Snowbound

TWENTY-THREE

They rented a new Land Rover from the airport, black, with a tan leather interior. Kalyn drove, Will in back, Devlin asleep against the door in front.

In the early morning, in a brown cactus-ridden neighborhood in Sun City, Kalyn pulled over to the curb.

“What are we stopping for?” Will asked.

“I have to get some things from this private investigator. He’s a friend. One of the last I’ve got.” She got out, and Will watched her walk up the driveway to the small adobe house.

A minivan passed by. Then another—people on their way to church or weekend jobs, morning coffee steaming up from the mugs in their laps.

Will envied them.

By midday, they were passing through the extravagant wastelands of Las Vegas. Then it was I-15, north through Utah, Kalyn and Will taking turns behind the wheel, even letting Devlin drive for a stretch. They made a forty-minute stop at a rest area near Zion National Park for Devlin’s CPT, and played car games through the late afternoon—Punch Bug and I Spy.

They reached Salt Lake a little after 9:00 P.M. on Sunday night, road-weary, landscape-numb, tired, and hungry.

Rented a pair of rooms at a Super 8 and wandered over to the Denny’s across from the string of cheap motels along the interstate.

Burgers, fries, bad salads, Mormons.

Ate at the counter, talked out, worthless, Will thinking, All I want to do is finish this greasy meal and lie in bed in the motel room, watching something mindless on television.

Kalyn broke his daze. “It’s a little disconcerting we haven’t heard from Jav.”

“I know. What if we don’t before tomorrow night?”

“Things might get interesting.”

Will woke in the motel, the TV still on, barely dawn outside, and the interstate noise roaring through the thin walls. Devlin sat up in the other bed, and the first thing out of her mouth was, “Are we crazy for doing this, Dad?”

“Probably.”

The call came during breakfast the next morning at a diner in Brigham City—a strong buzz emanating from Kalyn’s purse.

She pulled out the BlackBerry and they all watched it vibrate across the table.

“What’s the name on the caller ID?” Will asked.

“Just a number. Phoenix area code.”

“Gonna answer it?”

“Yeah, I’ll put it on speaker.”

Kalyn pressed TALK. “Who’s this?”

A few seconds of silence elapsed, followed by a sigh. “You know who this is.”

Devlin mouthed “That’s him?”

Will nodded.

“Javier,” Kalyn said, smiling. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to call. That was a nifty little move you pulled Saturday. What’d I miss? Handcuff key in your back pocket?”

“Where’s my family?”

Will glanced at the nearest occupied table, a good fifteen feet away—young couple sharing the same side of the booth, each in the other’s world.

Kalyn said, “Why do you think we would tell you that right now?”

There was an abrupt noise on Javier’s end—probably a snort—which emerged as static through the speaker. “Because when I find you, I will take into consideration this moment. It’s an opportunity, not for you to stop what’s coming, but perhaps to make things end faster than they otherwise would. I understand this is a concept difficult to fully grasp. I’m where I am, you’re where you are, and you don’t think we’ll ever see each other again. But I can promise you we will. And I will murder you both and take great joy and pleasure and time in doing it.”

Will wrapped his arm around Devlin, caught her eyes, shook his head.

“What you must now do is anticipate that moment when I have you. What I’m offering is death. Not immediate. But considerably faster than it is currently scheduled to arrive, in light of the offense you’ve both given me.”

Kalyn said, “Hello?”

“Yes, I’m here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you faded out there for about fifteen seconds. Look, I’ll make this very easy. Our concern is Jonathan. Have you warned him we’re coming?”

Three seconds of dead air, then: “No.”

“That’s good, Javier. As you know, our meeting with him is set for tonight. We’ll handle the finessing of why you couldn’t be there, but I just need to make something clear. You listening?”

“I am.”

“If it goes well, if it’s obvious Jonathan has not been forewarned, someone will call you tomorrow, tell you where you can find your family.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

Kalyn pulled the BlackBerry back from her face, pressed END, set the device on the table.

“What are you doing?” Will said.

