by Glenn Trust
Ronnie Kupman’s voice answered, “Go ahead, 301.”
“We have a witness with a possible ID on the perp. Need you to meet me.” George didn’t elaborate on which perp. There was only one right now. He read out the address Tommy had given him.
“On my way, 301,” Ronnie responded and then added, “Good work, George.”
Sheriff Klineman, listening on the radio in his car, winced. Great. George again. The hits just kept on coming.
44. “Don’t do it son.”
He watched the big red Freightliner leave the fuel pumps and pull through the parking lot of the truck stop. As it passed his car, he could just see the top of the girl’s head in the passenger seat. He was prepared to follow, waiting for his opportunity. He did not have to wait long.
The truck did not pull onto the highway and head towards the interstate. Instead, the heavyset trucker steered around to the back of the truck stop where there was a large gravel lot full of parked rigs. Some of the drivers were there to catch up on sleep. Others were inside the truck stop relaxing for a while. Henry had his own plans.
The old Chevy followed carefully, the driver watching as the trucker pulled to the farthest end of the lot and parked along the edge where no other truck would be next to him. The big diesel engine clattered and shut off as the air brakes hissed. It was quiet.
Lyn looked at Henry questioningly.
“What are we doing?” Her voice quivered slightly.
Henry turned and stood up, bent over in the space between the two seats.
“Oh, I reckon you know, girl,” he said grinning.
“But you were going to give me a ride north. You said as far as Richmond, then you go west.”
“Yep. I did say that, and I will. But first you gotta pay the fare.”
“Fare? What fare? You said…”
“Listen girl, don’t play dumb. I know young girls like you have done it lots of times. This one more time ain’t gonna hurt nothing. You might even like it. I know I will.” Henry smiled.
“Now climb back there,” Henry said jerking his head towards the sleeper behind the truck cab.
Lyn had tears in her eyes, “No…I just want to go away. You said Richmond. Just…”
Her words were broken off, and she let out a small shriek of pain at Henry’s rough jerk on her arm. Lyn grabbed the seat armrests as the big man pulled.
Pulling his car alongside Henry’s trailer, Lylee walked quietly in the hard packed gravel to the driver’s side and stood outside the truck cab. He could hear the exchange inside. His hand rested on the door handle. At Lyn’s shriek, he jerked it open.
Inside the truck, Henry whirled at the sound of the door opening. He was still standing bent over between the seats with a large hand around Lyn’s upper left arm. As he spun, he nearly jerked her out of the seat. Looking down from the cab, he saw a slight man, his hand resting nonchalantly on the doorframe.
“What the fuck do you want?” He spoke in as threatening a manner as he could muster through his surprise.
Not even a jackal, Lylee thought, just a horny yard dog. “Let her go,” he said simply and firmly.
“What?” Henry was rattled, unaccustomed to being challenged.
“Let the girl go, now,” Lylee said, each word distinct and separate from the others.
Letting go of Lyn’s arm, Henry slid into the driver’s seat and then put his feet on the access step outside the open truck door.
He looked closer at the man holding the door. He was not a large man, but there was a hardness in him. There was something else too. The look on his face wasn’t angry or determined. It was …dangerous.
The man’s eyes were completely focused, on Henry, examining him in an uncomfortable way. The mouth held a barely perceptible grin. Henry sensed that the grin was a warning, telling him that he had already lost. Something in the look also said that he hoped Henry wouldn’t take the warning.
He was dangerous and in control, and Henry knew better as he stood up on the truck step. He knew better, but pride required him to do something.
Looking down at the smaller man, there seemed to be no other choice. Twice now in a day, he was being challenged, first by that bitch, Kathy, at the diner and now by this jerk off. He didn’t particularly want to, but he knew he had to do something or leave and never come back. The look on the smaller man’s face made him hesitate. Finally, he moved.
