Stranded (4 page)

“If you aren’t a sight for sore eyes,” Dylan cried as he wrapped Alex in a one-armed bear hug. Then he pushed him away and stared at his face. “Holy cow, what happened to you? Damn, man, you’ve lost weight!”

Alex laughed. “You try eating nothing but fish for three months straight and see if you maintain all that mass.” Dylan lived and breathed to lift weights and work out and he had the physique to prove it.

Dylan now produced the morning newspaper from where he’d apparently folded it into his rear pocket. “You’re all over the place, man,” he said, tapping the newsprint where Alex glimpsed a picture of himself and Jessica standing on the front lawn. He’d still had the beard when the picture was taken though he’d shaved it off later last night. He touched his smooth jaw and felt a little naked.

“I tried calling,” Dylan said, “and then I thought, what the hell, I’m going over there and see that loser with my own eyes. I can’t believe you walked out of those mountains. Are you really okay?”

Alex assured him he was fine. But Dylan’s next question was more difficult to answer.

“What happened? I mean, I imagine you are sick to death of being asked this question, but did you drive your plane into a mountain or something? The article didn’t really say.”

“I made some coffee for Jess,” Alex said, pouring his partner a mug. “Warning—it’s decaf.” They sat opposite each other at the counter. Alex drank the last of his water, and sighed. “I’m not sure what happened,” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“A lot went down all at once. The oil leaked out of the engine somehow and then the engine froze and I’d been flying all over hell and breakfast trying to skirt a weather front. I landed on a lake and the plane sank. I was hurt, and so that confused the issue, too. Pretty much end of story.”

“Pretty much beginning of story you mean,” Dylan said with a knowing look in his light blue eyes.

“Whatever, the point is I survived.”

“Have you spoken with the FAA about it? Given what happened to your buddies in Shatterhorn, we had our share of speculation around here after you went missing. There were some who thought your plane was rigged to crash. It seems kind of far-fetched to me, though.”

“I just don’t know,” Alex said. “I made a few calls last night. Someone named Struthers from the FBI is coming today. I’ll listen to what he has to say.”

“Well,” Dylan added, “I guess the important thing is you’re home.”

“No kidding,” Alex said with feeling. “Especially now. I found out last night that Jess is going to have a baby.”

Dylan’s lips curled into a smile. “That’s great news. Are you and she...well, I know things were rocky—”

“We’re going to work things out,” Alex said with no equivocation in his voice. He would do what he had to do. He would figure out how to show Jessica she was the center of his universe.

“That’s great. You’re going to be a daddy! That must be why she posted that comment on Facebook. I wondered. Wow, man, she must be so excited.”

“We both are,” Alex said, then asked, “What comment?” Hadn’t she mentioned something about Facebook the night before?

“She didn’t tell you?” He took out his phone and spent a minute getting to the site he wanted. “This is her page, but the comment is gone.”

“What did it say?” Alex asked.

“No big deal. Just asked you to contact her if you could.”

“What?”

“It just said that if you were reading what she’d written, would you contact her because there was something important you needed to know. It must have been the baby, don’t you think?”

Alex nodded as he adjusted his expression to hide how shocked he was by this revelation. Was that what she’d meant when she told him that she’d thought he was something worse than dead? That he was what—hiding? Did she really think he would run out on her like a coward?

“They didn’t replace you at work,” Dylan said as though unaware of the bomb he’d just detonated in Alex’s gut. “It’s been slow, so it’s been fine, but lately things are picking up a little. You know, the weather warms up and all the crazies come out. There was talk they were going to promote Kit Anderson but they haven’t done it yet. Chief Quill quit right after you disappeared when he was caught taking bribes. The mayor appointed Frank Smyth to fill the position until he makes a permanent decision. As far as I know, they’ve got you on the books as being on some kind of emergency leave.”

Alex made himself concentrate on the conversation. “I’m surprised the mayor chose Frank instead of you to act as chief.”

“Yeah, I was, too. But Frank likes the business end of things and getting his picture in the paper, you know what he’s like. He probably sweet-talked the mayor and that’s nothing I would do unless he was twenty, gorgeous and a she.”

Alex nodded. He didn’t know Frank all that well even though they’d worked side by side on occasion. Frankly, the new chief was something of an enigma to Alex. Touchy on one hand, egotistical on the other, never shy about tooting his own horn. It was hard to imagine him as the chief. On the other hand, Alex was grateful the guy had held open his job.

