Wisdom Spring (4 page)

They rang up my purchase and handed me the bag of food. Do I wait here, in the car, or close to the bathroom? Taking a seat in the restaurant seemed the best move. Five minutes passed. Various customers came in and out—the normal Burger King crowd. But then two men walked through the door who had a different appearance about them. Yes, they were ordering food, but there was something else. They were looking for something—or someone. They did it furtively, but without a doubt, they were searching the faces of the customers.

They weren’t cops. That much was obvious. But they had a “security” aura about them. P.I.’s? Bounty hunters? I couldn’t tell. But my gut told me they were looking for Jess. If that was the case, how did she know? We arrived almost ten minutes before them, but she was disturbed from the moment we walked into the place.

I watched them as nonchalantly as they watched others. They were focusing only on the women. Finally, they got their orders, and with a final glance around, they left. I kept watching as they got in their car—a late model Ford—and headed back toward the highway. I waited a couple of minutes, then went back to the restrooms. I hadn’t seen any other women go back there, so I was pretty sure Jess was alone.

I knocked on the door and said, “Jess? You okay? They’re gone.” What made me say that last part was beyond me, but I knew it was the right thing to say.

She opened the door cautiously, saw that I was alone, and came out. She was a mess, visibly shaking and wide-eyed.

“What happened?” I asked. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That two guys were in here looking for you. At least, I think they were.”

“Ahh,” was her reply.

“Ahh?”

She shook her head as if to say, “not here,” so we walked out to the car without speaking. Once we got in and I had locked the doors, she seemed to breathe easier. I moved the car over to a more secluded corner of the lot to make her feel a bit safer. I offered her a burger, but she shook her head.

Finally she said, “I didn’t know anyone was coming in to look for me, but it makes sense. When I walked into the place, I had a message to run to the bathroom…”

“What was the message,” I interrupted.

“I can’t really tell you. It was just a message. It wasn’t anything spoken, no flashing lights, nothing pushed me. I just knew, and I knew that I had to go in there quickly, that I didn’t have much time.”

“The Voice?”

“Yes, but as is usually the case, I had no idea why. That’s why I didn’t come out.”

“You didn’t get an ‘all-clear’ message?”

She gave me a look, as if I was making fun of her.

“No, I’m serious. You got the message to go in. How would you get a message that it’s okay to come out?”

“I did. You called to me.”

That made me stop. It was confusing and was becoming more so by the minute. Did that mean I was part of the message? Or did The Voice know that I would let her know? I was feeling a little bit of overload.

“Don’t try to find an explanation,” she said, looking at my furrowed brow. “I’ve had a year of this and I still can’t explain it.”

She seemed better, but still a bit shaky. Again she turned down the burger, so I started the car and pulled out.

“What did they look like?” she asked.

“Pretty average,” I answered. “Two white guys, probably mid-thirties, definitely not cops. They were checking out all the women, but not in ‘that’ way. They were definitely looking for someone. It seemed logical that that person was you.”

“Hillstrom’s men,” she stated.

“But why out here?”

“I don’t know. He seems to have unlimited resources and I’m on the run. They probably know that I have no money, so to get anywhere I’d have to hitch, and the highways are the easiest places to get rides that will take you far away. Maybe they did the math and figured how far I could’ve gotten. I really don’t know. I just know they are out there looking for me. I can’t help but to think that it’s just a matter of time before they find me, and now you.”

Chapter 4

Once we were on the road Jess seemed to calm down. I kept an eye out for the Ford, and over the next couple of hours of driving, I got more of the story.

When Jess signed on, Hillstrom had taken an immediate shine to her, and vice-versa. Jess was in an office in a different building from Hillstrom, and so didn’t see him on a daily basis, but he made an effort to stop by at least once a week to thank his research staff for all their hard work. Occasionally he would take one or more out for lunch. Over time, the occasional lunch with Jess became the occasional dinner.

“He was absolutely charming,” she told me. “He never said or did anything inappropriate, but he made me feel special. I’ll admit, I developed a bit of a crush on him.”

