Riddles that Kill

by Lois D. Brown

  “Seeking Adventure And Gold? Crack This Poem And Head Outdoors” National Public Radio, aired March 13, 2016. http://www.npr.org/2016/03/13/ 469852983/seeking-adventure-and-gold-crack-this-poem-and-head-outdoors

  The song playing on the car radio abruptly stopped and was replaced with crackly static, which Maria ignored. The meeting with Steven Veil and Nathan Porter had been completely useless, and time was something Maria had little of to waste.

  Ms. Tuttle had called this morning. The women had played all night yet they still had had no major breakthroughs about where the Riddle pointed to specifically in Jarbidge. The most promising references were still something about Scotland, the bullet card, and a Devil’s Coup, but that was about it. Nothing conclusive. Nothing strong enough for Maria to fly off to Scotland. Or to the devil.

  Maria crossed Main and drove down a side street to her home. She reached out to fix the radio when a strange ring tone filled her car.

  “What on earth?” Maria looked around, lifted up some papers on her passenger seat, and saw an unfamiliar phone there.

  Where had that come from?

  Maria pulled over to the side of the road and answered the phone, which showed that an “unknown” number was calling it.

  “Hello?” said Maria.

  A raspy, digitally altered voice said, “You’re taking too much time.”

  “Excuse me?” Maria’s heart sped up. Was the kidnapper was making contact at last?

  “You’re taking too much time to solve the riddle I left.”

  “Did you kidnap Justin?” Maria forced her voice to stay steady.

  “You must solve the riddle if you ever want to find the boy. Show me how smart you are.”

  “I’m not that smart.”

  “Then use your gift. Solve the riddle.”

  “I have no gift.”

  “Do you want to see Justin again?”

  “Let me talk with him. Is he with you?”

  The digitized voice paused. “If I let you talk with Justin, you will not tell the FBI about this call. You must solve the riddle by yourself. Quickly.”

  “The FBI constantly watches what I do. They think the riddle is a distraction. I need more time.”

  “You haven’t even tried to solve it and it’s been five days. No more time!” The voice turned angry.

  “I’ll do what I can, but my hands are tied by the FBI who is investigating the case. Is there something else you want from me? I’ll do anything.”

  “No. You have two days to solve the riddle. After that, the boy dies. We’re following you.”

  For the first time since Justin was taken, Maria’s gut feeling that he was okay faded. The voice—or more accurately the person behind the voice—had evil intentions. Had those intentions changed from the beginning, or was the person on the phone different than the person who left the note? Whatever it was, a new sick feeling spread through Maria until she was quite sure she was going to vomit.

  “I promise I won’t tell the FBI about this call. Let me talk to Justin, please.” Maria didn’t know if sounding desperate would help or hinder her cause. Regardless, the new dread that filled her was terrifying.

  “How do I know you won’t tell them?” the voice asked.

  “You have my word. Just don’t hurt the boy.”

  “And you will do everything I say?”

  Maria was being manipulated. It was Tehran all over again. People she loved were being used against her. In Tehran she’d stayed tough. She’d followed her training. She’d refused to cooperate and she’d lost her entire team. This time would be different.

  “I will do whatever you tell me to,” Maria said resolutely. “Let me talk with Justin.”

  Call it the Sight or just good old-fashioned police instinct, but Maria knew one thing for sure. The rules of the game had just changed.

  “Use your gift to solve the riddle,” the voice commanded.

  “I will. I’ll use the gift.”

  The phone went silent.

  “Hello? Are you still there?” Maria’s thoughts raced. Was the kidnapper with Justin or was Justin going to be patched in electronically? Had he been fed? Was he given a bed?

  “Hi?” A child’s voice echoed over the phone connection.

  “Justin?” Hearing him only made Maria’s panic grow tenfold. How could anyone take a child from his parents? “How ya doin’ bud? You okay?”

  Calm. Keep your voice calm.

  “Yeah, Chief. I’m okay. I watch a lot of T.V. My mom would be mad.”

