H.J. Gaudreau - Jim Crenshaw 02 - The Collingwood Legacy (19 page)

Chapter 47

Kalkaska is a small town living on welfare, Social Security and the tourist trade. Moderately famous for being the home of Trout Unlimited, a conservation club devoted to preservation of wild rivers and the fish that inhabit them, the town has long attempted to style itself as the inland fishing capital of northern Michigan. An attempt which has not met with great success. The town fathers most noted effort is the the annual “Trout Festival”.

The festival begins with a ceremony in the town square at the fountain, known locally as the “Fisherman’s Shrine”. The fountain, topped with a statute of a leaping brook trout, is in need of some touch-up paint, and stands in front of the community center and historical museum. To say that the town mothers were unimpressed with the festival, or the fish, puts it lightly.

Jim sat on the concrete bench to one side of the giant fish. The cool, early morning air did nothing to ease the pounding in his head. Jim decided he had the first migraine headache of his life.

He checked his watch. The caller was late. Another ten minutes slipped past. Now, worried that Eve’s phone would not ring, having checked the cell phone signal strength at least twenty times, the phone finally erupted to life.

“Okay asshole, you got the money?” the voice on the phone asked.

“I got it, let me speak to my wife?” Jim replied.

“Not till next time. Now, listen up. Go to the ticket booth at Fort Michilimackinac, got it?

Jim had never heard the word the caller had just used before. Was that someplace or something? Did this guy work for some obscure tourist board or travel company?

Fighting down a wave of pure fury Jim did his best to stay calm, “What? Are you fu…” He stopped, told himself to be calm, took a breath…and lost the battle. “Are you insane?” Jim exploded. “What the hell…where the hell is that?” Staying calm hadn’t worked out.

“Whoa there Jimmy. You’d better relax. What’s the problem, you’ve never heard of Mackinaw City? It’s the fort at the foot of the Bridge stupid.”

“That’s a long way from Kalkaska.” Jim said, not bothering to hide his anger.

“Yeah, sucks to be you. You’ve got an hour forty-five to get there.” The voice shot back. Then the line went dead.

Cole chuckled. He needed some sleep and having Jim drive back and forth across northern Michigan seemed a good way to get it and with the price of gasoline it seemed extra funny. He’d thought about having Jim take the ferry to Mackinaw Island, but didn’t do it. Hell, he’d given Jim a break, what was he so upset about?

Cole walked the length of the dock next to the boathouse. He thought about the woman he’d locked into the storage room. Deciding he was too tired to torment her Cole climbed into the aft cabin of the Morgan sailboat, set the alarm clock and fell asleep.

Jim ran to his Jeep cursing the man, the phone, the boat and the money. It was almost a hundred miles to Mackinaw City, then where would this jerk send him? Two hours later Jim stood at the ticket booth of the old French trading fort. Above him towered the southern end of the “Mighty Mac”, third largest suspension bridge in the world. It didn’t impress. Jim paced, he sat, he worried.

Finally, an hour after he arrived the phone rang. “How’s the view?” the voice asked.

“I’m not playing this game much longer. Let me talk to my wife.” Jim spat.

“You’ll talk to her when I decide you’ll talk to her. Now, listen carefully ass hole. Drive to Boyne Mountain Ski Resort. Buy a ticket for the 10 A.M. ride on the Twin Zip. Take the money to the top of the zip line. Get off the lift; walk under the chair lift to the top. When you reach the brown machinery building I want to see the money so hold it up. We’ll be watching. If we don’t see the money, or think you’re playing a trick, it’s all over, got that?” The man didn’t wait for Jim’s answer. “Then walk down the mountain and take the zip line back to the lodge. I want to see your style as you ride the line down.” The voice started its odd laughter again. “Then I want to see you driving out of the resort thirty minutes after you drive in, got it?”

“No deal, I want my wife before I drop off the money.”

“You’re not in a position to be making demands asshole.” The phone went dead in Jim’s hand.

