Unknown Caller excerpt

Jack was doing something he loved doing, but seldom had the opportunity to do anymore. He was driving by himself, slapping down the highway miles on a solo road trip. Partially solo, anyway. He was driving from Virginia to Florida. He was going to pick up Amy in Jacksonville, then they were driving together the rest of the way to Key West.

His father had talked him into buying a Sarge green Jeep Gladiator Rubicon, and so far, he was loving it. It had made his dad a little crazy that he couldn’t leave it stock, but the old man had also been willing to hang out with him as Jack and his son, installed the lift and a few other accessories. He’d even told him that the Jeep looked good when he was done.

Thinking about his dad made him a little wistful. As Jack had been sweating and cussing under his Jeep, working with his son, Ed had chosen to flop out in a camp chair and spectate. In no way was Jack upset that Ed was watching instead of wrenching. The man deserved to sit back and relax. He had turned eighty-one a few months before. And while Ed was physically a hale and hearty eighty-one, that was still a lot of candles on his cake to be sliding around on a cold concrete floor.

For his whole life, Ed Dixon had been a rock. He’d been Special Forces, and among the most elite of the elite. He’d survived being dumped out of planes and being shot, and too many things for Jack to count… and those were just the things he knew about. So much of his father’s life had been a classified mystery.

But the reality was that his dad was slowing down. His mind wasn’t as sharp as it used to be, and his father had become something he’d never thought to associate with his old man. Fragile.

On the other hand, he knew how lucky he was. Jack had lunch with his dad almost every week. Just the two of them. Where wasn’t important… it could be sitting at a picnic table with a couple of burgers from Smitty’s or sitting at the marina watching the boats come and go as they enjoyed fresh lobster or sitting on his deck overlooking the Chesapeake Bay while they ate homemade sandwiches. What they talked about wasn’t really important, either. Sometimes it was business, other times it was about Jack and Amy’s son, Colt. His favorite conversations, though, involved him listening to his dad’s stories. For the most part he’d heard them a hundred times, but every once in a while, a new detail would worm its way through. But he just loved to watch his dad get excited about the old days.

He had just spent two days with his parents at the house down on Carova Beach. It was cold outside, but the two men sat and watched the ocean, talking about life. Jack listened to Ed’s stories again, and Ed listened to Jack’s, enthralled at the man his son had become. He was supposed to leave at noon to head down to Florida but being with his father was too valuable to him. Instead, he sat with his father and talked about Colt. Ed was happy that his grandson had turned a page in his life. The rough patch had taken a lot out of both him and his wife, Amy, but the youngest Dixon’s life had taken on new focus.

“He’s a good boy, Jack. Always was. He just needed to find his place. Hopefully, he doesn’t forget who he is at his core.”

“I know, Dad. And I know it isn’t easy for him,” Jack said, rising from the couch. He knew he had to leave. The tide would be coming in soon, and while he could still make it up the beach, he still had a long drive after that.

Jack knew that what was important was that they both took the time to be together. As much as he hated to face the thought, those days might be limited. Could be a year, or it could be twenty, Jack thought, but I want to take advantage of every one of them. His father’s forgetfulness was more serious. He had been diagnosed with early-stage dementia. Jack wondered how long his father would remember those stories.

Back in the moment, he was still half an hour from the night’s destination, Wilmington, when his cell rang, popping him out of his train of thought. He glanced at the radio display, but it just showed the number of the caller. That was highly unusual. Even if they weren’t in his address book, his caller ID usually had a name.

The phone rang again.

He could count the number of people that had his cell number. Probably on two hands. Even his lawyers didn’t know the number to his cell. Wife, sister, kid, parents, wife’s parents, a few others. He looked at the number on the screen.

The phone rang for a third time.

He didn’t recognize the area code. He couldn’t place it… he knew it… but he couldn’t think of where the number originated. Of course, now, people had numbers from all over. Area codes meant little.

His hand hovered over the two buttons as the phone rang for the fourth time.

Accept. Reject.

He didn’t like talking to people he didn’t know. And he hated getting spam calls. He didn’t need to renew his car’s warranty… he’d probably voided it anyway… and he knew that the calls telling him he needed to update ‘whatever’ information were scams.

His gut said to answer the phone.

“Hello. This is Jack,” he said, unconsciously leaning forward. The microphone for the hands free was near the top of the windshield, on the left.

“Hi… Jon?” he heard the soft voice of a woman answer him through the Jeep’s stereo. She’d hesitated, like she hadn’t expected him to answer.

