When Memory Fails Page 11

  The Hermit stroked his beard. “Seems like you all took a long journey for nothing. If I knew where The Ledger was hidden, don’t you think I would have it with me now?”

  Bobbi frowned and sank deeper into the couch.

  Bronson sat up straighter. “Everyone says you know somethin’. Maybe you don’t know you know. Mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I keep hearin’ the phrase, the Heart of the Land. What does that mean?”

  Bobbi and her brother exchanged looks. “We’ve been wondering the same thing,” Bobbi said, “but we come out empty.”

  Bronson retrieved the small spiral notebook he kept in his shirt pocket and opened it to a blank page. “Let’s assume the Heart of the Land is literally a place. If so, where do you think that would be?”

  The room rang with silence as both Bobbi and the Hermit contemplated the answer. Seconds later, the Hermit slammed his open hand on the couch. “Damn, if you didn’t hit the nail on the head. It’s got to be here. Here in this town. Back then, Sechrest Falls was definitely the Heart of the Land.”

  Bronson recorded the information in his notebook. “That narrows it down. But this is a big town—or at least at one time, it was. Assumin’ Sechrest Falls is the Heart of the Land, there must be one particular area that is the real heart. Where would that be?”

  “This house!” Bobbi almost screamed the answer.

  “Of course. All of the activities were held here. This house, at one time, was the place where everyone gathered for entertainment as well as for decision making. That means The Ledger has got to be somewhere in this house. Damn.” The Hermit bolted to his feet. “But where?”

  “Have you ever searched this place for it?” Bronson asked.

  “Never had reason to.” The Hermit shook his head. “But we can look now, if you both want.”

  “In time,” Bronson said. “But before we get all hot and bothered, let’s work this completely out.”

  “What do you mean?” Bobbi asked.

  “Let’s assume for a minute that the Heart of the Land isn’t this house. Is there another place where folks met to enjoy themselves and to conduct business in a free, open environment?”

  The Hermit shook his head. “Not that I know of.” He looked at Bobbi. “And you?”

  She frowned. “Can’t think of any such place.”

  “Say you were a teenager and you wanted to take your special one to a private, happy place. Where would that be?”

  The Hermit and Bobbi exchanged looks. “Sechrest Falls,” they said in unison.

  Bronson jotted down the information. “And where’s that?”

  “Not too far from here. Maybe a mile at the most.” Bobbi pointed toward the direction of the falls. “The waterfall isn’t very big but it’s very impressive. All that water tumbles down to a gorgeous blue lake. It’s peaceful and quiet, and everyone loved the place.”

  Bronson set his pen down. “If The Ledger is hidden there, where would it be?”

  Bobbi threw her arms up in the air. “Let’s hope it’s not there. That would make it impossible to find. Let’s hope we find it here in the house.” She looked out the window and breathed hard. “But first, I need a breath of fresh air.” Bobbi stood up.

  “You do that while I make us a cup of tea. Then the three of us can start searching.” The Hermit looked at both Bronson and his sister for confirmation.

  “If you have any coffee, I’d rather have that.” Bronson could almost smell its sweet aroma. He closed the notebook and returned it to his pocket. “If you don’t mind.”

  The Hermit let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t mind at all. I normally make a fresh pot just about now, and I drink it by myself. Today, I can share my brew. That makes me happy.” The Hermit stood up and headed toward the kitchen.

  Bobbi reached for the front doorknob and turned it.

  “That’s not a good idea,” Bronson said. “We still don’t know about Eddie’s whereabouts. You’re safe here.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said and headed out.

  Shiiit. Bronson ran after her, but she moved at a fast pace. “Slow down. What’s the hurry?”

  But instead of slowing down, Bobbi broke into a run.

  Bronson caught up with her. “What’s goin’ on?”

  Bobbi looked at Bronson as though she didn’t recognize him. “I…I kept thinking about what Eddie…said. I—I guess I panicked.”

  “What did Eddie say?”

