As the group of kids passed us by, Sherlock paused only long enough to woof a warning. Once the giggling girls had vanished from sight the tri-colored corgi resumed his growls and led us further away. Watson and Anubis had stopped their own growls but were following Sherlock closely, as if to assure the little corgi that they had his back should the situation call for it.
“I’ve never been able to understand why a young girl would want to dress like slutty schoolgirl for Halloween,” Jillian mused. “No one is scared of a schoolgirl.”
I reluctantly raised a hand, “Not true. I wouldn’t want to be in a room full of teeny boppers. Are you kidding me? That’s the stuff of nightmares!”
Vance laughed, but he was cut off the moment Tori smacked his gut.
Five minutes later we passed what I was certain was the place where we had found the dead body from a few nights ago. The dead mummified body, I reminded myself. I thought Sherlock would stop and at least check the area out. Nope. He glanced over as we passed the large clearing that had recently been cut into the corn but didn’t even break stride. As we came upon the same junction point as we did from before, with at least seven paths heading off in different directions, another group of kids appeared in a path coming from the north. All three were dressed as mummies.
There was no other way to describe what happened next but to simply say Sherlock went bat-shit crazy. He began barking and there was nothing friendly about it. His hackles had risen, his teeth were bared, and if I hadn’t been holding onto the leash, I’m sure he would have torn off after the kids.
Just then, the unexpected happened. One boy took one look at us, cried out in alarm, and fled back up the path. The four of us shared a look. What had just happened?
The two remaining kids looked uncertainly amongst themselves before they turned tail and fled, too.
Sherlock was damn near frothing at the mouth. He was pulling so hard on his leash that he was almost choking himself. He wouldn’t stop barking!
“Sherlock! Be quiet! What’s gotten into you? You’ve seen all those other kids dressed up. Why would those three bother you?”
“They were dressed as mummies,” Vance said as he frowned. “Were those the only mummies that we’ve seen so far?”
Jillian shook her head, “No. We saw one just as we went inside the maze.”
“Remember the boy and girl that followed us around for a while?” Tori asked. “The boy was dressed as a mummy. Sherlock didn’t have a problem with him.”
My eyes widened.
“One of them has gotta be our mummy impostor! And I’m betting it was the boy who fled first! That’s why Sherlock was growling. He must have picked up the same scent he smelled at the exhibition. What do you want to bet that kid knows where the pendant is?”
“Give me Anubis!” Vance demanded, thrusting his hand backwards. Tori tossed the dog’s leash to him. “Anubis, find them! Go!”
Anubis took off like a shot. Vance let out a whoop and gave chase. Both Sherlock and Watson barked excitedly and pulled on their leashes. Clearly they wanted to join the chase.
“Nuh uh,” I told the corgis. “We’ll follow at a more respectable distance. This is a matter for the police, not for us.”
Sherlock whined and tried to get me to pick up the pace. Somewhere up ahead I heard Vance let out a shout. I looked back at Jillian. She was already pulling her whistle out.
“Good. Jillian, get some help. I don’t trust this. Tori, take Watson. Sherlock and I are going to see if Vance needs any help.”
I gave Sherlock some extra leash and we both took off. I let the corgi lead for a few minutes until we saw something laying discarded in the middle of the path. Scraps of linen. It was the kid’s mummy costume. By some strange coincidence there was a mummy propped up like a scarecrow nearby
Vance arrived a few minutes later. Unfortunately, he was empty handed. Somehow, that little puke had gotten away. Again!
“I take it you lost him?”
“Yeah, but I got something even better.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“His looks. I saw him. I’ll work with a police sketch artist and come up with a picture. He’s a young little punk. I’ll bet you a thousand bucks that our perp is a student at the high school.”
“Look around us, pal,” I told Vance. “We’re in the middle of a damn corn field. There’s nowhere to run to. We should be able to find him.”
“Are you kidding me?” Vance asked, incredulous. “The maze itself is 40-acres. Fanny’s Farms must have over 200 hundred total acres. They could be hiding anywhere.”