Stepping tentatively down to the next step, it was instantly apparent that he had made a mistake. The smaller man’s eyes glinted, and the smile flickered and grew broader for just a fleeting moment, like a spark in the breeze.
His arm struck out with the quickness of a striking snake. Henry felt an iron grip take hold of his belt and then jerk with great force. There was nowhere for Henry to go but down.
The big man thudded heavily onto the hard gravel as Lylee stepped deftly to the side. Releasing the door, he took a step to where Henry lay. He was on his side, cradling his left arm. His face was scraped raw from the impact with the gravel and a cut on his forehead dripped blood onto the ground. Bits of sand and gravel clung to the raw scrapes on his face. He was a mess.
Lylee placed a heavy, work-booted foot on the side of Henry’s face and pressed. Henry let out a moan. Lylee knew that with a little more pressure, he could snap the bones in Henry’s cheek and jaw.
“Don’t do it, son.”
Lylee’s head snapped around. Two truckers approached. One was about Henry’s size and build wearing a camouflage ball cap. The other was smaller, shorter than Lylee but with massive forearms.
“What?” Lylee’s tone was sharp and severe. His animal eyes narrowed and focused on the larger of the two.
It was the smaller of the two who replied.
“I said, don’t do it. You made your point. He ain’t gonna bother anyone now.”
Lylee looked down at Henry. The animal rage boiled in his blood. He exhaled slowly, deliberately trying to calm the urges within.
He had made a mistake, and he wasn’t used to making them. Normally thorough and careful, as evidenced by the string of tortured bodies scattered across a dozen states, he had been careless for the second time today.
His first easy success with the girl last night had made him overconfident. The bloodlust was in him, and he was not paying attention. He had been completely unaware of the approach of the two truckers.
He took his booted foot off Henry’s face, turning his gaze to the smaller of the truckers. Lylee’s fiercely intent animal stare was returned by a calm, unafraid look. This man was not intimidated.
Predator that he was, Lylee was able to recognize the confident strength in the other man. For a moment, he fingered the knife in his pocket and then withdrew his hand and forced a small, almost humble smile to his face.
“Sorry boys,” he said. “Just got carried away. I saw this pig pick her up inside and figured she might need some help.” He shrugged. “That’s all. Got angry and carried away.”
The trucker’s gaze was intent and unblinking, weighing Lylee’s words. He spoke to his companion.
“Leon, see if you can get her to come down.”
The large trucker, Leon, called up into the truck cab.
“It’s all right now. Come on down, young lady. No one’s gonna hurt you. Come on now.”
Lyn had watched all this transpire in trembling silence. It was too much. What was she thinking? Not thinking at all really, she realized. Head spinning, she moved across the cab to climb down. She placed one foot on the step and stood up. Everything went black.
Leon reached up with is burly arms and caught her as Lyn collapsed and tumbled off the step. He sat her down on the bottom step and let her head sink forward. With a look of concern, he looked at the other trucker.
“Bob, we might want to call an ambulance or something.”
“Let her catch her breath for a minute,” Bob replied calmly.
He turned his gaze back to Lylee. “We saw what you did. We were parked over there,
” he said, jerking his head to two trucks parked fifty yards away. “You did good, but it’s enough now. Let’s get this girl inside and find out what’s going on.” Bob looked closely at Lylee for any reaction…good or bad.
Lylee exerted all of his control to remain calm. The prey was so close. He could smell it, almost taste it. All of his senses twitched.
“Yeah. Sure. You’re right. I just got carried away,” he said again, his voice quiet and submissive.
Leon looked down at Henry, who remained prostrate on the gravel cradling his arm, hoping to be forgotten in all the talk. “What about him?”
“Well, as far as I can see, not much to do with him or for him,” Bob said. Then leaning over, he spoke clearly to make sure Henry heard. “You took an ass whuppin’ for sure, and as far as we can tell, you deserved it. You decide you want to press charges against this fella here, and we might have to say something about an attempted rape. You understand me?”
