by Nora Kane
Looking at the tire tracks, however, Margot could see some semblance of a trail that could be accessible with a four-wheel drive, which the truck most likely was and her car was definitely not. Just then, she heard an engine behind her and turned to see an SUV from the sheriff’s department come up the road and stop behind her.
A young deputy got out saying, “What happened to you?”
“I fell through the porch,” Margot explained. She was covered in dirt and her arms were pretty cut up from the fall. She had been so busy trying to stay alive she’d hardly noticed. Now that she had and the adrenalin rush of combat to the death was calming down, the pain began to set in.
The deputy looked like he wanted to ask some more questions but decided that was going to have to do for now and said, “We heard shots.”
“That was me. Does that thing have four-wheel drive?” Margot pointed to his vehicle.
He laughed. “They don’t make these things without four-wheel drive out here.”
“The guy I shot drove Gene’s truck down that trail. We need to follow him.”
“Wait, you shot somebody?”
“He was trying to bash my head in with a two-by-four full of nails. If we hurry, maybe we can catch him.”
“I’m not supposed to leave the crime scene. I could get in trouble just for coming up here to check out the gunshots.”
“Waiting at a crime scene has priority over gunfire?”
“A lot of people own guns and a lot of them like to go out and shoot them in the woods. If I didn’t know you were up here, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it.”
“Okay, but the guy I shot is probably the person responsible for that crime scene you're guarding. I think that makes him the priority.”
“Yeah, I can see that, but instead of us chasing after him, wouldn’t it be easier to radio Sheriff Howser and have somebody waiting at the end of the trail? There’s only one exit, as far as I know. It’s a rough one through there too. If you left now, you could beat them to the other side going around.”
“How would I know that?”
“Good point. Let me radio that in.”
Chapter 7
Margot met Howser at the end of the trail. They left the young deputy guarding the other end in case whoever was driving the truck doubled back. She never would have found this end of the trail if she hadn’t seen Howser’s SUV parked at the end of it. From the road, it just seemed like a random opening among the pine trees. She parked behind him, got out of her car, and climbed in next to him.
“What the hell happened to you?” Howser asked as he looked her over.
“I fell through a porch.”
“Old Man Porter’s? I’m not surprised. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look horrible.”
“Thanks.”
“What I mean is, you should see a doctor and get those cuts cleaned up. Who knows what kind of bacteria was lurking on the old rusty nails Porter used to build that thing.”
“Yeah, well, I want to make sure we nail this guy first.”
“It’s not Gene,” Howser told her, “if you were wondering. He was the body out in the woods. Gene was missing the big toe on his right foot—a lawnmower accident when he was in high school—so it became obvious when they took off his shoe. I guess we’re down to your boy Hayes.”
“Except this guy was taller and he didn’t have any tattoos. Plus he said some things I can’t imagine Hayes saying.”
“You didn’t tell me that part on the phone.”
“A lot happened. At the time he said it, I was concentrating on not getting stabbed, so I kind of forgot about it.”
“What did he say?”
“‘This will make my master proud.’”
“Master? Was he into Kung Fu or something?”
“If he was, he was shitty at it. He got his ass kicked by a girl. If not for Old Man Porter’s rotting porch, I wouldn’t have even had to shoot him.”
“I googled you, you were a pro fighter. Probably could have fought in the UFC if you stayed at it. You’re not just any girl. ”
“No, I’m not just any girl, but I was still fighting out of my weight class and as much as the people charging money to teach that stuff like to tell people differently, the fact is a mediocre big guy is going to win over a great little guy the vast majority of the time. People who are into the martial arts enough to have someone they consider their master usually have more of a clue.”
“Yeah, but in general, people don’t go around digging out people's eyes with knives. I don’t think we should expect this asshole to act normally.”
“You’re right, expecting a nutcase to act logically will bite you in the ass every time. Anybody teach Kung Fu around here?”
“Kung Fu? No. We have Karate and Jiu-Jitsu though.”
“If he was into Karate, he’d say sensei. Jiu-Jitsu could be master if the teacher was kind of pretentious.”
“Mike is pretty much the opposite of pretentious. I doubt this guy is local anyway.”
“Really? He knew about Old Man Porter’s place and this four-wheel drive trail, which isn’t exactly obvious.”
“A lot of four-wheel enthusiasts from all over come up to mess around. Plenty of them know about this trail, and if they know about this trail, then they know about Porter’s place since you drive right by it.”
“Your cousin Gabe invite a lot of these guys over for poker?”
Howser had to think on that for a minute.
“We still don’t know who drove the motorcycle to the poker game,” Margot continued when he didn’t answer. “Did I mention the asshole who tried to kill me was wearing a motorcycle helmet?”
“I think you did say something about that.”
“You knew them and knew their friends. That sound like anybody you know?”
“I can’t say a psychotic, Kung Fu biker rings any bells.”
“With that description, it should be obvious.”
“You’d think so,” Howser said as he checked the time on his phone.
“He should have been here by now. He should have been here a while ago. I don’t see him stopping for a picnic.”
Howser started the car.
“What are you doing?” Margot asked.
“It’s getting close to dark.”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not waiting here for some psycho Kung Fu biker to sneak up on me in the dark. He might not be a good fighter, but he knows something about sneaking up on people. He got the jump on you.”
“So, you're leaving?”
“No, I’m going up the trail.”
“Can you leave me here?”
“I’d rather you came along,” Howser said as he started up the trail. “I might need your help.”
“I don’t know how to say this but…”
“You had a bad experience with a sheriff who took you out to the middle of nowhere?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Same as I knew about the fighting. Google. Did you know there’s a young lady with a YouTube show—”
“—I know all about it and more.”
