Curious Minds (17 page)

“Trip?” Riley asked.

“We're taking Aunt Myra home to Harrisonburg,” Emerson said.

“L
et me get this straight,” Werner said to Rollo. “You knew where they were. You had them cornered. You went in with an entire unit. And you came out with nothing.”

It was late at night and Werner and Rollo were standing on a shadowed, deserted street corner. Both men were armed, Rollo with a surgical knife, Werner with a semiautomatic that was neatly concealed by the line of his suit jacket.

“They weren't alone,” Rollo said.

“I've already been briefed on your failure. They had a sixty-five-year-old woman helping them. You can't be expected to overcome odds like that.”

Rollo's eyes were popped out even more than usual. Freakish glistening white orbs in his pale face.

“I'll get them,” Rollo said. “You don't have to worry.”

“You're the one who should be worrying,” Werner said. “We're very near the completion of all our plans. If you fail me again and put the mission in jeopardy, I'll have you gutted and filleted like a fish. I'll do it myself and I'll use your personal knife.”

L
arry and Myra chatted in the front seat. Their words were a monotone hum to Riley. Emerson was in his zone. His body was warm and masculine next to hers. She suspected his mind was on a distant astral plane. It was black beyond the windows. The road in front of them was illuminated only by the Cadillac's headlights. Endless strips of white hypnotically coming at them. The tedium of the drive was a narcotic, and Riley drifted into sleep, waking when the car slowed for a turn or stoplight, and then drifting off again when the momentum returned.

She surfaced from her dreamless drifting and realized the car had stopped. She sat up and squinted through the windshield at a big black chunk of something and blazing lights. Her head cleared and she recognized Vernon's RV.

“This is Harrisonburg?” Riley asked.

“I don't exactly live
in
Harrisonburg,” Myra said. “I mostly live
close
to Harrisonburg. This here's Blue Ridge country.”

Riley got out of the car and looked up. There were a lot of stars in the sky. More than she'd seen in a long time. Vernon's RV was parked just past some railroad tracks. A Blake Shelton song was playing somewhere inside the RV and spilling out the open door.

Vernon strolled over, coffee cup in his hand, and grinned down at Riley. “We got the RV all tuned up for you and it's ready to go.”

“Go?” Riley said. “In an RV?”

“That's so you get to your destination in style and comfort,” Vernon said. “And it's real secretive. You don't have to stop at a motel and give out your name. We even got it loaded up with food.”

Riley had two thoughts. The first was that Vernon's grin was deadly good. And the second was that she had no clue where they were going. She was in whatever this was up to her armpits, and she wasn't being included in the decision-making process. Not acceptable.

“We need a word,” Riley said to Emerson.

“Yes?”

“In private.”

“In my experience, when girls get that steely eye look and use that tone it's never good,” Vernon said to Emerson. “You must have done something bad.”

“I can't imagine what it might be,” Emerson said.

Riley leaned forward and poked him in the chest. “How about ruining my life?” Poke. “How about not consulting me on any of your nutso plans?” Poke. “And you didn't eat the sandwich I made for you.”

“I don't like white bread,” Emerson said.

“That's ridiculous,” Riley said. “Everyone likes white bread.”

“You're going into a land of hurt with this woman,” Vernon said to Emerson. “She's pretty as all get-out but she's not dumb, and you're going to have to rearrange your thinking if she's a keeper.”

“My thinking is perfect,” Emerson said. “What do you mean…‘keeper'?”

Vernon hung an arm on Emerson's shoulder. “Son, you need to come with me. I got some homemade hooch in the RV that'll set it all straight.”

Emerson followed Vernon into the RV, and Myra turned to Riley.

“Sometimes it's hard to tell who's the smart one,” Myra said.

“Have they always been friends?”

“Ever since they were little boys. Emerson used to get shipped off to spend some of his summer with his ‘country relatives.' We loved him dearly but he could be a trial. Even as a little boy he had a persistent personality.”

“How did you get to be country relatives? You must have had the same privileged childhood as your brother.”

“When I was four, my mother walked out on her marriage and left the Knight money behind. She took me with her. My brother, Mitchell, was fourteen and stayed with his daddy. When our father died, all the money went to him. It was just as well, because I've always been happy here in the mountains.”

“I get the impression Emerson wasn't close to his father.”

“Mitchell wasn't close to anyone. Not even his wives. Except for Bertram Grunwald. Mitchell and Bertram met at the University of Virginia and were instant chums. That's how they put it. Chums. After college they stayed chums. They shared a lot of interests.”

“Such as?”

“Economics, poker, whores, and rockets. They used to fire them off from Rock Creek Park.”

“The whores or the rockets?”

“Both, I think. This was before Mitchell and Bertram conquered the world. They never forgot how they started, though. Just two rich kids with a dream to get even richer. Though Mitchell was far richer to start with.

“They used to get together for poker games every Wednesday. Even when Bertram Grunwald was teaching at Harvard, Emerson's father used to fly up there for the game. That was how he gave Professor Grunwald his first million, by deliberately losing to him. It was their little joke.”

“Emerson doesn't seem to be friends with the Grunwald boys.”

“They never hit it off. And they didn't get to see much of each other. There was a big difference in age.”

“Emerson's father must have been devastated when Bertram died.”

“I suppose. Although it's rumored they had a falling-out shortly before Bertram passed. I don't know what that was about.”

Riley looked around. “It's hard to see in the dark, but it looks like Vernon's RV is all alone here. Where's your house?”

