Wisdom Spring (20 page)

“Elmer said Ben had a soft spot for Clyde,” said Scott. “Maybe because Clyde was slow, Ben spared him.”

“I wonder how communicative Clyde is. Should we try to see him?” I asked.

“Can’t hurt,” answered Scott. “I’ll ask Elmer where he is. Meanwhile, I suggest we knock off for the rest of the day. Let me show you some of my property.”

I looked at Jess. The diversion would do us good. She nodded.

“Before we go, I should check my phone,” I said. I turned it on and discovered a voicemail waiting for me. I looked at Jess and Scott, put the phone on speaker, and played the message.

“You know who this is. I’m in a tough spot. You heard about the plane going down, I’m sure. Same time as that, they got me. I escaped because I was dealing with morons, but I have no place to go. They are looking for me and I’m down to just a few dollars. I can’t go home and I can’t access my accounts without them finding me. If you’re open to it, I think it’s time we work together. But I don’t know how I can get to wherever you are. I know you’re suspicious, but call me and I’ll try to convince you that I’m alone. Please call me. I just hope you two are okay.

He left his number and hung up. I looked at the time. He had left it three hours earlier.

“What do you think?” I asked.

“I don’t know the guy,” said Scott, “but that sounded genuine to me. I have a little cash, I could probably wire him. We could have him come to Alaska, someplace remote, then I could pick him up in my plane. That would give me time to check him out.”

“That works for me,” I said. “How about you?” I looked at Jess.

“I agree with Scott. It sounded genuine.”

“Let’s do it then.” I turned to Scott. “You don’t have to worry about the money. There’s something I haven’t told you.” I went into the bedroom and emerged with my briefcase full of cash. I thought Scott’s eyes would fall out. I told him about my safe deposit box.

“Well, that says a lot, doesn’t it,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Obviously, consciously or subconsciously you had doubts about your marriage. No one in a happy marriage has this much cash hidden away from his spouse. I’d say the only thing holding you two together was Karen. I knew all along that Victoria was no good for you. You never seemed like a couple. Now this one,” he pointed to Jess, “she’s a keeper.”

Jess actually blushed.

“You have a connection, a communication that you and Victoria never had, and never would have.”

I didn’t know what to say. Once again Scott nailed it.

I cleared my throat. “I guess I should call Joe.”

We agreed on a plan and I dialed Joe’s number. He answered on the fourth ring.

“You’re okay,” he began.

“We are,” I responded. All this secrecy of not using names and saying as little as possible would have been almost comical if it wasn’t so dangerous for us all. “You hurt?”

“Nothing that won’t heal.”

“Not that I don’t believe that you’re alone, but just as some proof, where did we first meet?” Before calling Joe, we had decided to ask him that question. If he wasn’t alone, he could lie and we could decide where to go from there. I felt confident that Joe wouldn’t lead us in the wrong direction.

“No, that’s smart. Utah State University parking lot.”

“So what happened? Just to let you know, I have this on speaker and my friend is with me.” Despite knowing it was safe, I felt it was still better not to use names. Again, I didn’t trust modern technology in the wrong hands. “Also, there is a third party with us who I trust with my life, and you can too. You’ll meet him soon enough.”

“Well, it’s not like I have any choice at this point. I welcome all the help I can get.” He proceeded to give us what I assumed to be an abbreviated version of all that had happened to him. “So, here I am,” he finished, “in a fair amount of pain, stuck in a seedy motel in Rochester, New York, with thirteen dollars to my name.”

“You were right in your message. It’s time we get together. Is there a Western Union counter around there someplace where I could wire you some money?”

“Yeah, I scouted that out this morning on the off chance that you would call back and could help.”

“Would two thousand cover things for now?”

“It would. I’m sorry to ask this of you.”

“Not a problem. Give me the location and I’ll get it off to you today.”

“Okay.” He provided me with the details, then said, “I have a fake name and identification that no one knows about—Terry Landers. Send it to that.”

“Fine.” I wrote it down. “Do you have a passport under that name?”

“Uh, no. Do I need one to get to you?”

