JOURNEY (THE CHASER CHRONICLES Book 2) by Dalglish John C

Author:Dalglish, John C. [Dalglish, John C.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2014-07-05T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

I arrived on the outskirts of Kansas City around eleven and got off the interstate. Checking in to an EconoLodge, I collapsed on the bed and was out cold until the wake-up call came at six the next morning.

After showering and grabbing a quick bite from the free breakfast buffet, I headed off for Floral Hills Cemetery. It had only been a few days, and it was likely I could still catch Burt Cummins at his son’s grave.

I’d been on a stakeout, one of my first jobs as a Chaser, when I realized I didn’t know how a Runner got around, nor how fast. For all I knew, I was staking out a place the Runner had already visited days before, or might not get to for a week. I’d asked Buddy about mode of travel for a Runner.

“Just like the name says, they run.”

It seemed odd to me. “Why not take a bus, or stow away on a plane?”

“Eventually, Runners will do those things, if they’re around long enough. New Runners are confused and afraid. They’ve run to accomplish something, but want to stay clear of people.”

My experience thus far had told me a Runner usually covered fifty to seventy-five miles a day, if he made a straight line for somewhere. That would put Burt Cummins in Kansas City today or tomorrow.

Floral Hills Cemetery was about two miles from the zoo, on the south end of the city, and consisted of a large L-shaped piece of property. The main structure was a fourteen-hundred-seat chapel, which was used to hold large funerals.

The Floral Hills Funeral Home was on the east side of the cemetery, and served as a welcome center, as well. Going inside, I found a directory of every person buried at Floral Hills. I let my finger run down a page of Cs, flipping twice, until I came upon Cummins, William Burton.

A pen, attached to the desk by a chain, rested on a small pad. I wrote down the location.

“Can I help you?”

I turned to see a middle-age woman with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a forest green jacket with the Floral Hills emblem over her heart.

“Oh, hello.” I looked at her name badge. “Caroline, is it?”

“Yes, Caroline Higgs. Are you looking for someone’s stone?”

“Yes.” I looked at the note in my hand, then handed it to her. “I found the location. Can you point it out?”

“I’d be glad to. Let me see.”

She studied the note, then waved for me to follow her as she walked over to a large map on the opposite wall.

“The grave is located in this section here." She traced her finger along a road, back to the parking lot behind the funeral home. “Follow this road back to the west and you’ll come to it.”

She handed the note back to me. “Is there anything else?”

“No, thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

I turned and went to the Ranchero. Leaving the parking lot and following her direction, I quickly came to the section listed on the note.

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