I promptly pointed down at the two dogs.
“I’ll bet one of them can find him.”
“They’re not bloodhounds,” Vance pointed out. ‘Besides, we don’t have the perp’s scent.”
“Yes, we do,” I corrected. “The costume! I’m pretty sure the kid dropped the costume back there.”
“He did? How did I miss that? Zack, show me. Hurry!”
We rushed back to the wadded up pile of white linen. I pulled my multi-tool from my belt, unfolded the pliers, and gently picked a piece of it up and held it out to Vance.
“Does this look like what the kid was wearing?”
Vance nodded, “Yes. That’s it, alright. I wonder why he dropped it. No matter. This is perfect. If we can get… is that blood?”
Vance took my pliers and held up a few strips of fabric. Sure enough, we could see several dark red smudges on the tattered scraps of cloth, as though someone had used the linen to wipe their bloody hands off. The detective held the strips down for the dogs. Anubis sniffed the costume, dropped his head down to sniff along the ground, and then looked pointedly in the direction the kid had fled.
I took my pliers back and held the strips down for Sherlock to sniff. Turns out my corgi wasn’t interested in the costume at all. He was, however, anxiously pulling on his leash, wanting to go in the direction the perp had fled.
Anubis barked. It was all Vance could do to keep the big German Shepherd in place. After a few moments my detective friend squatted, as though he was going to release the dog, when I laid a hand on his shoulder.
“There was blood on the costume. One of them might be armed. Do you want to run the risk of hurting Anubis?”
“He most certainly does not,” a woman’s voice flatly declared.
We turned to see Tori and Jillian approach, with Watson trailing behind.
“Don’t even think of turning him loose,” Tori warned. “You’re not going to put my dog in danger. If you want him to track somebody then you go with him.”
Vance nodded and looked down at Anubis. He ruffled the big dog’s fur.
“You heard her, Anubis. Let’s go find him!”
The German Shepherd took off like a shot. Vance was practically dragged behind him. I looked back at the girls and made a quick decision.
“Keep Watson safe. Sherlock, let’s go!”
SEVEN
“I hope you have a plan in place in case things get ugly,” I shouted at Vance as we ran through the maze at breakneck speed.
“I do,” Vance shouted back as he was half dragged through a wall of corn by Anubis. He had to wait until he wasn’t pushing through eight feet tall corn stalks before he could continue. “If it gets ugly then I expect you and Sherlock to clear out of the way. Protect your ass, Zack. Promise me!”
“Don’t you worry about me,” I wheezed. “I’ll be diving out of the way at the slightest sign of violence. Both of us will.”
The path we were following turned north. The kids we were following must have thought that by making their own path through the maze was all it’d take to lose any pursuit. Anubis immediately led us down the narrow path. The German Shepherd barked a few times and broke out into another run. I couldn’t stop the groan from coming out. Not only had I not been able to catch my breath, but from the way this was going, I wouldn’t be any time soon. Thankfully my groan of dismay was lost to the sounds of us crashing th
rough the corn stalks.
After running pell mell through the maze for another minute or two I realized where we were headed. If memory served, we were now angling towards that tiny road just outside the border of the maze. The road that’s not supposed to exist.
“I think I know where we’re going!” I called out. “Remember the road Sherlock found the other day just outside of the maze? I think those kids are headed that way!”
“Are you sure?” Vance asked. Anubis continued to bark and pull at his leash.
“Pretty sure.” I managed to pull the map from my back pocket and snapped it open as I ran. “Look, the border of the maze is the outline of the continental US. I’m pretty sure that’s what we’re on now. We’ve got to be nearing the top here.”
As if he had heard me, Anubis veered off the path and led Vance straight into the heart of the corn field. There were no paths, no openings or clearings. Nothing but acres and acres of swaying stalks of corn. Sherlock didn’t hesitate. He immediately followed. A few moments later we found it. Two tire trails, stretching off to the east and west and a narrow path that would barely allow a compact car to pass. Vance pulled out his cell.
