C.O.T.V.H. (Book 1): Creation

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C.O.T.V.H. (Book 1): Creation Page 8

by Dustin J. Palmer


  “And you still got the job?” John said, feigning amazement.

  “Barnes leaned back in his big leather chair listening very closely to my every word. At the end of my speech, he leaned forward and said three words I never expected to hear, I believe you. Boy, I nearly fell out of my chair!”

  “That would have been my reaction as well.” John snickered.

  “‘Henry,’ he said, ‘I've read your reports and your case files. Seems to me,’ Barnes said, never taking his eyes off mine, ‘that someone very high up doesn't like where you're digging. This says to me that we should dig just a little bit deeper.’ I sat their speechless.”

  “Speechless? You? Man I bet that was a first.”

  “I honestly didn't know what to say. For years I'd been told I was crazy, obsessed. Now here sat this man telling me he believed me. Before I could say a word Barnes continued, he told me that there was less than two hundred Ranger positions in the whole state and that they currently only had two openings and a lot of good men had applied for them. But he was going out on a limb and hiring me! Can you believe it?”

  “I can honestly say that I can’t.”

  “Within weeks, using the resources of departments around the state, I found at least forty different cold cases that had the same characteristics. By then I knew I was on to something very big. So, in my off time I kept digging. I followed the trail. And do you know where that trail led me?”

  “No idea,” John said, with a straight face.

  For the first time Henry’s eyes grew angry. “It’s been a long road, John, and it’s cost me almost everything I’ve got. My wife is gone, married to another man. My kids are grown and won’t have anything to do with me. My social life . . . what social life? Other than cops I don’t have any friends to speak of.”

  “Come on Anderson. You’re breaking my heart.” John rolled his eyes.

  “You want to know why I'm here? I’ll tell you,” Henry leaned forward until he was mere inches from John’s face. “It took me years of digging. Searching through reports and evidence. I’ve scoured charred crime scenes digging for shotgun shells that match the very gun you were found with earlier this morning. You and your old man and Williams were always one-step ahead of me. But I’ve got you now, Bishop.”

  John spat on the floor. “What exactly is it you think you have? Because from where I’m sitting your just a crazy old coot. You’ve become so obsessed with this . . . fairytale you’ve made up; you’ve lost all sense of reality.”

  “You’re not the first to tell me that. I’ve had to sit and listen to that kind of shit for years! But now I’ve got you! I’ve got sixteen missing persons in the past two nights. Sixteen! That’s a lot for a town the size of Midland. I’ve got you armed to the teeth making a getaway with a 10-gauge model 1901 Winchester. Can you guess what the shell casings were from about a quarter of those murders I've been digging through for the past twenty years? That’s right John, 10gauge. I’ve got two teeth I found in the ashtray of your Ford. I've got your hands and arms bruised and bleeding. I've got you right where I want you. So, tell me what really happened, John? Did Julia find out the truth about her family? That your old man and a couple of his buddies killed them? That you’ve been out of the business for a while but suddenly got the urge again? What happened, John? Where’s your son? Did you kill him too?”

  John stared at him, his eyes cold as ice. “Here’s another question for you, what happened to Marty White? Last time anyone heard from him he was headed to your house. Why’d we find his wallet in the bushes outside your missing son’s bedroom?” Henry looked down at his watch then crossed his arms behind his head. “Better start talking son.”

  To his complete surprise John actually laughed. “I told you you’re not going to believe me.”

  Henry held out his hands. “Try me.”

  “Vampire,” John answered his eyes cold and hard.

  “Vampires?” Henry said, rolling his eyes. “What do you mean vampires?”

  “I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Well, son, I gave you a chance,” Henry rose to his feet picking his hat off the table.

  “I’m telling you the truth!” John said, his voice almost pleading. “Please Ranger. You’ve got to help me!”

  This time it was Henry that lost his cool. He slammed his fists hard on the table. “I know what you are, Bishop! You’re a killer! A cold blooded, vicious, killer! I’ve been chasing you and your sick, demented family for most of my career! I know everything about you!”

