The Lost Throne

5

Payne read the text message several times, not sure what to make of it. Normally, he would’ve dismissed it as a joke — despite claims to the contrary — but for some reason it didn’t feel like one. Seventeen calls that started in the middle of the night screamed of urgency, not hilarity.

Without saying a word, he handed the phone to Jones and waited for his opinion.

Jones read it once. Then again. Then aloud. “This is not a prank. Life or death. Please call at once.” He paused for a moment, giving it some thought. “What the hell?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Jones clicked a few buttons, hoping to get additional information. “It was sent from a restricted number. Unfortunately, there’s no way to tell if the message came from the same phone as all the calls. It probably did, but we can’t tell for sure. At least not from your phone.”

“Meaning?”

“If I access the phone company’s server, I can locate the number. Even if it’s blocked.”

“Can you do that from Florida?”

Jones nodded. “With a computer and an Internet connection, I can do just about anything.”

“Well, that might not be necessary. I still haven’t listened to my voice mail.”

“Hold on. Before you do I want to check something.” Jones scrolled to a different screen and studied the time of each missed call. He quickly noticed a pattern. “Thirty minutes.”

“Excuse me?”

“Whoever it was called you every half hour. First call was 3:59 A.M. Next call was 4:30. Then 5:01. Then 5:29. And so on. All the way until 11:28.”

Payne grabbed the phone and looked at the times. It was true — the calls came approximately thirty minutes apart, except for an extra call at 9:14 A.M. “Who would call that often?”

“Someone desperate.”

Payne glanced at the clock. It was nearly 1:00 p.m. Nothing for the last ninety minutes.

One phrase echoed in his brain.

Life or death.

He prayed that wasn’t the reason the calls had stopped.

They spotted an empty bench near Little St. Mary’s where they could listen to the messages without any distractions. Jones had a pen in one hand and a windshield flier he had grabbed off a parked car in the other, ready to write names, numbers, or anything else he deemed important.

Payne turned on his speakerphone and hit play.

The first message was filled with static.

“Jon, my… ame is… I was… your number by… er. He told… you… help. I am call… you… phone. I don’t know the… I’ll have to… back. Please, it’s urgent.”

Payne hit the save button so they could listen to it over and over. Unfortunately, the quality of the sound didn’t improve during multiple attempts. Still, they learned some basic facts. The caller was a male with no detectable accent. He mentioned Payne by name, which meant it wasn’t a wrong number. And he stressed the urgency of the matter.

Not a lot to go on, but better than nothing.

The second message was recorded an hour later. And during that time, the static had worsened.

“Jon, I… early. I apologize… but… death. Someone is… us. Hello? Can… hear me?”

Payne frowned. “Is that my static or his?”

“Definitely his. Since you never answered the call, the message was recorded by the phone company on its server. So all the hissing and the dropped words are from his end.”

“Does that help us pinpoint his location?”

“Probably not,” Jones answered. “He could be calling from a rural area with poor coverage, or he could be in a major city with bad weather. Or he could be using a crappy cell phone. There are simply too many variables.”

Payne shrugged. He had figured as much.

“Play it again,” Jones said, “but concentrate on the second half.”

They listened to the message again. “Someone is… us. Hello? Can… hear me?”

Jones smiled. “Call me crazy, but I think he said someone is after us.”

Payne nodded in agreement. “I think you’re right. Of course, that leads us to the next question: Who is he with?”

“No way of knowing. Not from what we’ve heard.”

“So it could be his friend or wife.”

“Or kids.”

Payne frowned. “Great. Now we have to save an entire family.”

“Or maybe, just maybe, he’s alone. For all we know, this guy is delusional.”

Payne shrugged. “Either way, here’s the final message. It was left at 11:28, right after you fixed my phone. It’s the call I ignored at lunch.”

He pushed the button and listened to the caller.

Static was no longer a problem, yet somehow the call sounded distant. Muffled.

“Sorry, I had to switch phones. I’m using a pay phone now. Hopefully no one is listening. I will keep calling as long as I can, but I’m being watched… Damn! Where are you? Your friend assured me that I could trust you. Please. We need your help.”

They listened to it twice more before commenting.

Jones said, “He used the word we, so we’re definitely dealing with more than one person. Unfortunately, I can’t tell if your friend, whoever that is, is part of the we.”

“My guess is no. If my friend were there, he’d be calling me himself.”

“Unless he’s hurt. Or being held captive.”

“Great.”

“Any idea which friend?”

Payne shook his head. “Clueless. No idea at all.”

“Well, what time did—”

“Hold up,” Payne said, interrupting him. He clicked a few buttons on his phone until the first message was ready to play. “I’m not sure but he might’ve mentioned my friend in the first voice mail. It was garbled by static, but I think he did. Just listen.”

Payne hit Play, focusing on the second sentence.

“Jon, my… ame is… I was… your number by… er. He told… you… help. I am call… you… phone. I don’t know the… I’ll have to… back. Please, it’s urgent.”

Jones smiled, filling in the holes. “I was given your number by blank. Something that ends with — er. Like Miller. Or Harper. Know anyone like that who would give out your number?”

“Nothing rings a bell.”

“That’s okay. No pressure. Give it some time. It’ll come to you. It always does.”

Payne nodded halfheartedly. He appreciated Jones’s confidence but realized time was of the essence. It had been ninety minutes since the last call, an eternity in a life-or-death situation.

For all he knew, he was already too late.