Swope's Ridge

by Ace Collins

  “You’re kidding,” Lije said.

  Curtis took another swig. “The information I received led me to a nursing home just north of Berlin. I was able to question a former friend of Bleicher’s there.”

  “Well,” Jameson noted, “at least you found some kind of connection. Doesn’t sound like this part of the job was too hard.”

  Curtis glared at the other woman for a moment. “Otto Mueller was old, very sick, and very hard to get to. In fact I was turned away at the front desk. I had a bit of help and I literally had to adopt a disguise to pull off my visit.” She smiled. “In his room I found an English Bible with the same verses marked in Genesis as the one we found in Bleicher’s hand when we opened the crate. Mueller informed me that Bleicher was a double agent. The best I could tell was that he’d infiltrated the SS and was feeding information to the Allies.

  “A couple of months before the end of the war, Bleicher disappeared from Germany. Mueller told me he was trying to get to America with the intent of stopping the Nazis from using some kind of super weapon on us. As the weapon was never unleashed, Mueller seemed sure that Bleicher’s final mission was a success.”

  Curtis paused and took another long draw of her soda. “Schleter was, at one time, Bleicher’s driver. I have no idea which side he was playing for, but he and Bleicher were at least friends. For them to end up together is not that big a stretch.”

  Lije rose from his desk and walked over to the window. There were several rose bushes blooming across the alley, so many vibrant colors in such a limited space. The problem with having so many different kinds of flowers in one small spot was that sometimes the colors all blended together. It was hard to see the beauty of each new rose. That was also the problem with all the information they had uncovered. Everything just kind of blended together without anything jumping out. Lots of stuff, but nothing important. Nothing that stood out.

  Diana’s trip to Germany had cleared up one puzzling element. At least they knew why two Germans finding each other in the middle of the Arkansas Ozarks was not as far-fetched as it had once sounded. And, if Curtis was right, the man in the crate might well have been a hero.

  But here was where the colors all ran together again. If Bleicher had succeeded, then why was he shot? And did that make Schleter a member of the firing squad? If so, then how was Schleter involved, and what had he hidden on Swope’s Ridge that was so important?

  He walked back over to the chair beside Curtis and sat down. “Did you find out anything about this super weapon?”

  “There’s a legend that was used to scare children,” she explained. “It was about a boat called the Ark of Death. Mueller seemed to think that our man was involved in sinking it before it could unleash its terror on the United States.”

  “Ark of Death?” Jameson asked.

  “Yes, that’s it. I know it sounds funny, but to Mueller just the thought of it surviving was scary. You should’ve seen his face when he spoke of it. It was as if he had seen the devil himself.”

  “So,” Lije cut in, “anything else? Anyone else? Do you have any more information on this Ark of Death? Where we can go to find out more about the legend?”

  “No. It seems we’re the only ones who care about Bleicher, the Ark of Death, and how all of this ties to something hidden on Swope’s Ridge.”

  “No one else?” Lije asked.

  “I met an Englishman.” Her voice drifted off. “He gave me a few clues, but he can’t tell us any more than he already has.”

  “You sure?” Jameson asked.

  “Positive.”

  Lije had hoped for much more. He wanted documents to review and photos to examine. Instead he’d been told about a legend that was probably nothing more than myth. The fact that Curtis had found no thread to anyone else interested in Bleicher was disappointing. This meant the body they’d found probably had nothing to do with Kaitlyn. They were no closer to finding answers to her death. And now, where else could they look? Curtis hadn’t come back with any leads that pointed them in a new direction.

  He sighed and stood up. Without a word, he left the room, walked through the reception area, and stepped out into the late afternoon air. After unceremoniously plopping down on one of the city’s wooden benches, he watched the last of the farmers who’d been selling produce near the courthouse pack up and head home. In three hours the city square would again come to life as musicians from all over the county brought their instruments to town for the weekly Saturday-night singing. Until then, the squirrels would hunt through the grass for anything the farmers had left behind.

