Cache 72 (A Jaxon Jennings' Detective Mystery Thriller Series, Book 2) Page 3

  The bartender flipped him off.

  The door closed behind him and he stared at the sky as the adrenalin pumped through his body.

  “Assholes,” he mumbled to himself. He hated violence. Unfortunately, his old job, and sometimes his new, required a certain level of it.

  He sat in his car and pulled the note from his pocket. Plugging the lat/longs into his phone’s GPS app he saw that the new waypoint was somewhere in Orange Park. Right off of Kingsley Avenue. At least it was registered in the system. Then he moaned. It was one of those Power Run caches.

  Power Run caches were meant to be found rapidly in a sequence. It could involve as few as ten separate points or as many as two thousand. They were usually very easy to find and close to the road so they could be logged rapidly, the cacher building up a large number of locations quickly, usually within one day.

  He pulled the associated cache locations up on the app and saw that they numbered twenty. At least it wasn’t a hundred. They started at the beginning of Kingsley Avenue where Kingsley and US17 intersected, and ended at Kingsley and Blanding Blvd. A three mile run.

  He thought about just going to the last waypoint and seeing what clue was left behind, but what if the psycho gave the next hint somewhere in the middle of the Power Run? He would miss it and lose precious time backtracking. Or maybe he would gain time by jumping ahead.

  Jaxon tried to put himself into the mind of this idiot and think like him or her. The outcome was the goal here, not the game, and if he could make some shortcuts or think ahead, he might actually have a chance at saving Bethany Hope. If he played by the rules, Bethany would probably die. He needed an advantage.

  Jaxon stopped at the first Power Run spot and found nothing. He wanted to make sure just in case. He bypassed the others and went straight to the last one. It was in a parking lot with a Burger King and a Lowes.

  The cache was probably attached magnetically to a light pole in the lot and Jaxon concentrated on the closest one. Sure enough, a magnetic box was stuck to the side of the nearest light pole and he popped it off. Inside was the log so he wrote his cacher’s ID, Jaxon, and logged the find in the app on his phone. He looked over the little box again and found some number scratched into the plastic just next to the magnet on the underside. It looked fairly new.

  He had been right. The prick was not very smart. He wrote the lat/long down and then entered it into his GPS. It was two miles away in a neighborhood. It was not a registered GeoCache site.

  Jaxon looked around the lot trying to find anything that would give the perp a clue he had been here. There was a DMV traffic cam on the corner of Kingsley and Blanding and he waved at it. A rider on a bike waved back, mistaking the wave for him. Jaxon ignored him. It was 1:00 in the afternoon. Sixty-nine hours to go.

  CHAPTER 5

  69 HOURS

  Gil Fowler sat in his porch swing and chugged his beer.

  He stared at the playground across the street from his house and watched. Specifically, he watched the rocking pig that sat on a huge spring in the center of the playground. It wasn’t that it was terribly exciting or interesting to watch, but he needed to see. He wanted to know.

  Gil was a diehard GeoCacher and at twenty-seven had found just about every cache that had been hidden in and around the Jacksonville metropolitan area and surrounding counties. He was kind of a legend in the local GeoCacher circles and if there was such a thing as a king of the cacher geeks, he would be it.

  That’s why the pig bothered him. The cache that was hidden there was one he had not been aware of until a few days ago and if there was one thing he was proud of, it was the knowledge of all the caches in the area. Something was definitely odd.

  He pulled another beer from the Styrofoam cooler next to him and popped the top. He drank half of it in a swallow and stared at the pig. Melanie, his girlfriend, came out of the house and plopped her nice ass next to him on the swing, pulling a beer from the cooler. She sipped it slowly.

  “How long are you going to watch it?” she asked. She set the beer down next to her, pulled her long brown hair into a ponytail, and secured it with a band. Gil knew she liked it pulled back when it was hot, but he liked it down. It was sexy down.

  “As long as it takes,” he said and turned back to the pig.

  “Why don’t you just let it go?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  He looked at her and then looked back at the pig. “I just can’t.”

  “It’s not that important.”

  “Something is up,” he said and took another pull on the beer. He was starting to get a buzz and that made the pig watching a little more bearable.

  “Have you called Ned?”

  “No.”

  “He might know.”

  “He won’t.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “If I don’t know, then he won’t know.”

  She rolled her large dark eyes at him and sipped the beer. She squeezed a little closer to him and put her hand on his thigh. It was warm and the weight of it had just the right effect. She apparently knew it would. She had a tiny smile on her lips and he wished she would find something else to do. He didn’t want to be distracted, no matter how or why, and she was starting to distract him. He was about to say something that would really piss her off, when a car pulled slowly up to the playground and parked in front of it. A tall guy dressed in camo stepped from the vehicle and looked around. He saw them sitting on the porch and then his gaze moved on. It stopped at the playground.

  Gil watched the guy pull something from his pocket. It was a cell phone and if he had to guess, he was sure the guy was using the GPS built in to it. Melanie squeezed his thigh and whispered, “Is he what you’ve been waiting for?”

  “Shh,” he said and stood up to get a better view.

