Entrance to Nowhere Read online

  “And me?”

  “Maybe. Let me talk to Pete first.”

  “How long has Mr. Trapper been missing?”

  “Two days. I know that doesn’t sound like much time, but it is. You know, Trapper is an odd duck, but there’s something about him that I like. He’s honest, even if he does keep to himself.”

  “There hasn’t been a ransom demand?” I asked.

  “Nothing. His accountant keeps trying to reach him, and I keep putting him off. Okay, his accountant knows who Draper and I are, but that’s it. Oh, and his secretary knows about us, although she thinks we’re groundskeepers, but no one else knows. No one else has a clue. If there’d been a demand, I would have heard about it from the accountant. There’s no one else to contact if he’d been kidnapped.”

  “Where’s Draper now?”

  “He’s back at the mansion, waiting to hear from me.”

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “One other thing, but you’ll have to wait until we go back to your office before I can show you.”

  I lowered my head and thought about everything he’d told me so far. It was a lot to take in, especially since there’d been no demands made.

  We’d finished lunch and I fished my wallet out of my purse, setting it on the table.

  Griz placed a staying hand on my wallet. “This one’s on me, little lady.”

  “Thanks!”

  We took our time walking back to the office, strolling really. I noticed a motorhome parked in our lot.

  “Yours?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  I unlocked the door. “I’ll try the auto part store Pete frequents. Maybe he’s still there. He tends to walk up and down the aisles.”

  “I’ll be back in a minute.” Griz walked outside and headed for the parking lot beside the office.

  I found the number for Al’s Auto Parts and dialed.

  “Al’s Auto Parts.”

  “Hi. This is Sandi Goldberg. Is my husband there? Or have you seen him this morning?”

  “Goldberg? Oh, yeah. Pete. He was here, but he left about forty-five minutes ago.”

  “Did he happen to mention where he was headed? A friend of his is here, waiting to see him. It’s kind of important.”

  “Let me think. Oh, yeah. He said something about going to the store to pick up dog food. I remember because he was laughing about your mangy mutt. His words, not mine. I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

  I smiled to myself. “It’s okay. Pete and Bubba can be competitive for my attention, but they get along pretty well.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  Before I could call the pet store, Griz was back, bearing a surprise.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “This is a Chiweenie.”

  I had to stifle a chuckle. “A Chiwhat?”

  “Clementine. The old man’s Chiweenie.”

  “What’s a Chiweenie? I’ve never heard of that before.”

  “Clem is half Chihuahua and half Dachshund. You can see that she’s small, about ten pounds. She’s the only thing Trapper cares about. He surprised me when he picked her out. She’s a rescue dog.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she was being used at a puppy mill. Those idiots figured they’d gotten all the puppies from her that they could, so they were going to put her down. A group rescued her and Trapper heard about it. He took her in.

  “She needed to be socialized and he left that up to me since he keeps to himself. She didn’t know a thing about being a dog, if you can believe that. She didn’t understand toys or playing, and she was fine around pups, but she couldn’t relate to adult dogs. She thinks she’s the alpha dog. She’s come a long way.”

  I held out my hand. “Can I hold her?”

  “Sure, but look out – she’s a licker.”

  He was right. As soon as I took her from him she turned those big brown eyes on me and she started licking my hands, my arms, my chin and anything else she could reach. She was light brown with a white face, and had larger ears that flopped over. Kind of like a Chihuahua and yet slightly resembling a Dachshund.

  “What a sweetie,” I said.

  “I found her shut in the laundry room, whining and scratching on the door, frantic to get out. Trapper wouldn’t have closed her in like that. I guarantee you, someone else put her in there when they took Trapper.”

  Chapter Three

  “Tell me a little about Mr. Trapper.” I wanted some idea of what we might be dealing with because from all I’d read, he was not only a recluse, but somewhat eccentric.

