Smoke Stack

by Andrew Gruse

  “What do we do now?”

  Julie looked at Molly and knew what Molly thought: it was intentional.

  “We sit tight right here,” Julie said. She lifted the gun. “If anyone wants us, they’ll have to negotiate this. In the meantime, call the police.”

  * * * *

  The familiar official police Tahoe, driven by Sheriff Orbison, stopped at the edge of the driveway, unable to enter due to the large portion of a tree that blocked it. Sheriff Orbison stepped out of the car, examined the tree, and rushed to the front porch.

  He knocked on the door, and it opened quickly. Two females, each scared, stood on the other side. Molly held her arms tight across her chest while Julie kept her right hand behind her back.

  “Ladies, are you Ok?” Orb asked.

  “We’re fine,” Molly said.

  “Where’s Stack?” Orb asked.

  “I think he went into the Miller woods,” Julie said. “He’s been gone since five-thirty.”

  “I told him to not go in there,” Orb said. He scratched his chin. “Why would he go in there at night?”

  “Orb, you need to find him,” Julie said. “You need to trust me on this. You need to find him.”

  * * * *

  In the middle of town, along a stretch of bigger, more beautiful homes, a large three-story Victorian sat dark. Only a sidelight above an entry along the long driveway was lit. But behind it, in the blackness of the night, activity bustled.

  New developments. Alterations were necessary. Boundaries were stretched, and what once was supposed to be simple suddenly was complicated. And the outsiders seemed to be at the root of it.

  The seven men collected very late that night, under cover of darkness amidst a quiet, asleep town, each arrived from a different route. One by one, they filed inside, assumed the usual spot each favored inside the lush man hideaway spot. This night, or very early morning, was unusual.

  This meeting was too important.

  Too much at stake.

  The leader said for all to come now, and no one argued with Bruce Perks. Not only the mayor of the town but wealthy and powerful. He had connections at the state level from his business days which landed him the fortune he nurtured now. Respected and intimidating, Bruce dealt a heavy-hand and put up with little.

  In return for what he viewed as a fair and balanced approach to governing the town, he demanded loyalty. In the last two elections, he ran unopposed. No one crossed Bruce.

  He stood behind the cherry-wood bar, his hands firmly rested on the beautiful deep red wood top, and he waited for each man to arrive. No knock was needed for these men. Just arrival at the mandatory time. The first two to come were old friends who helped Bruce get rich, and he helped them in return.

  Hank Oldsby, member of the town board, second in charge, and the only realtor in town. Not a land or home transaction took place in and around Clyde without it going through Hank and his real estate business. A lifetime friend of Bruce and nothing was said to either that the other didn’t or wouldn’t hear.

  Fred Tipton also sat on the town board. He owned the two gas stations in town. One was gas-only and offered basic auto repair while the other business, the more valuable one, was a mini-mart. Though it was profitable, Fred wasn’t retiring any time soon. Not enough vehicles drove through town to do more than pay the bills. He lived off investments in real estate that Hank and Bruce tied him in with.

  The three men rarely went a day without getting together. They grew up together, went through the Clyde school system together, and now sat on the town board together, all with one focus: how could they make Clyde relevant and prosperous again?

  Hank and Fred sat on opposite ends of the eight-stool bar. Bruce wanted it that way so that each man could clearly see everyone else and read them. It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t trust anyone else; it’s just that he didn’t trust anyone else enough to not pay close attention to him.

  And this deal demanded he kept close attention on the other four men involved. Hank, Fred, and Bruce thought alike and knew each other well enough that many sentences went unspoken. The other four were not so close.

  William Bloom arrived after Fred. The principal of the high school and for all intents and purposes was the superintendent as well. Consolidating the positions was necessary as a cost-cutting measure several years earlier. Bloom merely hand-picked members to serve on the school board where he could delegate when necessary. It worked well and helped the district avoid closing. So far.

