Fancy Gap Read online

  He was alone.

  CHAPTER 5

  Tim knew his family’s bad dream had become their reality. The fog began to lift a bit as the chaos in front of them seemed to only get worse. Police officers and paramedics swarmed all over the crash scene, caring for those crying out in the rubble. A scene as macabre as could ever be imagined was playing out in front of them, shrouded in the fog. The smoke and smell of vehicles on fire was thick in the air. Rescue helicopters began to hover until the fog closed all opportunity.

  He still couldn’t compute that he and his family had been spared. They were lucky to be alive. It seemed like they had been huddled together for hours, but it had been only twenty minutes. The sky was getting darker by the minute.

  Susan finally pulled free and headed slowly down to their car. In the carnage that resembled a junkyard, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Their Prius looked relatively unscathed. A bad gash on the side seemed to be the only damage.

  Suddenly a police officer came running toward her. He was covered with blood. “Are you OK?” the officer yelled as he stared at her.

  “Yes, my God, we are! At least I think we are,” she answered.

  “There are so many who are injured and so many who are…” He paused and looked at Susan with grief in his eyes. “Is that your car? It looks like it’s in pretty good shape.”

  “I think it is,” she replied in a quivering voice.

  Tim walked toward Susan with the children in tow, tightly holding his hands. The officer extended his hand and introduced himself. “My name is Sergeant Leroy Jefferson. I’m with the Carroll County Sheriff ’s Department.” Sergeant Jefferson looked at them for a brief moment. “You’re the lucky ones. Since your car isn’t damaged and y’all are OK, I suggest that you drive off the highway onto the state road.”

  “Where can we get a room?” Susan asked.

  “You should take the Fancy Gap exit, which is just a half mile from here. The hotels in Hillsville are full. The old motel in Fancy Gap might have a room. You can also get some food at the restaurant there. Here’s my card with my cell number. Call me tomorrow if you have any questions.” He paused and then said, “You’re the lucky ones. You’re blessed,” as he moved on down the hill.

  They looked at each other with blank stares as they sat in the car. Tim looked at Susan, “I think we might be able to drive some more tonight.”

  She looked at him in disbelief. This is crazy, she thought.

  “Are you kidding me? The kids are scared to death, not to mention exhausted and hungry. I’m scared to death. We’re not going anywhere except that motel off the next exit!” she shouted.

  Susan and both children started to cry as Tim drove down the side of the road.

  He could barely see. Night had fallen and the fog was settling back in. He finally found Highway 52. The sign said one mile to Fancy Gap.

  They crept along the road in pea-soup fog. Tim squinted as he tried to see the road ahead. They both saw the gas station sign on the right side of the road. Tim pulled in and parked in front of the entrance. “I’ll go inside and get directions to the motel,” he said.

  Susan nodded her head. She noticed the restaurant beside the gas station. She could see people inside.

  Tim came out of the station and climbed back into the car. “The motel is across the street. The clerk called, and there’s a room for us.”

  Susan looked at him and opened her car door. “We’re going into that restaurant to get some food. Come over after you get our room.”

  Tim watched his family walk away.

  He could barely see the highway as he crossed over to the motel. A dimly lit sign—practically invisible in the fog—pointed to the office off to the left. The place reminded him of a 1950’s’ mom-and-pop motel that had fallen on hard times. Paint was peeling from the outside walls, and the bottom brick façade was covered with weeds and moss. A dim light lit the office.

  Was this the Bates motel? he thought.

  He stood at the desk for a minute before he called out, “Anybody here?” He waited for another couple of minutes before he heard footsteps coming down the interior hallway. He turned and saw an older woman approaching.

  She looked Tim over and asked, “Can I help you, young fella?”

  “You certainly can. I believe the man at the gas station called for us about a room.”

  “Oh, you mean Sammy across the street. Yep, he sure ’nough did just call. He said a family of four needed a room. Bet you folks got all caught up in the fog. Hope you weren’t part of that bad wreck.”

  Tim frowned. “We were and we weren’t. We drove into it but missed all the wrecks. It was just a mess!”

  “Young man, you and your family are real lucky! Most folks who drive into that damn fog crash and get hurt real bad or die. They drive too fast and ignore the highway signs that tell them to slow down. Probably stupid Yankees from up North who think they’re so smart. Some of ’em end up coming here when they need a room. Are you a Democrat?” she blurted.

  Tim ignored this last part and said, “All we need is a room for tonight. How much is it?”

  She furrowed her right eyebrow. “It’s two hundred dollars a night if you’re a Democrat. It’s seventy-five dollars if you’re a Republican.”

  Tim gave her a hollow smile and said, “I’ll take the Republican rate.”

  She smiled as she passed the key to him. “You’re in room number nine. It’s at the end of the line. It’s got two beds, a TV and the hot water works…most of the time. Make sure you check out by eleven tomorrow!”

  Tim walked out of the office and across the yard to room number nine. The rusty lock reluctantly gave way as the door swung open. The musty smell almost knocked him over. He groped around and finally found the light switch. When the light flickered on, Tim was taken aback. The room was simple at best, with only two beds, a small television and a chair plus an extra small bathroom.