“I understand your concern, but I’m one of the good guys.”
“You sent me alone to a killer's hideout.”
“Okay, I said I’m good, I didn’t say I was smart.”
They didn’t have to go far before they found the truck.
Margot took her gun, now sporting a full magazine, out of her purse and chambered a round. Howser looked at her but didn’t say anything. He went ahead and got out of the car first before he drew his own weapon. They approached from opposite sides. Margot hung back a little so if they had to start shooting, they wouldn’t be shooting at each other.
Howser opened the driver’s side door and then looked back and shook his head to let Margot know no one was inside. He looked down and found a trail of blood. He followed it to the edge of the trees and stopped.
“You up for a walk in the woods?”
“Do yo
u have a shotgun in your truck?”
“Yeah.”
“Get it and I’ll think about it.”
“You know, I actually like that idea.”
While he went to get the shotgun, Margot checked out the truck. He’d left the motorcycle helmet and a great deal of blood. There was blood on the steering wheel, which made her think she might have winged him with the shot that had shattered the back window.
“This blood’s fresh,” she said as Howser joined her, “he didn’t get far.” She glanced at the shotgun in his hand. “You have two of those?”
“No, but even if I did, you’d have to become a deputy. That’s still on the table, you know.”
“I’m good, thanks.”
“I don’t want you to think less of me,” he said, “but I’m not looking forward to going into those woods.”
“You’re telling me? We don’t have to, there’s plenty of blood to get a DNA sample and I’d bet there’s all sorts of evidence on that helmet. He’s not getting far with a bullet in his foot whether we chase him or not.”
“Yeah, but I saw those bodies back at Gabe’s. Every second he’s out there is a second too long, as far as I’m concerned.”
Margot nodded and they went into the woods.
Howser was good at spotting the blood trail. They hadn’t walked long before he said, “He’s headed for the road.”
“How can you tell?”
“The roads east and we’re headed east.”
Margot nodded; she had no idea which direction they were going.
It wasn’t long before they emerged on the road.
Howser looked around. “The blood isn’t that obvious on the road. He might have even found a ride.”
“With a bullet hole in his foot?”
“He could have said it was an accident. Someone might have believed him.”
Margot nodded. She remembered what the deputy had said about everyone around here owning guns and thought the sheriff was probably right.
The radio on Howser’s shoulder crackled and a deputy said, “Sheriff Howser, over.”
“This is Howser, what do you need?”
“Are your cousin and Davey Polis friends?”
“No, the opposite in fact. Why?”
“We went over to his place and Davey’s Harley is in his garage.”
Howser looked at Margot, cut off his radio, and said, “That explains the bike you saw. I doubt it was Davey though.”
“Maybe someone should check on Davey,” Margot said.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
Howser got back on the radio and instructed, “Meet me at Davey’s place. If you get there first, be careful. I’ve got a bad feeling that if Davey’s not our killer then he’s a victim.” Then he turned back to Margot. “Let’s get back to my truck and get over there.”
“I’m going to pass. I doubt Hayes is at Davey’s place.”
“Margot, do you know how many homicide detectives I have on staff?”
“No.”
“Once you’re deputized, you’ll be the only one.”
“I’m not getting deputized.”
“We’ll see,” Howser remarked as he started back into the woods. When Margot didn’t follow right away, he added, “You still want a ride back to your car, even if you somehow turn me down, don’t you?”
Margot followed Howser back into the woods.
Chapter 8
Like Howser’s cousin Gabe and the late Old Man Porter, Davey Polis lived on an isolated dirt road out of town. There was a different deputy waiting in front of the small house, leaning against his SUV.
“I knocked and called his name, even went around to the back and did the same thing back there. Either he isn’t answering or he’s not home,” the deputy told them as they got out of Howser’s car. When he saw Margot. he tipped his hat, “Nice to finally meet you. I don’t think I’ve ever met a private detective before.”
“Deputy, she’s a deputy,” Howser corrected him.
Margot shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
“It’s not formal yet,” Howser added.
“We should go in,” Margot said. “I think he’s either the main suspect in the murder of three people or he had his bike stolen by a guy who committed a triple homicide, which are both probable causes, if you ask me.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Howser replied.
“Davey is going to be pissed if we kick in his door and he just went into town to get some supplies,” the deputy said.
“If that’s the case, we’ll apologize,” Margot assured him.
“I think the lady has a point,” Howser agreed as he walked up to the door. He knocked hard enough that the door shook and then yelled, “If you don’t answer me, Davey, I’m kicking in the door!”
When Davey didn’t answer, Howser kicked the door right below the handle. He had to do it three times but on the third try, it splintered around the lock and Howser was able to open it the rest of the way with his shoulder.
Margot and the young deputy followed him with their guns drawn. Davey Polis was on the floor in the living room. His eyes were dug out of their sockets and he’d suffered multiple stab wounds.
“I guess we don’t have to worry about pissing him off,” the young deputy said as he leaned close to the body.
Margot moved through the rest of the house with the two men from the sheriff’s department watching her back.
“Did Davey live alone?” she asked as she looked into the bathroom.
“Yeah,” Howser answered.
Margot pointed to the bathroom sink and Howser saw the extra toothbrush. On the floor was a shaving kit.
“I saw a duffle bag on the floor in the living room,” the deputy said. “It did seem an odd place for a bag.”
“Unless someone was sleeping on the sofa,” Howser replied.
Margot went back to the living room. The duffle bag wasn’t zipped shut so she used the barrel of her gun to push it open to allow her a look inside. There was nothing to see but clothes. She noticed the pants folded neatly at the top of the pile seemed to have a wallet in the back pocket.
“Either of you two bring gloves?” Margot asked.
