Wisdom Spring (7 page)

For a little while our lives were forgotten. No one was chasing us. Shadowy government conspiracies and memories of a lost child didn’t exist. It would all still be there when we emerged from our emotional oasis, but for now it was only the two of us.

Afterward, we laid there, completely exhausted. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, and woke up an hour later craving food.

“What time is it?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know,” Jess answered. “I don’t want to move.” She had her head on my chest.

I craned my neck and caught a glimpse of the clock. “It’s after nine.”

“Can we do Chinese again? I kind of missed out last night.”

“Yeah. Most Chinese restaurants are still open this late. Maybe someone delivers.”

I called the front desk and was given the name of a close Chinese restaurant that delivered. I called and put in a large order—larger than we’d ever be able to eat, but we just couldn’t decide. A combination of hunger and a separation from reality was guiding us.

The scent of sex hung heavily in the air. We took turns in the shower and were reasonably refreshed when the knock on the door came. Jess hid in the bathroom while I paid the man for the boxcar-sized delivery of food, and we quickly dug in, not saying much until we had at least quenched the worst of our hunger.

At eleven, we turned on the local news and were immediately brought back to the bad dream Jess’s life had become. Jess was the first story, and the news wasn’t good. In the thirty hours since I had seen her picture on the TV in the bar at the Marriott, her story had snowballed, catching the American fancy as only a story this sensational—as promoted by the news media—could. The cocoon of relative anonymity that we thought we were living in had broken open, and reality had emerged.

Newscaster:
“We start tonight’s broadcast with the Jessica Norton story. Federal authorities have announced that progress is being made in the search for Norton, sought in connection with the brutal slaying of her four co-workers, all staff members of Senator Gary Hillstrom of Massachusetts. Since the story first broke naming her as the suspect, hundreds of calls have come into the FBI tip line with purported sightings of Norton. While most have led nowhere, FBI spokesperson Michelle Carter announced at a press conference this evening that some of the information has proven helpful.

Carter said that Norton was seen taking a bus from Washington, DC, to Charlottesville, Virginia, the day of the murders. Trucker Wayne Henderson confirms picking up a blonde woman he says was Norton in Charlottesville and dropping her off in Atlanta.”

Wayne Henderson:
“She seemed really nervous and didn’t talk the entire eight hour trip. She kinda huddled down in the seat. A couple of times a cop or ambulance went by with their sirens on, and it definitely made her nervous. I was kinda glad to get rid of her in Atlanta.”

Newscaster:
Carter also said Norton was spotted two days ago in a truck stop off Interstate 20 in Texas with a man. Witnesses said she seemed emotional. While the witnesses couldn’t provide a description of the man, other than that he was white, authorities are hoping he will come forward with more information as to the whereabouts of Norton. No video surveillance was available from the truck stop. Meanwhile, a nationwide search for Norton, thought to be armed and dangerous, continues.

I looked over at Jess, who was staring at the screen. Finally she looked at me, fear in her eyes. I put my arm around her.

“You’ll be okay. I’m going to keep you as safe as possible. Even more than that, you’re going to have to trust in The Voice. It seems to be protecting you.”

“I know. This is just so surreal though.”

“Well, I’ve done a complete and thorough search, and I can assure them you are definitely not armed,” I said, hoping to break the tension.

It didn’t work. She looked at me with a fragility that was positively scary, then put her head down on my lap and started crying. A moment later she jumped up and ran to the bathroom, where she threw up. I followed her in and held her head the way I did when Karen would get sick. In fact, at that moment, she seemed as vulnerable as a child.

It was as if it had all suddenly become all too real to her. We both knew that if she was caught, the Hillstrom machine would never let her live. Or me either, for that matter. We were no longer far off the grid. They were closing in and would soon have us in their sights. She had every right to be sick.

Then it hit me. I cared about something again. Life was worth living, if only to protect Jess. It wasn’t fair that she was in this nightmare. She was a good person who had only been doing her job. I was aware that the chances of me being able to help her out of this mess were miniscule, but I had to try. As far as I could tell, my identity was still hidden, especially there being no video from the truck stop. And there was no word about the Burger King, so we may have caught a break there, too. I had to make sure Jess was never seen with me. As long as we could maintain my secrecy, we still had a small chance. A small chance of what, was the question.

