by Rodney Jones
“Whoa!” McNeil grinned. “That thing’s loaded, ain’t it? Someone could’ve lost a toe there.” He gestured toward the creek. “Just gettin’ yourself a drink, was ya?”
I sighed.
“What’s that ya say?”
“Yes, sir.”
Hugh snickered. I kept hoping they’d let down their guard. I glanced toward the other side of the road and imagined making a dash for the gateway. They might be able to follow me through to Tess’s time, though. Too risky.
The sheriff stepped closer and grabbed my shirt. “Where is she?”
The veins at his temples pulsed as he shook me. I said nothing.
He released me with a shove, stepped past me, and headed down toward the water. He reached in and pulled out the shovel. “You drop something? That is one fine spade. Look at that. Bran’ span new.” He held it up. “This yours?”
“No,” I said.
“You doing some farmin’ up here?”
“It ain’t mine.”
“Just keepin’ an eye on it, was ya? Maybe you was a-wonderin’, same as me, what the dickens a spade is doin’ there in the creek?”
“I didn’t know it was there.”
He smiled. “Randall, you’re a clever lad. Git on down here. See what you make of this.”
Randall hopped off his horse and hurried to McNeil’s side.
The sheriff pointed toward the other side of the creek. “See them depressions a-yonder? Look like maybe foot prints to ya? And the grass? Like a herd of cows just passed through.” He reached up and twisted the end of his mustache. “And there.” He tipped his head toward the water. “You see what I see? Someone’s been a-haulin’ rocks up from the creek. It look that way to you, or is it just me?”
Randall gave the scene a moment of study then nodded. “It does.”
chapter thirteen
Tess
I followed John’s progress via the GPS, jotting down his coordinates as the little blinking red beacon inched its way across the computer screen. If John was correct, then as he passed through the time-warp thingy, my reality would change. It could be that I would be sitting in my room, watching that blinking dot creep toward Weston, then in the next instant, I would be somewhere else entirely, doing who knew what, totally oblivious. I couldn’t sit there all day, though, so I got up to do some housework, coming back to check every thirty minutes or so.
At a quarter after four, after I’d emptied the dishwasher and finished sorting the silverware into the organizer tray, I returned to check on John’s progress. The dot had moved only half an inch over the last hour—a lot slower than he’d been moving.
I took down the new coordinates then clicked refresh every couple of minutes, anticipating a change. Ten minutes later, there was still no change. I almost wished I’d told him about the GPS I had hidden in the knapsack. The device had an SOS button that I could activate on the computer, but if I used it, he’d have a beeping backpack and no idea why.
I vacuumed the living room and dining area, checking the computer every ten minutes. The dot didn’t budge over the next forty-five minutes.
After my last check, I slapped my forehead. “Oh, shit. I should’ve put in fresh batteries.” I picked up the phone to call Liz.
Liz answered just as my mom tapped on my door. “What’s up?” Liz said.
I had been so focused on the GPS that I had forgotten about Mom coming home. “Hold on a second.” I placed my palm over the phone. “I’m on the phone, Mom.”
“I have a sandwich for you from Gill’s. Mick’s taking me to dinner, and I might be out late.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Mick?”
“Mick. He fixed our front door.”
“Okay, I’ll be out in a second.” I raised the phone to my ear. “Liz?”
“Mick? Jagger? Your mom’s hanging out with that old geek?”
“Yeah, yeah, I told her she could do better.” Glancing toward the door, I lowered my voice. “She always settles for the losers, like my dad.”
“What do you mean? Your dad’s all right.”
“You’ve met my dad like… what? Once?”
“Yeah. And he was nice to me.”
“He snarled at you.”
“No, he didn’t.” She laughed. “Well, maybe a little. But he didn’t hit me.”
“Okay, so he’s the world’s greatest dad. I didn’t call to brag about my pedigree, though. The GPS thingy…” I heard footsteps going past my door then the bathroom door shutting.
