“Your ride’s here.” His voice interrupted my thoughts, and I shook off the melancholy feeling always associated with the memories.
I stuffed the last bite of sandwich into my mouth and headed out the door. With a lightheartedness I couldn’t completely feel, I called out, “Bye, Jase!”
SIX
Hunter
The drive out to my hunting cabin was uneventful. The sun was shining, it was warm, and I was ready for some fun. The distractions of the night before had been entertaining, but the pleasure was fleeting. I had hopes that my prey this weekend would give me enough of a challenge to allow the enjoyment to carry me through the week. If not, I would be severely disappointed.
My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. “Hey, Honey,” I said, surprised every time I spoke that she couldn’t see right through my faithful husband act. But she wasn’t overly bright. “What’s going on?”
“Just wondering about your plans for Sunday night. The Peterson’s next door invited us for supper and cards.”
It was likely that my hunting trip would not take that long. “I think that should work. I’ll give you a call when I’m done this weekend.” My hunting weekends were passed off as working at the cabin or just taking a break from everyday life. She never came with me. Had never even asked if she could join me. If I had a particularly boring or aggravating week, I would take a long weekend and pass it off as a business retreat. She never checked up on me.
“Sounds good. See you Sunday. Love ya!” She ended the call brightly, and made me want to strangle her through the connection. How she kept her simple mind so entertained and cheerful, I would never know. What she found entertaining bored me to tears.
My heart rate increased as I turned my thoughts to the boy at my cabin. He’d had food and water available within reach, but he would have had to use it sparingly to make it last through the week. If he were smart, he would have energy for the hunt. If not, he might still have enough desperation to make the weekend exciting. The challenge would be steering him away from the other cabins, which would likely have occupants on a weekend as nice as this.
I had taken care to set traps around the borders of my ‘arena’ so those inside would have a hard time getting out; but if they were lucky, they could still escape. One man had gotten past the border, but he hadn’t made it out of the woods. I had ended that game more quickly than I’d wanted, but his reaction to being made to sink ankle deep into the seemingly solid ground had been priceless. The scream of fear, and the pain he’d been in when his body kept moving passed his feet… it was enough to bring a smile to my face, even weeks later.
Nobody knew where my cabin was. It took only an hour to get there from my house, but by circling and making sure nobody was following, the trip took a little longer. After the hunt this weekend, it would be necessary to come up again to prepare the next participant. There was never a plan for who was next, so I’d have to hit the trails again to see who showed up.
But that was for a later date. For now… well, there was a guest who needed some attention.
The boy cringed into a corner when I opened the door to the small dark cellar, his eyes blinking away tears flowing either from fear or sensitivity to the light that flooded in. My heart rate increased in anticipation and my mouth turn up into a smile. He flinched away when I spoke in a deep voice, “Are you ready to play?”
SEVEN
Jason
I didn’t bother checking in with Joe before hitting the trails. Technically speaking, I wasn’t scheduled to work today anyway, and after the scene yesterday… well… a little space from the boss-man was needed. Hopefully by Monday his mood would improve and I’d be able to catch him up. Maybe he will have even forgotten about the confrontation.
The trails were busier than they had been the night before—not too surprising for a beautiful Saturday morning. I passed several hikers who all smiled and gave a little wave, which I returned. It took less than an hour to get back to where I’d been the night before, probably due to being able to see this time. There were a few hunting cabins scattered throughout the woods, and the plan was to approach the edges of the properties only to determine if anyone was inside, staying concealed in the woods to avoid being seen by the owners.
Kneeling and settling my hand into the loose dirt near the side of the trail, I closed my eyes in concentration and let tendrils of my awareness travel through the ground. There were fifteen people within the two or so miles that I could reach, none of whom were acting strangely. One was running, but when I traced back to see if he was running from something, there was nothing. Either he was running for fun or, if he was being chased, the person was still too far away for the reach of my abilities.
The runner changed direction and soon disappeared from my awareness. Since there was still no indication of anyone chasing him, I pulled back and rose. I sighed and brushed the dirt off my hands, onto my jeans. All of the other people so far had behaved like typical hikers. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to indicate they were involved in anything nefarious.
It was probably time to stop for the morning. I hadn’t gotten a call back from my contact—or more accurately Joe’s contact—at the police station, and would have to call them again. Hopefully seeing any files they had would be more useful than randomly wandering wooded trails hoping to spot something out of the ordinary.
The call came in as I was exiting the woods. “You can come look at the files. They cannot be taken out of the department.”
“Thanks, Sheila.” She hesitated, so I asked, “Was there something else?”
The records room attendant seemed grateful that I had asked. “Since you mention it, yes. We’ve had other cases brought to our attention recently. Three young men who all disappeared either on their way to school or work. I set the files with the report about Shawn Henderson for you.”
Three more? “What happened to the other three?”