  “He said—he said that—but it’s not true. It can’t be true. Naturally, I didn’t believe him, but somehow I got to thinking about it, and it scared the hell out of me.”

  “What did he say?” Bronson pronounced each word separately, carefully.

  “He said—” Bobbi wet her lips. “He said he rigged the house. It’s going to explode.”

  Bronson bolted back to the house yelling out the Hermit’s name. “Joe. Joe. Get out of there, now.”

  * * *

  A smile spread across Bobbi’s lips as she watched Bronson’s fruitless attempt to save her brother. She reached into her pocket and retrieved the detonator. Her finger shook with anxiety while she waited for the right moment to push the button.

  She wet her lips. Hurry, Bronson, hurry.

  She had ordered Pablo and Leonardo to bring Daniel and Sandy to her brother’s house. But before they arrived, she wanted both the Hermit and Bronson dead.

  By now her finger felt so tense, it twitched. Involuntarily, she pressed the button sooner than she had wanted to.

  But that was okay. Bronson, still screaming the warnings, was within touching distance of the house.

  The house erupted into a ball of fire that turned the sky an angry red.

  Chapter 36

  The explosion knocked Bronson off his feet, and the concussive wave caused sheetrock, nails, bits of wood, glass, and other debris to rain down on him. The sound of destruction echoed and rolled across the forest engulfing every tree in its wake, like an angry thunderstorm descending upon its prey.

  For what seemed like an eternity, Bronson lay on the ground until the hail of debris stopped, only to be replaced by the dust and smoke that drifted over him.

  He attempted to scramble up, but his body like a raggedy doll was unable to obey. He closed his eyes and snapped them open again. Sleep. He could sleep. He fought the urge. He ordered his senses to break away from sleep’s gooey embrace. His eyes flickered.

  He heard, before he saw, the scramble of boots that sounded like a herd of horses stampeding toward him. Like prey caught in the open, the feeling of vulnerability enveloped him.

  Move! Get up!

  His brain shouted the order, but his body remained unmoving, defenseless.

  Now! Move!

  He squirmed to a sitting position. If he moved fast and far enough, he’d be safe.

  A sharp blow to the back of his head drained Bronson of all hope.

  He floated into darkness.

  * * *

  Pablo pulled out the Walther PPK and pointed it at Sandy.

  Daniel, who remained tied and gagged, squirmed and mumbled a No!

  Leonardo ripped off the tape that had, up to now, kept Daniel silent. He leaned down close to his face and hissed, “Shut up. Not one word. Do you understand?”

  Daniel nodded.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do.” Leonardo looked at Sandy but spoke to Daniel. “We are going to meet Aunt Bobbi at the Hermit’s house. You will both come along. Any funny business from either of you and you’re dead. Am I making myself clear?”

  Both Daniel and Sandy nodded.

  Leonardo proceeded to untie them while Pablo kept the semi-automatic aimed at Sandy.

  Daniel was the first to be freed. He bent down and untied Sandy as gently as possible. Once he finished, he helped her up and wrapped a protective arm around her.

  “Get going!” Leonardo pointed the way they should go.

  They moved through a wall of dense brush
that had concealed them. They crashed through the thickets, tearing their skin on fallen branches and thorns. They ran clumsily, dodging the fallen timber where they could, and climbing over the rotting trunks that could not be avoided. Still, Leonardo urged them to move faster.

  They came to a sudden halt when a loud blast that seemed to shake the earth itself filled the air. Wide-eyed, they stared at one another.

  “Man, she did it. She actually did it.” Pablo’s smile spread from ear to ear. “She blew the place up. On purpose, I hope.”

  Leonardo grinned. “Have you ever known Aunt Bobbi to do something unintentionally?”

  Pablo shook his head.

  “That answers your question.” Leonardo shoved Daniel and Sandy. “That explosion tells me we’re late. Let’s quit wasting time.”

  The air around them seemed to take on a heaviness that defied speed. Yet, each of the four pushed harder than ever. As they crested the hill, they stared at the area where the Hermit’s house had once been. It looked like a war zone with no survivors.