“You’re probably going to break Kit’s heart but he’ll live through it,” Dylan said. “I don’t care how many classes he’s been taking, I don’t think he could pass the detective test, anyway.”

They both turned as Jessica entered the kitchen. She’d wrapped a kimono around herself and Alex’s gaze immediately dropped to her midsection where he tried to discern a bulge. She smiled at him and his gaze flew to her face. “It doesn’t show too much yet,” she said.

He tried out a smile and wished they were alone so he could ask her about the Facebook thing.

“Morning, Dylan,” she said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “It’s good to see you.”

“Sorry to barge in so early. I just had to look at this guy with my own eyes,” he said. “I swear, I hate to say it, but I never thought I’d see him again.”

“It’s hard to believe he’s home,” she said.

Dylan turned back to Alex. “It says in the newspaper that you hurt your leg.”

“No big deal,” Alex said. “Besides, Jess has already heard all the gory details. Let’s not bore her with more.”

“Come off it,” she protested. “You’ve barely told me anything.”

“And that’s because you have more important things to think about,” he said as he got up from his stool and offered it to her. He suddenly realized he hadn’t delivered her coffee because he let himself get sidetracked by Dylan. Oh, well, there was always tomorrow.

“More important than your survival? I don’t think so,” she said.

“The fact is I did survive. Hey, here’s some good news. Dylan says my job is still open.”

She shook her head as she glanced at Dylan. “He’s in protective mode,” she said. “I may not survive it.”

“I’m not worried,” Dylan said. “We spend a lot of time driving around together. I’ll get sick of his stories by the end.”

“That’s true, you will,” Alex said. The phone rang and he added, “I have a feeling that’s Nate calling me back. I need to talk to him and it might take a while. Later, okay?”

“Sure,” Dylan said as Alex sprinted off to grab the phone before the answering machine came on.

* * *

“I’
D
BETTER
BE
on my way,” Dylan said. But he paused with his hand on the knob and looked back at Jessica. “I’m so glad things are finally working out for you two.”

Dylan was such a strong, physically honed individual that there were times Jessica found being in the same room with him a little overwhelming. She knew he was divorced, liked fast cars and dated a lot of younger women but never the same one for very long. It always seemed his romances started out hot and heavy and then tapered off.

“I know you’ve had a rough time the last year or so,” he added.

She really did not want to talk about her relationship with her husband, at least not with Dylan, so she smiled brightly. “That’s all behind us now,” she said.

He cocked his eyebrows as though he thought she was being very naive. Exactly what had Alex told him? Whatever it was, she didn’t want to know, but she could imagine. Hadn’t she discussed her struggling marriage with her girlfriends? There was no reason Alex shouldn’t have done the same. “Do you work tonight?” she asked.

“Not unless something terrible happens,” he said. “Knock on wood.”

“Then why don’t you come back around six o’clock. Bring along anyone from the office who’s free. We’ll have a little surprise party for Alex.”

“Do you think he’ll like that?” Dylan said.

“I think it might be easier for him to see people in an informal situation. He can bring everyone up to speed at the same time and not have to keep going over things.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Dylan said. “Why don’t you make it potluck. I’ll bring one of those veggie trays.”

“Okay. Tell everyone to park around the block and come in the back way through the garden.”

“You got it.”

After he left, she went in search of Alex. She found he’d closed himself in the den and what she could hear of his voice sounded low and guarded.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the den and seemed surprised to find her standing there.

“I take it that was Nate?” she said.

“Yeah.”

“I bet he’s relieved to hear you’re okay.”

He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, of course.”

“Did he explain things better than I did?” she asked as they started back toward the kitchen.

“He just gave me a few more facts. He talked about the B-Strong organization which was used as a front, stuff like that. And he says the authorities can’t place the guy who killed Mike as being in Blunt Falls last February.”

“Which means he must have had an accomplice here,” she said.

“Exactly. Nate says the FBI hasn’t found anyone, though. Oh, you’ll be relieved to hear the concern about a Memorial Day attack seems to be centered on Seattle, Washington, not here.”

“I’m not relieved about anything,” she said stubbornly.

He stared into her eyes. “Nate has had a hard time. That shooting at the mall really gutted him. He thought he should be able to save those kids...and then he was injured and in the hospital. The authorities are going to be hell-bent on finding out if my plane was sabotaged but even if it was, it doesn’t seem to me that it has a whole lot of bearing on the here and now.”