  Bloom was an educator. Out of college, he was hired as a grade-school teacher in Clyde. His family was farmers, as were most of the people in and around Clyde. Bloom taught for many years, taught at different levels, and eventually, after twenty years as a teacher, the principal job opened. Bloom was a natural choice. Twenty years later, he saw the writing on the wall for both his career and the school district he devoted his life to.

  Marvin Solder walked through the door. A short, skinny man who served as the electrician for the town. He did it all: home, business, farm, industrial. Some said he was an electrical genius, but the truth was that Marvin understood electricity and whether in big cables or small, to him, it was all the same. That made him indispensable in Clyde. His only blemish in the eyes of many Clyde-folk was that his parents moved to Hobby during Marvin’s high school years. Marvin attended Hobby High but moved back after graduation. He talked about helping the kids at school often.

  Bloom saw this and had Marvin on the school board. Marvin volunteered to work with the middle school and high school kids, running workshops on being an electrician and always seemed to have an interest in the kids.

  Next walked in Gary Pritchett. A volunteer fireman, the fire inspector, on the school board, and owned the hardware store in town. Gary was younger than the older Bruce, Fred, Hank, and William. They needed young blood to continue the Clyde tradition, and Gary was eager to take over when the time came.

  Last was the coach, Tim Weber. The star of the town, everyone liked him. He managed to bring Clyde some semblance of glory with a state football championship, even if it was only seven-man teams rather than the traditional full squad teams. Declining enrollment made that a necessity to keep football alive in Clyde, Hobby, and many small rural towns.

  Keeping Weber around was essential. When he announced he was leaving, the board couldn’t find a replacement. They knew money was vital, as was his commitment. Letting him go presented an array of potential trouble that was easier to deal with by offering Weber more money.

  All seven men sat at or near the bar and waited for Bruce to begin. The men looked at each other, anxiously, impatient, curious. This meeting was not supposed to happen, so why did Bruce call it?

  “Thanks for coming, gentlemen,” Bruce began. “Normally, I would apologize for the last-minute nature of this, but developments in town necessitated the meeting. What I am hoping for tonight are some answers and resolutions. It doesn’t look like it will be as cut and dry as was originally projected. I’m concerned about the rumors I’m hearing. They’re all over town.” Bruce looked directly at Weber.

  The other men noticed. All eyes focused on the large man.

  “What rumors?” Weber asked. “I haven’t heard any.”

  “You searched the Miller woods today.”

  “Yes, like you instructed. We didn’t find any signs of the boy.”

  Bruce shook his head, unimpressed with the answer. “Was the boy at the school?”

  “Rumor has it, he ran away. The PI thinks that’s the way he left town,” Marvin said.

  “I heard they suspect you had something to do with it, coach,” Bruce said. “Was he at the high school that morning?”

  “Everyone thinks he ran away,” Marvin repeated.

  “I didn’t ask you, Marvin. I asked Tim.” Bruce looked back to Weber. “Was he at the school that morning?”

  Tim sighed. “Yeah, he stopped by.”

  Bruce, Hank, Fred, and William all lowered their heads and sighed. “
Why? What was he doing there? You knew no one was supposed to be there.”

  “Why meet him there of all mornings?”

  “Oh, sweet Jesus! Why would you do that?”

  “Damnit, Weber, we had the area cleared!”

  Weber flushed; his face reddened, and he took a deep breath. “His scholarship got pulled. Derek thought it was my fault, and he wanted to meet to discuss his options moving forward. We talked, and then we left in different directions a half hour before we were supposed to be out of there.”

  “You shouldn’t have been there at all!” Bruce shouted. “What if they find the body when they clear the school? Then what? Gary already said the area is clear! We’ll have more than a mess on our hands then.”

  “They won’t find the body,” Gary said. “He’s not there. He ran away.”

  “Well, the PI doesn’t think so,” Hank said. “I heard that at the diner. He thinks the kid is still here somewhere.”

  “He’ll be moving out of town soon,” Gary said. “He’s not an issue anymore.”

  “How can that be?” Bruce asked.

  “Measures had to be taken.” Gary sipped his drink. “Trust me, he’s not a threat anymore.”

