Wrong Number (18 page)

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Authors: Rachelle Christensen

BOOK: Wrong Number
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The sun beamed down with only a few puffy white clouds, yet as she continued driving, the sunlight dipped behind gathering gray clouds,
and the deserted highway suddenly glistened black with rain. The wipers on the truck struggled to keep up, and they screeched across the windshield as the droplets of rain continued to splat with a million different beats. Then—as abruptly as it had started—the rain stopped.

There was a remarkable difference from the extreme flatlands of Nebraska to the high summit called Bald Mountain she was driving by now. A huge skyline of jagged black peaks took her breath away. The pine trees bordered the road at eye level and were green enough that Aubree could almost forget she was in Utah.

The signs for several overlooks and small fishing lakes kept her attention. She passed Mirror Lake, Butterfly Lake, Pass Lake, and drove over the Bald Mountain pass. She was thrilled at the sight of a sign proclaiming Christmas Meadows and could hardly believe her eyes as she noted that the white patches along the road were actually snow—in July! Bits of mist hung in the air like lonesome clouds, and Aubree reveled in the solitude of the mountains.

A tingling sensation in her chest brought her back to the present, and she knew Scarlett would soon be waking to eat. She thought about the times so long ago that she and her parents had traveled through mountains to go camping, she was certainly more carefree then than she was now. If only the FBI could find the enemy stalking her, she thought. She rubbed her tongue over her teeth, considering what Jason had said a week ago. He was convinced she knew something important about the crime. And maybe he was right. Maybe, hidden under nightmarish voices and restless nights, Aubree’s mind held the key to solving her own case.

Swallowing the idea, hoping to digest it later, she looked for the next area where she could safely pull off the road. A sign indicating a hiking trail and lake showed there was access for a trailer, and she pulled onto the dirt path carefully. There was only one other car in the area, and the morning dew still clung to the grasses growing haphazardly around the trailhead.

Aubree thanked heaven again that she was able to acquire her trailer as she relaxed into the cushions of the couch to feed Scarlett. She concentrated on pleasant thoughts of the road ahead and hoped she could find just the right campground to stay for a time and feel safe. Her final destination would be close to the source of those good memories she recalled of camping with her family.

She awoke forty-five minutes later feeling a bit of chagrin but shrugged it off.

“We’re making good time, and I’d much rather fall asleep with you than on the road,” she whispered to Scarlett. Aubree grabbed a few snacks for her and the baby, and after a quick look at the pristine lake, they were on their way again.

Once they left the rich forests of the Uintas, the drive became considerably less intriguing. The mountains opened up to flat, treeless plains, and there would not be another city to see until they reached Evanston, Wyoming, around lunchtime. They’d be there in less than an hour, but Aubree already felt eager to get back to more interesting scenery.

Her thoughts were on what to order for lunch when she glanced in the rearview mirror. A car was approaching rapidly. Aubree checked her speed to make sure she wasn’t impeding traffic. Her pickup held steady at sixty miles per hour, and she figured the other driver must be in a hurry. Luckily, the road wasn’t busy, and the car could pass her easily. Only it didn’t.

The maroon car edged closer until it was tailgating her trailer. It looked like there were two people in the car, and as they continued to cling to her bumper, Aubree panicked. Had they found her already? She hated that she didn’t even know what her enemy looked like. She wondered if she should tap on her brakes or just pull over—but then what if that was what they wanted her to do?

“Maybe coming through these back roads wasn’t such a bright idea,” she mumbled to herself. She glanced over at Scarlett, who was happily sucking on a teething ring, and knew she would do anything to keep her safe.

Another look in the rearview mirror showed that the car was still uncomfortably close. She could see there were definitely two men inside, but they looked older from a distance. Perhaps they were just some fishermen too caught up in a big fish story to pay attention to their bad driving.

After five miles, they were still tailgating her. Aubree slowed down to ten miles under the speed limit. Her hands shook, and she kept wondering if she should pull over or speed up. Then the car suddenly zoomed past her. The men didn’t even look her way.

Aubree almost cried in relief as she watched the car speed further ahead. She was angry at herself for getting scared. The faceless enemy
was her worst nightmare. That cackling voice from her dreams lurked behind every unfriendly male she came in contact with.

She felt unsettled again when she approached some construction just before Evanston. She imagined someone hijacking her pickup while she waited for the man wearing the dirty orange vest to twirl his stop sign back around like some kind of crazy dance prop. She willed herself to stay calm and mentally begged the sign to turn. Every large group of rocks was another hiding place for an enemy to hide. By the time she pulled into a gas station in Evanston, her nerves were taut, and her emotions were swirling out of control.

She fueled her pickup, paid cash for her gas, bought some lunch, and then pulled into a larger parking lot and retreated to her trailer. Aubree focused her attention on feeding Scarlett and took several deep cleansing breaths to relax her strained mental state.
No one knows where I am, not even Jason
, she thought, and she repeated it several times over. She picked up her atlas and consulted the map of Idaho again. She also looked at a smaller booklet with lists of campsites around the Bear Lake area. It was the same location she and her family had camped in, and the feelings of security and good memories had led her back. She only hoped it was the right choice.

An hour later, the old pick-up rounded a bend, and Bear Lake came into view. It spread out before her, a mass of cool blue reflecting the sky above it. As she drove down into the valley, Aubree noticed the large number of RVs, tents, boats, jet skis, and all kinds of recreational vehicles.