  Tim carefully crossed the highway toward the restaurant. By now the place was relatively deserted. Susan and the kids waved at him. Well, he thought, they must be feeling better.

  “So how’s the cuisine?” he asked as he sat down.

  “Well, sugar, its basic Southern, greasy, fried cooking, but it’s the best the children and I have had in a long time.”

  A short, plump bleached blond wearing a tight tank top and a faded miniskirt sauntered to their table.

  “Well, here’s the man of the hour,” she said, looking at Tim. “Bout tried to kill your family and then didn’t want to feed the poor dears. What in Jesus’ name were you thinking, Dad?”

  Tim noticed a large ketchup stain over her left nipple. As he looked up from her nipple to her face, her mouth opened in a smile, revealing her only tooth. Susan kicked him under the table. It took all of his self-control not to break out laughing. She handed him a menu and kept her hand on it.

  “You won’t have no use of that menu. It’s a gettin’ late and the kitchen is about to close. I suggest the chicken livers, or the cook can fry you up some eggs.”

  Tim was processing the thought of chicken livers when he felt his stomach take a hard turn. “I’ll go with the eggs. Scrambled would be great.”

  She winked at him and walked back to the kitchen. As soon as his eyes met Susan’s, they both burst out laughing. The children looked at them and did the same. The few patrons in the restaurant stopped eating to look at them.

  “So how are the accommodations?” Susan asked.

  “Well, we’ve stayed in better rooms, but for tonight it’ll be just fine. We’ll just rough it for one night.” Susan didn’t say a word.

  Tim finished eating in no time. He looked at the kids and asked, “How are you guys holding up?”

  Pete looked at Tim for a long minute. “Daddy, can we just go to bed now?”

  Tim smiled at his son. “We sure can. Let’s get to the room and get some sleep.” He paid the bill and gave the waitress a nice tip.

  “Why, thank you, sweetie,” she
said as she counted the money.

  Tim wanted to suggest that she save it for some dental work, but he didn’t.

  They walked out of the restaurant and carefully crossed the highway. He sensed fear as they were wrapped in…the fog.

  CHAPTER 6

  He had been lying silently in the grass for more than an hour. The fog was his envelope. He could not be seen. He had watched the woman and the two children go into the restaurant. He also saw the man go to the room at the end of the motel wing.

  He fought off the physical passion he felt building within him. His mental strength and discipline forced him to concentrate on the details playing out in front of him. Mistakes were not an option. They never were. Mistakes were for those who would be caught and punished for their stupidity. That would not happen tonight.

  All was perfect. There would be no mistakes. He knew that the fog would drive people to this motel. He had watched the others come. But none of them had children.

  His mind drifted to what he would do with either one of them. His hand began to tremble as he rubbed himself with satisfaction. His breathing got deeper as his passion grew to the point of pain. In his mind’s eye, he saw the look of terror and horror from what had happened so long ago. He thought he had purged all of that evil from his mind. But now it had come back with a vengeance—from hell. He heard the screams and felt the release that came from his final act. He was living it all over again. He snapped his head back as he focused on the motel room door that the family had just entered.

  He knew that it was now out of control. It would happen again. All of God’s power couldn’t stop what would be his deed. The past was now a fury in his mind. He could not escape his own plan. And neither could one of those children.

  He crawled along the hedge line closer to the room. He knew he was invisible to all except God, and that didn’t matter. His face was painted as black as the night. The fog was his cover. His training of so long ago had prepared him for this very moment.

  A tiny frog leaped and landed by his nose as he crawled. He quickly pinched it between two fingers and put it in his mouth. He slowly swallowed and thought of a time when he had survived on less. It was that time and place that drove him crazy with the demons who now returned in force.

  He was now within ten feet of their room and their car parked outside it. His heartbeat slowed as he controlled all of his senses. Time lost all meaning. He looked up as he heard their motel room door creak open. He sharpened his focus and couldn’t believe what was unfolding before him.

  His moment was near.

  CHAPTER 7

  More than two years had passed in his life. Some days had been longer than others. The shorter days were those he spent doing things that had escaped him when he lived the corporate existence. There was now time for kayaking along the New River or hiking along the Rocky Knob Gorge along the Blue Ridge Parkway. There was time to plan his hike of the Appalachian Trail, all twenty-one hundred miles of it, from Georgia to Maine.

  The long days happened when he was alone with his thoughts. Flashbacks of tender moments shared with Ellen were painful. The kids and grandkids had busy lives of their own. Soccer games and school activities took most of their time. He attended and cheered as often as he could. Face-to-face interaction faded to telephone calls, which quickly morphed into text messages. Their lives changed, and so did his.

  Friends played Cupid and planned dinners with single women who they thought would be great matches for him. He endured many awkward moments as he tried to be sociable with women with whom he had absolutely nothing in common. Facebook friends suggested female friends who they believed might fill the void in his life. Anthony, a Twitter aficionado, brought new faces to his attention, but he simply wasn’t ready for another person in his life.

