Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) (7 page)

Jason looked up towards the sky.
The trees seemed to be spinning… slowly at first, but soon the combination of
dark skies, stars, and the leaves above became nothing but a blur. He initially
thought he was seeing an illusion, due to the fact that he had just been beaten
senseless… but then he felt himself began to shift towards the outer edge of
the merry-go-round. That was when he realized he really was spinning.

Allowing
the
centrifugal
force of the whirling merry-go-round to roll his head over in the
direction of its outer edge, Jason caught a quick glimpse of the Spanish kid,
his tormentor, flash by, spinning him faster and faster. The next time around,
his attacker was squatted down beside the merry-go-round.

“Hey,”
he called out as Jason zipped by. He then began to ask a question in intervals
as Jason came around again and again. “How does,” on the first lap, “it feel,”
on the second, “to be,” on the third, “a loser?” Jason united the broken question
and the answer to it came easy. Terrible. It felt terrible to be a loser.

Next
time around, the young man had risen to his feet.  “You’d better hang on,”
he told Jason. “It’s going to be a wild ride.” On the next rotation, the young,
baby-faced fighter was walking away, and the next he was gone.

Jason
had been gradually slipping towards the edge the entire time, but now he was on
a part of the metal that had been worn down by the feet of children at play.
Soon, he felt himself begin to slide faster and faster. He tried to reach out
and grasp some means of support, but his hands felt like spaghetti.

“I’m
sorry I lied to you, Misty,” Jason murmured right before he felt himself
sailing through the air. Sand and gravel ripped at his skin as he smashed face
first into the ground. After skidding for a few seconds, he came to a stop on
his stomach.

Lying
there totally helpless caused him to reflect, for a moment, on what the outcome
of tonight was supposed to have been – Rising high above it all, being seen as
a hero, placed on a pedestal and seen as someone who could not be brought low…
but here he was, flat on his face as blood oozed from it in several locations.
He lifted his dizzy head and watched as the red beads began dripping from the
tip of his nose to the ground. As soon as they hit, they were soaked up by the
sand. He was torn without and within, still as limp and helpless as a fallen
teddy-bear. Jason now knew he was far from in control.

It
was then that he remembered the words Misty had spoken a short time before,
quoting her sister, Susan. “God is the only one who has complete control.”

He
let out a moan filled with loss and pain before trying to rise. Reaching up, he
grasped one of the bars on the merry-go-round, using it for support. It swayed
side-to-side as he struggled to find his feet. Finally, he stood on wobbly
legs, bracing against the merry-go-round. After standing there for a moment,
still trying to regain his strength, he shoved off. Standing on his own
trembling limbs, he listened for signs of life around him. Nothing. The park
had returned to the original silence and emptiness from which it had been
stolen.

How
long had the kidnappers been gone? Seconds? Minutes? Was there any chance he
could catch them? Fueled by that thought, Jason began trying to run. The
direction they had taken Misty led back towards the area where he had left his
truck. Stumbling over his own feet, he began trying to run that direction.

He
had almost made it to his truck when he finally lost footing in the loose
gravel at the edge of the little street that ran along a portion of the park.
He fell in the small, sharp rocks with his hands outstretched and felt the pain
as they bit into his palms. He crawled slowly to his knees and looked up and down
the street several times. Nothing. Not a sight or a sound to indicate a
retreating vehicle. The three men, along with his wife, had vanished.

In
panic mode, Jason rose, pulled his cell phone out and dialed. Halfway through
the first ring it was answered. “Hello Jason,” Dr. Throckmorton greeted warmly.
“I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

“Yeah,
I bet not,” Jason spat back. “You probably thought I’d still be out cold.”

“Well,
if you are cold go home. We can do this another night.”

“Don’t
play dumb with me!” Jason seethed into the phone. “Where is she?”

“Where
is who?” The doctor sounded confused. “Jason, what are you talking about?”

Jason
growled in frustration. “I’m talking about you violating the rules of our
agreement! Or did you miss the part where I was supposed to win, not get my
face bashed in by your adolescent kung-
fu
fighter?”
Silence. “Your men… they attacked us! But I really don’t have to tell you that,
do I?”

Doctor
Throckmorton held his silence for a moment longer before slowly beginning to
speak, a puzzled note filling tone. “Jason… I just got off the phone with my
guys. They called upset because they were cold and getting tired of waiting.”

That
couldn’t be right. “How long ago?” Jason demanded.

“I
hung up with them to answer your call.”

Those
were the last words that Jason heard of the conversation. The phone slide from
his hand and struck the pavement with a crack. The doctor had just gotten off
the phone with his guys? And they were still waiting? That could only mean one
thing – She was really gone. Jason’s mind spun. Would they hold her for ransom?
For what? His maxed out credit cards? Didn’t make sense. Maybe they would call
with demands.

With
that thought, Jason frantically stooped down beside his phone, snatched it up
and pressed the button to turn it on. The screen remained blank. He shook the
phone desperately. It was his life-line that could tie him to Misty. What if he
couldn’t get it back on? What if the kidnappers tried to call with terms that
held her life in the balance… and he couldn’t answer? Jason held the button
down. Why wasn’t it working?

“Come
on, you stupid thing,” he degraded his upgraded phone. The screen finally
blinked to life and, in turn, Jason exhaled in relief.

A car
slide around the corner, and headlights struck Jason through the dark night.
His heart thumped. Leaping to his feet, he made a mad dash for his truck. It
could be the kidnappers. At this time of night, who else would it be? Couldn’t
let them get away! Not this time!

Grasping
the door handle, he pulled for all he was worth. The truck swayed to his side
but the door did not open to him. With a frustrated groan he remembered – Misty
had insisted that he lock the truck. The speeding car was getting closer.

