No Return (36 page)

A LARGE MAN DRESSED IN BLACK STEPPED OUT
of the darkness and into the headlights. He had to be almost six foot five, and a good two hundred and thirty pounds.

“Who is that?” Wes asked.

Dori remained silent as the man walked up to the front passenger door, opened it, and climbed in.

“Evening, gentlemen,” he said.

“Who the hell are you?” Wes asked. “Dori, what’s going on?”

Forman didn’t give a damn who the man was. He grabbed the door handle and started to pull. But the door didn’t budge.

Wes grabbed at the handle next to him, but his door didn’t open, either.

Dori threw the car into drive, and the Lincoln pulled back onto the road, its speed increasing rapidly, pushing Wes and the commander back in their seats.

“Sorry about the child locks,” Dori said. “But can’t have you accidentally falling out while we’re moving, can we? That certainly wouldn’t be safe.”

Wes started to lean forward, but as he did, the new passenger twisted in his seat, then swung his hand up and rested the barrel of a large pistol next to the headrest.

“Just relax,” Dori said, glancing into the rearview mirror and catching Wes’s eye. “Won’t be long now.”

“Won’t be long for what?”

“What are you trying to pull here, Stewart?” Forman said.

“I’m not trying to pull anything,” Wes said.

Up front Dori laughed, then said something to the new passenger in a voice too low for Wes to hear. As soon as she finished, the man motioned at Wes and the commander with his gun. “Why don’t you two give it a rest,” he said. “We can talk more when we get there.”

“Get where?” Wes asked.

The man simply grinned but said nothing.

Wes looked out his window. Though a half-moon was beginning to rise in the east, it was still too low to provide much illumination. Still, he was able to make out the bulky shape of B Mountain off to the left, and knew they must be on the highway to Trona, the same highway that ran by the Pinnacles, where the crash had occurred.

At first he thought that was where Dori was taking them, though he had no idea why. Unless, that was, she’d turned the tables and was actually working for Forman. But the commander seemed just as out of the loop as Wes felt. Then, just before the highway dipped down into a narrow, rocky canyon that would have taken them toward the Pinnacles, Dori turned onto a dirt road leading southeast into the wilderness.

Wes had been on this road back in high school, but where he’d been heading then and where they were heading now couldn’t be the same, could they? That didn’t make any sense.

Hell,
none
of it made sense, he thought.

Ahead the road forked. The fork to the right was wider and more traveled, leading to God knew where. The one to the left was in far worse shape and led up into some hills in the east. It was the left fork Wes had gone down last time. And, before she even turned the steering wheel, he knew that was the direction she was going to take this time, too.

The car bounced as it hit a rut, knocking Wes into the commander.

“Hang on, gentlemen,” the man with the gun said.

Wes moved back to his side, then tried to anchor himself with one hand on the door and the other against the roof.

They were going to have to stop soon. The road only went so far. He just hoped when they got to the end there would be other cars, throwing off whatever plan it was Dori and the man with the gun had in mind.

When they took the final turn, Wes’s hopes rose as he spotted something parked up where the road terminated. Maybe it was going to be all right. There
were
others.

But as the distance closed, his rising hope nosedived. The other vehicle wasn’t a car at all. It was a …

… horse trailer.

The Lincoln lit it up as they drew near. It had been backed in so that its doors were on the far side, away from them. And though it showed signs of age, it wasn’t falling apart, and therefore couldn’t have been out here for very long.

As soon as Dori brought the Lincoln to a stop and turned off the engine, a deathly quiet settled over everything.

Finally she turned so she could look at Wes and Commander Forman. “My friend here is going to get out. He’ll open the door next to you.” She flashed a glance at Wes. “I’ll wait here while you both climb out. And in case you’re thinking of trying something …” She raised her hand in the air. Like her friend, she was also holding a gun, only hers seemed even larger. “Everyone understand?”

“You need to let me go right now,” Forman said. “I’m an officer in the U.S. Navy, and you do not want the kind of trouble we will bring down on you.”

“Have you looked outside,
Commander
?” Dori asked. “We’re at least twenty miles from the closest building. Where do you think you would go?”

A superior smirk grew on the commander’s lips. “You don’t think I would have met Mr. Stewart without any backup, do you? I have a tracking chip. Within minutes a naval helicopter full of Marines is going to land. And when they do, if I’m not free, you will
not
survive.”

“A helicopter full of Marines.” Dori laughed, deep and loud. “You’re a liar, Commander. If that were true, don’t you think your rescue team would be hovering above us right now?” She shook her head. “No. You came alone, thinking you could shut Wes up, because guess what? Turns out Wes was right. You make me sick, Commander. You’re just lucky Wes here sickens me more.”

“What are you talking about?” Wes asked. “I barely even know you.”

“Where’s the chip?” Dori’s partner asked the commander. When Forman didn’t answer, the man leaned over the seat and slammed the butt of the gun against the commander’s cheek.

Forman grunted as he fell back against the seat. “In my shoe.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dori declared.

“I think we should check, anyway,” her partner said.

She shrugged. “Why not? All right, Commander, toss ’em both up here.”

“I will not!”

Dori aimed the barrel of her gun at his chest. “Fine with me. We’ll just take them off you after you’re dead.”

The commander did nothing for a moment, then reached down and removed his shoes. “It doesn’t matter. They already know where I am.”

“Shut it,” Dori’s partner said as he grabbed the shoes.

He then climbed out of the car and dropped them on the ground. A few seconds later, there were two loud gunshots.

“What do you know?” The guy held a shoe in the doorway so Dori could see it. “There
was
something there.”

