Hide for Your Life

By D. R. Gregory

A New York senator was trying to extricate himself from his involvement with a top crime boss. The attempt resulted in his cold-blooded execution. Joanna Steinhauer inadvertently witnessed the execution and testified at the trial. To save her life she was placed into a witness protection program and given a new identity and thrust into a world that she never knew existed. As Alice Hershey, her challenge was to remain undetected in order to survive the far reaching network of the people determined to silence her.
A private investigator, Scott Wallace, who often went outside the boundaries of the law, discovered that he was able to determine Joanna’s new whereabouts. When he set out to warn her that her enemies might also be able to find her, he discovered that they were already on her trail, and they may be closer to her than he was.
As the story unfolds, and people’s lives become intertwined, you will wonder who is really good and who is really bad. One of the hunters becomes hunted himself. Someone is mistaken for someone else, and blunders are made that could prove to be fatal.
Will Joanna survive, especially when she is forced to face a life-long fear? And even if she does, how many other lives will she have endangered?

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. R. Gregory
• Release date: Aug 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463649824

D. R. Gregory

D. R. Gregory was born in St. Francis Kansas on May 29 1946. His parents were Richard Gregory and Alice (Crabtree) Gregory. He spent his childhood on a farm near Haigler Nebraska, just a few miles across the state line into Kansas. He attended a one-room country school two and a half miles from his home. He attended both high school and college in Nebraska. He met his wife while attending Union College in Lincoln Nebraska. He has three children and three grandchildren. He spent his career as a software developer, developing programs for multiple computer architectures. He is currently semi-retired, and living in a mountain community in northern California.

Book preview

Hide for Your Life

By D. R. Gregory

Published by D. R. Gregory at Smashwords

Copyright 2018 D. R. Gregory

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents

Cover

Book Title

Preview

Wednesday

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Thursday

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Friday

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Saturday

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Sunday

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

About the Author

Disclaimer

Wednesday

Chapter 1

She awoke with the sun directly in her face. It was coming in the window of the opposite side of the bus. Barely above the horizon, it came through the bus at an angle that carried the light completely across to her side. Add to that the contrast of brightness from the long night on the road, and the result was blinding. Turning her head to her own window, she tried to go back to sleep. When the memories of the events of the last few weeks began to flood her mind, she gave up and sat erect in her seat. The bus was now nearly empty. An elderly couple sat three rows ahead and on the left side. In the front row directly ahead of her was a man with a cowboy hat pulled low over his face. He appeared to be sleeping.

The tall man that she thought might have been following her was gone. He must have gotten off the bus during the night while she slept. She wondered if they were tailing her in shifts to keep her from being suspicious. That man with the hat may not really be sleeping. He was positioned where he could observe anyone getting on or off. Could the old couple be under cover and made up to look old? The driver could be a plant also.

She also knew that trouble would not necessarily come from men. There was someone involved named Elsie, but she knew nothing about her, except that she was a ruthless killer.

She shivered, even though the interior of the bus was warm. She knew they would be looking for her, and they had vast resources at their disposal. Their network extended into nearly every city in the U.S., in addition to most of the popular vacation resorts in the world.

Sleeping, she knew, had been a risk. She also knew that she must be alert if a confrontation ever did take place, so she had determined to get her sleep during the daytime when the other passengers were awake. They would not be as likely to try anything if a bus full of people were observing them.

She had slept the entire previous day. Her seat had been chosen on the right side of the bus in order to keep the sun away from her eyes. She had stayed awake the entire first night and slept the first full day on the road. But after the bus change in Omaha last night the ride was so uneventful that by three in the morning she was no longer able to hold her eyes open.

The bus changed direction enough so that the sun was not directly on her. She looked out the window at the passing landscape. What a desolate country, she thought. Can people really survive in this wilderness? It seemed strange to see so much open space after living her entire life in Brooklyn. She wondered if she would ever see New York again. Probably not. Too dangerous now at least. Too many people would recognize her even with different hair styling and coloring.

She could have flown, she thought. She could have made the entire trip in one day. But when she was given the option, she chose to take the bus. She had never been on an airplane. In fact, she had never been outside of New York City. Just the thought of being up so high in an airplane made her queasy. Heights were not her thing. She would not even climb a ladder if she could help it. Someday she should try to conquer her fear of heights, but now wasn’t the time.

A sound from behind startled her. The lavatory door opened, revealed the sound of the flushing commode, and closed again. So there was still someone else on the bus. Without looking around she knew that it was the tall man. She heard him come up the aisle and take his seat behind her and on the left side.

The she realized how full her bladder was. She stood up and pulled her overnight bag from the overhead rack and carried it to the lavatory. After relieving herself, she brushed her hair and teeth, and applied her makeup. She wished she could take a shower, but that would have to wait.

