“So, it was hers?” Trena figured it was, but as a responsible journalist, she needed Larsen to confirm it.
“Oh, it’s hers. Her prints are all over it. You’re welcome to come, if you want to witness firsthand. If not, give me an hour, then feel free to post whatever you want.”
Trena watched as he made his way out the door; then, reaching for her wallet, she tossed a twenty onto the table and followed.
FORTY
HIGHWAY TO HELL
Ryan pulled to the side of the road as Aster studied the map Javen had printed for her. He was right about the cabin being remote. The car’s GPS had just quit and there was nothing in the vicinity that even resembled a place where someone might live.
A moment later, Layla pulled up beside them, and Tommy rolled down his window. “I think it’s right up the road there.”
Aster stared grimly in the direction Tommy was pointing. The sun had fallen, and aside from the moon, a constellation of stars overhead, and the headlights on their cars, the area was enveloped in darkness.
“Seems kind of spooky,” she said, mostly to herself, though she felt comforted when Ryan was quick to agree.
“You want to turn back?” Tommy asked, only partially joking.
Everyone looked at her then, like it really was hers to decide. And in a way, she guessed it was. She had the most riding on the outcome. Which was exactly why she needed to keep moving forward.
“No. Let’s do this,” she said, thinking if she spoke with conviction she might start to feel it. “You guys follow us.”
She motioned for Ryan to go, then held fast to the door handle as the car bumped along the deeply rutted drive, occasionally scraping the bottom.
“There goes the transmission,” Ryan quipped. “Not to worry, though, we’ll fetch it on the way back, along with the tailpipe.”
Aster squinted into the darkness, unable to discern much of anything other than the ghostly form of a few random Joshua trees, their skeletal limbs reaching up toward the sky as though praising some invisible deity known only to them. “Shit,” she groaned, shaking her phone. “I can’t get a cell signal! You?”
Ryan checked his cell and shook his head.
“Great. That’s just great.” She groaned in frustration. “How’s Javen supposed to lead us to the tracker if we can’t reach him?”
“The tracker’s with Madison,” Ryan reminded her. “If she’s here, then I’m assuming we’ll find her soon enough. According to Javen, it’s a small cabin, which leads me to believe there’s not a whole lot of places for someone to hide.” Aster was about to concede he was probably right, when he said, “Look—just up there—straight ahead. I think that’s it.”
She leaned forward in her seat and peered through the dust-covered windshield, able to make out a small, one-story structure that, from what she could see, resembled more a shack than a cabin.
“Jeez,” she mumbled in disdain. “I know the whole point of a second home is to escape the daily grind, but this is ridiculous.”
“But maybe that’s not the whole point of this place,” Ryan said. “Maybe this isn’t about getting away so much, as it is keeping other people away.”
Aster took a moment to consider his words. “Sounds kind of Unabomber-ish, don’t you think?”
Ryan shrugged. “Good place to hide a hostage, that’s all I’m saying.”
The cabin glowed under the beam of their headlights, and a moment later, Aster directed Ryan to pull over and park. “I don’t want to get too close,” she explained, as Ryan stopped the car and started cranking the wheel hard to the left. “What are you doing?”
“Positioning for a quick escape, just in case.”
“Good thinking.” She nodded, impressed with his foresight.
“Learned that on set for a mystery pilot I shot that was never picked up. Never thought I’d ever use it to aid my own real-life investigation.”
With both cars situated for a speedy getaway, they relied on the lights from their phones to find their way to the property.
“How do you feel about snakes?” Layla asked.
“Do you seriously have to ask?” Aster cried, furious with Layla for mentioning that. Despite the unrelenting desert heat that made LA feel like a mild day at the beach, Aster found herself shivering at the mere thought of snakes slithering around her feet.