Wisdom Spring (33 page)

“It’s a little more than four months ‘til the election,” said Hillstrom. “I’m a third-party candidate in the lead. It’s unprecedented. No, it’s amazing. And yet, because of your inept people,” he was looking at Hutch, “it may all go down the tubes. Unbelievable! Such a screw-up.”

“Fuck you,” said Hutch. “You talk to me like I’m your lackey. The only reason you’re even in this election is because of this organization. Your whole political career is a sham, and if you hadn’t let your ego get the best of you and let that researcher do background material on you for your biography—something you were supposed to let us take care of—we wouldn’t be dealing with Jessica Norton right now.”

“Enough!” shouted Mays. “Face it, you both screwed up. Hell, we’ve all screwed up. So let’s take care of her, for good!”

“So how are we going to do this?” asked Hutch.

“You,” Mays said, looking at Hillstrom, “will call her about an hour or two before her deadline. We don’t want to appear anxious. You want to get her to meet with you in person.”

“Where?” asked Hutch.

“She says she’s somewhere outside of Wisdom Spring. How about there? It’s remote, and somehow appropriate. It’s a good place for her to die.”

Chapter 41

“They’re going to want to meet,” I said over breakfast.

“Yes, they will,” said Joe. “And you know where, of course.”

“Wisdom Spring.”

“They would consider it poetic justice.”

“So we can’t meet there,” I said.

“Absolutely not. Besides, they’re not going to want to send Hillstrom. They’re going to send a goon squad. So, we’re going to have to keep them guessing until the last minute. Bring them somewhere close, then give them the final location when we’re ready for them, not vice-versa.”

Joe added, “It’s imperative that we convince Hillstrom to come himself. Unless he comes and we can get photographic—and hopefully audio—proof, they can deny any involvement on his part. I think the important thing is for you, Jess, to get Hillstrom talking on the phone. Re-establish your rapport with him, then break the news to him about the assassination. But make sure no one else is listening. You need to start sowing the seeds of doubt, because that might be just the thing that will make him want to meet with you himself.”

“When do you think they’ll call?” asked Jess.

“That one’s easy,” I said. “They’ll call right before the deadline.” Joe nodded his agreement and I continued, “They’ll want to give the appearance of not caring, but by waiting that long, it shows how desperate they really are.”

We discussed strategy for a while longer, until I could see Jess becoming overwhelmed. I suggested a walk, which she gratefully accepted. I figured there was no way they would call this early, and besides, I refused to let them dictate my actions. We grabbed our guns and headed out the door. We followed the same path Scott took us on when we had first arrived. We knew where we were going. There was a cliff overlooking the bay, with a view of the volcanos on the distant coast. We walked hand in hand, just enjoying the silence. At one point I heard a snuffling sound behind us and turned quickly, only to find Slob following along.

We reached the cliff and sat, soaking in the warmth of the sun. At that point Jess began to cry. She had to let it out, and I just held her. It was fear, it was stress, it was death. It was the realization that her parents could still be alive if her father hadn’t stumbled onto all of this. It was the knowledge that she had killed people. It didn’t matter that they deserved it, she had taken lives. As she cried, I began to think about Karen and tears began to roll down my cheeks as well. Soon, we were shaking in each other’s arms. I caught a glimpse of Slob, who was just curiously staring at us.

It was twenty minutes before Jess finally wiped her eyes. She then looked up at me with the most amazing expression of love. It sent a charge through me. Everything we’d been through washed away, leaving only the love between us. This was what it was all about. This is what everything was leading to. It didn’t matter what came next. Somehow, we had each made it through our hurt and pain. We were on the other side.

We kissed. Deep, intense kisses. We moved over to a patch of grass and Jess lay on her back while I straddled her. I took off her shirt and the morning sun bounced off her smooth skin. A chilly breeze came up and goose bumps appeared. I ran my hand over her arms and stomach, enjoying the feel of the goose bumps. A few minutes later we hungrily made love.

We got back to the house totally recharged. If Scott and Joe sensed a change, they didn’t mention it. During the walk back we hadn’t said a word, a silence that was power in of itself.

