The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (10 page)

TED
and Oliver had been gone for over thirty minutes,
when Gyp started to whimper. Over at the woods, Amy could see flashlight beams
dancing behind the tree line.

“They’re back,” Amy said.

Amy, Tanya, and Louise, rose up from their chairs by the
campfire.

“God, I hope Johno is with them,” Louise said. Her face was
ashen, and her hands were trembling.

Amy took hold of Louise’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Ted appeared first, then Oliver, but Johno wasn’t with them. Louise turned to
Amy, throwing her arms around her and sniffling. Amy rested Johno’s rifle
against her chair and cuddled Louise.

“There, there, let’s wait to see what they have to say.”

Tanya joined them in a group hug. Louise pulled away as Ted
approached.

“Sorry, girls, there’s no sign of him. We followed his
tracks along the shoreline, but when they hit the pebbles facing the woods, all
we could do was to search out there in the trees.”

“He could be hurt. He could’ve fallen down a ravine. We need
to get help,” Louise said, and fell to her knees, crying. “This is all your
fault, Ted Carter, getting him drunk.”

Ted inspected his boots.

Amy took out her cell phone. There was no signal.

“Everyone, check your cell phones, mine has no signal,” said
Amy.

“None of us ’ll get a signal here,” said Ted. “I’ll need to
drive away from the mountains to get a signal. Did Johno have his cell with
him?”

“No, it’s in our tent?” said Louise, and dried her eyes with
her sleeve.

Darkness turned to gray hues of dawn, with the rising sun
still hidden behind the mountains to the east.

“It’s no good blaming anyone,” said Amy, “Accusations won’t
help find him. We need to phone my dad and ask him to arrange for a search
party.”

Louise hauled herself to her feet. “Ah, sticking up for him
now,” she said.”

Ted threw his flashlight on the pebbles.

“I didn’t make him drink the damn stuff. Besides, he was
sober enough to put his pants and sneakers on outside the tent. Amy’s right; we
need to get to an area where we can phone her dad, instead of bickering at
whose fault it is, and sniveling. He’s my friend too. I really am sorry,
Louise.” The apology was delivered with sincerity.

A rifle shot rang out from the direction of the woods. All
heads turned.

“Could that be Johno,” Oliver asked.

“No, I have his rifle,” said Amy.

They all exchanged puzzled glances, then faced the woods.
Gyp sniffed the air and then growled.

“Get behind us,” said Ted, and pulled at Oliver’s T-shirt.
Ted slid his rifle in front of him and held it loosely. Oliver followed suit,
and stood beside him. Gyp ran off toward the tents. Amy looked over in time to
see Gyp disappear into her tent. When she snapped her vision back to the woods,
a huntsman appeared. He wore camouflage dress from head to toe, and he was
resting a hunting rifle in his arms. Ten yards to his left, another one
appeared, and then another one ten yards to his right. Amy could make out one
more moving at the tree line as the three approached.

“It’s the preppers,” said Oliver. “Maybe they can help us
find Johno.”

“How do you know them?” Ted asked

“I don’t know them, except they chased me and Johno away
from their camp when we were kids out hiking, years ago. Their place is over at
the old silver mine quarry. I’ve seen them around since. They always wear those
green and brown bandanas to match their camouflage gear,” Oliver said. “They
have a bug-out base near here for when the world ends, or all the electricity
is knocked out by sunspots. That’s why they’re called preppers... always
prepared.”

Amy had seen documentaries on the cable channels about the
survivalists. She thought they were nutty as chocolate-chip cookies, but hers
was not to reason why as long as they could help. As the first one joined them,
he held his arm to shield his eyes. Amy looked over her shoulder. The sky had
an orange cast as the sun peaked over the mountain.

“Can you help us?” asked Ted. “Our friend’s gone missing in
the woods. You’ve not seen him, have you? You can’t miss him really, two hundred
pounds, five foot four, and walks with a wobble.”

The guy stood in front of Ted, honked phlegm into his
gizzard and spat it out on the fire.

“Can’t say as I’ve seen him. Maybe you can help us? We’re
looking for a feral dog that’s been running off with our goats this past week.
Strange looking crossbreed, large, black and white coat.”

Amy pushed her way through.

“I saw something. Last night in our camp. It could have been
your dog. I saw it rear up on two...”

Amy felt the dig of Ted’s elbow in her side. Their
description sounded like Ted’s dog, Polly, a strange cross between a Husky and
some other breed that he kept locked up in his back yard. Then she remembered.
Polly was there the night she’d slept at his cabin, or was it the night before?

