The East Avenue Murders (The Maude Rogers Crime Novels Book 1) (12 page)

It was about two miles to
Ernest’s house: a double wide parked on a small lot in a trailer park surrounded by drooping flowers wilted by the August heat. There were lights on in the trailer, and Ernest jumped out of his car, ran inside the house, and returned soon afterward with a pair of high-top tennis shoes covered with dried mud. He apologized for the condition of the shoes, but Maude was already busy beating the small clods of dried reddish-colored mud off the left shoe. She quickly pulled off her boots and put the shoes on over her socks, spilling dirt upon both front floor mats of the car.

“They fit fine,
Ernest,” she yelled to the deputy as he climbed back in his patrol car. “Much obliged for the use of them. Let’s go. We’ll follow you.”

At least once
, Joe thought that what they were doing was worse than foolish, but he went along with it all, hoping his partner’s experience would lead them down the right path. A rightful plan would have had them waiting till morning when there was light enough to see, but that would have meant several hours lost. Maude believed that every minute counted with Mary Ellen’s life.

The trip was uneventful, taking about twenty minutes to reach the park road that was sorrowful
ly neglected. A large sign read,
Crystal River Caves Park
, with a smaller sign posted underneath that added,
Park Closed
.

The gate to the park was
unsecured, standing open as though blown by the wind, one board loose and dangling from the post. The signs of neglect were everywhere, from pot holes in the road to the waist-high grass beside the deserted buildings at the park entrance. Clearly, some park official had put the care and maintenance of Crystal River Caves Park on the back burner.

The road leading into the
property followed a snake’s path with winding curves that were almost switchbacks, the small road growing steeper all the time. The park was deserted except for the car the detectives were following.

Maude was driving one handed
, smoking a cigarette with the other. The bright lights from the car’s console gave Joe a chance to study the woman assigned as his partner and he could see the tiredness in her face; the lines around her mouth had deepened with sadness after the killer’s abduction of Mary Ellen. Joe hoped he would be helpful in the upcoming events, yet he was concerned that he might not be good enough at his job to support Maude. He turned his eyes away from her and stared out the window, trying to see something in the faint rays of moonlight, but there was nothing except shadows and darkness.

Ernest pulled
his car up against a high mound of rocks and soil and parked, jumping out the door in his eagerness to get going on the chase, whatever it might be. Maude and Joe got out of their vehicle and stood with Ernest for a moment, briefing him on what they hoped to find. The man’s jaw dropped.

“My Lord, I thought we was chasing some dopers out here, I never woulda thought it might be murder or kidnapping way out here in the hills.” 

“I’m sorry to have kept it from you this long, Ernest,” Maude said, “ I wanted to be sure that you were with us, but before we go any further, I want you to know, it’s not too late to jump back in your car and leave us out here. This is not your business, and yeah, we need your help, but I won’t think less of you if you decide to say adios.”

“No
Ma’am, Ernest Garrison may be just a ole sheriff’s deputy and dumb to boot, but the job needs to be done and he’s your man.”

“You may be dumb Ernest, to go along with us on this wild trip in
the dark, but you are one brave, fine man.” Maude finished. “Now what’s next, where do we go to get in the cave?” Maude was impatient, needing to get on with it, to see if their figuring was right and the killer had brought Mary Ellen to such a deserted hell hole.

“Well
ma’am, first, there is more than one cave, it’s kind of like a bunch of rooms connected one after the other back into the cliff.” Ernest began unloading the truck, getting the rope coiled for carrying, and the flashlights distributed.

“Oh yeah,” he said, “
I brung a thermos of coffee, if you want it. These here are the caves they first opened in the eighties, not as big as some of them down at Sonora, but pretty durn big.” Ernest went on, “It’s pretty easy to get to, we have to cross over that gully over there, and then there’s a kind of rock ladder that the park people think was made by some real old bunches of people that used to live in the caves.”

‘Well
okay, let’s get after it Ernest.” Maude said “We made a long trip over from Madison, and I’d like to get this done as soon possible.”

The gully turned out to be a twenty feet deep chasm with a thirty
foot long water pipe about fourteen inches in diameter running the length of it with no handrails of any kind.

“Sorry
ma’am,” Ernest apologized, the moonlight shining on his round friendly face. “There used to be a little walkway bridge and it weren’t any trouble at all to walk across. Seems like the park people don’t want anyone going over to that cave.”