  “What about his girlfriend or that damn teacher? She was there,” Fred said. “They certainly know what he knows.”

  “The teacher doesn’t know anything,” Weber said.

  “She was there,” Marvin added. “She might have seen something she shouldn’t have.”

  “We don’t know that,” Weber said.

  “Marvin, you were there. Did she see anything?” Bruce asked.

  Marvin stood straight at the bar and held his hands out to his side. “I can’t say for sure what she saw or what she thinks she saw,” Marvin looked at Weber a look only those two knew, “but she knows two people were there and I’d bet she’d say the kid and Tim.”

  The men murmured to each other.

  “She hasn’t said anything to anyone,” Bruce said.

  “We don’t know what she’s saying to the PI. I bet she spilled the beans to him, and that’s why the outsiders are staying at her home,” Marvin said. “She’s scared, and we can’t afford to take that chance.”

  Bruce rubbed his forehead. “Did she see anything she shouldn’t have, Tim?” His stare burned a hole through Weber.

  Weber’s eyes shifted left and right. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. “No.”

  Bruce’s stare didn’t diminish for several uneasy moments. “For your sake, I hope not.”

  “The PI got Orb to ask about the death of old man Johnston,” Gary said. “What if Orb keeps asking?”

  “Don’t worry. My son Larry took care of that for us,” Bruce said.

  “And he won’t ask any questions? What if they press him on the cause of death and why he was cremated so fast?” Gary asked.

  Bruce smiled. “My son may be the apple that fell a little further from the tree, but if he is one thing, it is loyal, and he does what I tell him. He won’t say a thing to anyone.”

  “And he won’t suspect anything when we profit off the sale of that land?” Hank asked.

  Bruce shook his head. “Larry isn’t the brightest. I love him to death, but don’t worry about him.” Bruce rubbed his chin. “How is that sale coming along?”

  Hank sighed. “I’m chasing down the widow. She left town. Not sure where to, but I’ll find her, and she’ll sign.”

  The other men nodded but said nothing.

  Bruce looked at each man. “Let’s keep this in check, gentlemen. We need this deal, and we need to be in control of it.”

  “Don’t worry,” Gary said. “We have a firm handle on everything now.”

  CHAPTER 36

  Julie laid on the bed on her back. She sprawled out and overtook most of the bed. With no Zack there, Julie owned it. But she didn’t like it, and Julie barely slept all night after Orb finally left. Still no Zack.

  Julie rolled over and took the sheet and comforter with her clutched tight under her arm. Zack’s cell phone beeped. She grabbed it off the table and saw the text from Michelle.

  Check your email. I did some digging. You and Jules NEED to see it NOW.

  Julie rolled over, her eyes open and fixed on the phone. She grabbed hers as it had a larger screen and read what Michelle found. Julie read it slowly and understood what it meant. She wanted to tell Zack, but things suddenly changed.

  The story she didn’t want just blossomed into an exposé.

  * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, she was out of the shower and dressed. She grabbed her things and rushed downstairs. She smelled coffee and saw that Molly was still in her robe.

  “Hey, you all right?” Julie asked her.

  “No. I don’t know how else to answer that. How are you?”

  Julie frowned and shrugged. She hated that Zack disappeared frequently enough for her to know how to deal with it. Julie had to keep busy. There was a case to solve, and that’s what she did. “You should get some sleep,” Julie told her. “You’ll feel better.”

  “How can I sleep? A tree almost crushed my house and killed your fiancé’s car! He’s gone, and we don’t know where he is. I’m about to panic here, Julie! How can you not be?”

  Julie understood more than Molly realized. She walked to her, grabbed Molly’s arms, and squeezed them. “Because it doesn’t do any good. So either sleep or be productive and I have to be productive because I can’t sleep. As for Zack,” Julie sighed. “Just stay positive. So far, he keeps turning up.”

  “You mean this has happened before?”

  Julie smiled at the incredulity in Molly’s voice, but a knock on the door stopped the conversation. “Orb’s here,” Julie saw.

