He needed to develop a feasible plan of action: first, establish his location; second, clothe himself; and third, set the hell out of there. Jack continued through the brush, branches smacking his face and arms, the cold accentuating his pain.
Jack stumbled upon an old gas station, closed for the night. There must be a way in, he thought, longing for the warmth it could provide. The front doors were padlocked. Jack walked around to the back. He studied the rear door, which had the old push-button type lock.
He knew what he needed to do, although he couldn’t summon much enthusiasm for the task. Damn, he wished he wasn’t so sore. Still, he didn’t have much of a choice. Jack stepped back, held his breath, then threw his shoulder against the door. He gasped, clutching his side as he doubled over in agony.
“Shit, shit fucking shit!”
Tears formed in his eyes. When the pain subsided, he looked up and watched the door swing open. Jack stepped over the threshold and ventured into what appeared to be the garage office. The warmth of the building provided him with instant relief. He sat on a chair and began rubbing his feet. He felt the urgent need to formulate a plan, and then move on.
Jack got up and began to explore. In the garage portion of the gas station, he found a blue work suit, stained with oil and grease, hanging on a door. He grabbed it and put it on. The suit was huge, but he felt immensely better with clothing over his body.
He continued to rummage around the shop. Jack didn’t want to turn on any lights and risk drawing attention to himself if a car happened to pass by the station. Far in the back corner, among a pile of old tires and cans, lay a pair of rubber boots. They too were large, but at least they promised protection for his feet.
Jack walked into the office and sat at the desk. There was a telephone, but whom could he call? He assumed he was still in Missouri, but barely knew anyone anymore. Who could he trust?
Erma Miles. Wonderful Erma, the lady who had told him the story of the people killed in the plane crash. She lived alone. In his heart, he knew that she would help him. Jack dialed information, got her number, and called her. Even though it was the middle of the night, Erma sounded alert when she answered the phone.
After a quick hello. Jack described his location.
“You’re just outside of Jerome, in the Mark Twain National Forest,” Erma said. “I know where that gas station is, we used to vacation there.”
“I’m really sorry to ask, but can you pick me up?”
“Sit tight and I’ll be there as quickly as I can.” she said. “You know, I told you to be careful. Doesn’t sound like you listened.”
“I’ll tell you the whole story when I see you, but please hurry. I’ll be waiting about a half-mile closer to town on the right-hand side of the road, hiding in the trees.” Jack explained. “I can’t risk staying put. Someone may show up. and I’m not feeling real sociable right now. How long will it take you to get here?”
“About an hour this time of night. You just keep your head down, and I’ll look for you. I’ll be driving a yellow Ford Zephyr with an orange Styrofoam, Union 76 ball on the antenna.”
“I’ll be watching for you.” Jack replied “and, Erma, thank you.”
“Don’t thank me until we get you out of there, it’s bad luck.”
“Okay, see you soon then.” He hung up the phone and headed out the rear door, pushing in the lock as he left. He shook the handle of the door to be sure it was secured. The door jamb was slightly cracked, but the lock held. There was no obvious reason for anyone to suspect he had stopped there.
Jack made his way down the road. About a half-mile from the garage, he hid in a cluster of bushes to wait for Erma.
The minutes crawled by. He shivered in the cold, the sound of the gusting wind his only companion. No cars passed by. He crossed his arms and leaned back against a tree.
What if Erma was being watched and now they’d caught her? What if-? Stop. He knew the late-night hours were a haven for paranoia and exaggeration. It hadn’t been much more than an hour since he’d spoken to her. Besides, she was an old lady, and old ladies didn’t drive fast.
At that moment, he heard the sound of a car engine.
He peered up over the large clump of bushes. It couldn’t be Erma, he thought. The car was coming too fast, at least seventy. Damn, they knew he’d gotten away. He wondered if the thugs who’d drugged and beaten him were returning to make sure the animals had finished what they had started.
Jack ducked down, concealed behind branches thick with leaves as he observed the vehicle. The car slowed. The orange ball glowed on the antenna. Erma. He straightened up.
She rolled down the window, took one look at Jack, and just shook her head. “What a sight you are.”
“This is an upgrade. You should have seen me before I found the gas station.”
Erma chuckled, then leaned over to unlock and push open the passenger side car door. “We should get you out of here.”
Jack climbed in and rolled the window back up.
“Buckle up.” She stomped on the gas pedal as she spoke.
Jack grabbed the armrest as they tore off down the road. So much for the idea of the elderly being conservative drivers, Jack thought. Erma’s foot reminded him of an anvil.
Erma drove Jack to her home and immediately sent him to the shower. She placed some of her deceased husband’s clothing in the guest bedroom for Jack. “The clothes on the bed will be a little short, but they’ll keep you decent,” she shouted over the sound of the streaming water.
When he finished cleaning up and dressing, he walked down to the kitchen. Erma applied antibacterial ointment to the cuts on his face, arms, and feet. “You really should be seen by a doctor.”
‘Thanks, but I’m fine,“ Jack said. He could smell the aroma of her cooking.
“No, you’re not. You’ve definitely got some broken ribs and probably a concussion. How many fingers am I holding up?” Erma raised her hand, extending two fingers.