“Maybe it isn’t the park people, Ernest. Maybe
someone else moved that bridge,” Joe said cryptically, “someone that doesn’t want us down here. Maybe we should go back.”

“Joe,
you alright?” Maude asked, walking ahead of him. “If you can follow up on the tail end and watch our backs, I’d be much obliged.”

Detective Allen felt his most primal fear about to overtake him.
The dread of heights and no handrails was in many of his nightmares; walking along cliff edges and falling was a returning theme that left him dry-mouthed with an upset stomach when he woke in the morning.

“I don’t know Maude. I’ll do my best. You got my mama’s phone number?” he asked worriedly.  “I’d appreciate it if you’d give her a call if anything happens to me.”

“Oh heck, Joe, you’re not going to fall. Just watch me and see where I put my feet.”

“Maude, I already can’t see where to walk. Watching you means I’d have to take my flashlight off the pipe
, then I won’t see where my feet are stepping!” the traumatized detective managed to say, about to take a step over what he believed to be his death chasm.

“Wait a minute
, Joe.” Maude said, turning around in the middle of the pipe, and walking back to the beginning where Joe stood.

“
How did you do that?” Joe yelled.

“Just wait, Joe,” she said, getting behind him.
“Ernest,” she yelled, “Come back here if you don’t mind.”

The big deputy had already reached the other side
, but being an accommodating, light-on-his-feet man, he turned and walked back across the pipe. “Okay, now what?” he asked.

“We’re going to lead Joe across, y
ou in the front, me in the back. Get that rope and tie it to our waists. Joe can’t help himself, it’s a paralyzing fear he has. This way if one of us falls, the other two can catch the one going over.” she added for Joe’s sake.

“Yes
ma’am, but what are we supposed to hold onto if somebody is going over the edge?” Ernest whispered close to Maude.

“Shshsh.
Hush Ernest,” she whispered with a frown, rolling her eyes toward her partner who was clearly trying to gather courage for the task ahead.

“Now just a few steps Ernest, get us going, and Joe, you follow Ernest. You’ll be fine. Just watch Ernest’s butt and put your feet down real easy.” Maude said encouragingly.
“And don’t look down.”

Gingerly, Joe took his first step, then the second, and Maude could hear his breath coming and going,
wheezing with the effort to get air through his paralyzed lungs.

“Going good Joe, we’re almost there. Three more steps and you’re off this pipe.” Maude continued, trying to take the detective’s mind off his fear.

Ernest stepped off the pipe and Joe followed shortly after with Maude trailing along behind. She caught up and began unfastening the rope around her waist..

“Well that’s over with.” she said cheerfully.

“Until we have to go back,” Joe croaked, breathing deeply. His throat scratchy after shallow breathing on the pipe walk; he sat down briefly to get more oxygen into his lungs.

“Oh well,” Ernest said
off-handedly, “we can just walk across the county-highway bridge when we go back. About a hundred yards down yonder,” he said, pointing through a stand of cedar trees.

“Ernest,
what’s going on? Why didn’t we go that way instead of this pipe-walking in the dark and scaring the heck out of Joe?” Maude asked quietly.

“Well, I guess we could have, but t
his was closer and we’re in a hurry.” Ernest said matter-of-factly, walking away toward a large mound that Maude believed to be near the river.

“I wouldn’t want to be you when Joe finds out about that.” Maude said, shaking her head, grinning a little at the deputy’s back.

The rest of the journey to the cave was easier, mostly on flat ground, with Ernest leading them toward a dark spot on the horizon. The moon had brightened as it rose higher in the sky, illuminating the path. They were all aware that they could be seen by anyone watching from above near the tops of the caves. Before long Ernest arrived at a fenced in area where large flat rocks were stacked creating a barrier to what appeared to be a tall jutting rock. Climbing over the barrier was easy, but the idea of scorpions and snakes in the dark worried Maude a little. Beyond the rock fence they found man-made steps cut deeply into the solid rock face, treads smoothed with age. Park officials had built a series of hand holds to allow for climbing to the top which thankfully was not more than fifteen feet off the ground.

Poor Joe
, Maude thought to herself,
he may be rethinking that profiling job he left.

