Burn District 1 (17 page)

“Why?” Miranda asked.

“You know my husband isn’t just Clarke’s PR man,” she said. “He’s in the intimate circle. I’ve been with the other wives and they are clueless. Phil Arndt? Look him up. Clarke murdered him in front of the other men. Ben, Clarke’s secretary Terry Kirkland, his body guard Ralph. There may have been others.”

“When was this?” Miranda asked.

“Last week. It’s gotten so bad that Ben wants to run. He’s afraid they’ll kill him if he tries to back away and now Clarke’s expecting him to do more. Our daughter goes back to college in a few days. We’re taking her, planning what to do. We have family in Canada.”

“What do you want me to do?” Miranda asked.

“I’m not finished. Last night, Ben came home frantic. They want you dead.” Miranda had a hot flash, but it didn’t scare her because of what Ed had told her.

“Do they want him to do it?” she asked, curious. Ben Adamiac seemed like a player, not a murderer.

“No, but Clarke told him to arrange it, made suggestions. They have scary characters to do the actual work, men who are paid huge sums of money.” Miranda thought for a second and decided she’d heard enough for now.

“Beverly, I appreciate the information so much. But we shouldn’t stay on the phone. Let’s make plans to meet somewhere. No more phone calls, nothing that can be traced.”

After they promised to meet, Miranda ended the call.

“I think I just lined up my murder,” she whispered as they left the library together. Ed was shocked.

“You think her husband put her up to having you call back?”

“I do,” she answered. “If only life were that easy, that the wife of a monster like Ben Adamiac would become our source.”

“What should we do?” Ed asked, flabbergasted.

“I guess I’ll meet her wearing a bullet proof vest,” she said.

***

It was a sad and horrible coincidence, the way it happened. The following night, Ed, Alex and Miranda got out after parking the car at the corner of Jasper Street, a part of the city where privileged young people came to eat and drink, crowds spilling out of trendy bars onto the pavement even in the cold weather.

“I never liked this atmosphere, even when I was young,” Ed said. The laughter resonated through the air, no thought of genocide among this group.

“You’re still young,” Alex countered. “I wasn’t in with the in-crowd.
My
friend’s hung out at Burger King.”

“I see her up ahead, the blond in the white coat.” Miranda’s heart rate doubled as Beverly Adamiac stepped out of the crowd. Suddenly feeling very conspicuous, Miranda slowed down.

“I’m thinking this is not a good idea, there are too many innocent people,” she said. “Let’s wait for her away from the crowd.”

“Let’s just go back in the van,” Ed said, watching the woman walking toward them. He grabbed Miranda’s arm to lead her away, Alex turned to follow, blocking Miranda’s body from the revelers.

“Wait!” Beverly called softly, but loud enough for those around her to look up at her as she moved toward Miranda. Then one gun shot rang out and a second. The crowd, along with Beverly Adamiac quickly dispersed, screaming voices telling loved ones to run. Alex looked over his shoulder, pushing Ed and Miranda toward the van as her blond head disappeared with the running masses.

“Someone’s down,” he hissed. “Get inside.” Looking back to the bar, the body on the ground, a young woman Miranda’s age. He tugged at Miranda’s bag. “Give me some identification!”

“What for?” she asked, dazed.

“Hand it over, quick,” he said. “Something without a picture.” Miranda riffled through her backpack and from her wallet got out an insurance card and library card.

“Everything else has my photo.” Waiting for the sound of sirens, Alex returned and knelt down beside the body, looking up to see if anyone was watching him. The area where a crowd of drinking young people stood a minute ago was now empty. He unsnapped the little shoulder strap purse, took her wallet out and slipped it in his pocket. He put Miranda’s cards in its place. The woman’s friends had abandoned her in death, but he was sure they’d return to fill in the gory details when the police finally showed up, if they ever did.

He got back into the van. “Well, you’re dead,” he said. “I hope it works.”

“What do I do now?”

“You’re officially in hiding. Until the truth is discovered, you won’t be showing your face. I want to stick her wallet in a mail box far from here.”

“Do you care about anything in your apartment?” Ed asked. Stunned, Miranda shook her head.

“Not really. My books, but there’s nothing there I can’t replace, if the world doesn’t end,” she answered. “I just thought of my parents.”

