Lost Contact (The Bridge Sequence Book One) Page 8

  “And you think they’re still around?” I asked.

  “They are… and they’re much more threatening than ever.”

  I considered the men outside of El Mirador… my townhouse being broken into… the car that might be following me. “Do they know who I am?”

  Marcus laughed nervously. “Why would they care who you are? You’re a prof in Boston.”

  “They know you, Rex. That’s why you must accept my help. We need to find the Bridge.” Hunter’s hand continued to tremble as he reached for his drink, and I passed it to him.

  “Why the urgency? If you’ve been searching for this long, what’s the rush?” I asked him. “Plus, you say you’ve visited this Estrelas before.”

  “If I explain, will you consider my offer?” came his reply.

  Marcus was on the edge of his seat, clearly invested in our conversation. I could tell he wanted to join forces with this rich man, if only for the romantic idea of an adventure, but seeing the chanting cloaked Believers in that footage had me worried. “I’ll contemplate it.”

  “There are two reasons why I must reach the Bridge,” he started. “The Believers foretold of an age where we’d encounter visitors from another planet. They’d come from the outer reaches of the solar system and arrive at Earth: not to meet us peacefully, but to rule our kind.”

  “And they encourage this?” Marcus barked.

  “They’ll welcome them as part of their demented fantasy. Their minds are brainwashed, and they actually believe they’ll be rewarded for their faith and patience.”

  “And you think this is related to what? The shapes near Pluto?” I asked, trying to determine if Hunter Madison was as mad as the cult he spoke against.

  “It doesn’t matter if I believe the object is related, but that they do. Things are in motion here, Rex, things that will be dire to our planet if we don’t act on it.” Hunter spoke with so much passion, I instantly found myself trusting him.

  “You said there were two reasons why it was imperative,” I reminded him. “That’s only one.”

  “The other is my own selfish motivation.”

  “Which is?”

  The screen flipped off, leaving the room darker. Shadows creased his face as he leaned closer. “I’m dying.”

  8

  “What do you make of this?” Marcus asked when we were alone.

  I paced around the study, scanning each priceless artifact Hunter had collected over the decades, and tried to piece together, everything we’d heard. It was still early afternoon, but I felt like the sun should be descending any moment.

  “He seems to believe what he’s telling us, and he had my father’s trust, enough to partner with him for a few years. But… Dad did cut Madison out at the end. He didn’t tell him everything about the Bridge or the clues he and Clayton found. That speaks volumes to me,” I admitted.

  “We don’t have any evidence about why Dirk stopped working with him. There could have been extraneous factors we’re not accounting for,” Marcus said with a sideways grin. “Are you going to look at the envelope?”

  I peered around the room, confident there was surveillance in here. I stepped closer to Marcus and lowered my voice. “Don’t discuss the coordinates we found.”

  He nodded, glancing at the corners of the study. “No problem.”

  I returned to the chairs and stared at the circular table. The stark white envelope was out of place on the rich wood, and I snatched it up.

  The check inside was printed on thick paper stock, golden edges outlining it. I read the details.

  Paid to the order of: Rexford Walker.

  In the amount of: One hundred thousand dollars

  Hunter Madison’s signature was sprawling and illegible, but I knew it was his. I’d come across stubs left over from payments to my father, stored at my mom’s for years.

  Marcus grabbed the check, pumping a fist in the air. “Rex, imagine what we could do with this money.”

  I stuck my hand out, palm up, and he hesitantly returned it to me. I slid it back inside the envelope and dropped it onto the table. “We can’t take his money.”

  “You heard what he said. If this Bridge is real, we have to look for it. And what about these Believers? What if this is the end, and we can help prevent it?”

  I appraised the young man, the clever student I’d taught in college and had been close friends with ever since. “Marcus, you don’t really buy in to all of this, do you?”

  “Why the hell not? We’ve discussed the possibility of life on other planets enough for me to know you believe in aliens too. Man, this is crazy.” Marcus paced the study, but my eyes remained fixed on the envelope.

