First Night of Summer (19 page)

The dried blood on the lace made it feel stiff and crusty. Isaac wiped his hand across his jeans in reaction. He was white as a ghost and felt as thin as one, too. His heart pounded loudly, like it wanted to escape. Everything centered on the rhythm of its beat, the anger welling within.

A neatly folded paper remained inside the bubble wrap. The note was handwritten.

Dear Josephine, Mindy was good. Real good. But not good enough. There is simply no one else that will do. I’ll be seeing you. Soon
.

XOXO

P.S. Do you like red?

Part Two

When in Rome, do as the Romans do
.

St. Ambrose, 387 A.D.

Chapter Forty-One

A
shadow box of arrowheads hung on the wall. In the polished glass surface, Ricky could see a reflection of the dining room behind him. He sat in a corner booth, slowly chewing a bite of burger without revealing his face. The last thing he wanted was to be caught staring. And in a room full of people, he feared the slightest mistake might draw unwanted attention.

Jack’s Café sat off the beaten path, away from the tourist restaurants that lined the main drag in Ruidoso. The old lumberjack’s kitchen served a steady stream of locals, hungry for a hearty lunch on weekdays. On both of the previous Tuesdays, Isaac, Sarah, and Josie had gone there for lunch. Going on a hunch that they would go a third time, Ricky arrived early, found an ideal seat at the self-seating establishment, and patiently nibbled at his meal. Coming back to where it had all gone wrong three months earlier felt like jumping into the fire. But then again, no one had seen his face at the scene of Caroline’s death, and he was certain he could go unrecognized.

Bells rattled on the front door. He looked up from his plate and into the reflection on the shadow box. His heart skipped a beat as Isaac stepped inside.

Ricky had thought of this many times over the summer. He knew he and Isaac would meet again, someway, somehow. Now the moment was upon him. Certain the reunion would stir something inside, he never imagined fear to be the overwhelming sensation. Sitting a mere fifteen feet away from the protector of his most treasured target, Josie, was not like watching through a set of binoculars while hidden in the woods a hundred yards away. This felt much more intense, unnerving. The tall, athletic man had a confidence about him, an essence of capability. Ricky had seen it firsthand, barely escaping Isaac on a dark, rainy night through a lucky turn of events. Ricky had no doubt that, if Isaac had gotten his hands around him in the girls’ bedroom or out on the lawn, he would be dead or in prison.

He watched Isaac casually glance around the room and turn back to hold the door open. To anyone who knew him, Isaac probably seemed like a kind friend and loving family man. Ricky, though, had seen a different side of the ex-airman, a dangerous, unflappable side with menace and determination in his black eyes. He truly hoped this was the closest he would ever have to get to Isaac again.

Then Josie came inside. Ricky stopped chewing, his jaw freezing in place as the little ray of light filled his putrid mind with heat. Only his eyes moved as her reflection floated across the glass in front of him. She shone like a double exposure, only a half reflection, but enough to make Ricky’s mouth water. Fresh saliva pooled on his tongue with a craving more ominous than food could quench. He let the liquid slide around his mouth, moistening his cheeks and lips before swallowing it down. It took every ounce of willpower not to turn around, drink her in, fall on his knees, and caress her tender skin. An image of him grabbing her and running away flashed in his thoughts.

Finally, Sarah came inside the restaurant and placed both her hands on Josie’s shoulders. Ricky felt a tinge of jealousy. She was allowed to touch Josie. He was not.

Sarah pointed to a table in the middle of the room and nudged Josie forward. Two men were seated at one end of an eight-top and smiled as the Snows pulled up chairs alongside them.

“What have you two scoundrels been up to?” Ricky heard Isaac ask.

“Fishing and golf,” one of the retired men replied with mock sarcasm. He had the look of a sun worshiper, tanned skin, deeply grooved lines around his eyes, and a decently fit body for his age.

A skittering sound echoed around the square dining room as Isaac slid his chair legs across the ancient linoleum floor.

“Yeah?” Isaac studied the man for a moment. He wore a short-sleeved, plaid, button-down shirt, and, despite the warm weather, a sweater vest and khakis. A pair of golf shoes was still on his feet. “And how’d you shoot this morning?”