“Maybe, maybe not.” I took a breath. I was about to narrow down our position, but it couldn’t be helped. I just had to hope no one was listening. “We’re in Alaska. Under your new identity I suppose you could take a commercial flight, but they might be watching for you.”

“No, I’m not going to do that. I know they are watching. Luckily, I’ve been doing this a long time. I’ve got contacts who can get me over the border on both ends for a little cash. I might need another couple of thousand if you can spare it.”

“No problem. Just get into Alaska as quietly as you can. Wherever you end up, preferably some out of the way little place, give me a call and we’ll get you.”

“I really appreciate this. I’ll call you when I get there.” He hung up.

My hands were shaking. This covert ops stuff was foreign to me. I was getting better at it, but it was still going to take a while.” I knew that Scott, on the other hand, was thriving on it.

“Let’s go find the Western Union office here, then take our walk,” said Scott. “I think you guys need it.

He was right. When we got back from town, we headed out into the woods.

“Should we bring our guns?” I asked before we left. “Just in case we run into a bear?”

“You can,” he said. “We won’t run into one, and they are scared of Slob, but I often bring a rifle just in case. Your gun,” he said, pointing to my Sig .40, “will just make the bear mad. Yours,” he picked up Jess’s .380 and made a face, “might tickle him. However, it’s not the bears I’m worried about, but the people following you. From this point on, don’t go anywhere unarmed.”

Funny, he was my little brother, but he didn’t seem that way now. There was a quiet confidence in him that created an aura of a protector, our protector. I just hoped I hadn’t signed his death warrant by coming up there.

We spent the afternoon tromping through the woods, occasionally reaching a quiet meadow that allowed us to see far beyond the coast. Max took up his usual post next to Scott, and Slob joined us within minutes of leaving the house. He would run up ahead, scouting the way, then gallop back expecting to be thrown a stick.

Jess and I walked hand in hand. I thought a lot about what Scott had said about Karen being the only bond between Victoria and me. I thought about Karen every day. Despite all Jess and I had been through, Karen was still close by, during every waking minute. She would never be anything but.

The time spent exploring Scott’s property was like a wonderful drug that made us forget everything else and appreciate the Shangri-La in which we now found ourselves. We were learning to appreciate each moment’s respite from the horror we had entered. Those moments were few and far between, but when they presented themselves we grabbed them and held on as long as we could. This was one of them and we were reluctant for it to end. Luckily, it was the time of year when the sun only went down for a few hours a night, and even then only to resemble dusk. So when we got back from our walk, we sat around a fire pit Scott had built, while he brought out steaks to grill. When we finally went in, it was after midnight.

For now we were able to forget. Tomorrow we knew, it would all come back.

Chapter 22

Clyde Merriman was the happiest resident of the Kenai Nursing Home, or so the nursing staff said. My experience with nursing homes told me that he was probably the only happy resident. He had entered the facility when he was seventy-five, fifteen years earlier, courtesy of the state of Alaska, after he had been found for the third time sleeping outside in February. Too old for an institution, the nursing home seemed the best choice.

Everybody loved Clyde, and at ninety, his mental acuity was as good as it was when he was sixty. Which meant that he was just as slow now as he was then.

“Clyde, you have visitors,” the nurse announced, ushering us in. I got the feeling that while he was well-liked in the home, visits from outside were rare.

“Hey, who are you?” he asked with a big wide grin. He was sitting in a comfortable chair with the TV on. “You’re visiting Clyde? People don’t come to see Clyde.” He pointed to Jess. “You. You can visit. You’re pretty.”

“Thank you, Clyde,” said Jess. “You’re a handsome guy yourself.”

Clyde turned red and looked away.

It was obvious to us who should do the talking; the woman he had the crush on. Scott and I sat in uncomfortable chairs in the corner, while Jess took a seat next to Clyde.

“I’ve come to talk to you,” she said. “Is that okay? My name is Jess.”

He looked at her and made a face. “You’re not here from the state to talk to Clyde, are you? You’re too pretty to be from the state. You’re not, are you?

“Oh heavens, no. I wouldn’t work there. Yuck!”

That tickled Clyde’s funny bone. He giggled, then said, “Clyde likes you if you’re not from the state.”

Okay, that third-person talk was going to drive me crazy.