  This was small-town life. Normally he loved just soaking it in, but now it offered no solace. What he needed were answers.

  30

  THE LAST OF THE FARMERS HAD JUST DRIVEN OFF when Lije’s law partner joined him on the park bench. Jameson allowed her eyes to follow Lije’s to the courthouse lawn.

  “The white one’s still there,” he pointed out.

  “The albino squirrel?” She seemed genuinely shocked. “You mean he’s being accepted by the others?”

  “More than accepted. This guy now appears to be in charge. I guess sometimes it’s good to be different.” He turned to face her. “What do you think?”

  “The information’s solid, but where does it get us? Knowing who the body is, that’s good. Knowing that he was not really a member of the SS takes a bit of the ‘ick’ factor out. But I can’t see that it helps us uncover why the Ridge is so important to the people who tried to kill you. Something’s missing.”

  “I know, but we deal with what we have. Right now we have no more.”

  “Lije, I think Curtis is holding out on us.”

  He was shocked. What did Heather mean? Curtis was the one who had come the closest to getting hurt or killed. She seemed to be the member of the team who had the most to fear. She had voluntarily gone to Germany and obviously worked hard looking for answers. She’d even found a few. So why did his partner think the former ABI agent was withholding information? “You have reasons behind your hunch?”

  Jameson shrugged. “I don’t trust her. I don’t think she’s on our side. I just feel she’s hiding something.”

  He had sensed a growing animosity between the two. They also appeared to be in competition to be top dog in the investigation. If things were going to work, these two needed to lay aside their differences and quit worrying about pecking order.

  “Cut her some slack and give her some room. She’ll prove herself.” He looked at her, but her eyes were on the squirrels frolicking across the street. Sensing she wasn’t going to answer, he rose from the bench and reentered the office. “Diana, you want to get something to eat?”

  “Sure.” It seemed the mere mention of food had revved her motor. She wandered into the reception area, looking as if she was raring to go. “I need to get my purse out of my car.”

  Jameson, who was standing at the front door, said, “I’ll get it.”

  “Naw,” Curtis replied. “The car’s locked. Why don’t you two close things up here. Maybe over dinner you can tell me how the Jones case is going. I heard McGee is hard at work on it. Can’t believe he tracked that guy down in Waco.”

  Her words had barely cleared her mouth when Lije’s cell rang. He pulled the phone from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and said, “Speaking of the devil. Hey, Kent.”

  Lije listened, then nodded. “I understand. Sounds like a good lead. Let us know if it pans out.”

  He paused, holding his left hand in the air to signal the women to wait for a moment. “Listen, Diana’s here. Bleicher was a double agent, but I guess she already told you that.”

  Lije glanced back toward the investigator. “Really. Well, nothing that has to be discussed tonight. I’ll catch you up when you get back to the hills. Keep me informed.”

  He closed his phone. “I’m ready if you all are. Want to go to Fred’s Fish House?”

  “That’d be great,” Curtis said. “Let me get my purse.”

&nb
sp; She walked outside, and Lije and Heather began to flip off the lights in the century-old stone building. Lije had just checked the back door and walked into his office when an explosion shook the building. He was knocked into a wall and slid to the floor. He was sure the ceiling, which now had jagged cracks in it, would fall down on him at any moment.

  31

  DUST FILTERED DOWN FROM THE CEILING AS LIJE screamed, “Heather, you okay?”

  An old light fixture was swinging and a pen rolled off his desk. He pulled himself to his feet. Then the smell of smoke hit him and he rushed out toward the front of his office.

  Heather was in the hallway. The two raced through the reception area and stopped just a few feet from the room’s plate-glass windows. Curtis’s Ford Focus was engulfed in flames. Whatever had ripped through the car had done so with such great force that no one in or near the vehicle could have survived. The doors and hood had been blown off and the glass in every window was shattered.

  “My Lord,” Jameson whispered.

  “Don’t think this was his work,” Lije muttered.

  He heard a siren. Someone had already called 911.