  “Let’s see. He doesn’t like to be called Andrew. He prefers to be called Trap. Go figure. He’s about five foot ten with dark brown hair and a mustache, and he’s thin – very thin. Half the time he gets so involved in things that he forgets to eat. For some reason that mustache is important to him. He always keeps it perfectly trimmed.”

  Griz ran his fingers over his own mustache which was in need of a trim.

  “He’s a genius, you know. He made most of his money in computer programming, and he owns a cybersecurity company, among others. If he sits down at a computer, you know you’ve lost him for the rest of the day. He’s a bit eccentric, but most people who know about him know that, too.”

  “I’ve read stories about him,” I said.

  “Don’t believe everything you read. He’s a very private man. This is just a guess, but I think he was kind of a nerd when he was a kid. Well, he’s still a nerd, but… Anyway, I think he might have been bullied or teased a lot.”

  “That’s sad. I’m sorry to hear that. It might explain some of his reclusiveness, though.” I studied his face for a brief moment. “Come to think of it, you’re kind of a recluse yourself.”

  “I am, and I like that you speak your mind. That’s a good quality in a woman.”

  I grinned at him. “You’d probably love my Aunt Martha, not to mention my mother. I guess it runs in the family.”

  “You and Pete should think about prepping, too.”

  I didn’t reply, but picked up the phone to continue my search for Pete.

  “Doggie Heaven,” a voice answered.

  “Hi,” I said. “This is Sandi Goldberg. I’m trying to locate my husband and he was going to pick up some dog food. He’s about six feet tall with brown eyes and dark brown hair that’s greying at the temples, and he’s got a small scar by the side of his mouth. Have you seen anyone fitting that desc – “

  “Sandi, this is Thelma, and yes, Pete was in here a while ago.”

  “Oh, hi, Thelma. I didn’t recognize your voice. When did he leave?”

  “Oh, I’d say about half an hour ago. How’s Bubba doing?”

  “About as usual.”

  Bubba is my big bear of a dog – half wolf and half Golden Retriever – and he’s just a good ol’ boy in the world of dogs.

  I glanced at Griz out of the corner of my eye, remembering my thoughts that he looked like a grizzly bear.

  “Did Pete say where he was going?”

  “He mentioned taking the food home before stopping somewhere for lunch.”

  “He sure is elusive this morning.”

  Thelma laughed and we hung up.

  I turned to Griz. “We might be able to catch Pete at home. Why don’t you follow me over there? If he’s not there, I’ll make a few more calls.”

  The big man nodded. “Would you mind if Clem stays at your house if we have to leave again? I don’t want to drag her all over town.”

  “That’s fine, as long as she gets along with Bubba.”

  While I locked the office, I explained about Bubba. Griz didn’t look too sure about the whole thing.

  He put Clementine in his motorhome and followed me home.

  I hoped the two dogs would get along. Griz had made it sound like Clem might think she’s an alpha dog, the pack leader. Bubba wouldn’t care what she thought she was.

  We pulled up in front of my house and the neighbo
r’s door opened. Bubba strolled out like he owned the neighborhood. My neighbor, an older woman named Dolly, often kept the big brute at her house while I was working. We had an arrangement, although her cat, Miss Kitty, wasn’t too happy about it.

  Dolly stepped out on the porch, but when she saw I wasn’t alone she waved and went back inside.

  “Let me take Bubba in the house and then you can follow us with Clementine. Take her leash off before you set her down.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. I want her to feel free to move around. Bubba can take care of himself.”

  “He won’t attack her, will he?”

  His concern surprised me. “Bubba’s just a good ol’ boy. I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  Before we could move away from the car, Clem began barking with a ferocity I didn’t often hear.

  Bubba glanced toward the car before heading for our porch. The little dog’s barking didn’t seem to bother him at all.

  “Now Bubba,” I said, “I need you to do your very best to get along with the little squirt. You two might have to spend some time together.” Sure, like he understood what I was saying.