“Take no notice of her,” Ted said. “It was probably a shadow
of a possum from the light of the Tilley lamp that she saw. This is Amy, the
sheriff’s daughter. We’ve phoned her dad to set up a search party.”

The preppers exchanged glances. Amy wondered why Ted had
given her a title of the sheriff’s daughter, and lied about calling her dad,
but then they did look intimidating. One of them repeatedly stretched his neck
and lifted his chin, sniffing the air in Amy’s direction. Amy thought it an odd
disposition. He fixed his vision in the direction of Amy’s tent, continuing to
sniff, before turning and ushering the lead prepper to one side, then whispered
in his ear. The lead prepper stepped forward.

“We’ll look for your friend. Best you pack up and go back to
town, for when your dad sorts out a search party.”

“We’ll go with you,” said Ted. “The girls could pack up and
head to town.”

“No offence, son, but we wouldn’t want you to get in the
crossfire if we come up against the dog. We like to work alone. If we find your
friend before the search party arrives, we’ll bring him here. What’s his name
for when we call out for him?”

“Johno,” said Louise.

The preppers spread out, stepping backwards the way they
came, as if it was part of their survival-game drill. The prepper with the
annoying sniffing habit, kept his gaze toward the direction of the tents, until
they turned at the tree line, and then disappeared into the woods.

“What do you make of them?” said Tanya. “What oddballs.”

“At least they said they’d search for Johno,” said Louise. “What
should we do now?”

“I think we should do as they say. Pack up and head to town,”
Amy said.

“But what if Johno returns and we’re gone. I’m staying here.
You can all go,” said Louise.

Ted stepped forward. He was pre-occupied, judging by the
expression on his face.

“Amy’s right, we should all go. Did ya see the way that slime
ball looked at Amy and sniffed at her? I wouldn’t trust them to leave you alone
here, Louise. The sooner we get gone, the sooner we can get back here and have
the mountains teaming with townsfolk searching for Johno. In the meantime,
those four preppers looked like seasoned hunters. They’ve a better chance at
finding him than we do. We can leave Johno’s tent here and write him a note to
wait for us to return. No, in fact I’m telling you, that’s what we’re doing,
and we’ll leave all the tents.”

Amy looked at Ted in admiration for taking charge and
considering Louise’s welfare. Ted unstrapped his backpack, took out a bottle of
water and doused the fire.

“Come on, let’s do this, chop, chop,” said Ted.

Amy ran with Louise to her tent, then waited for her to
write the note. Gyp peered out of Amy’s tent, then joined her. They ran back to
the rest of the gang, and then hurried to their vehicles. Amy turned to look at
Ted.

I’ll go with Louise and Gyp in Johno’s pickup,” Amy said.

Ted set a solemn stare.

“I understand. Listen, about last night. It won’t happen
again,” Ted said. “The drinking I mean, not the having fun. Look, I can’t
explain, but trust me, yesterday was a bad day...”

Amy put a finger on his lips.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. Amy reached up and
kissed his cheek.

Ted smiled and strutted to his vehicle. They set off in
convoy, with Amy taking the lead.

Four miles along the road and they were still surrounded by
mountains. Amy glanced at Louise. She had her head in her hands. Amy could see
a vehicle coming towards them in the distance. As it neared, she noticed the
row of lights on top of the SUV pickup that told her it was one of the deputy-sheriff’s
vehicles. Amy switched on her hazards, flashed her headlights, and slowed,
coming to a stop at the side of the road. She recognized Frank’s smile through his
windshield as he pulled up alongside, and then wound down his window.

“You’ve saved me a journey,” he said. “Your dad sent me out
to make sure you were safe. There could be a wild dog on the loose. Did you get
his text message?”

“Yeah, we’ve heard about the dog, but I never got Dad’s
message. Anyway, never mind that. Johno’s gone missing in the woods up near
Breakers Lake. We need a search party. He could be hurt.”

“Whoa there, young lady, slow down. Roll back a bit. How’d
you know about the dog?”

“Some hunters came into our camp saying to watch out for a
feral dog that had been taking their goats. They were hunting for the dog.
They’re out there now looking for Johno, four of them.”

“What did they look like?” Amy described them. “Sounds like
the same four who helped Jim move a stag off the road over at Claymore
yesterday. Listen, your dad’s in LA. Go and see Ed Grimes and ask him to meet
me over at the lake with a search party. I’ll have a scout around. I may be
able to pick up Johno’s tracks.”

“What’s Dad doing in LA?”

“Ed will explain.” Frank scribbled in his notebook, and
tearing off the note, he handed it to Amy. “Here, as soon as you get out of the
pass and you can get a signal, phone my missus. Tell her I’ll be late.”

