Smoke Stack

by Andrew Gruse

  Pigface is what Zack settled on. Zack initially liked Ogre but decided that it was an insult to ogres everywhere. The ugly man’s head and face was round, red, and though the nose wasn’t pushed back or up, it was fat and bulbous. The man himself wasn’t fat, just a solid mass. Pigface’s arms weren’t defined, but they were thick. Pigface’s body was thick. Likely a formidable foe if Zack could get out of the bonds and fight his way out. But right now, as he sat with the duct tape tightly around his wrists, that wasn’t an option.

  The prospect of how much time passed occurred. Zack was sure it was hours. Even if they hadn’t taken his watch, the duct tape would have covered it. Hunger pains gnawed at him. Zack knew he dozed off after he woke from being knocked out. The tension and stress of the last week took a toll.

  But it wasn’t long, and it wasn’t refreshing. Just the reminder that Zack was tied up. A prisoner.

  Another set of footsteps echoed in the tunnel to his left. Left was the direction String Bean, Weasel, and Pigface went. The exit. Zack heard voices. An exchange that quickly elevated into a disagreement. Only one man was clearly the leader.

  Footsteps approached. Different footsteps. Confident, long strides. No scuffling of the feet. A different man appeared. Average height, average build, he wore blue jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt with no markings. A green kerchief wrapped around his face blocked out all but his eyes. A red and white farmer’s cap covered his head. It also had no markings.

  The man stopped six feet away from Zack and stared at him. Pigface appeared behind the man. “You left him like that all night?”

  “I was told to not touch him,” answered Pigface.

  The man shook his head. “Can you hear that?”

  “Hear what?”

  “You idiots! That wheezing! He’s slowly suffocating,” the man said. He stepped forward, leaned over, and ripped the duct tape off Zack’s mouth.

  Zack gasped for the air. It rushed in his lungs, and he felt a huge relief. The pain of the tape ripped off his skin didn’t faze him since the air felt so good. Zack slouched forward and breathed heavily.

  “Are you going to make any noise? Yell, scream, cry, anything stupid?”

  Zack didn’t move his head and enjoyed the air, however damp, thick, and musty it was as it filled his lungs.

  The man kicked Zack’s feet. “Hey, I’m talking to you. Are you going to make any noise?”

  Zack looked at the man. “Would it do any good?”

  The man’s eyes smiled. “No. None at all. All it would do is irritate him,” he said and pointed at Pigface. “And you don’t want to irritate him. You wouldn’t like it.”

  Zack didn’t say anything.

  “I suspect you’re thirsty and hungry and have to piss. But I’m not going to let you. I’d hate to have to shoot you if you try something stupid. And I think it’s safer if you’re getting weaker by the moment.” The man turned to Pigface. “Give him a sip of water every hour. We want him weak, not dead. Not down here. We’ll never get the smell out. Remember the last time?”

  “That was unfortunate,” Pigface smiled. “But it was necessary.”

  The man looked back at Zack. Zack quickly named him Bigshot. “What is this about?”

  The man smiled and squatted in front of Zack, his elbows on his knees, but the mask covered most of his face. Zack could smell peppermint and saw the man’s bare hands. Average size, no rings, his left thumbnail black and blue. Easily recognizable. A nice sight.

  “Well, Mr. Private Detective, this is how we treat outsiders that interfere with our business.”

  The voice was normal but slightly muffled by the kerchief tied around his face. Zack tried to recall hearing it.

  “What business is that? Arson and murder? Or kidnapping?”

  The man stood. “We do what we have to do. What business it is of yours is nothing. You and your cute little bitch girlfriend should have kept on driving.”

  That’s what I said! “A bitch? Do all you guys hate women around here?”

  “Just nosey little bitches that ask too many questions. We like to silence them,” Bigshot said.

  “Touch her, and I’ll kill every one of you.”

  Bigshot hesitated before he burst out laughing. Pigface seemed upset at first but laughed along with Bigshot. The two laughed, and Bigshot kicked Zack’s feet again.