Jim sprinted to his Jeep, started the engine and began the long drive back to the resort that he’d passed on his way to Mackinaw City. As he drove Jim reviewed his plan. It might work, he figured his chances were less than fifty-fifty, but he didn’t see any other choice. Right now he didn’t have enough information. Events were driving him instead of the other way round. He couldn’t get inside his opponent’s head. Try as he might Jim couldn’t come up with an idea better than get the collar into their hands, track them down and kill them. It was a small chance. But he and Eve had plans, he wasn’t going to lose her now; a small chance was better than nothing.

Chapter 48

The Boyne Mountain Ski Resort is open year round. Located on a ridge running north and south it’s one of the Midwest’s largest ski resorts. For skiers familiar with miles long ski runs of the the Rocky Mountains or even the runs of New England, it is merely a bump on an otherwise flat landscape. However, the resort owners have done the best they can with what they have. Short but challenging ski runs on the front of the hill keep the resort full during the winter. During the short Northern Michigan summers two world class golf courses, cut into the trees on the top and back of the ridge, ensure the resort stays relatively full.

While Dad golfs the kids spend the family money on the resort’s various adventure park attractions. The most popular being the zip lines. Each ride is scheduled on the hour, exactly one trip per ticket. Tickets are sold for the specific times. Using the ski lifts, patrons are carried to the top of the euphemistically named ‘mountain’ and deposited at a small building where they are given a final demonstration and safety check. Then the kids, and nongolfing parents, are strapped into a harness, suspended from one of two cables and sent on a high-speed thrill ride.

One ride, known as the Twin Zip simply returns the rider to the bottom of the hill. Its attraction is that it is placed parallel with a second zip line. The arrangement allows riders to race each other down the hill.

The other zip line is known as the Adventure Tour. Its start is approximately two hundred yards further up the hill from the Twin Zip. Once deposited at the Adventure Tour start, the rider is given the final safety check then sent on a tour of the ski hill and resort grounds using seven different zip lines.

Jim’s Jeep skidded to a stop in the resort parking lot at exactly nine-thirty. He grabbed the newspaper bag, lifted the rag and turned on the collar. Then Jim stuffed the bag into his backpack and sprinted into the large, rough oak log cabin style hotel lobby. Several people were milling about the lobby, three men carried golf bags past Jim and out to the parking lot.

A small line had formed near a kiosk on the opposite wall. Jim studied the scene then decided the kiosk hid the zip line ticket counter and hurried in that direction. He rounded the kiosk just as a group of six teenagers and two adults were finishing their purchase. The excited group slowly made their way from the counter. A grandmotherly type with two youngsters were next. The attendant made one of the children stand next to a candy stripped pole, “See Grandma, I told you I was high enough,” the little boy shrieked.

This was taking too long! He’d miss the ten o’clock ride, then what? A flash of panic swept over Jim, what if there were no tickets left? What if the ten o’clock had sold out?

The Grandmother finished her purchase and the three headed to the lift line. Jim was next. The young cashier looked at him, “For the ten o’clock? How many please?”

“Yeah, the ten o’clock, just one,” Jim handed over his credit card.

The young man paused, glanced up at Jim, then continued with the transaction. After a moment he asked, “You a fan of zip lines?” and handed the credit card back.

“No,” Jim replied taking the card and his ticket and trotting out of the building.

A small, fenced in area had been set up where skiers normally queued up for the lift line. Several benches had been placed inside and faced an opening blocked with a small white vinyl coated chain. Several teenagers, the parents, the grandmother and her two charges were spread about the benches.

Jim placed the backpack on the bench and sat down next to it. Carefully he examined the resort. Hundreds of windows from the hotel, shops, lobby and stairwells stared back. He began at the top floor, sweeping his gaze along that floor then the next. He held little hope that this exercise would lead to his wife, but it kept his mind busy.

“Beautiful day isn’t it?” the grandmother asked.

“Yes, I’m sure it is,” Jim replied and began to examine the shops lying directly across from the zip line waiting area.

“Are you here with your family?” the woman was looking at him intently, expecting a friendly reply. Jim looked at the woman, a long steady glare, he couldn’t afford a friendly conversation, not now.

