Fatal Intent - Jamie Jeffries Page 0,52
Paul’s look of alarm, Dylan said, “I’m sure it will be okay.”
It was only later he remembered that was how it had started with her mother. He began to worry then, wondering if her mother’s mental illness was hereditary. Dylan tried to call, but Alex didn’t pick up, so he left a message, apologizing for his part in their row and giving her the address of the house. He’d keep trying.
TWENTY
Late on Sunday afternoon, not having heard from Dylan, she drove back to Casa Grande and went into the house she shared. Lisa looked at her oddly and she remembered she didn’t look like herself. “Hi, Lise,” she said. Lisa’s mouth dropped open when she heard Alex’s voice, and Alex knew her plan would work.
The next day, she put her plan in motion. She didn’t know where the Patriots headquarters were, and even if she had, she wasn’t stupid enough to believe she could walk up to their door and say she’d like to join and kill Mexicans. It could take some time to find a hangout, get noticed and invited to a meeting, and even more time before she was trusted enough to start asking questions. Her first attempt was to drive around to truck stops and wander among the C-store aisles, hoping to overhear some anti-illegals rhetoric she could join.
When that was a bust, she went into a few bars where she found lots of pickups and a few motorcycles outside. The trouble was, that was every bar in Casa Grande, and she hadn’t thought to try to get fake ID. She was underage and even in her disguise she sometimes got carded. Rather than give away her identity, she would slump in apparent disappointment, say ‘never mind’, and leave the bar.
Deciding that wasn’t going to work either, she went home in defeat one evening and told Natalie her problem. “Shooting ranges,” Natalie said.
“I beg your pardon?” Alex asked.
“Shooting ranges. They’re gun nuts, aren’t they?” As taciturn as ever, Natalie didn’t elaborate, but Alex got it. Of course! Where better to find rednecks and ultra-conservatives than at a shooting range, where they could exercise their Second Amendment rights freely and with like-minded people?
As luck would have it, right there on the door of the ammunition shop attached to the first range Alex went to the next day was a flier advertising a meeting of the Patriots! Maybe they weren’t so secret after all.
Alex spent an hour learning to shoot a pink-camouflage semi-automatic weapon, and enjoyed it so much she wished she could buy one. Then reality kicked in. Besides the fact that her dwindling cash didn’t even begin to cover the cost, she couldn’t think of a thing to justify owning one in the first place. She made a note of the location and time of the meeting from the flier, and left, feeling on top of the world
On the day of the Patriots meeting, Alex arrived early and waited across the street from the location listed on the flier. Only when she’d watched long enough to believe they weren’t requiring ID did she approach the door herself. Her heart beating wildly, she approached the door and gave her name as Misty Jenkins. The guy at the door took little notice of her and let her through. Amazed it was so simple, she found a seat near the back and settled in to observe.
As she expected, there was plenty of rhetoric about American jobs and English being the official language of the US, the latter of which she knew to be untrue. Maybe it was outrageous to the descendants of English pioneers, but the US has no official language, and this area had been settled by Spanish pioneers long before the others came west. If there were any justice, she reflected, the Native American languages would also take precedence. Of course, she couldn’t and didn’t say any of what she was thinking. She only hoped she was presenting a neutral face.
By the end of the meeting, Alex concluded that either this was a recruitment meeting, where nothing of substance would be discussed, or there was really nothing to the Patriots. She knew, on the other hand, that several murders had been laid at their door. Dare she attempt to insert herself closer to the inner circle, where she might hear something of value?
There was no opportunity this time, no call to join the membership, if there even was such a thing. What did she expect, an announcement that