  “We’ll see about that, tough guy. Oh, I saw the report on you. Tough guy. Real tough guy.” He nodded. “We’ll see about that. In fact,” he leaned over again, “before this is over, I bet you’ll be weeping like a little girl begging for all of this to be over. And it will be over. We just have to decide where we’re going to dispose of the bodies.” Bigshot eyed Zack one second longer, stood, and walked away.

  Pigface grinned at Zack, followed Big Shot down the tunnel, and disappeared.

  At least I’ll get water every hour. And I can breathe. Now, just conserve your strength, Zack. He closed his eyes and pictured Julie’s smile and eyes, and the last time he saw her. He wasn’t happy with the way they left things, but Zack knew he could fix things if he could escape.

  If he could escape.

  CHAPTER 40

  Orb dropped Julie back at Molly’s house late that morning. The conversation with Bloom did little but present more questions and the need for more information. Julie didn’t want to drink coffee though it smelled good. She read about coffee and decided less was probably better in her situation.

  Busy wasn’t enough. Julie could barely focus as her worry escalated. Where is he? Should I call Andre? Ted? What do I do?

  Molly walked around the corner and smiled at Julie. “Hi, you’re back. How did it go?”

  Julie tried to look not scared and unsure of herself. “As well as can be expected.”

  Molly stopped in the kitchen in front of Julie and observed her closely. “Hey, I think you should eat something. How does that sound?”

  “Oh, no, I’m not hungry,” Julie said. “Not sure I could eat anyway.”

  Molly smiled and grabbed Julie’s hands. “You need to eat. Come on, help me make us a decent lunch. It will help take your mind off the obvious.”

  Julie sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where he’s at. Orb isn’t even looking for him. He said he’ll show up. How do I know that? I know Zack. Something is wrong! He wouldn’t leave me here alone with everything that is going on.”

  “You know where he was going,” Molly said. “So, let’s eat and go for a drive?”

  “I don’t want to go into that forest.”

  “Oh, I’d never go in there. But we can still drive around and look. We’ll find Orb. I’ll persuade him to look for Zack,” Molly said. “If he still has a crush on me like you think, I should use it to my advantage.”

  Julie nodded.

  “You want some coffee?”

  “Oh, no, I can’t,” Julie said.

  Molly put down the coffee pot and stood still for a moment in thought. “Wait, you aren’t drinking alcohol either.” She looked at Julie and smiled. “Is there something I should know?”

  * * * *

  Trusting a stranger like Molly wasn’t easy, but it was all Julie had. Both agreed that alone was not the thing to be right now. They had a light, healthy lunch, and though Molly showed excitement over the news, Julie was more constrained. Maybe in time it would be good news but not right now.

  Julie went upstairs to clean up before they left the house. Early afternoon, the sun played hide-and-seek with the clouds, and a gentle light breeze entered through the open window. Julie smelled the fresh spring air and heard birds chirping and singing outside.

  She missed Zack.

  She sat on the bed and realized that feeling sorry for herself was not accomplishing anything. Julie got angry with herself. This isn’t what I did the last time Zack disappeared. So do something! Solve this thing! Julie went to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and saw the tired gray bags under her eyes. Stress. Julie didn’t like what she s
aw.

  She walked back into the bedroom when her cell phone buzzed. A text. She pounced on it, but it was Michelle.

  It read: Jules, talked to your M.E., boy he sure is into you. I mentioned your name, and he dropped everything. Anyway, he said he was going to call you about the report I gave him. I said I’d make sure it’s ok to call first. Should I tell him to call?

  Julie took a deep breath and typed back a simple yes. She wasn’t sure if it were hormones, intuition, or just being tired, but Julie couldn’t shake what she felt. Why us? Why can’t we have a normal relationship? Especially now. Zachary, where the hell are you?

  Before Julie could wash her face and try to hide the bags under her eyes, her phone rang. She ran to it, saw the number and frowned. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Julie, it’s Doc Patterson, how are you?”

