by Nancy Mehl
“No, but I think he’ll figure it out—if he checks his voice mail. If we find something, I’ll call him immediately.” He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “It’s a little after nine forty-five. Most church meetings will have dismissed by now.”
“I would feel a lot better if you’d actually talked to Harrison,” Monty said. “What if they’ve already caught Walker? We may be doing this for nothing.”
“But Alex is out there. We need to find her. Try her again.”
They’d called Alex’s cell phone several times, but it went straight to voice mail. Monty nodded at Logan when he got the same thing again. “Hey, Alex,” he said, “this is Monty. Logan and I need to talk to you. We’ve left you several messages, and we’re getting worried. Assuming you’ve gone to the lake, we’re headed your way. Please, please call us so we know where you are, okay?”
He disconnected and sighed. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to us. And I don’t think she’ll be pleased to know we followed her.” He sighed again, this time more loudly. “Let me get this straight. We’re all driving into the woods, it’s dark and sleeting, and we’re not even sure the guy we’re looking for is where we’re headed. Can this get any worse?”
“Actually, it could get much worse. I looked over some information about the lake while you were in the restroom. A lot of the roads around the lake are dirt, especially on the south side where we’re going.”
Monty turned to stare at him. “Super. Let’s add that to the list. Woods, darkness, ice, no one will know where we are except a woman who won’t return our phone calls and a man who might or might not figure out where we’ve gone. A man who could ruin our careers. Who told us not to do this. Good.” He slumped down in his seat. “Now dirt. We better find this Walker guy, rescue Alex if she needs it, and save the world. Unless we can pull that off, those jobs at McDonald’s are looking pretty good. Maybe I can be a fry guy.”
Logan was certain they were doing the right thing, but he understood the point behind what Monty was saying. They needed a win here. But first they had to find Alex. Logan hadn’t mentioned she was gone in the message he’d left Harrison. At least he could keep her out of it if the situation went south.
He tried to tell himself he would do the same thing if Monty had gone off on his own, and he believed he would. But something about Alex had wriggled itself into his mind. She was an exemplary agent, but she was also fragile. He hadn’t worked closely with her before this assignment, but he’d been around her enough to know the way she was acting was new. It seemed to have started after she went to Wichita. Something was clearly wrong—something beyond what she’d told him about her past.
He suddenly realized she reminded him of someone. His great-uncle Jasper, who served in Vietnam. Alex had the same look in her eyes he’d had. His wife told Logan’s mother Jasper had PTSD. Jasper saw a counselor several times, but two years ago, he’d taken a gun into the bathroom and killed himself.
A chill went through Logan that had nothing to do with temperature. The car was warm enough now. Was Alex going through PTSD from her experiences with her aunt? She certainly had been through more than most children should ever endure. A father who left and a depressed mother who killed herself, leaving Alex to find her body. And then she was thrust into the home of a strange aunt who allowed Alex to be the adult while she spent her time espousing crazy teachings. It would be almost impossible for anyone. And finding that aunt standing over your bed with a knife? The more Logan thought about that, the more bizarre it sounded. No teenager should feel she had to hide a gun under her pillow to protect herself.
Logan sighed to himself. He should have seen it sooner. Put the pieces together. He was trained in analyzing people’s behaviors. Why hadn’t he seen PTSD as a possibility? Was it because he had feelings for Alex? Although he had no intention of acting on them, he finally admitted to himself that he did. He was attracted to her. But to be honest, he wasn’t sure if his attraction was romantic or merely a desire to rescue her from herself. Damsel-in-distress syndrome.
They were almost there when Logan pulled into the small parking lot of a convenience store, not far from the entrance to the lake according to his GPS. They were almost out of gas. The guy who owned the car hadn’t mentioned he was low. Thankfully, Logan noticed it before they got too far into the woods surrounding the lake.
“I want to go inside to see if there’s a map of the area,” he told Monty. He took out his wallet and handed Monty his debit card. “Do you mind getting some gas? Just fill it up.”