  “If we say yes, we have to make a deal. This is the only venture with Madison’s money. We check out our lead, and if it doesn’t take us anywhere, we return the leftover money and go home—”

  “Imagine if we find something.”

  “Deal?” I asked, ready to shake on it.

  “Rex, this could be…”

  “Marcus, I need you here with me. Do we have a deal?” I offered my grip, and he nodded, shaking my hand.

  “Deal.”

  The door opened, and in walked Hunter. His eyes were droopy, his voice slightly slurred when he spoke, but the fire had returned. “I take it you’re accepting my offer?”

  “Consider it a loan,” I told him.

  “Nonsense. I know you’re holding your cards close to your chest, but, Rex, if you find what you’re hoping for, I’ll be here to assist your search for the Bridge. And your father.” Adding in the last bit was a dirty trick, but it was obvious the older man was desperate.

  “Okay, but don’t hold your breath.”

  “Francois will show you to your chambers.” Hunter picked up the check and passed it over. “I’ll join you for dinner in a couple of hours. Perhaps you’ll be more forthcoming after the chef’s Paella Valenciana.”

  He sat down as Francois appeared at the study’s doorway, waiting for us. I trailed after him, glancing back to Hunter before leaving. His eyes were closed, and I noticed him clenching his fist, lips moving ever so slightly.

  “I can’t wait to check out this house,” Marcus said. Today had started off with a longshot, and suddenly, I’d been thrown into a scenario bigger than I’d ever imagined.

  We climbed a flight of stairs, ending in a landing that overlooked a massive living space and the front foyer. The hallway led to a series of bedrooms, and Francois motioned for Marcus to enter one on the left. The servant had yet to speak, and I considered asking him a question but held back. Instead, I allowed him to show me to the room across the hall, and I told Marcus I’d see him in a few minutes. I needed some alone time.

  With Francois gone and Marcus in his own quarters, I studied my surroundings. It was finer than any hotel I’d ever stayed in. With its own bathroom and gas fireplace, the space was fit for a king. I found my suitcase at the corner of the bed, and I pulled out my laptop, opening my email. I didn’t know his wi-fi, and couldn’t trust that Hunter wasn’t spying, so I used my phone as a hotspot and linked up, retrieving a handful of emails.

  They were mostly from students, and I replied, letting the work distract me. My sister had texted me, wondering about the Christmas holidays, and when I started to flip my laptop closed, a message from Richard Klein appeared.

  Subject: Gathering

  Hello, Rex. I was hoping you’d be able to attend a dinner party at my house next Friday. I have some friends from the board coming and thought you might be interested in meeting them. Please let me know at your earliest convenience. I was in your neighborhood earlier, but you weren’t home. Hope to hear from you soon.

  Your friend,

  Doctor Richard Klein

  I let out a frustrated breath of air. I’d stated numerous times that I wasn’t leaving my job, but I also appreciated his intensity. He was a mentor of mine, and I was honored that he thought so highly of my teaching ability.

  I hit “Reply”
and started typing a message.

  Richard, as you know, I’m comfortable where I am, but I might be able to come by. I have much to prepare for finals, but maybe I can sneak away for dinner.

  Be in touch,

  Rex

  I hit send before I could talk myself out of it. My father’s words from his journal rang though my mind as I closed the computer. If life gives you an opportunity, say yes. No one has lived to the fullest overusing the word no.

  The younger me hadn’t understood the exact meaning of his words, but now it felt like he was trying to tell me something. A lesson from the past.

  Someone knocked on my door, and a second later, Marcus’ head was poking into the room. “Rex, time to ditch the tie. There’s tennis courts in the back.”

  I laughed and waved him inside. “It’s November. Not really tennis weather.” My jacket sat near the door, and I recognized the book we’d pilfered from Hardy’s place. In all the excitement, we’d forgotten about it altogether. “Marcus, Hardy’s journal.”

