Letter to Belinda (2 page)

When Travis found out about this, he immediately, and physically threw Rodney out of his house, while the whole time, the fool was trying to cast a spell on him. He allowed Jenny to haul his stuff out of the house to him, and then watched as the cursing moron drove away in his beat up Gremlin. At that time, Jenny decided that yes, she
did
want a divorce, and stayed at home with her family. The same day, Travis took Jenny to see a lawyer, about starting the divorce proceedings. Rodney was enraged by the news of the divorce, and threatened them with everything from a counter-lawsuit, to afflicting them with pestilence and disease through a satanic incantations learned off the internet. His constant calling and threatening, terrified Janice, but Travis blew them off as just idle threats. Rodney knew better than to call when
he
was there. He had already passed word on to Rodney that if he physically came back out to their farm, that he would not live to see his body hit the ground. Travis was a survivor of the Special Forces in Vietnam. He was one of their best trained killers, and he made no idle threats. He was actually
hoping
that Rodney was stupid enough to knock on his door while he was at home. Jenny’s primary problem would be solved in seconds. He had already thought up about twenty possible methods for the disposal of the body, by which it would never be found. So he thought that this mysterious woman calling him at work could be something to do with Jenny’s divorce. He would call from the lamp house phone because it was an outside line that was not a part of the mine system.

He dialed the number and it had hardly rang one time before someone picked up. But there was no voice on the other end, so Travis ventured a ‘hello’, then heard a familiar voice, “Travis, is that you?”

“Yes, this is Travis Lee.”

“Is this a secure line?”

He smiled when he recognized the voice. It could only belong to one person. “Is that you, Miranda?”

“Yes it is.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard from you. Where are you calling from?”

“The house of a friend.” Unable to hold it back any longer, she burst into tears.

“Let me guess, there’s something wrong?”

“Oh Travis, it’s
so
good to hear your voice again!”

“But that’s not why you’re crying, is it?”

“It’s part of it. Oh Travis, I’m in big trouble! I didn’t know who else to turn to that I could trust. When we were traveling together, you always seemed to know exactly what to do in any situation.”

“I was lucky.”

“Well, I need some of your luck right now, because I have definitely gotten myself into a ‘situation’!”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I can’t, not over the phone. You’ve got to come over here and see this for yourself.”

“This had better not be one of your tricks to get me over there so you can attempt to sexually abuse me!”

Miranda couldn’t help laughing through her tears at such an absurd suggestion. Even in the worst of situations, Travis knew exactly what to say to make her smile, and this was certainly one of the worst situations she had ever been in. She sniffled through her tears and replied, “You don’t have to worry about
that!
I just gave up on sex, after what happened tonight!”

“What happened?”

“Not over the phone. I need you here.”

“Where is ‘here’? I didn’t recognize the phone number.”

“Oh God, that’s right. You’ve never been out here to my new house, have you?”

“New house? Way to go, girl! Making good use of your lottery winnings eh?”

“It’s not a mansion, but it’s real nice. Small but nice. It’s right next door to the house where I’m calling you from.”

“In Tuscaloosa?”

“Yes, northeast of Tuscaloosa, on the Warrior River. Have you ever heard of Kellerman?”

“Yes, I know where Kellerman is.”

“Okay, you go up Kellerman road, which is Highway 18, I think, past the old Burchfield store, and turn off onto River Road. The houses along the river are off the road, so all you can see are the driveways where they branch off. You pass three driveways, and mine is the fourth. But where I’m calling from right now is the fifth driveway. The number on the mailbox is 312. How soon can you be here?”

“You’re serious? You want me to come over there right now?”

“The sooner the better.”

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not!”

“How long will this take?”

“Not long, I hope. I don’t even know what has to be done. That’s why I called you!”

“You’re not even going to give me a hint as to what this is all about, are you?”

“Look Travis, either you help me, or you don’t! But you are the only person I can trust to help me with this! If you won’t help me, I think I’ll just kill myself and be done with it!”

“No, don’t talk like that! I’ll come right over! I can’t guarantee that I can help, but I can certainly assess the situation. You said you’re calling from a friend’s house, where is he? Why can’t he help?” (Travis was sure that this friend was a ‘he’.)

“Oh, he’s no help at all! He’s the cause of this whole mess!”

“Will you be there when I get there?”

There was an almost hysterical laugh. “Of course I’ll be here! Where the hell could I go?”

“Okay, I’ll have to shower first. It will take me about an hour to get there from here. Is that okay?”

“It sounds great. Oh Travis, you’ll never know how much I appreciate you doing this! You are absolutely the only person I can turn to!”

“I hope I can help.”

“There is one more thing, Travis.”

“What?”

“When you get here, the house will be locked. I am inside, but I can’t come to the door.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t ask why, just listen! His house has a security system that we have to assume is activated, so if you break in, it will alert the police, and the police are the
last
ones I want to show up right now! So when you get here, you’ll have to figure out a way of getting into the house without tripping the system.”

“Can’t you disarm the system from inside the house?”

“I could, but I am in no position to do that, and don’t you even dare to ask why!”

“Why are you being so tight lipped? If there is something you’re not telling me, you’d better go ahead and get it over with.”

“You’ll understand everything once you get here. Please, just hurry!”

“How do I get around the security system?”

“You’ll think of something, I’m sure!”

“Why does it sound like there is an echo on your end of the line?”

“I have the speaker phone on. I had to punch out the number with my big toe.”

“Your toe?”

“Don’t even ask! Just get over here!”

“Okay, I’m going to get my shower. See you soon.”

