A rising-darkness:
...Heading East, the terrain, and a snowy-journey…
The focus, on David Garr in what was statements, was essential. Bo and David were to face ‘cards’ on differing ‘ends’… Bo, the ‘King of Spades’ and his-adversary was a low-capture. He, had to out-manage David’s elusive-power of cunning. To focus on David, as to how it meant to divert the much dynamics, and ‘deal’ himself-in. The elusive Garr could bid-out, or cover… He-was quite an evasive, individual. In the month-long crime every APB in the nation, had been activated; and Bo Jon, was not the most power-player, in the game-of a pursuit.
His-intentions had to ‘quail’, in what was the over-borne staff on the case, for only so long. The U.S.-DA were officially, on the case, and within hours, and on other-days; someone in the ‘cast’ would come-up with something. In what was a central-’synod’, that would prove that David was a ‘Most-wanted’; with the show-broadcasting in every home; his face, and background... David however, had greatly, a ‘bittersweet-chocolate’ of an inhibited-injunction.
Avarice, was a hard-thing to beat, and the D.A. played it to the hilt. There would be no place to turn, as ‘river-dogs’ would force David into ‘the bog’ or have him in a hold, somewhere… Jon was considering, the actuation of the ‘crime’, a ‘manhunt’ that would destroy him; egalitarianism, people would quite, pathetically up-end David, undoing in-all of what had been a case of-abrupt, ‘VERITAS’.
It had rarely, happened but person’s entire-lives were set-in and laid-in the influences of strangers. So Bo Jon reviewed, the segment of a charter and travels of incrimination; being sown-in media, at the bench, and by investigators... ...His case had been established, in Nevada where his last-residence was and the in-fold of personal-account, leading-to proving the case. With everyday, the case grew more supplanted…
Bo Jon was used to this, yet in his cards lay the ‘trump’... Finding David; structuring and refining a case, Bo Jon knew the charges, in segments... He had to reassert what was into a-trial, consisting and subdividing away from the allusions which tended to be compounded. The ’centralities’, in what was a-failing, in a purveying. Yet to be a set-trial depending more on a slide-rule science. In what was a Radcliffe-numeration and ostentation several legalist were working, waking in the-trial of David C. Garr. Probably, people of impressions, self-serving, subversive and of consumptive-influences, ‘predating’ basic-rule.
Priority, being set in that the people by high-order could be already setting into sway, to be a collective. Their guises, being by a ‘human-edict’. Now, most people(including jurist; seldom, were implicit-in…), leading to a mutative-‘being’. This, a ‘lecturing’-reality, in ‘fast’ accords, determined-recompense and character. Yet the courts acted in a life’s holding. A ‘pluribus’-segmental, that it was classically, called by a legalism... But being in an un-conducing that lay-people enacted, outside-of this…
So as a humor and a dishonorable-inquests in what were originating the ‘simplex’ of gravity and gallant; in statutory, playing-out in the ‘elusive’-winds of wherewithal and warding, set… Out-maneuvering and by a methodology, was Bo Jon’s calculative-‘Rook’; come to be perished, understanding and of issue. It was a ‘game’, Bo Jon was good-at. Seminal-sobriety, was almost as actual as a perplexity, in extent and extenuation; among which a tentative of the case would be materialized.
Bo Jon was on the phone-with his adjuncts; forming and reaffirming as best he could, in the actuaries he could evince. Bo was no ‘lucky’-cookie, he-was good, yet the winds-of change, swayed. After getting-off the phone. His contacts were doing all they could. ‘Bo Jon, I understand the edge-of this new-‘evanescence’, but this fellow: Garr, he is easily, a prosecutorial, ‘slam-dunk”... ‘But I still have pull-with the Circuit-judge that might be a ‘substance’ on the case…’ Bo Jon gave his contentions, and their rated-‘points’ in what was an allaying-compliance. Falling into place, was the overall-plan. ...He had to be specific, but his ideas had fell-on consigning-ears. Each new-endowment had an ‘edifice’, in what was an accounting-incursion...
Bo then, reactivating the growing-plausibles and scheme... Enforcing-in the few ‘loose-ends’, was ever-becoming straightened, in a pursuit. …Masters in Economics, Bo Jon was using draw/build-theories, tables and laws; on how to both reach an end-point-in a sizeology, teleology, chancing and gainful-calculus... In the docent of a contemplative conclusion. So was the time-honored, philosophy of a committed-conclusion. In an obligate-order and theory-estimation, and personifying-perspectives, that could deliver-the desired-result; if and only if, you came to competently, ‘predict’; with a clause what was usually, close-to an accurate-assumption.
