Earthshaker

Chapter 31

Chapter 31Two hours later, we were hurtling toward West Virginia in the Highlander. A late start, but at least we were on the road before noon (just barely).

It wouldn't be a long trip, maybe two and a half hours, so we had a shot at getting the lay of the land around Rough Run in broad daylight. We could start the reconnaissance we'd talked about, set ourselves up to take action the next day.

As we charged down the road, I finally felt better. Felt like I was moving away from past mistakes and toward answers. Felt like I could handle whatever came my way.

At one point, I realized I was actually in "smooth sailing" mode. In spite of all the badness that had gone down lately, I had finally caught the upswing of my bipolar moodiness.

I had the driver's side window half down, the fingers of my left hand drumming on the roof of the SUV. The air was warm, the sun was shining. The scenery was beautiful—rolling green mountains and ridges cradling valleys of patchwork fields. Duke was playing great tunes on the stereo, a jazz symphony called The Afro-Eurasian Eclipse. I had hope, not only of finding closure for Aggie's death, but of finding the secrets behind my own life.

Somehow, in my heart, I knew I was going to find what I needed in Rough Run. I had a feeling everything was going to work out fine.

Then again, even as I felt like that, I remembered: the way I felt in "smooth sailing" mode did not always have any bearing whatsoever on reality.

We rolled into town around two-thirty and stopped at a diner called Late Jim's. Bought a newspaper, grabbed pamphlets from the rack out front, and got up to speed on the area. Filled in the gaps from our Internet research the night before.

"Here's a story about that compound," said Duke. "They're calling it 'Parapets.'"

"Parapets." I nodded and ate a French fry from my plate. A French fry dipped in beef gravy. Hadn't eaten much during the recent crises, but "smooth sailing" had brought my appetite back with a vengeance.

Duke sat in front of what looked like half a graham cracker pie but was in fact a single slice. "According to this, Parapets has local hunters up in arms. They've posted and fenced off some excellent hunting grounds."

"Not just excellent." A middle-aged guy in the next booth had been listening in. "The best. Buck, bear, boar, turkey, pheasant, you name it."

"And it's all off limits now?" Duke said it without turning to look at the guy who'd spoken. "No special permits?"

"Not a one." The guy snorted and stroked his brown walrus mustache. "They're not making any friends up there, that's for sure."

"Except the folks who have jobs at Parapets." A guy at a table across from us had been following the conversation, too. He looked older, fifty-or-sixty-something, with white hair and a wry smile. "They don't seem to be doing much bellyaching."

"The people who work there," I said. "What exactly do they do?"

"Sign confidentiality agreements longer than both your arms put together, for one thing." The guy at the table laughed. "Nobody's talking."

"Really?" said Duke. "Not even after a couple of beers?"

The guy at the table shook his head. "Parapets pays good money. Good enough to keep mouths shut. That's the only thing I do know for sure." With that, he wiped his mouth on a napkin, got up, and left.

"Asshole." The guy at the booth next to ours said it under his breath. Then scooted out of his booth and shot into ours, forcing me to move over. "Ray's an asshole."

On another day, I might have been pissed, but today was "smooth sailing." "So what's the real story, pal?"

"Call me Gut." He did have a gut under his olive drab khaki jacket, but nothing out of the ordinary. I wondered what the story behind the name must be. "I know a few things about Parapets."

"Like what?" said Laurel between sips of her banana milkshake.

"It's a messed up place, that's what." Gut whistled softly. "There's some bad s**t goin' on up there, my friends."

"What kind of bad s**t?" What Gut was saying appealed to me. Fell right in line with what I expected to find at Parapets.

"Experiments." Gut stroked his walrus mustache and nodded. "X-Files kind'a shit."

"Experiments on human subjects, you mean?" said Duke.

"Abductions and experiments," said Gut. "People have gone in there and never come out again."

"I see," said Duke. "And what do the police have to say?"

Gut thumped the table with the flat of his hand. "Nothing. All they see is what Parapets wants them to see. One big, happy utopia."

"But you know better," said Duke. "Why is that? Have you seen evidence of these experiments?"

Gut laughed and combed his fingers through his stringy brown hair. "You might say that."

"So what kind of evidence was it?" I said.

"Right here!" Gut spread his arms, nearly smacking me in the face. "And right here." He pointed at the wedding band on his grimy left hand.

"You?" I frowned. "You're the evidence?"

"And my wife." Gut jabbed his wedding ring with a fingertip. Voice brimming with anger and pain. "We were both abducted. They threw me back, but she's...gone. I don't know where she is."

"When did this happen?" said Laurel.

"Six months ago." Gut said it through clenched teeth, seething. "She's been gone for six months."

At that moment, the waitress came over with a pot of coffee. I'd noticed her out of the corner of my eye, hovering and listening from behind the counter. "It's terrible, isn't it? Just terrible." She looked like she was in her mid-forties, with freckles and short red hair. On the gaunt side. The name tag on her pale blue uniform read, "Corinne."

"Nobody cares anymore." Gut fished in the pocket of his khaki jacket and came up with a cigarette and lighter. "They say they do, but no one's doing anything about it."

"Lots of people care." Corinne touched his shoulder.

"We'd like to have a look around," said Duke. "Is there any way onto the property?"

"Nope." Gut lit his cigarette with shaking hands. "It's all fenced in."

"That's too bad," said Duke. "We might be able to help find your wife."

"Actually..." The diner was empty except for us, but Corinne still looked around to make sure no one was listening. She dropped her voice to a whisper. "I might know a way."

Gut glared at her. "You do? You never told me!"

"I didn't want you to go up there yourself and get in trouble. Maybe disappear." Corinne blushed. "Plus, I have to protect my source."

"Would your source work with us?" I said.

Corinne narrowed her eyes. "I don't know. I only just met you myself."

"I assure you, we are eminently trustworthy." Duke flashed his most winning smile, the one no one seemed able to resist. "We're private investigators, and we're working on a case. The trail led here."

"You think your case is connected to mine?" Gut said it through a cloud of cigarette smoke.

"I don't think it's a coincidence we ended up here," said Duke. "Will you get in touch with your source on our behalf?"

"I don't know..." said Corinne.

I realized I needed to help her make up her mind. "Our case is personal, too." I let a trace of sadness color my voice. "Someone killed my best friend."

Laurel followed my lead. "And my lover." It was the first time I'd heard her refer to Owen that way. Good for her.

"All right," said Corinne. "I'll see what he says. But I can't make any promises. It's up to him."

"Fair enough." I looked her in the eye and nodded. "Thank you, Corinne."

"It'll help if I go with you." Gut got up from the booth. "I hunted up there my whole life till Parapets took over. I know the damn place like the back of my hand."

Duke looked at me, uncertain. I shrugged. Gut seemed like a potential loose cannon, but we needed all the help we could get.

"Sounds good, Gut." Duke got up, too, and reached for his wallet. "Look, we need a little time to ourselves right now. How about if we meet back here tomorrow morning?"

"Place opens at six," said Gut. "I'll be here."

I winced. "How about seven or eight instead?"

"Six will be fine." Duke tugged two twenties from his wallet and handed them to Corinne. "Keep the change."

"Thanks," said Corinne.

Duke smiled and reached for her hand. "Thank you for your ineffable beauty and grace." He kissed her hand lightly. "What I've read about the breathtaking wildflowers of West Virginia was obviously not an exaggeration."

Corinne blushed and smiled. "Well, then." Cleared her throat. Duke released her hand, and she reached up to fix her hair. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"I'm looking forward to it," said Duke. "I think we're going to make beautiful music together."