  When another car had pulled up three days earlier and a big guy got out with a GPS, he had watched him place the cache and then drive away. Gil had expected the cache spot to show up on the websites shortly afterward, but when it hadn’t, he went over to the pig and pulled it out.

  There were a set of lat/longs in the little magnetic box and he had plugged them into his GeoCache app on his phone. They were for another location across town and this did not register on any of the GeoCaching sites either. Something was going on. So he had waited and now it looked like he might get an answer.

  The guy looked around and headed for the swing set.

  “Rookie,” Gil mumbled, stepping down off of the porch and heading for the park. He heard Melanie follow behind him. He walked up, stood at the edge of the park and watched. The guy hadn’t noticed him yet. As the man bent to look under the slide, he caught sight of them and stood up.

  “On a treasure hunt,” he said and stooped again to the slide.

  “I know,” Gil said.

  The man stood up straight and put his hand to his brow to block the glare. He was bigger than Gil first noticed and the muscles in his arm bulged as he used his hand as a visor. His hair was mostly brown with a little gray at the temples.

  “You two GeoCache?”

  “I do,” Gil said. “She just tags along.”

  He looked around and then said, “How’d you get here? I don’t see your car.”

  “I live right there,” and Gil pointed to the house.

  “Oh. So you know this cache?”

  “No. That’s what’s bothering me. It doesn’t exist…yet…but I’ve seen another guy here and now you. I know a cacher when I see one.”

  Gil stared as the man walked toward them. He looked a little excited.

  “You saw the guy who placed the cache?”

  Gil nodded. He wasn’t feeling so sure now about all of this. Maybe he and Melanie shouldn’t have told him where they live. Who knew what these people were up to?

  “How long ago?” the guy said. “What’d he look like?”

  “Three days ago. He was big, about your size. Wore a windbreaker in the summer. I saw hi
m put the cache there and do something to his GPS. Weird that it hasn’t shown up on any of the caching sites.”

  “I know.”

  “So, if it isn’t on any of the caching sites, how do you know about it?” Gil asked and watched the man’s face change.

  “I found the lat/longs at another site and I’m following the path.”

  Gil nodded. He could tell the guy was lying. “I don’t believe you, mister.”

  Melanie stepped next to him and took his hand in hers. She was scared. He could tell.

  The man looked around as if trying to decide something. He seemed to make up his mind and he took another couple of steps closer. He was now standing three feet away. He looked tense and mean, his blue, penetrating eyes locked onto Gil’s. Gil felt for sure the man could probably see through any lie.

  “Listen,” the guy said, “I can’t go into it with you guys. Just believe me it’s very important I find the cache.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  “Are you in some kind of trouble?” Melanie asked and her voice surprised Gil.

  “Not like you think. Someone else is in a lot of trouble.”

  Gil pulled out his cell phone and made a show of using it.

  “I’m calling the cops right now,” he said and pushed a few buttons. He had no real intention of calling them, he just wanted to see what the guy would do.

  The man held up his hand and pulled something from his back pocket. It was a wallet. He opened it so they could see. Gil studied the badge and some kind of ID. It surprised him.

  “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t bother my brothers here in town. No need to involve them.”

  Gil lowered the phone and turned to Melanie. She shrugged.

  “Maybe we can help you, Mister, uh…Jennings. I’m pretty good at this caching shit.” He could feel Melanie nodding her head next to him.

  “Jaxon,” he said, “and if you know where this cache is, that would be all the help I need. I’m kind of in a time crunch.”

  “The pig,” Gil said, and for a second Jaxon looked confused. Then he turned and spotted the ride and headed for it. He found the magnetized cache in a few seconds. He held it up and smiled. “Thanks.”

  “No problem, Jaxon.”

  Gil watched him open the cache and study the slip of paper inside. He creased his brow, then pulled his phone out and punched in the numbers. He pocketed the cache and turned to go.

  “You’re going to need our help,” Gil said.

  Jaxon shook his head. “Not your responsibility,” he said. “I got this.”

  “I don’t think you do. I think you’re a noob at this and you’re going to blow it.”

  Jaxon studied him and then shook his head. “I can’t involve you,” he said. “It’s too risky.”

  “Let us be the judge of that.”

  “I’m not worried about you,” and he slipped inside the car, started the engine, waved, and was gone.

  Gil turned to Melanie. “Something big is going on.”

  “You heard him. It’s too risky.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “He’s gone, anyway.”

  “But I know where he’s going.” Gil pulled out his GPS and showed her. “I already loaded the position into my machine. I’ve even been there.”

  “When?” she said and smiled.

  “Two days ago.”

  “What was there?”

  He must have frowned for she creased her brow in concern. “Nothing,” he said. “The spot was empty.”

  * * *

  Jaxon pulled out of the neighborhood and called Victoria. She answered on the second ring.

  “How’s it going?”

  “It’s not,” he said. “This is a wild goose chase.”

  “Did you think it would be easy? This guy’s a psycho, remember?”

  “Or girl.” He could feel her smile even through the connection. “And no, I didn’t expect it to be easy. I was just hoping.”

