Wisdom Spring (24 page)

“What are your thoughts?” I asked.

“I have good feelings about this one. I’d love to talk to the owner of that website to get some firsthand opinions, but also to warn him to take down the site just in case Hillstrom’s people run across it. His life could be in danger.”

She searched his main website until she uncovered an address to go with his name, Carl Jenkins.

“He’s in Fairbanks, which is quite a ways from here,” she said. “How about we call him?”

“Let me do it,” I said. “We don’t know if the powers in charge have your voice programmed into their computers and can do a voice match. We could be taking all of these precautions for nothing, but better safe than sorry.”

We found his number online and I dialed from my cell phone. I didn’t want Scott’s number to appear. I looked at the clock. Six o’clock and Scott still wasn’t back. Should I be worried?

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Carl Jenkins?”

“It is.”

“My name is Harry Coleman. I wonder if you could help me. I’m calling from Missouri. My wife and I have become fascinated with the lore of Alaska and have been researching ghost towns and abandoned mines. We ran across your website about Wisdom Spring and were wondering if we could ask you a few questions.”

“Sure, I’d be happy to answer any questions.”

“Thank you so much. It was hard finding information on Wisdom Spring. Most other towns have a link in Wikipedia, but not this one.” I’d found from my sales days that the secret to effective lying—or exaggerating—is to stay as close to the truth as possible.

“That is strange. I noticed it myself. It had a link until just a couple of years ago, then it disappeared. I even wrote an entry and sent it in. It appeared, then was gone a few days later. Must be a glitch in the system.”

“Have you ever visited the town?” I asked.

“Three times. Once when I was ten. That would’ve been 1962. Again in the late ‘70s, around ‘78, I’d guess. Then again a couple of years ago.”

“Sounds like you liked the place.”

“Well, my grandfather was a miner there, and after the mine closed in ‘63, he came to live with us. He died in ‘75. You know how sometimes you just want to go back to your roots? That’s why I went back in ‘78. I wanted to see how the town compared to my memory of it, what buildings were still there, that kind of thing.”

“Was it how you remembered it?”

He hesitated. “Well, kind of. I mean, most of the buildings were still there just how I remembered them. The houses that were being lived in—probably about half—had been fixed up nicely, as had some of the businesses. There were even a couple of newer buildings. Any building that wasn’t being used, however, was falling apart. So it was a strange combination of well-kept and dilapidated.”

“Was the mine up and running?”

“I can’t tell you that. I took the road down to the mine and about halfway there the way was blocked with a sign that said ‘No Trespassing’. But I could see some trucks and heavy equipment down the road, so they were doing something. I don’t know if it was up and running.”

“What were the people like?” This, to me, was one of the crucial questions, and might tell us something about Hillstrom.

“Well,” he kind of dragged the word out. “I didn’t put it in my website, but here’s what I think. I think the town was bought by one of those cults.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Kids. The place was full of kids. When my grandfather lived there, it was a mining town. Obviously some of the miners had kids, but it was a normal number for that kind of town. But when I went back, it seemed there were two kids to every adult. Maybe three. One of the new buildings looked like a school, although it didn’t have a name on it like most schools. I can’t say anyone was particularly unfriendly to me, but they certainly weren’t welcoming me with open arms. It was kind of … spooky … I guess. I didn’t stay long. Drove around a bit. Stopped in the store, then headed out disappointed that it didn’t bring back the memories I’d hoped for.”

“And what about the last time?”

“That wasn’t much of a visit. I’d seen the census listing a population of zero and thought I’d check it out. I like ghost towns too, and in this case, especially because I had known it before it became a ghost town. Anyway, I got there and started driving through the streets when a guy came out of a building and flagged me down. He told me that it was private property and asked me to leave. He was pleasant about it, but I had an eerie feeling he wasn’t alone. There was something dangerous about him, so I skedaddled.”

“Did you get to see the mine?”

“No, I didn’t get that far. I’m sorry to say that I’m going to have to go. My wife just put dinner on the table.”