Both old men chuckled. “Humph. Too high to brag about.” The first elbowed the second. “But we sure gave it hell, didn’t we, Ed?”

This started another round of chuckling. The old friends were clearly enjoying the fruits of long years and hard work. The most stressful part of their day was fretting over a stroke or two on their golf score.

Ricky steadied himself and remembered to look casual. He drank a swallow of iced tea and had another bite of burger. It all felt so trivial, but details made for good spy craft. He needed to appear as one with the setting, whatever it may be. He focused on slowing his heart. His blood pressure and temperature were certainly up, evidence of tiny sweat droplets showing on his upper lip and forehead. Caroline was gone. That couldn’t be changed. He knew her death was his responsibility. There was no one else to blame. He could still feel the glass crushing around them as their bodies flew out the window and into the rain-drenched lawn. Even though he didn’t know it at the time, he wasn’t surprised to learn that a piece of glass had sliced into her little body and drained her of life. His junior mistake, followed by a poor reaction, had killed her. Now Josie was all he had left. And if he messed this up, he would fail completely. The pressure weighed heavily on his mind.

Ricky wondered if anyone might see through his disguise. He looked down at himself. A heavily worn pearl snap shirt, faded jeans, and work boots fit the setting perfectly. A baseball-style cap with an industrial equipment emblem sat on his head. He looked like any other guy who earned a paycheck with his hands. He even had a shallow story concocted, just in case he was forced to engage in brief conversation. A ski mask covered his face when last Isaac saw him. And anyone else in town—anyone who had seen him at the hotel where he stayed—had no reason to remember him. He remained a perfect stranger.

Secure in his confidence of anonymity, he felt the unsuspected squeeze of a hand on his shoulder. Startled more from his previous train of thought, he jerked slightly before looking up into a pair of eyes intent on his attention.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did you say something?”

The pregnant waitress held up a pitcher. “Would you like some more tea?” She nodded toward his glass across the table. It was just out of reach with her distended belly.

He lifted the red, plastic cup for a refill. “Please.”

As she shuffled away, he tuned his ears back to the table where Josie sat. They were in the middle of a conversation, and he could hear them clearly.

“That’s right, Paul,” Isaac confirmed. “Just me and Josie.”

“Sarah, you’re not going with them?”

“Part of the way,” she said. “They’ll fly me to Albuquerque on Thursday and go on from there. I have a three-day cancer walk Friday through Sunday.”

Ricky perked up his ears. His mind was bent on every morsel of information as Sarah continued. He knew there was no realistic way he would find to kidnap Josie around Ruidoso again. At least he didn’t think so. She was watched closer than ever, and he felt too vulnerable to work where his luck had turned sour. The place felt like bad voodoo. He wished he could catch Josie somewhere out of town, someplace where her parents’ guard was down.

“I started doing them in college,” Sarah explained, “and decided to keep it up. I’ve done one every year since my mother passed away from breast cancer.”

“This weekend?” Paul, the retiree, shook his head. “It’s gonna be a hot one. Isaac, you’re not doing it with her?”

“Are you kidding me? Sixty miles in three days. I’m not so sure I’m tough enough. Besides, it gives Josie a chance to see her grandparents in Taos before school starts.”

The same waitress who served Ricky arrived with their food. The two retired codgers were finished and stood to excuse themselves. The same one who had done all the talking, Paul, said, “Good luck, Sarah.” He put his hat on and gave a casual salute to Isaac. “Say hi to your folks for me.”

Ricky’s mind ran with the potential. It was impossible to form a plan yet, but Josie was headed out of town, and he knew right where she would be. If they were flying to Taos, there was one obvious place to intercept them, Taos Regional Airport. Luckily, it was the only airfield in town and the only place for them to land. As sure as the sun rose in the East, he would be there waiting.

He stood, put ten dollars on the table, and made for the door. Outside on the pine needle-covered parking lot, he opened the door to his newly acquired Chevrolet pickup truck. Bringing the van back to Ruidoso was entirely too risky. The truck fit the bill nicely, and he had to admit that it made a good change from the cumbersome van. He stayed with a white paint job to keep a low profile. Four doors with a backseat provided a good amount of extra room. Not like the van, but enough. He also bought it with four-wheel drive. It would more than pay for itself in the Rocky Mountain winters.

