by Owen Parr
“Very possible, yes sir,” Lucy replied.
I asked, “Have you noticed any activities on your credit cards that are not yours? Or, anything else out of the ordinary?”
The Gruntel’s looked at each other then, back at me. Peter replied, “No, we haven’t.”
Lucy asked, “Do you own a white SUV?”
Mrs. Gruntel replied, “No, just our two cars outside.”
“How about other property. Do you own any other homes?”
Mrs. Gruntel replied, “No, this is our only home.”
Putting his hand on her knee, he said, “Well yes. We inherited a cabin from my mother last year.”
I jumped at the answer, “Where sir?”
“About an hour from here, in Wawayanda State Park. Well, not in the park itself, but, bordering the park by Wawayanda Mountain and the Appalachian Trail.”
Both Lucy and I looked at each other, and our eyes opened wide at the same time.
“That’s it!” I said.
Mr. Gruntel moved up in his chair, “The Park is only opened from Memorial Day through October 31st. Everything is closed up there now. We only go in the summer months.”
“Can you give me an address, sir?” I asked.
“Not really, I can draw you a map. The cabin is secluded in the woods,” Peter replied.
I frowned, as my phone rang. The ID caller showed Agnes photo. “Excuse me a second,” I said, getting up and walking a few feet away. “Yes Agnes, what’d you got?”
Agnes was very agitated, “Joey, I found a white SUV rented by a Peter Gruntel, the day before Marcy was abducted, at Enterprise Rent a Car, in Paramus, New Jersey. How are you doing there?”
I ignored her question, walking into the kitchen and away from the Gruntel’s, I said, “See if the car is equipped with GPS. If so, find out where it is now.” I thought for a second, “Wait, they’re not going to give you that information. Maybe Lucy should call.”
“Sweetie, I’m already using Lucy’s creds. Otherwise, I would not have gotten any information. I’ll get you the location and text you in a moment. Hang in there.”
I smiled. That’s my Agnes, I said to myself. I walked back to the living room, as Angela and Mr. Pat were coming down from the upstairs bedroom. I looked at them.
“All clear,” Angela said, as she and Mr. Pat, joined everyone else in the living room.
“Lucy, can I talk to you in the kitchen for a moment?”
Lucy looked at the couple an asked, “Would you excuse us for another second?”
The Gruntel’s nodded, looked at each other, and remained quiet.
As we entered the kitchen, I said, “Agnes found the SUV rented under the name of Gruntel.”
“Do you think these two are involved?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t know. It was rented right here in Paramus.”
“Shit, what a coincidence,” she said.
“That, or Belford is pointing the finger at this guy to throw us off.”
“What do you want to do?”
“You and Angela stay here with these folks. Question them separately. Who knows, they may be involved. I’ll drive to the cabin with Mr. Pat. We’ll check it out and call you back.”
“Honey, I don’t want you going up there without backup. Besides, this Belford, has to be armed. I can call the New Jersey State Police.”
“No, no, I don’t want a posse showing up. Marcy could be there. We’ll be fine. Then again, they may not be there at all.” As I said that, my phone chirp. I took a quick look, Agnes had texted me the location of the SUV. I noticed Lucy looking at me, but she said nothing.
Lucy said, “Okay, get the map from Mr. Gruntel, and let me give you my second weapon, I have in the car.”
I didn’t share with Lucy that we had located the SUV. “The map, yes, I’ll take that. But, I don’t need your weapon, thanks.”
“Joey, you can’t go up there unarmed.”
“I just said, I didn’t need your weapon. I didn’t say we were unarmed.”
“Baby, be careful, and bring Marcy back,” she said, as she kissed me on the cheek.
We walked back to the living room. Mr. Gruntel had drawn a map of the location of his cabin.
“Tell me about your cabin, sir,” I said, as Peter handed me the handmade map.
“One room cabin. It’s like a studio apartment. But, it has everything we need.”
“Happy to hear that. Where does it face, north, south, where?” I asked, hurriedly.