“Dispatch, this is Detective Vance Samuelson. I am in pursuit of a suspect just outside of the maze at Fanny’s Farms… Yes, that’s the one. I want units covering every road leading away from this farm. I… what? I don’t know. There’s gotta be several. Cover ‘em all. The perp? Young. I’m guessing… I’m guessing he’s a high schooler. Of course I’m out of breath. I’m running, you knucklehead. Get them in place. Out.”
Vance thrust his cell back into his pocket and doubled his efforts. Now I feel I should point out that in order to become a police officer you had to go through training. You had to be able to chase the bad guy. Hell, I even knew that Vance liked to run for fun. As a matter of fact he was always trying to get me to join him. However, unless there’s some type of predator on my ass, there’s no way in hell you’ll ever see me run for the sheer joy of it. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is you have to be in great physical shape if you want to keep wearing a badge.
Why am I telling you all of this? Because Vance and Anubis were pulling ahead of me. By leaps and bounds. I may not be in perfect physical shape but I could usually hold my own. Jeez, not against those two. I’m pretty sure Sherlock and I felt (and looked) like Laurel and Hardy next to those two.
An object came seemingly out of nowhere and smashed into my chest, knocking me backwards a full five feet. I landed on the ground – hard – and tried to blink the stars out of my eyes. A headache erupted and I tasted blood. My blood. What the hell happened?
Two arms appeared and pulled me to my feet. I swayed like a newborn giraffe as I tried to regain my balance. I felt a furry nose nuzzle my legs.
“Zack! Are you alright?”
The twinkling stars continued to obscure my vision. I blinked stupidly at Vance a few times before I asked what happened. Or at least I tried to.
“Muh… wha…” I angrily cleared my throat. “Wha- what happened? What got me? Am I hit?”
“You ran into me, pal.”
“That was you? Damn. I need to hit the gym. Why’d we stop?”
Vance pointed at Anubis. The big German Shepherd was standing as still as a statue. Sherlock sauntered over to lend a hand. Within moments both dogs were sniffing along the ground. Anubis suddenly looked off to the right while Sherlock kept his nose pointed straight ahead.
“They’ve split up,” Vance explained, barely winded. Pompous ass. “Anubis and I will take the right. You and Sherlock keep going straight.”
“And what if we find something?” I asked, frowning. “What if the little punk is armed?”
“I seriously doubt it,” Vance said. “But if he is, exercise extreme caution. Don’t confront. Memorize his face, features, and anything else that stands out to you.”
I nodded and took a couple of deep breaths. I was so tired, so out of breath, that I briefly wondered what Vance would think of me if I barfed right in front of him. I clutched a painful stitch in my side and managed to wheeze out, “You… you got it. Sherlock, let’s go.”
“Are you okay?” Vance asked, concerned.
“I’m fine. The first round is on whoever doesn’t catch a bad guy first.”
Vance grinned, “You’re on!”
They took off like a shot. I gasped painfully a few times before urging Sherlock on. Let’s face it. There’s no way I was going to find one of those kids first. Hell, I’d be happy if I found anything. Sherlock’s barking caught my attention. He was doing everything he could to wiggle out of his collar. I wrapped the leash around my hand a few times and scowled at the little corgi.
“Nuh uh. No way. You’re staying with me, amigo.”
Sherlock yipped in exasperation. Little puke knows I can’t keep up with him. Steeling myself for a lung bursting sprint through the corn, I gave Sherlock as much leash as I could without letting go of it.
“Okay, sport. You’re up! Go! Do your thing!”
Sherlock looked at the fleeing forms of Vance and Anubis and whined. Apparently the little fellow didn’t want to become separated from his much larger companion. I gently tugged the leash to get his attention.
“Come on, Sherlock. We’ve got bad guys to find. You indicated someone went this way. Whaddya say we go check it out?”
As if that was all the motivation he needed, Sherlock barked excitedly and pulled me straight forward. I couldn’t help but notice that Sherlock wasn’t breaking out into a run. Could that mean he thought that the perp was somewhere nearby? Wouldn’t that indicate the little punk was trying to hide?