After a while, Jess finally stood up shakily and headed for the shower, where she stayed for over half an hour. When she came out, she brushed her teeth and got into bed without a word. Shell-shocked is the only way I could describe it. I could hear her quietly crying into her pillow. I rolled over to put my arms around her, and while she didn’t object, she also didn’t respond.

*****

In the morning we repeated the now-familiar routine of getting her to the car, then me going back in to pay the bill. We started on our way. She was quiet, but not totally disengaged. I held off suggesting breakfast. Even though she had nothing in her stomach, I knew she wasn’t ready to eat. And since I was still full from the night before, I could survive until lunch.

An hour into the journey she turned to me, all of a sudden clear-eyed, and said, “Is there any relationship between Las Vegas and a circus?”

I laughed. “Yeah, Las Vegas
is
a circus.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“You really don’t know much about Vegas, do you?”

“‘Fraid not, why?”

“You’ve never heard of Circus Circus?”

“Uh, no.”

“Famous hotel and casino. Not high end like the Mirage or Bellagio, but still popular.”

“I think that’s where we’re supposed to stay. I was sitting here thinking of Las Vegas, when all of a sudden I flashed onto a circus tent. It felt more like a message than just a random thought.”

“Circus Circus it is, then.”

“I want to apologize,” Jess said.

“What could you possibly have to apologize for?” I asked.

“The way I shut you out last night. The way I just kind of shut down altogether. I know how much you’re doing for me. It’s not fair to you. I just feel like I’m in way over my head.”

“That’s because you are. We both are. We can’t let this guy beat us though. Yeah, the odds are against us, but nothing is impossible. And with that Voice leading the way, you just never know.”

“Every once in a while, I get a feeling. Hard to explain, but it’s a feeling of … I don’t know … warmth maybe? Whatever it is, it gives me hope. And I know it’s coming from the source of The Voice. I had that a few minutes ago, right before the circus image. I’m ready to face this. My life isn’t what it was, and I just have to accept it. I’m ready to go after this guy. You’re right. I don’t know how we’re going to do it, but we’ll just take it one step at a time.”

A minute later she said, “I’m hungry.”

I smiled. “That’s a good sign.”

As I looked over at her, I saw her jump, as if an electrical charge went through her body.

“Whoa!” she exclaimed.

“What was that?” I asked, ready to pull the car over.

“It was a message. I’ve never had one hit me like that. Wow! About as loud and clear as you could get. My whole body is tingling.”

“What was the message?”

“‘
Find Wolf Run.
’ Do you have any idea what it means?”

Chapter 7

“You okay?” I asked. Jess was breathing heavily.

“I think so,” she answered. “That was pretty intense, and it’s coming back in waves.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It’s starting to pass. I think I wasn’t meant to ignore that message.” She looked at me quizzically. “So does that mean anything to you?”

“Sort of,” I replied. “I mean, in relation to Vegas I’m definitely familiar with it, but at the same time, it makes no sense.”

“Umm,” she began.

I cut her off. “Yeah, I know. That was a little vague.”

“A little.”

“I’ve spent a fair amount of time in casinos. I was in sales. Sales conferences take place where people can drink and gamble in the evenings. Sales and gambling seem to go together. As a result, I’ve played a lot of slot machines.”

“And let me guess.” It was her turn to interrupt me. “
Wolf Run
is a slot machine.”

“It is.”

“So we find a
Wolf Run
in the Circus Circus casino and look for the clue.” She seemed proud of herself.

“Yeah, well, sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s where it makes no sense.”

“Why?”

“
Wolf Run
is a really popular machine. Do you have any idea how many they probably have there? And if Circus Circus is like any other casino, they won’t all be in one place. You might have a bank of three in one row, a bank of four in another, and then single ones spread out all over the casino floor. I just don’t get it.”

I added, “Which brings up a sort of related question. If your Voice is supposedly leading you to the source of Hillstrom’s secret, or proof of his guilt, why can’t he just come out and say it? What’s with all these friggin’ clues?”