Henry looked up through his bloody face and nodded slowly.
“Say it,” Bob said sternly.
“I understand. I won’t press charges, just let me be now,” Henry said through bruised and swollen lips.
Bob went over to Leon, and together they helped Lyn to her feet. She was coming around. Examining her, they could see no injuries.
Lucky for her, Bob thought. Another fifteen minutes and the fat trucker would have had his way with her, and like all bullies, he wouldn’t have been too gentle.
What are these girls thinking, he wondered. It was common to find them on the road, hanging out at truck stops and bus stations. Could life at home be that bad?
He shook his head as he and Leon helped the girl across the parking lot, glad that his three daughters were safe at home in Tennessee. Fortunate for this girl, that thin fella had seen what was going on and decided to do something about it.
He looked around at Lylee who was still standing by the truck, tensed. Not tense like he was nervous or afraid, Bob noticed, but tense like every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to spring.
“You coming?” Bob asked.
“Yeah. Sure, I’m coming. I’ll just pull my car around to the truck stop.”
“All right then. See you inside” Bob said turning back and helping Leon guide Lyn.
Looking down at Henry, Lylee snarled in a low voice that only Henry could hear, “You’re lucky. Not because of some attempted rape charges.”
He paused, making sure that Henry was paying attention through the haze of pain. He was. Their eyes met…Lylee’s fierce and piercing…Henry’s wide and frightened. “One word to anyone, and I will gut you like the fat pig you are.”
Henry’s eyes widened even more. He nodded his understanding.
Lylee spit a tight stream of saliva that splattered on the gravel an inch from Henry’s face, smiled, and turned towards his car. Cranking the engine, he put it in gear and gunned the gas, causing the tires to spit gravel over Henry’s sprawled form.
A few minutes later, Henry managed to pick himself up. His arm was probably broken from the fall, and his face and head stung from the abrasions and cuts that the impact with the gravel had caused. He sat down on the step to the truck cab holding his arm. It was the same step that Lyn had sat on a few minutes earlier.
What the fuck? He rocked in pain on the step. One minute, he was about to get a tight little piece of ass, and the next he’s beat all to hell.
It took several minutes of rocking back and forth in pain until he came up with the story for the emergency clinic he was going to have to visit. Slipped and fell off the truck steps. That was the best he could do. Nothing fancy, and he would take some ribbing from other truckers when they saw him, but that was better than another visit from that mean little bastard, the man with the fierce, dangerous eyes.
Henry was a bully and like most bullies, he was also a coward. He picked his battles carefully and always made sure he would win.
That little bastard was mean and scary. Henry had no doubt in his mind that he would keep the promise to come back if Henry ever said a word about it. He shuddered at that thought. Yeah, the little fuck was very scary.
Henry continued rocking and cradling his arm. Son of a bitch, it hurt!
45. Beth
George Mackey and Ronnie Kupman pulled up in front of the doublewide mobile home within a few seconds of each other. George stepped out of his pickup first and waited for the dust to settle while Ronnie shut his engine off and stepped out.
The adrenalin was pumping. They were so close. They needed an ID, a physical description to go with the arm and ring…something. He owed it to the girl in the weeds. The girl who, at some point, had been in the car he had seen last night. He owed it to Mrs. Sims and her poor husband Harold who took a walk in the woods.
As Ronnie came even with him, George turned and they walked to the house, leaving the county vehicles parked in the graveled drive behind a ten-year-old Ford Taurus. Following a bare dirt path, they walked towards the front stoop of the doublewide.
The yard wasn’t much. Some weeds and dried up grass, but they were cut short and not overgrown. Not much money here, George thought, but they took care of what they had.
Extending his hand, George rapped sharply on the aluminum screen door. He waited fifteen seconds, and when there was no response, he looked at Ronnie and shrugged, opened the screen door and thumped hard on the doublewide’s inner door.