  I unlocked the door and opened it, following the big guy inside. I could hear Clem barking at the top of her lungs, and I stepped back out on the porch.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t bring her in,” Griz said.

  “Let her have her way. Let’s see what happens. I’ll need these two dogs to get along. Maybe she’ll wear herself out.” I realized I was yelling in order to be heard and closed my mouth.

  Bubba stood next to Pete’s favorite recliner and calmly watched Clem when she ran inside.

  She took a few steps toward him and nearly bounced because she was barking so hard. The fur on her back stood on end.

  He continued to watch her, and after a moment he sat down.

  If she was a person, her face would be red and the veins in her neck would be bulging. Her eyes would be bulging, too. Well, considering her breed, they were doing that a little bit anyway.

  I marveled at Bubba’s calm. He tipped his head to the side and continued to watch her.

  Apparently his indifference encouraged Clem. She moved closer and continued to bark at him. All of a sudden she stopped barking and slowly approached him. She sniffed his paw, which was about all she could reach.

  Woof. Bubba didn’t move after what might have been a greeting.

  Clem yelped all the way across the room and tried to hide behind Griz.

  Bubba lumbered to his feet, because that’s how huge, bear-sized dogs stand up, and slowly approached Griz.

  He looked up at him and grinned. He has a very toothy grin, and most people think he’s baring his teeth at them.

  Griz laughed. “He’s smiling at me, isn’t he?”

  I relaxed. “People think he’s going to attack them. I’m glad you understand him.”

  He stood quietly in front of Griz and Clem, almost looking like he was biding his time.

  Clem slowly walked from behind the man and, shaking, sniffed Bubba again.

  He nudged her with his nose and sat down.

  The small animal gave one high-pitched bark and turned her back on him.

  “Let’s put them outside while we talk. They can get to know each other,” I said.

  “It looks like Clem’s met her match.”

  I walked through the kitchen and opened the back door, with Bubba following. Griz had to carry Clem because she didn’t understand what was going on. We put them outside, but I left the door open. I didn’t know if Clem was prone to run away or not, so I was glad I had a fenced yard.

  “Pete’s been here,” I said. “There’s a fifty pound bag of dog food sitting on the back porch. Let me see if he left me a note.”

  There was, indeed, a note sitting on the table.

  Went to In-N-Out for a burger, it said. Back later. I’ve got a few more errands. I’m going to stop by Stan’s place. He had an accident this morning and they can’t go on their trip. Later. Pete

  Well, that figured. Poor Stanley is one of the most accident prone people I know. His wife, as adorable as she is, runs a close second in the accident department.

  I heard Clem bark once from outside. It didn’t sound like her alpha bark. “I think she’s made a friend,” I said. “Maybe that’s something Bubba needs.”

  Griz nodded and gave me a long, appraising look. I wasn’t sure what it meant.

  We walked to the living room and he looked around the house. “I like this place. It’s not a cookie cutter house. It has character.”

  “Thanks. My great-great-great grandparents built it. I love it. Why don’t we drive over to In-N-Out? Maybe Pete’s still there. I’m sure Dolly will watch both dogs while we’re gone.”

  “Are you sure? She doesn’t know Clem, and she can be a handful.”

  “Dolly loves animals, and thankfully, they love her. She spoils them. It won’t be an issue, trust me.”

  I returned to the kitchen just in time to see Clementine walking into the house. She kept stopping and looking behind her, and I soon realized she was making sure that Bubba was following her.

  He sat down next to my foot and she sat next to him. After a moment, Clementine discovered Bubba’s water dish and strolled over to fill up. She was a thirsty dog.

  “I think Clem has a crush on Bubba,” I said. “They’ll do fine while we’re gone.”

  I opened the front door and Bubba headed out, knowing we’d be going next door. Bubba bounded toward Dolly’s house with Clementine’s little legs churning, trying to keep up with him. It wasn’t working.

  She barked at him, almost as though she was saying, “Hey! Wait for me.”

