The Invisible Cipher: A Neil Gatlin Thriller

By Ida Smith

In a world where secrets hide in codes, a terrible fate rests in the quiet echoes of the night. After an impromptu assault sends him on the run, Neil Gatlin finds himself stranded in a small Illinois farm town where he learns to trust no one and fear all. With no friends and little money in his pockets, Neil is desperate to return to Indiana and his pregnant girlfriend, Sunshine. Worried for her safety, Neil’s journey home hits a roadblock when he is framed for murder. With little possibility of rescue and everyone in town believing him guilty, he’s reliant on one unlikely ally. As clues start to reveal the truth behind his unimaginable fate, he overhears schemes threatening to pull him into greater trouble. The only one with the skills to uncover a deadly plan by hardened criminals, Neil must take matters into his own hands and secretly decipher the messages. But as Neil comes closer to the truth he must choose between doing the right thing and risking all he loves. Will Neil unlock the truth and return to Sunshine? Or will he be pulled into the evil plans of others, a creature of the dark, without Sunshine forever? One thing is for sure, Neil will never be the same.

“Numerous twists made The Invisible Cipher an even more interesting and suspenseful story. The situation that Neil found himself in could happen to anyone, giving the story a realistic feel.”
—Michelle Stanley for Readers’ Favorite

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ida Smith
• Release date: Apr 18, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370336234

Ida Smith

IDA SMITH enjoys disappearing into a good story, whether she’s reading or writing it. Ida believes life rarely happens the way we plan, so she writes of fictional characters traveling Jagged Journeys. Ida’s stories capture our imagination—leaving us wondering: “What if that were me?” Ida lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family where she enjoys scrapbooking, gardening, and the outdoors.

Book preview

THE INVISIBLE CIPHER

Ida Smith

A Neil Gatlin Thriller

Book 1

THE INVISIBLE CIPHER

A Neil Gatlin Thriller (Book 1)

By Ida Smith

To learn more about Jagged Journeys’ Stories visit:

http://idasmithbooks.com

Second Edition: Copyright © 2015, 2017 by Ida Smith

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form except for use in book reviews or promotion.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

FICTION / THRILLER / CRIME

Special Thanks to my wonderful husband, Rick Smith, for all your support, encouragement, and help. I couldn’t do this without you.

Sign up for the author’s New Jagged Journeys’ Releases mailing list and get a free copy of the suspense-filled novella, Deciphering Invisibility, the sequel to The Invisible Cipher: A Neil Gatlin Thriller.

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Table of Contents

Chapter One—Wrong Turn

Chapter Two—Miscalculations

Chapter Three—Stranger in Town

Chapter Four—Filtered Perceptions

Chapter Five—Road Signs

Chapter Six—Too Much Chatter

Chapter Seven—Deciphered Dilemmas

Chapter Eight—Interpreting the Right Path

Chapter Nine—Discovered

Chapter Ten—No Room for Error

Chapter Eleven—Retaliation

Chapter Twelve—Deciphering Trust

Chapter Thirteen—A New Code

About the Author

Other Books by Ida Smith

Chapter One

Wrong Turn

Neil Gatlin traveled the back roads, hoping to avoid state police and other law enforcement. He’d managed to slip out of Missouri undetected and was now inching his way through Illinois, he just had to make it to Indiana before Sunshine had her baby.

By the level on the gas gauge Neil knew skirting around Cleavemont wasn’t an option and he didn’t dare try siphoning gas during the day. If only ol’ Gorgons hadn’t caught him slipping a few twenties from the till. Hadn’t he worked for it? He’d tried to explain to Gorgons that he needed the money now, he couldn’t wait around ‘til pay day. But Gorgons wouldn’t hear of it and threatened to make Neil pay with the sweat of his brow—sure that Neil had stolen money and tools on other occasions.

What could Neil do but run? The smell of gasoline interrupted his justification. The gas gauge on his 1950’s International pickup showed a fifth left.

The smell nauseated him. Before he could open the passenger window, the engine sputtered to a stop. He coasted to the roadside and tried the engine again. It started but stopped a few moments later and wouldn’t restart.

