The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles

by Conner, Declan

  Chapter 21

  A vehicle pulled up outside Shaw’s office. Shaw turned, and glanced outside. The car had “County Sheriff” sign written down the side. He stooped down, and picked up his phone pad off of the floor, then put it back on the desk. Shaw huffed. The last thing he needed was visitors. Walking over to his mirror, he fastened his top shirt button and straightened his tie. He headed for the front door and opened it as the county sheriff climbed out of his car. Gyp slipped past him, ran into the office, and then ran out again, bounding up the stairway, carrying his trophy rag in his mouth.

  “Morning, Brett.”

  “Good Morning, what brings you over here?”

  “You know....”

  Shaw didn’t know. He walked over to his mailbox and took out a letter.

  “Just came for a chat. See how things are,” he said and they shook hands.

  “Coffee’s fresh, come on in,” said Shaw.

  His mind raced as he made his way to his desk and sat. The county sheriff was unlikely to have travelled a distance just to chat. Shaw chewed on his Biro top. The county sheriff put his hat on the stand and walked over to pour a coffee.

  “So how’s the case progressing with the vet?”

  “Fine, just waiting for forensics and the autopsy report. Then I can start following up leads.”

  The county sheriff pulled up a chair to the desk and sat facing Shaw. He took a sip of his coffee, not taking his eyes off Shaw.

  “Anything we can help with?”

  “No, I’ll manage.”

  The county sheriff rested an elbow on the desk and stroked his chin.

  “You sure? Only I’ve had a phone call. Seems a though there may be a health question to resolve.”

  “Hell, you’re not here to have a go about the burger van.”

  The county sheriff laughed and sat back.

  “No, not public health. Your health. The burger van was a smart move, even though it had us all laughing back at county.”

  Shaw noticed his pulse rate increase. His contract called for immediate termination on health grounds if it meant his mind would be impaired. Grimes wouldn’t need three months’ notice for an election. Shaw wondered which spiteful townie was stirring trouble for him. The last thing he wanted was to be suspended. He’d lose all access to police records to follow up on Ted, and whatever or who was behind the vet’s death.

  “My health’s fine.”

  “So you’re not drinking?”

  Shaw hesitated, but he was thankful that he could tell the truth.

  “No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and breathed out. “Can you smell drink?”

  “Well, no.”

  Shaw held out his hands.

  “Are my hands shaking?”

  “Hell, no.”

  “There you are then.”

  “Listen, you know how it is, nothing personal, but we have a job to do. I’ve arranged for a medical on Wednesday.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed Shaw a sealed envelope. “The details are in there.”

  Shaw racked his mind for who may have the most to gain if he was unable to follow up on the vet’s death.

  “Who called you? It would have to be someone you’d take notice of to arrange the medical without talking to me first.”

  “You know I can’t say.”

  “It’s the mayor isn’t it, Ed Grimes.”

  He didn’t have to answer. It was there in his eyes, and an uncomfortable shuffle on his seat.

  “Listen, you look fine to me, so there’s no question of suspension. But you know the rules. Just take the medical.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Well, yeah, try not to take it to heart. We all have to face politics interfering in our jobs. It goes with the badge.”

  His words were as near to an answer as he needed. The county sheriff rose from his seat and offered his hand. Shaw took his hand and they shook.

  “Right, I’ll let you get on with business,” the county sheriff said, and releasing his grip, he walked over to retrieve his hat from the stand, then ambled out through the door.

  Shaw heard the outside door open and then close. He closed his eyes, then buried his head in his hands. Shaw felt something nudging his leg and looked down. He saw Gyp, still holding the rag. He patted his dog on the head.

  “We won’t let them beat us, will we, boy?”

