Missouri Loves Company (Rip Lane Book 1) (2 page)

CHAPTER 4

“A
NY LUCK
?” I said to Anna.

“No,” she said, and shook her head sadly. “None of the other campers can give me a ride out of town.”

“So what’s Plan B?”

“To find a way to get to the Pottsland bus station.”

“I can take you on my motorcycle.”

“Would you? It’s not far.”

I turned to Sally.

“I’ll catch up with you later.”

“You better,” she said, and winked.

“Who was that?” Anna said when Sally had gone.

“My neighbor for the next couple of days.”

“She’s pretty.”

“I didn’t notice.”

My Outlaw Class A toy hauler came equipped with a garage where I could store “toys” like my motorcycle, ATV, and bicycle. Having these vehicles has made my life easier. I haven’t had to disconnect the hookups from my motor home every time I wanted to leave a campground, or reconnect them when I returned. Instead I’ve been able to use one of my “toys” to explore the local area while leaving my motor home at the campground.

Anna, duffel bag in hand, waited outside my RV while I lowered the garage ramp, loosened the ratcheting straps from my Honda Fury, and inserted the key into the ignition. The roar of the engine rumbled loudly in the small confined space of the garage. It took me only a few seconds to back the motorcycle down the ramp.

The coffee at the Pottsland bus station was bitter, though it was better than no coffee at all. By the time Anna had bought her bus ticket I was on my second cup.

“My bus leaves in forty minutes,” she told me as she sat down on the bench beside me.

“Want me to wait with you, keep you company?”

“You don’t mind?”

“Course not. It’ll give me the opportunity to savor more of this gourmet coffee.”

“I’m sure it tastes like antifreeze.”

“As long as it’s caffeinated antifreeze.”

“Guess where my bus is going.”

“Where?”

“Topeka.”

“Have you relatives there?”

“No.”

“Then you should enjoy your visit.”

Out of the corner of my eye I spied two guys casting furtive glances at Anna. They wore expensive Armani suits, but they were still thugs. One was chewing a toothpick. If Anna noticed them, she didn’t show it.

“Do you miss being a marshal, Rip?”

“Can’t complain about retirement.”

“What was the job like?”

“Nonstop action.”

“Were you on horseback?’

I chuckled.

“I was not. But I know that’s the image most people have of U.S. marshals. The reality is that we’re fugitive hunters. We’re the best manhunting force in the world. Each year we capture more criminals than every other federal law-enforcement agency—combined.”

“So you were a bad-ass.”

“What do you mean, ‘were’?”

Anna laughed and crossed her legs. Then she seemed to notice the two guys staring at her. She stood up right away.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and walked away.

She took her duffel bag with her.

CHAPTER 5

A
NNA RETURNED EMPTY
-
HANDED
.

“Where’s your duffel bag,” I said when she had resumed her seat on the bench beside me.

“I put it in a storage locker. One of those big ones.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Just for safekeeping,” she said. “I’ll pick it up right before my bus leaves.”

“Okay.”

“Can you do me a favor, Rip?”

“Does it involve heavy breathing?”

“No.”

“Rubbing lotions?”

“No.”

“What’s the favor.”

“Hold this key for me?”

She held up an orange locker key. She held it up high enough for everybody in the bus station to see. Which seemed strange to me. But human behavior is nothing if it is not strange. So I thought nothing further of it.

“Afraid you might lose it?” I said, taking the key from her hand.

She nodded.

I pocketed the key.

Now the two Armani guys started to steal glances at me.

I sipped my coffee.

“Anna,” I said. “Keep your eyes locked on me. Two guys have been staring at us. They’re sitting near the entrance. In a moment I’m going to stop talking. When I do I want you to wait a few seconds before casually glancing in their direction. They’re both wearing dark suits. One guy’s got a toothpick in his mouth.”

I sipped my coffee again and waited.

“Okay,” Anna said finally. “I spotted them.”

“Know those guys?”

“No.”

“Ever seen them before?”

“Never.”

“Fine. It’s probably nothing then.”

It wasn’t long after that when Anna excused herself to go to the ladies’ room.

I wondered what the Armani suits would do next. Would they watch the door to the ladies’ room? Would they watch me? Would they be brave enough to try the coffee?

My answers came a short time later. One guy watched the door, and one guy watched me. Neither was brave.

Anna was gone a long time. A loooong time.

If she stayed in the ladies’ room much longer, she would miss her bus to Topeka. Which would not be a bad thing for me, because I would get to spend more time with her.

I decided to be a good guy and check on her.

Knock knock knock.

Nobody answered the door to the ladies’ room. I tried again.

Knock-knock knock knock-knock
. . .
knock-knock.

No response. Not even a flush.

Walking into the ladies’ room was not a good option for me. So I recruited a nearby woman.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind checking the ladies’ room for me?”

“Why? Is the men’s room out of toilet paper?”

“Probably. But that’s not why I’m asking. My friend’s been in there a long time, and her bus is leaving soon. Her name’s Anna.”

Anna wasn’t in there. Nobody was. I thanked the woman for checking.

Now it was safe for me to enter. I did. Nobody screamed.

I found a clue—the window was open.