“I still can’t believe you did that.”
“Your mom’s only used it once?”
“It’s not working?”
“Well, I tracked him for about six hours, then the red dot stopped moving.”
“What red dot?”
“On the Google map. The blinking dot stopped moving. Does that mean there’s a problem with the tracker?”
“Tess, I’ve never used it.”
“Right.”
“Wasn’t there a manual in the box?”
“Uh, yeah. I was just about to give it a look.” I reached under my bed for the box. I flipped through the pages of the thin booklet to the troubleshooting section at the back. “Okay, it says, ‘If the signal is lost, a small window will pop up near its last position indicating a problem and suggesting a solution.’”
“And?”
“And that didn’t happen.”
“So you still have a signal.”
“But his position hasn’t changed for over an hour.”
“Which probably means he’s busy making out with some hot mountain babe.”
I put the booklet back in the box. “Whatever possessed me to call you?”
“What? That bothers you?”
“Well…”
“Okay, fine. So your friend, who you’re obviously not hot for, arrived at his destination, and he’s doing some mysterious thing that takes more than an hour to do. Why are you so hyper?”
“Hyper? I’m just trying to figure this stupid thing out. Come over and look at this. See what you think.”
“We’re about to eat,” she said. “I’ll be there in about an hour.”
I stayed in my room, since Mom was busy getting ready to go out on her thing. I didn’t want to call it a date, as that carried certain romantic connotations. After having met Mick, I simply couldn’t go there. I tried not to care, but on a deeper level, it mattered to me that she settled for less than she deserved. But perhaps that wasn’t entirely accurate. Maybe it was that she was settling for less than I deserved.
Liz and Mick arrived at the same time—worlds colliding—Morticia Addams meets SpongeBob. I started to answer the door, but Mom insisted she’d get it.
“Mick.” Her voice held a phony hint of surprise, as if she hadn’t really expected him to show up. “I’ll be just a minute.” She smiled. “Would you like a beer while you’re waiting?”
He glanced at his wrist, though there was nothing there but a tan line from the watch he’d apparently forgotten to wear. “We have a seven o’clock reservation at Table 24, you know.” He had not yet moved from the foyer.
“Excuse me,” Liz said, attempting to squeeze past him.
“I won’t bite.” Mick took a step to the side and gave my mom a wink.
“I’ll be out in a second.” Mom turned and headed down the hallway, leaving Mick standing by the door.
Liz and I went off to my room and sat in front of the computer.
I tapped the keyboard to awaken the monitor. “I just checked about ten minutes ago.” I pointed at the dot on the screen. “See what I mean? Still in the exact same spot.” The area surrounding the blinking red dot was a dull, featureless green—no roads, trails, rivers, elevations, or markings of any kind.
Liz leaned in and studied the woefully uninformative map. “Wh
ere is this?”
I opened a second window showing a topographical map of the same area. “That spot corresponds to this.” I pointed at what appeared to be a flat ridge immediately to the southeast of a mountain peak, about halfway between Wallingford and Weston. “Why’s he not moving? It’s been over two hours now.”
“Maybe he found the tracker and tossed it.”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Why?”
“Well, don’t you think ditching it would be kind of mean?”
“Maybe he found it, and he’s thinking that being tracked by his paranoid, jealous lover is kind of mean.”
Mom poked her head through the doorway. “We’re leaving now. Hey, what’re you looking at?”
“Maps,” I said.
“Planning a trip?”
“No.”
She shrugged. “I’ll probably be home late. Make sure everything is locked up, and don’t chain the door. And no boys or drinking.”
“Oh, like when have I had boys over?”
She disappeared. A moment later, I heard the thud of the front door.
Liz laughed. “So what was this dangerous mission about, anyway?”
“What?”
“Didn’t you say he was on some life-threatening mission?”
“Yeah, well, would you hike over those mountains alone?”
“If I was being chased by a drooling, redheaded, googly-eyed stalker, I would.”
