Cathy Peper
Stowaway in Time
Copyright © 2019 by Cathy Peper
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmittedin any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise withoutwritten permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distributeit by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it arethe work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localitiesis entirely coincidental.
First edition
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Cathy Peper
One
Chapter 1
Present Day
St. Genevieve, Missouri
Diamond awoke with a start, her eyes gritty from lack of sleep. She shifted in the cramped space, her muscles stiff from disuse and the cold seeping into the car. The soft glow of early morning winter sun glowed through her windshield and illuminated the mess she’d made. Crumpled fast food bags filled with trash littered the passenger seat, and she knew without looking that empty cans of soda and energy drinks filled the back seat. Stakeouts were a bitch, especially without backup. The newspaper she worked for wouldn’t provide any help for this assignment, since officially she wasn’t on the story. According to her editor, there wasn’t a story.
Diamond could think of a few choice words for her editor. There was a story. This guy she was following, Bob Rivers, was as fishy as a freshly caught trout. She couldn’t find any background information on him; it seemed he had come from nowhere. The press had portrayed him as a hero for saving that poor girl in the park from getting raped by a pair of losers, but her reporter’s instincts screamed that he was up to something.
Still, she might have let it go had it not been for the time she followed him and his girlfriend, Anne, back to Reelfoot Lake Park. They had taken out a boat and come back wet and freezing. Later that night, Bob had gone out again to a remote part of the lake, almost as if he were dumping a body or something. Diamond knew he was hiding something, but fishy or not, she didn’t think Bob was a killer. If you push the right buttons, anyone was capable of violence. Absently she rubbed her right wrist even though it didn’t hurt anymore. Being unable to write or type the six weeks she was in a cast had almost destroyed her career.
She was about to go in search of a gas station restroom when she finally realized what had awakened her—the mechanical sound of Anne’s garage door raising up. They were on the move.
The blue Camry pulled out. Diamond only knew the make because she had researched it. She wasn’t into cars, but she and Anne shared a preference for practical, dependable vehicles. Anne’s was larger and nicer, probably because she had a kid. Diamond didn’t think she made a lot of money as a tour guide, but neither did Diamond as a reporter since the Internet had nearly wiped out print media.
She scrunched down in her seat, but didn’t think they would spot her. She’d placed a tracking device on the car, a trick her ex-boyfriend had taught her, so was in no hurry to follow. As the car drove by, she saw to her surprise that Bob was driving, and he was alone. Usually Anne did the driving. It was still early. Where was he going at this time of day? He had no job, had never had a job as far as she had determined.
She stared at the house for a few minutes, but saw no activity. Time to freshen up at the gas station and find out what Bob was up to.
Fifteen minutes later, armed with a hot coffee and an energy bar, Diamond headed south on I-55. Bob wasn’t too far ahead. He drove slower than the speed limit. Diamond set her speed control above the limit—not enough to risk being pulled over, but enough to allow her to gain ground on him. She suspected Bob was heading back to Reelfoot Lake, but what that park had to do with anything, she couldn’t imagine. It was in the middle of nowhere. Maybe he was making meth or growing pot or something else to do with drugs. Missouri still held the dubious honor of being one of the largest methamphetamine producers in the country.
Should I call the police? Diamond shook her head. What was she going to tell them? “Hey, this guy I’ve been following left his girlfriend’s place early this morning and is heading out to a state park.”
The police officer would say, “So what? He’s going fishing.”
“Well, sure he could be going fishing, but since it’s winter, I don’t think so. I know he’s up to something—maybe making drugs.” That would go over well. She’d be lucky she didn’t end up behind bars for stalking.
She reached for her coffee and took a sip. It had finally cooled down enough that it didn’t burn her mouth. She opened the energy bar with her teeth. She was on her own, but caffeine and food would sustain her.