He wound up his window, then drove on down the road.

“What the hell’s all this about the dog?” Louise asked. “I
hope it’s not attacked Johno. Still, I feel better knowing Frank’s going to
look for him. Dad says he’s a legend when it comes to tracking. God, I hope
Johno’s safe.”

Meeting up with Frank had definitely perked her up, when she
started asking questions. Maybe it was to distract her from her troubled mind.
Amy couldn’t be sure. 

“Do you think Ted’s on the weird side after last night. I
mean, what do you really know about him? All I know is that he moved here a
year ago, and he loves his practical jokes at everyone’s expense. Oh, and
according to Johno, he’s a wiz with computer software.”

“Well, I know more about him that he knows about me, but
that isn’t much. He’s never asked when my birthday is, and he’s never asked why
Mom’s not with us. It’s not something I’m ready for volunteering the info to
him yet, but I thought he’d have asked.”

“What does he do for a living?”

“Research, is all he says, but he says it’s a secret. Says
his parents fund him. I know he lives in his Grandma’s cabin, but I don’t know
her name. I don’t even know his parents’ names, only that he’s from Beverly
Hills, and his mom and Dad are in the film industry, working abroad. He went to
a private high school. Dad knows the one. It must have cost his parents a
fortune, he says. They must be ticked off he didn’t go on to uni.” Amy sighed “It’s
his key that drives me mad.”

“What key?”

“It’s the key to a locked room at his cabin that he keeps on
a chain around his neck.”

SHAW
cracked open his eyes to the sound of hip-hop
music coming from the speakers of the motel alarm. He couldn’t remember the bed
at the motel having a mosquito net when he fell asleep. But then he couldn’t
remember falling asleep, or setting the alarm, and besides, there wasn’t a net.
It was how his surroundings always looked when he first opened his eyes in the
morning. He fumbled with the knobs on the headboard, turning on the bedside
lamps in error, before managing to locate the one that switched off the alarm.
He dropped his head on the pillow, then turned to look at the nightstand for
his wristwatch. Reaching out, he grabbed his watch, knocking over an empty JD
bottle.

Shaw threw the cover to one side, swung his legs over the
side of the bed, and sat. His tongue tasted crap, and his head throbbed. The
room smelled of damp, but then he thought it was cheap and available, and
besides, he had no one to please. Shaw looked at the hands on his watch. It
could have been eight thirty, or twenty to six. His eyes wouldn’t focus. He
rose to his feet, then walked unsteadily over to the window, and peeked through
the curtains. He decided it was eight thirty, judging by the light, and the
heavy traffic on the highway.

He picked up his toiletries from his night bag, dropped his
boxers, and stepping out of them, he headed for the bathroom. After showering
and shaving, he brushed his teeth. The taste of mint made him want to vomit. He
ducked his head under the tap water and rinsed away the paste.

With a clean change of clothes, he headed outside, dropped
the key off at the reception, and headed for the burger van. He stopped to
unlock the van door. Recalling dropping the body off at the morgue, it seemed
like a distant dream as he climbed into his seat. Shaw had things to do, people
to see, places to go, but before he could decide the order of his journey, he
needed coffee. Strong-black coffee. He knew just the place.

Shaw picked up Ventura Boulevard, turning left at Staples on
the corner, and parked up outside the diner. Climbing out of the van, he walked
over to the two converted Union Pacific carriages. He stepped inside and took a
seat at a table. Shaw glanced around. He didn’t recognize any of the staff. There
was no welcome for an old regular. The server approached him, notebook in hand.

“What’ll it be,” she asked.

“A strong coffee, espresso style, but in a mug, and I’ll
have a chili dog.”

“Surprised you don’t make your own,” she said, and looked
out of the window toward his van.

“Oh, that. Long story. It’s not mine. Can you bring the
coffee first, please?”

“Sure, hon,” she said, and hurried off.

Shaw took his cell phone from his pocked and switched it on.
His phone buzzed. Ten missed calls from Jim. He called his number and Jim
answered.

“Where are you, Brett? When are you back? It’s all gone to
crap in a clothes basket up here.”

“Slow down. Start at the beginning.”

“You need to cancel the forensics investigation for a start.
There’s nothing left for him to investigate. The surgery’s burned down.”

Shaw pushed back in his chair.

“What! When did this happen?”

“Around five thirty this morning. The forestry fire
investigator is sending you a report. He says its arson.”

Shaw rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Who was on watch?”

“Frank, but don’t blame him. Whoever did it blindsided him
from the direction of the woods.”

Shaw rested his elbow on the table, and closed his eyes, the
cell phone still to his ear.

