Kyle's Modern Montana Bride (The New Montana Brides Book 6) (5 page)

chapter Nine

He Was Here

Kyle had no problems following the directions given him by the Sheriff’s Office. What he saw when he got there was appalling. The old farmhouse was dilapidated. The side of the porch had fallen in, and there were two boards missing from the steps. He hesitated before going further, but decided he needed to do it.

His knock was answered by a girl with dirty, stringy hair. Her dress was ragged and several sizes too large. She did not appear to be wearing a bra. She stood in the doorway, her arms dangling by her side, a vacant look in her eyes.

“Is Ray here,” he asked.

She didn’t answer.

“I’m not a cop, I promise. I’m just looking to talk to Ray for a few minutes,” he said.

She still didn’t speak, but turned and walked away, leaving the door standing open. Three minutes later a man came to the door. His hair fell in greasy strings to the neck of the sleeveless undershirt he wore. His pants hung low on his scrawny hips. “I’m Ray. Whatchoo want, Bro?” he asked.

“My name’s Kyle Thompson. I’m looking for my son. Would you take a look at this picture and see if you recognize him, please.”

Ray took the picture and held it in front of his face, moving it back and forth to get it in focus. He handed it back to Kyle. “He was here. Ain’t no more.”

“How long ago did he leave?” Kyle asked. “Did he say where he was going?” Kyle asked.

“Why don’t you just go back where you came from?” Leave the kid alone. He’s just trying to connect with his dead mother.”

“He’s my son. I just found out about him a few days ago. I’m trying to help him,” Kyle said.

“How come you know about this place, anyway?” Ray asked, his suspicions growing.

“I stopped at the Sheriff’s Office and they gave me directions.”

“Get off my property,” Ray said. “I don’t talk to nobody that has anything to do with the law.”

Two brawny men wearing muscle shirts and jeans came up. “He giving you trouble, Ray?” one asked.

“Yeah, the law sent him. Put him in his car and get him out of here.” Ray turned and went back into the house.

One of the men pinned Kyle’s arms to his sides while the other punched him in the gut several times. They picked him up by his arms and dragged him to the car and shoved him inside.

“If you come nosing around here again, we won’t let you off so easy,” one said.

Kyle started the car and drove slowly away. Out of sight of the old farmhouse, he stopped the car, opened the door and leaned out, and threw up his breakfast onto the dirt road.

It hurt to breathe, so he decided he had better go to the emergency room. X-rays showed he had two cracked ribs. “I don’t see any other damage,” the doctor said. I’ll tape them up. You’re going to be uncomfortable for a few days, but I think you’ll be okay.

Kyle was trying to get his shirt on when a deputy walked in. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked. Kyle described the events at the farmhouse.

“We could charge them with assault, but by the time we get out there, those two will have disappeared and no one will have ever heard of them.”

“Just let it go, deputy. I’m leaving anyhow.”

Back in his hotel room, Kyle’s pain was intense. The doctor had given him a prescription for vicodin to ease the pain. He took one of the pills and the pain began to ease. He sat on the side of the bed. He was angry and feeling sorry for himself.
What the hell am I doing here? I’ve flown hundreds of miles looking for a kid I’ve never met. I just got the shit kicked out of me. I should just pack it in and go home

He didn’t call Susannah. Instead, he took a small bottle of wine the hotel had put in the small refrigerator in the room.

The vicodin he had taken, coupled with the wine made him sleepy. He lay on the bed and fell asleep. He dreamed of the boy in the burning hooch again. As the flames consumed the boy, the building exploded. He sat up on the bed, and groaned from the pain in his ribs. In addition to the pain in his rib cage, he had a splitting headache.

A thought came to him. Susannah must be worried sick. He hadn’t called. He got his iPhone and keyed in her number. He let it ring until the answering machine picked up. He left a message, telling her he was going on to California, where the last call from Zach originated.

He filed a flight plan for Eureka-Arcata Airport. He got the weather, and preflighted the 310 which had been serviced as he had requested. Two hours after he broke ground, he landed at the Eureka-Arcata airport.

He rented a car and drove to the police department. He asked the desk sergeant for the officer assigned to missing children. An officer came in and introduced himself as Tim Corley.