  “Diana! “ he said. She’d been lucky two other times; the bullets had missed. But this time, whoever wanted her dead had succeeded. What did she know that had cost the woman her life?

  Lije stepped out of his office just as the first fire truck rounded the corner of the square. Two more followed. A unit from the local police force was next. But the lawyer’s eyes were drawn to the flames. The vehicle had all but melted. Metal, vinyl, glass, and leather had been transformed into an almost indistinguishable mass.

  As the first blast of water hit what had once been a car, black smoke pushed toward the office. Covering his face with his arm, Lije struggled to stay on the raised sidewalk. Still, the combination of heat and smoke was about to drive him inside when he heard someone coughing to his right. He glanced over, expecting to see Jameson. Instead, he saw Diana Curtis leaning against the front wall of his office.

  She was alive? How?

  A bit of over-spray from a fireman’s hose hit him. He raced over to Curtis, grabbed her arm, and yanked her through his front door. Slamming the door shut to keep out the smoke and smell, he stared at her. “I thought you were in the car.”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Heather, get me some water,” he barked as he led Curtis to a chair. “Okay, kid, how did you get out of this with your life?”

  She looked up into his gray eyes and shook her head.

  “Here you go,” Jameson announced as she handed Diana a cold bottle of Ozarka Spring Water.

  Curtis nodded, took the plastic container, and lifted it to her mouth. As she drank, she peeked up at Lije.

  “How did you get out?” Jameson demanded.

  “I wasn’t in the car,” Diana whispered, her eyes never leaving Lije’s. “I unlocked the door, grabbed my purse, and the wind caught a newspaper that was on the front seat and blew it out into the street. I ran to get it. A few seconds later it sounded as if the whole town had exploded. The force knocked me to the ground and I crawled over to the sidewalk.”

  “You’re lucky,” Lije noted.

  He walked back toward the front window. The firemen had knocked out the flames. But no amount of water could wash away the questions now burning in his mind. Why? Why did someone need her dead? Did this tie in to the body on the ridge? Was this the reason the Bible verses were underlined? How could there be so many clues and so few answers? He was so consumed in thought he didn’t notice Jameson walk up beside him.

  “They always just barely miss,” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “They always just barely miss her.”

  “Yeah. She’s a lucky one, all right. If it hadn’t been for the wind…” Glancing back over at Curtis, he smiled. She had more lives than any cat he’d ever known.

  “Lije,” Jameson said.

  He turned to face Heather. “What is it?”

  His partner leaned closer and whispered, “What did Kent tell you that shocked you a little?”

  “What do you mean? I don’t recall anything.”

  “You answered something he said with the word ‘Really.’ “

  Had he said that? What had set it off? McGee hadn’t given him anything new on the case. In fact he was at a dead end. Oh, yeah, now he remembered. Bending, he whispered to Jameson, “McGee wanted to know what Curtis had found out about Bleicher. Said he hadn’t talked to her since her return to the States.”

  Jameson nodded. “Then how did she know about Kent working so hard on the Jones case? And finding the guy in Waco.”

  Lije turned back toward Curtis. No one knew…except…

  He glanced down at her jeans. There was no dirt on the knees. If she had been knocked down by the blast and crawled…

  32

  JANIE DAVIES WAS UP BY SIX-THIRTY ON SUNDAY. After feeding Harlow, the smooth-coat collie she’d named after her favorite classic film star, the woman drained a glass of orange juice and slipped into her workout gear. She warmed up by stretching and doing some light weight-lifting, then hit the treadmill for an hour.

  She’d set a goal of running in a marathon before Christmas. She’d convinced Heather Jameson to team up for the roadwork. The duo was doing at least two ten-mile runs a week up and down the hills surrounding Salem. Just breathing in the fresh air, feeling her strength growing with each step, challenging her body, made the runs one of the most exhilarating experiences she’d ever known. Yet even as Janie reveled in them, she knew her partner dreaded each day.