“Let him sweat. What do we stand to lose? Our meeting. What does he stand to—” The BlackBerry buzzed. Kalyn pressed TALK, said, “I don’t know what third-grade textbook you learned your negotiation skills from, but you aren’t in any spot to say what is and is not acceptable. We’ll call you back on this number tomorrow if it goes well with Jonathan. If it doesn’t, you’ll never hear from us again, and your wife and son will die of thirst within the next few days.”

He made no reply, though Will could hear him breathing.

“Acknowledge that you heard me, Javier.”

“I heard you.”

Kalyn pressed END.

“We have to change the meeting place,” Will said. “I’m not cool with Javier knowing where we’ll be. He may not warn Jonathan, but I could see him coming after us.”

“All right. I’ll text Jonathan, ask him to pick another spot.”

I-84 west through Idaho. Twin Falls. Gooding. Mountain Home. When they were within the Boise city limits, Kalyn spotted a shopping mall from the interstate, made the exit just in time.

It was midafternoon, and they rode under a brilliant autumn sky, leaves peaking, deep reds and blinding yellows along the riverbanks, the brown hills that rose up behind the skyline dusted with snow.

“Let’s shop,” Kalyn said, pulling into a parking space in front of the sprawling mall.

“For who?” Will asked.

Kalyn glanced back from the driver seat. “You. Look at yourself.”

Will glanced down at his two-day-old clothes—ancient pair of jeans, tennis shoes, faded flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“She’s right, Dad,” Devlin said. “You need a serious makeover.”

“This is a style.”

Kalyn laughed. “What’s it called?”

“Colorado living. Outdoor man. You could chop some serious firewood in this getup.”

“That’s a selling point?”

“You’re telling me women don’t like the chiseled, frontier man look?”

“Yeah, well, you need a new outfit for tonight. We’re not out to impress the ladies, Will. We’re trying to pass you off for an Alpha.”

The mall was dead. They ate a late lunch in the food court, spread out on a bench beside a fountain whose bottom lay covered in green pennies and the occasional nickel.

As they rose to leave, the BlackBerry registered a new message.

Kalyn pulled it out of her purse, scanned the screen, sighed with relief. She said, “He wrote back, ‘Exit 64. Café at Big Al’s. OK.’ ”

Kalyn and Devlin were leading Will through the men’s section of the Gap.

“So what look are we like going for?” Devlin asked.

“I was thinking all black,” Kalyn said.

“I like these.” Devlin fingered a pair of leather pants, Will thinking, This is as happy as I’ve seen her in ages. “What’s your waist, Dad?”

“Thirty-four.”

Devlin thumbed quickly through the pants and finally slipped a pair off the rack, handed them to her father. “Tell you what would be rad with those,” Devlin said. She made for a rack of shirts, squealed with joy when she found what she was looking for, proudly holding up a black silk shirt with mother-of-pearl buttons.

“You go, girl,” Kalyn said as Will sighed.

. . .

He stepped out of the dressing room and stood before his audience.

Kalyn said, “Undo the top two buttons.” He did. “That’s perfect, Will.”

“Yeah, let’s go clubbing,” he said in his best Valley Girl voice.

“With that hair?” Kalyn said. “You gotta admit, Jav has style. But you’re getting there.”

Will stared at himself in the mirror as the stylist ran her fingers through his light brown hair.

Kalyn said, “I’m thinking keep it kind of long, like it is, and dye it black. I want him to be able to push it back with some pomade.”

“Kind of a greaser look you’re going for?”

“I’m not sure how to explain what I—”

Devlin came over with a huge book of male models sporting pretentiously trendy hairstyles, and said, “I think this is what we want.”

Kalyn smiled. “Yes. Good, Devi. This is it exactly.”

Will said, “These are the most ridiculous things I’ve ever seen.”

“Okay, I partly agree, but it’s all we have to work with. No one will be able to tell they aren’t leather at night.”

He stared down at the pair of black suede, steel-tipped cowboy boots. “You guys are killing me. You know that, right?”

“It works, Dad. Trust me.”

“I don’t look like one of the Village People?”