For most this came with much work. Bo knew how to do so, and knew most of the varying-equations. He first, wanted to gather his ‘variables’. And some attention-to-detail and in a detached, overall-viewpoint... He knew the Courts were in-limbo and David was within the active logical-lamina; thus ‘perspective’, was in the all inclusive-‘roots’. One thing Bo was to do was put himself-in and not count David Garr’s actions-out… Therefore the semantic issue, was hypothetically, in an intentful-insouciance. ...Which lent-toward action, and in each action; rendering a reaction, and in-turn, cause inordinate-counteract… He was collecting upon on most all the variables.
David was a ‘Most-Wanted’, he knew he’d be caught… He wanted to head-east to Oklahoma and oil-fields there. …Traveling, through the deserts and sheep-country, cotton fields and open-terrain; ending in Texarkana were he decided to go have a beer at a road-house. The snows of early Fall were about to occur. Usually, the Fall had warmth in the South but the weather which David had studied intensely, meant rain and moisture was going to be coming.
He wanted to be out of the area within two-weeks. He met some cotton-farmers. ‘We, have good cotton this year…’ ‘...We’re needing all cotton-seed loaders and drivers...’ Luckily, he could drive a shift-truck and off-loader. His military-career in survival meant working with heavy-equipment. He drove the cotton-loader. Making $80.00 a day. He made friends who spent their lives working cotton. Some made good money. And after work, they’d head for Tom’s Steakhouse, a well kept restaurant. They all had dinner with their-families. David said he didn’t have a family so Paul Winston the owner, adopted him.
He got to know his new-friend's wife and daughters. Sheila Winston was 26, a college-student and her father’s eldest daughter. She was very pretty, she liked David. They got to know each other, he told her about the mountains of Washington. How the trees were beautiful and how he’d go skiing with his parents. David was much older than her but he didn’t look that old.
Slightly graying-hair a handsome face, tall and well-built. They would go out after dinner to watched the stars… ‘So, where are you from?’ ‘Nevada, I chose Nevada because the land is open, and you can ski.’ He didn’t go into much detail but he seemed endearing. ‘I would like to go there.’ She said, she was still at Oklahoma University she and her-friends would go to the country, to take day-trips. She liked the country, ‘I guess I’m a country-girl’… He told her, college is important. She wanted to be a teacher. She loved kids as she had taken care of her younger sisters. She asked him if he was ever-married. He said no, and that he spent much of his-time as a worker. He didn’t have time for marriage.
And that he was on his way to Georgia and wouldn’t be there long. They enjoyed each-others company. But David had other concerns. He’d grown a beard and mustache and had combed his hair back. After six-weeks he left his job, at the regret of his boss. Who’d offered him a raise to stay. He’d done a great-job… David had his own worries. He knew they were after him. Practical-things had now, taken-over… Life had a strange, ‘twists-of-fate’. Sheila was beautiful and sweet, yet he knew a relationship wouldn’t workout.
It had been a long-time since he’d been with a women. His whole-life had
been ‘service’. His brother, the Navy and the government; he-dedicated most of his-life, for the care of others. He was proud, yet he-knew he’d missed-out on something, special. As he-loaded the truck he’d bought he said goodbye to Ms. Winston and rode-off. He rode down the dusty-road, East-through Arkansas. He was determined to reach the East-coast. Where he could at last-end a story, as he’d committed a lethal-act…
He-wanted to see the ocean. The farthest-shores, where the last-vestige of America’s story, had begun. He’d moved West with his family, but while a child-made friends and had-to move… He’d still remembered his young friends, then. They’d long, moved away but he remembered the security of a mother and father, a nice home, and living comfortably.
He’d almost, forgotten a now terse-memory. He knew the last of his family, C.T., could make-it on his own but he-wanted to return to his-roots. He’d remembered, how he gave-up the last of his personal-comfort for others in a nostalgic, left-behind ‘past’... David had out-run even the best crime-solvers. Yet in a large country he was still un-captured. He was reaching a level-of destitution. Bo had decided in his chase of him, it was to be delineated-by ‘caustic’; and characteristics; an impetus-to salacious-aversion and averted, enlisting in what was high-ordered, basics in police law-books.
Law enforcement, tended to be ‘section’-alized... And it off-sets legal-issues of proof, and statement. Bo Jon began his search in Arizona, after learning that the driver of the truck had let him off-there. He had not been seen since. Which usually, meant he’d changed his features or made detour, in ‘incognito’. His records had all been sequestered, including credit card, line-of-money and all records... His last-action was purchasing close-by, along a shopping-strip on the other side of the Sierra Nevadas. He was smart, but also ‘lucky’… Bo once thought maybe he had an elaborate-plan.