Even after arriving, we still didn’t say much. We just held on to each other. Eventually the high began to wear down and we found ourselves re-entering the life from which we had escaped. Conversation picked up and we had finally returned. But we were different. We couldn’t have been gone more than two hours, but we came back calmer, stronger, and with a dual confidence—we not only trusted each other, we had the ultimate faith in ourselves. Bring on Hillstrom.

“Joe and I have to head up to Anchorage,” said Scott. “We got a call from Mill while you were gone. He’ll be landing in a couple of hours.”

“Hopefully we’ll make it back in time for your call with Hillstrom,” added Joe, “but if not, do you feel comfortable talking to him?”

Jess nodded. “Absolutely. He won’t know what hit him.”

Scott eyed her. “What happened out there?”

“Just recharging our batteries,” I said.

“Uh huh.”

Jess and I looked at each other and smiled.

Scott and Joe left a few minutes later.

We had a late lunch, then went on the computer to finish the list of names, and to go online and get any updates on the world. There was nothing much going on. Mill Colson’s lawyer was stalling the courts in allowing them to declare Mill officially dead. Hillstrom was leading his closest challenger by ten points. Jess had dropped off the news cycle. Her fifteen minutes of fame was done for the moment.

At about four o’clock, the cell phone rang. Jess was so pumped for this she didn’t even have to take a breath. She gave it two rings so as not to appear too anxious, then answered, putting it on speaker.

“Hello.” Her voice was strong.

“Jess. Gary Hillstrom.” The voice was somewhat distant.

“Hi Gary. Take it off speakerphone.”

“Um.”

“You want to talk to me, you talk to me alone.”

“You requested the call, if I’m not mistaken.” He was smooth, like a therapist talking to a patient.

Jess hung up.

“Wow,” I said. “I’m impressed.”

“He’s such a bullshit artist,” she said.

The phone rang again five minutes later. Jess answered it.

“I’m not kidding, Gary. If I hang up on you again, the game’s over.”

“Sorry, Jess. The people with me thought it best that they hear what you said. Obviously it was a mistake.”

“You could say that.”

“It sounds like you have it on speakerphone, though.”

“I do. A friend of mine is listening in.”

“The mysterious man who came to your aid?”

“Yes. And just to let you know, I’m not taping this. With the information I have, I don’t need this call taped. I sure hope no one on your end is taping, or listening in by some other method, because some of what I’m going to say, you really don’t want them to hear. Seriously, you can tape it or you can tell them everything I say, if you want. I don’t care. But I’m thinking that you might want to keep much of this to yourself, and you’ll understand why.”

“I promise you, it’s just me. You sound well. You sound strong.” Which might have been a euphemism for, “
You don’t sound like the starry-eyed girl I used to put things over on
.”

“I am. Killing people can do that.”

“Ah, so you admit you killed your friends.” I didn’t think he was taping it, but he may have been afraid she was, despite her assurances.

“No, I’m talking about the people you’ve sent to kill me.”

“Jess, you know I’d never…”

“Oh shut up, Gary. How I was ever deceived by you, I’ll never know. You’re so slimy.”

“How dare you…”

“Yo, Gary,” she interrupted again. “This is my show, not yours. Now, would you like to know why I’m calling?”

“I would,” he calmed down. “But do you think we should meet instead?”

I had always given Hillstrom credit for having some brains, but I wasn’t so sure now. With that one comment, he had tipped his hand. He was too anxious to meet. I could imagine his handlers cringing in the background.

“I do, but we’ll come to that. Here’s the thing, I know all about you. Your real name is Ben Fremont. Actually, it’s not your real name, it’s the name they gave you when you came to Wisdom Spring.”

It was dead quiet on the other end. Then I thought I could make out Hillstrom whispering that she knew his name.

“I know all about Wisdom Spring. I actually spent a good deal of time there. Your friends tried to blow me up in the mine. They got the mine all right, which is too bad, but they missed me. I also know that you brutally murdered ten people in Homer.”

I thought I heard Hillstrom suck in his breath quickly.

“I could go on and on, Gary. But here’s the thing I really wanted to tell you, because I bet you don’t know it. And it’s up to you as to whether you want to pass this along to your handlers. Did you know that the same people who are behind your sure-win victory of the presidency are the same ones who plan to assassinate you next year?”

He didn’t say anything. She had him hooked.