  To hear Justin call her “Chief” about did Maria in. She didn’t feel worthy of the nickname. “No, honey, your mom wouldn’t be mad. She loves you so much. If watching T.V. helps you feel better then watch all you want.”

  A muffled cry. Justin was trying so hard to be tough. “I just wanna go home. Can you come get me? I miss everyone.”

  Heart. Tearing. Apart.

  “Yes,” Maria lied. “I’m coming to get you. I’ll be there soon. Can you hang on another day or two? I’m trying to find something very important and then I’ll come and bring you home.”

  “I can hang on. If I know you’re coming, I can hang on.”

  “Justin, I need you to be—”

  “He’s off the line—” said the electronic voice. “You heard he is okay and he is counting on you. Find the answer to the riddle and you’ll get him back.”

  “How do I contact you?” asked Maria desperately.

  “You don’t contact me. You solve the riddle, by yourself. I’ll be following you. I’m being serious. Don’t tell anyone about this call or take anyone with you to solve the riddle. If you do, we kill the boy.”

  The line went dead. Maria had hoped Justin might be able to give her some clue about his captors or his location. But, in reality, he was an eight year-old frightened boy who was just hoping for some comfort and a promise of hope. A promise of being with his family again.

  One word spun around and around in Maria’s head.

  Jarbidge.

  As amazing as Ms. Tuttle was, Maria couldn’t wait for the librarian to figure out the rest of the Veil riddle. Maria had a location. To search one hundred thousand acres was better than an entire continent. She had to go there and try.

  Maria set down the burner phone and picked up her own. She searched the internet for the phone number for private tours over the Grand Canyon. Finding a number, she called it and asked how much to book a private flight to Jarbidge.

  Ten minutes later, after maxing out three of her credit cards, Maria had passage to Murphy Hot Springs Airport in Idaho. After landing, she would have an hour drive on a dirt road to get to the not-so-thriving town of Jarbidge, total population less than two hundred.

  The location of the soon-to-be-found Veil treasure.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A treasure hunter who disappeared this year while searching for a cache of gold and jewels in the New Mexico wilderness was confirmed dead after his remains were discovered west of Santa Fe. Bilyeu disappeared in early January while searching for antiquities dealer and writer Forrest Fenn’s $2m hoard of gold and jewels in northern New Mexico.

  “Treasure hunter who went looking for $2m in gold found dead in New Mexico,” The Guardian, July 26, 2016.

  If there was one thing Maria knew how to do, it was pack light. Years of being on the go had taught her that. And even though she still had eight hours until her flight to Jarbidge that evening, she wanted to be ready. The pilot had only agreed to the trip because she was willing to go after hours. If she’d had her way, she’d be leaving this minute. Justin’s kidnapper wanted her in Jarbidge, so that is where she would go. No resistance. No push back. She would do whatever it took. The FBI had all but failed to this point. She was taking matters into her own hands.

  Maria took off the holster and gun she wore when dressed in her police uniform and set it on the top of her dresser. She would be traveling incognito, which meant using her concealed Glock. Next, she grabbed an extra shirt and pair
of pants out of the drawer and put them on top of the dresser as well. Not having any idea how long she would be in Jarbidge, Maria headed to the bathroom to grab her overnight toiletry bag.

  As she opened the door, she heard something rustle behind her. As she turned around something heavy smacked into her head, and she crumpled to the floor.

  Maria had tried to wake herself for several minutes, but the process had been long and arduous. Her nosed itched and a rancid smell invaded her nostrils.

  What time was it and why is my bed so uncomfortable?

  “Hello?” A man’s voice jarred her from her grogginess.

  Slowly, details of what had happened formed in her mind. She wasn’t in bed. Someone had hit her in the head. Who, she didn’t know.

  Forcing her eyes to open, Maria saw a blurry figure of Karl Fossum propped up on his elbows, lying on her bed.

  “Hello there, Chief.” The mocking tone was obvious.

