Cache 72 (A Jaxon Jennings' Detective Mystery Thriller Series, Book 2) Page 9
“So you’re positive it’s a he?”
“The video sure looked right for the build. Couldn’t see the face, but he was pretty big. My size.”
“Be careful.”
“No.”
She laughed but then sighed. “I know you won’t but I can ask. Love you.”
“Love you too.” As he hung up, he saw Mel staring at him with a little smile on her lips. “What?”
“You’re cute,” she said. “I mean you and your wife. You care for her a lot don’t you?”
He nodded. “She’s all I have left.”
“No kids?”
“We had a son.”
“What happened?”
“He was killed. It was a long time ago.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“How could you? No need to be sorry.”
“We still on track for the airport?” Gil asked.
“Yes. Some new developments, but right now it doesn’t help us find her.”
“What did your wife find?”
He told them about Bethany and Danielle.
“That’s messed up,” Mel said. “We had a guy in our school kill himself because he got picked on. He was gay. It was a big deal. I liked him.”
She looked away and Jaxon could tell it was a sore spot with her.
An hour later, they arrived at the Oasis Ranger/US Government airport and pulled in. There were only a few cars in the lot and as they drove through, Jaxon watched a gator cross the road behind them. They were all over the place. Personally, he was tired of gators.
They drove onto the airport property, heading for the waypoint. There were very few aircraft. An old Korean era helicopter sat on the tarmac. A few hangars were spaced along the pavement, but no people could be seen. Either they were busy inside or the airport was deserted at the moment. Jaxon was relieved. He was tired of making shit up so people would leave them alone.
Gil stopped the car near a hangar that looked fairly new. “This is it.”
Jaxon watched as Mel looked around like he was doing. “There’s nothing here,” she said.
“The building,” Jaxon said and they got out.
There was a door on the side that was locked. Around the front of the building, they found the hangar door down and sealed tight. Maybe it was around back. They searched the other side on the way to the back of the hangar and found nothing. Out back, there was a small lean-to type shed up against the back wall and Gil lifted the lid.
“Here!”
Jaxon and Melanie walked over as he was pulling a camo covered container out. It was the size of a small toolbox.
“This is probably it,” Gil said and opened it.
A flash of black struck out from the box and Gil pulled his hand back, dropping it. A medium sized snake reared up and then slithered away in the direction of the brush. Mel screamed.
“Dammit!” Gil said, holding his hand. “That hurts like a mother.”
“It bit you?” Jaxon asked and grabbed his hand.
Two small marks were visible on the padded area between his thumb and index finger. They were growing redder as he watched.
“Burns,” Gil said.
“What kind of snake was that?” Jaxon asked.
“Hell if I know.”
Jaxon kicked the box and nothing else came out of it. He bent and picked it up. Inside was a piece of paper. It was covered in some yellow and brown stains that had a strong ammonia smell. Probably snake piss. He opened the page and read the note out loud.
Say hello to the Black Mamba. Hope you were careful, but since it is one of the deadliest snakes in the world, if you happen to find the business end of it, you may want to hurry to your next number point. You could call it your Color Personality Anti-waypoint. Oh…depending on how much venom the Mamba pumped into you, you probably have very little time. Maybe an hour. Have fun! Orange blue blue yellow indigo indigo blank yellow yellow /rose red red indigo violet blank blank gold green.
Jaxon looked up to see Mel with her hand at her mouth, her lip quivering, a tear trickling down her cheek. Gil was not looking good. His face was turning ashen and he was sweating.
“Shit,” Gil said and then bent over the bitten hand in pain. “Where is the next waypoint?”
“We don’t have a waypoint. There’s just a bunch of colors.”
“Crap! This isn’t the time for a puzzle. I’m gonna die. Shit!”
Gil sat on the ground and held his hand out in front of him. It was swelling.
“Think Gil,” Mel said. “What would colors represent?”
“I don’t know. I can’t think. It hurts too much.”
“Come on,” Jaxon said and helped him up. “We have to get you to a hospital.”
“They won’t have Black Mamba anti-venom. Not here in the US. We have to figure out the next point. Read it to me again.”
Jaxon read the note out loud.
“There’s nothing there,” Gil said.
“What’s a number point?” Mel said.
“He just means waypoint,” Gil said.
“Are you sure? That’s a weird way to put it. And what did he mean by color personality?”
Gil looked up at her. “How should I know?” he snapped. “The guy’s a psycho. His brain just doesn’t work like ours.”
Jaxon could tell the pain was pretty intense. The kid had guts. He had heard snake venom was one of the most painful things to endure.
“Isn’t there some chart or something that will give you your personality traits based on colors? You know? Like your favorite colors.” Mel’s face was frantic. She snapped her fingers. “Numerology!”
She pulled out her smartphone and tapped the screen. “Here.” She held up the phone to Gil. “Every color has a number associated with it as well as letters. Substitute the colors for the numbers and I bet we have the waypoint.”
He looked up at her, a little grin on his lips through the pain. “Mel, that’s awesome. You figured it out.”
She broke out in tears and handed the phone to Jaxon. Jaxon took the GPS from Gil’s pocket and plugged in the numbers. The GPS map tracked east rapidly and centered over Asia.
