to Silver Spring, Maryland together.
It was obvious that they were on the right track. The name “Caleigh Montgomery” was a dead giveaway. Hillary had combined her sister’s first name with her former friend’s surname—both of whom she had brutally murdered. There was absolutely no doubt about it. Hillary was in Maryland, near the lieutenant colonel’s neck of the woods. Still, it never dawned on him that the reason she was there was to find and kill him. He was just thrilled to be so close to home once again.
Lieutenant Colonel Rigsby was itching to find Hillary and end her life so that he could resume his own. He had been out of the laboratory for too long now. With Dr. Patrick Morrison out of the way, he was free to pick up where the brilliant neurologist had left off. During the months they had communicated, Lt. Col. Rigsby had gained significant information about the drug, Neuronentin. Of course, Dr. Morrison owned the patents for Neuronentin, but Lt. Col. Rigsby felt confident that he could replicate and formulate a virtually similar drug. It wouldn’t be long before he received worldwide recognition for his, (really Dr. Morrison’s), accomplishment.
It was after ten in the evening when the Humvee rolled into the Greyhound bus terminal in Silver Spring. Lt. Col. Rigsby ordered the two soldiers to stay with the vehicle as be ventured inside. He flashed his military ID and questioned employees about “a matter concerning a highly classified domestic terrorist.” Basically, he asked if anyone had noticed a young blonde girl with an older African-American woman. No one he spoke with had any information.
He didn’t let it get him down. Silver Spring was a small town. He would find them. As he was walking back to the Humvee, he noticed the line of cabs parked at the curb and decided that it was a good idea to question the drivers. The driver of the first cab, a middle-aged woman who was smoking a cigarette, said that she hadn’t seen anyone like them that day.
“Then again,” she said as she coughed, “I just got here a couple of hours ago.”
The driver of the second car likewise claimed that he hadn’t seen any blond girls with black women.
“That’s sort of a mismatched pair,” he noted. “I would have remembered that.”
Moving on, Lt. Col. Rigsby asked the next driver down the line. It was a bald, overweight man who was in the middle of eating a hamburger.
“No,” he replied agitatedly.
He didn’t expound or elaborate. He made it abundantly clear that he just wanted to get back to enjoying his burger. As Lt. Col. Rigsby walked toward the next car, he heard the rude man belch loudly. He twisted his face is disgust as he thought about all of the lower-class citizens he had to interact with during this assignment.
There were only two cars left and he was thinking about walking back to the Humvee. Yet, since he was already there, he figured he might as well be thorough. The driver of the fourth car was an older gentleman reading a novel. He didn’t notice the lieutenant colonel standing on the side of his car. Lt. Col. Rigsby knocked lightly on the window. The man jumped slightly then lowered his window.
“You have to take the first cab, the one parked in the front,” he said and began closing the window, anxious to get back to his book.
“Hold on a minute,” Lt. Col. Rigsby said curtly as he flashed his military ID.
The driver inspected the ID then lowered the window again.
“Lieutenant Alan Langford,” he said matter-of-factly. “What can I do for you?”
“I’m looking for a pair of travelers. They would have gotten here earlier this evening, around six or so. Were you here at the time?”
“I’m afraid not, Lieutenant, I didn’t get here until seven.”
“Okay then, thank you for your time.”
Lt. Col. Rigsby turned to walk to the car at the end.
“Hey,” the fourth driver called to him. “What do they look like anyway?”
“A young blonde teenager and an old black woman,” he answered as he again turned away, anxious to get moving.
“Yeah, yeah, I seen ‘em,” the driver said excitedly, as if expecting a reward of some sort. “What do you want them for anyhow?”
“That’s a matter of national security,” Lt. Col. Rigsby replied gravely. “How long ago did you see them?”
“It was shortly after I got here. I drove them over to the Econo Inn, just ten minutes away from here.”
The Econo Inn! Lt. Col. Rigsby exclaimed in his mind. He finally had a location. He had finally found her. It was hard to maintain his serious demeanor. He wanted to jump up and down and shout hooray. But even more than that, he wanted to drive to the Econo Inn and break the girl’s skinny little neck.
“Did the girl and the woman converse? Did you hear anything they might have been discussing?”
“Well, the girl was rather upset about leaving her bag in my buddy’s car. The old woman—”
“Wait, what? She said she left her bag in your friend’s car?”
“They arrived at the station earlier and my friend Ken—he’s another car service worker—he drove them somewhere. But after he dropped them off, the girl realized she had left her bag in his car. They came back looking for him, but Ken works the early shift. I reckon they were his last fare for the evening. I told them I’d drop it off to them, that they should let the front desk know that they were expecting it.”
“Did the girl indicate what she had in the bag?”
The old man shook his head.
“No,” he replied. “But she was real upset about it. She said she didn’t want him seeing her stuff.”
“This friend of yours...Ken...do you know his last name? Where we can find him?”
“He ain’t in trouble is he?”
“No, no...nothing like that. In fact, he might be in serious danger. Any pertinent information you have could very well save his life.”
“Oh my,” the old gentleman said, nervous for his friend. “I don’t usually give out my friend’s personal information, but seeing as how this is a life or death
situation and you’re a military man with an honorable purpose, I’ll make an exception.”
“I’d really appreciate that,” Lt. Col. Rigsby said, then added, “And so would Ken.”
The old man nodded in understanding.
“His name’s Ken Dobbs. He lives at 725 Glenrock Road in Colesville, ‘bout ten minutes away from here. If you take the highway, just two exits eastbound, make that left off the exit then drive about three miles down the road. Ken’s place is practically at the end of the road. He has a nice little white ranch. You’ll see the big American flag out front, you can’t miss it.”
“725 Glenrock, was it?”
“Yes sir. I hope you get there in time, Lieutenant. Say hello to my buddy Ken for me, will ya?”
“I sure will...uh, Mr...?”
“Oh, Ramirez...Tony Ramirez.”
Tony extended his hand for Lt. Col. Rigsby to shake.
“Thank you, Mr. Ramirez. You’ve been most helpful,” Lt. Col. Rigsby said as he shook the man’s hand. “Will you be here tomorrow night around this time, in case I have any more questions for you?”
“No, I have to take off in a couple of hours so I’ll be driving early in the morning to make up for the lost hours. I’ll be back around seven or so. But I’ve told you everything I know...I don’t think I can help you any further.”
Lt. Col. Rigsby disagreed. He was satisfied to hear that the driver would be back earlier rather than later.
“Thanks again,” he said, then walked back to the Humvee.
“Wake up you goons,” he said as he entered the vehicle. “While you two were dreaming of Prince Charming, I was actually being productive and acquiring valuable information.”
Sergeant Raymond Hughes despised the arrogant army doctor but he could do nothing but accept the continuing abuse. Prince Charming. Who did he think he was to speak to them so degradingly? They were real military soldiers. They had experienced actual combat and had seen things that would have driven the doctor insane.
If anyone is dreaming of Prince Charming it’s you, you spineless piece of shit, Sergeant Hughes thought with a feigned smile on his face.
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