Neither did he believe the situations they are put through make them evil.
Every human being is given a choice whether to be good or bad.
Grant Rivers made his, and more than ninety people paid the price.
Aidan rubbed his tired eyes. He started realizing how little sleep he had earned since the hunt began ten years ago.
And it had only been a week since Cheyenne was kidnapped.
A lot had happened.
His cell phone vibrated, and he looked at the caller ID.
It read unavailable.
He glanced at Cheyenne, who slept, and her sister, who sat next to the bed, reading a magazine.
The phone continued to ring as he told Laura he was going to step outside. After he entered the hallway, Aidan pressed accept call.
“O’Reilly.”
“How is she?”
Kent didn’t bother disguising his voice this time. They knew who he was, so why should he even bother?
“She’s doing great, no thanks to you.”
“Ah, that’s wonderful,” Kent said, masking joy. “I’m so glad she’s back with you, Aidan...you don’t mind if I start calling you by your first name, do you? I mean, after all, we’ve been through a lot these last ten years, haven’t we? Anyway, I have to admit, it didn’t turn out exactly as I'd hoped, but it has been dreadfully fun working with you. But you don’t have to worry about me any longer.”
“Why? You going to do us a favor and kill yourself?”
Kent released a low snicker.
“Not quite, friend. Not quite.”
Aidan heard a whistle in the background, but couldn’t make out what it was, or where it was coming from.
“Well, Aidan, I believe this is where we part ways,” Kent said. “I’ll have to catch you one of these days and see how you’re doing. Enjoy your lovely Cheyenne.”
He ended the call as Aidan spotted Shaun walking toward him.
“How’s Cheyenne?” he asked.
Looking at him, his mind reeling, his question barely registered.
81
THE STEAM ENGINE blew smoke into the clear blue sky and the whistle echoed into the distance.
Kent leaned against the wall of the empty boxcar, ready to leave Georgia for his next adventure. He knew he couldn’t accept the job in South Dakota like he’d planned, so he decided to try something new. Maybe he would spend a year, possibly two, in Hawaii.
He unzipped his backpack and pulled out his passports. He had four different names to choose from. Kent decided it’d be interesting to build a brand new career as Caleb Jenkins. He figured Caleb could be a great writer. He could see it now: a writer of mysteries. He could even draw from his own experiences. After all, write what you know, right?
Kent chuckled at the thought.
It was a very good idea.
So he put his new identity in his shirt pocket and slipped the others back in the bag. Next, Kent took out a photo album. It was his original of all of his women. He was disappointed he lost two of them. And he wished he could have retrieved a few of his tapes so he didn’t have to rely on his memories.
But it would have been a major risk going back.
He needed to get to the train when it departed, so he could get over the state line. Kent had disguised himself with a mustache and goatee. If one of the engineers happened to discover him, he wouldn’t be immediately recognized.
From the rags he stole, he'd look like a homeless man trying to find a place to sleep.
So far, most everything had gone according to plan.
He’d managed to get under O’Reilly’s skin. He could tell by the strain in his voice. And that day when they came face to face, the look of fear in his eyes was priceless.
Even Kent had to admit he was lucky to escape. Thankfully there were enough trees around to conceal himself as he ducked behind the other houses.
Kent looked at his watch. It was seven thirty. The train should have started moving by now.
He frowned.
It seemed quiet outside the walls. The whistle didn’t even sound anymore.
After waiting another five minutes, Kent decided he should take a peek outside to see if he could tell what the holdup was.
He pushed to his feet and slid the door open.
“Can we see your ticket please?”
Agent O’Reilly stood before him, with what looked like an entire army. They had their weapons drawn, pointed directly at him.
Well.
That’s interesting.
Kent smiled at O’Reilly. “You’re smarter than I give you credit for. How did you know where to find me?”
“Next time you call, I suggest you end the call before your transportation toots its horn,” O’Reilly said.
He heard the sense of satisfaction lacing his words.
“Thanks for the tip,” Kent retorted.
“Grant Rivers, step off the train,” O’Reilly ordered.
Kent did as he was told and stood in front of the agent who had spent ten years of his life tailing after him.
“Well, guess all good rides must eventually come to an end,” Kent told him with a smirk.
“Turn around.”
When he obliged, O’Reilly began to cuff him as another agent read him his rights.
“I figured you’d want to kill me, Agent O’Reilly,” Kent said, “If you ever got this close to me again.”
“I thought about it,” O’Reilly admitted. “But then I decided my idea of fun is watching you rot in prison. So, that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
Kent snickered.
“Want me to bring the popcorn?”
O’Reilly pushed him toward another agent and he was led away from the train yard.
82
“SO, WHAT WAS it like when you caught him?” Laura’s tone was evident of excitement. “Did you have to fight him?”
Shaun laughed, and Aidan rolled