Kyle showed him the photos. “Mr. Thompson, why are you looking for this boy?” asked Officer Corley.

Once more, Kyle explained the circumstances. Corley said, “Sir, would you come with me please?”

He led the way to a small interrogation room and asked Kyle to have a seat. “There’s no easy way to do this,” Officer Corley said.

“There’s a lake near here where the kids go to have drug parties. We found several bodies there two days ago. Looks as though they may have gotten some pure stuff and overdosed. One of them could be the boy in the picture. They’re in the morgue. I can take you there if you like.”

“Let me call his aunt first. I’ve never seen him before, so I don’t know if I could make a positive ID.” Kyle replied.

“Do you want to use our phone?”

“No, the caller ID would scare her.” He took out his phone and punched in her number. This time she answered.

“Where are you,” she asked. “You didn’t call.”

“I did call and I left a message. You didn’t get it? I’m in Arcata, California. Are you alone?”

“Of course I’m alone. What? You think I’m having a party or something?”

Kyle could tell she was angry from the tone of her voice. “Listen, I’m at the Arcata Police Department. They found several bodies near a lake where the kids hang out, and do drugs. The Officer says one of them could be Zach.” He heard the sharp intake of breath and the sounds of disbelief.

“I’m coming there. I’ll rent a car and get there as soon as I can. Wait for me before you do anything, please? I don’t have any idea how far it is or how long it will take me to get there, but I will be there. Please, Kyle?”

“No. Now here’s what I want you to do. I want you to pack a bag for several days, and then go to the Transient Lounge at the FBO, that’s the Fixed Base Operator. Ask a security guard if you need to. It’s not too far from the main terminal and there are signs. It will take me four hours to get there. I’ll come in to get you when I get there.”

“No, I’ll drive. I’ll need a car,” she said.

“Susannah, listen to me. I have a car. It would take you eighteen to twenty hours, stopping only for gas to get here. You’ll kill yourself if you try to do that. I’ll have you here in eight or nine hours. We can do this together. I want us to do this together,” he said.

Silence.

Susannah, will you do what I’m asking?”

“Yes,” came the soft voice, muffled by sobs.

“Susannah, I’m asking you the same way you asked me. Do you promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” She said.

“Good, I’ll see you in four hours give or take a few minutes,” he said.

He called the airport to make sure the 310 was serviced and ready to go. He filed a flight plan, did the usual walk-around, and climbed into the cockpit. Ground control gave taxi instructions and cleared him for a straight out departure.

Once airborne, he activated his flight plan and leveled off at his assigned altitude on the assigned airway. He checked in with the Oakland ARTCC, and set his transponder to squawk the required code. He set the auto-pilot and took out his iPhone, with full confidence he was under the watchful eye of a controller in the Oakland Center. He called his father and updated him on the situation.

“Good luck, son, and be careful.” His father always told him to be careful when he was flying. It was his way of coping with the hazards of aviation as they applied to his son.

“Always, Pop. Always. Did you tell Mom?”

“You know I did. Would you want to keep her in the dark about something like this? Me neither. I have to sleep in the same room with her, and there’s a .38 in the nightstand. Clear skies and smooth air, son.”

“I’ll keep you posted, Dad.

Three hours and forty two minutes after liftoff, Kyle was taxiing to the FBO fueling station. He told the attendant to fill the tanks and check the fluids. He walked into the terminal.

He walked over to the forlorn figure sitting in one of the chairs, staring at, but not seeing the television mounted on the wall.

“Susannah…”

chapter Ten

I’m Here

“Susannah, I’m here.”

Her head jerked up. She stood and moved into his outstretched arms. “I’m so glad to see you. When do we go?”

“The aircraft is being serviced right now. I will need a potty break, and so will you. There are no restrooms on the plane.

“You haven’t eaten have you?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Neither have I. The coroner’s office will be closed when we get back and will reopen at eight tomorrow morning; I have a room at the Marriott Residence Inn right on the airport. Let’s get a bite here, and then get in the air.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You’re acting kind of funny, What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Funny, how?”

“Do you always answer a question with a question? When I put my arms around you, you grunted, and you are walking like you’re walking on eggs.”

