CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Where is this cabin?” asked Ham.
“According to our data, it’s either that shack over there without the roof, the cabin there without windows, or,” said Carl, looking further up the mountain road, “that one. And that one would be my guess.”
“Tanner? Hiro? Who does this cabin belong to?” asked Ham.
“Property records indicate it belongs to a trust now but did belong to William Coleman.”
“Coleman? Who is William Coleman?” asked Aiden.
“ Sirs, William Coleman was the uncle of Archie Mansur Sr. He died about fifteen years ago, and the cabin was left to him. Mansur placed it in a trust through his law office,” said Victoria. “Also, sirs, it looks as though Archie got some text messages early this morning and they weren’t from us. They were from a private cell phone for a Chester Austin. He’s a guard at the county jail.”
“Shit,” muttered Carl. “Well, the good news is that the cabin is probably empty. Thanks, Victoria.”
“ You’re welcome, sirs. I’m trying to get a trace on the phone now. I’ll let you know if I find it.”
“Thanks, kid. Will you let Georgie and the team still in D.C. know to head to county and see if they can get their hands on our prison guard? He’s going to be surprised we found him, and so is Mansur Sr.”
“ We’re on it,” said Hiro.
In spite of their belief that Archie had left the cabin, they approached with caution, unsure if he’d rigged the doors or porch. Not seeing anything that would alarm them, they opened the door with ease to find that he’d left the heat on and a fire burning inside.
“I guess he doesn’t give a shit about preserving the family hideaway,” frowned Ham.
“Obviously not,” said Aiden, walking into the bedroom. “Empty safe in here, a few articles of clothing left behind. He obviously left in a hurry.”
“He left by snowmobile,” said Carl, standing on the front porch. “He wouldn’t get any further than that little town we passed through. Let’s head there and see if someone recently traded a machine in.”
Although they wanted to burn the cabin to the ground, they didn’t want to let anyone know that they were aware of Archie’s departure. A quick drive down the mountain road brought them to the little town. Easy via car, it would have been cold and rough on a snowmobile.
“There,” nodded Ham. “A used car lot.”
They pulled into the lot and stepped out into the freezing cold. Immediately, a salesman met them on the lot, smiling at them.
“Morning, folks. Cold one, isn’t it?”
“It is,” nodded Ham.
“What are you looking for? SUV, sedan, sports car?” he asked.
“Actually, we were wondering if you had a recent trade-in with a snowmobile,” said Ham.
“That’s strange,” he laughed. “Just this morning, a fella came in and traded that snowmobile in for a ’84 Oldsmobile. Not much to look at, but the engine had been rebuilt, new tires, good heat.”
“I see. Was this the man?” asked Aiden, holding up his phone. The salesman stared at it, turning his head back and forth.
“Well, he kind of looked like that. This fella had longer hair covered in a ski cap. He had it pulled down in a mask at first, but I had to have him pull it up to verify his photo ID.”
“Was the name on the ID Archibald Mansur Jr.?” asked Aiden.
“No. I know it wasn’t that. Let me think. Brian. Brian Delaware was the name. Hold on, I have a copy of the ID.” The salesman went inside, returning with a photocopy of the ID. “Here it is.”
“Thank you, that’s very helpful. Did he go back up the mountain?” asked Carl.
“No. Said he was doing a road trip. He stopped into the general store and the grocery,” he laughed. “We’re a small town and notice things around here.”
“So, you’ve seen him in town before?” asked Aiden.
“Seen him isn’t exactly right. Every time he’d come into town, he’d have his head and face covered, long sleeves, like he was hiding,” he shrugged. “We have a lot of folks running from the IRS or their exes. We don’t question it.”
“You’ve been very helpful,” nodded Carl. “Thanks.”
When they walked into the general store, the manager said he remembered Archie from several visits, but mostly because he wasn’t very friendly.
“Can I ask what he purchased today?” asked Carl.
“New winter boots, although I don’t know why. The ones he was wearing were just fine. Bought a few nice shirts and a few pairs of jeans. Just a week ago, he’d bought some heavy socks and flannel shirts. Paid cash for everything, but I did ask him to lift the ski mask.”
“And did he?” asked Aiden.
“Nope. Said he was cold and had an ugly scar. I didn’t push it. He wasn’t hurting anyone. Left the store and went across the street to the grocery. I watched him come out with a crate of liquor and bag of food,” he said, shaking his head. “Pretty much his standard.”
“You’ve seen him do that before?” asked Carl.
“All the time. It’s a small town. You get to know folks and know what they’re shopping for. He was easy. Food, alcohol, and the occasional clothing items. He wasn’t very friendly. Always seemed angry at someone or something. Stopped into the bar down the street a few times for burgers and beers.”
“Did he speak to anyone there? Maybe connect with a woman?”
“Never,” said the man, shaking his head. Aiden, Ham, and Carl raised their brows at the old man’s certainty. “Like I said. Small town. We know everyone’s business.”
“And did you know he was a wanted felon?” frowned Ham. The old man stared at him, letting out a long sigh.
“That, I did not know.”
“I don’t expect he’ll return here,” said Ham, “but if he does, don’t confront him. Call this number, and someone will come and get him.”
“Will do,” said the man. “Oh, if you wanted to know, he headed west. Was filling up the car with gas and mumbling something about picking up cash in Lexington.”
“That’s very helpful,” nodded Aiden.
When the three men got into the SUV, they called the girls to tell them they were headed to the airport and, from there, to chart a path to Lexington. Carl hit the number for his oldest brother on his phone.
“Luke? Get the team together and meet us in Lexington. We’re gonna need to follow his path, and that’s where he’s headed.”