Cross Hairs (7 page)

He glanced back at Kelly, who was preparing to leave as well. At least the day wasn’t a total waste. Spending it with her and all her spunk made everything else palatable.

Cal broke the silence.

“Ready to do it again tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Today was fun, wasn’t it? But I don’t see how tomorrow could be any more interesting than today.”

Cal then noticed Kelly sliding a small piece of paper with a note scrawled on it.

“Call my cell when you get in your car.”

Cal slid the note off her desk and into his pocket.
Maybe I won’t be making some extra phone calls tonight.

The two walked in silence through the alley and into the employee parking lot located behind
The Register
’s office building.

Cal threw his briefcase on the passenger side floorboard and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Kelly’s number.

“OK, so we know some crazy stuff is going on and Guy is acting weird, right?” Kelly began.

“Yeah, so?”

“Well, get this. I went to the break room to buy a soda and I saw the door to the outside was cracked. I went over to shut it when I heard Guy talking on his cell phone in a hushed voice.”

“What did he say?”

“I didn’t catch the whole thing, but I did hear him say, ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got those two under control.’”

“You think he was talking about us?”

“Who else would he be talking about?”

“It could be two of
anything
that he has under control.”

“Yeah, but saying that
and
talking in a hushed tone so no one could hear him? Plus he was on his personal cell phone standing outside. It was not typical behavior for Guy.”

“That might explain why he’s been acting the way he has toward us. He certainly seems hell-bent on helping us avoid proper treatment of this story.”

“Well, something is up and I don’t like it. I’m starting to get a strange feeling about this whole thing, like we’re rattling the closet door to some big skeletons. And I feel uneasy about what might happen to us.”

“Seriously? Are you scared, Kelly?”

“A little, maybe. I sure would like to have a drink and throw darts at The Mill about right now. You up for joining me?”

Whoa! Is Kelly asking me out on a date? It sure sounds like it.

“Uh, sure. I want to run home and change first and then I’ll meet you there in say, 30 minutes?”

“Sounds like a date.”

Sounds like a date, indeed!
Cal thought.

Cal and Kelly headed home in opposite directions to prepare for a rare post-work rendezvous. That is if Cal meeting Kelly once at the gas station McDonald’s near the I-84 exit one night counted as a rendezvous. Otherwise, it was a first.

The F-250 followed Cal.

CHAPTER 18

AS DUSK BEGAN TO
settle on the Idaho farm country, Cal turned on his headlights. He was lost in thought over the day’s events and the new possibilities for the night. Then he remembered something he had hoped to extract from his busy brain before the evening was over.

Earlier in the afternoon, Cal had received a call from Josh. But with all that was going on, Cal didn’t really have time to hear about how Josh’s fantasy league baseball team was crushing his. Josh seemed to win their league almost every year, while Cal’s team was mathematically eliminated by mid-June. He called his team “Cal’s Cubs.”

Josh’s message oddly enough wasn’t a gloating message regarding fantasy sports, but instead contained details regarding his flight information on Friday. Cal saved the message. He didn’t feel like testing his multi-tasking skills: typing on his iPhone while driving.

He put the phone down and began to mentally catalog the scant information he had gathered throughout the day. He entered a winding mile stretch of road about two miles from his apartment. That’s when he felt the first collision.

Bam!

Cal’s car lurched forward. So did Cal.

“What the—”

Cal turned around again to see a truck’s headlights roaring toward the back of his car. The truck slammed his car again and he lurched forward, bracing for the next hit.

Bam!

Chrome bumper met flimsy metal. This time Cal’s car suffered a bigger blow. His Civic began spinning across the road. Cal was helpless. The steering wheel. The brakes. Nothing was his friend at the moment.

The car spun around five times before slowing down and straightening out—just in time to go careening down a shallow embankment and into a patch of woods by the Snake River.

Rock. Tree. Boulder. Tree. Shallow stream. Tree. Rock. Rock. Tree. Bushes.