  Gyp dropped his rag comforter. Shaw picked up the rag and placed in on his desk. Gyp settled at his feet, as if sensing it wasn’t game time. The Brett Shaw in him wanted to march over to the main street and to punch Ed Grimes, telling him to stick the sheriff’s badge up is ass. Luckily, the sheriff in him took precedence. Cuffing him now and giving him a little jail time in his drunk tank would be revenge. He needed more facts before he knew it would be worth bringing him in for questioning.

  He glanced at the letter on his desk. It had the logo ‘Elton Investments’ printed on the front. The contents could be his ticket out of there. He opened the envelope and read the statement. It wasn’t what he’d expected. His five-year investment from the proceeds of the sale of his home in LA, and the money from his wife’s life insurance, had netted him a profit one dollar and fifty-two cents. A least it wasn’t a loss. There was enough to see Amy through university, with enough to buy a home back in LA. But it wasn’t the pot of gold that he’d hoped for. He couldn’t think about retiring just yet. Getting fired wouldn’t help with any plans he may come up with for his future. He’d need references.

  Shaw stood and walked over to his filing cabinet. The drawer screeched open as he tugged at the handle. Dipping his hand behind a row of files, he pulled out his JD bottle. He opened it, and put the neck opening to his nose. Shaw could have downed what remained in one at the smell of an old familiar aroma. He wanted to down it in one. Instead, he replaced the top and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He opened his closet and retrieved a second bottle from inside a shoebox. Turning to his bed, he knelt and fished out another bottle from underneath. He walked to the kitchen sink, then emptied the contents of them all down the drain, discarding the empties in the garbage bin.

  “Right Mr. Ted, or whatever your name is, let’s find out what game you’re playing.”

  He walked with a sense of purpose back to his office. Firing up his computer, he took a seat at his desk. Shaw accessed criminal records and typed in the name, Stewart Harvey. He filled in the date of birth section, and then rested his finger on the mouse with the cursor on the screen hovering over the send icon. He clicked the mouse and waited. The message came back with nothing found, but at the bottom of the screen, he noticed a flashing FBI link. He activated the link. A page appeared with Stewart Harvey’s image smiling back at him. It was Ted and no mistake. Above the picture there was a caption.

  “Wanted for questioning in connection with hacking government agency computers and fraud,” he read aloud.

  He saw a telephone number and a reference number below his image. Shaw jotted it down on his call list and closed the screen to open his e-mails. His e-mail file was empty. He looked at his list of calls to make and interviews to arrange. They were all at least a day early. He needed the forensics report before the most important interviews. Chances were that they hadn’t received the outlet valve from the fire investigator to check for prints. Shaw clicked on the FBI icon to bring their page back on screen. The guy grinning before his eyes had made a fool of his daughter. Calling the FBI and denying him the pleasure of taking into custody didn’t appeal to Shaw’s sense of personal justice. It wasn’t as though he was a murderer on the loose, and lives depended on his capture. In any event, Amy was out of his clutches until Tuesday. In Shaw’s mind, it was time to pay him a visit.

  Gyp wasn’t for moving. Shaw set off to his car, and then headed to Amy’s boyfriends home. His mind hit autopilot on the short journey. He braked gently. A row of mailboxes signaled he had arrived. Shaw turned onto the narrow graveled road. Set in woodland, there was a group of ten or so log cabins at spacious inte
rvals, mostly rented by tourists in the summer months. The one he was looking for was further along and set on the hillside. The road turned into a rutted track along a gentle slope, and then leveled out with a gravel parking lot to the front of the cabin. If he was at home, Shaw knew that Ted would hear him arrive. Shards of stones pinged off the underneath of his car as he came to a halt. There was a familiar white pickup outside in need of a wash, but no black SUV. Shaw climbed out of his car. He could hear the sound of someone hammering around back. Shaw ambled around to the back yard. Mike from the hardware store was driving a nail into a length of picket fence.

  “Hi, Sheriff,” he said, and stopped work, wiping his rag across his brow. “You any nearer on finding out what caused the vet’s death.”

  “Still waiting for the autopsy report. Where’s Ted?”