  A wave of disappointment rushed through her, but she shook it off. “Good. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Hey, I looked at the report your friend Michelle sent me. Ruled a suicide of a guy named Dick Miller, right?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. What do you think?”

  Patterson chuckled. “Come on, Julie, you looked at it, right?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Did you?” He scoffed. “Come on now. You’ve seen a lot of these, and you’re telling me you didn’t see problems?”

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” she said, “a lot is going on here.”

  “Ok, I’ll cut you some slack. Where do you want me to start?”

  “The beginning.”

  “Ok. Let’s look at the ID of the DB. No fingerprints, no DNA match, not even a blood test was done to see what the type was.”

  “Ok.”

  “So tell me, how did they identify the body?”

  Julie thought for a moment. “The sheriff said he found him and identified him.”

  “How?” Patterson waited, but Julie was silent. “Julie, the man’s face was literally blown off his head. Most of his skull was obliterated by the shotgun blast. Didn’t you look at the pictures?”

  “Not really,” Julie admitted. There is a LOT on my mind!

  “I see,” Patterson said, disappointment in his voice. This was not the verbal volley he was used to with Julie. “I’m saying there is no way they could identify that corpse as Dick Miller with what I saw in the report and with the guy’s head all over the room and his face in a thousand pieces, no one could look and say definitively who that was, but that’s not the best part.”

  “It gets better?”

  “Julie, you obviously are not yourself right now.”

  You can say that again!

  “The shot came from behind.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, that’s right. The shot was into the back of the head, or else the face would not have disintegrated like that. This means, based on the amount of damage and spread of the explosion of the head, there is absolutely no way on this earth or the next that Dick Miller if that’s who the DB really is, could have committed suicide.”

  Julie’s face went white. “Oh, no.”

  “Yeah, whoever that is, or was, was murdered, and I don’t think the DB knew it was going to happen. The pictures don’t suggest the body was staged or moved. A guy could shoot himself in the face point blank with a shotgun and fall forward onto his stomach, but I doubt it. And the gun was a powerful one. The position of the body suggests the DB wasn’t running or defensive. Just probably sitting in a chair reading and then boom! Off with his head.”

  “Why would they say it was suicide then? Why wouldn’t they make a positive identification on the body? Doc,” Julie said, “there is a murderer loose here.”

  “Hey, I told you already, I only deal with the dead ones. Much easier. The live ones make no sense. But I will tell you this, I did look into the coroner who certified the findings if that’s what you want to call it. Son of the mayor of Clyde. When he’s not a coroner, he spends his time pretending he’s a professional fisherman and an outdoor enthusiast. Basically, he has no education or qualifications to do the coroner’s job. The fact that we actually could find the report shocked me and the fact that no one questioned it shocked me even more. I will tell you this, Julie, I’d pay attention if I were you. If you’re digging this up now, it might not be safe.”

  “Sonofabitch, Doc,” Julie said. Fear enveloped her, and her hands shook. “I think I already know who did it.”

  “I bet you do, and I know who I’d start with. But that’s only half the story. You’d have to exhume the body to find out who the DB really is. A qualified exam would tell you more. Oh, and Julie, please be careful.”

  “Thanks, Doc.”

  The call ended, and Julie thought of Sheriff Orbison. He lied. And murdered Dick Miller.

  CHAPTER 41

  Julie readied herself. She looked at Zack’s bag, saw the Sig, and took a deep breath. She picked up the Sig, stuffed it in her beltline behind her back, and put on one of Zack’s hooded sweatshirts. It covered most of her butt and concealed the weapon. She didn’t like carrying the gun, but again, that intuition, or hormones, or paranoia…she didn’t care. Zack made sure she was an expert shot, and Julie intended to prove it if she had to.

  She started downstairs when she heard a male voice. Sheriff Orbison. She froze and wanted to run before she took a deep breath and realized that no one knew what she knew. Not even Zack. Orb certainly would have no idea. She tried to look calm and walked down the stairs to see Orb in the living room, talking with Molly.

  The two stopped talking and looked at Julie. Julie smiled but didn’t know what to say. Her phone rang, and she felt relieved. “I’m sorry, hi Orb,” she said as calmly as she could, “I need to take this.”