“Knowing there’s bears up there?”
“That’s not why you planted a tracker on him.”
No, I had tracked him because I wasn’t completely convinced he was real, that he wasn’t pulling some crazy, elaborate hoax. Ever since seeing the letter in the museum, I’d gone back and forth in my belief of John’s story. I figured that tracking him would settle it once and for all. If he’d been lying, then he would more likely have gone off to his waiting car and driven to Taco Bell for lunch.
“No,” I said. “I’m still trying to figure him out, like where’d he really come from.”
Liz pointed at the screen. “Maybe he has a shack up there.”
“Weird.”
“What?”
“The other day, John showed me this place near Weston.” I put my finger on the map, indicating a spot at the top of Greendale Road. “Right about here.” I told Liz about the ruins.
“There were houses up there?”
“In 1875.”
“Oh, right. The time travel thing.” She wagged her head and made a goofy face. “What woman can resist a Civil War hero from 1875?”
“His dad was killed in the war.”
“So you threw your arms around John and gave him comforting kisses?”
I shook my head. “His aunt and uncle owned a mill, and I was there the night it burned down, the same night I was murdered.”
“What?” Liz’s brow scrunched up. “That’s creepy, Tess. Oh, man. You really shouldn’t be messing with this crap. I mean… Jesus, Tess, that’s seriously wacked.”
“Well, maybe. But later that day, we went to this little historical museum in Weston.” I spilled the whole story—the letter, the news clipping. “So that’s what he’s doing up there.” I nodded toward the screen.
“Uh… you’re serious?”
“Everything I’ve seen so far supports his story: his clothes, the coins, the book, the ruins—especially the letter. That blew my mind.”
“Um…” She avoided my eyes. “Don’t you think it’s like… like way too weird?”
Her skepticism didn’t really bother me. It would have bothered me more if she wasn’t skeptical. “Yeah,” I said, “it is weird. I’m not saying I believe him. I’m just… I don’t know, baffled. I mean, for one thing, I don’t see a motive.”
“Money?”
“You will never convince me of that.”
“Sex?”
“Oh, like he somehow knew of my suspender fetish.”
“Yeah, well, they were kind of cute.” Liz turned toward the computer. “So what’s he doing up there?”
The red dot had not moved.
I was jarred awake by the sounds of Mom’s morning routine. The clock on my nightstand read 7:40. I’d gone to bed at eleven thirty after watching Penn & Teller. She must’ve come in late, as I hadn’t heard a thing. I could feel the vibes, the toxic radiation seeping in under my door. She was in a mood. So I stayed put, willing her to keep her distance. Fifteen minutes later, I heard the slap-flop, slap-flop of her slippers advancing up the hall.
Bam! Bam!
“You ate that whole box of Eggos?” she yelled.
“Mom, there’s bread and eggs and oatmeal and Cheerios.”
“Well, damn it, I bought those Eggos because I don’t have time in the morning like you do. I can’t sleep in ’til ten every morning then make omelets and French toast. Jesus Christ, Tess. Is it too much to ask that you leave a little something for your mom?” She stomped off, grumbling, “Just like your father.”
A short while later, I heard the garage door rise. After breathing a huge sigh of relief, I got up and turned on the computer. The red dot was still blinking in the same spot. The night before, I had tried convincing myself that he’d simply gotten tired and stopped to camp for the night. But it was nine thirty, and he hadn’t moved.
I took a quick shower and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. I left the house and hiked into the woods to my secret campsite. My tent was still there, set up and waiting for John’s return. Inside were three plastic grocery bags—one containing the clothes he’d bought in Rutland, all neatly folded, his new Reeboks on top; the second was full of Doritos, Twinkies, and a can of Beanee Weenees; the third contained trash and reeked of dead fish.
I didn’t know what I’d expected to learn out there, but whatever it was, my search told me nothing. John hadn’t come back.
chapter fourteen
John
“Let her be!” I yelled.