Cal’s car was playing chicken with the woods—and winning. No amount of strength exerted on the steering wheel would have made a difference at this point anyway. The wheels bounced the car as it gained speed.

Instead of wondering why someone would do this to him, Cal spent most of his time worrying about when his car might come to a stop. And his condition – and the car’s – once it did.

Then he didn’t have to wonder.

Thud!

Cal’s car came to a complete stop. One seemingly unstoppable object met an unforgiving one. Cal’s car was on the losing end.

Steam hissed from the front of his Civic. Mangled metal took the place of a functioning engine. Wedged between two pine trees, the car was stuck. The headlights served as obscure beacons in the dense woods.

Cal’s head rested motionless on the airbag. The rest of his body didn’t move either.

CHAPTER 19

NATHAN GOLD SHIFTED IN
his leather reading chair. The dark oak walls with a custom-built bookcase encircled his study. They contained an extensive collection of rare books and literary masterpieces, all well worn. It was clear Gold was more interested in creating a suitable home for literature than he was for demonstrating opulence in his Tudor-style mansion. Extravagant pleasures could be found elsewhere in the house.

But tonight he wasn’t thinking about his books—he was thinking about
his
town. Like the safe haven he constructed for each shelved piece of art in his library, Statenville had been effectively cocooned through careful planning. And Gold enjoyed it. Just like he enjoyed reading John Milton’s
Paradise Lost
. But tonight his thoughts were distant, his gaze vacant.

His own paradise was teetering on vanishing at the hands of a pesky reporter bent on pulling back Oz’s curtain. Only he didn’t know he was in Oz. Gold knew that Cal didn’t see Statenville as a final resting place for his career. Outsiders working at
The Register
rarely did. Statenville was a blinking yellow light along a two-lane road to somewhere else. It was a cup of coffee.

But as the day’s events unfolded, Gold grew leery of a foreigner mucking about in a family matter. Gold’s son had died—and he was struggling to suppress the grief he felt. He had to. There was more at stake than the personal embarrassment of his son overdosing on drugs and the paper etching it into town lore on microfilm.
Statenville
was at stake.

Cal had no idea what he was doing, but it made no difference to Gold. As the mayor of Statenville, Gold prided himself on his moral and ethical conduct. But it was easy to justify a temporary restraining order on such morals and ethics when your way of life is being threatened. Gold knew it would be a tough decision to make, but it was for the good of the whole. At least that’s what he told himself.

He took a long pull on his glass of scotch. He pondered his next move.

His phone rang and a voice on the other end gave him the news: “Cal’s gone.”

“What? Where is he? What about the girl?”

“His car veered off the road and wrecked near the river, but he was nowhere to be found. The girl’s still waiting for him at The Mill, but she’s lost without him. She still thinks that one day she might run
The Register
. She’ll not want to jeopardize that pipe dream, so don’t worry about her.”

“Well, find him. And when you do, make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. Who knows where is he, now that we can’t track him.”

Gold hung up his phone. Grieving in peace would have to wait.

CHAPTER 20

KELLY FINISHED TROUNCING HER
third darts opponent at The Mill. Beating drunk farm boys who thought they had a chance with her amused Kelly. She even dated a few of the regulars in high school, back when she thought being a farmer’s wife was her destiny. She wasn’t completely opposed to the idea, but working for the student paper at Arizona State gave her a taste of real journalism—one that couldn’t be quenched by whipping up lunchtime feasts, changing little ones’ diapers, and serving on the Statenville PTA. Of course, working for
The Register
wouldn’t guarantee her more than a skimpy serving of real journalism either, but she thought it could be palatable, especially if she were in charge.

Kelly picked up her phone to call Cal.
Where is he? Surely he would have called me if something came up.

Kelly accessed his number on the screen—and hesitated. She had already called him three times and left messages. But a
fourth
? That might be pushing it. He was only about an hour late. No need to seem desperate, especially for a guy she wasn’t completely sure she liked romantically. Although the exciting day’s events had changed that. Adventure proved to be a powerful elixir for her cold feet.

