Bug Out! Part 11: Motorhomes on the Dark Road (15 page)

“This house. As soon as he finds out the connection between my dad and the Torso Murderer, he’ll be right here.”

“How’s he going to find out? He doesn’t have these movies. You don’t have copies of this stuff back at the RV Park, do you?”

“No, but he’ll use his connections to find transcripts of the interviews the cops did with my dad and Rupert.”

“Rupert?”

“Yeah, Rupert Smith. He owned this house. He was the Torso Killer. A second year detective could figure it out, and Malcolm is one smart son of a bitch.”

“Why do you look happy about this?”

“Because we can set a trap for him,” Scott said. “He won’t live through it.”

“You think you’ll do that and get away?”

“Oh, I’ll do it,” Scott said. “If I live through it or not will be the luck of the draw.”

“Well, I’m leaving,” Howard said. “And I’m taking Kerry and Bailey with me.”

“No you aren’t,” Scott said, his voice flat. “You tell me where you’re gonna go. You need to help me with this. I can’t do it alone, and if I fail, he’ll find you in no time flat. You know it.”

Howard dropped onto a kitchen chair, resting his head in his hands.

“Pull on your big boy pants, Howie. Help me find the girl. She’s getting it. We need to hurry before the party begins.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Howard said. “Drop it.”

“Sorry, man. I’m not wired that way. She goes down.”

Howard sighed.

Bailey appeared and studied both of them. “Uh oh, what happened?”

***

Agent Keith paced in his office. The receptionist buzzed his phone.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Sheriff Branson and Deputy Lawrence are here.”

“Good, send them in,” he said.

The door opened, and the Sheriff and Deputy walked in.

“Hello, again,” Agent Keith said. “Nice to see you. Please have a seat.”

The two men sat on chairs in front of the desk, and Agent Keith sat behind his desk.

“Hold my calls, Jackie,” he said through his speaker phone. Then he leaned back in his chair.

“What’s on your mind, Agent Keith?” Sheriff Branson asked. “I already gave you all the evidence we had on the farmhouse biker massacre.”

“Thought you might be interested in following up,” the agent replied. “We just got a tip. Ever hear of the Nighthawk Road Killer?”

“Who hasn’t,” Deputy Lawrence said. Sheriff Branson eyeballed him, giving him the
shut up
stare.

“Yes, of course we’ve heard of the Nighthawk Road Killer. You know about the girl they found down the road a ways, right?”

“Kayla Duncan,” Agent Keith said. “Another reason I called you.”

“So you’re thinking the massacre and the murder of Kayla Duncan are related?” Sheriff Branson asked.

“Yes,” Agent Keith said.

“I don’t see it,” Sheriff Branson said. “Don’t even think the Kayla Duncan murder was really the Nighthawk Road Killer. I think it’s a copycat. Why would a set of markings that stopped over ten years ago start up just like that? Somebody got access to the case files.”

“There was one other problem with that one, too,” Deputy Lawrence said. “No sexual assault, remember?”

Agent Keith looked them both over. “You heard about Amanda Smith, right?”

“Yeah, I heard about her,” Sheriff Branson said.

“Same markings, and she
was
sexually assaulted, by more than one person. She disappeared with Kayla. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, we know that,” Sheriff Branson said. “I know it was the same killer for both girls, I just think it’s somebody who wants us to think they’re the Nighthawk Road Killer.”

“I think I can convince you otherwise,” Agent Keith said.

“Now why would you want to do that, Agent Keith?”

“I need somebody to help me follow up on a tip,” he said. “You two have experience with these guys.”

“You have the whole FBI to help you,” Sheriff Branson said. “Why would you want a Sheriff from a small town in Ohio to help you?”

“I’d rather not bring in my fellow agents,” he said. “You’ll just have to trust me on that.”

“Why?” Sheriff Branson asked.

“Because of where the tip came from,” he said. “I can’t tell you the details.”

“I need to know where the tip came from, or we’re walking right out that door,” Sheriff Branson said, standing up. “No more BS. I don’t work for you.”

“Relax,” Agent Keith said. “Sit down.”

“No, you tell me where the tip came from.”

“Ted Crowley,” he said.

“Crowley, huh?” Sheriff Branson said. He sat back down. “Serial Killer Task Force?”

“Yeah, what’s left of it,” Agent Keith said. “The war has put a damper on that team, I’m afraid.”