It didn’t necessarily mean Anna had climbed out the window. Maybe she had walked out of the ladies’ room when I wasn’t looking. Maybe she was already sitting on her bus.

She wasn’t. I walked up and down the bus aisle twice to check.

After that I waited outside the bus until it coughed exhaust fumes that partially blotted out its diminishing taillights.

Where the hell was Anna?

I remembered the orange locker key. I took it from my pocket. I went swiftly to the lockers.

The key slid into the lock. The locker door opened.

Empty. No duffel bag.

I closed the locker door and left the key in the lock.

Then I scanned the bus station. The two guys in Armani suits were nowhere in sight.

In the parking lot of the bus station I fired up my motorcycle. Then I set out for S’mores and Snores Campground.

CHAPTER 6

T
HAT EVENING
I got on my laptop to video chat with my parents. I told them about my adventures with Anna.

“. . . and then she just vanished from the bus station,” I said.

“Usually they don’t take off like that until after somebody’s bought them an expensive meal,” Mom said.

“Which is why I never do that,” I said.

“Relationships just aren’t what they used to be,” Dad said.

My parents had first met at a wedding where my dad caught the garter and my mom caught the bouquet. They have been married now for almost fifty years. How many modern marriages last that long? Not many. Mine didn’t.

“How are the neighbors?” I said.

“Noisy as ever,” Dad said. “They come in late at night, slamming car doors, beeping car locks. Early in the morning they put out their barking dogs. During the day they unleash leaf blowers, chainsaws, and screaming kids.”

“Why don’t you say something to them.”

“What difference would it make?” Mom said.

She was right. Inconsiderate neighbors rarely become considerate neighbors just because you ask them to. In fact they often get worse if you complain.

“Best thing,” Dad said, “is to remain friendly but aloof with any inconsiderate neighbors. Try to avoid eye contact. Grunt when they greet you. Just enough of a grunt to communicate friendliness, without communicating interest in any meaningful communications.”

“Why don’t you two buy an RV,” I said. “Sell your house and adopt a mobile lifestyle. Like me. If you’re parked next to annoying neighbors, you can just put your RV in drive and pull away. You’re not trapped next to them for years on end.”

“We’ll give it some thought,” Mom said.

“Do,” I said.

CHAPTER 7

F
IVE A
.
M
.

All was quiet at S’mores and Snores Campground. I took a short walk around the grounds. Half a dozen camper windows glowed like fireflies in the cool early morning dark. I could smell bacon cooking.

After my walk I ate my usual breakfast. Oats and blueberries, for lowering my cholesterol. And hot coffee, for raising my spirits.

Bob the mechanic was supposed to arrive at the campground at noon that day, according to the office manager. I predicted Bob would fix my engine within half an hour, charge me no more than fifty bucks, and I would be on the road before one p.m. Of course predictions rarely turn out to be right, as those who work in the field of weather forecasting are painfully aware.

After breakfast I opened my laptop, turned on some white noise, and started to work on my novel. One of the benefits of retirement is that you can finally do things you always wanted to do but never had time for. Like writing novels.

Writing is a discipline, not unlike working out, eating healthy, and maintaining a schedule. These disciplines have brought order to my life. They have given me some sense of control. Without them I would have become adrift in a chaotic world.

Much of my life has been spent in solitude. I have never tired of it. Being alone is a good thing. Being with people who make you feel alone is not. This is a lesson I learned the hard way.

At seven a.m. I closed my laptop and went out for a run. Three miles later I did some bodyweight training. Pull-ups. Push-ups. Sit-ups.

The hot shower felt good. I shaved in the shower. First my face. Then my head.

I have sported a shaved head ever since joining the United States Marshals Service. At first it was because I didn’t want to have hair that fugitives could grab onto. Then I came to realize that having no hair made my life easier. No trips to the barber. No time wasted on brushing hair, drying hair, spraying hair. No bed head in the morning.

I know that some women don’t like guys with shaved heads. But there are plenty who do. Plenty.

My refrigerator was almost empty, so I motorcycled to the nearest grocery store. It was open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, including holidays.

Grocery shopping is best done early in the morning, when there’s not much traffic on the road, and not many customers in the store. You can get there, get your stuff, and get back home without wasting time.

Lean Cuisines were on sale. I tossed some into my shopping cart. Sometimes I buy Smart Ones. Sometimes Healthy Choice. Depends on what’s on sale.

You cannot beat these delicious frozen dinner brands. They’re low in fat and calories, high in protein, and easy to make. Takes less than five minutes to microwave one. Takes no time to clean up when you’re done. You just throw away the food tray.

Scott Rapid-Dissolving toilet paper is specially made for RVs. It dissolves rapidly, as the name implies. Which means it will not destroy the black tank in your RV. I picked up a pack and put it in my shopping cart.

In the dairy aisle I got some coffee creamers and Greek yogurts. In the fruit aisle I got some grapes and apples. In the candy aisle I looked but did not touch.

The cashier eyed me as I placed my items on the conveyer belt.

“Sugar,” she said, “ain you goan eat anything tastes good?”

“This stuff tastes good.”

“No it doan. You needs some real food.”

“Like?”

“Burgers, fried chicken, pizza.”

“That’s real food, huh?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’ll pick some up on my next visit.”

“Mm-hmm.”