“I know. I’ve asked the same question. Here’s how I see it: First, I’d venture to guess that communicating from the beyond—or from wherever it’s coming—is not an easy task.”

I gave her a “
how in the world would you know that
” look.

“Hey, I’m speculating here. How many conversations have you had with dead people? For some reason, it’s really important for this person … thing … voice … whatever … to communicate with me. All I’m saying is it’s probably not a simple thing to do or else everybody would be hearing voices.”

“Second,” she said quickly, before I could cut her off, “remember how we decided that it has trained me slowly to recognize it over the last year? This is probably a continuation of that. I have to pick up the clues gradually so it doesn’t overwhelm me. Like this last clue. Even a few days ago, to have it shock my body like that would have been too intense for me. Anyway, that’s my theory. She looked at me as if to say, “
try to challenge that logic
.”

I couldn’t argue it, so I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “that could be it. It would just be nice once in a while for The Voice to be specific, like ‘Go to Joe’s Bar tomorrow at ten and ask for Porky. Tell him The Voice sent you.’”

Jess laughed. “Hey, you never know. Another few weeks of this, and I might be getting that kind of message.”

“Not sure we want another few weeks of this.”

I instantly regretted the remark because it brought up the question in my mind: Would we be alive in a few weeks? I looked over at Jess and knew the same thought was going through her head. But she covered it well and quickly changed the subject.

“I was thinking about the cameras in the casinos,” she said. “Should we start planning how I’m going to get in without being seen?”

“Yeah,” I answered. “From what I hear, they also have state of the art facial recognition software these days, so that if they get your face on camera, all different kinds of agencies could tap into it.”

“I suppose I could wear a floppy hat and sunglasses.”

“Still risky. Eventually you’ll look up without knowing it.” And then I had an idea. “If you look like you’re trying to be anonymous, you never are. Those are the people who tend to stand out. But if you stand out in the first place, nobody really notices you.”

“Once again, your vagueness is impressive. And you were in sales?”

“Yeah, well, I never had to sell something like this. Anyway, a wheelchair. You pretend to be handicapped. You know how you often see a handicapped person being wheeled around by a relative? Like someone with severe cerebral palsy. You notice the wheelchair and then look away because you don’t want to stare. I could wheel you in and no one would really notice you. A floppy hat wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, and if you turn and kind of hang your head over the side, no camera will pick you up. They probably won’t even notice me because they’ll be looking away. And really, who notices the person pushing the wheelchair anyway?”

“It means you won’t be able to check in alone. There will now be someone connected to you.”

“Right, but once we leave Vegas, we can go back to the other system. Will they really flag me? I don’t know. Maybe I’ve just been extra cautious. Anyway, I could have been coming here to pick up a relative or an escort and take her out for a couple of nights. People meet other people in Vegas all the time. Hopefully it won’t register. It’s worth a try.”

“We have to find a store that sells wheelchairs. Bet we can find one at Wal-Mart.”

“If not, we’ll find a medical supply store. Can you look up Circus Circus on my phone and dial it?”

She did and in five minutes I had a handicapped room reserved. The advantage for us of Las Vegas falling on hard times was the abundance of rooms available. An hour later we found a Wal-Mart and I came away with a simple wheelchair for about $200, a floppy hat, and a blanket to add to the illusion.

“Do you feel like we are somehow mocking handicapped people by doing this?” Jess asked.

“No, my goal is to keep you alive. It’s as simple as that. And I don’t care what I have to do to accomplish it.”

She put her hand on mine and squeezed.

We discussed her upcoming acting job and by the time we hit Las Vegas, our plan was clear. Jess put on her hat and draped the blanket over her lap. A moment later, I pulled in to the valet parking at Circus Circus. I got out as the attendant approached and handed me my slip. He opened the door for Jess, and then took a step back. What he encountered was a small woman with her right hand contorted and frozen in place in front of her chest. Her head hung to the left as if she were looking for coins between the seats. The hat covered much of her head, so the attendant couldn’t see her face. If he could, he would have seen her eyes closed, her mouth fixed open, and some drool dripping down her lip. I was proud of the job she was doing.