Yet he knew as an officiate; that the very, terminus often put an askew-in being typical. The search was redirected to Nevada, then to Arizona. He’d been through Arizona, and as they had come-up with a lead in Nevada. He had thought he'd went South from Arizona, that would put him in New Mexico. But a 56-day old APB, meant he’d found refuge, or moved-on.
...Moving-on had two ‘realities’, he-was successful in finding devising or he reached a new desperate-level; that he’d been driven to perhaps a further lawlessness... Bo had studied David, he was no ‘shirker’. He did most things by the book. Thus, as time went-on things probably, got complicated and new issues, most likely, meant re-assessing his personal-stature... So Bo started-to stipulate and insinuated circumstances, in readjusting-analogy.
In-perception and surmising; starting by a re-assimilating of David’s scenario… Dimensions, along an honored-extenuation. For the formative-issues were to be a reformation-enlistment. Purpose, propriety and proven-elicit and of what was an categorical ‘élan’; by the fugitive, in the provisions-of a law’s context… Theory, that was in-factor encompassing a composite-contending. That was in an exception, about the ‘law-breakers’: is he between ‘facet’ and figment, might have been adjured-too often. So an re-insinuating and inferring, by what was place, prerogative and perception. One-thing about re-analyzing; two out of three-times the motis, can deviate.
Bo, rationalized in diminutive; the essence, ‘in-situ’ of a careful reassessment… He listened-to radio-reports over the three states he traveled. There were few parallels, other than space and time. Several times the instances were by elements of tacitness, that had dealt an uneven-hand by mental apprehension; that were fostering, blocks and biases that were dimensionally and aversively, in an technical ad hoc.
This was in a perpetuity, in-action. An artificially, induced-comprehension that easily, lulls law-enforcement into dis-ingenuous-strayings. He heard as much personal views as professional-conceptions; idealized, in a faction of a comprising. Many officers that have possibly, thought he was an ordinary-assailant. Bo-decided to play ‘catch-up’, out-reviewing gathered-evidence that he’d attained on his-own. Thus, Bo began again with his own deductions.
Of time, test and trial he was to re-scheme the questions, evidence and in actuality, was seen as being ‘portrayed’ …Jesse Fores was the first to sight him as personal-witness statement, he was getting-out of a trash-dumpster. ...He probably, received a wide-policing-division that came-in from Washington, heading-to Los Angeles. David Garr chose his direction of travel and probably, conductively, expected-it. That meant the ‘mode’, was hitch-hiking and walking, he'd questioned many people along the way of the point-of-change.
Bo marked this as ‘exhibit-A’, then questioning people at roadside-outlets; they said they knew of no-hitch-hikers getting off trucks in the vicinity... ‘A-detour’ then, he-listened to a police-dispatch for any apprehensions or sightings in any evidence, proctoring about David as being anywhere from a last-sighting.
That too, turned-up nothing. Then, as he arrived in Texas; the farthest from the ‘loop’, he heard no insinuation as of an arrest. Yet here, there were many secluded, out-of-the-way former-businesses, and oil-rigs. Bo marked this as ‘evidence-A’ as a preliminary lay-out. He’d seen many truck-stops along the way. That would then be the fact of ‘plenty’, the actuality the many-things subverting, the reality of ‘one’.
He-marked this as ‘proposal-one’… Gathering facts and figures, he deduced David was somewhere between Texas and Oklahoma in the passed-weeks. Now, a used time-frame, meant he’d found safe-haven; and that haven didn’t know who he-was, with him now a ‘most-wanted’, the F.B.I. declaratively, was closing off what were any loose-ends… If David traveled fast, he needed a hiding-place somewhere within a region, ever-so often and the elements-of seclusion meant he’d need to move vectorially and symmetrically away-from social-exposure.
Bo toured the roads through Arizona, Texas and into Oklahoma. There were 12-roads criss-crossing them all and they went through low population-areas… This entailed ‘proving’ of detail, where the roads collected and had expansions. Bo figured, somehow in east-ward-migration he’d been seen or went relatively, ‘unseen’.
In what was a presumptive, difference. A strange delecto of geographic terms on evanescence of land’s errantness; that could be compiled-into valued-information. Bo acted-in exacting-precision, having out-evidenced the compiling investigative-data conciting, expedition. Bo-was conferring an implement, in-reverence and a residual-proffering.
Deliberated-innuendo that had it, he-was still somewhere in Texas or Oklahoma, or near-there. ...He’d interpret the data, as leanings-toward residing-precipice. ...Perhaps, a ‘convoking’ stake-out. If David was still in-area he was hiding-in ‘plain’-sight. He decided to go where such people could reside. Perhaps somewhere along the car-hops, road-houses and migrant-communities. They could at least, substantiate a likely contention.