“Not surprised,” Sheriff Branson said. “I’m still not getting why you need us. This is a bureau job.”

Agent Keith sighed. “Remember Margo Valdez?”

“Yeah,” Sheriff Branson said. “What about her?”

“There was a plant in the bureau who was passing info to her. We think the same person is passing info to Nighthawk.”

“Sounds like a job for FBI internal affairs,” Sheriff Branson said, eyeing him with distrust.

“You’re right, only we don’t know who it is,” Agent Keith said.

The sheriff sat silently for a moment. Deputy Lawrence looked at him, his expression indicating that he had something to say. Branson leveled his eyes at him again.
Shut up.

“Okay, what do you want us to do?” Sheriff Branson asked.

“I want you to take a trip with me to Columbus, Ohio,” he said.

“When?”

“In a couple of days,” he said. “Got some things to take care of first.”

“I’ll have to check with the town council,” Sheriff Branson said. “I can let you know later today.”

“Great,” Agent Keith said. “Give me a call. I don’t care how late.”

The Sheriff and the Deputy got up and headed for the door. “You’ll be hearing from us, then. Nice to see you again, Agent.”

“Thanks for coming in, gentlemen,” Agent Keith said, showing them out, closing the door behind them.

They walked down the long hallway and took the elevator to the parking structure. The Sheriff got behind the wheel and looked over at the Deputy. “Thanks for keeping your mouth shut,” he said.

“He doesn’t know that you and Ted Crowley are friends, does he?”

“I hope not,” Sheriff Branson said. “This guy’s full of crap.”

“So what now?”

“We get back to the office and call Ted,” Sheriff Branson said.

“Want me to drive so you can call him from the car?”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea,” Branson said. “Let’s get out of this structure and drive down a couple blocks, then we’ll switch.”

Deputy Lawrence nodded as he drove round and round, heading for the parking structure exit.

The Sheriff parked at a mini mart, and Deputy Lawrence took the wheel. Branson took out his phone as they took off.

“Ted?”

“Who’s this?”

“Dick Branson.”

“Holy shit, how the hell are you?” Ted asked.

“Good, Ted. How’s the family?”

“Very good, Thanks. Yours?”

“Okay. Don’t see them much these days,” Branson said. “You sound like you’re in a car.”

“Yeah,” Ted said. “I’m driving into Kansas.”

“On purpose? What the hell are you up to in Kansas?” Branson asked.

“Meeting an old friend,” he said. “Remember Malcolm Davis?”

There was a pause on the line. Sheriff Branson rubbed his forehead.

“Son of a bitch.”

“What’s the matter, Dick?”

“I just had a meeting with Agent Keith of the FBI. Now I have an idea why.”

“Dammit,” Ted said. “I thought that son of a bitch would have settled down by now. He’s still trying to get Malcolm.”

“He’s dirty,” Sheriff Branson said. “You know that, right? I need to tell you about what happened at that biker massacre.”

“Why’d he get involved with that?”

“Because of what we found in the basement of the farmhouse,” Sheriff Branson said. “I called in the FBI. Too bad it had to be this asshole.”

“What was in the basement?” Ted asked.

“Torture chamber,” Sheriff Branson said. “He’s saying the same folks did the bikers, Amanda Smith, and Kayla Duncan. Says it’s the Nighthawk Road Killer.”

“He might be right about that,” Ted said. “We need to talk in detail.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Sheriff Branson said.

“What’d he want to see you for?”

“He wants us to help him round up the killers in Columbus. Says he can’t use bureau people because of a mole.”

Ted laughed out loud. “Seriously? What’d you tell him?”

“I told him I needed to chat with the town council before I could agree. I’m supposed to call him back tonight.”

“Here’s my suggestion,” Ted said. “Go with him. We’ll beat him at his own game.”

“What are you doing?” Branson asked.

“Malcolm Davis, George Franklin, and I are going to Columbus. They’re in Kansas right now. I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

Branson smiled. “This might be fun.”

“Damn straight,” Ted said. “I’ll tell you what. After I get settled with Malcolm and George, let’s do a conference call.”

“Look forward to it,” Branson said. “I’ll call Agent Keith and
reluctantly
agree to help him.”

“Talk to you soon,” Ted said.

General Hogan came back
into the clubhouse. He walked over to Frank and Jasmine.