  He raised an eyebrow and snatched it up. Lacking any grace, he bounded onto the bed and opened the cover. “This is bizarre.”

  The book was covered in symbols and writing, but not in a language I’d ever seen before. “See if you can scan something and cross-reference it with your database. It could be a primitive dialect.” I flipped through it, seeing more of the same squiggly lines. From this vantage point, it appeared to be the ramblings of a madman, but judging by the age of the binding and the cracks in the leather spine, Hardy had written it when he was much younger.

  I closed the journal and handed it to Marcus. “It’s always another mystery. Why can’t anything ever be simple?”

  ____________

  Dinner was incredible, and I dropped the napkin on my empty plate. The food had been spicy, and I already knew I’d be desperate for an antacid before bed, but at the moment, I thought it might be the best paella I’d ever had. Marcus was onto seconds, but Hunter had barely touched his food.

  The dining room was ridiculously large, but his décor was simple and tasteful. White wainscoting; tray ceilings holding fixtures with minimalistic medallions. It was less distracting than I’d expect from such a mansion, and it told me a few things about the billionaire beside me.

  “Why have you never been married, Rex?” Hunter asked out of the blue.

  I sipped from a stemmed glass, enjoying the smoothest red Spanish wine I’d ever tasted. “It hasn’t happened.”

  “It’s because he’s too closed off to let anyone in,” Marcus said from across the table. “I’ve been trying to convince him to do some dating for years, but he rarely goes on a second one. It’s kind of sick.”

  I frowned at him, wondering why he’d tell Hunter any of that. “I haven’t met the right woman, that’s all.”

  Hunter set his fork down and dabbed at his lips with a napkin. “This life isn’t for everyone. It’s difficult to keep a partner who understands our obsessions. I had one, once…” His voice drifted with his gaze. “She was everything I ever wanted, but…”

  “What happened?” Marcus asked.

  “She left years ago. We weren’t copacetic, so it seems.”

  “Was it mutual?” I found myself intrigued. I’d expected the wealthy collector to be more difficult to hold a conversation with. My experiences with him as a younger man had been rushed and short-lived, but now, I hated how much I was appreciating the dialogue. Here was a man that had legitimately known my father for years. It was a connection I’d never sought before.

  “I have to say that almost any decision in life, when made by two people, is rarely mutual, Rex. Sometimes one person is for or against one side, and the other is leaning that way, but it’s not the same as being equal in the outcome.”

  “Meaning you had reservations, but she did the walking,” Marcus offered, making Hunter laugh.

  Hunter turned his attention to Marcus. “Yes, Marcus, you’ve read the situation correctly. And you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Do you wish for a long and healthy existence? Perhaps with a wife, offspring tearing up the carpets and drawing dinosaurs on the wallpaper?” Hunter asked.

  Marcus paused eating, his fork hovering with a piece of sausage near his lips. “Nope. No kids for me. I prefer the bachelor lifestyle at this point anyhow. I mean, I couldn’t leave for Venezuela if I was tied down.”

  And there it was. I’d asked Marcus to keep our destination a secret, but the moment it leaked, I understood exactly what the old man had been doing. He’d been lulling us into complacency, confident we’d slip about our mission.

  To his credit, Hunter didn’t comment on the error. “Children can be far more rewarding than that. It’s one of my biggest regrets.”

  Francois was there to clean up our dishes, and he refilled our wine glasses, even though I shook my head when he drifted behind my shoulder. “Look, Hunter, we’re going to take the money, but I’d prefer to keep the details between Marcus and me for the time being.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t want to get a dying man’s hopes up, would we?”

  “It’s not going to work. I think I may have found something that can lead us to the Bridge, but if it falls flat, I’m hanging up my hat. You’ll have to dangle your money in front of someone else,” I told him.

  Marcus raised a hand, his index finger lifted. “I could always—”

  I amended my statement. “Marcus and I will be done if we don’t discover the next clue.”

