Chapter 15
We filled out a police report at the station. Afterward, Dusty asked us, "How long do you boys plan on being in town?”
"I think we've pretty much worn out our welcome,” I said. “But we might come back.”
"Tell you what, I'll keep you in the loop on this. I’ll try to find out who attacked you on the highway, and you’ll keep me in the loop if you piece together these crimes.”
"Sounds like a deal," I said.
We shook hands, but I didn't trust Dusty.
He offered us a ride back to the motel, which we accepted. Marcus had his girlfriend pick him up at the station. We thanked him and said our goodbyes. I’m sure Isabella would take care of him.
We hopped in with the sheriff, and he drove us back to the motel. This time I rode up front with JD in back.
Nobody said anything on the short trip.
Dusty pulled into the parking lot and drove up to the main entrance.
He put the vehicle in park, then looked at me.
"You two might want to think twice about spending any more time in this town than you have to.
I'm not telling you to get out of town. But you'd be foolish to think whoever tried to kill you wouldn't try again.”
I couldn't quite tell if that was friendly advice or a warning. "Good point. We’ll be out of here first thing in the morning, unless I can arrange something sooner.”
"Best of luck to you both," he said.
We shook hands again and stepped out of the vehicle. Dusty drove away, and we watched him go. It wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out what room we were staying in, but we both waited till he was out of view before walking back to our luxurious suite.
I shared a look with JD. He was thinking the same thing I was.
Back in the room, the AC blasted cold.
I wasn’t one to back down from a fight, but sometimes you’ve got to pick your battles. We needed to get to LA. I had a feeling we’d find more answers there.
I called Isabella, and she answered after a few rings.
"Slight problem," I said, then filled her in on the details.
"I’d say you're getting close."
"My thoughts exactly, but we’re not going to get anywhere here. Think you can get a midnight charter out of here?”
"Let me see how soon I can get an aircraft to you. Might be a couple of hours.”
I looked at my watch. It was fast approaching midnight. “First thing in the morning is fine.”
"That gives me a little more time to coordinate something. Stay safe in the meantime and call me if you need anything.”
"Will do," I said before ending the call.
I grabbed the ice bucket and made a few trips to the machine. I popped some ibuprofen and iced my neck and sore spots, trying to get ahead of it.
Needless to say, our current situation made for a long, sleepless night. We both slept with one eye open.
Isabella called me back around 4:00 AM. She said she had a pilot en route who would be there around 6:00 AM. That was fine by me. I was ready to get the hell out of Stillwater.
I pulled myself out of bed, feeling stiff and sore.
I took a quick shower, then gathered my things.
Once JD was ready, we walked across to the Waffle Wizard and grabbed breakfast. At this hour, the crowd was thin.
A few late-night drunkards who hadn’t been to bed yet.
Several long-haul truckers with weathered faces, guzzling coffee.
A couple of tourists out to get an early start.
We kept our heads on swivels, not letting our guard down.
If we kept connecting the dots, someone would keep shooting at us. That was certain.
We feasted on blueberry pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, and fueled up on French roasted coffee.
After we stuffed our faces, I called for a rideshare.
A young guy in a silver sedan showed up 15 minutes later.
JD and I grabbed our bags and kept a watchful eye as we hustled out to the silver sedan. We hopped in back after stuffing our bags in the trunk.
The driver had dark hair and sleepy eyes. He looked tired, like he’d been driving all night. Or maybe he just wasn’t a morning person.
He took us to the airport and dropped us off.
There was no one around, and I mean no one.
We waited in the terminal for our plane to arrive.
They had free Wi-Fi and a restroom. The place was open 24/7, but only staffed during normal hours.
This was the kind of place that offered self-pump jet fuel. They didn’t have full FBO services.
The G-750 arrived right on time. The tires barked when it landed.
JD and I made our way out to the tarmac as the plane taxied around. The crew opened the clamshell door. We climbed the steps and boarded the plane.
We greeted the pilot, co-pilot, and cabin attendant.
JD and I stowed our gear, took our seats, and buckled up for the flight.
This was a tricky airport. With a high elevation atop a plateau, it was perched in a precarious position between two canyons. At liftoff, you would have to make a rapid ascent to avoid the mountains ahead. Then you'd have to veer right to avoid restricted airspace.
It wasn’t long before the plane rocketed down the runway. The pilot nosed up, and we ascended into the sky. The landing gear retracted with a clunk. We cleared the mountains, and I leaned back in my seat. In less than 2 hours, we’d be in Los Angeles.
Isabella had given me contact information for Brooke Larson's mother, who lived in Marina Del Ray. I did a little research on the flight.
Brooke was a gorgeous blonde with flowing hair that kissed her shoulders. Her classic features, blue eyes, and sun-kissed skin could hypnotize. There were more than a few pictures of her in a skimpy bikini on her social media profile. There hadn’t been any recent updates.
Beauty and brains, Brooke Larson had it all. Until she disappeared, just like Michelle Morgan.