“Let’s tie up loose ends at the office, tell everyone to leave,” Alex said. “Then we’ll pick your parents up at home and they can run with us. What do you think Ed?”

“Sounds like a plan,” he replied pulling out onto the street. “I still can’t believe this. I mean I knew it was going to get worse, but not this fast.” They agreed with him, nodding their heads, shaken. Everything they’d warned their listeners of was happening.

“That poor woman. I wonder if the bullet was meant for me.”

“It’s no longer an issue because you’re already dead,” Ed replied. “Now we don’t need to worry about anyone killing you again. The drive through the empty streets solidified their position that life was changing faster than they thought it would, and for the first time, Miranda felt hopeless.

Chapter 16

The sun was just coming up over the mountains, a hint of red at the horizon with deep midnight blue and inky black reaching overhead. Stars were no longer visible, but the crescent moon was still shining. Closing the blinds, Steve Hayward slid out of his bunk quietly, the shallow breathing of his grandsons in the bunks across the aisle evidence of their sleep.

He’d had another nightmare; but this one included the boys. Usually his dreams were nonsensical, frightening visuals that included childhood monsters and memories of being torn away from his parents, or holding his wife while she lay dying, only to discover she was really alive but living with another man, or terrifying scenes from his tours of duty in the Marines, watching young men die while he stood by helplessly. Dreams in which living loved ones had a starring role were non-existent up until last night. Cold and clammy, he thought hot tea would help him feel better. He certainly would never tell anyone about the dream; a terrifying scenario in which a crazed army general stalked his family, kidnapping his grandsons and forcing them to commit atrocities seen only in the most horrific war theaters.

Forcing himself to analyze the dream, the worry and concern of day to day life at the camp was taking a toll on his wellbeing. The physical work was exhilarating and realizing the fantasy of having most of his family together in one place, and working for their benefit wasn’t the problem. Worrying about their safety though, that was the big one.

Occasionally his dreams were beneficial; one in which his daughter’s father-in-law dug a hole big enough to hold a storage locker so they could hide if the
enemy
reached Tulip proved to be a huge hit with the others, and Randy began digging immediately. They were looking for a storage container or two, and then Steve wondered about the feasibility of burying a fully contained trailer underground. They’d have everything they had now, sewer, well, electricity, but with six feet of dirt on top. A tunnel leading out to the ravine, which ran across the back of his property, could provide a means of escape in addition to a source of air. Everyone was excited about it because it meant safety from bombs. Listening to his eight year old grandson converse about bombs was heartbreaking, but when Steve mentioned it to Laura, she laughed him off, pointing out that Ned was no longer frightened, living the nightmare was making it tolerable even for a little boy.

Quietly putting the teakettle on, he needed down time from constant worry and from Kelly. Finding a trailer for her was the solution, but he had to implement the idea with finesse. She was a great gal, but although their relationship was a friendship only, it was draining because of what it seemed to mean to Laura. The last time he had any intimate conversation with his daughter was the day she’d arrived, when they sat together around the campfire. It was difficult to be around her now without Kelly always popping up to join in the chat. He’d have to be strong and ask her to allow him a little time with Laura. Maybe he’d just tell her he wanted to spend some time alone with her. “Don’t ask, you knuckle head,” he said to the air. “Just tell her.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” A small voice from the master bedroom; Kelly took it over after Randy and Carol moved out.

“It’s just an old man having a moment,” he whispered to her. “Come on out and have tea with me.”

Pulling on a sweatshirt over flannel pj’s, the desert was cold at night and Kelly dressed for comfort, not seduction. She went into the bathroom first, and Steve could hear water running and teeth brushing. Dragging out their relationship was working for Kelly. As she was getting to know Steve, she realized the age difference
did
matter; he was so a man in his late fifties, trying to avoid topics that were too emotional, wanting to talk about his late wife and the years he spent in the Marine Corps and in return, not all that interested in her boring little life. And after the first kiss on the first night, he’d never approached her again. But Steve had a refreshing positivity that she was growing to admire. They’d probably never be a couple; he was just a really nice man. Somehow, Kelly had to convey to Laura that she and Steve were friends only.