  Their first real test would be a half marathon in Little Rock a month away. Janie was ready, but Jameson still needed to push herself. Because the blind woman could run only as fast as the sighted person leading her down the course, she prayed the lawyer was ready to kick her training up a notch.

  After her indoor workout, Janie showered and got ready for church. She usually caught a ride with her neighbor Marge, a widowed teacher who lived down the block, but she was out of town, so Lije was picking her up. She tapped the top of the clock that sat beside her bed and heard “Nine-thirty-five a.m.” She still had time for a bowl of cereal and a banana.

  She was just finishing her Special K when she heard the doorbell. Putting the bowl in the sink, she navigated through her two-bedroom home to the front door.

  “You’re early,” she said, then added, “At least for you you’re early.”

  “And how did you know it was me?” Lije asked.

  She could hear the curiosity dripping from his voice. “Do we have to play this game again?” She laughed.

  “Yes. I want to know. I really want to develop your skill.”

  She ignored his need to fully understand her. After all, a magician didn’t give away secrets. She enjoyed that the team thought there was a mysterious power only she had harnessed. It gave her a leg up and it meant each of them listened when she spoke.

  “You be good while we’re gone, Harlow.” Janie picked up her Braille Bible and stepped out of the house. “Not many clouds.” She walked down the sidewalk toward the driveway. Stopping, she turned and asked, “Did you park where you were supposed to or are you playing with me again today? Marge is must nicer than you are. I never walk into the front fender of a car when she picks me up.”

  “I hit my mark.”

  Smiling, Janie confidently marched to the driveway, took a side step to the left, six more steps, then a right and four more strides before reaching down and grabbing the passenger door handle. She grinned. “Lije Evans, I’ve got you pretty well trained.”

  They both buckled up and Lije backed the car down the driveway. Again he prodded, “How did you know it was me?”

  Janie offered her quirky smile. “This is really getting old now, but here it goes. For starters, it’s the car. You drove the Prius. When you drive it, there’s no sound other than the tires rolling on the driveway. Anyone else who picks me up would still have a car whose gas engine w
as running, but since yours is a hybrid, it’s almost completely silent.

  “Next, you carefully closed your door, trying so hard not to make any noise. Who else who visits me does that? You really are predictable. It’s the same way at the office. You always try to sneak up on me, but I can hear you a mile away. All of your shoes have telltale nuances. The squeak one pair makes drives me up a wall, and you’ve probably never even noticed it.

  “Then there’s Harlow. If it’d been a stranger, she’d have let me know. So you passed the dog test. Only a few people do that. So I was sure it was you.

  “But the final sign was evident when I went to the door. I could smell your Old Spice aftershave. You’re probably the last person in Fulton County who still wears that. What’s wrong with one of the newer brands like Gray Flannel?”

  “I’ve got to fine tune my senses more,” he said. “That’s amazing. Oh, and I like Old Spice—my dad wore it and my grandfather wore it.”

  “And if they’d drive the ’36 Cord off a cliff, would you do that too? I don’t think so.” Janie smiled. “It might be months away, but I know what I’m getting you for Christmas, and you’d better wear it. Now, what’s wrong with your sense of direction? We should’ve turned right at the last stop and we turned left.”

  “I’ve got to stop by the office. In the confusion after Curtis’s car being bombed, I left something I need.”

  “Have you talked with her this morning?”

  “Actually, no. She told us last night she was going to sleep in this morning. Wouldn’t doubt she sleeps the day through. She was pretty wrung out.” He pulled in and parked. “We’re here, but I guess I didn’t need to tell you that. You want to come in?”

  “No, I’ll wait in the car. Just don’t be too long. I hate to be late for Sunday school.”

  As Lije opened the car door, Janie smelled the stench of burned rubber that still lingered in the morning air. She had heard the explosion at home, but it had been more than two hours before Lije called and she found out what had happened. He’d told her Curtis had been lucky, but Janie didn’t believe in luck. There was a reason the woman hadn’t been blown to bits. In fact, when you slice away all the camouflage that most people see, there were always obvious reasons why things happened.