Chapter 17

Two weeks later...

Tim sighed listlessly as he sat in a booth in a truck stop near Amarillo. Because he didn't know where exactly Tony would have gone after being dropped off, he'd had to make the rounds of all the truck stops, hoping that he could make the assumption that Tony would be there and not somewhere else. He'd been in this particular truck stop for a few hours and he was trying to get up the energy to move on to the next one. He'd been at this all day. Most of the truck stops were open 24 hours and so he'd spent very little time in his hotel room in Amarillo the last couple of days...without letting anyone back in DC realize it.

But he could admit to himself that he was having trouble keeping up with this kind of schedule. He might have to give in and spend the night in his hotel room just so that he could get the rest he knew he needed.

In fact, he could feel a headache starting and that was always a bad sign. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

Suddenly, he was startled by someone plopping down into his booth, sitting across from him. For one wild second, he thought it might be Tony and he opened his eyes quickly.

It was not Tony.

For one thing, it was a woman, an older woman, probably in her seventies. She had a bit of a weathered look, but she also looked like a tough cookie, not someone to cross. She was looking at him with a quizzical smile.

"So, what brings you here?" she asked.

"I don't want to seem rude," Tim said, "but what brings you right here?"

Her smile widened. "I own this place. I've been on vacation the last week or so, visiting my grandkids. Just got back today and my manager told me that you've been hanging around here for the last few days, talking to all the truckers, but you don't look like a trucker groupie... if such people even exist, and this doesn't seem like the place for someone like you to be except when you're passing through."

"I did make a point of buying stuff so I'm not just sitting here."

The woman chuckled. "I wasn't asking because I was worried about losing money. You just don't look like you belong here. So what's the story, hon?"

Tim smiled a little and then sighed.

"I've been looking for a friend of mine. Someone I work with. He disappeared almost eight months ago without a trace. I started looking for him and I've managed to track him this far, but... I don't know where to go from here, and I can't understand what's happened."

"Who is he?"

"His name is Tony, but he was probably going by the name of Joel. This is him," Tim said, pulling the photo out of his pocket and sliding it across the table to her. "He was probably looking more scruffy than he is in this picture, according to the driver I talked to before. I think he was hitchhiking."

The woman picked up the picture and looked at it.

"Technically, it's illegal for truck drivers to give rides to hitchhikers. There's always a problem of liability, either if there's an accident or if the hitchhiker isn't what he seems to be. Lots of the drivers won't give rides anymore, but some will if they're asked. They just won't do anything that will let the company know they've done it. They'll drop them off outside of any town they're headed to, sometimes, not even at a real stop, but if you're bumming a ride, you can't really be too choosy."

"I've been going to all the truck stops around here. Spending time at each one. But I don't know if I'll be able to get any further."

The headache began to assert itself and Tim tried not to let it show.

"Actually, there was a man wanting a ride a few months ago. Couldn't tell you if it was your friend or not. I don't remember what he looked like. He wasn't here for very long. He walked in, asked for a ride and got one. But he apparently needed to pee first so he ran into the bathroom and ran back out like thirty seconds later." She chuckled. "That's why I remember it. He was determined not to be left behind. All the guys in the place were laughing a little. Part of it was that he looked too old to be acting like he was. Still, I couldn't tell you if this was him."

She slid the photo back across the table. Tim took it with a sigh.

"Okay. Thanks."

He took a breath and started to slide out of the booth.

"Wait. There might be something I could do to help you out."

"What?"

"I remember the driver who picked him up. His name's Dave. He's been driving this route almost as long as I've run this store. That's been twenty years. He always stops here when he comes through."

"Do you know when he'll be coming through again?"

"No, I'm sorry, but I don't. Haven't seen in him in a while. He could be coming soon or not. ...but I do have a CB radio. Why don't you come with me and we'll see if he's in range?"

"Okay."

Tim stood up and felt the dizziness he had known was coming. He leaned against the booth for a moment and waited for it to pass.

"You all right?"

Tim nodded slowly and then opened his eyes which had involuntarily closed.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Just tired."

"I don't know too many people who go white as a sheet when they get tired. You sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just stood up too fast."

The woman looked singularly unconvinced, but she just nodded and led him to a back office.

"Have a seat. Looks like you need it."

"Thanks."

Tim sat down and watched as the woman (who hadn't introduced herself) pulled out an old CB radio.

"Break. This is Cadillac Mama. You 10-6, Little Britches?"

She waited for a moment and grinned at Tim's expression.

Then, there was a sound on the radio.

"Cadillac Mama. Been a long time. 10-18?"

"Got a man here needing to talk to Davey Jones."

"Haven't seen him lately."

"Got a 10-44 for him. Can you deliver?"

"Sure can try. Go ahead."

"Got a man here looking for a friend. Davey Jones would have picked him up close to eight months ago near me, given him a ride west."

"He would have said his name was Joel and he was a singer," Tim added quickly.

"Singer by the name of Joel," she said. "You 10-4?"

"10-4. I'll let you know."

"Thanks for the break."

"10-7."