  He had become comfortable in his aloneness. He ran in the morning as each new day dawned. He immersed himself in the online editions of the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times during breakfast. His new road bike came out after lunch as he rode mile after mile on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Evenings were for emails to the children and friends who were checking in on his mental well-being. Time slowed to a delightful crawl as he engaged in his passion for fine wine which was the path to mellow moments watching mountain sunsets. Life was settling into a very comfortable rhythm.

  * * *

  The invitation was delivered by overnight mail. His new life had no need for overnight mail. Much to his surprise, the interior envelope was from the FBI. That got his attention. What looked like a fancy wedding invitation was actually an invitation to a retirement party.

  Randy O’Brien, the number two man at the FBI, was about to retire to his farm in Montana. Randy was a senior administrator who was well liked by the rank and file. He was fair and as direct as he needed to be, and he avoided the usual Washington bullshit. Quinn knew him from some work they had done to help clear a young agent who was accused of taking bribes from a corporate mover and shaker. Quinn’s expertise in corporate financial crime helped him get to the bottom of the allegations and clear the agent, who happened to be Randy’s nephew. The Bureau would never admit that they had solicited outside help to get one of their own out of a jam. Randy never forgot Quinn’s contribution. He became a good resource in Washington as well as throughout the Bureau’s global labyrinth of networks.

  The invitation came at just the right time. Perhaps a trip to the other end of Virginia and the District might be a pleasant diversion. Besides, he hadn’t been to DC Coast, a swanky watering hole used by politicos and business executives, in years. He could catch up with two of his favorite barkeeps, Laura and Ned. He had met them before they were married and when they had just started working at the Coast. While he hadn’t seen them in a while, they stayed in touch on Facebook.

  * * *

  The five-hour drive across Virginia was peaceful. After he checked into the Sheraton in Crystal City, he took the Metro into the District. When he walked into DC Coast, Laura ran around the bar and jumped into his arms.

  “You big, handsome man!” she blurted out as she kissed him.

  He gave her a peck on the cheek as Ned pulled out a bar stool for him.

  “You don’t mind me kissing Laura, do you?” He shot a quick look at Ned. “Hey, you might be married to her, but I know she loves me.” Quinn continued.

  “Hey, old man, she can kiss you all she wants. Then she’ll understand what kissing an old fart is all about!”

  They laughed and reminisced while he sipped some very good white wine. After a while, he looked at his watch and realized he needed to get to the private reception area for O’Brien’s retirement gala. Being late was not an option.

  A pretty, young waitress handed him a flute of champagne as he entered the room. There had to be fifty or so people in attendance. He recognized some of them as career FBI agents and some from other agencies. He mingled and made polite conversation about Randy’s accomplishments. Out of the corner of his eye, he focused on a tall, attractive redhead who was making the rounds in the crowd. It suddenly dawned on him that she was Louisa Hawke. The grapevine had passed along an e-mail announcing her recent retirement from the Bureau as chief of the Criminal Investigation Division at headquarters. Rumor had it that she didn’t see eye-to-eye with Peter Finch, the newly appointed director of the FBI. He had met her in passing on one of his visits on the O’Brien assignment. She certainly was easy on the eyes.

  His delightful train of thought was interrupted by a hand resting on his right shoulder. He turned to see Randy O’Brien smiling at him. “She’s a remarkable and very attractive woman,” he remarked, noticing the direction of Quinn’s gaze.

  “Can’t deny that, my friend. She must be making someone happy.” Quinn suggested.

  Randy laughed. “Not recently. I believe she has been a free agent for quite some time now. She was the consummate professional workaholic. There was never any time in her life for a relationship.” Now there’s an interesting piece of intelligence, h
e thought.

  “Quinn, I’m very sorry about your loss and that I couldn’t be with you during your time of need. Ellen was much too young to leave this world. I sincerely hope that you’re feeling better with each new day,” Randy offered.

  For a moment or so, Quinn was silent. “Randy, I’ve had to deal with some crappy situations in my life. I have seen and lived with all amounts of grief. But never has my life been as devastated as it was, and for a while there was no end in sight. The rock of my life was taken in a heartbeat. She never heard me say goodbye.” he paused and then said, “It’s all finally coming around, my friend.”

  They caught up with each other for the next ten minutes or so. He was soon pulled away as the formal part of the gathering started. He enjoyed hearing kudos showered upon a public servant as deserving as Randy. He was a credit to the FBI and would be missed.

  After the event wound down, he slipped back to the bar to spend a few more minutes with Laura and Ned. As he sidled into the empty stool near the end of the bar, Laura said, “That was some high-powered group of folks in that room, Quinn. Did I see the attorney general arrive a little late in the evening?”

  “That indeed was the man who runs the whole justice show. It was a real tribute to Randy that he gave up some of his precious family time to be here tonight,” he offered.

  They continued to catch up, with lots of past highlights and gossip to digest.

  Suddenly, Quinn thought he detected a female voice addressing him. He looked around to see Louisa Hawke standing next to him.

  “Is this stool taken, Mister McSpain?”

  He was taken aback for a moment before he blurted out, “It’s reserved for a pretty redhead who plans to buy me a drink.”

  She smiled a sly little smile as she slid in next to him. He immediately felt her presence and tried his best not to show it. Laura winked at him from the other end of the bar.