  John looked at the Ranger for a few seconds, recognition settling into his eyes. “I do remember you! I was only about twelve but by God, I remember you! You’re that crazy cop that arrested my old man, way back in . . .” “That’s right boy! Nineteen seventy-one and again in '76 and again in '79! I never could make anything stick on that slippery old snake, but now I’ve got you right where I want you! You’re going to tell me where your father is hiding. You’re going to give me everything on Billy Williams and the rest of your band of killers! If not, I’m going to make sure you never see the light of day again! I’m talking the electric chair! You’ll fry boy, and I’ll be there to flip the switch!”

  John rose to his feet in a flash, snapping the bolt holding his cuffs to the table. Before Henry could even reach for his pistol, he was being held against the door, his own gun pressed firmly against his forehead. “You don’t know anything!” John yelled spit streaming from his lips. “If you knew how many lives I’ve saved! How many demons I’ve sent to hell, you Rangers would get down on your knees and thank me! You have no idea what you’re talking about!”

  The cops on the other side of the door began banging frantically trying to push it open. However, the combined weight of both men against it was too much. “Okay . . . okay . . . John . . . just put the gun . . .” Henry started to say.

  “Just shut up! You think this is what I wanted? She’s all I’ve got, Ranger! And you are wasting what little time I’ve got left with your bullshit theories!”

  A new voice Henry didn’t recognize called through the door. “John Bishop!”

  John stopped talking and listened intently. “Yeah?”

  “John, this is Special Agent Morris with the FBI. John, put the gun down. I promise we’re going to do everything we can to find your wife. But you have to put the gun down.”

  Henry’s eyes remained focused on the barrel of his Sig Sauer. John’s burning hot breath ran across his face. Please God. Not like this. He prayed. Not with my own, damn gun!

  John seemed to be responding to the FBI agent’s words. He didn’t lower the gun but he did step slowly away from him. Henry let out a gasp of relief as the barrel pulled away from his forehead.

  “That’s good, John,” The voice on the other side of the mirror said, “Now put the gun down and lay down on the floor. You have my word no one will harm you.”

  John did as he was told, setting it on the table, then laid down flat on the floor before lifting his handcuffed hands behind his head. Henry rolled to the side and the door opened, allowing the two cops in. Both had their 9mm Berettas drawn and pointed at John. Behind them was a short, gangly looking man in a dark suit with jet-black hair slicked back with oil. A thin pair of wire frame glasses covered his hazel eyes.

  Henry picked his gun off the table and pointed it at John’s head. “You make one move, boy, if you so much as pass wind, I’m going to scatter your brains all over this room.” John must have believed him, because he didn't move a muscle.

  “Lieutenant Anderson? Sir, are you alright?” The Fed asked.

  “Yeah,” Henry said, clearing his throat. “I’m just fine. Just caught me by surprise is all.”

  “He’s a swift one alright,” The Fed said, his eyes filled with concern. “We’ve been trying to get a hold of Mr. Bishop for a long time now. He’s wanted for questioning in several different murder cases.”

  The two cops yanked John to his feet roughly and pulled him out the do
or to the cells beyond. “Well you federal boys are going to have to wait. He’s wanted here in Texas first. I’ve got jurisdiction until I hear otherwise.”

  “I have his transfer papers right here,” Agent Morris reached into his pocket pulling out a stuffed envelope. “From the Deputy Director himself.”

  Henry scanned over the paperwork then shook his head. “I don’t like this. No sir, I don’t like this one bit. How is it every time I get a break with one of these cases you damn Feds show up! First with Williams now Bishop!”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but this prisoner is mine. I’m to take him back to Houston where he’ll be questioned. I am not at liberty to discuss the details, sir.”

  “What about him getting a phone call and a lawyer and all that?” Henry asked. Stinking Feds! Something smells fishy here.

  “It’s all been taken care of,” Agent Morris said, with a warm smile. “Now if you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to get this man processed and on the way out of town. Don’t need my boss riding my ass too hard today. Oh! Speaking of which, I talked to your Captain, he said you’re to report back to Dallas ASAP, something about another homicide meeting your usual M.O.”