I squatted down next to Sherlock and draped my arm around him.
“I think he’s close, pal,” I whispered to the corgi. Sherlock woofed softly in response. “He’s hiding. We gotta find him. Think you can do it?”
Sherlock dropped his nose to the ground and began slowly inching forward. We made it about twenty feet when I noticed we had passed a cornstalk that was bent at an unnatural angle. A quick check confirmed it had been broken. Someone had recently passed it by! Excited, I grinned at Sherlock and urged him forward.
“We’re getting close,” I whispered to the dog. Sherlock’s ears perked up. “He’s here somewhere.”
I don’t know how Sherlock knows when I’m passing the leash from one hand to the next but the little booger timed it beautifully. Just as soon as I had unwrapped the leash from my right arm Sherlock surged forward, yanking the leash out of my grasp. His barks switched to the I’m-gonna-rip-your-throat-out variety and he took off. I managed to catch a glimpse of his fuzzy orange and black butt just as he disappeared into the rows of corn.
“Dammit, Sherlock! Get back here! Now!”
The sun had continued to set and I couldn’t help but notice that it was now getting harder to see. I could really use a flashlight right about now. Wait. My phone! It had a simple app on it which would switch on the LED flash. One button press later my cell phone turned into a flashlight and, with the phone held high, I tried to follow Sherlock.
Just then I heard him bark. Almost immediately I heard a cry of pain. Not canine, mind you, but human. I anxiously surged forward. The last thing I needed was for that little punk kid to hurt Sherlock. What if he had a gun? What if he had already used it?
After a few moments, following Sherlock’s angry barks and the kid’s increasingly frantic shouts, I found them. I was right. The kid looked to be around 16. He was short and skinny, had wild unkempt hair, and was sitting in the midst of several downed corn stalks. He had broken one off and was trying to keep Sherlock at bay. The corgi, on the other hand, looked determined to take a bite out of him. Sherlock was going bat-shit crazy. He was barking his head off and bounding across the ground, as though the field we were in was now too hot to stand on. The kid took one look at me and relief washed over his features.
“Call off your dog, mister!”
“And who might you be?” I asked, i
gnoring the kid’s request.
“Just call off your dog and I’ll tell you,” the kid pleaded.
I glanced over at Sherlock and saw that his teeth were bared and his hackles were up. I held up a hand to attract Sherlock’s attention, intent on telling him to be quiet once he looked my way. However, much to my surprise, he fell silent as soon as he saw my hand in the air. He may have stopped barking but it didn’t look like he was planning on ceasing his growls any time soon. I reached down to grab Sherlock’s leash, lifting it up to show the kid that I had it. I waited, expectantly, for the kid to start talking. Instead, however, the kid laughed and slowly rose to his feet. I thumbed my camera app and snapped a few pics.
“What’d you do that for?” the kid whined. “There was no need to take my picture!”
“Let’s recap, shall we? You’re hiding in the middle of a corn field. You’re bleeding from your right hand and you have the tenacity to insinuate you’re just an innocent bystander here? Bullshit, kid. Who are you? What’s your name?”
The kid sniffed disdainfully and his nose lifted higher by a few inches.
“I don’t have to answer your questions. I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m leaving.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I assured the kid. “Don’t want to talk to me? That’s fine. We’ll wait for my buddy to get here. You know, the other guy you’re running from? He’s a cop. A detective. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to meet you.”
The kid gave a cry of alarm and pushed past me in an attempt to flee. Sherlock became a blur of motion. He darted in just as the kid was passing and bit him on the closest ankle he could reach. The kid howled with pain and went down, taking out a few more corn stalks as he did. The kid rolled into a sitting position while clutching his left ankle.
“Your damn dog bit me! I’m going to sue you, dude. I’m going to sue you for everything you’re worth! Do you hear me? Wait, just wait a minute. Look, let’s make a deal. Let me go right now and we’ll each go our separate ways and I promise you I won’t seek any legal action against you. Whaddya say?”
Case of the Fleet-Footed Mummy Page 12