I could almost hear the muscle in her jaw twitch. “They were found anywhere from a week to three weeks later. The information is in the files.”
“Okay…” Allowing the subject to rest, I continued, “I’ll be there within fifteen minutes. Thanks.”
She ended the call and I slowly slid my phone into the pocket of my jeans. They’d been found dead. That much was clear. She wouldn’t have been so hesitant otherwise. But were they actually connected?
Ignoring the group of hikers that just entered the trail, I rushed out to my car. If this was a serial kidnapping and murder case, there was no way I could work it by myself. An actual kidnapping case was a little out of my depth as it was, let alone what Sheila had mentioned.
If I discovered a more solid link between cases in those files, Joe would have to help me. His contacts in the police department were more solid. I got by with Sheila, but the patrol cops Joe knew were suspicious of me, because of my lack of background. They didn’t like that I was skittish around cops, or that they knew nothing about my past. Joe stopped pushing me once he found out I’d been on the streets. The cops hadn’t.
Sheila called back about five minutes before I reached the station. “By the way, just a word of warning: Nickels is here today.”
Scott Nickels, generally considered a nice guy, was pretty new to the department, and happened to be one of the worst when it came to leaving my past alone. He could never take the hint that I just wanted to take care of whatever I was working on and get out. “Can I sneak past him?”
Her sympathy showed in her response. “Not a chance. He’s working at the check-in counter today. He has paperwork to do, but he will definitely be aware that you’re in the building.”
I sighed, resigned to the fact that he would be asking me questions, possibly even finding an excuse to come down to the records room to continue asking them while I tried to work. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll just have to deal, I guess,” I huffed in annoyance.
“Just thought you should know. See ya in a few.”
This time
I disconnected and slapped the steering wheel. Questions about my past were among my least favorite things. Memories of my past were much worse, and were always brought up by the questions. I rubbed at the exposed scars on my arm, eternally grateful that the injuries on my neck had not left noticeable scars. The two small burn scars were on either side of my Adam’s apple, but I’d been told that if someone didn’t know to look for them, they would go unnoticed.
So far that held true for the people I had met here. I’d been hiding the scars on my arms, only exposing them when I was by myself or with Sam, so nobody should suspect that they exist. But I’d have to keep my jacket on in the records room today, in case Nickels decides to join me. Sheila always left me alone to look through files, so I would normally be able to remove the jacket in the sweltering room, but I have no desire for the young cop to see anything that would raise even more questions.
Sam was unaware that any of the scars on my arms were self-inflicted, and I wanted to keep it that way. I let him believe that Mason had been the cause of all the cuts along my arms, and he was young enough not to know the difference in the age of those scars compared to the newer ones.
A few minutes later I pulled up to the station and found a parking space. Before I walked in, I took a deep breath and prayed Nickels would leave me alone.
“Sheila,” I walked to the desk. “Good day?”
“Uneventful so far. You?”
The conversation was purely for Nickels’ benefit, since we’d exchanged pleasantries over the phone earlier, but it allowed us to establish conversation that didn’t include him, and I was grateful for it. “Just need to take a look at that file Joe was asking about.” Another screen. Nickels knew I hadn’t received my PI license yet, but if I were just being a gofer, he wouldn’t argue.
“Is it an active case file?” he interrupted, sounding more curious than annoyed.
“Missing person,” I answered tensely, trying to hide my natural reaction to male authority figures. My normal desire was to ignore them or run away. He wasn’t old enough to make me afraid, but I could still feel a hesitation to make any kind of connection with him. “The mother wants us to take a look.”
“Which case?” his head was tilted slightly, a slight frown on his face.
His expression made me hesitant to answer. The police sometimes get upset when a PI starts poking around in their cases, and conflict with this department was the last thing I needed. “Shawn Henderson. Seventeen-year-old. Went missing last week.”
Nickels nodded, apparently recognizing the case. “We couldn’t find anything to prove foul play. Have you yet?”
“Nothing but the fact that, by all outward appearances, this kid had nothing to run from. His mother seems to care, and he was doing well in school.”
The frown was back on the young officer’s face and his dark eyes narrowed slightly. “I can’t stop you from looking,” he admitted. “But if you find anything that could lead to Shawn’s whereabouts, let us know. Same if you find proof of foul play. Make sure your boss knows that too.”
With a nod, I allowed Sheila to take my ID in exchange for a visitor’s badge, and she led me down to the records room. “He didn’t seem too bad today,” she said, her cheerful voice sounding forced. “Didn’t ask you anything personal, at least.”
She wanted to. It was clear by her tone and the fact that she kept sneaking glances at me when she thought I wasn’t looking. Thankfully, at least so far, she was hesitant to ask. Maybe she thought I would stop talking to her, or maybe she really didn’t want to know. Some people were like that. Would act as though they wanted to know all the deep dark secrets someone held, and then be completely unprepared to deal with the knowledge. “Nope,” I answered noncommittally.