A look under the hood revealed gas under the diaphragm. His fuel pump was shot.

He slammed the hood shut. Why did this have to happen now? He stared across the miles of fields. He’d push his truck into the field and hide it if the corn was higher. A short walk into town, catch the bus and he’d be gone. The police wouldn’t be looking for him on a bus.

He kicked the truck. Abandoning it here would be foolish. They’d find it and start asking around. A stranger in a small town would stand out in a bus station with few if any customers. As soon as they found his truck he was as good as caught.

He could hitchhike, though the idea of some nosey stranger’s questions already raised a sweat. How could he come up with a believable story under pressure? He’d never been any good at lying. Give him time, sure he could devise a story, but not under pressure.

Neil marveled at his choice of routes. The good and bad was that no one would find him. He thought of the forty-seven dollars he had. Money he’d saved for Sunshine and the baby he now needed to fix his truck so he could get home and announce that once again, he’d failed. At least she had the fifty he’d sent a few weeks ago.

He might as well hoof it to a nearby house. He grabbed his knapsack from the cab, slammed the door, and set out to the farm he’d seen several miles back. Maybe they can help, he mumbled unbelieving.

He looked at the western sky. Why did it seem he was always headed backwards?

Half a mile from the truck a farmer in a flatbed slowed and offered to tow Neil’s truck to town.

You’re not from around here, are you?

No. What all do you—

You planning on staying around? The man looked Neil up and down, apparently evaluating him.

No, just passing through. You grow—

You’re kind off the beaten track, aren’t you?

Neil clenched his teeth. How was he going to get this guy to stop asking questions? I don’t care too much for the main roads, these back roads are—

Awful slow, finished the man, giving Neil a sideways glance. You young people usually like things fast.

There was an awkward silence as Neil tried to come up with a believable lie. They passed a farm and Neil thought about his grandparents.

Is there something specific you’re looking for?

Neil looked out the window. The less the man saw of his face the less he could describe him to the police. No. Just…just feeling kind of sentimental.

The stocky man huffed and muttered something under his breath.

Sentimental? Why had he said that?

What could you possibly be feeling sentimental about that would bring you way out here, boy?

Fields, farms, dirt roads, Neil’s mind was blank. Fields, farms, dirt…a memory of riding with his grandfather on the tractor slipped into his mind. My grandparents—

They live out here?

No, sir. But they owned a farm and I have good memories of riding on the tractor with my grandfather and eating grandma’s apple pie. They’ve been gone for a while now, but I thought driving down these back roads would bring back some of those happy times.

The man glanced over at Neil with a look of suspicion.

Neil took advantage of the quiet. You grow corn?

Yep.

How many bushels do you normally get per acre?

The farmer relented from his questioning and turned to bragging on his soil, crops, and equipment. They entered town and the farmer stopped at a service station in Cleavemont and helped unhitch the truck.

As they worked, a balding, middle-aged man skirted around the farmer’s truck.

Collins, is it necessary for you to block the whole drive?

Why don’t you mind your own business, Walter?

I am, and you’re in my way.

Well, you’re just going to have to wait.

We’ll see about that. I’ll have Clem get your piece of junk and the one you’re towing out of my way.

Neil watched as the farmer’s face reddened. One of these days, Walter… He removed the chain from Neil’s truck and tossed it on his bed.

The other man wandered into the service station and the farmer turned and looked Neil up and down, still judging him.

Thank you for your help, Neil quickly shook the man’s hand in hopes he’d leave.

Clem will get your truck up and running in no time. Good luck," the man said.

Thanks. Neil waved to the man. Luck, he muttered to himself. Bad luck, he’d always had. Good, that’d be a nice change.

Neil wandered into the service station and glanced around at the dirty floor and three old school bus seats for customers to sit on.

I’ll be right with you.

He nodded at the attendant.

You really want me to believe it’s going to cost me fifty-seven dollars for that little bit of tinkering you did? asked the cranky man he’d just encountered.

Mr. Parsons, that ‘little bit of tinkering’ took me two days and three parts.

Humph, I suppose, I can’t get my vehicle back unless I pay you. He pulled out a wallet and riffled through a stack of bills.

Neil tried not to stare at