  “Hope—police work—they don’t go together.”

  “Yeah. I know. We have to find some way to get ahead of him. It’s just like in Virginia. We keep playing by his or her rules and we’re going to lose.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m here. I got some info. All the Bethany Hopes in the area checked out. They all are accounted for.”

  “That’s a help?”

  “It’s a start. At least we know it’s not somebody local.”

  “I take it you’ve expanded the search?”

  “Yes, and I’ve got a hit.”

  “Where?”

  “Savannah. One Bethany Anne Hope of 273 Brookville Ave. in Savannah, Georgia, has not been home in three days and does not answer her cell or home phone.”

  “Any more info?”

  “She’s a twenty-seven year old secretary working for a local law firm. She’s been employed with them for the past five years, is a good employee and has never missed a day according to her boss. They are concerned about her.”

  “I bet.”

  “There’s more. The law firm is Juliano, Juliano, and Anderson.”

  “Great.”

  “Yeah. The only law firm in the area that represents the mob’s assets here in Florida.”

  “Could she have pissed somebody off?”

  “It’s a possibility. But why go to all the trouble? Why not just take her out?”

  “Good question. Maybe they’re making an example of her.”

  “Better than the first theory, but still, why not just take her out? Seems like an awful lot of trouble to play these games.”

  Jaxon sighed and said, “I’m at a loss. At least we have something. You did great. Can you keep digging?”

  “Of course. When do you want me to join you on the hunt?”

  “I don’t know if I do. You’ll be more help to me where you are.”

  “Are you sure? You know my talent is in the field.”

  “I know, but I have no one else right now. You ok with that?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “I got some info on the web cam. Do you want to know about it?”

  “Ok.”

  “The IP address is located here in Jacksonville, but it’s at a local slot bar/web café.”

  Jaxon knew of the places. They were scattered all over the state and any mom and pop could come up with a loan and open up one of the small gambling houses. It was legal here in the state to play slots as long as the winnings were dispensed in gift type cards like a gift Visa or American Express. They also disguised themselves as web cafés. The state did not like them and was working on shutting them all down.

  “How did you get the info?” Jaxon knew what was coming but had to ask.

  “I pulled a few strings.”

  “Holt.”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  Emory Holt was her ex-lover and also her ex-boss. He was a division chief at the Hoover building in Washington, D.C. The FBI. She had been involved with him when she and Jaxon had gone bad after the death of their son Michael. Jaxon had also been friends with Holt, but that relationship had ended a long time ago. Though Jaxon and Victoria had remarried last year, he still felt a twinge of jealousy whenever Holt came into the picture again.

  “You didn’t tell him what you needed it for, did you?”

  “No,” she said. “You know me better than that.”

  “Did he guess?”

  “He tried.”

  “We don’t want him poking around. He might attract the wrong attention.”

  “I told him that.”

  “Great. That probably made him more curious.”

  “He’ll leave it alone. I made him swear.”

  “I’m sure you did.” Jaxon sighed and she must have heard it through the phone.

  “You’re still worried about him aren’t you?”

  “We don’t have time for this, Vick.”

  “I know. It just makes me feel…I don’t know…like I’m important.”

  He sm
iled. He could see her slightly crooked smile in his mind and her long black hair pulled up away from her neck. He loved the curve of her neck and he showed her every day how much by kissing her there on the way out the door. She usually melted. “I don’t like you two working together.”

  “Nothing for you to worry about.”

  “You always say that.”

  “I always mean it.”

  “Ok. Love you too.”

  He hung up and concentrated on his driving. It was rush hour now and the idiots in this town loved to surprise you. As if on cue, a new Mustang flew by his passenger side and cut him off as it zig zagged through the traffic. He honked but the driver ignored him. Where were the police when you needed them? He chuckled and kept moving. His next GPS position was still a good ten miles away.

  * * *

  “We can beat him there,” Gil said.

  Melanie smiled. “Then let’s go.”

  He ran to the house and grabbed his keys to the Mustang and they sped off leaving a trail of rubber thirty feet long. A few miles ahead they saw Jaxon’s car and passed him like he was standing still. He even honked at them and Gil thought he recognized them at first, but when he didn’t pursue, he figured Jaxon was just angry at a maniac driver.

  Gil turned left a quarter mile up the road and Melanie looked at him. “I thought we were going to Park Street?”

  “We are. I just know a short cut.”

  She smiled then and put her hand on his thigh. He could tell this stuff turned her on. Hell, it was turning him on.

  They pulled onto Park Street and accelerated to the small strip mall he had visited the other day. In it was one of those bagged ice machines. As a pro cacher, he could just about guess at the location of a hidden cache as soon as he arrived in the area. He was right 90% of the time because that was where he would normally hide things.

  He pulled up to the ice machine and jumped out of the car. Two days ago nothing had been here, and when he figured he had misjudged the spot, he searched for another half hour and came up empty. It was then he decided that the cache was not there. This time he went straight for the back of the machine and reached under the portable building and felt along its underside. His hand immediately struck something that had not been there the day before and he smiled.