Jessica
When I checked again a half hour later, the van was still there. I could barely make out the vehicle’s interior. Then I remembered Fred’s binoculars. He’d left them here after our last hike through the woods. I ran for the closet and pulled them off the upper shelf. With the lights off, I took a chance that no one would notice if I moved the blinds just enough to get a clear view through the binoculars. I trained them on the van and saw . . . an empty interior.
Okay, so the front seat was empty. Someone could be in the back. Or the person who called me could just be crazy.
I continued to check on the van every fifteen minutes or so. It never moved. And I saw nothing to suggest it was occupied.
“This is nuts,” I said.
As I stored the binoculars, it hit me that I still hadn’t heard back from Fred Barkin. He had promised me information I needed to confirm a few details for the book. I dialed Fred’s number. Went to voice mail. For the third time in two weeks. Weird.
“Hi, Fred. I’m calling again to try to set up a time to meet with you.” I paused, not sure what else to say. “Just call when you get a chance, okay?”
A mutual friend introduced me to Fred after I’d explained that I needed advice from a geology expert. Fred was very helpful because he knew people and things that helped provide background for the book. After meeting to discuss some of the finer points I needed to cover, Fred asked if I would be interested in taking hikes with him in the foothills.
It was during these walks that I got to know Fred as a person. He was not only a geoscientist, but he was a nature lover, through and through.
A couple of weeks back, I got an email from Fred, insisting we meet to talk about something he’d learned. He’d said it was important and should be discussed face-to-face.
I picked up a paperweight Fred had given me the last time I saw him, after a camping trip he and a few friends took to Yellowstone. I shook the clear plastic half-globe, causing the snow to swirl against the backdrop of high peaks and green trees within it, a moose standing in the foreground.
“Since you couldn’t come with us, I thought I’d get this for you,” he’d said, blushing a bit. This small gesture seemed like the act of a little boy presenting an apple to the teacher. I told him I’d keep the ornament on my desk, and he’d seemed genuinely pleased.
I always felt like Fred had things on his mind but could never spit them out. I wondered what that was all about. Now, this business with the unreturned phone calls worried me. If something bad had happened, I expected that one of our friends would tell me. So why was he avoiding me?
I set the paperweight down and watched the snow slowly settle. It took my mind off the craziness with the van and the phone calls for a short while. But my thoughts turned back to them.
Forget it. It’s ridiculous. Whoever called you is just nuts.
>
I had to relax, so I made myself a cup of herbal tea. I backed up my files onto an external hard drive and shut my computer off. Checked out the window again. The van was gone.
I exhaled. It felt like I’d been holding my breath for the past hour.
My hunger had returned with a vengeance, so I made some toast, gobbled it down and rinsed the plate and knife quickly, filling the scorched frying pan with soapy water and leaving it to soak overnight.
“I knew it was nuts,” I muttered, padding off to get ready for bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jessica
The next morning, I rose before dawn to take another crack at the story. I made a fresh pot of coffee in my French press and downed a quick bowl of Wheaties while checking email. Just for the hell of it, I peeked out the window again. Still no van. Good. I scrubbed out the pan in the sink and topped off my coffee before opening my word processing program.
Alexis
Alexis couldn’t believe she was going anywhere with Swede. She had sworn she would never talk to the man again, let alone travel with him.
I must be losing my mind.
But what he told her had scared her. Swede actually seemed to believe that her life was in danger from these people who were looking for the research he and Daniel had conducted. Research so secret and dangerous, he still wouldn’t tell her about it.
Alexis stared out the passenger window of Swede’s rented compact. She’d wanted to take her own car, but Swede was afraid they’d be followed. She had tossed a few bare necessities into a paper bag and, at Swede’s insistence, disguised herself as best she could by wearing a hoodie, under which she tucked her hair. It had started to rain, providing the perfect excuse for Swede to dash for the car with his jacket over his head. He’d pulled the car up to the building, and Alexis had jumped in.
“I can’t believe you brought a laptop,” Swede said.
“I’ve been working too hard on this thesis to just leave it behind,” Alexis snapped. In a forlorn voice, she added, “Who knows when I’ll be able to go home again?”