“I think we should get ready,
he may be here watching for us, waiting to knock us off this wall.” she whispered. “Be prepared. Joe you back there?” Maude whispered again.  “I’m depending on you. When I start up this wall my knees may buckle and I can’t do much.”

“Yeah, Maude,
I got it. I’ll be alright. Sorry about that pipe thing. Don’t know what came over me.” Joe was upset that he couldn’t conquer the old fear that ran so deep. Positioning his weapon where it could be easily retrieved, he started up the wall behind Maude, once again trailing behind.

The
y reached the top of the wall without incident and breached the natural opening in the apex of the great rock with little effort. There was no sign of human traffic in the dust though cat tracks were plentiful and gave Maude pause. Mountain lions could be fierce when their dens were threatened. A feeling of disappointment washed over her. There were no signs of human occupation and the place didn’t feel like a crime scene.

A detective was first trained as a peace officer, responsible to the victims
of crime, no matter how great or small the incident. Those who forgot what they had been taught washed out after a while or went across the line to the other side. A few lasted in the job, but their sour attitudes about duty weren’t tolerated by good cops. Maude and Joe were good cops who became detectives. The empty cave was a responsibility, and no matter how badly Maude wanted to leave it, and continue the hunt, she had an obligation to thoroughly search the area then log it as a false lead. That took valuable time, but it had to be done.

Flashlights and ropes were a necessity for entering a hole in the ground
, no matter how high or how low the location. The rooms of Cave-A extended approximately one hundred feet through open areas, burrowing on for unknown depths to the river below. There was no sign of life in those rooms, only animal tracks, some old and some more recent. Maude was glad it was summer time, for most denning animals were still active. There would have been hell to pay if Maude Rogers had walked in on a family of mountain cats. Her natural fear of wild animals was intensified because unlike many women she knew, Maude didn’t like cats of any sort.

After the obligatory search was done
, Maude’s instincts were proven right, but even so, the night had progressed and Mary Ellen was still missing. Quickly gathering their equipment together, the detectives led by Deputy Ernest Garrison departed the scene without further ado.

The trip across the county bridge was fast and painless. Joe had forgiven Ernest for forcing him to walk across the water
-pipe in the dark, putting it down to experience. Henceforth he would always ask Ernest to specify if there was any other way of accomplishing a task for the deputy tended at times to take the hard route.

The detectives outfitted themselves with the rest of the equipment, not forgetting the hard hats as they readied themselves for another walk. Ernest told them that the next trek was about a hundred feet from the end of the road where the truck was parked. The path would wind around the cliff
, allowing a gentle ascent. He told them that they needed to be very careful as they got closer to the water, because the rocks could be loose and might fall into the river. They should be on their guard to not slide down into the water with the
scree
at the base of the cliff. Ernest said he remembered that word from one of his and the kid’s trips to the caves when the park ranger was leading, giving a tour. Maude nodded then followed Ernest and Joe came along as a reluctant third, his fear of heights not lessened with time.

The path was overgrown although there were spots in the grass that were stamped down by deer or other animals that prowled along the river. The sound of rushing water was louder with each step, an indication they were taking the right trail. Maude wished there was more
natural light for the moon’s pale illumination created shadows where the trees overcast the trail. The flashlight’s beam covered the walking path, eliminating missteps, but she worried that the old batteries wouldn’t last long enough. A few light clouds passed over the moon and the night sounds of the local wildlife intensified as the light ebbed. A whippoorwill’s plaintive call echoed throughout the forested area over and over. Locusts rubbed skinny legs against winged bodies in an airborne, moonlight opera; the repetitive hoot of an adult owl in hunt the diva in the arboreal performance. The surreal backdrop of the cliffs in the distance created a chill in the air not brought on by ambient weather.

Joe was holding up, taking the path and its rocky surface one step at a time, grabbing bushes or tree limbs as he walked to help steady hi
s forward motion. He noticed the steepness of the incline had increased and at some places they were walking at almost forty-five degrees. All three law enforcement officers had grown silent as they moved closer to the entrance of the cave.

If the killer
waited inside for them, he must not know the progress of their approach. At one point Ernest was spooked by some sound, for he lifted his shotgun to a more usable position and waited for a minute before continuing. They had tied the ropes around themselves as the path began its climb, the safety line attached from one to the next, with less chance of a slip and fall. Joe was especially grateful for the rope.