“Well, Mr. Jenkins, I really appreciate your help.” I looked at Jess, who had been close enough to hear much of what he was saying. She nodded her head, as if to say,
tell him
. “Mr. Jenkins, I know you have to leave, but if I could have just one more minute. This is kind of important.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Everything you just told me confirms things we had suspected. You’re probably not going to believe me, and that’s okay, as long as I can convince you of one thing. For the time being, I think you should take down your site on Wisdom Spring.”

“And why would that be?” His voice had taken on a suspicious tone.

“My name isn’t really Harry Coleman, and I’m not calling from Missouri. I’m not married, but I am traveling with a friend. I say traveling, but it’s really running. She uncovered a massive plot against this country by accident, and now a number of people have died as a result of her discovery.”

“What are you…”

“Please hear me out. I know it sounds fantastic, and it would to me too. But we are living it and it’s real. The reason I asked you about Wisdom Spring is because it plays a part in all this. We don’t yet know what part, but that’s what we have to find out. Your information was crucial, and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. The reason the Wikipedia entry on the town disappeared is because they made it disappear. They can and have made a lot of things … and people … disappear. All we can figure is that they haven’t come upon your site yet, because it was a little harder to find. All I’m asking is that you take down your site for now, for your own good. If they discover it, they will take it down, and probably you with it because it’s obvious that you know too much about the town. Please Mr. Jenkins. You’ll know when to put it back up. If we live through this, we’re bringing them down and you’ll hear about it on the news. If you never hear about it, it means they got to us first. I’m not being melodramatic. Please take it down.”

I hung up before he could say anything more.

Chapter 27

Scott showed up with Joe an hour later. They both looked exhausted and Joe looked terrible. Jess and I made them some dinner and we all sat down while they ate and took turns relating the events at Piney lake. At first they seemed to be glossing over some of the details, probably for Jess’s sake, but when Jess began asking questions, they gave a full accounting. I had a feeling, however, that there was an aspect to the story they were still holding back on, but I let it slide.

When they finished, Jess said, “Your story isn’t as disturbing to me as you may have thought it would be. Nothing about it bothers me. I seem to have lost some of my innocence over the past few weeks. What does bother me is getting all of you involved. I can’t have any more deaths on my conscience.”

“Jess,” I said, “you’ve got to keep the thought in your head that it’s not you. You didn’t get any of us involved. Hillstrom and his minions did. Also, your father wouldn’t have sent you in this direction unless he thought we could help.”

“Father?” asked Joe.

“Right,” I said. “There’s a whole aspect to this that we haven’t told you.”

Between us, Jess and I proceeded to tell Joe about the mystical part of the whole story. When we were done, he just looked at us.

“Look,” he finally said. “I’m just a simple PI. I work with facts. I follow the clues until I solve the mystery. The only way a dead person can lead me in the right direction is if there is evidence left behind on his body. Dead is dead. I’m sorry Jess, I don’t mean to make you upset.”

Joe saw Jess’s face in her hands and assumed she was crying about her father, or about Joe’s disbelief. In reality, she was laughing. When she stopped, she looked up at Joe and said, “I’m fine with that. Trust me, I didn’t believe it either, and I don’t need you to believe it. That’s okay.”

“Why were you laughing?” he asked.

“Because dead isn’t dead. At least, it might not be.”

Joe cocked his head, obviously confused. “You’ve lost me.”

Jess looked at me to take over.

“Mill Colson might still be alive,” I said simply. I told him the story of the phone call. Joe’s mouth hung open. “Now the question is,” I continued, “did he have my phone number?”

“He did,” answered Joe, a little shell-shocked. “I know I told you that I would be the only one with your number, but Mill insisted. He said that a lawyer needed to be able to contact his client at a moment’s notice. He promised that he would memorize the number and not write it down anywhere.”

“Well, we can’t do any more about it until—or if—he calls again. For now, we have a lot to catch you up on. Even you, Scott. A lot has happened.”

They insisted they were awake enough to hear it all that night, so we filled Joe in on our journeys since we last talked, and then told them both the progress we had made that day. Joe, meanwhile, related the details of his Rochester encounter. After that, we all went to bed exhausted.