Monty waved away Logan’s card. “Nah. Alex has put herself at risk to find a serial killer, and you’ve put your career on the line for the same reason. I should at least buy gas. That’s my contribution to your heroic efforts. Besides, if this blows up on us, I plan to blame it all on you.”
“Gee, thanks. Not sure they’ll believe that, though.”
Monty shrugged. “I intend to tell them you forced me into this car. I tried to get away, but you threatened to make me eat snails.”
Logan laughed. “I happen to like escargot.”
“You really are weird, man. You know that?”
“Yeah. I do. Thanks for the gas. I’ll be right back.”
As Logan carefully made his way across the slippery lot to the door of the small building, he couldn’t help but worry about fallout for his team. He wasn’t in charge; Alex was. But here he and Monty were, following her into a situation that could be dangerous. If they needed backup, would they be able to contact anyone? They might not have cell phone connection the deeper they went into the woods. Maybe Alex didn’t now. Were they all putting their lives at risk?
He didn’t know the answers to those questions, but he had no intention of leaving Alex out here alone. No matter what happened.
38
When he opened the store’s door, he found an old man sitting behind a counter, his head down, snoring. Logan hated to wake him, but he didn’t have much choice.
“Excuse me?” he said softly.
No response. The snoring just got louder.
“Excuse me?” he said with a little more volume.
This time the old man’s head shot up, and he glared at Logan. “You don’t have to yell at me, young man,” he snapped. “I ain’t so old I can’t hear.”
“I’m sorry. Do you have a map of the lake area?”
The man got up from his stool and pointed to a table near the window. Logan noticed a name stitched on his shirt. Elmer. “Maps is over there.” He looked toward the large window at the front of the store. “Is it icin’? What in the world are you doin’ out in this?” He stared at Logan’s jacket. “FBI? What’s the FBI want out here? Ain’t nothin’ illegal goin’ on.”
“Looking for someone. I don’t suppose you’ve seen another FBI agent, have you? A woman with long black hair tied back in a ponytail?”
The old man stared at him for a moment. Logan could tell he wasn’t sure what he should tell him, so he reached into his inside pocket and pulled out his creds, then waited while he looked them over.
“Okay,” he said. “I guess you’re the real deal.” He coughed a few times and then spit into an old paint bucket behind the counter. “I didn’t know she was FBI, but she was here about . . . an hour ago maybe? Lookin’ for a cabin on the south side of the lake.” He nodded toward the maps, then held out his hand for one. Logan picked up a copy and gave it to him.
Elmer opened it up on the counter and pointed at a spot. “She wanted old cabins, so I sent her here. There’s also a couple of small houses there, but they were deserted years ago . . . I think. No one goes down there anymore. Now that I think about it, though, someone told me they seen a light comin’ from one of them old properties. But I wouldn’t drive down there, young man. The roads are terrible. And in this?” He pointed at the window, and Logan’s eyes followed. The ice was coming down faster. “You could get stuck real easy.”
“You say that area has old cabins and a couple of houses,” Logan said. �
��There’s a difference?”
“They all look like small houses, but only the houses have basements. Cabins might have a cellar, but that’s it. ’Course, everyone calls them all cabins.” His eyebrows knit together, causing even more wrinkles than the old man already had. “I’m pretty sure one of them houses was torn down a couple of years ago.”
The mention of a basement got Logan’s attention, although he wasn’t sure why. “Can you tell me where that house with the light might be?”
Elmer pointed to another spot on the map. “Probably on Waywind Road. That’s the road I told that woman to watch for.”
Logan pulled out his phone and scrolled through his photos until he came to the one he’d taken of Adam Walker’s employee photo.
“What about this guy?” he asked, holding the phone up so Elmer could see it. “Do you recognize him?”
“Hmm. No, he don’t look familiar.”
“Thanks.”
Logan was putting the phone back in his pocket when Elmer said, “Can I look at that one more time?”
