“I’d like to drive out to where Burt was headed before checking in,” Mia said.
“I’m all for it. Murphy?” Ted asked the ghost beside him.
Murphy pulled out an ear bud and waited for Ted to tell him what they were doing. He nodded in agreement before putting the bud back in his ear. Briefly they were serenaded by Patsy Cline as Murphy adjusted his solidity to house the sound.
“Turn right at Mason Street, head north until the first paved road, and then head west,” Ted instructed.
Mia looked at the snow covered landscape and wondered how she was going to tell a paved road from an unpaved one but held her tongue. Rule number one of traveling was that no one argued with the navigator. Rule number two was that the driver could choose to ignore the navigator if it was going to bring harm to the occupants and vehicle. She and Ted made up these rules as needed. It helped to amuse them on long truck trips. Murphy didn’t need such amusements as long as the charge held on his Walkman and he could listen to the angelic voice of Patsy.
They would lose light in another few hours. The sky was overcast, adding to the sense of immediacy.
Mia turned left and headed west.
“By the GPS, the intersection of the line and road is coming up in a half mile.”
Mia slowed the truck and patted the seat next to her, getting Murphy’s attention. “Keep your eyes peeled for Burt’s car,” she instructed.
The terrain was flat. The wind whipped up the snow and sent it moving in southeastern waves.
“It looks so cold out there.” Mia shivered.
“It looks like they plowed this stretch after the initial snowfall,” Ted observed.
Mia nodded as she drove through the drifts that edged their way onto the pavement. They passed a large pile of snow on the right verge. Mia stopped the truck and pulled over. “That might be Burt’s car under that snow.”
Ted hopped out of the truck and ran back to the mound and began digging. It wasn’t long before the green of Burt’s Ford greeted him. He worked his way to the driver’s side door and found the latch. He was amazed to find the door unlocked. He pulled on the door and looked inside. Empty. No Burt. He trotted back.
“It’s Burt’s car but no Burt. Let’s check out the field on either side. Mia, you better button up, the wind’s freezing my nards already.”
“I suggest you cover them, Teddy Bear. We do intend on having children one day,” Mia teased.
Murphy looked at Mia in disgust.
“Come on, what’s with the prudish behavior?” she complained as she pulled on her snow shoveling gloves and zipped up her LL Bean parka. Mia reached back behind her seat, pulled out two snow shoes and stepped into them, tightening the straps before heading into the field.
Murphy moved over the snow, Mia on top of it, and Ted through it. They did a quick grid around the car and were rewarded by finding Burt’s computer bag. Ted looked through it and found the laptop cold but sound. There wasn’t anything in it to tell them where the owner of the bag was. “I hope he’s got his investigating backpack with him,” Ted said.
“Murphy, look under the snow. We want to make sure Burt’s not lying under it somewhere,” Mia requested.
He nodded and disappeared.
Mia and Ted worked their way back to the truck to warm up. It wasn’t long before Murphy returned. “No Burt.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or not?” Mia said.
“Look,” Murphy pointed a few yards from where they had been standing. The evening air shimmered.
“He sees the ley line,” Mia explained. “I can’t tell if it is the segment or not. If Burt parked the car here then the inn must have been close by, so I’m going to assume that is the segment.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“If Burt happened upon the active line and for some reason was pulled into it, he would have been taken to Cape Hatteras before being tossed out. At least he would have been in a lot better climate than this, I assure you. If he is stuck on this side, he’s dealing with the climate of the ley line. Since it’s porous, the temperature would be close to the surrounding ambient temperature which right now is a little over freezing. Fortunately, he doesn’t have this wind to contend with.”
“So you’re telling me that even if he is in the building, he is still facing the weather,” Ted said, scratching his head.
“Ted, there is no B&B. At least I don’t think there is. A FM is nothing more than an illusion. It’s a ghost ship in the Caribbean, an oasis in the desert. If it has form, then it’s something else.”
“Mia, what I’m asking is, could Burt have survived last night?”
“Maybe if he kept his clothes on and kept moving,” she answered. “Eventually, he will need water and food, otherwise the cold will kill him.”
Ted’s phone rang. He looked at it a moment as if he didn’t recognize the number. He picked it up and answered. “Ted Martin.”
“Ted, it’s Audrey. I got some great news. I’ve found an old timer that wouldn’t mind talking about the 1973 disaster at Summerfield.”
“Good.”
“Your voice sounds funny,” Audrey said.
“Audrey, we found Burt’s car and computer bag, but no Burt.”
“Oh. Ted, no body means there still is a chance. Turn the truck around and head east and take a left at Mason Street, head north. You’ll see the van parked on the right hand side in front of a bar called Tear Drop Tavern. “Hurry. Old John’s on his second whisky…”
“We’re on our way.”
Mia started up the truck and proceeded to do an eight-point turn. “What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Did Audrey get a new phone?”
“Not to my knowledge, why?” Mia said as she finished her turn and headed back towards Mason Street.
“I could have sworn the caller ID said, “Last Chance.”
“Whoa, maybe she’s using someone else’s phone. They’re able to program whatever they want to these days instead of the identifying exchange number. I picked up a call just the other day. The caller ID read Chicago, Illinois, but it was Mumbai, India I was connected to.”
“What did they want?”
“They wanted to sell me a technical support contract for one of our PCs. I told them I had all the technical support I could handle, thank you very much,” Mia said, winking at Ted.
Mia made the turn north and was pleased to find the tavern on the first try. Mia hopped out and invited Murphy to join them, but she made him promise that if there was a jukebox, he would leave it alone. He wrinkled his nose and agreed.
They entered the warm dark bar and looked into the gloom, waiting for their eyes to adjust. Cid was almost in front of them before they saw him.
“I waved at you. You looked right at me.”
“We can’t see anything. It’s dark in here, dude,” Ted complained.
“Ambiance. Get your rear in gear; Old John is going to tell us all about the 1973 disaster. We’ve ordered cheese fries,” he added as he led the way to the table.
Mia moved awkwardly through the tables. The bar was infested with three male spirits, two of which seemed very interested in the newly arrived blonde. Murphy stepped in front of her. He nodded towards the bar, and the trio of ghosts followed him. Mia sighed. Murphy may be a pain sometimes, but he was her protector, first and foremost.
Mike got up when she approached. Audrey sat beside an octogenarian dressed in flannel and denim. He started to smile but stopped. He dug into the pocket of his flannel shirt and came up with a pair of dentures. He popped them in his mouth and then gave her a dazzling smile.
Mia returned his smile, uncomfortably showing her full set of teeth in the process.
Ted wondered if this was a cultural thing, this wide-tooth-baring smile. He nodded his greeting, keeping his long incisors to himself.