“Your coffee,” the woman said.

“Thanks,” he said, opening his eyes, and making a feeble
attempt to return the server’s smile. He picked up his mug and took a sip.

“Did one of you check on Amy?”

“Amy’s back. That’s one of the other problems.”

“Problems! What about Amy?”

“Amy’s fine, she’s with Louise and Tanya upstairs in your apartment.
The problem is Johno. He’s gone missing over at Brakes Lake in the mountains.
Ed Grimes has organized a search party. They’re over there now with Frank. But
that’s not all...”

“Thank God she’s safe. Go on then, what else?”

“It’s the television crews. They’re swarming all over town.
I don’t know what to say to them and they’re lined up outside our office. I‘ve
had to lock the door.”

“Well, you’d expect that. I’m just surprised they got wind
of the vet’s death so quickly. What are they asking?”

“It’s not as much what they’re asking, as what they’re
saying on camera.”

“Like what?”

“I hope you’re ready for this.”

Shaw took a long swig of his coffee.

“Fire away.”

“They’re saying, according to the mayor, a wild animal is on
the loose, and it killed the vet. They say you’ve refused to sanction a hunting
party when the tourist season is in full swing. Then they’re reporting locals
as saying you’ve gone to LA, leaving a rooky deputy to guard the scene of the
vet’s surgery. They’re saying it shows incompetence on your part that the vet’s
house has been destroyed in a fire, along with any clues.”

“Jesus, is that it all?”

“Well, no. There’s more. I saw them interviewing Hogan the
butcher. He was blasting you for not telling him that you were using his
refrigerator in the burger van to transport Maria’s body to the morgue. The
reporter was really banging on about that. Hogan was saying he was consulting
attorneys to sue for a new vehicle. They were also saying that many of the
locals they’ve spoken to have said that they hope the mayor calls for a vote to
get you out.”

“Oh, no, and all that’s on camera?”

“Yup, afraid so. What do you want me to say to them?”

“Tell them I’ll be back around four and I’ll make a
statement. Just say no comment to any other questions. Damn it, someone’s
stirring them and I think I know who it is. Let Amy know what time I’ll be
back.”

“Will do. Incidentally, Brett, it could be a feral dog that
attacked the vet. Amy said she met with some hunters over at the lake. They were
tracking the dog after it had been taking their goats. It sounds like the same
guys who helped to move the stag off of the road.”

“Listen Jim, all this is info overload. I’ll see you around
four o’clock and we’ll talk about it then.”

Shaw put his cell phone on the table, then held his head in
his hands.

“One chili dog as ordered, enjoy,” said the server. She
poured more coffee. “You look troubled. Is everything okay?”

“Bad day at the office as they say.” Shaw pushed the plate
with the chili dog to one side.

He didn’t ask her, but she sat down opposite.

“Lost your appetite?”

“Yeah, and I was looking forward to the chili dog. It’s a
little over six years since I last had one here.”

“What, passing through?”

“No, I used to live and work in LA.”

“Where do you live now?”

“Breakers Pass.”

“I know the town, it’s pretty up there.”

“I guess. I’d prefer it if I was back here.”

“What made you move up there?”

“My wife died, and I needed a slower pace of life to look after
my daughter.”

“Sorry.”

“No need.”

“Married again?”

“No, single.”

“Try drinking your coffee, you never know, your appetite
could return,” she said, and winked. The woman inched off the bench, then
walked away to attend another table.”

The brief exchange had settled his mind from exploding, but
maybe she knew that. Maybe she was working it for her tip. Shaw picked up his
cell phone and dialed homicide headquarters. The receptionist answered.

“Sheriff Brett Shaw. I need to get hold of John Bateman. He
works in crime scene investigation. I need to speak with him urgently.”

“Please hold, sir.” Shaw sipped at his coffee as he waited,
his mind rolling over events back home. “Sorry, sir, he’s not in the office.
I’ve contacted him and given him your number from the one on my screen. He said
he’ll call right back.”

Shaw had no sooner closed the call than his phone rang.”

“Hi, Brett, I was just getting ready to head up to Breakers
Pass.”

“Forget it, there’s nothing to investigate. The surgery has
been destroyed in an arson attack. I’m in LA. Could we meet, only have the
photographs and some other items I need checking. Can you bring a laptop?”

“Sure. Where are you?”

“Over at Ventura. I’m at the chili dog diner next to
Staples.”

“I know the one. Give me twenty minutes.”