“OK, I didn’t want to pile something else on you. The police told me about a place called the Sugar Ranch. I went to see if Zach might be there. He had been there, but left a little over a week earlier. They had given me the name of the guy running the place, and I tried to talk to him. He told me to leave the boy alone, because he was just trying to connect with his dead mother. He ordered me to leave, and told two men to put me in the car and to make sure I left. One held me while two others pounded me.

“I drove to the emergency room, where the doctor ordered X-rays. There were two cracked ribs, so he taped them. In short, it hurts when I laugh or make sudden moves, but he said it will be all right in a few days.”

“Why don’t we wait and go tomorrow morning?” she asked. “It might be easier for you, and would only delay things a few hours.”

“I appreciate it, but I’ll be good to go as soon as I eat. It will probably be pretty sore in the morning.”

“I’m good with whatever you want to do,” she said. “Do you have anything for the pain?”

“He prescribed vicodin, but I can’t take it and fly. It might make me drowsy. Let’s get a sandwich, and get going.”

“Okay, you’re the boss,” she said and took his hand as they walked toward the small restaurant near the entrance.

“I’m the pilot, not the boss,” he said. She squeezed his hand in reply.

“What kind of plane do you have?” she asked.

“We have two, a single engine Cessna 182, and a twin engine Cessna 310. I’m in the twin, because it flies higher, and nearly twice as fast as the 182.”

“I’ve never ridden in a small plane before,” she said.

“You feel more like you’re flying than you do in one of the large airline busses.”

After they ate, he said, “Ready?”

She nodded, and picked up her small piece of luggage. “I’ve got it,” she said. “You can be a gentleman some other time.”

He led the way to the plane. After stowing her bag in the small compartment back of the cockpit, he took her hand as she stepped on the small metal step, and through the cabin door. Once she was seated, he did the walk-around to check the plane.

Back in the cockpit, he made sure she was properly buckled in, and started the engines. He called Ground Control and requested permission to taxi to the active runway. It was given; Departure Control gave him permission to take off.

He keyed his mic and said “4694 rolling.”

After they were airborne, he activated his IFR flight plan and received his clearance. Once at altitude, he looked at her and smiled. “What do you think?”

“You get a different view from what you get on an airliner. How long will it take us?” she asked.

“You’re not going to start the “Are we there yet” bit already are you?” he laughed and winced. “That hurts to laugh.”

“Then don’t do it,” she said.

“Did I tell you how nice you look?”

“No, I was so upset, I just threw myself together,” she said.

“Well, you’re a good pitcher. You look nice. “

“Thank you. I don’t get compliments very often.” She changed the subject. “How fast are we going,” she asked.

“You have the same instruments in front of you I have. The airspeed is in knots or nautical miles per hour. We have a slight tailwind so we get a little boost in speed. The other big dial is our altitude, it shows above sea level, not ground level. You have the rate of climb, and the little small airplane indicates the position of the wing. Watch it and I’ll dip the wing and you can see what I’m talking about.”

He moved the yoke to the left and she watched the small plane in the gauge move.

“Fascinating,” she said “How long have you been flying?”

“Since I was about fourteen. I soloed on my sixteenth birthday and got my private license at eighteen.”

“Did Ashley ever fly with you?”

“A few times. I don’t think she liked it very much,” he said. The radio squawked and told him he was being handed off from the Albuquerque Center to the LA Center. LA then handed him off to the Oakland Center.”

“This is really interesting. They keep track of exactly where you are, don’t they?”

“They do. We have an instrument called IFF that sends out a unique code. The Center’s computer ties it to a radar return and the controller sees a data block with all of our information. He controls us until we get within 50 miles of the airport, then we’re turned over to Approach Control. On the ground, we’re controlled by Ground Control. It’s comforting to know someone is always looking after us.”

The TRACON controller came over the speaker, and gave him wind direction and velocity and told him he was number three to land behind a Gulfstream on Runway 16L.

He greased the landing, and taxied to the FBO. He made the servicing arrangements and led the way to the rental car he had left in the parking lot some eight hours before.

It was a short drive to the Marriott Residence Inn. As they went inside, he said, “I’ll get you a room.”

“Don’t these rooms have two beds?” she asked

“Well, yes they do, but I thought you might be more comfortable with your own room.”

“There’s no point in spending the extra money. I’m fine,” she said. “I trust you.”