She put the radio away and then looked at Tim who raised an eyebrow.

"Cadillac Mama?" he asked.

"Otherwise known as Jill, but that's no good as a CB handle," Jill said, grinning. "Now, mister, Dave'll get a hold of me as soon as he gets the message. If you give me your number, I'll give you a call when he does. Until then, you'll have to wait."

"Unless this isn't the right guy," Tim said. "And then I'm losing time searching by just waiting."

"Here now, sonny, don't go making me feel like I have to be all maternal. I'm a tough old broad."

Tim smiled a little. "Who just got back from a vacation to see her grandkids."

"Ha. Good one. You're pretty quick for a guy who looks like he hasn't had enough sleep in a decade."

"A few months ago, sleeping was all I was doing," Tim said. "How long do you think it'll take to get an answer?"

"I wouldn't think it'd be more than a day. It all depends on where Dave is. These radios are mostly for local conversation, not much more than 150 miles. So it might take a bit if he's further away than that, but I promise that I'll give you a call. So give me your number."

Tim leaned over and wrote out his name and number and then slid it over.

"All right, Tim. Go back to wherever you're staying and take a rest. I'll call when I hear from Dave."

Tim nodded and took a deep breath before he stood. He didn't want to have a repeat of his dizziness and he didn't want Jill expressing any more concern for him. But he really was tired.

He walked out of the office and out of the restaurant. His headache reasserted itself and he had to give in and go back to the hotel. He drove there and went into his room and then let himself fall onto the bed. He lay there for a while in silence.

But he didn't really like the silence.

He pulled out his phone and suddenly decided to listen to some Billy Joel. He didn't really know a lot of his songs. He knew a few. Probably nearly everyone did, but he didn't know a lot of them. Tony did. That was why he felt he could pull off pretending to be an aspiring singer. He could say that it was all about the love of Billy Joel. Even down to his own name.

So he started the music going and heard a few of the more popular songs as he lay there. He should call Gibbs and report in, but he didn't want to right now. He never did, but right now, he just wanted to be in this little dingy cocoon of the hotel room and do nothing at all.

A song started up that he didn't recognize at all. The piano introduction was really nice, almost soothing with a bit of melancholy to it.

"They say that these are not the best of times,
But they're the only times I've ever known,
And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own."

He lay there, letting the song wash over him. It wasn't really about his situation since he wasn't worrying about a relationship, but there was a feeling to the song that fit him. When the song ended, he repeated it. Again and again. And he tracked in different lyrics each time through.

"Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity,
Our reason co-exists with our insanity.
And though we choose between reality and madness...
It's either sadness or euphoria."

He wondered if Tony knew this Billy Joel song. The thought made him smile a little and then he sighed. After the umpteenth time of listening to it, Tim turned off the music and then lay there, staring at the ceiling. What had happened? Why had it happened? What now? What next? What in the future? The questions piled up. Somehow, he had thought that, if he did find clues to where Tony was, it would make things more clear, but every step he took on this road only made them more confusing. He just didn't know what was going on or why things were this way.

But he had no choice but to follow them where they led... and hope there was some clarity to be found. Somewhere.

Eventually, he decided he couldn't deal with talking to Gibbs tonight. So he sent a text message instead that just said he was fine and he was tired and going to bed. There was an eventual response of Gibbs' usual eloquence, comprising the single letter K.

Tim kicked off his shoes, didn't bother to change his clothes and just curled up on the bed and went to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"I think we need to take what we've got and start working on what it might have to tell us," Tim said. "I'm starting to get through the encryption on some of these files, and there's something to what Reyes was telling us."

"Something, but what is that something?" Tony asked.

"That's what the analysis will tell us. I've been working on a program that will help pull out the important names."

"I thought you'd already decided they weren't real."

"I had, but even so, we'll get a sense of the leadership and maybe, by getting some sense of how they're running things, we might get some clues as to who is in charge. The more I see of this, the more I agree with you. This is big."

"I don't know if I like it when you agree with me."

Tim smiled a little but his heart wasn't in it.

"I don't know if I do, either. This might be too big for just the two of us."

There was a strange sound intruding on his sleep. He couldn't identify it. It just kept going and going and going.

His eyes opened and he looked around groggily.

Then, the sound started again.

"My phone," he mumbled and reached out for it.

He fumbled a bit, only barely half awake.

"Hello?" he mumbled.

"Hello! This is Cadillac Mama."

"Huh?"

The laughter woke him up a little more.

"Who is this?"

"It's Jill from the truck stop. You're in luck. Dave is heading this way and should be here tonight. He said he'll have time to talk to you when he gets here. So be prepared."

"Oh. Thanks, Jill. Uh... sorry. You woke me up."

"Good. Glad you got some sleep. Try and get some more. Sounds like you need it. Catch you later."

The call ended before Tim was really awake.

Suddenly, he realized what Jill had said.

"Wait," he said lamely.

It was possible that this person knew what the next step was going to be. How many more would there be before he made some sense out of this?

Tim had no idea, but he needed to wake himself up so he could be prepared to find out.

He had a feeling that he was getting closer.