CHAPTER TWO

 

 

July 14th, 2016

Oregon Coast

 

THE WILD PACIFIC Ocean pounded on black rocks to Jesse Parks’ left as the coast highway wound around a sharp ridge in a mountain and went into a massive tunnel through tall pine trees that made the bright sunny day seem suddenly dim. He loved the beauty and extreme ruggedness of the Oregon Coast. Not as much as he loved his home in the remote Valley County in Idaho, just miles from the small tourist town of McCall. But the coast was a close second in his heart.

Jesse Parks glanced at the tablet-sized tracker sitting on the passenger seat of his Jeep SUV and made note that Kelli Rae had stopped about ten minutes ahead. More than likely to get something to eat in the small town of Whale Port.

He had been following her for two days now as she made her way slowly up the Oregon Coast. She clearly hadn’t been in a hurry to get anywhere and so far today had only covered about a hundred miles in just about six hours. She seemed to stop for anything that looked interesting.

For a week before that he had learned more about her than he wanted to admit. But to learn about a target was his job, what Duster Kendal had hired him to do for some reason.

He hadn’t let her see him in all the time he had been following her and researching her, but now seemed like as good a time as any to get a little closer. In another day or so he was going to report back to Duster his findings and get home to Valley County.

There was nothing at all unusual about Kelli Rae that he could find. She worked too hard, did more research than anyone ever needed to do, and seemed to enjoy her life from moment to moment. She had two doctorate degrees in various aspects of historical research and a number of masters’ degrees along the same lines, including one in library science.

She was as Duster had hoped she might be. A really, really good historian. Why Duster was interested was beyond Jesse, but he made it a practice to not ask clients why there were interested in researching someone. Just better that way.

He was really starting to miss his big log home and all the openness of the land and mountains around it. Even though the Oregon Coast was beautiful and rugged, he was going to need to get back to the real mountains.

Kelli Rae was a bestselling writer of true historical crime books, with the multiple degrees in history and criminology to back her up. Her books and research all focused on crimes that had occurred in the past in the western part of the United States. A strange thing to focus on and write about, but it had made her millions, and from what Jesse could tell, her research was unimpeachable. At least that’s what all the critics said. Considering how much time she spent at it, there was no wonder.

He had no idea what she was researching on this trip. He hadn’t gotten into her notes to find that out. He had snooping limits.

She was twenty-eight, lived alone in Las Vegas and had no family. She didn’t drink or gamble that he could tell, and she also had more money than Jesse bet she even realized, considering how little she paid attention to her own finances.

Finances he had snooped into. And sadly, as most people, she had made his job very easy on that regard. But from what he could tell, no one was taking any money from her. She seemed to have an honest accountant.

She was twenty-eight and had no love interest of any type past a few brief one-night-stands. Considering how much her research and writing seemed to eat up all her time, that didn’t surprise Jesse in the slightest. The woman was flat driven.

Not at all like Jesse, who had the attitude of his favorite character, Travis McGee written by a writer by the name of John D. McDonald. Jesse worked when he wanted to or when something interested him or when a favorite client asked for a favor. Duster and his wife, Bonnie, were his friends, and paid him far, far too much when he had worked for them before.

This time they had asked him to help on looking into Kelli Rae’s past. He had said yes without even asking why. For Bonnie and Duster, he would do damn near anything.

In fact, about five years before, Duster had suggested that Jesse get a long oil-cloth duster like Duster wore no matter the heat or the cold. Jesse was doubtful at first, but after a few times wearing the long and very light coat, Jesse couldn’t imagine being without it.

He had gone out and bought four light brown dusters and wore a light brown cowboy hat as well. Duster wore darker coats and hats. But since Jesse was almost as tall as Duster at six-one, they looked like a formidable pair when together. Like two sheriffs right out of the Old West.

Early on, right out of college, Jesse had built a reputation of being the best private investigator in the west. He had helped keep a very rich man out of jail on a crime he didn’t commit, and on another he had found an online stalker’s real home address for a rich client to get that stopped.

Those two things, along with hiring a great computer crew for his office in McCall to do basic background searches on new hires for about a hundred different companies and organizations from around the west, had made his name.

And his fortune.

And every so often he worked for Duster researching other historians and mathematicians. He had no idea why. He just did what Duster asked.

The small town of Whale Port, Oregon, appeared as he came around a sharp corner in the highway. The town consisted of maybe fifty buildings, at most, on a ledge between high tree-lined mountains above it and sharp rocks and pounding surf below it. The town existed at all because just on the other side of town was a small bay and river coming into the ocean. Jesse knew it was deep enough for some fishing boat docks.

Most of the fishing was gone now, but the town hung on with a two story white historical hotel, a few bed and breakfast buildings, a general store, some antique stores, a small grocery store, and two restaurants. All looked like they could use a good coat of paint, but considering the weather here, more than likely they had all been painted just last summer.

Kelli Rae’s blue BMW sat in front of one of the restaurants that looked like an old diner and was clearly well kept up.

At least she had good choices in places to eat. So far, in all his research, Jesse had found very few things he didn’t like about the woman, including her looks. If he didn’t have such a solid rule about getting involved with a target, he would have been interested.

He pulled in and parked between her car and a State Police car. Time to get a little closer to his target before heading home to Idaho. And besides, he was hungry.

He slipped on his cowboy hat and then slipped into his duster as he climbed out. Might as well not try to hide at all. She would remember him from this point forward.

And he liked the idea of that for some reason.