“It’s all in the material we got from Wisdom Spring. It goes into it in quite a bit of detail. It seems that they like all the charisma you exude, and that is what’s going to get you elected, but they really don’t think you’ll be the kind of president they need. So, once they get you in office, they plan to replace you—to ‘exchange’ you, you might say—with your vice president, who, as I’m sure you know, grew up in Wisdom Spring, as well. You see, they think he’s really smart. You? Not so much. Tell me to go to hell if you understand what I’m saying.”

A pause, then, “Go to hell.”

“Good. So now you know why we want to meet with you and not with an army of your hit men. It might be the only way you come out of this whole thing alive. Keep that in mind when we set up a meeting place.”

“Since you know so much about Wisdom Spring, how about there?” It was obviously what he was supposed to say, but he didn’t say it with much conviction, as if he was trying to think about the merits of meeting with her alone.

“A little too much of a hick town for me. No, here’s how we’ll work it. You fly into Anchorage the day after tomorrow at noon and give me a call. I’ll tell you where we’ll meet.”

“But I have a rally that day.”

“You have a rally every day. Cancel it. If you don’t show up, the media gets it all. There’s enough proof in here to get you arrested, but even if you somehow were able to talk your way out of it, your campaign would be dead. But better your campaign than you. You meet with us, you might just live through this. That’s the offer, Gary. Your choice.”

Chapter 42

Hillstrom, ever the optimist, was desperately trying to find a way out. Was the information about his impending assassination real, or was she just using a scare tactic to get him to meet? And if he did meet, was it the same as admitting guilt? Twenty-four hours ago he was at the top of the world. How could it have all changed so quickly?

“You’re not going,” said Mays.

“I think I need to,” answered Hillstrom. “If I don’t show up, they’ll turn it all over to the media.”

“They’ll be dead,” said Hutch. “We’ll send an army in and blow them away. They won’t know what hit them. You don’t need to go up.”

“They’ll expect your people,” said Hillstrom. “Jess practically said as much. And what if your army doesn’t get there right away? Or what if they disable them?”

“Yeah, right,” answered Hutch.

“I suppose we could let him do it,” said Mays. “Don’t forget, we’ll have a second wave coming just in case. They won’t be expecting that. She knows him. He might learn things from her that we should know.”

“But what if it’s a ruse?” asked Hutch. “What if they have the media waiting for us? Just showing up admits guilt.”

“They won’t,” responded Mays. “If they contact the media, I’ll know it within minutes. Then we use it to our advantage somehow.”

“Why are you so anxious to meet her?” asked Hutch.

Hillstrom knew this question was coming. They had no idea what Jess said to him about the assassination. It had to sound plausible.

“It all started for me in Alaska. It seems appropriate that this part of it ends there. We don’t know how this is going to go down.” He looked at Hutch. “I know you have a lot of faith in your men, but you’ve got to admit, they don’t have a great success rate of late.” Hutch just glared at him. “If something goes wrong, she’ll be expecting me. We don’t know yet where we’re supposed to meet. If she doesn’t see me, they’ll split and we’ll have lost our chance. If I have to go in first, I can talk to her. As Corbin said, she knows me. We had a good relationship. She trusted me. Okay, she doesn’t now, but I think I can keep her occupied until your second force arrives. I can spin a good story that I didn’t know most of what was going on and will offer to form an alliance with her to get to the bottom of it. That’ll keep her attention long enough for me to learn what she knows.”

“She’ll believe that shit?” asked Hutch.

“Why was I put here to begin with? Because I have a gift. I know how to work people. Look at my track record. Hell,” he said, turning to Mays, “you people saw that gift when I was a kid.”

“Okay, we’ll do it,” said Mays. “But Hutch will be with you.” Hillstrom cringed inside. “And we have to know exactly where we’re going ahead of time. You have to insist on that. Otherwise you’re not going to be there.”

*****

Hillstrom was lying in bed, unable to sleep. He could see the beginnings of dawn through the crack in the curtain. All of the Wisdom Spring talk had brought him back to a time he had chosen to forget. For so long it had been wiped from the forefront of his mind. Even the Homer experience was just a distant memory. But now, it had all come roaring back. Here he was, in the middle of summer in Florida, and he found himself shivering. All of his memories of Wisdom Spring were cold ones. Unhappy ones. He had hated his life there, and yet, it was the only life he had known. He had only the vaguest of memories of the boy’s camp in Nevada.