While still in the privacy of the lavatory she checked the inside pocket of the bag to make sure her supply of cash was still there. She counted it carefully. She hoped that she would not run short before she could get to the bank. Mr. Davis had opened an account for her but she did not know when she could get there. She thought that it was rather strange that there was not a single bank in the town where she was going. She could not even remember the name of the town. Mr. Davis had told her the bank was in the neighboring town about 23 miles east.

Returning to her seat she began, for the umpteenth time, to mentally calculate her cash requirements. Hotel room $100, she hoped. She wouldn’t have too much time to shop around for a hotel. Taxi to the hotel from the bus station, $50. Meals through tomorrow morning, $50. Taxi to the bank, probably $40. After that she could have more flexibility. If she underestimated anything very much she was in trouble, because she had exactly $265 in her possession. Why hadn’t she asked Mr. Davis what time she would get there? Would there be time yet today to get to the bank?

The bus slowed as it approached a small group of buildings. Not really a town, she thought. How could anyone possibly live so far from everything? Why would they want to? She heard the driver call the name of a passenger. So someone must be getting off. She wondered who. She hoped it was the tall man behind her. He gave her the creeps, and the sooner he got off the sooner she could stop feeling like she was being followed. However he made no move to exit as the bus pulled to a stop. How odd, she thought. The bus is stopping right here. There’s no bus station. Just a small gas station.

Haigler Nebraska. Alice Hershey! This is your stop. The driver was more insistent now. Suddenly, with a start, she realized that he was calling her. How stupid, she thought as she began collecting her carry-on belongings. I could blow my cover just as easily by forgetting that I am now Alice Hershey, as if I answered to Joanna Steinhauer. All that work Mr. Davis had done to establish a new identity would be blown if she made the tall man suspicious. That is, if he was really following her. Sometimes she felt foolish for being so paranoid. Probably her pursuers had no idea where she was. However, Mr. Davis had stressed the importance of leaving nothing to chance.

Chapter 2

No one else got off. The driver pulled her luggage from the storage area under the bus and set in on the ground in front of the gas station. Then the bus departed in a cloud of dust and black diesel smoke and she was alone. The remoteness of this little town made her feel even more so. How could she have ended up in such a tiny place, miles from anywhere? She hadn’t even known such places existed on the whole planet. This was the first time in her life that she had been out of Brooklyn, and she had supposed that the whole world was paved with cities and towns that merged into one another with no open space between.

Reaching into her purse, she pulled out Mike Davis’s business card with a phone number hand written on it. Nothing happened after she entered the number and pressed the call button. Staring at the phone, she realized that there were no bars, which indicated that there was no cell phone signal. She had never been anywhere that her phone would not work.

In vain she looked for a pay phone. Maybe it was inside the gas station. Putting her luggage where she could keep a close eye on it, she walked inside. A heavy man wearing bib overalls sat behind the counter. His chair was tilted back and his feet were on the counter. The TV was on full volume.

Do you have a phone? She shouted.

Ain’t workin’.

You or the phone?

Huh?

Never mind. Where can I get a taxi?

At this he almost tipped over backwards. Catching himself, he lowered the chair to all fours. A taxi? He exclaimed. Here? What for?

Because I need to find a hotel.

He burst out laughing. Where do you think you are, lady? This here ain’t Omaha or Denver. It’s jist Haigler. Ain’t mor’n half a mile from one end to th’other so there ain’t much need for a taxi. Used to have a little motel there across the street but it closed up after it went two years without more’n a dozen or so lodgers. I suggest you go on up to Wray, next town to the west, if you don’t count Laird. They got a couple of nice motels there.

Trying to remember to keep her eyes on her luggage, she asked, How can I get there? My bus is already gone.

You can usually find somebody goin’. Why’d you stop here at Haigler?

I’m supposed to start a job a Curtis Elevators.

Reaching for the phone, he said, Why didn’t you say so? I’ll call Bill and tell him yer here. Whadja say yer name was?

I don’t remember saying, but it’s Jo— Alice Hershey. I thought you said the phone wasn’t working. Her face flushed when she realized that once again she had potentially blown her cover. Maybe he wouldn’t remember.

It ain’t workin’ fer strangers. Works fine fer me. He replied. But instead of dialing, he returned the handset to the cradle.

Aren’t you going to call?

Don’t need to. That’s Bill Curtis behind you now.

She spun around, suddenly aware that she had stopped watching her luggage. Coming in the door was a man dressed in blue jeans and a dirty white T-shirt. His belt buckle was the diameter of a teacup and his boots had pointed toes and high heels. His cowboy hat was old and worn and huge.