  Sandy gasped and reached for Daniel’s hand. She blinked several times as she stared at the place where the door that had once welcomed visitors laid scattered among other piles of debris.

  Daniel noticed the tears that clouded Sandy’s vision. Silently he asked, why the tears?

  A slight incline of her head told Daniel to look down below.

  Daniel followed her line of sight. His eyes widened with horror when he realized that the body lying in the ground was Bronson.

  Standing over him, Bobbi gasped for air, holding on to the large branch she had used to knock Bronson out. She bent down and relieved Bronson of the firearms he had accumulated.

  She turned and saw Daniel running down toward her. Not far behind, Sandy did her best to catch up. Leonardo and Pablo trotted along.

  She stepped away from Bronson and gave the thumbs up symbol.

  Chapter 37

  “No! No!” Daniel sobbed the repeated syllables that seemed to flutter up and down the forest like frightened birds. He galloped down the hill.

  “Daniel, wait!” Sandy scurried after him.

  Either he didn’t hear her, or he chose to ignore her. He darted around the obstacles along the way. He stumbled often but always managed to regain his balance.

  Pablo and Leonardo looked at each other, shrugged, and went after them.

  In the span of a few minutes, Daniel reached the area where his uncle’s body lay. “Uncle Harry!” His voice rang with desperation.

  Bobbi saw him approach and stepped back, still holding on to the massive branch she had used as a weapon.

  The longer Daniel stared at his uncle’s inert body, the more his strength evaporated like thousands of molecules scattering in the wind. He grabbed his chest as though it was being ripped apart. His knees buckled, and he sunk to the ground next to Bronson. He allowed himself to give in to despair.

  Uncle Harry.

  It seemed like only yesterday that he had learned he had an uncle. Daniel was just beginning to know him. To love him. Now, he was…

  Gone.

  A big sob shook Daniel’s body. How could he face Aunt Carol? He closed his eyes and allowed the tears to roll down his cheek, barely aware of anyone else’s presence.

  He felt a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked up. Sandy. The sick look in her eyes told him he must find his strength. She needed him. Now, more than ever.

  Daniel reached down and straightened his uncle’s arm. That’s when he noticed blood seeping out of an ugly cut in his lower arm.

  He remembered what his uncle had once told him. Dead men don’t bleed.

  Dead men don’t bleed!

  His uncle was alive.

  Before anyone could notice, he folded the arm back up. He stood up, wiped his tears away, and faced Bobbi. “You want me to cooperate with you. I will, but first, you must do something for me.”

  Bobbi glared at him and folded her arms in front of her.

  Daniel took a step forward.

  Bobbi’s eyes widened.

  “I won’t allow my uncle’s body to lay here to rot. I realize we can’t give him a proper burial, but I can take him to one of the better-preserved houses in Sechrest Falls and lay him in a bed.”

  “And how do you propose to get him down there?”

  “My rental is parked by what used to be the bank. I’ll get the car, bring it up here, load him in, drive to the house, lay him on the bed, and then I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

  A moment of silence followed. “You think me a fool. I let you go get the car, and you’re gone.”

  “You’ve got my word.”

  “Not good enough.” Bobbi turned to Pablo. “Go bring his car.”

  Daniel retrieved the car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Pablo.

  Pablo caught them in mid-air. “Sweet.”

  * * *

  Once Daniel had laid Bronson down on the bed, he let out a sigh of relief. He had pulled it off. No one—not even Sandy—realized Bronson was alive. He did his best to plaster on a sad face. “Can Sandy and I have a moment alone with him?”

  Bobbi looked at Pablo and Leonardo. “Out.” She turned to Daniel. “I’ll stand by the door, and that’s as good as it gets.”

  She opened the door for Pablo and Leonardo. “While we wait, take the car and put it in the place you found it.”

  They nodded, shuffled across the room, and headed out. Bobbi closed the door behind them and then positioned herself in front of the door.

