Fred backed the truck and horse trailer in and motioned at the door. Nikki understood. She grabbed the rope that had one end fashioned into a hangman’s noose and pulled the door down. Once the door was down, she slid the bolts closed on both sides of the door. Fred killed the engine and got out. Nikki followed. The two of them unloaded the horses and guided them into the pen. Nikki gestured at the pen.
“Did you build it out of pallet wood?” she asked.
“Yep. There was a whole stack sitting in the corner when we first found this place. We made use of them,” Fred said.
After getting them settled, Fred pointed out a walled off section at one end of the building.
“That was the employee’s break room on one side and an office on the other side. Over there are the restrooms. The ladies room still has a toilet, which can be used if you have a pot of water to pour into it, which we don’t. We took the toilet out of the men’s room. There’s a hole in the floor that you can hover over, which you also need water to wash it down. There are a couple of mattresses in the office and we’ve rigged up a barrel to work as a wood burning stove. We have a couple of five-gallon water containers, but no food stores. Before you ask, no running water or electricity.”
He paused for a moment. “We have some firewood over in the corner, but like I said, we can’t make a fire yet. We’re going to need to check out the immediate area first.”
“Alright, let’s get the horses saddled,” Nikki suggested.
“No, not yet. First, we’re going to walk around the immediate area and see if we’re alone or not.”
He’d not even finished the sentence when a cacophony erupted on the roof. Nikki was startled at first, but then realized it was rain, although it seemed extraordinarily loud.
“Ice rain,” Fred said. “That’ll make things a little more interesting.”
Chapter 27 – The Pivotal Moment
Johnny G stared at the trailer in silence. The narrative in a murder mystery novel would declare this a pivotal moment in the plot. When Riley had pulled out that bottle of vodka, he intuitively knew it was the Fitzgeralds who had murdered the president and her people. Roscoe and the O’Malley brothers suspected it, but they had no proof, merely a small piece of circumstantial evidence. The O’Malleys needed physical evidence to prove their case.
Like a bottle of vodka with a distinctive tear on the label. Or, even better, the president’s trailer filled with her personal property.
And there it was, sitting in the warehouse Riley had brought him to. If he exposed them, if he turned them in, no doubt they’d claim to have merely found it during their scavenging travels but coupled with the fact that they were on the road at the same time Rochelle was murdered would have assured a guilty verdict.
Johnny G had a dilemma on his hands. A defining decision to make. The bottle of vodka he could have rationalized; he was a lonely man who had a moment of weakness when an attractive hot woman made a pass at him.
Now he was staring at the trailer. He could play along like he was her ally, and as soon as he returned to Marcus Hook, he’d expose them. The proof of their guilt was right before his eyes. All he would have to do is send a message to Mount Weather. He imagined VanAllen would send out the O’Malleys to handle it. They’d put up a fight, no doubt about it, but they’d be exposed. If they weren’t killed outright, they’d be tried and executed.
It was the only decision that was logical, rational. Johnny G stared at the trailer a long minute before facing Riley, who was peering at him with those hazel green eyes. Suddenly, he chuckled.
“What?” Riley asked.
“Those eyes of yours glow after you’ve had sex. I’ll know immediately if you ever cheat on me.”
Riley eyed him curiously. “Do we have that kind of relationship?”
Johnny G scoffed. “I’m under no illusions, Riley. We have a thing. We’re friends with benefits. You aren’t interested in taking it any further.”
“Is that what you want?” she asked. “Do you want to take it further?”
He stared into her eyes. She stared back, a question behind them. It was time to decide. He pointed at the trailer.
“That all has to disappear,” he said. “But first, let’s get some heat going in this place.”
The place only had a single woodburning stove in the living area. It was a barrel that had been converted. The main warehouse area was unheated. They worked through the cold and pulled everything out of the trailer.
“Throw all the clothes back in,” he directed. “Someone might recognize them.”
“Alright, what else?” she asked.
“Their guns. Do you still have them?”
She walked into the back of the building and came back a moment later with two handguns and two assault rifles. He hated to do it, but he knew the serial numbers were on record back at Hook. After all, he was the one who came up with the idea of a detailed inventory. He unloaded them, pocketed the bullets, and tossed the weapons into the trailer with the clothing. He went through the other items. Anything that might possibly be identified was thrown into the trailer.
When that was accomplished, the two of them hooked it up to their SUV and towed it to the Delaware Memorial Bridge, which was only a stone’s throw