“My place is down the road a bit,” Myra said. “Vernon lives here in a cabin tucked into the woods. He likes it here because he's right on a good fishing pond. We've got a couple hundred acres of property between us. Most of it's uphill and downhill. Larry can stay in the RV and the rest of us can all stay in Vernon's little cabin tonight. I guess tomorrow you and Emerson will be taking off. I imagine he has a plan all laid out.”

V
ernon's cabin was half a notch above a man cave. Not a lot of frills but clean and comfortable, with indoor plumbing and a flat-screen television. Riley slept in the loft, where she was stuffed into a sleeping bag. Vernon and Myra had bedrooms, and Emerson slept on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Everyone was up early drinking coffee and eating Myra's pancakes.

“You know how to drive a Redhawk, right?” Vernon asked Riley.

“Not only can I drive it,” Riley said, “I can change the oil and rotate the tires.”

“Good to know she's gonna be taken care of,” Vernon said. “She's borrowed from my friend Andy Gattle. He's got a bunch of these old girls that he rents out to city people looking for a country experience. I gave him a jug of our special moonshine for it, and he brought it over at the crack of dawn all gassed up and everything.”

“I thought we were taking
your
RV.”

“No way,” Vernon said. “You're going off the grid. You take mine and the feds will be on you like flies on a fruitcake.”

They hiked a short distance in the chill mountain air, and Vernon handed keys over to Riley. “Your RV is the one next to mine. She's a beauty, right?”

Riley bit into her lower lip to keep from whimpering. It was a total hunk of junk. Rust everywhere. Nondescript paint job. She thought it might have at some point been painted with rainbow colors. Bumper sticker from Mama Jolene's Campground, and another advertising the NRA. Hula girl bobblehead on the dashboard.

“I know it looks a little over the hill,” Vernon said, “but Andy keeps his girls tuned up and ready to roll. Plus you got an extra case of motor oil in the storage under your vehicle in case you need it.”

Riley climbed into the driver's seat, and Emerson climbed in next to her. What few worldly possessions they had were stashed in the back, and Emerson had his rucksack at his feet.

Riley started the engine, slammed the Redhawk into reverse, and took out a lawn chair. She put it in park and leaned out the window. “Sorry about that, Vernon.”

“Never mind that old chair,” Vernon said. “I got three more.”

Riley eased the Redhawk off Vernon's property, down the country road, and pointed it at the highway.

“Son,” she said to Emerson, “we're going on a road trip.”

“You sound like Vernon.”

“I like Vernon. He reminds me of my brothers.”

Emerson took a large fold-up map of the United States out of his rucksack and opened it. A bright yellow line had been traced across it with a highlighter.

“I'm guessing the yellow line is our route,” Riley said. “What's at the end of it?”

“Nevada. When we were in Günter's office I showed you a note that said ‘Shipments made to Groom Lake.' In light of all that's happened I feel it could be significant. Günter's office had been swept clean, but this note was handwritten on a yellow pad and overlooked.”

“Groom Lake and Area 51 are all within Nellis Air Force Base,” Riley said.

“Precisely. It's a top-secret government installation. People have theorized for years about what goes on there, but the NSA keeps them away.”

“Everyone knows that aliens are kept at Area 51 along with all the
X-Files
and
Close Encounters
doodads,” Riley said.

“Doodads?”

“That's the technical term.”

“I suspect possibly a quarter of the world's gold supply, some of which is mine, is being housed there along with the doodads.”

“And you've reached this conclusion on the basis of five words written on a piece of paper?”

“Correct.”

I'm hooked up with a fruitcake, Riley thought. The man takes the term “loose cannon” to a whole new level. He's a loose cannon with a bunch of nuts and bolts missing.

“I'd feel better about this road trip if you had something a little more concrete driving your gold theory,” Riley said.

“Sometimes one must take a leap of faith,” Emerson said. “Follow the yellow line.”

Riley blew out a sigh and headed down Interstate 81. She hadn't driven a monster like the Redhawk in years, and she'd forgotten how cumbersome they were to maneuver. The reaction time was slow on the brakes and steering, and gusting wind rocked it side to side.

They stopped for lunch in Tennessee, and Riley studied the map while she ate her bacon cheeseburger. Emerson had chosen a southern route taking them through Nashville, Oklahoma, and the Texas panhandle. They'd be passing very close to Bishop Hills, her hometown. It would be tempting to stop in and see her family, but Riley couldn't see it happening. They were supposed to be off the grid. She knew that included more than electronics. It included family. And most important, she didn't want to put them in jeopardy.

“What are we going to do when we get to you-know-where?” Riley asked Emerson.

“Look around.”

“I am
not
breaking into any more gold vaults.”

“I doubt the gold is kept in a normal vault,” Emerson said. “That would be too obvious.”

“I'm also not breaking into a high-security military installation,” Riley said.

“We'll see.”

“No! There's no ‘we'll see.' People get shot doing things like that. And it's very against the law. What would the Siddhar think of that?”

“I haven't spoken to the Siddhar about it.”

“Who is this guy anyway? Is he like Yoda?”

“He's more like Master Po. From
Kung Fu Panda.
”

“Okay, but what is he like? Where does he come from? How old is he?”

“He's like himself. I don't know how old he is or where he comes from. He lives in a monastery outside Port Blair in the Andaman Islands.”

“How did you meet him?”

“It was when I was sailing around the world. I dropped anchor at Corbyn's Cove in the Andamans. He was in the water. I saved him from drowning.”

“Drowning? If he was so wise, why didn't he know how to swim?”

“Why don't I know how to drive? There are some holes in everyone's knowledge. The point is that I was lost. I was wandering. He saved me, as well.”