“Did you sleep with him?” I immediately regretted the question. Was I a little jealous? However, it didn’t seem to faze her.

“No, although in all honesty, I was waiting for him to ask. If he had, I think I would have.” A little more staring into space, then she returned. “I had a lot of time to think while standing on the side of the road. That was all intentional on his part. He would never have asked me to sleep with him. By keeping me at arm’s reach, I was like a school-girl. I would have done anything for him, with the hope that someday … God, I feel so stupid!”

“Don’t,” I said. “You were manipulated by a master. You had no control over it. He made sure of that. I was a vice president of sales. I would have given anything to have someone with his skills on my team.” I realized that my old profession was seeming rather silly to me now.

“Thank you. But I realize now that, over time, he was subtly dropping hints that some people were out to tarnish his reputation. He must have been good, because I had no idea that he was even doing it. He was developing my loyalty, and I think he was doing the same to others in my office. We were all becoming spies for him and didn’t even know it.”

“Spies for what?”

“Don’t know. Each other? Maybe he did that to all his staffers. Maybe they were all so loyal to him they would rat out a colleague if need be. I think he was just covering all his bases. Maybe he was paranoid. But judging by all that has happened, I think he had deeper reasons for wanting to spy on people. I think he was hiding a lot and wanted to make sure it stayed hidden. Anyway, so when my co-worker Greg came to me with information he said he was going to bring to the press, that’s when I made the mistake that got my four co-workers killed.”

She explained that Greg had been working on some background material on the senator that Hillstrom’s official biographer had asked for.

“An autobiography by Hillstrom is due out next year. But by the amount of work this biographer had us doing, I really doubt Hillstrom is writing any of it himself,” she said.

Jess said that Greg had run across some fairly obscure inconsistencies in the senator’s background.

“Greg was like a bloodhound,” she explained. “He was by far the best researcher there. He really should have been a reporter. Hillstrom loved Greg. Greg did a lot of great work for him, and his research skills were the source of many of the senator’s bills in Congress, popular public causes, not to mention dirt on his opponents. But his skill got him in trouble this time.”

As Greg dug deeper, more was revealed. Inconsistency led to inconsistency. All minor by themselves, but when put together, they must have set off an alarm in the mind of a master researcher.

“It was obvious for about a month that something was bothering Greg, and as each week went by, he was getting more … well … I don’t know if ‘agitated’ or ‘excited’ would be the more appropriate word. The loyal staffer was agitated, but I think the researcher part of him was excited. He was getting totally caught up in the process. Finally, a few days ago—maybe a week, I’ve lost track of time—he had us meet him for dinner at some out of the way restaurant. There were five of us who worked in the office. We were pretty close, as people in a small office sometimes get. I think the four of them were a little closer because they had been together longer. I only say that because the other three believed him immediately, but I was having trouble with it.”

“So what did Greg say?” I asked.

“Basically everything I’ve already told you. He kept in generalities and didn’t show us any of his research. He purposely didn’t go into specifics. Maybe it was his way of protecting us. He said it was on his laptop and printed copies and flash drive copies were in a safe deposit box somewhere.”

“Which,” I interrupted, “are probably gone now. If Hillstrom has the reach you say he has, the laptop would be history and finding and accessing his box would be simple for them. That proof is long gone.”

“I agree. I came to that conclusion too. Anyway, Greg said he had some reporter friends he was going to give the story to. I asked him if he was sure, because the wrong information could ruin Gary’s career—yes, we all called Hillstrom by his first name. He insisted. Greg said the public had a right to know. He had obviously made up his mind.”

“And the other three agreed?”

“As I said, I think they believed him, but they had doubts about his plan to make it public. We all really liked Gary, and they weren’t sure if Greg had gotten a little too caught up in it all. But in the end, they went along with his decision.”

“What did you do?”