  Daniel took advantage of Bobbi’s temporary distraction. From Bronson’s shirt pocket, he retrieved his notebook and pen, tore a page out, and scribbled some wavy lines, perpendicular ones and horizontal ones. The floating heart he drew barely resembled one.

  He returned the notebook and pen to Bronson’s pocket. Next, Daniel reached for Bronson’s back pocket and took his wallet out.

  “What are you doing?”

  Bobbi’s accusatory tone startled Daniel. “I, uh, was going to get his driver’s license out.”

  “Why?”

  “To buy you time. If some tourist came here and called the police, they would immediately know who he is. But with no driver’s license …” He shrugged.

  Bobbi’s eyes widened. “Good thinking. Get his credit cards as well.”

  Daniel did as he was told, and while he was at it, he slipped the drawing in Bronson’s wallet. He closed his eyes and lowered his head for what he thought was a decent time. He reached for Sandy’s hand and signaled for them to leave.

  As he closed the door behind them, he cast his uncle one last longing look. Hurry and wake up, Uncle Harry. We need you. The note tells you where to find us.

  Present Time

  Chapter 38

  Bronson massaged his forehead. His head pounded as if a full marching band performed their routine in his brain and in the back of his eyeballs. He moved his head from side to side. It didn’t help.

  He could tolerate the headache. He could even tolerate the desperate isolation brought on by the effects of time and weather as they left their marks on every crumbling shack in this decaying town.

  He could even accept the eerie silence that walked along with him.

  Yes, he could get past all of this. But he could not be at ease with the knowledge that he didn’t know who he was.

  The name Bronson felt right. But who—what—was a Bronson? He eyed his wedding band as he twisted it around and around. If only you could talk.

  The unexpected sound of shuffling feet captured Bronson’s attention. He looked up in time to see someone lying low to the ground scoot behind the crumbling walls of what once had been the schoolhouse.

  Bronson’s grip tightened around the homemade club he had selected for an emergency like this. He sprinted forward, using the few remaining walls as protection. He plastered his back against the rotting wood and inched his way forward. When he reached the edge, he squatted and slowly peeked.

  Nothi
ng unusual greeted him. He remained, as before, alone.

  Had he imagined the movement?

  He slowly stood and sucked in his breath when he heard someone breathing behind him. Somehow, this predator had snuck in behind him and had him at an advantage.

  With only his eyes moving, Bronson scanned the area. There must be something he could do. He sighed when nothing came to him. He gripped the club, placing it in front of him. He slowly pivoted, his knuckles turning white as he clutched the weapon tighter and tighter.

  Soon as Bronson faced her, the medium size dog sat down and raised a paw.

  Bronson slowly lowered the club, not wanting to scare the animal away. He quickly scanned the area, reassuring himself that no one was with the dog. He bent down. “You look like a friendly critter. Are you?”

  The animal cocked her head and stared at Bronson.

  He reached to pat its head, and the canine inched toward him. “Do I know you? Or better yet, do you know me?” Bronson checked her collar for any tags. There were none. Great. Just great. What kind of a place was this? Even the dog was unidentifiable.

  Bronson patted her. Her honey-colored coat felt soft, and the short shiny hair told him this was no wild animal. Someone—could it be him?—had taken good care of this dog. “Tell you what, Dog. I’m going to stand up and let you lead me. Maybe you can show me why I’m here.”

  He straightened up.

  Dog didn’t move.

  Bronson frowned. “Guess that was a bad idea. You’re not going to be any help, after all.” No use wasting his time. He would continue doing what he had started to do—thoroughly check building by building. One of them had to hold the key to his past. All he had to do was find that one particular place.

  “Come on, Dog.” Bronson signaled for her to follow. To his surprise, the canine stood up and looked at Bronson, her inquisitive brown eyes asking him what he wanted her to do. “We’re going to search the rest of the town, and while we’re at it, we’ve got to find a better name for you. Dog doesn’t really seem to suit you.”