The Hum (13 page)

CHAPTER 21

Unsettled, Russell walked down the hall to the jail to speak with the prisoner again. He had to know how many other people the man had killed, how long he’d been hearing the strange hum.

Pulling up an old wooden chair, Russell placed it directly in front of the cell and sifted through the folder they’d created on the man, until he found what he was looking for. It read: Dennis Ridenour, thirty-five, one prior arrest for attempted murder out in Missouri, and one in Florida for beating another man to death at a ball game. The former thrown out due to lack of evidence, and the latter ruled as self defense.

“Mr. Ridenour, I have a few more questions for you.” He looked on as the prisoner got up off the bed and made his way over in front of him. It was obvious that the man was crying, making Russell’s anger towards him slowly dissipate. Sure he was still hurt over losing a friend and deputy, but how could he hate this man when he obviously wasn’t acting on his own accord.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done, Sheriff. I can’t get it out of my head now. It’s always the same: I kill to stop the humming, but it never stays away. It tricks me into thinking it will finally give me some peace, but it always comes back. And the headaches get worse each time. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about ramming a hot poker through my head, just to stop it all.”

Going back to the scene where he’d walked up on Deputy Carlson lying facedown in his own blood, Russell couldn’t help but think about how he’d like to assist Dennis Ridenour with that hot poker. He quickly shook it off, surprised at how easily he could go from not blaming the man, to wanting to take his life for killing Carlson.

“Mr. Ridenour, I need to know how many others you’ve killed, and how long you’ve been hearing this humming sound.”

“Are you sure you want to know, Sheriff? You look like you’re already struggling with my killing your Deputy.”

“Be that as it may, I need get to the source of this mess.”

“The source lives in Taos, but good luck getting to it. Since you’ve been far more courteous to me than I deserve, I’ll gladly tell you what you want to know. When I was seventeen, I was late coming home one night because I was engaging in some extracurricular activities with my girlfriend. My parents had already warned me about staying out past midnight, so by the time I got in they were ready to let me have. It didn’t help that they didn’t approve of my girlfriend, Linda, at the time. But they didn’t know Linda like I did; being a guy yourself, I’m sure you can understand.”

The hallway door suddenly opened and Deputy Ramos poked his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but Julia Carlson is on the phone, and she’s a crying mess. She demanded to speak with you right away.”

Torn, Russell reluctantly said, “Mr. Ridenour, give me about fifteen minutes. I’ll speak with Julia and be right back.”

“She probably wants to see me fry in the electric chair, but if it helps, please tell her how sorry I am. I wish I could stop this...this thing from happening.”

Not knowing how to respond, Russell simply didn’t. He’d tried the whole consoling a killer thing, and wanted no part of it.

Heading into his office, Russell shut the door and listened to the grieving widow plead with him not to transport her husband’s murderer out of Wise. She wanted him tried, and truth be told, hanged right there in Virginia. Her words were hard to make out at times with all the sobbing, but it wasn’t hard to determine her intent, revenge.

Tuning the woman out, Russell’s mind wondered off. He’d dealt with plenty of grieving family members during his tenure with the Bureau, and they all wanted the same thing, payback. He didn’t think he’d be any different if someone harmed Sam and his two children, but he honestly didn’t think it would help the loss either.

It took a good twenty minutes to convince Julia that he’d make sure Mr. Ridenour paid abundantly for his crime, and even at that, she still didn’t seem too convinced.

After hanging up the phone, Russell sat in his seat for a few seconds thinking. His mind automatically went back to his last case with the Bureau, the Club Stalker. He was given the case because of his excellent track record at solving high profile murders, but the Stalker wasn’t your ordinary killer. He left behind zero evidence, killed people that society didn’t mind losing, and was by no means your average Joe. After four long years of chasing the man, Russell finally landed him, but only after he’d kidnapped Sam and Russell’s parents. It was a harrowing experience, one that made him rethink everything important in his life.

Moving back home to Virginia wasn’t exactly a big career boost, but Russell’s current position as Sheriff of the small town allowed him to stay home and actually participate in the lives of his children.

Phoning and telling Sam he’d be late getting in, Russell did his best alleviate her worries. A million assurances later, he went back to the jail to hear about Mr. Ridenour’s murderous adventures. When he got there, he was surprised to see him sitting on the floor with his back resting on the steel bars of the cage.

“Where were we, Mr. Ridenour?”

When he got no immediate response, Russell said, “Mr. Ridenour? Are you okay? Mr. Ridenour?”

Russell started to enter into the cell when the man suddenly started smacking his head against the bars over and over again. It took Russell a few seconds to gather his wits about him, as he stuck his key into the slot and entered in to stop him before he caused permanent damage to his brain.

Abruptly, Mr. Ridenour jumped up, ran over to his bed and separated one of the rails from the frame. Jamming one end of the rail into the corner, he ran face-first into the other.

When he made it over to the man, Russell quickly separated him from the rail and wrapped his forearm around his head to stop the flow of blood, which was spraying all over the small room. It was a gruesome sight, blood spewed outward like a geyser in all directions, and Russell knew it would take more than stitches to make the man look normal again. He’d need Michael Jackson’s plastic surgeon;
scratch that—I said look normal again.

“Deputy Ramos, get me an ambulance down here, now! Tell them to hurry!”

Standing there holding this desperate man’s life in his hands, Russell couldn’t help but think about Julia. For a brief second, he actually entertained the idea of dropping him to the concrete floor of the cell and letting him bleed out. Revenge and murder went hand in hand, and he was quickly seeing that he wasn’t any different than the next guy. The sirens from the ambulance pushed him away from such thoughts, and made him concentrate on helping the injured man.

But he’d later wonder what he would have done, if they hadn’t.