“The files are…?” I let the question dangle as I glanced around the room as if in search of them.
“Right,” she sighed. “Over here. I put them on the table for you already, but you’ll have to sign the register that you looked at them.”
After I signed, she stood around for a moment. Sheila watched me open the files, and then she walked away, apparently deciding I wasn’t going to converse anymore. My relief was instant, and the tension I always felt around the police seemed to melt away. Nothing I’d done in the past would be cause to arrest me, but how much would they appreciate the fact that I’d killed two men a few years ago? If they found out who I was and where I came from, it wouldn’t take much for them to discover what had happened in my past.
It was time to focus on the present, so I looked at the file on Shawn Henderson. The missing person’s report had been filed the day Shawn hadn’t returned home, so apparently his mother was quick on the uptake. I would have thought she’d have filed it the next day at least, in case he’d simply gone to a friend’s house without telling her. What had made her believe so quickly that he was missing?
The reports on his friends told me that Shawn was a good kid, even by their accounts. Ready at a moment’s notice to help with tutoring or volunteer for student functions. It was rare that he’d get home before eight at night.
The report had been filed at ten. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How would she have known he was in trouble? I read though her statement carefully, almost missing a line in the middle. She’d received a call that had made her panic. Why would there have been no follow through on the phone call? If someone had threatened her or her son, wouldn’t the cops have figured it out?
For once I wasn’t annoyed when Nickels entered the records room. “Officer Nickels,” I called out. “May I ask a question?”
He glanced at me, obviously surprised I was the first to speak. It was not the normal way our interactions went. “Sure. What’s up Jason?”
Explaining my confusion about the seemingly threatening phone call my client had received, he came over to glance through the file. “Here,” he said, pointing it out while I struggled to hold myself still and not back away as he leaned in near me. “We had someone dig up the number, and it was one of Shawn’s friends. They figured it was a prank.”
“A prank that turned out to be pretty accurate,” my voice clearly conveyed my disbelief. “She got a phone call and only a few hours later her son was missing. Does that really sound like a prank to you?”
Nickels looked a little aggravated now. “We did talk to the kid who owns the phone, Matthew Slauch. He seemed genuinely upset that his friend was missing after he made such an ill-advised call. He apologized over and over during his interview. Believe it or not, Jason, we are pretty good at what we do.”
I held up my hands, finally backing away from Nickels a bit. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just wanted clarification on why she would have filed a police report only two hours later than what he would have normally been home. Seemed a bit unusual to me.”
He nodded and looked at me in confusion, “Why’re you wearing a jacket? It’s like ninety degrees in here.”
It was hot, and I was definitely sweating. I couldn’t hide the wince when he noticed. “Uh… I like wearing jackets. It fools my body into thinking it’s not really as hot as it actually is.” I smiled weakly, hoping he didn’t question me further. My excuse was weak, but so far no one here knew anything about me.
I wanted to keep it that way.
EIGHT
Sam
We were playing baseball at the park when I felt Jason’s mood shift from simple interest to pure worry. I frowned and ducked when a ball flew at me while I was distracted. “Sa-am,” Jake whined.
“Sorry! Wasn’t paying attention!” I called running for the ball. There were five people playing, so the rules were a bit different. One person pitched, two batted, and two played in the outfield. It wasn’t a real baseball game, but it was fun. Jason wasn’t close to losing control. I didn’t need to have his emotions always interfering with my life.
The runner had gotten over-confident, so I was able to get the ball to the pitcher before he reached home. The way our rules work is, if the pitcher
gets the ball before the runner reaches home, the runner can no longer get home. Instead, he has to stop at the base closest to him. If the pitcher reaches the base first, then the runner is out. Because the runner was pushing further than he should have, the pitcher was able to reach the base first.
“Pay attention Sam!” Jake yelled. Easier said than done when Jason’s anxiety kept bleeding through.
“Sorry,” I called again. “At least he didn’t score!”
The game ended about half an hour later when we stopped enjoying it, and started arguing stupid plays. Jake’s dad showed up at the park shortly before we finished and he stood outside the fence waiting. “You coming back to the house Sam, or do your parents need you home?” he called.
He didn’t know. Most people didn’t. Jason never wanted us to seem out of place, so we never mentioned that our parents were dead. Sadly, in a lot of ways we’re thankful that they are gone. It still made me cringe any time someone asked. “No. I’m not needed at home right now.”
Jason didn’t need me home until he was home. He’d already given me the okay to be at Jake’s for most of the day, and his house was within walking distance of our house.
“You all right, Sam?” Mr. Thompson asked. He was looking at me with concern, so he’d apparently noticed my reaction.
Not wanting to go against Jason’s wishes, I nodded. “Fine. Thanks.”
He looked doubtful, like he wanted to argue, but Jake was getting impatient. “Let’s go! I’ve got a new game to show Sam!”
Hunter Page 3