Page 62 of Hoodoo House
Declan gently took Charlie by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “We don’t want innocent people to get hurt through this, and we also have to respect the confidentiality of our clients. Cody White is a client. Sinclair Yamada is a client. ButBurlyBiker27is not. And I promise if we uncover something else that leads another direction, we’ll find a way to turn over the backup files to the RCMP at the right time in the right way.”
“Okay,” Charlie said. “I should also clear the computer’s search history of references to Tull’s Proton account. That way we don’t have to worry about the police stumbling across the emails from Sinclair and Cody. I’ll still be able to access them later if we need them.”
“Smart man,” Declan said. “You get on that and I’ll call Sinclair and ask him to meet us at Hoodoo House at six to fill him in on what we’ve found. Charlie, we’ll get to the bottom of this one way or the other.”
* * * *
The morning went by quickly as Charlie removed the files and backed them up to an encrypted site. Then he made his way home to Carrie, who gave him an earful for not texting, although she seemed less angry when she found out where Charlie had been. It was close to two o’clock by the time Charlie got back to the office.
“You all right if I drive today?” Declan asked. “I’m kinda enjoying the Beast.”
“Sure.” Charlie said.
“All right. Grab the computer and let’s go.”
Charlie paused. “Just one more thing. Meet me in the back parking lot by the car.”
Ten minutes later, Charlie came out of the back door to Gwen’s Café with coffees and a brown paper bag. He passed Declan his coffee through the driver’s window.
“What’s in the bag?” Declan asked.
“You and I are now part of an experiment,” Charlie said. “Gwen’s branching out into sandwiches and she wanted us to try some. I figured since we haven’t had lunch…”
In a matter of minutes, the sandwiches were gone.
Declan passed Charlie his coffee, “No cupholders. I guess you still get to hold this. We’d better get on the road.”
They made their way north along Highway 2 and, just past Airdrie, turned east onto secondary Highway 567. Charlie remembered his last time in Airdrie a few months ago, where the case they had been working on had taken a turn for the worse. He put the memory behind him and watched the prairie scenery go by.
As they turned north on Highway 9, Charlie noted a sign that said they were within forty-five minutes of Drumheller. The road continued in wide ninety-degree arcs which skirted fields of freshly harvested wheat. They kept heading east, then north then east, then south, until eventually the highway took a much sharper bend to the north. Charlie gasped as the ground dropped away from the farmers’ fields. Where the flat lands should have continued, instead, a giant hole in the earth opened up and there was a maroon-striped gorge that appeared out of nowhere. It was Horseshoe Canyon. Charlie had been there a few times as a kid, but he’d forgotten how awe-inspiring it was. His reverie was interrupted by a loud roar.
A motorcycle raced by and pulled in front of the car. A second bike pulled up beside them, driving in the empty oncoming traffic lane, matching their speed.
“Declan?” Charlie said, trying not to sound overly concerned.
“I see ‘em. And there’s another one coming up our rear.”
Charlie turned around and looked out through the back window. There he was—a biker in a black leather jacket, helmet and goggles. The first thing that came to mind wasAdolph Moses,but the guy behind the car looked different. He had a long blond beard blowing back from his face.
“Charlie. Don’t panic,” Declan said calmly.
Charlie saw the biker on the driver’s side of the car. He was aiming a handgun at Declan.
As Charlie tried to make himself as small as possible, an oncoming car came around the curve and blared their horn as they were forced onto the shoulder of the road. The biker didn’t give an inch.
Charlie poked his head up and saw a sign for a parking lot coming up ahead. Declan said, “I’m pulling over. Do whatever they ask but do it slowly. No quick moves, okay?”
“Sure,” was all that Charlie could muster.
The small motorcade pulled up to the viewpoint parking lot. Signs indicated that the lot was closed for the season. The biker in the lead managed to force the gate open then drove in. The biker that had been riding beside them, with a silver lightning bolt decal on his helmet, pulled in front and led the car in. In the rearview mirror, Charlie saw the blond bearded biker close the gate and follow. Once they’d come to rest at the edge of the canyon, the three bikers dismounted and approached the car, guns drawn.
“Charlie, do what I do,” Declan said.
Declan unsnapped his seat belt and slowly opened his door. He raised his hands so the bikers could see that he had nothing in them. Charlie did the same. Both got out of the Beast.
The biker that had been in the lead motioned to Charlie to get around to the driver’s side of the car.
The biker with the long blond beard tucked his gun into his belt and came up to Declan. He patted him down. Charlie assumed he was looking for a gun. He then did the same with Charlie.