  “LA. Not due back until Tuesday.”

  Shaw noted the coincidence.

  “Has he taken his dog with him?”

  “No, he’s gotten rid of it. Says he was tired of it breaking out through the fence, and his girlfriend didn’t like it. Says it scared the crap outta her. I don’t think his neighbors were too pleased either. That’s why I’m here fixing his fence and installing cameras. Says he only kept the dog for security.”

  “What breed was it?”

  “Mixed. Not sure with what. Nasty old thing it was. Maybe a cross between a Husky and the devil, or whatever. Its bright-blue eyes were damned spooky, I’ll tells ya that. Lived out back here.”

  “Was it a big dog?”

  “Bigger than a German Shepherd and stockier. Way stockier. Around a hundred and forty pounds of pure muscle I’d say. Why?”

  “Just wondered what it was that scared my daughter that’s all. She usually likes dogs.”

  “Oh, sorry. So Ted’s seeing Amy?”

  He didn’t need reminding.

  “Yeah, you could say that. Did he say why he was going to LA?”

  “Just said he had business to attend.”

  Shaw wondered if that business included seeing Amy.

  “Is the door open? I could do to use the bathroom.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think he’ll mind. Hell’s teeth, you’re almost one of the family. Watch the wiring though. I haven’t finished installing the cameras.”

  He scoffed inwardly at the ‘family’ remark. It was a stark reminder of how things could have played out. Shaw opened the picket fence gate and walked in through the back door. He passed through the kitchen and into the living area. Stepping on a rug in front of a log-burning stove, the floorboards creaked. He entered a corridor at the far side of the room and noticed three doors. A bedroom door and the bathroom door were open. He walked to the closed door and grabbed the handle. It was locked.

  Shaw stepped into the bathroom, flushed the toilet, then headed back to the living area. He expected someone of his age to have it furnished as a man cave. It wasn’t ostentatious for an alleged fraudster. Shaw glanced around. There was an old pine dining table and chairs, together with a brown leather sofa that had seen better days. Something was missing that would have made it a home. There were no photographs, or mementos anywhere in sight. No stacks of mail tucked on any shelves. For someone supposedly adept with computers, there wasn’t even a laptop in the room. Shaw hurried outside.

  “Thanks, Mike. Appreciated.”

  Shaw wiped his hands down his pants for effect. Mike tipped a salute, then carried on hammering. His cell phone rang as he walked to his car. Shaw dipped his hand in his jacket pocket and took out his phone. Frank’s name appeared on the screen and he answered.

  “Hi, Frank. Why not use the radio?”

  Frank’s reply garbled as he lost his signal and then it returned.

  “I have a witness. Didn’t want it broadcasting—”

  “Frank... Frank, Damn.”

  With the signal lost, he climbed onto his seat. His radio speaker crackled.

  “Red Fox two to, Blue Leader, see you at base around twelve thirty, over.”

  “Rodger that, Blue Leader, over and out.”

  Shaw turned the key in the ignition. A witness to what?

  Chapter 22

  MONDAY, twelve o’ clock. Amy and Louise approached the IN-N-OUT burger bar on Gayley Avenue a short walk from the UCLA Medical Center. They could hardly miss it from the description they had been given, with its bright red and yellow painted, modern angular architecture. They entered through the glass door and stood in line at the counter.

  “What do you want?” Amy asked.

  “Not sure. Maybe I’ll have a double cheeseburger, large fries, and a strawberry milkshake. No, make that a single with small fries. I want to look my best for when Johno awakes.”

  “Sounds good, I’ll have the same.”

  Amy gave their order to the cashier.

  “Why do you think the surgeon wanted to see Johno’s parents?” Amy said.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll soon find out when we meet them outside the hospital. Are you still going back to your Aunt Mary’s when I go with them to book into the hotel?”