He didn’t even realize he’d lifted his foot off the throttle and steered to the shoulder until he felt the rumble of the “wake-up” strips along the side of the road. It had been forty years since he’d heard that voice, and she sounded different. But he knew exactly who it was. He’d been fifteen then, as had she. The timbre and pattern of her voice hadn’t changed, though.

“Jon, is that really you? Are you there?” she said.

“Nancy?”

“You remembered. That’s amazing,” she said. Jack could hear the smile behind her voice. Her image flashed into his mind. Medium length, jet black wavy hair. Her blue eyes were so bright that he thought they glowed. For a moment, he could taste their last kiss, the last time he saw her or talked to her. He could feel her tears on his chest, and her arms wrapped around him, clinging to him as she felt their last hug before she climbed into her parent’s car and disappeared from his life. “Jon, are you ok? Jon?”

“Yeah… I’m here. I’m fine. How about you, Nancy? Long time.” A flash of anger clouded his voice as it wavered slightly.

“It has been a long time. Sometimes, though, it feels like yesterday,” she said.

“Yeah,” Jack responded, his mind back in that day in Nineteen-eighty. November twenty-second. Her dad was being transferred to California.

“Thirty-nine years, two months and seventeen days,” she said. “But who’s counting, right?” He heard a sadness in her voice despite the outward laugh. It tugged at his heart, more than he expected. His anger rose and faded like the flash from a camera.

They had been together off and on… mostly on… for almost three years before she moved. And aside from the time leading up to her move, she had almost always been full of joy. Nancy was the girl that would laugh and dance around even when she was caught in a cloudburst. She would look up at the sky, watching the rain zoom past her and drink it in with a smile.

“What happened?” Jack asked, layers of meaning behind the question.

“I... I wanted to write. I tried to call. I just couldn’t,” she said, her voice halting and unsure. Jack could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks even through the phone as she talked. He could hear anguish in her voice. “Every time I tried…” she trailed off. “When I was eighteen, I flew back to Virginia. I was looking around for you, but I found out you and Amy Prince had just gotten married. I knew you always loved her. I was happy for you. Really.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

“What prompted you to call me now?” Jack asked, his guard unconsciously sliding up around him. He fielded constant calls for help, favors, money. Some days it felt like everybody wanted something from him.

“I honestly didn’t know it was you. I found this number in… I need to see you, Jon. I can get up to Virginia, but I need to talk to you in person,” she said. He could hear desperation in her plea but had no idea why.

“What did you need to talk with me about?”

“I can’t go into it on the phone. I just need to see you.”

“Where are you now?” Jack asked, desperate for a subject change. Part of him desperately wanted to see her, to look into her eyes. The other part of him was scared to death of Nancy Jordan, the idea of sitting down with her filling him with equal parts excitement and dread.

“I’m in Savannah. In Georgia. I’ve been here about twenty years.”

“There is a little restaurant on River Street, across from the Market Place,” Jack said.

“You mean Lizzy’s?”

“That’s the one. Meet me there tomorrow at seven,” Jack said. “We can have dinner and talk.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“North Carolina,” Jack said. “I need to go, Nancy, but I’ll see you there, ok?”

“I can’t wait,” she said, her voice back to the velvety smooth tone he remembered. “Bye.”

The stereo changed back over from the call to music. Atomic Punk by Van Halen blasted through the speakers as he pulled back onto US17. He was just outside Wilmington, only a few minutes from his hotel.

He tapped the screen a few times and waited for the phone to ring.

“Hi gorgeous,” he said when Amy picked up.

“I was just thinking about you. How’s the drive?” she said, her smile shining through the phone.

“Good. It’s nice to have the time just sitting here with my thoughts.”

“I missed you. I can’t wait to see you Wednesday. I’m looking forward to the drive down to Key West.”

“Me, too, Amy. I just wanted to hear your voice. I love you,” he told his wife as he glanced at the bracelet she’d given him after his Eagle Scout Court of Honor. He hadn’t taken it off since.

“I love you, too. And you’re so sweet, calling just to hear me.”

“Your voice centers me, Amy. When I hear you, I know that everything will be ok.”

“What’s wrong, Jonathan?”

“Nothing… I mean, being with my dad was tough today. He’s slowing down… I just wanted to hear your voice. Good luck with the launch tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I love you.” The call ended and the radio started again, sooner than he would have liked, but he knew that she had a big project getting ready to go out, which was part of the reason he was driving alone.

If you've read many of my works, Jack and Amy Dixon might be familiar. They are the same Jack and Amy from the Planning Vengeance excerpt, but this is 40 years later. In my novels, they have plenty of adventures.

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