Maude
thought about the place they were going, wondering how the park was run when it was on-line. Surely there had been safety barriers along the path to assist travelers climbing the hill-otherwise the Parks Department could have been responsible for falls. There must have been posts with rope tied between them, handholds for the weaker ones who made the trek to the caves. She was beginning to see why the tourists quit coming to the cave. There was too great a feeling of danger for the sightseer on the rocky path. The place was, however, the perfect spot for a nefarious criminal who lived to create chaos. Her cop instincts were sounding in her gut, they were on the right track.

Ernest started to say
something, but Maude shushed him.

“Quiet
,” she whispered, touching the deputy on the shoulder. Joe was alerted also, feeling the presence of evil’s work somewhere ahead of them. The big man nodded and pointed to a dark spot off to the left of them, keeping his flashlight trained on the ground beside him extinguishing the long shine.

Both detectives understood that the cave entrance was just ahead and began to catch their breath
and prepare for a possible ordeal.  Maude and Joe both wanted desperately to catch the killer off-guard and take him back to Madison with them, where he could be locked away from society forever. The first priority, however, was to find Mary Ellen.

The silence was palpable, even the wild
life had shut down their sounds. The two detectives and the deputy felt the tension; the nighttime environment had taken a turn for the worse. Maude realized she needed to lead the men into the heart of the darkness presented to them; she must march unafraid into whatever diabolical plot the killer had prepared for them. Taking the lead from Ernest, Maude began the trek forward, toward the cave entrance, keeping herself alert to other changes in the shadows around the path. A wrong turn could be fatal at that juncture where the outcropping of the cave met with the path; the faraway river beneath its tabletop sure death to anyone falling toward its depths.

The entrance became clearer as they moved closer, the sheer sides of the natural caverns reaching high above their heads. Maude believed that the daytime light would show beautiful scenery beneath their feet and around them, but in the darkness there was no beauty, only caution and fear. The far eastern sky had begun to lighten, a prelude to dawn and natural light.
She was tempted to wait a while until the earth finished its nightly turn and the sun came up, but they were committed to the task at hand. There was no stopping or turning back. She motioned to the two men to train their flashlights on the cave entrance and as one, all three beams lit up the large opening into the deep caverns. The entrance was clear, without any sign of human or animal presence to greet them, but Maude knew she was in the right place this time. She breathed a little sigh of relief that would not be attacked by anyone lying in wait as they entered the cave.

Ernest whispered, “Miss Maude, do you want me to go first since I know this here cave? Me and my kids have all been here a few times
, so it might be better if someone who knows the way goes through first.”

There was logic in what the big man said, but Maude hated to put him into the line of fire i
n case the killer was hiding inside. Still, it did make more sense for him to lead them instead of her or Joe who didn’t know anything about the interior passages of the cave.

“Okay, Ernest, but don’t take any chances. If
he’s in there and is of a mind to do it, he’ll put a hole right through your skull.”

The outside darkness was nothing
in comparison to the inside of the cavern where no light reflected; the dungeons of old held that kind of darkness. Maude was fearful for Mary Ellen if she was still alive. What kind of terror had she suffered and could she move away from it back to a normal existence. Shaking her head with dread, Maude moved forward with Joe bringing up the rear trying to watch their backs. Walking was much easier on the table top part of the outcropping of rock.

A
marble-smooth surface lay just under the layers of dust and dirt. Shining her light both right and left, she searched for any tell-tale signs of human traffic in the dust, but none was there. Maude knew there was a possibility that she had miscalculated again and Mary Ellen was suffering somewhere else, but instinct kept reassuring her the killer had been there. The drive to step further into the darkness was stronger with each step.

After Ernest passed through the opening without incident he breathed a little easier, feeling more secure each minute that nothing happened.
The thought of his kids at home gave him comfort, two boys and a girl, all teenagers who definitely loved their daddy but hardly ever had any time for him. His wife was always too busy with her sewing and quilting to wonder what he might be doing, yet Ernest was sure of her love and concern for him.

When he had picked up the stuff from the house she was still awake, cutting out pieces to sew back together for a new
pieced top that she and the girls at church would finish for a nice big quilt. The church made a little money by selling the quilts, but not enough to account for all the work in them. She didn’t seem to care though, just went right back with a new one each time she was done. Ernest wished there was something he liked that well. Maybe the boredom of the job wouldn’t be so bad if at the end of the week he could be busy with a hobby. One thing for sure, he was not bored working with Miss Maude.