They heard rustling and someone plodding heavily across the floor. The doublewide’s walls visibly rattled and vibrated as the person moved to the front door.
A young man, about twenty or so, swung the door open wide and stood squinting in the sun. He was dressed in boxer shorts and a tee shirt. His sandy hair was rumpled. Surprise crossed his face as he looked at the two men in uniform on the front stoop.
“Mornin’, deputies.” He recognized the uniforms for what they were. “What can I do for you?”
“Mornin’. This your place?” George spoke. Ronnie stood to one side and looked on quietly.
“My parents’. I live with them. Something wrong?”
“No, nothing wrong, we just need to speak to Beth Hilts. She live here?”
“Yeah. She’s my sister.”
“Can we talk to her?”
“She’s sleeping right now. Worked last night. So did I.”
George stepped closer into the doorway. “We know. Sorry, but it’s pretty important. Would you get her for us?” It was a question, but George’s tone was a command.
The boy shrugged and stepped aside so the deputies could enter.
“Yeah, I’ll go get her.”
He walked down a narrow hall off the living room and stopped at a door on the left. He knocked lightly.
“Beth, you need to get up.”
There was a muffled response from inside the room. The boy shook his head and knocked again louder, and pushed the door open slightly.
“Beth, come on. There’s some deputies here to see you.”
They heard her groggy, surprised, “What?”
In the midst of rustling and creaking of the bed, they could make out the questions mumbled to her brother.
“Deputies? What do they want? I just got off work a little while ago.”
Her feet thumped audibly on the floor.
“Tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”
The boy turned and came back down the hall.
“She’ll be right here.” He stood there in his boxers and tee shirt looking back and forth from one deputy to the other. He was waking up more now and feeling a little more assertive and confident as the grogginess departed.
“Is Beth in some sort of trouble?”
George smiled and said, “No not at all, we just need to talk to her about someone she might have seen.” He saw the protective and slightly aggressive look in the young man’s eyes. That was his sister, and this was his house, or at least his parents’ house. Deputies or not, they couldn’t come in without some reason.
&
nbsp; “You’re welcome to sit in and listen too, if you want. I know she’s your sister,” George added in a tone showing respect to the young man. No reason to antagonize him. He had a right to question why they were there, and they weren’t there to cause problems…just to get information. Very important information.
Chief Deputy Ronnie Kupman stood quietly beside George, hands hanging loosely by his side, a mild look on his face. He allowed his deputy to handle things. George may have been country and rough around the edges, but he knew how to deal with people.
He could be the toughest guy in the county when you needed him to be, but only when it was necessary. George wasn’t afraid to kick an occasional ass when it was required, but ‘ass kicking’ was just a tool to him, to be used only when needed. He was not abusive or physical by nature, and preferred reason and respect as his tools, whenever possible.
Unfortunately, to a sheriff with no desire to offend any of his constituents, there was no ass worth kicking, only those worth kissing. And there lay one of the issues between George and his boss.
Ronnie watched with appreciation as George handled the situation, giving the young man no reason to take offense. His words had the desired effect. The hard edge in the young man’s face softened somewhat.
“Okay. I will sit in. Ya’ll can sit down there if you want.” He motioned them to the sofa.
“Thanks,” George said as they turned to sit. “Your parents can sit in too if they want.”
“Naw, they’re both at work. Won’t be home till five.”
“What’s your name, if you don’t mind us asking?”
“Brent. Brent Hilts.”
“Well, I’m George Mackey and this is Chief Deputy Ronnie Kupman.”
Ronnie nodded at Brent, and Brent nodded back.
“All right, well I’ll throw some clothes on and be right back,” Brent said, as if to make sure they didn’t start without him. “Beth should be out in a minute. Takes her a bit of time to get up and about when she’s been sleeping.” He smiled and shook his head as if to say, ‘Girls, what are you gonna do?’
The two deputies smiled and nodded back knowingly.