  “Very well. It’s getting late, and I have to be leaving.” Hunter Madison rose, still in his expensive suit, and smoothed his tie with his palm.

  I was in jeans and a sweater, opting for more comfort, and I peered at an old grandfather clock just as the hands struck ten PM, a chime ringing as many times. “See you in the morning.”

  “I’m afraid I have some business to attend to. The driver will return you to the city. Be ready at nine in the morning. Francois will see to your breakfast.” Hunter stepped over, his arm extended. I rose from the chair, shaking it, and he tugged me closer, his breath smelling like wine. “I have the utmost faith in you, Rex Walker. I know you don’t believe everything I’ve said today, but I want to leave you with a few questions. What if it’s all real? What if your father found this Bridge and traveled somewhere? What if the Believers are right? Keep an eye on the sky.”

  And with that, he was gone, abandoning us in the expansive dining room. I waited until the clipping of Hunter’s heels on the hardwood had dissipated, and downed the glass of wine.

  “This wasn’t how I expected things to go,” I told Marcus.

  “Are you kidding me? Best day of my life,” he said, grinning as he finished his own drink.

  We exited the dining room, and I noticed the trees in the backyard bending sideways. I expected to find a raucous storm blowing in from the ocean, but spotted the blades of a helicopter instead. It landed on a concrete pad, and we watched through the sprawling living room windows as Hunter pulled his jacket tight, crossing the yard with Francois directly behind, carrying his bag. The copter lifted a few minutes later, and Hunter’s servant glanced up toward us from the landing pad.

  “Good luck sleeping tonight,” Marcus whispered.

  ____________

  We drove most of the way in silence, with our uncertainty vacant from the bits of conversation we did share. It was mid-afternoon on Sunday when we entered Boston’s city limits, and a few snowflakes stuck to my windshield. It was finals week, and I had far too much to prepare for, not to mention booking flights and details for our visit to Venezuela. I hadn’t looked into the country’s current political standings for a while, and asked Marcus to do some research before jumping in blindly. In the end, I assumed we’d be entering from Mexico under the guise of a humanitarian venture. I was lucky to have an acquaintance who didn’t mind me using her foundation as a cover on my more delicate trips.

  As I travelled to Marcus’ apartment complex, I saw a group
of volunteers decorating a giant Christmas tree in the park. “Are you heading home for the holidays?”

  “To Florida? Man, I hate leaving all this for the sunny beaches. I never thought I’d love the season so much until I came up here. Snow, trees, sled rides. I know, you wouldn’t expect it from me, right?” Marcus asked.

  “You seem to forget that I saw those pictures of you singing carols in an elf costume,” I reminded him. The roads were busy coming into town, but near Marcus’ place, traffic had eased off, providing a clear line of sight through my rear view mirror.

  “That was for a girl, and she was…”

  I slammed on the brakes, catching the same black-tinted car tailing us for the last ten minutes or so.

  “What are you doing?” Marcus asked, but I was already running from the driver’s side, my flashers on.

  “What the hell do you want?” I shouted at the car, my heart racing as I dashed for the BMW.

  It had stopped twenty yards behind, and instead of confronting me, the driver opted to speed off, nearly clipping me in the process. A minivan coming in the opposite direction swerved to avoid a collision and rolled his window down, shouting obscenities. I lifted a shaky hand, expressing my apologies, and he tore away, honking loudly.

  “Did you get the plate?” I shouted to Marcus, who stood recording the incident with his cell phone.

  He didn’t reply for a second, and I saw him zooming on the image. A moment later, he shook his head. “Sorry, Rex.”

  Someone had a lot of interest in my whereabouts these days, and if it had nothing to do with Hunter Madison, it had to be a connection to the Believers.

  9

  “Time is complete,” I told the class, walking through the rows of seats toward the door. “Please hand in the tests on my desk in a neat pile, and enjoy the holidays.”

  Luca was the first to stand, cockily crossing the room and setting his exam down. “Nailed it.”