He was waiting for her with a cup of tea when she came out of the bathroom, making it just the way she liked with hot milk and sugar. “If I stay up, I’ll have to take a nap later,” she said, sipping tea. “What’s on the agenda today?”

Looking through the window over the desert, there was just enough light to make out a kit fox mother with two youngsters. Sighing, he pulled his eyes away from the view. As much as he loved it there, they were going to have to make a decision soon about what their next step would be.

“We need to have an alterative plan. ‘Woe to those comfortable at Zion.’”

“I don’t get it,” she said, frowning.

“It’s from the book of Amos,” Steve explained.

“I guess I didn’t listen in Sunday school,” Kelly stifled a yawn, preparing for another story.

“The Israelites hung around for three years, complacent, thinking their vantage point was impenetrable. But they were wrong and the shit hit the fan when the Assyrians took the city.

“I feel like that now. Like our junk-wood fences and junker-car barriers can’t protect us. Outlaws are merciless.”

“You want to leave the camp?” she asked, frightened.

“I’m not alone. Mike’s been talking about going back to Pennsylvania ever since we got here, just to see if anything’s left.”

“He’d leave Laura and the kids? I find that difficult to believe.”

“You’d be safe here with Randy,” Steve said. “Everyone knows how to shoot now. You’re a better shot than Mike, but don’t tell him I said that! I’ll deny it.” Kelly smiled at him. It was one thing to be a good shot at a target, another all-together, protecting oneself from murderers.

“Well, if you’re asking me, I say you shouldn’t go. At least not all the way back to Pennsylvania.”

“We can get there in a day if we don’t stop.”

“Yes, if nothing else happens to you. What will we do if you’re murdered on the way?” Kelly felt her temper growing. One of Steve’s methods of communication was to shake things up when he didn’t intend to do what he was proposing.

“Okay, take it easy,” Steve said, smiling. “No one is getting murdered. This entire conversation is probably a waste of breath.”

“What was my original question?” Kelly asked, confused.

“You asked what was on the agenda today,” Steve answered, chuckling. “I said I was going to talk to Mike regarding what we should be planning for next.”

“Okay, well how about working in the garden across the street? Forget any trips back to hell.” Steve got up to reheat the water.

“We’ll see. It won’t work for us not to know what’s going on beyond our camp. Eventually it will come back to bite us in the rear.” Rustling and then laughter came from the bunks.

“Grandpa! Ha! You said
rear
,” Junior yelled. The boys were awake. Kelly slid out of the dinette. Worthwhile conversation was impossible once the boys joined in.

“Come out, you two. I’ll make you pancakes. But you have to promise not to tell the others I cook.”

“We won’t. Junior almost slipped and told Mom you made us grilled cheese yesterday,” Ned said, giggling. “I told him to be quiet.”

“Yes, well thank you,” Kelly said. “We don’t want that to get around.” Steve smiled.

“I’ll get in the shower first today, if you’re sure you don’t mind taking care of breakfast.”

“Why would I mind? It’s not even seven in the morning yet. I plan on going back to sleep as soon as these two are fed.” She got the pancake mix out and added water. That was easy enough. It was getting the butter melted in the pan without burning it, or preventing the smoke alarm from going off. The boys had laughing hysterics the first time it happened.

“Pipe down if you ever want me to cook for you again,” Kelly admonished that day. Slowly, she was becoming important to the boys, and they to her. The girls already couldn’t make a decision without conferring with Kelly first. If only their mother was as forgiving as they were loving. She knew the difficulty between Laura and her would come to a head soon enough and she didn’t want to precipitate it. All good things would come in time.

***

While the day began for Kelly and Steve, Chris Monroe, trying not to eavesdrop from his berth in the front of the rig, was ready to move on too, hearing what Steve said about wanting to find out what was happening in the world.

If Elise hadn’t been with him the day he left camp, he’d have continued through Yuma. As soon as Steve came out of the shower, Chris was going to approach him about going along on an information gathering expedition. Getting through to the other side of Yuma where his parents had a hanger and landing strip, he hoped that a plane survived. The best way to find out what was happening in the world was to fly above it. While he’d been in the desert with Elise and her family, he’d never seen or even heard a plane overhead, the omission unsettling.