  You can imagine my surprise when Bubba stopped and turned to her. He appeared to be waiting.

  Griz held her leash in his hand, looking surprised. “I always have to put her leash on when I take her out. I’m, well, flabbergasted that she’s only interested in going where your dog goes.”

  “They make an unusual pair, don’t they? Let’s go. I’ll drive. Let me just go update Dolly before we leave.”

  “Yeah, I don’t want to waste any more time. Trap’s in big trouble. I can feel it in my gut.”

  Chapter Four

  By the time I walked over to Dolly’s house, she was holding Clem and the dog was licking her maniacally.

  “What a sweetheart,” she said, wiping dog slobber off of her arm. “Who does she belong to?”

  “A friend of a friend,” I said. “Can she and Bubba stay with you for the afternoon?”

  “Of course. What’s her name?”

  “Clementine. If you see Pete, would you tell him I’ve been looking all over town for him? Tell him a friend of his has a problem and needs our help.”

  “I’ll do that.” She turned and carried Clem inside, with Bubba trailing behind. Miss Kitty made her escape out the door before Dolly could close it.

  I met Griz by my car. “Why don’t you park your motorhome in the driveway, out of the way?”

  He nodded and headed for the motorhome. He ended up having to back up quite a ways and drive forward so he could make a very wide turn into the driveway.

  Watching him made me think I wouldn’t be good at driving a motorhome. They were way too cumbersome.

  The closest In-N-Out was a bit of a drive. We didn’t talk much while we traveled.

  I tried to make conversation. “In-N-Out burgers are comfort food to me. Those and chocolate.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “I could live on chocolate if I had to.”

  He nodded.

  “Let me ask you something. As a prepper, what do you consider the most important things to stock up on?”

  “Water is the first thing you need. Lots of it. Food, of course. You can find foods that have a twenty-five year shelf life. You can read up on how to store flour, sugar, beans and other things that most people take for granted.”

  “Chocolate has a long shelf life,” I said, hoping for
a grin.

  It wasn’t forthcoming. “Medical supplies. You’ll need flashlights and lots of batteries, a heat source, maybe a propane grill, and a hand-cranked radio wouldn’t hurt. People forget about some of the necessities, like toilet paper – lots of toilet paper.”

  I could see him turn to me in my peripheral vision.

  “In your case, I’d stock up big time on dog food. You should look for a good book on prepping. And it wouldn’t hurt to put in a supply of chocolate.” I could hear the grin in his tone.

  “Are you that sure something will happen?” I asked.

  “A lot of people think prepping is a waste of time; that nothing will happen. I happen to believe anything could happen, from Armageddon to a natural disaster, but that’s just me. Be prepared.”

  He sounded ominous and I had no idea if he knew what he was talking about or not. It was something to think about, and yet it was also something I didn’t want to take into consideration.

  I needed to change the subject to what was going on in the present. “Did you find anything at Mr. Trapper’s house that might indicate what happened to him?”

  “Not much. Nothing had been disturbed, but one of his computers was gone. He lays out his wardrobe on his bed in the morning. The clothes were still there. He has a thing about wearing a smoking jacket, although he doesn’t smoke. He seems to think it makes him look, uh, dapper. Dapper is his word, not mine. He’s kind of old-fashioned for a man in his mid-forties. I tease him about it sometimes. He seems pretty good-natured about it.”

  “What makes you think he didn’t just take an unexpected trip?”

  “Trap doesn’t just up and take trips. He plans everything out to the last detail. Besides, all of his cars are in the garage. If he needs to go somewhere he has either me or Draper drive him. He won’t let anyone else touch his precious cars.”

  “How many cars does he have?”

  “Three that are used on a regular basis. The other eleven are collector’s cars. The only time I’ve ever seen him dirty his hands was when he worked on one of his cars.”

  I nodded. “So his two passions are computers and cars.”

  “And clothes. He’s always immaculate.”