Shaw closed the call, picked up his chili dog and took a
bite. He looked over at the server. She was sitting on a stool at the counter,
glancing his way, and gave him a thumbs-up sign. His mind fixed on what Ed
Grimes had said to the reporter. Someone must have alerted the media for them
to arrive so quickly. It could have been Grimes. He knew that Grimes saw him
drive off in Hogan’s burger van to drive to LA. Grimes knew he was transporting
Maria’s body. Why alert them about the wild animal before an autopsy, and his
investigations had proved what happened to cause her death? It would hurt the
town. It would hurt his bar if tourists stayed away. Grimes was diverting
attention from the arson attack... why? If his hunch was right, he knew the
answer. As for the rest, the town could go to hell. He knew his contract called
for three months’ notice of an election. Amy would be settled at university by
then. He could move on. He needed to move on.

A car drove into a parking space next to the burger van.
Bateman appeared. His hair was grayer. He’d gained a beer belly. Shaw greeted
him at the table and shook his hand.

“Sounds like you’re having fun up there,” said Bateman.

“You could say that. Coffee?”

“Yeah.” He opened his bag and put the laptop on the table.

Shaw signaled his server, ordered the coffee, then went to
the van for his case. He returned, and handed Bateman a plastic bag.

“The vet’s nightdress. They removed it at the morgue.”

“Good, I’ll check it out. What else have you got?”

Shaw took a seat next to him. He unfastened his case and
took out his camera, and a download lead. Bateman connected it to his laptop.
Shaw looked around; making sure no one would see the screen. Bateman shuffled
through the images, then closed the lid on his computer.

“What are your thoughts,” Shaw asked.

“Whatever, or whoever it was, they’ve done a number on her.
Looking at the images as a whole, I’d say it was some kind of animal. But it
doesn’t add up. Wild animals kill for food usually, or when guarding territory.
For dog attacks, I usually see numerous bite marks on the body. This one’s just
gone for the pleasure of the kill. The bare footprints show that someone was at
the scene. It’s no good speculating, we need to see what the autopsy shows.”

“What about the tracks? I have a tracker who says they
belong to a dog?”

“Looking at the measurements, it’s one hell of a size if it
is a dog. I could send the images to the FBI. They’ll have a database. Maybe
they can identify the breed. You know what the injuries remind me of?”

“The Bullmastiff!” Shaw replied.

“You noticed then. At least it’s not my imagination. A wolf
has a bite pressure of fourteen-hundred pounds, but even a wolf would have
difficulty mashing the vertebrae like that.”

“Whatever happened to the investigation on those missing
girls? After I resigned and moved to Breakers Pass, any phone calls I made, the
department stonewalled me.”

“Not a clue. The FBI took the file and deleted my computer
record. All the DNA tests were diverted, so I never got the results. You know
how it is. Another day, another case.”

“Anyway thanks, John. I need to be going. If you can send me
the report when you’re done, I’ll take it from there.” Shaw signaled the server
for the check. “Wait, there is something else. I have a letter here somewhere I
need it checking for prints.” Shaw fished in his case and handed him the
application letter Grimes had given him.

“Sure. Same case?”

“Yeah, a possible suspect, or at least the prints could have
placed someone the scene if I could have also matched them with the footprints.
But the fire has foiled any chance of that. Still, better to have them than
not.”

Bateman shook his hand, picked up his laptop, and then set
off to his car.

“Your check,” said the server, then she walked away.

Shaw paid the bill and left a tip, tearing off his receipt.
He made his way to the van and put the receipt on the dash. He picked it back up.
Scrawled on the back in Biro was a phone number, and the words. ‘Call me
sometime when you get back your appetite. Angie’. He curled a smile. He’d
forgotten how forward they were in LA. Her words about getting his appetite
back and the wink had gone over his head at the time.

Shaw headed for the outskirts of Beverly Hills to his next
call. After that, all he had to do was to call at the cemetery, and then on, to
notify Maria’s family on his way home. He pulled over, and parked out of sight
of the security guards’ barrier at Ted’s old private high school. He wasn’t
sure if they’d give him the information he was looking for. He wasn’t sure if
he should be asking, but he only had one daughter. Shaw knocked on the window.
A young guard appeared.

“Hi, I was wondering if you had anyone in admin today?”

“Sorry, no. During the vacation, there’s someone in on
Mondays. What is it you want?”

Shaw pulled out his ID and held it at the window.

“I’m wanting some background on a student who attended here
back in two thousand and eleven, during his graduation year.”

“Maybe I can help, Sheriff. What’s the name? My database
goes back five years”

“Ted Carter, could be Edward.”

“Listen, this is official, right? Do you have any other ID?”

“Yeah, it’s official,” he lied. “Here, my driving license.”