It would be a week-long expedition and he had to blend-in. -He knew of one, below typical-reality which would ‘best’ resemble an unknown, under-class. Skilled-in some portrayals, he-went to the least-average, most obvious-population community. Dressed-in old-jeans, a leather-vest and his hair pony-tailed, dark-glasses and jack-boots. He-looked intimidating in lower-class but his job was to fit-in, as easy as possible. He looked-backward, from Oklahoma to Arizona in a Pygmalion-audacity hoping-to be framing a certain-‘motive‘. The men at the bar looked-in Bo’s direction as he walk-in the Lucinda Bar and Grill.
An intimidating-presence. ‘Hey, dude give me a finger of-Whiskey, straight.’ The guys at the bar, relaxed. ‘Hey, Buddy, ain’t seen you here before.’ ‘Where you from?’ ‘…Arizona, by way of Arkansas.’ ‘You’ve been in mid-east, whereabouts?’ ‘Little Rock, got kin there.’ ‘Hey, you’re an InJin…where’s your squaw?’ Said a guy at the end of the counter. Bo kept, talking. He walked-up to Bo. ‘Hey, you answer me Injin-Joe’…he shouted.
Bo pulled a 12-inch Bowie-knife from his-boot and stuck-it in the bar counter-standing it ‘st
raight-up’. ‘Hey okay, okay I’m sorry…’ ‘Don’t want no-trouble.’ The bartender asked him was there anything he-wanted. ‘I’m looking for a guy, not your average Joe; six-foot, mid-weight, well-built…’ Bo had to give him specifics he gave him what he’d learned from his-dossier. “A burn-on his upper-arm.
He had to be ‘superstitious’, because as easily as Bo exposed him; so he could have been found-out… He left a picture and a number he told him there’d be a ‘fifty’ in-it. Money, always seemed to talk-best. He stayed around until-nightfall. He then drove-to the truck-stop at Clintock, Oklahoma he’d known of the fiascos-there, and the cops always seemed-absent probably, because everyone kept the serious stuff-private.
Some of his best-friends hanged-out in places like these before cleaning their act up or unfortunately someone, doing-it for them. He made a few more stops, by morning. He stop at an out-of-the-way, on the main-road to Texas… ‘Yeah, I’ve seen him about three-four weeks ago.’ ‘Driving a motor-bike.’ ‘He’d seemed a strange kind of ‘worn’. ‘...What I thought was strange was he didn’t have anyone with him came-in, had coffee looked-over his-bike at the garage, and took-off.
He asked which direction he’d came, and went. Bo had a-lead, but a weak-one. He immediately retook his steps. All the way back to Oklahoma. He could have been in the Delta by now… Bo had to do some proficient, case-study. He had a bike(trans.), had money surely, less than in Los Angeles. He heard from the truck-driver that he was ‘working’ and he let him off in the Sierra Nevadas-range there were only several-places a motor-bike could be bought.
He had gas, money without a bank account, he must have-worked. Bo decided to find a hotel, in Arizona. By afternoon, he’d found the dealer, ‘I remember him, in his forties or fifties didn’t mind ‘the bike’-worn, used; took to it fast, really deliberate..’
He asked him how he paid. ‘Small-bills’, he then said the kind around here given to migrant workers. He was astute, quite the insightful, business-man. The fields had been harvested, weeks-ago. Everyone had moved-on, he-inquired into any Caucasian workers at the farms owner’s house the third-was an ‘affirmative’.
‘He, was a good, hard-worker probably down-on-his-luck.’ ‘He was real-nice and polite.’ He said after-harvest, he headed-East:‘Bingo’. He brought-in the authorities, to do much ground-work as possible… Bo went immediately, to Oklahoma but he was already, gone. The oil-fields were probably his ‘last-refuge’; also, sparse and welcoming… He’d been an oil truck-loader. How many truly talented men finding, home and job without being seen by the authorities.
America was indeed the ‘Land-of Opportunity’. Convinced he-might get away, he had an APB elliterated from Oklahoma to Tennessee… He had truly, been fortunate or perhaps, his honor and duty was paying him back. David had flourished in his run from the police. Indefinitely, he’d made a ‘new-life’ for himself. Virtually, edging-out any need-for capture…
Bo knew David reached a point-of resolve. He-figured the ‘syndrome’ had receded, perhaps in the throe of things his mentality, had returned. Perhaps in the dense forest of his evading police in Washington-state the circumstance of reality jerked-him back into common sense-that logic being the escape, for survival. How a determinant of duty would turn to freedom, in essence, freed from the ‘chains’-of-Chittle...