Dori smiled at the commander. “They don’t know where you are now.”

“That’s not how that works,” the commander said. “They already know our position. And destroying the chip is their signal to land.”

“If you say so,” Dori said, still smiling.

Forman looked out at the sky, his eyes searching for something that didn’t appear to be there.

The door beside Wes opened.

“Now, both of you, out,” Dori said.

Wes climbed out first. The commander, feet clad only in socks, followed.

The half-moon dimly illuminated the desert in a gray-blue light.

“Stay right there,” Dori’s partner said, his gun trained on them.

Once Dori was out, she pointed her gun at the commander, then said, “Wes, you’re going to help my friend here, then we’re all going to go for a walk.”

The man waved the end of his barrel toward the horse trailer. “Come on,” he said. “Around to the doors.”

Not seeing much of an option, Wes did as he was ordered.

“Open it,” the man said once they’d reached the back.

Wes grabbed the handle, yanked it up and to the right, releasing the latch. Because of the angle, gravity held the doors in place. He pulled outward on the one covering the right half, then gave it a little push so it swung all the way out, then over, where it slammed against the outside of the trailer with a loud bang.

The interior was bathed in darkness.

“The other one,” the man said.

Wes repeated the action, this time with the left side.

Now that both halves were out of the way, dull moonlight was able to penetrate a few feet into the trailer. With the exception of some debris jutting out of the edge of the darkness, the rest of what Wes could see was barren floor.

“Go on,” the man said. “Inside.”

“You’re going to lock me in?” Wes asked. “Why? What have I done to you?”

“Inside,” the man repeated.

Wes’s eyes narrowed. This was ridiculous. Whatever game they were playing, he was done.

“No,” he said.

The man raised his gun. “
In
side.”

“No,” Wes repeated.

“Fine.”

Wes held his ground as the man sighted down his barrel at his chest.

“I would think you’d want to go inside,” Dori said.

Wes jerked at the sound of her voice. She and the commander had moved around the trailer and were standing a few feet away.

“I don’t care what you think.”

“Fine,” Dori said. She looked at her partner. “Come on. We’ll just leave her in there.”

Wes looked back at the trailer. “Leave who in there?”

Dori had already started to walk away. “What does it matter? You’ve made your choice.”

Wes took a step toward the trailer opening. It took a couple of seconds, but he soon saw the debris he’d noticed earlier wasn’t debris at all. It was a knee.

No longer even conscious of the guns behind him, he clambered into the back. The knee gave way to a leg, then a hip, and a torso.

Wes crouched down and gently turned the body toward him.

“Anna?”

LARS’S FIRST INSTINCT WAS TO DRIVE OVER TO
the house he knew Dori had lived in years before, but he only went a couple of blocks before he pulled over to the side of the road and retrieved his phone. She
could
still live there, but if she’d moved, he would be wasting time he couldn’t afford to waste.

“What city, please?” a recorded voice said.

“Ridgecrest, California.”

“What listing, please?”

“Dori Dillman.”

There was a pause. “I have no listing for that name. If you would like to look up another listing, please say yes.”

“Yes,” Lars said.

“What city, please?”

“Ridgecrest, California.”

“What listing, please?”

Lars paused.

“What listing, please?”

He hesitated a moment longer, then it came to him. “Doreen Dillman.”

“One moment, please.”

If Lars heard one more “please,” he was going to—

The recording came back on and provided a phone number. When he asked for an address, it supplied that, too.

“Son of a bitch,” he said under his breath as he started the motorcycle back up. Good thing he’d checked. Her current address put her about a mile west of the Desert Rose Motel, nowhere near the place he’d been headed to.

The first thing he noticed when he arrived was that there were no cars parked in the driveway or along the curb out front. There were also no lights on in any of the windows. He pounded on the front door, waited, then pounded again.

No response.

He tried the doorknob. Locked.

“Wes!” he yelled. “Wes!”

He tested the door again, not to see if it was still locked, but to get a sense of its sturdiness. As was the case with many older homes, what had once been a solid barrier had become simply adequate. He took a step back, raised his right foot, then kicked. The sole of his shoe landed flat against the door next to the knob, creating a satisfying
crack
.

He raised his foot again and gave it a second shot. This time the noise was even louder.

It was the fourth one that sent the door flying open. He was through and into the living room before it had stopped moving.

“Wes!” he yelled.

Kitchen. Dining room. Family room.

All empty.

He raced over to the hallway that led to the back of the house. Halfway to the end was a bathroom. He stuck his head in. Nothing.

He counted three bedrooms. The first looked like it was serving as a home office—a desk against one wall, bookcases and filing cabinets along the others. Littered across the floor were stacks of papers and magazines and folders and boxes.

He moved down to the next bedroom. Empty. Completely. No furniture. No boxes. Everything empty, that is, except the closet. It was half full of clothes. Men’s clothes. On the floor was an old green duffel bag, Army issue.

The last bedroom was the master. This had a bed, a dresser, and a stand with a TV on it. The closet here was a walk-in. It was stuffed with women’s clothing. But the room, like everywhere else in the house, was unoccupied.

Dammit!
He felt the urge to punch a wall, so he took a deep breath and tried to relax.
Okay. Okay. They’re not here. But there’s got to be something that might tell me where they are
.

He quickly opened all the drawers of the dresser, but only found more clothes. He moved down to the office and started searching. Barely a minute passed before he realized that if there was something there, it would take him too long to find it.

Desperate, he walked back into the main part of the house. The living room, nothing. The kitchen, nothing. The dining room—