“This can’t be right,” Jaxon said.
“Where is it?” Gil asked through clenched teeth.
“India.”
“That can’t be,” Melanie said in a panic. She grabbed the GPS from Jaxon and stared at the screen. “The note said it was here. How are we supposed to get to India in an hour?”
“We’re not,” Jaxon said. “We’re missing something.”
He paced and read the note to himself again.
“Is there a ‘W’ in front of the second set of numbers?” Gil asked.
“No.”
“That’s it. Put a ‘W’ in front of them.”
Jaxon did it and the map skewed west until it centered over a spot in the Everglades just west of them on the Tamiami trail.
“Got it! Come on, kid. We have to move.”
Jaxon reached to help him up and Gil stumbled as he stood. He leaned over and vomited all over the ground.
“Sorry,” he said weakly. “I couldn’t help it.”
“Don’t worry about it. I got you.”
Jaxon grabbed him under the shoulders and Mel got on his other side. They helped him to the car. There wasn’t much time.
CHAPTER 13
Ray lay awake next to Michelle.
She had been good on her promise when he got home and though he had been late, she didn’t seem upset. He stared at her sleeping face and couldn’t believe how lucky he was.
They had met at his best friend’s wedding. The bride was her sister and they hit it off right away. At the reception, she had caught the bouquet and though Ray didn’t believe in fate or any kind of spiritual guidance, he did feel like she could be something more in his life than just a fun date.
That had been three years ago, and though she promised she would always be with him, he had yet to give her a ring. He knew it was t
ime, he had even been to the jeweler and held the ring in his palm. He just hadn’t pulled the trigger. He didn’t know what was keeping him from this last step, he just knew that things kept getting in the way.
That’s not what was keeping him awake, though.
He kept going over what Jaxon had asked him. The guy was definitely a piece of work, but he had been sincere to him and that was something Ray respected. The problem wasn’t that he didn’t want to help him, he just felt that Jaxon was working outside the law and he couldn’t condone that. Everything Ray did in his life was to uphold the delicate balance between the idiots in this world and those who behaved. The law was there for a reason, and in Ray’s eyes, was not meant to be messed with. Even if it seemed warranted.
He reached for his phone and started to punch in some numbers but he stopped. If he called the FBI, would he actually endanger this girl’s life, or help? That same question was what had prevented him from calling right away. He didn’t have enough information.
Jaxon had provided him the gist of the situation, but Ray had not asked enough questions. Maybe he had been protecting himself from further problems in the future should they arise and he was questioned. He wasn’t sure of his reasoning, Ray just knew he had somehow made it convenient to avoid further knowledge of the specifics. Now, he wondered if that had been a mistake.
He put the phone back down and stared at the ceiling. Michelle suddenly spoke and it startled him. He hadn’t realized she was awake.
“What’s bothering you?”
He turned to her and touched her face. She smiled but he could tell she wasn’t going to be put off that easily. He sighed.
“I had a crazy morning.”
“What happened?”
“You sure you want to hear this?”
She nodded.
“I had a run in with an ex-cop. From DC.”
“Was he breaking the law?”
He paused. “In a way.”
“Tell me.”
He told her. When he was done, she had a funny look on her face. Normally she was blasé about his work and rarely showed interest in what went on.
“Why didn’t you help?”
“I don’t think what he’s doing is right.”
“He’s trying to save a girl’s life. You feel that’s not worth it?”
“No. He’s going about it all wrong. He’s acting above the law and I don’t agree with it.”
“But he’s being prevented from doing so because of the rules imposed by this psycho. He’s doing it the only way he can. What if it was me and you were put in the same situation? What would you do?”
He looked at her and didn’t see anger in her eyes. Just concern. She wasn’t testing him. She was genuinely concerned for this girl. He turned away from her and stared up at the ceiling. She had a point.
“I would do what he’s doing,” he finally said.
“Help him.” She reached out and caressed his neck. “He needs your help.”
* * *
Jaxon drove back west as the GPS directed and he pressed the pedal down hard, the car pushing them past the speed limit and beyond. They were flying.
Mel was in the back with Gil, holding him and trying to soothe his pain. He was rocking back and forth, breathing hard and sweating up a storm.
“Pull over. I’m gonna puke again,” he said and Jaxon braked hard. He threw the door open and Gil gave up what was left in his stomach to the sand and grass of the Everglades. There wasn’t much left, but he heaved for a good five minutes, his body trying everything it could to kick out the poison. When he sat back up, he was ghostly white. Jaxon floored the accelerator and the car leapt onto the road. His cell rang.
He picked it up, thinking it was Vick. “Yeah.”
“Jaxon?”
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“It’s Maningham. Ray Maningham.”
“I’m kind of busy right now, Ray.”
“Can I help?”
“I thought you weren’t the guy.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Well, I got a problem. The kid got bit by some Black Mamba and we’re trying to get to the anti-venom. Apparently the perp has it hidden.”
“What? You’re kidding right?”
“No time for kidding. We’re flying down Tamiami back toward the west. The GPS says I’m still twenty-eight miles away.”