Bo felt acknowledging, of what had accrued; too many men came home with the war still going-on in their heads. Most had nightmares for years, and some could not escape the prison of loneliness and fear. The military-duty oriented the men as a necessity of war and after-math; reliving it as a duty to their-superiors. David was an officer, he-dealt with ‘war’ and destruction daily, and did it without question. The leader-into the battle.
...And his record was impeccable and sometime after home-side, he clicked. David went to war again with fire-fighting, a bestowed office of U.S.F.S. It was strange that pyrotechnics and forest-fighting came-together…
He reinforced war of-the-mind eventually, on both-accounts. On them, he had handled both, courageously… Yet in every man, a saving-grace. The good of a man baring dual-imposition. Somewhere along the line he snapped, and it all came into play. Bo couldn’t decide on why David did what he did. Life, gave you cards and how you played were always suspect… The games laid had meant the death of five earnest-men.
Good and brave; cut-down by-one of their exhibiting, own… David had become downed and he had-to pay for that. It was no illusion, that he-was put in-charge and that the many men in-charge were put there to espouse the formative law against ardent-reprehension. It was a strange-scenario one of the government’s own reputative-consignors, which had committed an act of disregard… His superiors were now on a manhunt.
Bo Jon had observed these designate men ‘polished’, permute and purposely, pretentious; allotted time to reassert manual-power, to pretense. A head would now roll, and the circumstance-quailed. They had to bring it to a conclusion. No doubt they covered the situation over with Bo’s contemporaries, giving-in...
They had knowledge of Bo, being on the case. A strange stand-off of ‘crux’ and crucible. Men like them act accordingly to bring the situation to an end. He avoided their radar. Going-in, and getting-out. 'Bo, they’re moving fast, they’ve questioned-me, and now they called and put a hold-on information passing, out of offices of legal-process…' -He knew he didn’t have much time it was imminent that they catch up-with Bo’s ‘free-hand’…
The federals have a way-of procuring, and having free-range, sometimes-against their-favor in the legal_‘malay’; Bo used this in his-favor. David turned-up in Oklahoma City. He was dressed in slacks, a Cardigan and casual shirt and heavy Oxfords, he was driving a red-Honda truck. He’d bought-used. It was cool and his AC worked somewhat. At a motel, he set-up to stay. He’d heard that the police was narrowing their searching to Texas and Arizona.
He stayed in the city long enough to buy the things he needed. He’d made over $2,000.00 at the oil fields. The skies were grey and the wind-blew, it was where he could find travel equipment. As the sunset, he got familiar with the City a large population in Northeastern part of the state… He enjoyed the bustling-region.
But it was no-time to invite a vacation. It had been one of the best time since childhood’s over-assumption; then, was naiveté and self-revelry. When his Dad made in-roads, for him… Smart, precocious and a sound-child… He’d been a military-child; traveling around the world and getting to know other cultures and places. His-brother had just been born when they decided it was time to settle-down.
He thought that settling in Massacheusetts was too much, but he made friend’s quickly as socially, he had made a competent, young-student. He graduated in ‘69 a time of strife in American-culture… David had began his definition of things early, then graduated at 16; degree at 20, as his father, to enter the military. He-enjoyed the seas so he joined U.S.N.G. as a Lt. Commander after R.O.T.C. in college at Princeton then Annapolis…
He played golf, having a 62 handicap and a 4.02 GPA-graduating, entering U.S.N.G. Command as a munitions-level, Lt. Commander. He-entered to protect his country as much of the culture was-waning. He learned-fast and by ’73, he was a ’fully’, installed at the Macon Delta. He was so good, he out-matched his-fellows. But now ’security’, safety and service had turned a corner.
He remembered all those formative years. He was on a hill in the city, he still had his psyche; when in the-present, he was living in over-sight trying to find what was an instance… A relevance no longer attached to order and offensive. No detente of discipline was so enactuated, long ago. It had all seemed ‘superfluous’. And his parents, any-memories of hard and orderly-life...
He reminisced on life, of order and ingénue; once, the definition of his faculties. Once. Now-acting in ordinance of deliberacy, this time to establish ground-of ‘detreatise’, once seminal and arduous. David knew what had carried him thro
ugh his life, into an ode and ordinance; now gave him confirmatory and disciplinary, division…
End.
Seven
..‘Dutch’, the oil-fields, and Del Rey Dominion.
Resolve, reflection and resignation…
Sequoia Trail-A Bo Jon Littlehorse P.I. Novel. Second Edition Page 14