  Disoriented, Maria tried to stand up and nearly knocked the chair over to which her ankles and wrists were tied. “W-what do you want?” Her words slurred. She grunted as she pulled at the ropes holding her tightly.

  “I used to be a Boy Scout, Chief. I even got my knot tying merit badge. Those ropes ain’t going nowhere.” His sick laughter filled the room.

  The way he spoke made Maria feel just as woozy as did the hit to her head. He was the kind of person who thought he was so clever but who, every time he opened his mouth, was insulting.

  “Boy Scouts? What are you talking about?” Thoughts were forming more clearly now as the haze lifted from her mind. She recalled packing for her trip to Jarbidge before heading for the bathroom to get some items.

  “Wanna know something crazy?” asked Karl. He turned sideways and rested his head on her pillow. A horrid odor emanated from his direction. The sight of him on her bedding made her want to burn it. “After I gave my Vegas buddies the slip, I came back here to give you what you deserved. Imagine how surprised I was when I heard one of the brats you had with you at the creek had been taken.”

  Hearing the man call Justin a brat sparked a flame of anger that helped Maria shake the rest of her fatigue. No longer were her eyes droopy. Wide awake, she was more and more aware of her predicament—Karl Fossum was in her bedroom and she was tied to a chair!

  “Talk about bad timing. I arrive in town and … wham … the town’s full of busybodies puttin’ up flyers with my picture sayin’ I kidnapped the kid. Now, that’s a lie.”

  “Why did you come back to Kanab if it wasn’t to kidnap Justin?” Maria continued to tug at the ropes binding her wrists.

  “I came back so you and I could have a little talk. I needed to teach you a lesson about not stickin’ your nose in other people’s business. But it’s been rough finding a time you and I could chat. Just the two of us.” He winked at her.

  Maria’s mouth curled in distaste.

  “But I didn’t come back to take any kid. So, you can go ahead and let the feds know to leave me alone.” Karl turned onto his back and crossed his ankles, gazing up at the ceiling.

  Maria was definitely going to throw her bedding away after this. “Karl, I’m not an idiot. You took Justin to get back at me. It was … understandable.” She forced herself to try and befriend him. “But you’re getting in deeper than you want to be. Kidnapping is a bad business. Perpetrators get long, long prison sentences. But if you told the FBI this very minute where Justin is, your sentence would be a lot shorter. It would go a long way in court. But if you continue keeping him hidden, no judge in Utah or Nevada is going to go light on you.”

  Karl continued to stare at the ceiling. Maria worried he’d fallen asleep.

  “Karl?”

  As if the bed had lit on fire, the man jumped off and planted his two feet on the ground. He was a pitiful sight with shoes and pants covered in dirt and a shirt with large sweat stains under his armpits. Living in the hills outside of Kanab had not helped his lack of personal hygiene.

  Karl glared at Maria. “Lady, you ain’t listenin’ to me. I didn’t take the kid.” He took a breath and stepped closer to her. His breath reeked of week-old garbage. “But, I wouldn’t mind takin’ you for a while. Don’t you think we could have fun together?”

  Maria couldn’t take another second of his idiocy. “You are the last man on earth I would ever want to be with.”

  Karl took another step forward and slapped her. Pain radiated through her face. He pulled a knife out of his back pocket and flipped it open. “That was rude, and I don’t like rude people.” Karl turned and began to pace back-and-forth across the bedroom, swinging the knife to this side as he moved.

  Behind him, Maria’s bedroom door was open. The lights were off in the living room as well as in the kitchen. She wished she could see the clock on the wall. She had no idea what time it was. “Why would I believe that you didn’t take Justin? Prove it to me.” She had to keep him distracted.

  Karl studied her face. “First off, I don’t do kids. They bug me. Always have. What would I do with some snotty-nosed brat underfoot?” He snorted. “No, I stick to the basics—drugs, stealin’, that kind of stuff. Every once in a while I get in a fight—but no kids. That’s not my style.”

  Maria continued squirming her wrists back and forth, hoping to create more slack in the rope.

  “When I pulled that knife on the kid at the creek, it was you who made me do it by pulling out your gun. That wasn’t cool.”