“I know a herpetologist.”
“A what?”
“A snake expert. I’ll meet you there with him. Give me the coordinates.”
“I’ll hand the phone to Melanie. She’ll give them to you. I have to drive.”
He handed the phone to her and told her to give him the waypoint in the GPS. She did it and then hung up.
It started to rain then and thunder rumbled as lightning flashed. The road became slick and Jaxon had to slow down or risk losing control of the car. He kept glancing in the rear view mirror and Melanie’s face would look up, stricken, her eyes red and worried, pleading with him to go faster, to get there before it was too late.
He pushed the car harder again, but the tires came up off the pavement, hydroplaning in the water, and he fought it, almost wrapping them around a tree in the process. He couldn’t go any faster.
Twenty minutes later they were coming up on the waypoint. The GPS said it was two hundred yards ahead. A turnoff appeared in the vast wilderness of the Everglades and Jaxon read the words on the sign. Skunk Ape Research Center.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled as he applied the brakes hard.
The rain had slowed but the tires still didn’t want to bite quite like they should. They slid into the grass and he yanked the wheel hard back toward the entrance. The place looked deserted.
It was basically a shack in the middle of nowhere, gaudy tourist trinkets hanging from racks on the porch, a giant gorilla statue standing sentinel over the property, its yellow eyes glaring at the vast expanse of the Everglades. Jaxon was positive that a skunk ape, if it existed, looked nothing like this creature, nor did gorillas live in the swamps of Florida.
The GPS said they were within fifty feet. The anti-venom must be within the shack. He stopped hard in the only parking spot, the rest was dirt and mud. Putting the car in park, he turned to Mel.
“You stay with him. I’ll find it.”
Gil was leaning against her, his head against her breast. The skin around his eyes was gray and his breathing came in sporadic gasps. His hand had swollen to three times its normal size.
She nodded. “Hurry!”
He stepped from the car and heard a siren. A few seconds later. Ray’s SUV came into the entrance and slid to a stop. Ray and another man jumped out.
“He’s in the car,” Jaxon yelled.
The man that Jaxon presumed was the snake expert said, “Did you find the anti-venom?”
“Not yet. We just got here.”
“Hurry.”
“No shit.”
The man went to the car and climbed in. Jaxon could see him working on Gil and Melanie was freaking out.
“Mel, it’s all right. He’s a snake expert. Let him do his thing.”
She calmed down and cried silently as the man worked on Gil.
“Where have you looked?” Ray asked.
“I haven’t. It’s probably in the building. It’s definitely within twenty-five feet of the car.”
“Let’s go.”
They rushed inside.
A woman was behind the counter smoking a long cigarette and watching a small portable television that appeared to be a relic from the 70s. She looked up and put the cigarette in an ashtray shaped like a foot.
Ray flashed his badge and said, “We’re going to have a look around.”
“Do you have a warrant?” the woman asked, her voice hoarse and ragged. She looked as if this was a regular thing.
“Don’t need one, Wilma. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Can’t let you look without a warrant,” she rasped.
Jaxon pulled his gun from his holster and shoved it in her face.
“How’s this? This warrant enough?”
She raised her hands and nodded.
Ray scowled at Jaxon but said nothing. He started at one side of the small shack and Jaxon the other.
The woman finally found her voice again and asked, “What the hell are you looking for?”
“Has anybody strange been here in the last couple of days?” Jaxon said. “Someone who looked around, maybe, and then left without going in to your park, or buying anything? Maybe he even asked to use the rest room?”
“That’s just about everybody who comes in here,” she said.
“Have you found anything in here that doesn’t belong? A box or small container?”
“No,” she said and puffed on her cigarette.
The smoke that she exhaled looked yellow. Jaxon ignored her and concentrated on the shop.
The shelves were full of crap. Shells, gator heads, flip flops, mugs, plastic gorillas, plates with Skunk Ape Research Center emblazoned on their surface, toys, incense, and all the other junk you’d find in a tourist trap. It could be anywhere.
“We’re never going to find it in here,” Ray said. “Are you sure it’s in the shop?”
“No. The GPS only gets us within twenty-five to thirty feet and then we have to do the rest.”
He nodded, picking up a stuffed gorilla and then putting it back down. “I’ll keep looking in here, you go outside. Maybe it’s around back or on the side.”
Jaxon agreed and he stepped outside. The rain was still coming down and he sloshed through the mud to the side of the shack. A water meter and gas meter sat up against the wall but nothing else was around.
In the back, a small fenced in area designated the back yard. He opened the gate and found a trash can and various other gardening tools. Nothing else. He slammed the gate closed, frustrated, and went back out front. He stood under the overhang and looked around. The trinkets on the porch were just like the crap inside and he rifled through them, quickly, finding nothing.
He went to the car and stuck his head in. “How is he?”
“Bad,” the guy said. He had Gil’s arm in a tourniquet and was monitoring his blood pressure. “We need that anti-venom. Now. The Black Mamba can inject large amounts of its very powerful venom within a matter of a split second. He’s been given quite a large dose as the condition of the surrounding tissue is quite inflamed. The toxin is spreading as we speak and he doesn’t have much time.”