Fiction
The Death Of Henry James Part 5
A Sunny Alexander-Johnson and Roberto De La Cruz Series By P.G. & Sharon Barnett
My name is Sunny Alexander-Johnson. And I’m Roberto De La Cruz, and we’re writers for Dark Sides of the Truth magazine.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
As if being followed by a person of interest we believe had been hired to kill one of us wasn’t bad enough, now we had a surprise visit from the ghost of Roy Chambers to deal with.
When our phones buzzed, we both started as if we’d just been nudged with an electric cattle probe.
“What the hell now?”
“Robert says to go back to Dark Sides, park in the garage, and wait.”
“Wait for what, Roberto?”
“Just wait. My guess is he and Manny want to see what the dude’s going to do next.”
“This is starting to get on my last nerve.”
“What about Roy?”
“What about him?”
“He still, uh, with us?”
After a brief inspection in the rearview mirror, it was confirmed that yes, the ghost of Roy Chambers was still very much an ethereal passenger.
“Yeah. Roy. Why are you here?”
“You are supposed to find me.”
“Roy, we’re kinda busy here at the moment.”
“You are going in the wrong direction.”
Several anxious seconds passed as we rerouted and headed to the highway which would take us to our exit and the offices of Dark Sides.
“What’s he saying?”
“He’s not; give me a minute, okay?”
“Sure.”
“Okay, text Robert back and tell him we’ve got a change of plans. Tell him we’re going home so I can pack, and then we’re heading over to your place so you can do the same. You still live with your mother and sisters?”
“Yes, but where are we going?”
“Wherever Roy takes us.”
Robert and Manny were indeed not happy to receive the text Roberto sent them. How did we know this? Less than fifteen seconds after Robert sent the text message, one of our phones began ringing. Using the Bluetooth connection in the car, we answered it.
“Dammit Sunny, we told you to go back to Dark Sides. How in the heck do you expect us to nail this dude when you’re changing the plans all of a sudden?”
“Good morning to you too, Manny. Put my husband on the phone, please.”
“Go ahead, baby. You’re on speaker.”
“Okay, here’s the deal hon. We’ve got us a dead guy sitting in the backseat of my car, telling us we need to find him and…”
“Whoa, wait a minute, what the hell are you talking about?”
“You know that thing me and Henry seemed able to always do?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“I’m doing it.”
“Oh my God, Sunny now? Do you and Roberto have to do this now? We’ve got a serious situation on our hands, baby. The dude following you is just looking for an opportunity to take you out.”
“Then you and Manny are just going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
We listened to several seconds of connection static and then heard some unintelligible conversation going on between the two men.
“Alright, baby, we’ll do it your way, but you have to let us control this situation as much as possible, okay?”
“No problem, sweety. We’ll do us, you and Manny do you. I’m headed to the house. I’ll even park in the garage and close the door before getting out of the car. How’s that?”
“Fine. Just be ready if we tell you otherwise, okay?”
“Got it.”
Planning a road trip when you have no idea where your final destination is isn’t so tough. It’s almost impossible.
A conversation with our deceased trip buddy produced very little to go on, his cryptic responses to our questions often more confusing than his silence. One thing we knew for sure. Roy Chambers had gone hiking on the day of his disappearance.
Although Loretta provided us little information, something told us maybe the journal would, at the very least, provide us a starting point. After leaving Roberto’s house, we sat in the car, scanning the pages of Loretta’s journal entries.
“Sunny, look here. Loretta wrote, “we’ve talked about the big three of our bucket list so many times. Guadalupe Peak, Saint Elena Canyon, and The Lighthouse. It may take us a while, but eventually, Roy and I are going to do all three.”
“Let’s look them up and see where they are.”
“Okay, give me a minute. Oh wow, Sunny, from here to Guadalupe Peak is about eight hours.”
“Where?”
“Just east of El Paso. The Lighthouse is a place in Palo Duro Canyon, which is about eight hours north in the panhandle, just south of Amarillo.”
“What was the other one?”
“Saint Elena Canyon?”
“If you say so.”
“Another eight hour trip almost into Mexico at Big Bend.”
“This is not going to be as easy as I thought. Where’s our dead guy when we need him?”
“So, what now?”
“I suppose we pick one and head out. It’s a good thing I dragged out my hiking boots. I have a feeling I’m going to need them.”
“Okay, how about we try Saint Elena Canyon first?”
“As good a choice as any Roberto. I’ll make the call and tell our handlers what we’re up to.”
“I have a feeling, Sunny, they’re not going to be very happy about this.”
“And that’s stopping us how? Give me the directions so I can key it into GPS and then buckle up, as Henry would have said. It’s time for a road trip.”
“Yeah, just without the Slim Jims, Twinkies, and Ho-Hos.”
“God, he ate the most disgusting stuff, didn’t he?”
“Well, I kinda liked the Twinkies.”
“Don’t get any ideas, De La Cruz. This is my car, my rules. Especially when it comes to eating in the car.”
We’d just made it to Highway 290 heading west, passing a tiny burg known as Dripping springs when Roy Chambers decided to grace us with his presence. By now, we’d gotten used to the dead man’s tendency to pop in and then disappear almost the next instant as if struggling to keep his focus.
Just what we needed. A ghost with ADD.
“Where are you going?”
“Saint Elena Canyon.”
“Yes, Sunny, I know I picked it, remember?”
“Not you doofus, Roy’s back.”
“Why?”
“Look, Roy, you said we needed to find you, and that’s what we’re trying to do.”
“You’re going the wrong direction. Find me so I can come home.”
After pulling over to the shoulder of the highway and stopping, we exchanged exasperated glances.
“Let me guess we picked the wrong place. What did Roy say?”
“That’s the problem, Roberto. He didn’t. He just said we’re going the wrong direction and disappeared again. I wonder if that damned ghost even knows where he is half the time.”
The display panel on the dashboard lit up announcing an incoming call. Both of us recognized the number.
“Hey, baby.”
“Why are you guys stopping?”
“Change of plans. According to Roy, we’re heading in the wrong direction.”
“Your ghost friend?”
“Let’s just call him an acquaintance, for now, Robert.”
“So where now?”
“We have two more places to try. We’re going to pick another one. If we’re wrong, we’re guessing Roy will let us know.”
“This process of elimination is getting us nowhere, Sunny.”
“You have a better idea, Robert?”
“You know I don’t.”
“Right. Roberto, what’s the next place?”
“Guadalupe Peak, maybe?”
“Guadalupe Peak it is. Robert? Our dude still following us?”
“Yes.”
“Hope he likes road trips as much as we do.”
Read On — The Death Of Henry James Part 6
Let’s keep in touch: P.G. & Sharon Barnett ([email protected]) © P.G. Barnett, 2020. All Rights Reserved.