In the bed of the pickup, he stored a shovel and a chainsaw with a few scraps of wood. And no working man’s vehicle was complete without a ball attached to the trailer hitch. With his newfound information and disguise in place, he had to lay down some miles. He didn’t know exactly how Josie would come to him, but she would. He wouldn’t stop until she did.

Chapter Forty-Two

A
ugust heat waves lifted off the candy apple red hood of Isaac’s classic pickup. He parked outside a row of rental hangars at the Sierra Blanca Regional Airport. Josie and Sarah waited in the cab to enjoy the air-conditioner while he prepped their airplane.

Inside the sliding metal doors, he attached a tow bar to the front wheel and pulled. Sunshine glinted off the brilliant white paint as it nosed out of shadow and into light. A welcome breeze felt cool on Isaac’s glossy skin in contrast to the stagnant air inside the tin structure. When he cleared the doorway, Sarah pulled forward and stopped the truck where the plane had just sat. They would keep it there, locked away for the weekend.

While Isaac went about the pre-flight checklist, Josie helped Sarah transfer the luggage from the bed of the pickup to the storage compartment of the Cessna 172.

A few minutes later, Isaac declared, “She’s good to go. Let’s load up.”

Josie needed help climbing into the backseat, and Isaac lifted her in. He playfully popped her on the bottom as she ducked her head and went to sit. Flying was his favorite pastime in the world. Combine it with the company of his family, and life didn’t get any better. The wounds of an unfriendly summer still itched, and their party of three always felt incomplete. He had gone over it numerous times during the last few weeks. Time away, separation from all the little reminders that Caroline was gone, felt exactly like what they needed, a last-minute hoorah before Josie went back to school.

Sarah took the copilot’s seat on the right, and Isaac crawled in on the left. She had stated concern at the onset of their relationship regarding small planes. Isaac assured her that her reservations were based on the same thing that holds most people back in life, fear of the unknown. And he was right. He took her up a few times, showed her the ropes, and explained how safe private aviation can be. Slowly, after a fair share of coaxing, she began to enjoy it and set aside her unfounded apprehension.

Isaac called, “Clear prop,” and engaged the ignition.

The propeller buzzed to life, a steady wash of air now flowing through the open cabin windows. He taxied out of the row of hangars and stopped before hitting the taxiway. A run-up on the gauges confirmed that everything was good to go.

“Cessna zero-zero-niner, requesting permission for takeoff,” he called over the headset.

“Roger that, zero-zero-niner,” a voice came back. “Proceed two-four. Hold short.”

“Two-four, hold short,” he repeated.

At the start of runway two-four, Isaac stopped short of the airstrip. In the distance, a glimmer of an aircraft came closer and closer. They waited until the Beechcraft Bonanza V-tail passed and finally settled to the asphalt. As it slowed and turned off the runway, the air traffic controller came back on.

“Zero-zero-niner, clear for takeoff.”

“Zero-zero-niner, clear for takeoff,” Isaac repeated.

He turned onto the runway and throttled up. The air speed indicator passed ten knots, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, and finally sixty-four KIAS, or knots indicated air speed. Easing the yoke back, the Cessna rose at the nose, and the rear wheels quickly followed. They were off, reaching for the heavens, the skies belonging to the few.

“Up, up, and away!” he proclaimed.

Josie and Sarah were both glued to the windows. He adjusted their course to the north northwest and slowly gained altitude.

When they arrived in Albuquerque, Sarah said her good-byes and got in a yellow taxicab. Isaac hated to see her go alone, but wouldn’t have it any different. The weekend was her way of remembering her mother.

The second leg of the trip went by faster than the first. The scenery below began to make more drastic changes. Mountains grew larger, and the desert in the west drew nearer. Isaac knew every square inch of it. Out of habit, he broke the landscape into grids and searched them for signs of smoke. Even though he was off duty, it never hurt to go the extra mile in the hot, dry months like August.