“You’re funny, Clyde. I can’t believe you don’t get a lot of visitors.”

“No, Clyde doesn’t have too many friends. All Clyde’s friends live here.”

“I bet you’ve had lots of friends in your life.”

“No. People don’t like Clyde. People are mean to him.”

“Not even one friend?”

She was good. She figured out right away that if she brought up Ben, Clyde would get suspicious, so she had to coax him to bring him up.

Clyde’s face lit up. “Clyde had a good friend once. Ben Fremont was Clyde’s friend.” A sad look came over him. “But that was a long time ago.”

“Tell me about Ben.”

“You’re not from the police are you? If you are Ben Fremont told Clyde to close his mouth and not say anything.”

“No, I’m not from the police either. I just wanted to come visit you.” She put her hand in his. He liked it.

“Ben Fremont is gone. A long time ago.”

“What happened?”

“He told Clyde not to be sad. He said that he had to go far away, but that he would come back to visit Clyde someday. He never did.”

“Why not?”

“They said that Ben Fremont died. Clyde doesn’t believe them. They said he died when Mr. Mort and Miss Sally were killed, but Clyde doesn’t think he did. He told Clyde he was going away.”

“When did he tell you that?”

“Before all the people were killed at Mr. Mort’s.”

“The night before?”

“No, before that. Ben Fremont was having breakfast with Clyde. He told Clyde not to be sad, but Clyde was.”

“Was Ben from Homer?”

“He lived here.”

“No, I mean, did he live here as a little boy too?”

“No. He was from far away.”

“Did he tell you where?”

“Yes.”

Jess changed tactics. “Was it pretty where he grew up?”

“No. It was cold.”

“Colder than Homer?”

“Yes.”

“Was he from Alaska?”

“Yes.”

“Did he ever tell you the name of the town?”

“No, but he told Clyde the town is full of ghosts.”

Clyde was losing steam, and now seemed uncomfortable, so Jess quickly changed the subject. As much as her job was to pry information out of him, she appeared to be also genuinely taken by him.

“Do you like ice cream?” she asked.

He perked up. “Clyde loves ice cream.”

They kept up like that for another ten minutes before Clyde started to get tired. Jess promised to come back and visit him.

“Not like Ben Fremont,” he said sadly.

“No, not like Ben,” she answered affectionately, then gave him a kiss on the forehead. Again he turned red and looked away.

“Bye Clyde, I’ll see you soon.”

“Goodbye Jess.”

We got out to the curb and I said to Jess, “Should I be jealous?”

“I would be, if I were you,” said Scott. “I mean, c’mon, Jon, he’s everything you’re not.”

“He is cute,” admitted Jess.

“You were good with him,” I said, turning serious.

“He’s a sweet old guy who never had a break in life,” she answered. “You heard him. People were mean to him, and it was just because he was slow. It’s just so unfair. When we make it through this, I want to keep my promise to him and visit him regularly.”

I caught the “when.” That was a good sign.

“So, do you think he was talking about a ghost town?” asked Scott.

“It makes sense,” I said. “But it’s hard to believe he was living
in
a ghost town. But if it’s true, why did it become a ghost town? I’ve got to think that’s significant somehow.”

“Did you get the feeling that Ben Fremont was a sad person?” Scott asked.

“I think there was a part of him that still retained some humanity, some sensitivity,” said Jess. “He was nice to Clyde when no one else was. I think he was also lonely. He needed someone to talk to, and I don’t think Erin was that person. He needed someone like Clyde—appreciative of the attention and friendship, but also easy to mold. I have a feeling that if Ben told him to do something or not to do it, he would obey. But I don’t think Ben was using him. I think the friendship was genuine.”

“The fact that he cared enough for Clyde to tell him not to be sad when he left confirms that, I think,” added Scott.

“So what’s next?” asked Jess.

“I think we research ghost towns in Alaska,” I said. “I’m sure there are websites devoted to them, and I doubt it would raise any electronic flags. I’m sure plenty of people look that stuff up.”

“While we’re checking on ghost towns,” I continued, “we should see what’s happening in the news. See if there is any update on the search for you or on Hillstrom’s presidential bid.”