  Molly moved her arms, and her robe opened briefly, exposing her bare breasts and showing what little she wore at night. “Oh. I better put on some clothes. I don’t want him to see me like this.”

  Julie smiled. My fiancé better not see you like that, either!

  Molly disappeared into her bedroom, and Julie opened the door. “Orb,” she greeted.

  “Morning,” Orb said. “Stack?”

  Julie shook her head. “What brings you here?”

  “Well, thought I’d take a look at the tree that crushed your boyfriend’s car,” Orb said. “I’m afraid it was more than just the storm that brought it down.”

  * * * *

  “Wakey, wakey, bloke.”

  A hand slapped his face, and he heard vulgar, deep-throated laughter. A hand tapped his face again with no compassion.

  “I said, wake up.”

  Zack’s eyes blinked and adjusted to the dim light. The damp, musty smell hit him hard. The air was thick with moisture and smelled of dirt. Underground.

  “Oh, I can’t wait to have fun with you,” the voice laughed evilly.

  Zack’s eyes focused, and he finally saw the man who sat on a five-gallon bucket in front of him. A round, ugly face filled with pock-marks and deep black eyes. The man had short gray stubble on his scalp and dark-yellow teeth mixed with gaps and black teeth. A fight with a chain-link fence and coal ash. He wreaked of smoke, body odor, and bad breath. He wore dark, camouflage hunting gear.

  “It’s too bad you’re not younger,” the man laughed.

  Two other men appeared, but they wore masks. One was short and thin, the other stood at least six inches taller and looked fit. Zack couldn’t tell if they were white, black, brown, or yellow. The clothing they wore and dim lighting excluded the possibility of seeing identifiers.

  “You walked into the wrong forest, boy,” the shorter man said.

  “You should have listened and stayed out,” the taller man said.

  “Can we kill him now?” The round-faced ugly man eyed Zack with disdain and a hungry, evil look in his eyes. “He ain’t no good to any of us.”

  “No,” the taller man said. “We can’t kill him. Leave him alone. Let him sit. Now that he’s here, he’s no threat. We’ll figure out what to do with him soon e
nough.”

  Zack’s ankles, knees, and wrists were duct-taped together. His hands rested on his lap, but his arms were taped with three strands of duct tape all the way around his body. To keep him quiet, they added a piece of duct tape over his mouth.

  Zack sat on his butt, his back against the dirt wall of a tunnel beneath the surface of the earth. A small room was behind the ugly man in front of him, but other than the dark tunnel to his right and left, Zack couldn’t see anything. He didn’t know if they removed anything from his pockets, but he knew his Sig was gone. It was stuck in the belt of the taller man that seemed to be the leader.

  “What could be more important than this pansy-ass outsider being inside my lair? He knows something. We should just kill him.”

  “You touch him, and I’ll gut you like a fish.” The taller man said. “Only after I turn you in, so do as I say. Follow the plan, and you’ll be able to get out of this hole for good.”

  “What about his girlfriend and the teacher? Whatever this guy knows, they know. They’ll come looking for him,” the shorter man said.

  “Let’s find out what they know first. What the hell could they know? They’ve only been here a few days,” the taller man said. “Besides, they won’t come here.”

  “What if he told them he was coming here?”

  The taller man looked at Zack and shrugged as if he didn’t have an answer for that.

  The shorter man looked at Zack. “Should have blown his ass up at the school. But we got your ass now, don’t we, hotshot?” The shorter man laughed, stepped forward, and punched Zack. “You aren’t so tough now, are you?”

  Zack stared at the weasel without showing any reaction from the punch.

  The taller man chuckled. “Come on, we have to get out of here. You’re right, they will come looking for this guy. So we need to be out of here when they do.” He looked at the bulbous-headed ugly man. “Ogre, don’t you dare touch him. You understand?”

  “My name is not Ogre!” The ugly man snapped, but he seemed to understand he was not to mess with Zack. “Fine. Like I said, he’s too old anyway.”

  Zack felt relieved. He didn’t like the insinuation. But he did inwardly smile because the ugly man did strike a strange resemblance to an ogre. A hideous one.