“Sure.” Logan retrieved his cell and reloaded the photo. He handed the phone to Elmer, who stared at the screen for several seconds.
“I ain’t seen him as a man, but I think he used to live around here when he was a kid. I wouldn’t have thought it was him except for this.” He pointed to the scar on Walker’s chin. “His family was in here once in a while to buy some of the staples I carry—milk and the like. But one time the father brought him in here and asked for antiseptic and bandages so he could treat a gash on the kid’s face. Never said what happened. I told him he needed to take his kid to the hospital. Get him fixed up proper.”
Elmer shook his head. “I still remember him lookin’ back at his car. The woman I always assumed was the kid’s mother was sittin’ there starin’ daggers at him. Then he said he couldn’t do that.” He sighed. “I gave him what I could, but I was concerned that gash weren’t gonna heal right. And sure enough, it looks like it didn’t if this is that kid all growed up.”
“So you didn’t really know the family?” Logan asked.
“Nah. I could count the number of times they stopped in here on one hand. They bought their gas somewhere else, though. I kinda worried about the kid after that gash thing. And then one day I realized they must have moved away because I hadn’t seen them for a long time. Never seen them again.”
“Are you pretty sure the boy you knew is this man?”
“Well, how sure can anyone be? Nah, I can’t say I’d write it in blood. But if I had to bet my store on it, I’d say, yeah. It’s him.” He sighed. “Sorry I didn’t figger it out when you first showed me the picture. It’s been maybe . . . twenty years? Guess it slipped my mind.”
“And you think the boy and his family lived on the lake?”
“I think so. I mean, they always came from that direction. But I don’t know for sure. I ain’t connected to the lake. Just run my business near it. Sorry.”
“That’s okay. I understand. You’ve been very helpful.”
Logan jammed his phone back into his pocket, then paid for the map and turned to leave. But before he made it to the door Elmer called out, “Hey, FBI agent. I sure do hope the kid turned out all right. I don’t think his childhood was anything to write home about.”
Logan turned back and grappled with what to say. “He’s certainly made an impact with his life. Went to college. Got a good job. Has a wife and two children.”
Elmer nodded. “That’s good. Thanks. You know, he had such sad eyes. That’s somethin’ I’ll never forget.”
Logan pushed the door open. It took effort since the wind pressed back with intensity. He hurried to the car, ice pellets stinging his face. He pulled his hood as far over his face as he could, trying to protect himself.
When he got into the car, Monty said, “You talked to that guy for quite a while. Did you learn anything helpful?”
“Yeah. Alex was here and got some directions from him. And he recognized Adam Walker from his photo. Knew him when he was a little boy, although not by name.”
“Did he know where they lived?”
Logan shook his head. “No, but the few times he saw the family they came from the direction of the lake. And he mentioned a small house where someone thought they saw lights recently. We need to find it. My gut tells me that’s where they lived and that’s where Alex will end up.”
“We need to call backup,” Monty said.
“Not yet. We don’t know for certain we’re going to find Walker. If we’re wrong and we pull people off what they’re doing now . . .”
“It could be disastrous for all of us.”
“Yeah. Let’s find the house. See if Walker’s there. If he’s not, we’ll find Alex and tell her we have to go back to the CP. Maybe I’m wrong about Harrison figuring out what we’ve done. Maybe we can just stay mum about this whole thing.”
“But if Walker is there, Logan, we’ve got to call for backup before we go inside. If we handle this wrong, we’re putting Alex and ourselves in danger. And if Walker has the virus, we could set off something more devastating than losing our careers.”
Logan turned on the windshield wipers, but they just smeared the ice across the glass. He adjusted the fan to blast the windshield, and as it warmed up, a portion cleared enough for him to see the road.
“Okay,” he said finally. “I’ll call Harrison and tell him where we are. But if he tells us to turn around, what do we do?”