  “Great . . .” Henry muttered under his breath. “I’m not turning him over. I’ll hold him here until I confirm this.”

  “I’m sorry to step on your toes like this Lt. Anderson. I really am. But orders are orders,” The Fed said, extending his hand.

  Henry shook his head in defeat and walked away leaving the man’s hand hanging in mid air. “This isn’t the end of this! And you better add assaulting an officer to his charges!”

  “You have a good day, sir.” Agent Morris called after him. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

  “Cooperate with this!” Henry said flipping him the finger then walked out into the mid afternoon sunlight. Henry climbed back into his sedan and beat his hands on the steering wheel. I was this close! This damn close! “The hell with this!” He said, starting the car and pulling around to the small parking lot across the street. He watched the police station until Agent Morris brought Bishop out, the evidence bags containing his weapons firmly in his grasp. “Let’s just see where you take him Mr. Morris.”

  Chapter 6

  John/Henry

  Outside Midland Police Department

  July 31, 1994 7:48pm

  “It’s about damn time!” John said, as 'Agent' Ben Morris led him out of the police station still in handcuffs. “That damn Ranger has been grilling me for hours!”

  “Yeah, it’s nice to see you too, John,” Ben opened the backdoor to his blue sedan letting him in. “By the way, nice job nearly getting yourself shot in there. What the hell were you thinking?”

  John climbed into the backseat still in handcuffs. “It’s just been one hellacious day and I haven’t slept in nearly thirty six hours. Besides, he needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

  Ben scrunched his brow looking John over. His skin was pale and covered in sweat. Ben stretched out his hand touching John’s forehead. John angrily jerked away. “Damn it John, you’re burning up with fever,” Ben pulled his hand away. “Son of a bitch . . . You got scratched didn’t you?”

  “I’m fine,” John, scratched his wounded arm against the back of the seat. “They took me to the ER before booking me. Pam slipped me some powerful antibiotics. I'll be fine in a day or two.”

  Angrily Ben slammed the door behind him then climbed into the driver’s seat tossing the evidence bags with John’s weapons and belongings onto the passenger seat. “You know better than to hunt when you’re injured, John. You need to get some rest.” Starting the engine, he shoved the car in gear and pulled away from the police station parking lot, his eyes glancing at the image of his friend in the rear view mirror.

  “Look Ben I don’t need this shit. I have enough on my plate without you telling me how to be a hunter. If that’s all you came here for, you can just drop me off at the next corner.”

  Ben let out a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened to you. It’s just . . . it’s been a long time John. You know, Terry’s death wasn’t easy on any of us, and you just skipping town didn’t make things any better.”

  “Pull the car over,” John said, angrily. “Get these damn cuffs off!” he said, kicking the seat.

  “You can’t do this alone, John! You know that!”

  “Screw you, Morris! I haven’t seen you in seven years and the first thing you do is bring up Terry? Screw you, man! I was there remember? I had the man’s blood all over me! Besides, who the hell are you to lecture me? I carried your sorry ass for years! Who pulled that grunt off your back in ‘81? The Maker outside Denver in ’82? Me that’s who! If it weren't for me, you wouldn’t be sitting here today. You’d be some vampire’s little bitch boy! So don’t you dare lecture me!”

  “Screw me? Screw me! Screw you Bishop! You left us!” Ben said, pulling the car to the side of the road and turning in his seat. “It was bad enough losing, Terry! But for you to just throw it all away because you were just too damn scared! We were your family, John! Seven years and not one phone call, a letter, nothing! You just picked up your wife and your kid and left!”

  “Don’t you think I’ve paid the price?!” John yelled back at him. “My wife is probably dead right now! I barely got my son out before they killed him!”

  Ben took a deep calming breath, gripping the steering wheel tight in a white-knuckle grip. “Look . . . I’m sorry John. I didn't mean to start in on you like that. For what it’s worth, whatever you need I’m here for you. You’re still my friend John. Hell, you’re like my brother.”