Jack smiled feebly. One of his eyes was swollen shut, his head throbbed, and his vision, if not double, was certainly not very clear. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t think it would be wise for me to turn up in a hospital emergency room right now.”
Erma frowned. “You’re probably right. Whoever did this to you definitely didn’t want you to be found. You’re not the first person to disappear without a trace into the Missouri backwoods, and you’re one of the few to survive the experience.”
“I may have survived, but living to tell about traveling buck naked through the woods could have its downside.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, is poison ivy a problem this time of year?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Thank God.” Jack met Erma’s gaze and they both laughed. Jack held his ribs in an attempt to lessen the pain.
“Time to feed you.” Erma served him chicken with dumplings, followed by hot cocoa and the apple strudel that she’d made the day before.
“Erma,” Jack said. “I’m in heaven. This is the most delicious food I think I’ve ever eaten. I feel like I’m at my grandmother’s house. You really didn’t need to go to so much trouble. It was nice enough of you just to pick me up.”
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. Jack.” Erma said with a wave of her hand. “You look thin as a rail, and I won’t be having anyone go hungry in my home.”
While he ate, Jack explained what had happened, at least as much as he remembered.
“You’ve been through an ordeal, young man, and you should eat.” Erma dished up more strudel.
He consumed the strudel with gusto, but his body throbbed with pain and ached for sleep.
“What day is it?” Jack asked assuming it was early Wednesday.
‘Thursday morning,“ Erma told him.
He’d lost two days. That meant he must have been poisoned at the diner Monday evening. Jack put his fork down and stared at the wall. Either he’d eaten something, or the cigarette he’d bumm
ed had been laced with a toxic substance. He reviewed the sequence of events and decided it must have been the cigarette.
Thank God, he didn’t finish the cigarette. If he’d smoked the whole thing, he’d probably be dead now. How stupid he’d been. He knew to be careful, but he hadn’t paid attention, instead he’d been negligent.
“I have something for you,” Erma said, walking into the living room.
“I couldn’t eat another bite.”
“It’s not food. I was going through my husband’s things and found these files. I don’t know if they’re important, so I thought I’d let you decide. I was going to send them to your office at the magazine.” She lowered the box to a spot on the floor next to him.
“I’m glad you didn’t. What’s in them?” Jack slowly reached for the box.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Erma pushed the box out of reach with her foot. “You get your rest first, then you can get into these.”
Jack stood up from the table. He didn’t feel much like arguing. “Can I use your phone? It’s long distance, but I’ll pay you back.”
“Go right ahead and don’t worry about it.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for all you’ve done, Erma.”
“You can repay me by keeping your fanny out of trouble.” She shook her finger at him.
Jack walked across the kitchen and gave her a hug. “Thank you, you saved my life.”
Jack picked up the receiver of the wall phone. He was concerned about Katherine. He knew she would worry if she couldn’t reach him. She might even try checking with the magazine if she thought he was in trouble. He needed to stop her. If they found out she was associated with him, she could be in grave danger. He didn’t know the identity of the person who’d masterminded his abduction, but he didn’t want to take any chances with Katherine.
He glanced at the clock on the stove. It was four o’clock in the morning in Missouri, five in Washington. When Katherine answered, she sounded wide-awake. “Kate, this is Jack.”
“Where’ve you been? I was so worried. I haven’t been able to reach you for days. Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I don’t want to stay on the phone too long, so listen carefully.”
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t want to discuss it on the phone.” Jack decided not to take any chances. He didn’t want to endanger Erma, either. “I’ll see you very soon, but first I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure, name it.”
“I mailed you a package Monday night. Did you get it?”
“No, not yet.”
“You’ll probably get it today or tomorrow. Katherine, it’s a critical package, and what I just went through proves it. Please watch for it. When it arrives, I want you to take the tapes out of it and hide them. Would you do that for me?”
“Certainly, What’s on them?”
“Important documentation.” Jack was never so glad that he’d mailed off his work early. He still needed some of the tapes transcribed, and he’d debated whether to wait, because he also hoped to get additional interviews, but he’d finally decided to ship the package.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t mailed the cassette he’d gotten from the man at the bridge. Damn, that recording was his only solid piece of evidence. He knew that going back to his hotel room for the tape would be a fool’s errand. No doubt, it was history.
By now, whoever had tried to kill him would have gone through his room and taken everything. He’d bet that there wasn’t a trace of him left in Missouri, except, of course, for his somewhat dented anatomy.
“I’ll explain everything when I see you.” Jack added. “Just know that I’m safe, and I’ll be there soon. And. Katherine, do not under any circumstances tell anyone that you know me.”
“Jack, this is crazy.”
“I know.” Jack paused. “Oh, and Kate.”
“Yes?”
He turned away so that Erma couldn’t hear him. “I love you.” He noticed that the words were coming more easily.
“I love you, too. Please be careful.”
“I will.”
They hung up and Jack turned back to Erma.
“What are your plans?” Erma asked. “We need to get you someplace safe.”
“I’ll get a couple hours of sleep and then head out of Missouri.”