“No,” was all Jim said, then picked up his bag and moved to the other end of the bench. The woman sat straight up, said “Well….” in her most judgmental tone and pulled a novel from her purse.

A young woman, about nineteen or twenty, exited a small building at the end of the lift line and approached. Her shirt said “ZIP TO FUN” and she wore a Michigan State Spartan baseball cap, her blond ponytail was pulled through the back and danced as she walked. She asked for everyone’s attention then went through a short safety lecture. Harnesses and helmets would be fitted at the top and additional instructions would be provided. She then began the traditional “move to the right, then join the line” speech.

Jim checked his watch. It was nine fifty-eight.  Jim was at the back of the line; in front of him stood the grandmother and her two grandchildren. The lift seats were wide, normally seating three skiers across. The teenagers each sat three to a seat. The parents sat by themselves, then came the grandmother and her two charges. The children were excited and began pushing and shoving each other. The attendant winked at the grandmother, then said “Would you two big kids like to sit by yourselves?” This delighted the pair and soon they were seated at opposite ends of a lift chair. The attendant buckled each child’s safety belt around their waist, then lowered the chair’s standard safety bar. With a call of, “Get ready, here ya go!” the lift moved the chair forward, the children squealed and a new seat rolled into place.

The attendant directed the grandmother to the seat, then indicated to Jim that he was to take a seat as well. Jim sat down. The woman glared at him, said nothing and looked off into the distance.

The attendant gave a shout and waved her arm. The lift began moving steadily up the mountain. Jim began to study both sides of the wooded chairlift path as the seat climbed.

The mountain, in reality the hill, was fairly low and this lift only went to the half way point. As a result the ride only lasted a few minutes. An attendant at the top stood on a temporary wooden deck where the winter snow normally allowed skiers to glide off a moving chair. The attendant lifted the each chair’s safety bar, unbuckled the children and directed traffic to a set of benches arranged similarly to those below and located next to a small shed which held the harnesses and helmets.

Attached to the equipment shed was a deck which served as the launching point for the zip line. Jim’s seat stopped and started as each chair discharged its passengers. The delay infuriated him, but there was nothing he could do. Soon enough Jim’s chair stopped at the deck. A pretty college student, her hair in a braid, wearing shorts and a Northern Michigan University tee shirt, quickly raised the seat’s safety bar. Without a word Jim was on his feet and climbing toward the top of the hill.

The girl, surprised but familiar with the jerks who abused her system, immediately yelled that he couldn’t do that. Jim ignored the calls and continued to climb.

Frustrated, the girl shook her head, muttered something about crazy old men and began her duties with the remaining zip line patrons.

After ten minutes of climbing Jim arrived at a brown concrete block building with a wooden sign over the door. The sign, painted light blue with gold old English lettering said, “Mechanical Building No. 3”. Jim scanned the woods in all directions. He was out there, the man who had his wife. Jim grit his teeth and steeled himself for the events to come. Would they take the bait? Would he be able to keep the tracking device in range? Would his Eve be freed? It all depended on what they decided to do now, they were entirely in control. He slipped the backpack off his shoulder.

From the woods two hundred yards away Cole had Jim centered in his binoculars. There it was! All that money just waiting for him to come and pick it up. He watched as Jim put the backpack on the ground and removed the ancient newspaper delivery boy’s bag. Jim tossed the backpack on the ground and held the old bag over his head. Then, exactly as he’d been told, Jim disappeared behind the building.

A moment later he returned; slowly he picked up the backpack, then turned it inside out. He held the backpack in an outstretched hand and turned a complete circle to show he no longer had the newspaper bag. Cole began to grin, he thought Jim looked like an idiot trying to do some native dance. This was really beginning to be fun.

Carefully Jim began the return hike to the zip line. Unfortunately, he forgot the power of the hill. Quickly he gained speed as the slope of the mountain pulled him down. Involuntarily, Jim began to run, then his legs couldn’t keep up and he fell, rolled several times and stopped. Cole erupted. Unable to stop laughing Cole put his binoculars down and wiped his eyes.