“Faces east. We have some beautiful sun rises through the forest. You should see the sun rays break through the trees, —”
I needed to interrupt, fuck; I’m not buying the cabin. “Mr. Gruntel, I don’t need a picture, just specifics. Tell me more about this map.”
The Professor gave me the layout of the cabin and the surrounding area. He mentioned a mailbox that had a wooden eagle on top of it. That’s where we turn into the dirt road to reach the cabin, he said.
I walked close to Patrick, “You have the backpack?”
“In my SUV, lad.”
I whispered in his ear, “Let’s go get Marcy.”
26
Patrick and I got in his SUV. “What’s in the backpack?” I asked.
As he drove out of the Gruntel’s driveway, Patrick turned to me, and replied, “Same as always; two Colt’s forty-five, and two Remington’s 870 shotguns.”
“Enough ammo?”
Looking forward, and smiling, he replied, “Plenty to save the Alamo, this time.”
“Good.”
“We’re we headed?” Patrick asked.
“Do you have a navigation system in this car?”
“Of course, lad. Open the glove compartment and take out the folded map. This is an old bucket. I do it the old fashion way.”
“Got it. I have an App for that; it’s called Waze. I’ll set it up.”
“Of course, you do.”
My App was on, but we didn’t have a specific address to plug in, so I said, “North and west, to Wawayanda State Park. We’ll follow these coordinates that Agnes sent,” I said, showing him my phone. “That’s where the SUV Belford rented is. Take State Road 17, south, to the 288, then, head northwest. We’re about forty-five minutes away.”
Patrick glanced at me, “Some of those roads may not be opened this time of year, as we get closer to the Park.”
“You have four-wheel drive, don’t you?” I asked, glancing back at Mr. Pat.
“Sure do. What’s the plan?”
“At the moment, my only plan is to get Marcy. I’ll make up the rest as we get there.”
Patrick smiled, “Works for me.”
We had been on the road for one hour, and we still had about twenty miles to go. I was anxious. Agnes kept us posted from the pub. She was able to see the GPS on her computer. We were not. I looked at my watch, thirty-five hours, it read. Marcy had been with this killer for thirty-five hours. My God, what could she be thinking, I thought.
It was very dark; the moon was out with a clear sky, and if I had time to look, the sky was coated with a million stars. At least we had the advantage of surprise. “Fuck, there. There’s the eagle!” I said as Patrick drove past it.
“You want to go up the dirt road?” Mr. Pat asked, coming to a full stop.
“No, no. Let me see if Google maps work here. If so, we can get a layout of the area,” I said, as I tried to connect to the internet. “I have no fucking service. See if you do.”
“Nothing Joey. No bars, nada. How far did Gruntel say the cabin was from the road?”
“About two miles. Keep veering right on any forks, he said.”
“I think we can drive up a mile, or more. I won’t turn on the lights.”
“Okay, let’s do that. Also, let me disconnect the interior light,” I said, as I ripped the bulb from the socket inside the car.”
“Easy boss,” Mr. Pat said, looking at the light.
Patrick drove slowly, as we both sat forward on our seats, making s
ure we stayed on the dirt road.
“Joey, we’ve gone a little over a mile.”
“Okay, stop here, we’ll walk the rest of the way.”
“Let me drive the car off-road, and hide it somewhat.”
“Fuck that. I want you to block the road. Find a spot where no one can drive around the car. Then, block the road. There! On the turn.”
We got out of the SUV. Holstered our Colts, with shotguns in hand, began a double-step towards where the cabin was supposed to be.
Walking up an incline after a few minutes, I saw a small shimmer of light. “You see it, Pat?”
“You think that’s the cabin?” he asked.
“It has to be. This place is deserted. I’ll take the north side. You take the south. The front door is facing east, according to Gruntel. Let’s make sure the white SUV is there.”
“Got it. Joey, take a minute and mute your phone. I just did mine.”
“Good point. If the car is there, I want to get close to the cabin and see if we can hear, or see something. We can’t go blasting our way in.”
“Roger that.”