“That’s good – you need to get away from here quickly. If they realize you made it out of the woods alive, they’ll be looking for you. But, for the time being, you’ll be okay here.”
“You’re right. I’d better assume they know I’m alive – the airport is out.”
“I’ve got an idea.” Erma seemed to be enjoying this little game of espionage. “Tonight, when it’s good and dark, we’re going to dress you up with one of my wigs and send you off in my husband’s old car. I drive it periodically to keep it running, and people will just think you’re me. Tonight’s my Bingo night, so if anyone recognizes the car, they’ll see the gray hair and just think I’ve left Bingo early. Of course, you’ll need to scrunch down a bit, since I’m not as tall as you are.”
“Erma, you’ve done enough. I can’t take your car.”
“It’s all right. You’re just borrowing it, and someday you’ll get it back to me. I don’t need it anyway.”
“You’re incredibly generous, but I’m worried they may find out you helped me. I’d better not take the car.”
“I’m not afraid of these people anymore, Jack. They can’t do much to me now. I’ve lived my life, and I want to help you. I have a suspicion that you just might be able to expose these crooks, and if I can make a difference, I will. You take the car. I also have some money here at the house you can take. You shouldn’t use credit cards. Those television movies always show people getting caught when they use their credit cards.”
“Erma…”
She stopped him by holding up her hand. Erma obviously didn’t intend to take no for an answer. “Now, you head off to bed and get some sleep.”
SIXTY-FOUR
Thirty-five minutes after midnight, on Friday morning, Jack crossed the Missouri state border and began to whistle. A slow smile spread across his face as he stripped off the disguise while still driving. Then he relaxed behind the wheel.
Traveling across the country through the night in a 1979 blue Impala was more enjoyable than Jack would have ever guessed. The large car allowed for plenty of legroom, and he could stretch out as he drove virtually straight through to Washington. Traffic was heavy on the Beltway for a Friday evening. Darkness had fallen by the time Jack pulled up to Katherine’s new address in the seventeen hundred block of Swann Street.
Jack hobbled up to the front door, still sore from the beating and stiff from sitting so long. He rang the bell, praying she would be there. Jack hadn’t told Katherine over the phone when she could expect him. Now, he wished he’d called her while on the road. But he’d been in such a hurry to get there, he’d stopped as infrequently as possible.
After a few minutes, Jack turned to walk back down the steps when the door finally opened. Katherine wore a short white terry cloth bathrobe, her hair dripping wet.
“Jack.” She flew into his arms. “I thought I heard the doorbell, but I was in the shower.”
He grimaced at the impact of her body against his, but ignored the pain. “So you always answer the door so scantily dressed?” he asked against her lips. Then he kissed her. “I missed you,” Jack whispered and kissed her again.
“I missed you, too.” She reached up to clasp his face between her hands. “Look at you. What happened?”
“Later.” He led her inside, then closed and locked the door behind him. “I can’t have the whole neighborhood gawking at this beautiful woman standing half naked for all of Washington to see.”
Katherine looked down at herself and started to laugh. “Beautiful woman? I look like a drowned rat.”
“A very beautiful drowned rat.” Jack kissed her as he picked her up and carried her up the
stairs to what he assumed would be the general location of the bedrooms. He walked into the largest one. He gently lay her on the bed.
“Jack. I have so many questions…”
He silenced her with another passionate kiss as her robe dropped away.
They made love and fell asleep in each other’s arms, the first sound sleep for either of them in days. Jack awoke at five A.M. It amazed him that he slept so soundly when he was with Katherine. She seemed to be his cure for insomnia. He had never slept so well, not even with his wife.
He quietly got out of bed, then went down to the kitchen. Fifteen minutes later, he’d made coffee and a huge omelet to share with Katherine. As he walked back to the bedroom with his spoils on a tray, he heard her call his name.
“Jack?” Sleep still weighted her eyes.
He set the tray on the bed and carefully slipped in beside her, pulling the tray over his lap. As she sat up, he handed her a steaming cup of coffee.
“Good morning.” He kissed her, and then he cut off a piece of omelet with his fork and placed the large bite into her mouth.
“Umm, I didn’t know you could cook. Boy, did I hit the jackpot.”
Jack laughed. “This is the extent of my culinary skills, I’m sorry to say.”
“That’s okay, I can live on omelets.” Katherine took the fork and cut another piece.
Between bites of omelet and sips of coffee, Katherine asked Jack to explain the events that had taken place in Missouri. He told her what he remembered, blaming himself for not being more aware of what was going on around him. He didn’t tell her what he couldn’t prove – that Dailey was the man at the Golden Gate, and that he believed Carolyn was involved in illegal dealings that might include his father’s death.
“Who did it, Jack?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. The last person I talked to was Mark Dailey, and you know the rest.”
SIXTY-FIVE
Richard crossed his lees and relaxed in the chair opposite the president’s desk in the Oval Office. A fire burned in the fireplace, giving the room a soft glow. He stifled a yawn, and then glanced at the door, which remained closed. His watch read 8:26 P.M. Warner had scheduled this meeting for eight sharp, but, as usual, kept him cooling his heels.
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