The Death of Alan Chandler (The Red Lake Series Book 1)

by Rich Foster

  He almost failed to realize it was Blain that left the estate because he was diving a Dodge pick-up. But spotting Lilly’s red hair he saved himself. Traffic made it easy to follow them while they were in town. Once the black pick-up had turned onto 218 he knew they must be heading to Red Lake. There were no real crossroads for miles, so he had let the gap between them widen. A car sped past him and when it was far enough ahead to see he realized the truck was out of sight. Speeding to catch up he almost missed them stopped at the station. However, without diving too erratically he managed to stop in time. It seemed best to be obvious. People never seemed to worry about someone out in the open. He had heard parts of Charles conversation with the clerk, but could not catch all of it. What he especially noticed was the exchange of money!

  After he left the station he had driven quickly up the road. He drove two miles, turned off and waited, but after fifteen minutes the pick-up did not pass. Thinking perhaps they had returned to town, and fearing Maddox’s wrath if he lost them, the young policeman turned around and headed back toward Beaumont. A mile back he passed them as they walked along a curve. They were obviously looking for something but he had no idea what. There was no cover so he drove on out of sight. The young officer called Maddox on his cell phone and reported. Maddox told him to come on in and get back in uniform.

  After he hung up Maddox called the State Highway Patrol. He asked that they keep an eye out for the black Dodge pick-up along 218. If they saw the car he wanted to get a description and to note what if anything they were doing. About noon he received a report back that the people in question had been spotted looking through brush at a curve in the road about five miles further up the road. Maddox let the phone drop in its cradle and called Delaney in.

  “Blain and Chandler stopped at the gas station on 218 and were offering the clerk money for his “memory.” I had Carson following them. He was checking his oil and couldn’t catch everything that was said, but he sensed the kid either couldn’t or wouldn’t help. However, Blain did shove at least one bill, size unknown into the kid’s pocket. Now they are out inspecting highway 218. It has taken them two hours to cover five miles. Obviously they are looking for something. What do you make of it?”

  “Maybe they were trying to buy the kid. As for the search, maybe they lost something they think is incriminating?”

  “It seems unlikely. If they lost something the likely spot would be wherever they dumped the body. But judging from the time and distance they appear to be making a systematic search.”

  “Looking for Chandler’s car then?”

  “Perhaps but why? We gave that area a good going over. That’s not to say he couldn’t be out there. It smells more of theatre to me.”

  “But why?”

  “How the hell do I know? If they whacked Chandler maybe this is part of the script. Blain is not stupid. He was playing games with us. However I think we got under his skin this morning. But perhaps he’s a better actor than we think.”

  “So what if they find the car?”

  “It either means they know where to look and this is part of the act or they get lucky and we look stupid.”

  *

  Lilly and Charles continued their search. As the turns became tighter part of the job was simplified due to the presence of guardrails. The rails eliminated a fair amount of lateral territory. Also as the mountain became steeper the number of side trails became fewer. But the down side was the steeper terrain was harder to walk on and they had to hike further to check the brush.

  Late in the afternoon they spotted something in dense brush at the bottom of a steep bank...They could see sunlight glinting off of chrome or glass. Inwardly they were excited that they had found the answer to their legal problems. Besides if he crashed Alan was certainly dead. As they scrambled down the slope, they found bits and pieces of taillights and trim. The general shape of the vehicle in the brush might be a Cherokee but when they finally reached it, the car proved to be an old Land Cruiser that was stripped and shot up.

  The climb back up the slope proved discouraging and arduous. Though they were in good physical shape they were both breathing hard by the time they reached the top of the bank.

  “I think we need to get a rope,” said Charles. “The hills are getting steeper and if we have to go down many slope like this one, a rope would make it a great deal easier to get back up! Besides it could also keep us from falling.”

  “I’m ready to call it a day,” Lilly said. “Why don’t we go up to Red Lake for the night? We could buy a rope up there, get a bite in town and stay at the cabin.”

  Charles seemed reluctant.

  “At least we could have some privacy without a creepy cop peeking in the window. Besides, Red Lake is closer than town from here. We can work down from the top tomorrow.”

  Charles gave in to the idea. They climbed into the truck and drove up the hill. Lilly watched the side of the road. There were fewer and fewer places a car could leave the road un-noticed. The large trunks of the old growth pine forest would stop any car. Elsewhere guardrails would have stopped Alan’s car or at least shown visibly damage.

  The sun was high still when they pulled up to the cabin at Red Lake. Lilly took the key from behind the shutter and let them in. Soon windows were open and the house was airing out. Lilly put on a swimsuit in the bedroom and tossed a pair of Alan’s trunks to Charles. “Come on, let’s go swimming.” She ran out the door and down to the dock. Without stopping she ran off the end and entered the water in a low sleek racers drive. She began to swim with a strong steady stroke.