  “You were high on drugs, Karl.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe you were high when you took Justin, too.”

  “I didn’t take the kid!” Karl spun and began pacing again. “Though I wouldn’t mind getting the ransom money. But there are other ways to get money.”

  Despite the repeated pang of fear in her gut—one that anyone would have being tied to a chair against her will by a knife-wielding crazy man—Maria’s CIA training was kicking in. Try as he might, Karl didn’t have the menacing character he was trying to portray. And his profile wasn’t that of a kidnapper.

  In fact, Maria had always been somewhat incredulous that a guy like Karl had been able to pull off a kidnapping. He was the sort to tumble through an open door drunk and make a huge scene. Then again, the man had managed to get into her house and take her prisoner. The only excuse she could come up with was that she had been overwhelmingly distracted. A lame reason, but one she told herself to not get so mad she was in this situation.

  Karl was getting more and more agitated, scratching at his face and mumbling.

  “Karl?”

  Silence.

  “Karl? What are you going to do?”

  He slashed at the air with the knife. “Shut up! I’m thinkin’.” He walked back and forth, stashing his knife in his back pocket as he did.

  Maria was unsure whether she should continue to egg him on or ignore him. She wanted to speed the process up and didn’t know which would be the quickest way to incite him to do whatever it was he planned to do with her. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. But the longer Maria was stuck in the chair, the more time ticked away for her to go to Jarbidge and find whoever the real kidnapper was. Karl didn’t have a killer’s instinct, but whoever had spoken to her on the burner phone did. The thought of that conversation caused beads of sweat to break out on Maria’s forehead.

  Time passed much too quickly as Karl paced. Maria had decided to ignore him, hoping that would cause some action on his part. To each of his questions, Maria remained silent and wore the expression that she was daydreaming about a Hawaiian vacation.

  After a minute or two, Karl was red in the face. “Are you even listenin’? Look at me!” He approached her chair and then bent over so he was only inches from her face. “Don’t ignore me.” Spit flew out of his mouth and sprayed her.

  She would be showering and throwing away her bedding once this was all over.

  Think, Maria, think.

  The fact that Karl hadn’t seen her gun on top of the
dresser was encouraging. The second he untied her, that gun would be in her hands pointed at his heart. She might end up with a knife wound, but those weren’t fatal … typically. It would be worth it to save Justin.

  Karl slapped her face a second time. “I asked if you were listenin’?”

  “What did you say?” Maria couldn’t help it. Now she was egging him on.

  “I said I need a way out of this town. I need money and a lot of it. Because of you I’m not going to be able to show my face anywhere without it being on some policeman’s radar.”

  Maria startled.

  Behind Karl, down the hallway, she had seen a movement. It had been brief, but someone had been there.

  Was it one of her ghosts? Or Pete, maybe? What a stroke of luck that would be. He would bring his gun in here and end this nonsense. But why was he taking so long? Why didn’t he hurry?

  Then again, Pete was a level-headed man—he was probably assessing the situation before rushing in blindly.

  Patience. This will end soon.

  Relief spread throughout Maria’s tense muscles. She focused on Karl’s face so he wouldn’t clue in to what was happening behind him. “You need money, huh?” Maria asked. “How much are you talking about?”

  “A hundred thousand dollars. I need it by tonight.”

  Maria laughed. “You think I have that much money just hanging around, ready to be given to some druggie?”

  Karl slapped her again. This time he made it sting. Maybe he had more bite to him than she’d assumed.

  Behind Karl, someone had exited the second bedroom and was creeping down the hall toward Maria’s bedroom.

  Rod!

  That was good … and bad. Rod didn’t use a gun—a weakness Maria had tried to change—but he’d refused. Instead of a firearm, in his hand he held her marble rolling pin from the kitchen. If things hadn’t felt quite so desperate, the sight would have made her laugh.

  “I’m sure you got plenty of stuff that’s worth money around here. Jewelry, for example. What do you have hiding in your dresser?”