She drove past the south beach and continued to journey northward. The color of the lake was like a chameleon—changing shades of blue from deep azure in the middle to an almost turquoise hue near the beach. Seagulls dotted the shoreline, and the beach sand, rocks, and grasses mingled along the water’s edge. Bear Lake was so large it crossed into Idaho from Utah, and Aubree’s plan was to head to the Idaho border.

Driving past rows and rows of condominiums, an entire marina of sailboats, and more camping areas, Aubree smiled to herself. A person could get lost among all the campers, tents, and trailers, and that was exactly what she intended to do. Twenty miles later, she had still not reached the northern side of Bear Lake. She continued driving and saw signs indicating the small towns surrounding the area. Paris, Idaho, was
only fifteen miles away. Few cars traveled the road as she left the lake behind her and headed toward the tiny town.

“Here we go, Scarlett, only a few more miles now,” Aubree said cheerfully. She had selected a small, out-of-the-way camping area and hoped it would prove to be a good one. She turned left off the highway in Paris and navigated a dusty, washboard road. The five miles to the campground seemed more like twenty as she traveled the winding road at fifteen miles per hour.

Just when she questioned if she had made a wrong turn, she came upon the campground of Paris Springs. Tucked back into a remote area surrounded by a creek and river willows, the campground exuded peacefulness. She stopped at the self-serve reservation area and paid cash for three nights. Tucking the slip into her dashboard, Aubree hoped the camp host wouldn’t wonder too much when she asked to reserve a spot for the next few weeks.

The campsites formed a large circle, and Aubree drove about halfway around it before she reached site fourteen. She jumped out of the truck and looked for the best place to park so that her trailer would be level. The road had been graded and looked pretty smooth, so she pulled the trailer in and parked her truck.

The salesman had given her a tip sheet on how to park a trailer. She looked it over and then selected a few large rocks to put around the wheels. Following his other instructions, she set up her trailer for a “safe and enjoyable camping experience.” Then she took Scarlett inside and prepared their first meal in the Paris Springs Campground.

Rubbing the fatigue and worry from his eyes, Jason pulled up beside the green SUV in the grocery store parking lot. He felt exhausted after jetting to Omaha and speeding to Aurora—the last place he knew of Aubree’s whereabouts.

He climbed out of his vehicle and used a Slim Jim to break into Aubree’s car. He cursed when he saw the light reflecting off the silver phone on the floor. Slumping into the driver’s seat, he popped the cover off the phone and carefully removed the battery and transmitter. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since he’d begged Aubree to come to the safe house.

When the transmitting signal stayed in the same area overnight, he figured she had checked into a motel. He let the transmitter fall to the asphalt outside the door and then ground it to tiny shards with his heel. He’d underestimated Aubree Stewart. She’d abandoned this cell phone and broken all ties with him. She was on her own now. He stood and glanced around the parking lot, noting the small stores surrounding the perimeter. His eyes narrowed when he saw a bright billboard in front of a used car lot—“Revolutionize your summer vacation! Buy your RV, trailer, SUV, in under an hour!”

After a simple dinner of a sandwich Aubree had purchased at the grocery store, she tidied up the trailer and examined the contents of the cupboards. She had everything needed to cook several meals. Aubree felt apprehensive about using the little stove but figured she didn’t have many other options besides cooking over a fire.
Too bad I’m not a Dutch oven expert like Uncle Keith
, she thought as she rummaged around the miscellaneous pots and pans.

“I guess I’ll try something simple first, like eggs.” She tickled Scarlett. “How would you like eggs for breakfast tomorrow?”

Scarlett giggled and then babbled, “Ma, ma, ma, ma.”

Aubree changed Scarlett’s clothes and decided it might be a good idea to check out the campground. Trading her sandals for a pair of tennis shoes from her emergency bag, she scanned the area and then carefully locked the trailer door. The campground had a dirt road circling the area. She pushed Scarlett in a pink and blue umbrella stroller and smiled as her baby jabbered nonsense about the new scenery.

They walked around the big loop of the campground. There were several smaller campsites like hers and two that were much larger, with space for up to twenty campers. She suspected that the weekends would probably be busy. The campground was only about half-full, and she didn’t notice a camp host anywhere.

As they rounded the bend to return to their campsite, Aubree saw a sign marking a trailhead for Paris Springs. The path looked quiet and beautiful with the sun slanting through the quaking aspens that lined the grassy trail. She made a mental note to find out where the trail led and whether or not it would be possible to carry Scarlett. Her chunky
daughter was thriving, and Aubree knew she couldn’t hike for long with a twenty-pound baby on her hip.

Aubree’s thoughts returned to her current situation. During her drive from Nebraska, Aubree had gone over every detail she knew about the case in her head. Everything Jason had told her pointed to a chink in the FBI’s impenetrable armor. Someone from the inside knew a lot about her, and Aubree didn’t think that person was Miranda Olsen. It would’ve been too easy for Miranda to harm her while she was staying at the safe house in Los Angeles.

Aubree shook her head as she thought about the facts. Miranda was a pawn in somebody’s game, and the real players remained hidden with someone’s help on the inside. Aubree still felt that the voice of the governor of Nebraska was the same as the one she’d heard nearly a year ago, but she’d have to find a way to prove it before she and Scarlett could ever feel safe.

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