The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (22 page)

JIM
walked into the corridor, waving a sheaf of papers.
Shaw thought that Frank’s suggestion of letting his prisoner go free was crazy.

Here’s your search warrant,” said Jim. “I’ve just spoken to
the wildlife and fisheries people on the phone. Rigby’s son’s taken flight, but
they got the mountain lion. They want us to arrest him if he comes our way, but
first they want you to talk to the county sheriff. Oh, and we’ve had a call
from over at the water plant. Someone’s cut the chain on the entrance gate.”

Shaw settled on his chair. His head thumped.

“You phone the county sheriff, Jim. I’m not feeling too
good. Anything stolen from the water plant?”

“No.”

“We can forget that then until you next pass by.”

Frank was already at his desk and on the phone. Gyp rested his
chin on Shaw’s leg, and whined. He patted the dog’s head.

“I know, Gyp. We’ll get her back.”

Somehow, connecting with Gyp gave him some comfort. His
thoughts turned to Frank’s suggestion. Even if his prisoner weren’t involved in
Amy’s kidnap, turning him over to the FBI would get Amy out of his clutches
when she returned.

“He’s telling the truth about his dog,” Frank said, as he
placed the handset down.

“It doesn’t prove that he doesn’t know where Amy is, and his
sob story could be bull, even if he is Gail Harvey’s brother.”

County sheriff wants to speak with you direct. He’s
insisting,” Jim said.

“Grrr.” Shaw picked up the extension. “Speaking.”

“I have some information on Rigby’s son.”

“Sorry, listen, I’m going to have to take the next few days
off, maybe longer. I was going to phone you. Can you give the information to
Jim? My daughter’s been kidnapped in LA. I’m just waiting for the FBI to
arrive. I’ll need to cancel the medical.”

The line went silent.

“I know, because I’ve just come off of the phone with Logan.
You may want to hear this.”

Shaw pushed his back into the chair, then rested his boots
on the desk.”

“Fire away.”

“We got the statement from Rigby, and there’s no way he
could move the lion on his own. He’s refusing to give up his accomplice. The W
and F agent spoke to his neighbor, and he told her that Rigby left to go
hunting with his son. When they returned in the morning, shortly after, his son
left with his suitcase. He overheard him say he was going to LA and he looked
agitated.”

Shaw’s mind buzzed at the revelation.

“Yeah, we’d already thought that he could be involved.”

“Jess Rigby’s got form. We found that out when we put out an
APB. All the offences are from LA a few years back when he ran with a gang.
Mostly violence and extortion, but the gang’s believed to have been involved
with some kidnappings.”

“Johno and Amy?”

“Great minds think alike. That’s what Logan said when I
spoke to him.”

“I get the picture,” said Shaw. “Damn it, if Johno witnessed
them shoot the lion, he could have chased him and thrown him off the cliff.
That would give him motive to go for him at the hospital when he heard he was
alive.”

“That’s what Logan said. He’s thinking he could have used
his gang connections for the hit at the hospital.”

Shaw pulled his feet off of the table.

“Damn it, he could have recognized Amy at the hospital and
mistakenly thought she was Johno’s girlfriend. He could have thought Johno
would tell her what had happened?”

His thoughts spun to the point of light-headedness.

“What’s Logan doing?”

“He’s putting every specialist gang team on it as a
priority. In the meantime, I’ve just come off of the phone with the county
health department. I’m sending over some deputies to help keep order at the
medical center. The situation is escalating over there, and I guessed you’d
have to take leave.

“Thanks for that.”

“Grimes is not going to be happy?”

“Puh... What, with the medical?”

“Well, there is that, but no, Jess worked for him as a
driver in LA. Grimes owns a schools’ supply business down there. Listen, stay
calm, Logan has the entire force searching for Amy, with the weight of the FBI
behind him. Anyways, I’ll speak to you later, just keep yourself together.
They’ll find her for sure.”

“Yeah, okay.”

The line went dead and he replaced the handset. He rubbed
his temple with the ball of his palm. He snatched the phone from its cradle and
dialed LA homicide.

“Can I speak to Logan? Sheriff Brett Shaw, it’s urgent.”

“Sorry, he’s not available, but he’s left a message for you.
He said if you called, to say that he’s in meetings the rest of the day with
the FBI and the heads of the gang units, and he’ll get back to you with any
developments.”