“But we don’t know that,” she said. She bit her lip and added, “I get the feeling you’re giving me the kid-glove treatment,” she said. “I can be pregnant and concerned about other things at the same time, you know. I’m pretty good at multitasking.”

“I don’t want to argue with you,” he said. “Just let me take care of this and you take care of our baby.”

“Listen carefully,” she said, her voice soft. “We drifted apart before, partly because our dreams of having children weren’t coming true. Now they are, but you’re using him or her as an excuse to push me away again. I don’t want to live like that, Alex. You have to let me share your life.”

“I know,” he said. “That goes two ways.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have to let me share yours, too.”

“I’m not the one refusing to talk about things,” she said defiantly.

He stared into her eyes and she had the feeling there was something he wanted to say. But he shook his head. He didn’t say it but it was as clear as day. He didn’t want to fight, he didn’t want to risk alienating her, but that’s exactly what he was doing.

She needed to think. “Are you hungry?” she asked him. “Would you like an omelet?”

“Sure. And maybe I could take you to dinner tonight so you don’t have to cook.”

“Let’s just stay in,” she said.

“Just the two of us,” he said. “Sounds cozy.”

Chapter Three

An hour later Alex came into the kitchen from the backyard where he’d been fixing a broken screen. As he paused to grab another Vita-Drink, he heard voices coming from the living room. A second after that, Jessica called his name.

A tall man with light brown skin and close-cut black hair stood in the living room beside her. He wore a very tailored dark suit accented with an equally sober steel-gray tie. His hand clutched the handle of a briefcase and to Alex’s eyes, he had Federal Agent written all over him.

“Alex, this is Agent Struthers,” Jessica said.

Alex offered his hand. They adjourned to the den where Alex once again told his story about the crash and walking out of the mountains. And once again, he had to face the fact that his memory of the minutes preceding the actual impact were hazy.

“I don’t know if the plane was sabotaged,” he finished. “I don’t see how it could have been. I plan on visiting the mechanic out at the field to ask him if he has any ideas.”

The agent, who had seated himself across the desk, thumbed through his notes. “You’re talking about Anthony Machi of High Mountain Aviation and Maintenance?”

“Yes.”

“The FAA, Homeland Security, the Transportation Department as well the FBI also spoke with Mr. Machi. Without any details of what actually occurred, he was unable to do more than speculate, of course. Now about the plane. It’s totally submerged?”

“Yes. Nate Matthews is a deputy in Arizona and a friend of mine. He suggests we fly back to the lake and dive on the wreck. We’re both certified and Nate’s Arizona fishing buddy is a diver with the FAA.”

“The FAA will raise the plane. You should get in touch with them before you do anything yourself,” the agent said. “You’ll need to pinpoint the exact location on one of their aerial maps.”

“I already called them this morning. I’ll go by later today,” Alex said as he slid a look over at Jessica. She was doing exactly what he knew she’d be doing: glowering. “I was going to tell you all this,” he said to her.

She looked away from him.

“There’s one more thing we need to discuss,” the agent said as he opened a different folder and perused the information inside. “First of all, you know about Mike Donovan’s notebook, right? The one your friend Nate Matthews found?”

“Yes,” Alex said. “Nate told me Mike kept the notebook to catalog his investigation into who was really behind the mall shooting. That’s why we were getting together that weekend. Mike thought he was on the trail of a conspiracy.”

“Yes,” Struthers agreed. “And as it turns out, he was absolutely right. Mr. Donovan had written ‘Seattle’ on one of the pages along with the name of the man who appeared to head the B-Strong group that supposedly ran programs for strengthening young men’s characters. There was also a date that happens to correspond to this coming Memorial Day. The current thinking is that something the Shatterhorn Killer set in motion is going to occur in Seattle in a few short days.”

“But the Shatterhorn Killer is dead,” Alex said.

Struthers nodded. “Which brings me to a recent development. As part of our investigation, we’re running a wiretap on a suspect phone in Seattle. I was contacted because this person received a call from a former employee of the Shatterhorn Killer. There was mention of a contact in Blunt Falls which is why it was called to my attention. Since you’re thought to have been a target of these people and the timing suggests your reappearance may have triggered the call, you need to be on the alert.”

“Someone who worked for the killer in Nevada?”