You must be Alice Hershey. Don’t worry, I won’t bite. He chuckled as he saw the surprised look on her face. You are probably used to seeing the boss dressed in a suit and necktie. You won’t see much of that here. This is a farm town. Everyone, even the boss, works in the dirt. Now, let’s get your suitcases and I’ll take you to your place.

She regained her composure slightly. My place?

Sure. We knew you didn’t know anyone here so we got you fixed up with a room. Actually, it’s in the same house with another lady. Her name is Hilda Reile. She’s a widow and needs someone else to fill part of the house.

As he drove her the three blocks to her new home, she saw that everyone that saw her was staring. Had they somehow figured out where she was and sent someone here to find her? How had they managed to follow her with all the precautions that were taken? Was there an inside informant? Was it possible that Mr. Davis might not even be someone she should have trusted? If that was the case, she was a dead woman.

At least, she thought, she wasn’t going to go through her available cash as fast as she feared. As early in the day as it was, she would have time to get to the bank today, and she didn’t even have to pay for a hotel room.

Chapter 3

Haigler Nebraska is a small farming town in the southwest corner of the state. Situated on US Route 34, it lies just 1/2 mile north of the Kansas border, and about 10 miles east of the Colorado border. 23 miles to the east is Benkelman, the county seat of Dundy County Nebraska. 17 miles west is Wray Colorado, the county seat of Yuma County. Highway 27 leads south to St. Francis Kansas, the county seat of Cheyenne County. All three neighboring county seats have populations between one and two thousand. Haigler’s in-town population is 203. Make that 204 with the new arrival.

The streets of Haigler are laid out in a grid so that each street is parallel with one of the four major compass directions. Porter Avenue runs from north to south and intersects Highway 34 at right angles. No one knows it as Porter Avenue. The locals have always called it Main Street. South of the highway on Main Street is mostly residence. In the single city block to the north of the highway on Main Street is a small grocery store, a hardware store, the post office, the local cafe, and the bar. Curtis Elevators occupies both sides of Porter avenue just over one block north of the highway. There are also several empty lots that were once the site of businesses that no longer exist. Two blocks west and two blocks south of the main intersection is the Lutheran church. Another block south is the Methodist church. The gas station is one block east of the main intersection. Scattered around town are a few machine repair shops and junkyards. The rest of the town is all residence. Farming is Haigler’s principal business.

Curtis Elevators is the primary farm support business. It consists of the grain storage elevators, a farming supply store, and a repair shop. It is also a dealership for several makes of farming equipment. Bill Curtis, who inherited it from his father-in-law after being second in command for fifteen years, owns it. It employs one girl in the store and two repair mechanics who double as the elevator attendants.

As the business grew, so did the management tasks. The need for record keeping grew beyond all proportions, and Bill decided that he needed to install computers to help keep track of everything. He casually mentioned his intentions to his cousin, Mike Davis, when Mike was in town for their aunt’s funeral last month. Mike told him he knew just the person for the job of managing the computer and its data. Since Bill had no idea how else to find a computer person, and since Mike worked at a large accounting firm in New York, the deal was made, and Alice was hired sight unseen. Bill had no idea that Mike’s accounting firm was a front for a private witness protection agency and he had no idea that Alice Hershey was really Joanna Steinhauer. No one else at the agency knew of her new identity or location. Carl Mitchell would give a fortune to find out.

Chapter 4

Brick Petroni fidgeted with his glasses as he waited. He wished that he had something more positive to report to his boss. He knew that there was a chance that the girl he had spotted the previous night was not Joanna Steinhauer, but if he didn’t come up with something soon he might as well jump off of the Brooklyn Bridge for all his life would be worth. Even in prison Carl’s power reached into many worlds known only to him. He thought of Sonny and shuddered. Sonny had died a horrible death. You didn’t make mistakes like that with Carl. It was because of Sonny that the Jewish girl had seen Carl and was able to identify him. Even though she hadn’t known what the implications were, she had reported the incident and provided the narcs with enough information to add to their own that they were able to make the pick-up and now Carl was in prison. What was uncertain about the girl was what else she may have observed and whether she would consider it important enough to mention. The additional information would kill Carl’s organization if it surfaced. Since nothing about it came out in the trial, it appeared that the data was only in her memory. She must be silenced, and no mistakes could be made. Carl had made sure that the team was able to observe what happened to Sonny and to know that the same results awaited anyone else who screwed up with him.

Brick Petroni, as his last name suggested, was Italian. Half Italian, that is. His mother was Irish, and Brick had the flaming Irish red hair, which contrasted sharply with his otherwise Latin features. It wasn’t his red hair that earned his nickname though. When he was fourteen years old he had killed a ten-year-old girl with a brick. This did not endear him