His eyes rose to the ceiling.

“Damn, okay.” He closed the call, dropping the handset on
the cradle a little on the heavy side.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” said Frank, “but I’ve
just come off of the phone with your forensic guy.”

Shaw sighed.

“No, best I hear what he has to say.”

“The coroner sent over Maria’s prints and they’re the same
as on the letter. The other prints on the letter match Grimes’ prints from the
records of an old misdemeanor. But, he’s sorry, the prints on the metal pipe
don’t match Grimes’, and there’s no match in the database. He’s done a spectral
analysis from dust particles on her nightdress and it’s showing nothing
remarkable, except for minute traces of silver. I’m guessing that makes what
the preppers said was true about the dog.”

Shaw heard the words, but the interest wasn’t there. He knew
that he shouldn’t be there. The new development had caught him unawares and
knocked him sideways.

Frank continued. “He also said that he’s standing by for you
to send anything that could confirm Amy’s DNA, and to say he’s sorry about her
going missing. He reckons it could take two weeks to get a result.”

Shaw rubbed his eyes. He was losing control. He’d forgotten
all about the DNA samples. Opening his desk drawer, he located his old tin box.
He set the box on the desk, removed the lid, and took out Amy’s birthday cards,
setting them to one side.

“Frank, go and get me two DNA kits from the storeroom.”

He rummaged in the box and pulled out some clear plastic
snap-fastener bags. He held up a bag and studied one of Amy’s baby teeth. An
image floated through his mind of him creeping into her bedroom to exchange a
tooth for a commemorative silver coin and slipping it under her pillow. The
need to hide his emotion was lost on him as a tear rolled down his cheek.

Delving into the box, he pulled out another bag with the
strands of his wife’s hair he’d taken from her hairbrush that he had rolled
into a lock. He placed the lock of hair to one side with two of the teeth and
put the rest back into the box, stowing it back in his drawer.

“Here, I’ve poured you another black coffee,” said Frank. He
set the cup down together with the DNA sample kits.

Shaw opened each bottle in turn, tickling the inside of his
cheek with the swabs, then placed them in the bottles. He picked up his coffee
cup and took a long swig.

“Looks like I held your gun to the wrong man’s head,” Shaw
said.

“I gathered that from with snippets I heard of the
conversation,” said Frank. “So why don’t you let our prisoner loose? It could
save us all a lot of trouble if the Feds take up what he may have to say about
his arrest and treatment. I’d have done exactly what he’d done, and so would
you if it was your family.”

Shaw shook his head. He thought that he should hand him over
and to be done with him in his and Amy’s life. However, Frank was right. It’s
what he would have done under the circumstances if he known how to hack into
computers.

“I’m not sure. We screwed up with Rigby. I need to talk with
him some more. What if we’re missing something? He could still be involved.”

“All I know is that putting Jess in the frame puts paid to
my idea we could have a supernatural creature on the loose,” said Frank.”

“Don’t tell me you think Rigby’s story had some cred? You’ll
be telling me you believe in Bigfoot next. More than likely Jess could have
been in his tent near to where Johno was found. Maybe his dad saw Johno witness
him shoot the lion and called for his son. If he was in a sleeping bag, it
would account for the barefoot tracks.”

Frank shrugged. Jim stepped forward.

“Listen, getting back to our prisoner, why not let him go
like Frank says and keep him under surveillance twenty-four seven,” said Jim.

“How the hell do we do that with only you two? I’m so
screwed up, I may as well be on another planet for all the good I’d be,” Shaw
said.

Shaw noticed Frank and Jim exchange glances.

“What about the boys, Frank? What d’ya think?” Jim said

Frank leaned back in his chair, clasped the fingers of both
hands on his head and used them to wiggle his brow. He sucked air through his
teeth, unclasped his hands and slapped them on his desk.

“I suppose. I mean, yeah, we have enough on him not to
snitch on us. Especially if we cut the prisoner loose.”

“Who do you mean by ‘him’?” Shaw asked.

“You,” Jim said.

“Me? What’s all this about ‘the boys’?”

“Well, see, they’re not exactly boys, more of what you could
call your unofficial, deputy militia,” Frank said.

“Militia?”

