Hotline to Murder (35 page)

Read Hotline to Murder Online

Authors: Alan Cook

Tags: #mystery, #crisis hotline, #judgment day, #beach, #alan cook, #telephone hotline, #hotline to murder, #las vegas, #california, #los angeles, #hotline, #suspense, #day of judgment, #end of days

“I was fishing, but I had to come in because
of this mess. I got the word that you spotted Nathan earlier. We’ve
had cars crisscrossing the area, but we haven’t seen him. We’ve got
all entrances to the Hahn Recreation Area covered. Maybe he’s
flown. What are you doing now?”

“Looking for the spot where this Ascension
into heaven is supposed to take place. Have you found Hodgkins or
any of his flock?”

“We’ve got units working on that too. LAPD
and the sheriff’s office have been working together, but they
haven’t been able to find this guy, Hodgkins. If you’re right about
him, maybe he’s already taken off with the loot.”

“Except that the website said to bring cash
tonight. But if there’s nothing happening tonight, maybe he’s
gone.”

“And by the time he gets to Phoenix, the
folks who trusted him will be crying. Anyway, we’re drawing a
blank. Don’t do anything stupid, but if you find anything, call me
immediately on this number.”

Tony wrote the number down and promised they
would call Croyden if they spotted the believers. At least Croyden
was asking for his help. Then he had a thought. He said, “Shahla
and I would like permission to go into the park.”

“Why? There’s nobody in there.”

“Just a hunch. If nobody is there, we’ll
come right back out.”

“It could be dangerous.”

“How could it be dangerous if nobody’s
there? I don’t think we’ll be attacked by rabbits.”

Croyden was silent for a few seconds,
apparently digesting this logic. Then he said, “All right, I’ll
clear it with the officers at the entrance. But be careful. I don’t
want to get my ass in a sling because you fell off a cliff.”

***

There was certainly nobody in the lower part
of the park. The area was relatively flat and open, except for an
occasional tree. A group of people would be easy to spot, even in
the dark, because they would need some sort of light.

“If all the entrances are being watched, how
could anybody get in?” Shahla asked.

Tony had been wondering the same thing to
try to justify what they were doing. He said, “In a park as large
as this one, there are probably ways to get in other than the
official ones. Maybe Hodgkins found one.”

“If he did find an alternate way in, it
probably leads to the ridge, near where those houses are.”

“Okay, we’ll go up the road to the east side
of the ridge. It’s paved.”

Tony drove up this road. A locked gate
blocked an additional loop of paved road that doubled as the ridge
trail at that point. There was a gap between the gate and a tree
that stood at the edge of a large grassy area, which Tony
remembered as being shown on the trail map as Janice’s Green
Valley. He squeezed the truck between the gate and the tree,
utilizing the four-wheel-drive feature to navigate the rough
terrain, and then climbed back onto the road and drove to the other
end of the loop.

He shut off the engine, and they opened
their windows. The night air was chilly, but not cold. They had put
on sweatshirts earlier. Shahla was wearing one of his old
sweatshirts that had shrunk with repeated washings. They could see
city lights in the distance, blinking like stars. The lights were
below them instead of above them, since the real stars weren’t
visible. Clouds hid them. It was an upside-down universe. It was
also a peaceful scene, as Tony had thought it would be when he had
seen it that afternoon—too peaceful for the thought of murder.

“This is as far as we can drive,” Tony said.
“But we can take the flashlight and walk along the ridge
trail.”

They also carried the crowbar and box cutter
as they started to walk west along the dirt path. It had some ups
and downs but was fairly easy to follow, even in the dark. They had
gone about a hundred yards when Shahla, who was in the lead with
the flashlight, stopped. Tony stopped beside her.

“Listen,” Shahla said.

Tony listened. He could hear something other
than the distant muffled noises of the city. “It sounds like
singing.”

“It is singing. Remember, the church website
said that they would sing until the Ascension. Tony, it’s
them.”

Tony felt himself getting excited. “It
sounds far away.” He looked at his watch. “We don’t have much time
before midnight. I don’t know if we can get there.”