“Keys!”
Jason shouted abruptly as he dug deep into one pocket, retrieving the key ring.

Let’s
see, key to the house that was up-side-down due to a heavy second mortgage, key
to the job he hated, key to that high dollar gym, key to the boat he couldn’t
afford. He really needed to simplify his life! Where was the truck key?

There!
Jason jammed it into the slot but couldn’t get the stubborn thing to unlock.
Recognizing his trouble, he pushed it all the way in and turned the lock. As he
tore the door open, the approaching car came to a screeching halt.

With
surprising agility for an older heavy-set man, the doctor leapt from the
vehicle almost before it had a chance to stop. “Jason! Jason!” he yelled. “It’s
me! It’s me!”

Jason
turned in surprise. “Tomas?” he demanded.

“Yes!
It’s me, Jason! What in the world is going on?” the doctor asked, his eyes wide.

Jason
placed his hand on the side of his truck and, in a voice weighed down with
despair, replied, “I was hoping you could tell me that.”

“What?
Tell you what?” the doctor asked, rushing forward. He came to an abrupt halt
when he noticed Jason’s new facial. “Jason, your face!” he gasped.

“She’s
gone,” Jason spoke loudly. “They took her,” he added, slamming his fist into
the side of his truck.

“Who?
Your wife?” Tomas asked, his eyes growing even wider.

“Yes,
my wife, Misty,” Jason spat. “Where are your guys?”

“On
the other side of the park at the pond,” Dr. Throckmorton spoke with a
bewildered look in his eye. “They’re still waiting on you.”

“Are
you positive?” Jason asked, his heart sinking.

Tomas
paused for a moment, seeming offended by the question. “Yes, I am.” As he
pulled out his cell phone, he added defensively, “but if you would like, I can
call them.” Without waiting for a reply, he began punching numbers into his
phone.

With
the piece to his ear, he paused, silent for a moment. “John,” he spoke loudly
into the cell phone as he turned his back to Jason and walked a short distance
away. “This is Tomas. Where are you and your men?” Silence.  “I know. I
know… No, you’re right; you’re supposed to be there, but our plans changed. Why
don’t you guys go on home, and I’ll settle with you in the morning.” Silence.
“No, nothing is wrong; nothing for you to be concerned with anyways.” He
paused. “Yes, it will be the same money… Okay, bye.” Turning back around to
Jason, he spoke, “I’m sorry, Jason, but they’re still over there.”

Jason
slid down the side of the truck. “How?” he asked, gazing past the doctor into
the park. “How could they still be there? With all the ruckus and yelling going
on, you'd think they would have heard.”

Tomas
looked down and kicked at the gravel before speaking. “They did hear.”

Jason’s
head jerked up,
fasening
his gaze on Tomas. “What?”
he questioned in disbelief. “Then why didn’t they come help us?”

The
doctor looked up at him with a bit of mirth in his eyes. “Let’s thing about it
Jason; we hired people to stage the attempted kidnapping of your wife. I think
that would rule out the preacher, his son, and any other do-gooders, don’t you?”

Jason
slammed his fist into the rocky ground, and the pain that came as a result
barley registered in his mind. Tomas was right. He ran his hands threw his
hair, from front to back, causing his look to take on an even wilder
appearance. Bringing his hands back forward, he buried his face in them. Doctor
Throckmorton walked over and squatted by Jason’s side for a little field
psychiatry.

“I
can’t believe this really happened,” Jason spoke, his words filled with
despair. “I had hoped that this was some kind of cruel joke on your part.”
After a moment he sighed. “What have I done?”

Before
the doctor could respond, Jason jumped to his feet. “I have to call the
police!” he shouted.

“I
already have,” Tomas assured him, rising to his side. “I did it on the way over
here. The only thing left for us to do is to wait.”

“If
you called them, then where are they?” Jason demanded.

Seemingly
in response to his question, a siren became audible, wailing in the distance.
Soon the night came alive with red and blue lights that moved and danced in a
lively rhythm. Dr. Throckmorton stepped to Jason’s side to watch the dramatic
display.

He
remained motionless and silent for a few seconds then leaned over to Jason.
“There’s really no need to mention my involvement in this mess,” he explained
in a quiet voice. “I was abiding by your plans, following your instructions and
something unexpected, which had nothing to do with me, happened. This could
ruin my reputation,” he added, lifting his hands. “So please, when they start
asking questions, I’m just a friend that you called for support.” With that,
Tomas stepped back in conclusion.

As
the emergency vehicle approached, Jason opened the door of his truck and
reached in, flashing his headlights. The sheriff’s car veered off towards them
and skidded to a stop on the gravel, a short distance from the truck. The
deputy that stepped out had a professional appearance, but under it you could
see how thrilled he was. He adjusted his gun belt just in case no one had
noticed it. Walking forward with a stride that seemed a bit exaggerated, he
extended his hand in greeting. “I’m Deputy Andrews. Is there anything I can do
for you?”

Was
he serious? “Yes,” Jason spat sarcastically, ignoring the extended hand. “We
can start by finding my wife and then work our way down from there.”

The
officer seemed a bit taken back by the retort. He had been so nice and
courteous only to have it flung back in his face. “Well, where did you last see
her?” the deputy asked as though he thought she may have fallen out of Jason’s
pocket.

“In
the park,” Jason yelled impatiently. If they were getting nowhere before then
they were peddling backwards now.

Just
then an ambulance arrived on scene then another car pulled up, and a short,
burly, middle aged man got out. In spite of the fact that the night was getting
colder and damper by the minute, he wore only a tee shirt and faded blue jeans.

“I’m
Sheriff Victor,” he spoke on approach and didn’t bother with a hand shake.
Looking at the deputy he said, “I’ll take it from here, Andrews.”