“As his secretary, yes. He disappeared right after the parade on President’s Day after destroying evidence. We looked for him, of course. There’s some speculation he was the driver of the car who struck and killed his supposed employer.” Struthers looked through his papers again and showed Alex a photograph of a bald sixtysomething-year-old man with a haughty look in his slate eyes. “While he was in Shatterhorn, he used the name William Tucker but we now know that was a stolen identity. We’re also pretty sure he shaved his head and isn’t really bald. We’re not sure what his part was or if it was pivotal. The fact he’s been in contact with a man assumed to be involved in a similar militia group in the northwest is what’s troubling.”

This time when Jessica looked at Alex it was with horror in her eyes instead of impatience. “How do you guys know it was the same man?” she asked.

“He referred to himself as ‘aka William Tucker.’”

“And in this conversation, they mentioned a nameless third person, someone here in Blunt Falls?” Alex asked.

“Yes.”

Jessica hugged herself. “Is this about money or something? What does someone here have to gain?”

“It’s not about money,” Struthers said. “These people work for ideals, not cash. And it seems to be bipartisan, as well. This is across-the-board terrorism.”

“We have an alarm system in the house and we’ll be sure to use it,” Alex said.

“Just be cautious. Our experience with this strain of domestic militia is that they use any means to make their point, no matter who they kill or maim.”

“And what about the threat of a Memorial Day massacre of sorts? Is that still on people’s minds?”

“Of course. This is the first national holiday since the killer’s botched attempt to gun down people at an Idaho parade on President’s Day. Now with this latest news of a contact here in Blunt Falls, everyone is gearing up to safeguard any festivities.”

“Blunt Falls always has a parade on Memorial Day,” Jessica commented.

He checked his papers again. “I see we’ve discussed this with the mayor and the chief of police, a Mr. Frank Smyth. Measures are being taken both here and in Seattle. Frankly, police all over the country are gearing up with extra precautions.” Struthers shook his head. “The truth is no one is safe anywhere until this current crop of lunatics is put out of business.”

“And are you any closer to accomplishing that goal?” Jessica asked.

“We look into every allegation and possibility. It’s like any war on terror—many of the victories go unheralded, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t significant. But malls and parades and both foot and auto races—anything where people gather in large numbers—are being watched.”

Alex nodded as he attempted to return the photo, but Struthers shook his head. “You keep it. If you see this guy, call us.”

“Do you want us to show it around?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” the agent said. “But tell people not to approach him, just to get in contact with the FBI. We don’t know yet if this man is dangerous or a loose cannon or what exactly he is.”

Alex put the photo in his desk, then walked to Jessica’s side and laid a hand on her shoulder as he stared into her eyes. It suddenly seemed totally irrelevant that she had somehow doubted his plane crash, that she’d written that damn comment on Facebook for the world to see. He couldn’t bear to see pain or fear on her face and he sure as hell wasn’t going to go out of his way to create more of it. “I would never let anyone hurt you or our baby,” he said softly.

She looked up at him. “Oh, Alex, it’s not me or the baby I’m worried about. It’s you.”

* * *

A
FTER
THE
AGENT
LEFT
,
Jessica insisted she needed to work on the test papers she’d brought home from school and promised to lock all the doors and turn on the alarm system. On a whim, he called his doctor who was also a friend. “I’ve been reading about your triumphant return,” Josh Woodward said. “Sounds as if I should check you out.”

“That’s why I’m calling,” Alex said. “I want to go back to work as soon as possible and that means I need a once-over from you. I know it’s Saturday, but is there any chance we could do it today?”

“Well, the clinic is open for free vaccinations this afternoon which means there will be a limited staff present. Sure, I’ll meet you down there in an hour. You’ll have to come back in the next week or so for blood work and any tests I might want to run.”

“That’s fine, Josh. I’ll see you in an hour.”

The afternoon was filled with steps toward reaching his goal of getting back to work. After meeting with the doctor, Alex braved the mall to replace the cell phone he’d lost during his months in the mountains, and to get a haircut. Then he took the doctor’s clearance to the precinct where he found the place running on a skeleton crew. Maybe crime was lurking on the threshold of Blunt Falls like the FBI warned, or maybe it wasn’t. The sparsely occupied office certainly seemed to suggest the latter.

He left his medical clearance on Chief Smyth’s desk, before calling Jessica to tell her he was on his way home. He was not going to fall into the old pattern of coming and going as he pleased, leaving her to guess when he’d show up. She asked him to stop by the store and that’s how he found himself peering into the freezer case of their local megamart. He needed something called Moonie Mocha Fudge Ripple. He was determined to find the exact ice cream Jessica had asked for as it was his first experience with the cravings of pregnancy and he didn’t want to blow it.