“Remember where the trail goes up to the
other end of the ridge? Can the truck make it up that trail? If so,
we can probably drive right to them.”

The western end of the trail was dirt, but
it was wide enough for the truck. And the truck had
four-wheel-drive. “Okay, let’s do it.”

They turned and walked rapidly back toward
the truck, being careful not to fall on the rough trail. Once
there, Tony drove the truck back around the locked gate and then
accelerated down the hill.

“Should we call the police?” Shahla
asked.

“There isn’t time for them to get here
before midnight,” Tony said. “And the car they have at the entrance
can’t climb the hill. Wait until we see what the situation is. And
I’m going to need your eyes to help me drive up that trail.”

They arrived at the bottom of the trail
shortly thereafter. Tony slowed way down as he started uphill,
making sure to keep the truck in the center of the path. The trail
became fairly steep, but with its four-wheel-drive, the truck
didn’t have a problem with traction. He breathed a sigh of relief
when it leveled off at the top of the ridge.

Tony stopped the truck and turned off the
engine. Through the open windows they could hear the singing, much
louder than before. But because of the hilly terrain, they still
couldn’t see anybody.

“We’re close,” Shahla said. “I hope the
sound of our engine didn’t scare them.”

“Apparently it didn’t, or they would have
stopped singing.” Tony looked at his watch again. “Twelve minutes
to midnight. I’m going to drive another fifty yards and then stop
again. We’ve got to find out exactly where they are.”

They drove a short distance and stopped. The
singing was still ahead of them. Tony repeated the maneuver.

Shahla, whose seat in the truck was on the
south side of the ridge trail, said, “The singing is right below
us.”

They both got out of the truck, leaving the
doors open so as not to make excessive noise. They walked to the
edge of the hill and looked down. The singing grew louder and they
could see lights—candles. The people were lighting candles,
apparently in anticipation of imminent Ascension.

Tony’s first thought was that open flames
were prohibited in Southern California, where the fire danger in
September was extreme, especially in this brushy area. But if you
were about to ascend into heaven, you didn’t care about earthly
worries like brushfires. The sound of religious music in this
setting was eerie. And when Tony thought about what the singers
expected to do, he felt something crawling up his neck.

The people were sixty or seventy feet below
them, on a level area. A plateau that stuck out of the hillside.
Hodgkins must have spent some time looking for that particular
spot. It was inaccessible by motor vehicle. The only way to get to
it was to walk down a steep path from where Tony and Shahla were
standing. Tony could barely make out the path in the dark.

He had been right about one thing. The
faithful had found a way into the park, probably through the fence
that bordered the north side, not far from them. If they had cut a
hole in the fence, nobody would have noticed because of the
inaccessibility of the area, caused by the brush and the steepness
of the hill. Then they could clear a path from there to the ridge,
through the ice plant and the brush. And avoid the police.

There might be a hundred people, but it was
impossible to pick out individuals. Impossible to tell whether
Nathan and Tina were in the crowd.

“I’m going down there,” Shahla said. “It’s
too steep for you, with your knee.” She looked at her watch. “Ten
minutes to zero hour. Come back to the truck. I’ve got an
idea.”

Tony wanted to argue, but what she said was
correct. He couldn’t go down the steep hill with any speed.
Especially in the dark. And in ten minutes, when they expected to
ascend into heaven, what would happen? Would Nathan kill Tina and
then himself if the miracle didn’t occur immediately? There was no
way to tell. He had killed Joy. He was capable of anything.

Shahla was pulling the white tarpaulin out
of the back of the truck. “Help me,” she said.

“What’s this for?”

“I’ll tell you when we get it to the
edge.”

CHAPTER 39

Tony hoped that Shahla was clear of the path
that went from him to the plateau. He had watched her start down
it, with trepidation, but she had almost immediately melted into
the dark.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He turned on
the flashlight and propped it up on a small rock, right at the edge
of the cliff, so that the light shone upward at a steep angle. Then
he picked up part of the tarp and wrapped it around his body.
Fortunately, he didn’t have to pick up the whole thing, just enough
to give the appearance that he was wearing a white robe. In the
dark, nobody would see him that clearly, anyway.