A basket of fries, two more dart annihilations and 45 minutes later, Kelly decided Cal wasn’t coming.

A thought crept into her mind. It was not worth mulling over, but Kelly couldn’t make it go away.

What if someone doesn’t want Cal to write that story? What if someone did something to him?

Her efforts to dismiss such depressing thoughts only served to stir her angst. She grabbed her purse and coat. She needed to put these hair-brained ideas to rest.

She left the bar without a word or a glance over her shoulder. This wasn’t about a sudden crush on Cal. This was about her co-worker who was being threatened for doing his job.

Paranoia settled over her like a thick fog. She began scanning the parking lot for any suspicious activity or likely suspects in dark cars awaiting a certain patron. She spotted one man who looked out of place in Statenville. A new black Chevy Blazer in Statenville? He might as well have painted the car fire engine red. This was Ford country, save a few granola types who preferred Subarus. But she quickly dismissed him as her guy. He was looking down at his phone and talking to someone as he waved his free hand around. In the 10 seconds she watched him as she walked to her car, he never once looked up.

Nevertheless, Kelly quickened her pace. She fumbled for her keys as she walked, hoping to avert a prolonged mining expedition in her purse. The less vulnerable she was before gaining entrance to her car, the better.

Success.

She unlocked the door with the click of a button on her fob and slid behind the wheel. She locked the doors and turned the ignition. Before turning on her headlights, Kelly scanned one final time around the parking lot and concluded she was safe. She pulled onto the road and headed for Cal’s house, using the same route he would have taken to get there.

Kelly eased down the road, searching the roadside for any sign of Cal or his Civic.

Why didn’t he call me?

One jalopy and a flat tire sidelined two vehicles along the route Kelly took. No sign of Cal.

She drove another five minutes before entering a winding stretch of road near Cal’s apartment.

That’s where she saw the flashing lights. Red and blue squad car lights flickered in the cool August air. A squad car was on the shoulder of the road ahead. It flanked an A-1 Towing Service truck, which made its presence known with a pair of flashing yellow lights.

Kelly didn’t want to presume she knew Cal was the reason for the roadside gathering, but she couldn’t stop her mind from racing through all the doomsday scenarios.
Maybe Cal crashed. Maybe someone killed him. Maybe there’s nothing to see.

She sped up and pulled behind the sheriff’s deputy car. It belonged to Dawkins. She closed her eyes and moaned.
Not Dawkins! Not now!

Dawkins was talking with the tow truck driver when her headlights signaled her arrival. He turned toward her and shielded his eyes from her car lights. The deputy approched Kelly’s car as she moved to meet him half way.

“What’s going on here?” she asked nervously.

“Well, I thought maybe
you
could tell
us
something.”

“What do you mean?”

“Mercer was off duty tonight but he called me about a car that he noticed had spun off the road. He said it was all smashed up against a tree, so I came down here to check it out. It’s Cal’s.”

Kelly tried to ignore her emotions and get into her reporter mindset. There were questions. Lots of them. And she needed answers now.

“Have you been down there?” Kelly asked, motioning toward the ravine below.

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“Is Cal hurt? Injured? Where is he?”

“When I went down there, I didn’t see anyone.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t see anyone?”

“I mean, it’s obviously a one-car accident. It looks like the impact with a tree crumpled the hood up pretty good. But nobody saw it happen. At least, there were no citizen reports of a driver veering off the road and into the woods.”

“So, he’s just gone?”

“Yep, as far as I can tell.”

“Do you think he’s still alive?”

Dawkins paused as if he was unsure of what to say, unsure of telling her the truth.

“There’s no way to know for sure. It’s hard to imagine him just getting out of that car, wrecked the way that it is, and just walking around. But we’ll keep looking.”

“Well, please call me on my cell if you find him.”

Kelly handed him her business card and began walking back to her car. She thought she might be able to make Dawkins crack. A little flirtatious behavior never hurt with law enforcement types when it came to getting what she wanted. But she left feeling like she didn’t get what she needed out of him.