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna find myself a hobby.” he said aloud, grinning to himself.

“Ernest,” Maude whispered, “Are you okay? I hear you groaning.”

“Yes
ma’am, I am just talking to myself.”

“Then cut it out, you sound like you’re hurt.”

“Yes ma’am, I will.”

“And quit saying
, ‘Yes ma’am”.

“
Umm, okay ma’am,” he whispered.

Joe was fidgety, blind to what was behind him, and unsure of what to do next. They kept the ropes on themselves
while walking through the cave’s pure darkness.

Ernest led them into the depths of the first room, his light revealing nothing other than the crystals within the cave. Maude kept her flashlight darting about the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bad guy, but it wasn’t in the cards in those early morning hours. Whatever
, or whoever’s aura they had all felt out on the walkway bridge to the cave had gone or his personality had diminished. The rooms so far were empty.

They continued to walk, watching for overhangs, and missing them,
feeling the clang of the hard-hats against low-lying rock formations in above the path. A telltale odor was coming from somewhere in the caverns. They all smelled it as the group progressed further-the unmatched odor of death and the rot of once-living tissue. Just inside the second room they found the remains of a dead raccoon along with cat tracks. Off to the side there was also human shoe prints in the dust on the cave’s floor.

Maude took a moment, hitched up her jeans, wip
ed her eyes and carried forward, knowing they were on the right track and the killer had been there and Mary Ellen was close. Other times in her life Maude had been in a similar position. Losing people was terrible. First, Paul died, such a waste. She had loved him to distraction, but that wasn’t enough to keep him safe in the jungles of Viet Nam. Her memory had faded in some things, but not in the whirlwind courtship and marriage of her youth.

She
had been twenty years old, finished with her second year at the university. Rambunctious and daring, she was not afraid of most things and lived life to extremes. Pretty, oh yes, she had been quite pretty, her body young and responsive. Paul Rogers was visiting the state university in Oklahoma, full of plans for his future.

The couple
had met on the grounds of the school when she enrolled for her junior year. For Maude, it was love at first sight. The young man was tall with black curls that fell across his forehead, brown eyes that opened into his soul and a smile so compelling that she lost her heart within the first five minutes. They started dating the next day, a full-on courtship that lasted less than two months then he popped the big question. She had only one answer, ‘yes’.

They were married two weeks from the day,
with Grace standing beside her and Paul’s friend as the best man. What Maude didn’t know was: a letter had come to her new husband inviting, no, insisting that he represent his country at the local military recruitment center within that same two weeks.

The day they were married was h
eaven, the culmination of her secret dreams. She could hardly wait for the ceremony to end before stripping off her white dress then pulling her new husband down to the rickety hotel bed, finding the fulfillment that she had known would be there.

He was gone within three months
, but they stored a lifetime of love within those days and hours that were left for them. Paul was brash, had threatened to go to Canada to avoid the draft, to take her with him and live the life of a draft-dodger, but the idea was too foreign for both of them. Later she wished they had gone.

He never returned from
Viet Nam, for some north Viet Cong soldiers claimed the best part of him. They shot his body full of holes and left him on the cold, wet ground. The military man in dress uniform told her, sure, but it never really seemed real, until later when the rest of her world fell apart.

Maude wanted to weep for her losses, but it was not to be, there was a much more pressing need now. She knew in her heart that Mary Ellen was beyond savi
ng. A whit-hot rage filled her. She wanted to tear the kidnapper apart for taking the girl. Murderous thoughts filled her mind, of all the torment she would put the man through when they got him, but under all of that, a sadness of intense proportion almost brought her to her knees.

Maude
cast her feelings aside and plodded on, following Ernest around the crystal formations, over the small rocks that had broken off and fallen upon the floor. Finally, the deputy led them into the room, the dreadful room where that ‘sweet, wonderful, young woman’ hung upon a makeshift cross, chained at the waist and attached in such a way that she would never have escaped her bondage.

The killer
had left generator-powered spotlights trained upon Mary Ellen’s naked body ready to be switched to the
on
position. The result was a garishly lit, macabre scene for the detectives and all others who would come. A note was beside the body, just three words; “
You’re
t
oo late”.
Maude believed his glee from the staged event must have been over the top.