“I killed my friends. I went home troubled by all that Greg had said, and woke up the next morning with The Voice very emphatically saying, ‘
Run!
’ But I didn’t. All of Hillstrom’s mind control—if you want to call it that—kicked in. I really thought Greg was jumping the gun with his information. And frankly, it really sounded too ridiculous to be true, so my loyalty to Gary kicked in and I called his office from my cell phone when I was on my way to work and asked to speak to him. He was always very accessible, so I got through immediately.”

Her eyes misted over again.

“I tried to say it so Greg wouldn’t get in trouble. You know, talking about his enthusiasm for his research, and all that. But eventually we got to the part where Greg was going to the newspapers. He took it all in stride and thanked me for my loyalty. He assured me that Greg wouldn’t get in trouble, but also let me know what a serious blow to his credibility it would be if Greg passed it on to the newspapers. He said he’d go over to our office and talk to Greg and clear up the details he was mistaken about.”

“Did you go to the office?”

“Almost, but no. The Voice came again the minute I hung up. Again it said, ‘
Run! Now!
’ As it said it, there was a parking lot sign that read ‘Park your car here all day for $15.’ I don’t know why, but I knew it was a message, so I pulled in and parked my car and hopped on the Metro. I took it to the stop near the office. All of a sudden I was scared. I had all kinds of chatter in my head. The Voice wasn’t exactly saying anything, but it seemed frantic somehow. It was scaring me. So I got off the Metro and went into a Starbucks across the street from the office. I decided to call Greg and confess what I had done, but before I could call, I saw the four of them leaving the office with a couple of guys. They got into a car and that was the last I saw of them.”

I could see it was becoming a struggle to control her emotions.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I sat in that Starbucks for hours, watching the front of my office building, hoping I’d see my friends come back. But I knew they weren’t ever coming back. I just felt it. Finally, it had to have been mid-afternoon, I went to the closest ATM and took out a hundred dollars—that’s all I had in my account—and hopped back on the Metro to Union Station. I bought the cheapest ticket I could find to someplace as far from Washington as possible, that would still leave me with a few dollars. I ended up going to Charlottesville. Not very far, but at least away from Washington. I’ve been hitching since then.”

“When did you find out about your friends?”

“Late that afternoon. I was in a coffee shop having a muffin—it was about all I could afford—when I saw a police car pull up. Two Virginia State Troopers came in and ordered coffee. As they were leaving, they got a radio call telling them to be on the lookout for me. They actually named me. Do you have any idea what that feels like? Then they described me and called me a fugitive from justice, accused of murdering four people. Because they were members of a senator’s staff, Homeland Security was involved, so it became a priority. I heard later on a radio how they were killed.”

A thought came to me. “Well, there’s no doubt in my mind that you were set up.”

“Why?”

“If Hillstrom just wanted to get rid of those four, he would have had them killed and then hidden the bodies—sunk them to the bottom of the Potomac, or something. The fact that they were found so fast, and accusing you so quickly, tells me that this was set up to make you the fall-guy. Spreading the word via the police is the easiest way to catch you.”

It was getting dark and I was on the lookout for a hotel.

“The good news,” I said, “is that it sounds like you were able to skip town without them noticing, so we’ll assume they don’t know where you are. The bad news is if they are as powerful as you say, we don’t know their reach. But since we don’t have any control over that, we’ll stick to the things we do have control of.” I was trying to think of every spy novel I had ever read. What were the basics for getting lost?

“I left my computer when I said goodbye to my old life,” I began, “but I still have my phone. So we can go on the Internet to get more ideas on how to keep you hidden. But a couple of things come to mind. Do you still have your cell phone?”

“No, I thought of that—them tracing my phone’s GPS—so I smashed it when I was leaving Washington. I haven’t called anyone from anywhere. My parents are both dead, and I have no siblings. I still have my credit card on me, but I haven’t used it.”

 “I’ve got my credit card and cash, so we should destroy yours anyway, just to be safe—so you don’t use it by mistake. You’ll have to change your appearance. Change the color of your hair.”