We walked another hundred yards through the brush and the forest. There was about an inch of fresh snow on the ground. I have always enjoyed hearing the crunching of the snow as you walked on it. Except, tonight I was unaware of it. The interior light was just barely visible through a small crack of what had to be window curtains.
“Stop!” Patrick whispered. “Is that Belford?”
I squinted my eyes to focus, “Shit yes. What’s he doing? Loading his SUV?”
“Sure, looks that way. Is he carrying?” Mr. Pat asked.
“I can’t tell from here. But, this would be a good moment to blow his ass away, isn’t?”
“Yes, but, we’re too far away,” Patrick just said.
“Let’s move in, see if we can isolate him. Before, he goes back inside.”
As we moved in, Mr. Pat stepped on a dry branch, breaking it. The sound, in the quiet of the forest, was like a plane had just crashed a few feet away. We both knelt down keeping our eyes on Tony Belford.
Belford stopped moving, put his hand on what we could now see was his pistol, and slowly did a clockwise three-hundred and sixty-degree turn, pivoting on his right leg. Seeing nothing, we hoped, he threw a duffle bag in the car and went back inside the cabin.
“Shit, we missed him,” I said, whispering.
“Sorry about that Joey,” Patrick said, apologetically.
“Let’s go back to plan A; you go to the south side of the entrance, I’ll come in from the north side. If he’s leaving, he should be coming out with Marcy any moment.”
“Roger.”
We moved from both sides, towards the front of the cabin. We waited. Sticking my head out partially I could see the door of the cabin opening out, a few seconds later, a partial figure of a female emerged. It was Marcy. The light on the porch was turned off. Here was my chance, it Marcy walked out, followed by Belford we had him.
Marcy appeared very erect. Her head was almost immobile, she was treading very carefully, as she stepped out unto the small front porch. It was dark, the porch’s roof covered the area were Marcy was standing still. And then I saw it. Almost entirely covered by Marcy’s long hair, was the barrel of a rifle, a shotgun to be precise, that extended back into the cabin. Fuck! I said to myself. Belford was still in the cabin, for sure holding the other end of the shotgun.
“Joey, Joey, come out, wherever you are,” said a voice, from inside the cabin.
How did, he know we were here? I asked myself.
Marcy was looking straight ahead. She stood there like a mannequin. I now saw her hands cuffed in front of her, and connected to a pair of leg cuffs.
The voice said, “Joey, I’m coming out now. Show yourself. Oh, and please, note that Marcy’s head and the end of the barrel are tied together. Any stupid moves on your part, well, we both loose Marcy.”
Always a step ahead this asshole is. I thought. Marcy’s head moved forward, then, she took a step forward herself, seemingly being pushed from behind by the barrel on her head. Belford was now in full view. His right hand looked as if it was also tied to the shotgun. His index fingered bordered the trigger.
“Belford,” I said, stepping out of the dark, “let Marcy go, and you can walk out of here. Simple trade Belford. Marcy stays, you go.”
Belford glanced to his left and looking down from the porch, our eyes met. He smiled. “I wish it was that simple, Mancuso. You and your little makeshift team of investigators brought this on yourselves.”
Marcy shouted, “Whistler, Bri, —” Her head jerked forward, as Belford pushed the barrel into her head, with a sudden move.
I froze. What was she trying to tell us? I asked myself.
“You, stupid little girl, shut up!” Belford said, loudly. “Who else is with you, Joey?” he asked, without looking at me.
“I’m alone, Belford. Now listen, —”
“Sure, you are,” he said, interrupting me. “Is your brother the priest with you? If so, he can perform the ceremony here. We have everyone we need; the bride and groom, the witness, and the priest. Then, Marcy and I can be on our way, to our honeymoon.”
“You’re a sick bastard Belford,” I said, holding my Colt pointed down, and moving towards the front steps of the porch. “You can’t get away with this. Think about it, walk away now, leave Marcy behind, and just go.”
“Mancuso, don’t take another step. Toss that gun away into the woods. Do what’s best for Marcy. I have nothing to lose. You on the other hand,” he paused, and shouted, “throw your gun away, I’m warning you!”