Jim stood and began zig-zagging down and across the face of the hill. It worked and he was able to stay on his feet all the way to the Twin Zip tower. A furious Jim Crenshaw found the girl from Northern Michigan University reading a book and sitting on a lawn chair in front of the shed. All the riders had been dispatched and her job was done until the next batch arrived. Not saying a word, Jim opened the door to the shed, took a harness from a peg on the wall and begun putting it on before the girl noticed him. She was immediately on her feet.

“You can’t do that sir. I’m sorry but you can’t ride until the next scheduled run at 11 o’clock.”

“Miss, I’ve got to get back down that mountain.” Jim shot back.

“I’m sorry. It’s a safety thing.” Jim could feel the eyes of his antagonists on him. He had been told to take the zip line back down and he wasn’t about to risk disobeying that instruction.

“I’m sorry too. But, I’m going and I’m going right now.” Jim finished clipping into the harness and walked to the zip line.

“SIR!” The girl yelled. “You’ve got to stop or I’m going to have to call security.”

“Call ‘em.” Jim growled. Then he hooked on to the cable and ran off the edge of the platform.

Cole was nearly hysterical. Jim’s legs and arms flew out to his sides as he missed his grip. His body twisted uncontrollably as he dangled from the zip line. A quick moment later Cole calmed a bit as Jim found his form and completed the ride, but the whole scene was still funny and Cole continued to chuckle. Using his binoculars Cole watched Jim land at the bottom. Two security guards were running toward him. This would be fun.

Jim extended his feet, hit the platform, took three steps to stop his momentum and stood. Immediately the two, in what appeared to be police uniforms, were grabbing him by the arms.

Jim quickly examined the men, no side arms only what appeared to be tasers and medal expandable batons in leather cases. Security guards. The mad man’s warning to keep the police away or he’d kill Eve swirled in Jim’s head. Then Jim could feel the seeds of a plan begin to grow. Maybe this could be turned to his advantage.

Cole watched as Jim slipped out of the harness. The security guards had a firm grip and it was clear they were not happy with poor Jimmy-boy. Cole struggled to keep the scene centered as his body shook with each new hysterical laugh. Finally, one on each side, Jim’s arms firmly in their grip, the two security guards led him into the main lodge.

The doors swung shut behind Jim and the guards. The interior of the Grand Lodge was rustic, with a stone floor and massive timber framing. Jim didn’t see any of it. The three men faced each other. Before the guards could say a word Jim announced, “Gentlemen, I know this looks bad. But I had to do what I did. There’s a madman up there watching me and he has my wife. I need your help.”

The guards studied him. The younger man rolled his eyes and glanced at his partner. The older man, apparently the more senior, looked Jim over, glanced at his gray hair and finally said, “Tell me about it.”

Jim quickly described what had happened at the house then his fruitless travels around northern Michigan. The guards still appeared skeptical. Frantically, Jim went through the thing again, still he could tell they didn’t believe him. Then Jim remembered the GPS receiver. He pulled the unit from his jacket pocket and turned it on.

Jim’s farm was displayed squarely in the center of the screen. A moment later the screen dissolved then reappeared in a pale green road map. The map was centered on their exact location. On the screen, at what appeared to be the half mile circle, a blue dot was slowly moving from left to right. Jim glanced at the strength meter, it was weak, one bar.

“There he is,” Jim said pointing to the dot. “He’s moving to watch the parking lot. He’s waiting to see me drive out the driveway.”

The older guard studied Jim. “I’m telling you the truth,” Jim said firmly.

After a short pause the man nodded his head slightly. “Dave, I believe him,” he said, not taking his eyes off of Jim or the GPS screen. It took a second or two but the younger man fell in line. “I do too Bill,” he said.

“Good,” Jim said. “Now, please, I’ve got to call the police.”

“No good. Nearest police post is in Petoskey, at least forty minutes away,” Dave said.

“You’re right, okay…” Jim thought about this new problem for a second or two. Then, turning to face Bill he said, “Will you two help me?”

The security guard didn’t hesitate.  “Any way we can. What’s your plan?”