Monty turned his head and looked out his window. After a few seconds he said, “Okay. Keep going. But as soon as we either find Alex or decide there’s something here that rates backup, we call it in. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“Then let’s go.” Monty took a deep breath. “This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. You know we could get stuck out here. Then what?”
Logan grinned at him. “We call a tow truck?”
“Not funny. Really not funny.”
Logan pulled back out onto the road. He drove as slowly and carefully as he could. It wasn’t long before they came to the lake. Although no streetlights were out here, they did see lights along the lake. Really nice homes sat on one side, and their lights made it possible to see the water even though it looked like a puddle of black ink in the darkness.
“There’s a sign,” Monty said.
Logan slowed down. He had to squint to see it through the ice now falling in sheets, but he was certain it said Cabins. Next to the word was an arrow pointing to the right. He consulted the map. Looked like this might lead to Waywind Road.
He held his breath as he turned the car toward whatever lay ahead.
39
Alex didn’t so much drive down the dirt road that hopefully led to the cabin she was looking for as she slid her way down it. Thankfully, it was covered with small rocks that gave her just enough traction to control the car.
She passed four small cabins but saw no lights or cars. Either they were abandoned or the owners didn’t think November was a good time to take a vacation. They all looked pretty rundown anyway. She finally saw a street sign. Waywind Road. The road that old man, Elmer, told her she should find.
After she turned, she noticed a mailbox on a pole and slowed down. It was hard to see clearly through the sleet, but there was no structure behind the mailbox. Just a concrete foundation. Obviously that place had been torn down.
She wanted to turn on the interior lights of the car in an attempt to overcome the blackness that covered her, but she fought the urge. It would make her visible to whoever might be out there—although the chances of anyone except her being out in weather like this were slim.
As she headed down an incline, her car suddenly turned sideways and slid into a ditch. Alex tried and tried to get the car out, but her tires just kept spinning. Wondering what to do, she peered down the road. She was certain she saw a light glowing from a small house. Someone was there. What should she do next?
A sense of panic started to se
t in. She was alone in the dark. Just like she’d been at Willow’s. Visions of the first night in her aunt’s house worked their way into her brain. She’d cried herself to sleep lying on the bedspread because the sheets looked dirty. Finally, she was so cold she decided to risk it and get under the covers. The bed smelled. Not like urine or anything. It just smelled dusty. Old. Like it had never been cleaned. She started to fall asleep again when something crawled up her neck and onto her cheek. She’d shrieked and brushed it away.
Then something crawled up her leg. She jumped up and ran over to the light switch. When she flipped it on, she was shocked to see roaches running across her bed. They scattered, hiding under the bed’s frame. Alex stood shaking, next to the wall. Fear caused her to wet herself.
She’d pulled her suitcase out of the closet and took out clean underwear and another nightgown. After she changed, she put the soiled clothes in a zippered part of the suitcase and stuck it back in the closet. Then she spent the rest of the night shivering and crying, sitting on a chair with all the lights on, visions of her mother’s body slipping into her thoughts even though she didn’t want to remember. The mother she’d adored despite her shortcomings had deserted her, and now she was here. Alone and unprotected. She promised herself that when morning came, she’d take care of herself and never rely on another human being again.
“Stop it!” Alex shouted. When would she get past all that? When would she overcome these fears? A young woman’s life might be at risk if she gave in to this terror that wrapped around her now like a shroud. The stakes were huge here. If Adam Walker was in that house, she might be able to thwart his plan. Her stupid fears couldn’t be allowed to hinder her mission.
She checked her gun. Fully loaded. She wished she’d brought another clip, but slipping her wallet out of her satchel had been the best she could do without alerting Logan and Monty. She wasn’t worried. Walker was just one man, and he wasn’t trained like she was. She donned her FBI-issued jacket again, then took her knit cap out of one of its pockets and slipped it on her head. She was thankful she was wearing jeans and a thick, warm sweater. And that she’d chosen boots over pumps this morning.