“Okay, okay, calm down. Here,” I said, holding the gun up by my fingertips, “I’m throwing the gun away.” I tossed the gun into the woods.
“Now,” Belford said, “whoever else is with you, better show themselves. Oh, and Mancuso, that other weapon strapped to your back, toss it away.”
I did as he asked. He was holding all the cards, and he was right, he had nothing to lose. “Mr. Pat, come out and throw your gun out.”
Belford swiveled his head one-hundred-eighty degree looking for Patrick.
Fearful that Patrick’s move could scare Belford into pulling the trigger, I said, “Mr. Pat is on your right, and he’s coming out slowly, unarmed.”
Belford glance to his right, and down below the porch, as Mr. Pat showed himself. “Ah, the bartender. Did you bring your shaker?” he asked, mockingly.
I could see Patrick holding his anger in check.
“Drop both your weapons Mr. Bartender. Now!” Belford shouted.
“Easy lad, I’m dropping both of them now,” said Patrick raising both his hands.
Belford order, “Both of you, move to the front, where I can see you.”
Patrick and I converged in front of the cabin, about ten feet from the steps of the porch. The scent hit me. The smell of the cologne I had picked up at the murder scenes, was very prevalent.
Belford asked, “Anyone else with you, Mancuso?”
“No one else. Just the two of us,” I replied.
“Good, good. Now, boys, I know it’s cold, but, I want you to strip all the way down to your underwear’s,” he said, laughing, “I mean, I hope you’re wearing underwear. Oh and, take off your shoes also.”
We did as he asked.
“Then, Mr. Bartender, take all the clothes and throw them in my SUV’s back seat. But, before you do that, where’s the key to your car?”
“In my pocket,” Patrick replied.
“Which pocket, Mr. Bartender?”
“The right pocket of my pants,” Mr. Pat, responded.
“Very well. Joey, very slowly, reach into his right pocket, with your left hand, and retrieved the keys for me. Once you do that, slowly walk over to my car, and place them on the roof of my car, just above the driver’s seat. Can you do that, Mancuso?”
We again did as he asked. I placed the keys as he requested on the roof of his car, and Patrick coll
ected our clothes and threw them in the back seat.
“Well done, boys, well done. Now, I want you to move back, and to my right, there,” he said, pointing to a spot with his left hand, “by the fire pit. Lay face down with your hands behind your heads.”
As we walked towards the fire pit, Patrick said, in a low voice, “Joey, if he picks up any speed coming out of here, he’s going to crash with my SUV, as he makes the turn.”
“Shit, you’re right,” I said.
“No talking boys. Just lay face down on the ground, and Marcy and I will be on our way.”
“Wait, Belford,” I said.
“What now, Mancuso?”
“Our car is about a mile up the dirt road,” I paused, thinking if I should tell him.
“So, what?” Belford asked.
I decided to tell him. “It’s right before the first sharp left turn. It’s blocking the road, and you’ll crash into it.”
Belford smiled, “Well that’s very thoughtful of you, Joey,” he said, as he pushed Marcy forward, and began coming down the steps from the cabin’s porch.
“Tony, there’s still time to end this,” I said, from my position.
“Mancuso, we’re beyond that. I do have a question for you, though,” he paused, “how did you find us?”
As little as it meant at the moment, I did want to find out if he had help in this abduction, or in his whole serial killing routine. “Your partner told us.”
“My partner?” he asked, surprised. “I don’t have a partner”, he laughed, as he said that.
I raised my head, and looked at him, “Professor Peter Gruntel, your partner.”
“That little shithead is not my partner. You thought I had a partner? He was just a convenient asshole whose identity I used. Oh, by the way, he’s quite the porn enthusiast. You should look at the websites he frequents.”
“I’m sure you both have a lot in common then,” I said, trying to look at Marcy.
Marcy glanced at me. Her eyes were filled with fear.
Belford ignored my comment. “Here’s what’s going to happen; Marcy and I are going to get in my car, and drive away into the sunrise. I could kill you both, but, I want you alive, to ponder on the beautiful life Marcy and I are going to have together. The children we’ll have.”