“Yeah, we formed the militia after Nam. To start with, it
was just to support each other. Then when we all realized we had the same notions
about the government, so we transformed into a sort of defense militia. We were
damn sure they were losing the plot with the commies, and no one would give a
rat’s ass about this neck of the woods if we were invaded. Later it just turned
into a drinking club once a month at my barn.”

“How come you’re involved, Jim? You’re too young for
Vietnam.”

Jim shrugged his shoulders. “Ask our commander.” Jim looked
over at Frank.

“Uh, commander?”

“Yeah.” Frank’s cheeks blushed. “The Iraq war sort of gave
us some new blood with the likes of Jim here,” Frank said. “In the early days
we had the Feds sniffing around, so no love lost there.”

He’d never looked at Jim’s personnel record. Studying Jim,
he didn’t have him marked down as ex-army. Jim was already working there when
he arrived at Breakers Pass. Shaw wondered what other secrets he was oblivious
to that the town kept from him. He couldn’t think straight. The situation with
Amy was as if he were a passenger on a doomed airplane, the cockpit cabin door
locked, and with the pilots and Lady Luck deciding his and Amy’s fate. His only
interest in the prisoner was if he had information that could help him locate
Amy. As interesting as the information was on the missing girls, now it wasn’t
a priority. But when Amy was back, the case of the missing girls was something
he’d like to get his teeth into. Thinking about his prisoner’s hacking skills
handed a him a plan.

“So let’s get this right, you’re saying that your militia
have what it takes to keep him under surveillance, to follow and track him if
needs be, and without being caught out?”

“Trust me,” said Frank. “You could walk past within an inch
of any of them and you wouldn’t know they were there.”

“Pity you didn’t use your buddies to guards the vet’s
property,” Shaw said, and set Frank a stare.

“You’re not the only one,” said Frank, his cheeks reddening,
and he lowered his head. “Look, they’ve done this sort of thing when their
lives depended on no one discovering their position. Besides they’ll have use
of all their gizmos.”

“Gizmos?”

“You know the sort of stuff, coms, night binoculars, motion
sensors, heat-detection scopes and the like,” Frank said.

“Yeah, and if he is fooling us, and he’s involved in her
abduction, he could lead us to her,” Jim said.

“Okay, okay, I’ll give him a test and if he passes muster,
I’ll pass him to your custody for house arrest at his cabin. But after that,
I’m out of here until Amy is returned safe and sound.

“What sort of a test?” Jim asked.

WITH
her head slightly tilted, the first thing Amy
noticed was her body shaking. Not from fear, but as if she was being wheeled
across cobbles on a gurney. The clear blue sky turned to artificial light as
they entered a corridor, and a door closed behind her. The shaking stopped, but
the forward momentum continued to the rhythm of footsteps clip-clopping behind
her head. Annoyed at waking from her dream, she hoped for it to continue from
where she had left off. She screwed her eyes closed and searched her mind for
remnants of the bliss that she had experienced. A cascade of symbols in rows
had slowed to a halt, like the reels of a coin machine matching up a winning
line. Then she was a princess sat on a throne; that much she could remember.
Her eyes opened to a metallic clunk, followed by the screech of metal on metal.
The dream was past recall. Beyond her feet, she could see the diamond-lattice
work of a sliding gate, drawn to a close by someone with their back to her.
They wore a surgical cap and gown.

She needed to get their attention. The words formed in her
mind, but stuck firmly in her throat. Amy couldn’t recall an accident. Her head
lurched at movement. They had to be in an elevator. A light flashed
intermittently behind a frosted-plastic sheet above her head. Cold air rushed
over her face. Creaks and groans of the movement followed their journey. Her
head gently bounced as they came to a halt. A clunk, and the gate slid open.
She tried to lift her arm, but it didn’t respond, remaining limp by her side.
They were moving now. The ceiling was white, with dark pipes and cables to one
side at the top of the corridor. The ride was smooth, with the bright light
from fluorescents flashing by and stinging her moist eyes. The air was warm to
her cheeks in the corridor, with a dank musty smell swirling around her
nostrils. 

Isolation shrouded her thoughts.
Where’s Dad, Ted,
Louise, anyone? Please help me.
Tears blurred her vision, without a whimper
escaping her lips
. Oh, my, God.
Am I paralyzed from the neck down?
A flashback of an image appeared, with her looking around at the passengers on
a bus. She wanted to scream, move a finger, anything to gain her escort’s
attention.