“The others still watching that VHS?” he asked.

Frank sighed. “Yeah. What’s up?”

“You guys were right about the lead. They’re building shelters. Call up this satellite.” He slipped Frank a piece of paper. Frank typed on his keyboard and logged into the satellite.

“See, look at those modular houses there,” he said.

“They look like double wides,” Frank said. Jasmine looked over Frank’s shoulder.

“There’s enough of those for a thousand men?”

“That’s only part of them. Move to the south about two miles.”

Frank navigated south and gasped. “There’s an industrial park that close?”

“Yeah,” General Hogan said. “It’s abandoned.”

“They know they can’t win, so why go through this?” Jasmine asked. “Why not just make for Mexico and slip out through a harbor or something?”

“They aren’t interested in getting away,” General Hogan said. “These are true believers. The ones who refused to surrender. They’re planning on taking as many Yankees down as they can on their way to the great beyond.”

“Oh, yeah, the 72 virgins,” Jasmine said, laughing. “So what do we do?”

“You really believe they think this will work?” Frank asked. “They have to know we’ll see this. They understand the capabilities of our satellite systems, and they know we’ve taken them out in their shielded vehicles.”

“I need to think on this for a while,” General Hogan said. “You have a good point Frank. Talk to you later.”

***

The VHS tapes were still running. It had been hours. They were on the third girl. Jane had enough. Jerry was nearing the end of his rope too. Malcolm finally quit watching and fired up his laptop. George and Heidi still watched, but both of them looked uncomfortable, almost shell shocked.

“You guys had enough?” Malcolm asked, turning from his laptop screen.

“Yeah,” George said. “What now?”

“We go get Sherry. I have her address and the make, model, and license plate of her car.”

“You’re going to go get her?” Trish asked.

Malcolm smiled. “You didn’t think I was going to let her go after all that, did you?”

“Good,” George said. “I thought it was just me.”

“We need to take off now if we’re going to nab her,” Heidi said.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Malcolm said. He switched off the tape, and they left the lounge, heading up to the barn.

“We killing her or bringing her back to a cell?” Heidi asked.

“That’ll be up to her,” Malcolm said. “I want to see if we can enlist a little help.”

“You don’t think the three of us can take her?” George asked.

“I want somebody along as back-up just in case,” Malcolm said. “We assume she’s alone. She might have pieces of a clan left. Nobody gets into that with the zeal she did and just stops.”

“Who do you want to take?” Heidi asked.

“The Sheriff and Charlie, if they’re willing.”

“You want the law enforcement experience,” she said.

“Damn straight.”

They walked over to the Sheriff’s rig. He was sitting in front of it with Jackson, sipping whiskey and talking.

“Done with the home movies?” Jackson asked.

“We saw what we needed to see,” Malcolm said. “Sheriff, you drink much of that whiskey?”

“Nah, not too much,” he said. “Why?”

“We’re going to go get Sherry,” Malcolm said.

“You’re going to what?” the Sheriff asked, sitting up straighter.

“C’mon, Sheriff, you didn’t think I was going to let her get away with that, did you?” Malcolm said, a sly grin on his face.

The Sheriff smiled. “I was starting to lose respect for you. It’s been restored. You know where she is?”

“I’ve got her address and the make, model, and license plate of her car,” Malcolm said. “I was figuring that George, Heidi, and I cruise up there and see if she’s left yet. Maybe you and Charlie could come along for backup.”

“I’m good, but I’m not sure Charlie will go along. What are we gonna do with her?”

“If we can take her alive, I say we dump her in a cell until it’s a good time to turn her and the evidence over to the cops,” Malcolm said. “She might have people with her though. We need to be careful.”

“What makes you think that?” Jackson asked.

“She wasn’t coerced into that garbage on the tapes. She was into it. Probably killed her husband too, by the way. There are others more recent. She’s been active during the past six months, from the look of things.”

“You’re thinking she might have a clan left?” the Sheriff asked.

“Yeah,” Malcolm said.

“What if there are several?” Jackson said. “We bringing all of them back here?”

“If there’s several, they won’t live through this,” Malcolm said, grinning.

“Alright if I go along?” Jackson asked.

“Fine by me, but you hang back with a rifle. You’ve had too much whiskey to be in the thick of it,” the Sheriff said. “Let’s go talk to Charlie. He’s in his rig.”