Of course it was chocolate, what else would it be? He finally found the right one and bought two. Then he added a couple of jars of pickles and some anchovies to the order, hoping she’d find that funny, hoping it would ease some of the tension between them.

He paused before going inside the house, determined that tonight he would be honest and clear with her. She deserved no less and, face it, unless he learned how to trust her, sooner or later she was going to walk away and not look back, and that thought was so terrible it made him ache.

He suspected anyone who had lived through years of trying to have a baby didn’t take a moment of pregnancy for granted, never assumed everything would turn out right. The worry was always there. He could see it in Jessica’s eyes and he could feel it in his own heart.

A minute later, he unlocked his front door and stopped short. A crowd had gathered in the room and they were all staring at him, all grinning. He was so flabbergasted to find his living room full of people that he couldn’t make sense of it. And then they yelled “Surprise!” at the same moment and the faces took identities—neighbors, fellow officers and friends from years before. Jessica approached and he handed her the grocery bag as the room instantly filled with music and noise.

“You didn’t really need this stuff, did you?” he asked.

“Not really. People were still arriving when you called so I gave you an errand. Are you surprised?”

“I’m stunned,” he said truthfully.

“I hope it’s okay,” she added, her brow furrowed a little. “Your family wanted to come but it was too far away for such short notice. They wanted me to tell you they’re coming to Blunt Falls right after Memorial Day.”

“I know. My mother called me twice.”

“You can’t blame her for being relieved you’re alive and well.”

“I realize that. And everything here is perfect,” he assured her, anxious to chase away her worry. So what if he would have preferred a quiet evening alone with her? He leaned down and kissed her soft cheek and people applauded, of all things.

“I like your haircut,” she added, then kissed his cheek and went to put away the ice cream.

He was flattered by the attention and uneasy with it, too. He’d never craved the limelight nor did he relish repeating his survival story, but he did it anyway, kind of moving into a rote pattern as people asked the same questions over and over. Was he injured in the crash? Had he known search planes were looking for him? What did he eat? How did he survive the snow and freezing conditions? How did he finally manage to escape and make his way to civilization?

And the hardest one of all: What was it like to be home?

The part with Jessica? As well as could be expected leaning cautiously toward great. The part where he’d learned someone may have wanted him dead and might even try again? Not so good.

As the evening wore on and people with younger kids returned to their own homes, Alex found himself in a group of his fellow officers, many of them in uniform as they had shifts to start soon or had just come off of one. Dylan suggested he and the other officers in attendance go outside and Alex wondered if his partner had noticed his discomfort indoors. He hoped not. He didn’t want Jessica to see it.

“Before we go outside, I want you guys to look at a photo,” he said and they all followed him into his den where he produced the photograph of the man Struthers said might be involved in whatever mayhem was brewing. “I imagine the FBI will share all this with the department if they haven’t already, but just in case, I wanted to give you guys a head’s up.”

“Smug-looking cuss,” Dylan said. “Who is he?”

“I’ll explain in a minute. Let’s go outside, okay?” Alex said, and tucked the photo back into his desk drawer.

The weather had deteriorated in the past few hours and the stars Alex so longed to see had been swallowed up by swirling ground fog that brought a sense of chilled dampness. Still, they settled gamely on the wicker furniture Jessica had somehow taken out of storage while he was gone that day. Obviously, she had not stayed inside with the alarm set or spent her time poring over her students’ math papers.

Kit Anderson was the officer who was going to lose his chance at promotion now that Alex was back and he was the first one to speak. “So, I heard you went into work today to make sure you still had a job,” he said.

Alex stared at the dark form of his fellow officer. The man’s deep voice was tinged with anger.... Maybe Dylan had underestimated how much a promotion meant to Kit.

“What did you expect him to do?” Carla Herrera said.

“I don’t know,” Kit grumbled.

“Just be patient,” she added. “Your turn will come.”

Alex studied his folded hands and took a deep breath. A cool breeze blew under the eaves, whisking away the smoke from Chief Smyth’s cigarette. The chief had arrived an hour ago with his very own newspaper reporter in tow. He’d posed for a couple of pictures with his arm around Alex’s shoulders, made a small speech about miracles and was now lingering long after the reporter had gone off to meet his deadline. The man was obviously lobbying for the job of chief to become his on a permanent basis. The glow from the end of a burning cigarette marked his location off to the side. The other officer present was a guy Alex just met. Hank Jones was a new hire and seemed to be on the quiet side.