They came to a halt. A door opened and they were moving
again. She moved a short distance, when all above her spun, until she came to a
halt under a circular bright light. She closed her eyes, but the image of the
light in a negative glow stayed with her.

“Remove her clothes,” A woman’s voice called out, “and pass
me her purse here.”

She opened her eyes and squinted. Someone tilted the lamp
away from her. Two figures appeared either side of her, wearing green surgical
clothing and masks. She fought desperately with her inner self to try and sit
up, wanting to remove her own clothes. Her skin tingled. They grabbed her by
the arms and maneuvered her to a sitting position. Relief washed over her as
she felt their grip, but still the words of protest wouldn’t surface. They
removed her T-shirt and then her bra.

A woman, wearing white surgical clothing, took her purse
from one of the medics and emptied it out on a bench surface. Her fingers
picked through the objects. She held up an empty pack of contraceptive pills
and discarded it in a wastebasket. She picked up a second full pack, noted
something on a notepad and the pills followed the empty packet into the
wastebasket. One of the medics raised the back of her gurney, leaving her in a
sitting position. A medic proceeded to tug at her jeans, unzipping them, while
the other medic removed each sneaker in turn, and then her jeans. The woman
moved a pack of tampons to one side on the bench, swiping the rest of the
contents of Amy’s purse into the wastebasket, then walked over to her side and
peered at her over her surgical mask.

“Can you speak yet?”

What she wanted to ask was why the hell she had thrown away
her keys and other personal effects in the wastebasket, together with what was
she doing there. All she could manage was a croak.

A final indignity, and one of the medics removed her
knickers. The woman took her wrist with one hand and looked at a watch pinned
to her gown.

“Pulse is slow, but she’ll be fine,” The woman said.

She reached out, and pulled at Amy’s skin around her eyes,
shining a pencil light in each one in turn, and then took hold of Amy’s hand.

“If you can you feel this, blink your eyes.”

Amy felt a slight tweak on her upper arm. She blinked.

“Good. Now tell me, when did you start menstruating? Friday?
... Saturday?”

Amy responded with a blink at Saturday, aware that she had
squeezed the woman’s fingers at the same time.

“Wire her up and then put a gown on her,” the woman said,
and stepped back.

Powerless to respond, she watched as one of the medics
connected probes to her chest, while the other attached an intravenous drip to
her arm. Questions rolled around in her mind. Amy inspected what she could see
of her body, down to her toes, but there wasn’t any sign of injuries. Her head
turned to look at a monitor, now beeping steadily as evenly as a metronome. One
of them draped a gown over her, cloaking her vulnerable embarrassment. The
medics handled her, tying the fasteners at her back, and then set her to rest.
When she looked ahead, one of the medics wheeled a cart, with leg stirrups
either side that fit snugly to the gurney.

She heard whispered tones.

“We’ll need blood samples, and to catheterize her for a
urine sample.”

A medic lifted one of Amy’s legs onto a stirrup. Her eyes
rolled to the instruments and the catheter tube set out on the stirrup cart. A
surge of energy rushed through her body. She writhed, but her arms wouldn’t
move to support her. The woman and the other medic rushed over, pinning her to
the gurney, while the other strapped her body and then her legs to the
stirrups.

“W… Why am I here?” She sucked in a faltering breath. “W…Where
am I?”

The woman didn’t answer. Instead she sat on a stool at the
bottom of the gurney. She reached out and pulled the large circular lamp toward
her. Amy felt the tug of her tampon, and then cold steel enter and stretch her
vagina. Amy thrashed at the unannounced intrusion.

“Stop… What are you doing?”

“Hold her still,” said the woman.

“She’s too lively,” said a medic, with the voice of a
younger woman. “It’s wearing off.”

The woman stood, and picked up a syringe from the cart.

“Hold her arm still.”

She held the syringe aloft, then pressed the plunger to
remove an air bubble. Amy’s eyes widened, when her memory of the abduction came
flooding back. The woman’s dark eyes fixed on Amy and narrowed.

The shuffling of feet behind her, from a fourth person in the
room, stepped to the side of Amy. She turned her head, saw his profile and her
jaw dropped.

“Do you think she knows? Do you think she’s the one?” he
said.

He turned to look directly at Amy. A piercing scream escaped
her lips, filling the room.