My cell phone rang at 2:30. Jess heard it first and shook me from my coma. We had made a deal that she wouldn’t answer it. As long as I was still anonymous, it was safer for her not to talk, and therefore connect me to her.

I answered it on the fifth ring, just before it would bounce to voicemail.

“Hello.” It was a statement, not a question, the best I could muster at that time of the morning.

“Where did we first meet?” Mill’s voice came across much stronger than it had the night before. I woke up quickly.

“Las Vegas.”

“Specifically.”

“Circus Circus.”

“Okay. I’m satisfied.”

“Not okay,” I said. “My turn. Where in Circus Circus?” He was checking not only if he had the right person, but if I was free and safe. If I gave the wrong answer, he’d know I’d been captured. But it could work in reverse. He might actually be in Hillstrom’s hands, so I needed him to answer correctly.

“In one of the ballrooms. I was giving a talk and pushing my book. You stood in line.”

“How did I tell you about our mutual friend?”

“You gave me a note.”

“Okay. Now I’m satisfied.” I lost the suspicious tone. “Where are you? What happened?”

“I’m safe. I’m hiding out at a friend’s house. I was having a, shall we say rendezvous, and was going to miss my flight. I called Sean, my personal aide, to let him know. We had other people who had to get to New York, so I told them to go without me and I’d catch up.”

“Where did the eighth body come from?”

“I’m sick about that. I’m sick about the whole thing. It was the boyfriend of one of my secretaries. When I called to say I wouldn’t make it, Sean asked me if this guy could take my place on the plane, so I said sure. Now he’s dead. Now they’re all dead. All because of Hillstrom.”

“You think he was behind it?”

“Absolutely! I had a call earlier in the day telling me to drop Jess as a client or I was a dead man. The caller didn’t say who he represented, obviously, but who else could it be? I told him to go fuck himself and hung up. That same night my plane goes down.”

“Does anyone else know you’re alive?” I asked.

“The friend I’m staying with and my lawyer. My lawyer is going to stall things as long as he can regarding my estate and my firm. I tried to call Joe, but someone else answered. I don’t know if they got to him.”

“They almost did, and he’s a little worse for wear, but he’s okay. We just picked him up today. He’s with us.”

“Thank God. I’m not going to ask you where you are, but I assume you are safe.”

“We are. We have another person working with us—totally trustworthy—and between us, we are actually making progress. We’ve discovered some of Hillstrom’s history that you’ll never read anywhere, and we’ve just discovered a clue that may lead us to some of the big answers.”

“That’s great. I wish I could be of help, but at the moment I’m hiding for my life. I feel ashamed to be hiding, but I don’t know what else to do.”

“Nothing. There may come a time when we will need your legal expertise, and hopefully you’ll be able to come out of hiding, but not yet. When we’re ready, we’ll let you know. I need a phone number for you.”

He gave it and I told him I’d pass everything on to Joe. After we hung up, I filled Jess in on anything she wasn’t able to hear and then we went back to bed. There was really nothing for us to discuss, and sleep was more important.

The next morning at breakfast Scott and Joe listened intently as we related Mill’s call.

“I’m happy he’s alive,” said Joe. “He can be arrogant when he wants to be, blustery sometimes, and a showman all of the time, but deep down he has a really good heart. He was good to his employees and genuinely cared about them. This must be eating at him something fierce. I can guarantee that when we need him to do something about Hillstrom from his end, there will be no hesitation—no matter what danger he’s in.”

“So what’s our next step?” asked Scott.

“Clyde!” blurted out Jess.

We all responded with some form of “huh?”

Jess had an embarrassed smile. “Sorry, that was my dad.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Joe looking a little uncomfortable.

“I think he wants me to go see Clyde again.”

“To what purpose?” I asked.

“I think now that we know a little bit more about the town, it might be good to question Clyde about things Ben might have said.”

“Do you think Hillst … Ben … would have shared that much information with him?” asked Joe.