Randall Shaw had crossed the creek and was removing rocks from Tess’s grave.
“I didn’t kill her,” I said. “I just buried her is all. Leave it alone.”
McNeil shoved me against a tree. “Trying to save your neck is about the likes of it.”
“Let her be!” I glared at him. “And let me go. I swear, you’ll not hear from me again. I’ll not tell a soul what you did.”
He rammed a fist into my gut, sending bile to my throat. I went to my knees, spitting and gasping for breath.
McNeil pulled me up by my collar. “Hugh, don’t just stand there gawking. Get over there and give Randall a hand.”
The sheriff marched me across the creek at gunpoint then tied my hands behind my back with a length of rope. Randall and Hugh uncovered Tess’s body, while McNeil stood off to the side, rolling a cigarette.
Once they had most of the rocks removed, McNeil stepped over to the grave. He reached down and brushed away some dirt and leaves then stared down at Tess’s corpse. He glanced over at his two buddies. “That gal look familiar to you?”
“She ain’t so pretty as I remember,” Hugh said, “but that’s her, the gal I’d told you about, the one that tried to seduce me.”
“You boot-lickin’ weasel,” I said. “You think your lying makes you anything more than that?”
Hugh spun around. “And who are you to talk? You with your hands smellin’ of the gal’s blood.”
“I think Hugh’s made a fair point there, son.” The sheriff grinned. “Ya don’t go complainin’ about the neighbor’s dog a-barkin’ while your goat’s in their garden.” The sheriff turned back to the grave. He removed another rock then shoved his finger into the hole his bullet had made. “Would you two gentlemen agree that this gal has a bullet in her chest?”
They both nodded. I wanted to put holes in all three of them and then poke
a filthy finger in each.
“And that is likely what killed her?” the sheriff continued.
Again, they agreed.
“Then we’re done here. Let’s go.”
The two gave the sheriff puzzled looks, then Randall turned to the grave. “We’re just gonna leave her like that?”
The sheriff spat on a rock near his foot. “What do you think, Hugh? She worth any more trouble?”
Hugh wiped a hand across his brow. “No, she ain’t.”
“Untie me,” I said. “I’ll cover her.”
“It’s been a trying night,” McNeil said. “My patience is runnin’ pretty damn thin. Let’s go.”
“Sir,” Randall said, “this ain’t right.”
“That’s a commendable opinion,” McNeil said, “but we’re done here.”
“I’m just sayin’, if word ever got out…”
The sheriff’s eyes darted from Randall, off to his right then his left. He reached up and twisted the end of his mustache. “Christ.” He spit again. “All right then.” He turned to me. “If you’re gonna do it, do it quick.”
As Randall untied me, I again considered my chances of escaping, then weighed that against having to prove my innocence in court, once they caught up to me, if I wasn’t shot dead. I was pretty confident I could outrun McNeil and Hugh, but I wasn’t so sure about Randall.
The sheriff caught my eye. He lowered a hand to his hip, resting it near the handle of his pistol. I understood.
As I gently laid rocks atop her, I silently apologized for the ill treatment. I hadn’t noticed anything peculiar about the rocks earlier, but as I was putting them back, I noticed a small heart-shaped one made of pink granite. I saved it for last and placed it on top, right in the middle.
As we rode into Greendale, I frequently glanced over my shoulder, up the mountain behind me. I kept pulling up images of Tess in my mind, her at my side, laughing over something I’d said.
It was early afternoon when I first caught sight of the smoldering ruins of my old home. The Cabots’ house, Hemings’s barn, and a few small out-buildings were all that was left of the community I grew up taking for granted. The house where I’d lived with Aunt Lil and Uncle Ed had been reduced to a burned-out hole in the ground, a few wisps of gray smoke rising from it. And except for the sluice, a good-sized chunk of the water wheel, and a few feet of drive shaft, the mill was gone, nothing but a pit of ashes.