When he had the tarp positioned around him,
he looked at his watch. At one minute to twelve he stepped in the
path of the beam of light and raised his arms. He was impersonating
Jesus. Jesus, who was bidding the faithful welcome to heaven. At
first, nobody below seemed to see him. And then somebody
shouted.

The singing stopped. Now they saw him. They
must be looking up at him. Good. This was the distraction Shahla
needed so that she could free Tina. If she could find her. She had
taken the box cutter to cut any tape holding Tina. But even though
he had urged her to take the crowbar, she had refused.

As Tony watched, the lights started
moving—toward him. The people were climbing the path because he was
going to lead them to heaven. He hadn’t figured on this. And they
were chanting. What were they saying? As the sound became louder,
he understood. They were chanting the name “Jesus” over and over.
The path was narrow, and they had to climb slowly, in single file,
but still he started to panic. What would happen when they reached
him and found out that he wasn’t Jesus?

He had to hold his position as long as he
could, to give Shahla a chance. Sweat poured down his face, in
spite of the night chill. The faithful would be plenty mad when
they found out the truth. Fortunately, it was taking them some time
to ascend the steep hill. Now he could begin to see their faces, by
the light of the candles. Could they make his out? Did he look
enough like Jesus?

He couldn’t stay here any longer. He dropped
the tarp, picked up the flashlight and ran a few feet away from the
edge, out of sight. Then he stopped. What should he do? He pondered
his options. He couldn’t drive away in the truck because he
couldn’t leave Shahla and Tina here, with Nathan on the loose. It
would be impossible to turn it around in the dark, anyway, without
driving off the cliff. But he also couldn’t face the angry
multitude. If they did him bodily harm, he wouldn’t be able to help
anybody. He closed and locked the doors of the truck and then went
a few feet down the other side of the ridge and hid behind some
brush.

Tony positioned himself so that he would be
able to see the people as they reached the top of the ridge,
especially if they still had their candles, but they wouldn’t be
able to see him in the dark. He waited, not daring to move. The
chanting grew louder.

He thought he heard a scream from below, but
the sound was muffled by the chanting, and he couldn’t tell for
sure. And it sounded far away. Maybe he had imagined it. Could he
ignore it? He heard it again. No. He had to check. He came out of
his hiding place, went to the edge of the cliff and carefully
looked down, not showing himself. The leaders were almost to the
top. He could follow the movement of the line of people, slowly
climbing the hill. But he couldn’t see anything else.

Tony retreated to his hiding place and
secreted himself again. Just in time. The leader rose out of the
earth. A head came first, followed by a body. A second person
materialized. Three, four, eight—now there were a dozen. And the
number grew steadily as more and more people appeared.

They ignored the tarpaulin that he had left
in a heap. They also ignored the truck. Those who were fit assisted
the ones who were lame. It was a peaceful group—peaceful, but
expectant. They kept chanting the name of their Lord. They thought
this was it—that the Ascension was really taking place. And Tony
had helped to fool them into believing it.

A few of the faithful had managed to hang
onto their candles, even while climbing the steep hill. He might be
able to recognize Nathan with the help of their light. But as more
and more people appeared, the ones already there blocked his view
of those just arriving. This was frustrating. It occurred to Tony
that he might be able to mingle with them and find Nathan that way.
He was no longer Jesus and they hadn’t been able to see him very
well when he was. And they were all wearing regular clothes, as he
was. No angelic robes.

Tony carefully eased himself out of his
hiding place and joined the group. Would they spot him as an
outsider? He didn’t have a candle and he avoided the light of the
candles held by others. But they were looking upward, to heaven,
not at him.

He carefully mingled with the parishioners,
looking for Nathan, looking for Tina, even looking for Shahla. By
the time the last of the flock arrived at the top of the ridge, he
was sure that none of these people was among them.

He feared for the safety of the girls,
especially Shahla. Should he have let her go down by herself? What
choice did he have? Did his ruse work with Nathan? If so, where was
Nathan? No acceptable answer came to Tony. He had to go down to the
plateau.

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