  “Thanks,” John said, quietly. “Look, I’m sorry I left the way I did. But I had to get my family to safety. I had to get them away from that world. Terry was the last straw. I couldn’t watch what happened to him happen to Jake or Julia.”

  “I understand why you did it; I just don’t understand how you did it. How could you just cut us out of your life like that?”

  “Benny . . .”John sighed, lowering his head. “You know me. If I was anywhere around you, or Billy, or Talon, or even Pop, it would just be a matter of time before I was sucked back in. God, Ben, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about coming back. But Jake deserved a shot at a normal life. A life away from all this . . . this . . . soul sucking shit! But I made a mistake. I got too comfortable, too relaxed. This never would have happened to me five years ago, hell this never would have happened three years ago! But somewhere along the line, I just thought . . . I thought I was finally safe.”

  Ben nodded. "But there is no safe." he quoted the elder Bishop, Cort. "John, I'll tell you what, let’s focus on what we’ve got in front of us and then you and I can settle up later. Deal?”

  “I'd like that.” John nodded thoughtfully. “For what’s it’s worth, it’s damn good to see you again.”

  “Same here.” Ben pulled back onto the street. “I just wish it was under different circumstances.”

  The two rode in silence for the next five minutes before John broke it with a laugh in the backseat. “How the hell did you become a fed anyway?”

  Ben chuckled. “I’m not. Just a little favor from The Judge.”

  “What judge is going to help us out? Someone Billy knows?”

  Ben shook his head. “Buddy, you’ve been out of the game a long, long time. I’m talking about Colonel Frank Judge. He’s our government contact now. A few years back they started doing a lot more than offering bounties on fangs. Believe it or not they actually put a team on the ground. Bunch of Special Forces guys, Marines, Navy Seals, Army Rangers, even a few guys from Delta. The whole nine yards. They picked Judge to run it. The guy really knows his shit.”

  John shook his head. “Things really have changed. You’ll have to fill me in on all that I’ve missed.”

  “Will do. By the way, how is Jake doing? I mean, how’s he coping with all this? It’s got to be a shock to his system.”

  “Yeah that’s an understatement."
John sighed. "I honestly don’t know. To tell you the truth I’ve tried not to think about it too much. Once I get Julia back, I’ll deal with Jake. For now he’s with Pop.”

  “That’s good.” Ben nodded. “Cort will take good care of him.”

  “How’s Cat and . . . damn I’m sorry Ben I can’t remember your son’s name.”

  “That’s okay; you’ve got a lot on your mind. It’s Chris. They’re doing pretty good. Cat is beautiful as ever and Chris . . . Chris is like his old man. Nerdy, small, the poor kid even got stuck with glasses.”

  “Ah hell, Ben. That’s the worst news I’ve heard all day!” John said, sarcastically. “Might as well do the kid a favor and smother him in his sleep.”

  “Smart ass.” Ben said, under his breath. “I can’t help it John. You know how hard it was for me when we were growing up. You, Terry, and Wes were athletic and strong. I never stood a chance against you guys. You all breezed through Cort and Billy’s training. I barely survived!”

  “I wouldn’t say we breezed through it. As I remember it, I spent more than a few occasions getting my ass chewed out. But you survived. Your skills may lie in other areas but your one hell of a hunter. Until you came along contact with the authorities was spotty at best. Chris will be okay. He has Cat as a mom after all. She’ll make sure he turns out alright”

  “Thanks John.” Ben chuckled. “That means a lot.”

  Twenty minutes later Ben’s car came to a stop near a cotton field off Interstate twenty. Julia’s car was gone. Talon’s truck was parked on the side of the road, a jack under it with one of the tires off.

  “That’s the spot.” Ben said, pulling the sedan to a stop.

  “Good. Now maybe you can get these damn cuffs off of me.” John answered.

  “Yeah it should be safe now.”

  Ben climbed out of the car and opened John’s door then unlocked the handcuffs. Big red circles encompassed his wrists where they’d cut into his flesh.

 

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