“Grab his legs, Deputy. Let’s get him to the door; it will make it easier for the EMT’s to transport him to the hospital.”

*         *         *

As soon as Sam saw all of the blood on Russell, she dropped the glass plate she’d been toweling off, and ran over to him. “Are you okay? What’s going on, Russell? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. My prisoner, Mr. Ridenour, tried to kill

himself tonight.”

“Oh no. That’s awful. Is he okay?”

“He’s in critical condition, so only time will tell. If he does make it, he’ll need some serious reconstructive facial surgery.”

“What happened? I thought you had him locked up inside the jail.”

“He...he tore the bed apart and rammed his face into one of the rails.”

With her hands covering her face, Sam looked in total shock. Slowly, she removed them, and said, “Why on earth would he do such a thing? Was he trying to commit suicide?”

“This has been one crazy case, babe. First, this man kills Deputy Carlson, then he starts telling me that he’s been hearing this strange humming...”

“Oh no, another one? It’s just like that one case when we first came back here. The one where the man murdered his wife and kids. This is scaring me. What’s going on, Russell?”

“I’m not too sure anymore. Mr. Ridenour told me that he only killed Larry to stop the humming in his head. He was getting ready to tell me about the other people he’d killed, when I got a call from Julia. To make a long story short, when I came back, he lost it.”

“This is too much, Russell. We came here to get away from all the killing. Now, two men claiming to hear the same humming sound end up murdering people out here in the middle of nowhere. Why can’t we just live a normal, quiet life? Why is there so much darkness in this world?”

Wrapping his arms around Sam, Russell said, “I don’t know, babe, but I plan to find out. As soon as Mr. Ridenour comes out of ICU, I told the doctor to call me. There’s more. This man came from the same town as Mr. Black. Taos. We did a little digging and found numerous murders committed by past inhabitants of that town.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I called Dean, and he’s looking into it.”

“That look in your eye tells me that you plan to do more than just let Dean handle this, Russell. Please tell me that’s not the case.”

“This thing is out of control, Sam. It killed one of my deputies. I have to sort this thing out for myself. Whatever is causing this has got to be stopped.”

“But why you? Dean and the Bureau can handle it. That’s what they get paid to do.” Sam said, pulling herself away from him.

“I’m not too sure, Sam. I read something on the internet about this humming sound. The government sent a team over there to look into it back in 1993, and they couldn’t figure it out.”

“Then what makes you think you can? Look, Russell, I know you’re a great detective. But this is different. If the government couldn’t find the source of this thing with all of their pull and funding, I really don’t see how you’re going to.”

“Maybe they didn’t want to figure it out. That report I read said that many of the people in the area believe the humming has something to do with the military. What if they’re running some sort of secret tests out there and it’s messing with people’s heads? It’s just a theory, but this thing is killing innocent people and I

can’t sit back and allow it to continue.”

With tears in her eyes, Sam turned and walked away. Russell heard their bedroom door close down the hall. He knew she was just afraid of losing her family, and he couldn’t blame her. But he also couldn’t let more innocent people meet up with the next weapon this humming sound put in the hands of its hearers.

After cleaning up the broken plate Sam had dropped and eating the dinner she’d left warming in the microwave for him, Russell went into the bedroom to make amends. He knew she was afraid, and rightly so. She’d spent four days in the hands of a madman who killed everyone he came in contact with. Sam was just afraid that this situation might bring more madness to their relatively calm little world.

Rapping lightly on the door, Russell slowly opened it and made his way inside. Sam was already dressed in her pajamas, with her face hidden between the pages of a romance novel.

“I’m sorry about all of this. I didn’t ask for it anymore than you did, but I feel that someone needs to figure out a way to stop it from leaving another family widowed.”

“It’s okay, Russell. I know you’re trying to do the right thing here, and I won’t stand in your way. It’s just hard, you know. I’m afraid you might not make it back to me and the kids.”

Lying down on the bed next to her, Russell pulled Sam’s head over onto his chest. “We’ve been through a lot over the years, and I know it’s been hard. But rest assured when I tell you that I plan on coming back. I will go there and speak with the town Sheriff. If there’s something weird going on, he should know.”

“Just be careful. We need you back here too, you know.”

“Not as much as I need you and the kids. Don’t

worry, I’ll be fine.”

“You’d better be.”

Russell spent the rest of the evening packing, and once he finished, he called the airport to book a flight to New Mexico. With a seven o’clock departure time for the following morning, he knew he had to get up early, so he planned to get a good night’s rest prior to. But to his pleasant surprise, Sam had other plans…

*         *         *

Prior to boarding flight 1645, Russell phoned his second in charge, Deputy Ramos, and filled him in on his whereabouts. It took a few minutes to convince the young deputy that he could handle the responsibility of policing the town, but in the end, he seemed to welcome the opportunity.

Looking down the line of people waiting on the older woman struggling to put her bag in the overhead compartment, Russell prayed he didn’t get another overweight neighbor. He mentally sized each of them up:
he’s skinny, I’ll take him; she has shoulders like Mike Tyson, not her; ah, a kid, I’ll definitely sit next to him—he doesn’t need much room at all.

The seats on most flights were barely wide enough to hold a smaller man, much more one of heavy stature. He hadn’t flown in quite some time, but on one previous occasion, he ended up sharing a row with a rather large fellow who flowed over into his space. It was a long and extremely uncomfortable flight. To make matters worse, his seatmate also fostered a foul body odor. Russell definitely had a few choice words for the airlines after he departed that flight.

When a man wearing a priest’s collar started walking his way, Russell found himself wanting the overweight man back. He wasn’t too fond of Catholics, and he feared his tongue would let loose a few words he’d regret later. He didn’t want the Pope and the entire Catholic Church mad at him; he’d often compared their money and power to that of the mob.