  She walked into the kitchen and answered.

  “Jules, I have something. I was digging in Clyde’s school records and saw who they bought all those chemicals from. Something didn’t seem right, so I checked that particular company. It wasn’t easy, and I broke a law or two, but you won’t believe what I found.”

  Julie shook her head. “How are you getting this stuff so fast?”

  “I have a pretty good student helping me today.”

  “Who?”

  “Stefani. She heard about you and Zack’s problems and is here on her day off.”

  Julie nodded though Michelle couldn’t see it. “Ok. What did you find?”

  “What the school has on record is not what they actually bought,” Michelle said.

  “What?”

  “Julie, the school changed the records. They had five times more than what the records showed. They changed the records.”

  “Wait, what? How could they do that? Every cent they spend has to be accounted for. It’s a small school with a small budget. How could they do that, and no one asks?”

  “Because the district has only a couple people doing oversight. Want to know who?”

  “I’d start with William Bloom, the principal.”

  “Add his two cohorts, Marvin Solder and Gary Pritchett, and you have the whole group.”

  “What? The fire inspector knew those chemicals were stockpiled in the school?”

  “Maybe. He either knew, or Bloom changed the invoice before Pritchett saw it. Either way, there’s no way anyone can think it was an accident now. So, are you and Zack giving this to the police and getting out of there? That’s what you’re going to do, right?”

  Julie’s eyes teared. She wanted to tell Michelle but knew she couldn’t. She knew what would happen: Michelle would panic, and Andre would arrive in town before the day was over likely with Darnell. Hell would break loose. No, she had to handle this herself.

  “I’ll talk to Zack. The sheriff is here now. I’m sure this will wrap up soon.”

  Michelle paused. “You aren’t telling me something.”

  Julie’s heart stopped. How could she guess that out of what I said? Is this woman psychic for real? “Look, I have to go. A tree fell on Zack’s car last night during the storm. Thanks, Miche
lle. You’re the best.” Julie quickly hung up and put her phone on silent. She wiped her cheeks, took a deep breath, and walked into the living room.

  “Hey, Julie,” Orb said. “Did Zack come back yet?”

  Julie shook her head.

  Orb straightened up, took a deep breath, and shook his head. “You sure he went into the Miller woods to look for Derek?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Shit. All right. I’ll drive through there now.”

  “We’ll come with,” Molly said.

  “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Orb said.

  “Orb,” Julie said, “we can’t stay here. I can’t stay here. We were going to drive there, so either take us, or we’ll go ourselves. Please.”

  Orb took a deep breath and frowned. “Alright. But you won’t leave the vehicle unless I say it’s ok. You understand?” He looked at Molly. “Molly, you’ve lived here for ten years. You know what has happened there.”

  Molly nodded.

  “Ok. If you’re ready, let’s go.”

  * * * *

  Pigface appeared with a five-gallon bucket in his hand. He smiled at Zack, an evil, treacherous smile. “I’m supposed to give you a sip of water. Here it is,” he said in his gravelly voice. He tipped the bucket, put one hand on the bottom, and flung it at Zack. The water rushed out and hit Zack in the face and chest.

  Pigface laughed. “Did you get your sip?”

  “No, not really,” Zack said.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll get you another.” Pigface put down the bucket, grabbed another behind him, and did the same thing. The water this time hit Zack in the mid-section.

  “Thanks, that did the trick,” Zack said and sarcastically lipped his lips. “Best well water I’ve had in days.”

  Pigface scowled at Zack and thought of violating his prisoner in worse ways but stopped when he felt a vibration in his pocket. He pulled out his cell phone and read the text.

  “Looks like your bitch girlfriend pushed the panic button. The cops are on their way to look for you.” He laughed. “I may get visitors. How nice.” He laughed and put his cell phone in his pocket. “I bet you never thought this would be the way you end, was it?” Pigface showed his disgusting disfigured and discolored teeth. “Big tough guy like you. How did you picture you’d die?”