Travis’ better judgment told him that he should call her back and tell her that he had changed his mind, that he going home instead. At some point in one’s life, one had to start making the conscious decisions to avoid doing stupid things. But on the other hand, he realized that in his late 40’s it was futile to try teaching an old dog new tricks. Besides, he was curious to see what kind of stupid situation Miranda had gotten herself into this time. At least it would be a diversion from the problems he was having with Jenny.

2
 

T
ravis found Kellerman easy enough, having been there before. He followed her instructions, drove up County road 18, then turned off on River Road, counted three driveways, then at the fourth saw a mailbox with the name Monroe. The next driveway was where she said she would be. He stopped with his headlights on the next mailbox. Yep, 312. This was it. The name on the box was Rosewood. He pulled into the cobblestone driveway and drove slowly through a beautiful wooded area before arriving at a very nice looking (and very expensive) house nestled against a hillside. By the moonlight he could see that there was a panoramic view of a bend in the Warrior River on the north side.

There was only one vehicle in the driveway, a red Mercedes convertible, with the top down. The most prominent detail he noted about the house itself was that there was not a single light on anywhere. He wondered if this was really the right house. He got out and walked around in the front yard, looking at the windows, trying to figure a way to get into the house. He proceeded around to the back yard, careful not to disturb anything. As he did so, he couldn’t help feeling like he was being set up for something. Suppose he breaks into this house and the police catch him here? What if a crime had been committed here, and he gets blamed for it? Miranda was certainly upset about something. It wasn’t like her to call him out here like this, especially after he had not heard from her in almost a year. Winning the lottery had changed her in a lot of ways. One good way was that it had taken her mind off of him. Something must be bad wrong for her to call him up and ask for help in this manner. But he trusted her, so he was going to try to help her if he could.

He knew that any security system would have an invisible and impenetrable wall around the outside of the house, but that usually extended just to the eves of the house. The roof was vulnerable. He went around to the back yard to examine the tool shed for a possible ladder, and found it also locked. If there was a ladder, it was locked inside the shed, and he had no idea if the security system also covered the shed, so he didn’t want to risk it. He would have to find another way to enter the house. The roof was the key. If he could get on the roof, he could enter through one of the three ventilation turbines mounted on the roof. But the trick was getting on the roof.

He scanned the woods surrounding the house. There were no large trees near enough that he could access the roof from them. But on the east side there were a few tall slender sweetgum trees which, if bent far enough over
might
reach the roof. One in particular looked promising. He made his way around to the base of the tree and started to shimmy up the slick bark of the tree. It was a lot harder to shimmy than he remembered it being when he was a kid, but then, as a kid, he wasn’t carrying around forty pounds of excess body weight. And he was in a little better shape when he was a kid. He could climb like a squirrel and think nothing of climbing a tree like this one in just a few seconds. His years were showing as he labored to reach the first small limbs, and rest awhile before going again. As he got higher, he moved around to the side facing the house, so his weight would cause the tree to lean toward the house. Which it started to do once he had reached two thirds of the trees height, yet it wouldn’t fall over, so he climbed higher and higher, until he was as high as he dared go, for fear that the top would break out. He tried rocking the tree, but it wouldn’t go on over. Looking down he saw why. It was a wire.
Crap!
What
kind
of
wire
is
that?
Am
I
about
to
get
fried?
In the darkness he had not noticed the wire before, but now he did. It was not connected to the tree he was in, but it was preventing his tree from falling over as he had planned. It seemed to be stretched to the point of breaking. He visually followed the wire back to a power pole toward the front of the house in one direction, while the other way it went to a tree, then to the side of the house. No, it couldn’t be a power cable. Most likely a cable TV line. That was a relief. At least he knew he wasn’t going to get electrocuted. He began rocking the tree again.

When the wire connections broke loose, it came all at once. Travis braced for the impact with the roof, but it was a lot harder than he expected. It actually knocked the wind out of him, and had to have shaken the whole house. He had just alerted anyone inside the house that a 240 pound man had arrived. He let go of the tree and it swished back to an upright position, leaving him stranded on the roof. Phase one on the mission accomplished: he was on the roof. Now for phase two: to get
into
the house.

He rubbed his bruised hip as he stood up and examined one of the ventilation turbines. Two screws held the turbine in place, and using his pocket knife, he had them out in no time, and had the turbine off. Inside the duct were two stiffener bars, but they were only spot-welded in place and he easily broke them out of the way. He took out his pocket Brinkman and shined its beam down into the dark attic. He could see 2x6 ceiling studs protruding above the blown-in insulation about four feet down, but nothing else in the way. The only question now was, could he get his fat ass through this ventilation duct? It was going to be a close call. The only way to find out was to apply the ass, so he grabbed the sides and stepped into the duct, lowering himself down. His hips slid tightly through the duct, aided by gravity. One thing for sure, once he got in, he would have to find another way out, because this mode would only work one way. If there was no way into the house from the attic, he would have to make a way. He felt for the studs with his feet, and found them, and put all his weight on them, squatting down fully in the attic.

The light from the Brinkman revealed a virtually empty attic, which was not a good sign. Usually if there was an access door to the attic, there would be a pile of junk stored there. Here there was nothing. But he did see a protrusion on the far side that
looked
like it could be a folded set of steps. He duck-walked across the attic, wiping away spider webs as he went and discovered, to his glee, that it
was
a set of folding attic stairs. It looked as though it had never been used, and the homeowner probably didn’t even know it was there, but Travis was about to put it to use. He pushed down on the steps, causing the large retracting springs to give off a resounding groan, but it couldn’t be helped. It appeared to be a pantry closet it opened into, as there were shelves of cleaners and junk on both sides of him as he descended the ladder. Not wanting to make any more noise than necessary, he left the attic steps down as he cautiously opened the closet door.