  “Yeah, the blue bus stops outside the hospital. I’m seeing Ted late tonight and he’s taking me back home in the morning. But this afternoon, I need to spend time with Auntie. I love to hear all the stories about Mom when they were growing up.”

  “Yeah, I heard some of them yesterday. It sounds like you and me when they were younger.”

  They picked up their order from the counter and walked outside.

  “There’s an empty table on the terrace. Let’s sit there,” Louise said.

  Amy pulled out a chair and sat opposite Louise. She studied Louise. Her face was drained of color, and the whites of her eyes were bloodshot. The stress was there for all to see.

  “Listen, are you sure you don’t mind me going back tomorrow? I’d see you tonight, but it’s such a distance,” said Amy.

  “No, honestly, I’ll be fine. Johno’s mom was saying this morning that his dad is going home tomorrow afternoon, because he has to work. I think she’s angling for me to go with him. It was an awkward conversation really, but she made sense. She was saying that it’s not like we’re waiting for him to come out of his coma unaided and our voices may help. I don’t think the nurses like us being their either.”

  “Yeah, I got that feeling once they induced the coma. So do you think you’ll go home tomorrow?” Amy said.

  “Not sure. I mean she makes sense, but still—” Amy noticed Louise’s eyes moisten as she faltered. “It... it feels as though I’d be deserting him.”

  Louise used her napkin to dry her eyes. Amy reached out, took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “You could come back with Ted and me. Let me know what you decide.”

  “I will,” Louise said, and then nibbled on a single fry.

  “Not hungry?”

  “No, my stomach’s churning. I know he’s in safe hands, but I can’t help picturing his face and all those tubes. God, I don’t want to lose him.”

  Amy was a loss as to what to say. She didn’t think that owning up to having her own visions of him would help. Especially the vision of Johno when he’d screamed at them to go away. She had given all the words of comfort she could muster over the past few days. Words couldn’t change the situation. They reality was that there was nothing either of them could do by being at his bedside. She was just pleased she had been there for her. Amy took hold of her hand once more.

  “I know, hon, but he’ll be fine.” Amy said. “Listen, if you do decide to go home tomorrow, you can sleep at my apartment if you want.”

  “We’ll see. I’ll keep in touch.” Louise glanced at her wristwatch. “I think we should walk back to the hospital to meet his parents. I can’t wait to find out what’s been said.”

  Amy released her hand. They picked up their milkshakes and set off walking. As they turned right onto Le Conte Avenue, Amy wondered how she would feel if it were Ted lying in a coma. How would they find his parents? She couldn‘t tell them
where to contact them. He never spoke of his parents other that they lived abroad. She didn’t even know which country. Would she be the only one standing vigil at his bedside? Would they even allow her to see him as she wasn’t a relative? The realization struck that her feelings were stronger than she had given credit for to their relationship. The last thing on her mind would be to leave him alone to his fate. Amy had a better sense of where Louise’s mind was at, and the turmoil she must be going through. She ditched her milkshake in a garbage can, then linked arms with Louise.

  They approached a crosswalk at green and hurried to the other side of the highway, snickering as if they were two schoolchildren experiencing something new and exciting for the first time.

  “Don’t you just hate the traffic here,” Louise said.

  “I wouldn’t want to be driving down here, I know that much,” said Amy, and then laughed. “It’s going to be a bit of a culture shock at university after the wilds of Breakers Pass.”

  They arrived at their destination, a side entrance to the UCLA Perinatal Group, and took a seat on a concrete bench.

  “They’re here,” Louise said, and pointed.

  Amy stood as their car approached and parked in a meter bay. They rushed over and Louise called through the open window to Johno’s mom.

  “What did the surgeon say?”

  “He’s responding well. They reckon his swelling has stabilized and they can start to bring him out of his coma in seven days. Now hurry, get inside. We don’t want a ticket.”

  Louise turned to Amy and they embraced.

  “I’ll call you,” Louise said, “Thanks for being here for me.”