  When Charles came out on the dock she noticed how Alan’s swimsuit was too large around Charles firmer and flatter stomach. A small inner voice told her that she deserved much more than she had settled for in marriage. Charles dove in and they swam until they were refreshed. They lay out on the dock in the lingering heat of the late afternoon sun. It was almost mid-June. Soon it would be summer solstice, the longest day of the year.

  That night they went into town and had dinner at the Canaan Grill. The food was far from gourmet but the mountain air and the feeling of escape lent greater ambiance than the meal might have deserved. Between them they drank a bottle and a half of red wine. Charles appreciated it for its effect on Lilly rather than for its taste. She became more animated as she drank. Excitement bubbled up in her. Her eyes grew dreamy and she became very much the Lolita!

  Lilly did not see anyone she knew during dinner. Alan was the one who had mixed in town. On their way in she thought of stopping at the Real Estate office but then realized that it was too late. After dinner she was only thinking of getting back to the cabin. Once the sun set, the air turned cool, so Charles built a large fire in the stone fireplace. They watched the red and orange flames of the fire grow as the same colors faded from the western sky across the lake. Later Lilly got out some pillows and a large down blanket. Curled up together on the sofa, in front of the fire, they finished the second bottle of wine. Soon they were goofing around like a couple of love struck teenagers whose parents were not home. Clothes ended up scattered about the floor, the empty wine bottle rolled away into the corner and the two of them passed the night entangled in each others arms on the carpeted floor.

  That night Sheriff Gaines chanced to drive down the road toward the Chandler cabin. School was almost out and the seniors were on half days for finals week. It seemed every year this was a signal for them to go out and drink by the lake. Gaines had his deputies on patrol around the east end of the lake. Last year there had been a couple of break ins after too much drinking and one bonfire got out of control and almost burned down the Sutton place. As he came to the lake he could see the light in the windows of the Chandler cabin. Normally a light in the window would not be significant, but it was only three weeks since he had been out here at Maddox’s request.

  He parked his car and walked up the drive. He noted the license plate on the pickup and then left. In his squad car he ran the number and came up with Char
les Blain of Beaumont. The car wasn’t local so he was no longer concerned. However, as far as he knew, Chandler was still missing so he thought in the morning he might call down the hill and tell that Sergeant from Beaumont.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Alan awoke to the smell of meat cooking. He sat up. Hunks of meat were broiling on a metal spit over the small campfire. He felt much improved. His body was no longer stiff, however his arm ached and the fingertips were bluish and puffed up. Karl noticed Alan studying them.

  “Let me have a look there, son.” He tapped each finger lightly asking if Alan could feel his touch. Alan said yes, but they felt numb.

  “Your arm is swollen. As it goes down, your fingers will feel better. If they go numb completely we’ll have to cut the cast off. I hope it don’t come to that because we might open up the break.”

  “Where did you learn to set bones?”

  “I ran a ranch for years. A man learns how to do things over the years.” When someone or something gets hurt there ain’t always a doctor or vet close by.”

  While he talked, Karl picked up a knife in one hand and a dead rabbit in the other. With a couple quick slices he opened the fur, slipped his fingers in and holding the hind feet, he gave a jerk and effortlessly peeled the whole fur off as though he were removing a winter jacket. Then with shocking speed and ease he gutted the animal.

  “Did you know a man can starve to death eating just rabbit? Almost no fat! It’s a fact, a man can’t live on rabbit alone.”

  Alan’s appetite was being seriously challenged. “Where’d you get the rabbit?”

  “At the grocery store over the hill,’ he said with a nod behind them. He laughed at his own joke and continued, “I’ve got snares out all around here. The trick to staying alive is in knowing how to put the least amount of energy into gathering the most amount of food. For example, it’s a lot easier to snare small game than killing a bear or a deer. It takes a bunch more energy to build a big trap and if your traps don’t kill them, the big animal just might kill you! It’s also easier to gut and fix small game.

  Karl pulled the meat off the fire. He forked a mess of hunks onto a plate and passed it over to Alan. Alan tentatively put a piece in his mouth. He wasn’t sure what it was but his appetite rapidly came back. Conversation lagged as they ate. After a bit Alan broke the silence, “How long do you think it will be before I can hike out of here?”

  “Reckon it will be a week, maybe more before that ankle is going to do you much good.”

  “Well, as soon as I can get around I could hike out for help. I could bring someone back to get you out of here.”

  Karl smiled. “That’s mighty thoughtful of you son, but I have a plan. Why don’t you just stay here with me until the helicopter comes and picks us up?”

  “What copter? You said nobody knows where you are!”

  “The one they’re gonna’ send for me. Right now a little smoke doesn’t bother anyone. But come July, which I reckon is only three weeks away, fire season will begin. Four hundred miles above the earth, satellites with infrared detectors will be looking for hot spots.

  When it sees my fire, somewhere a computer will light up, a technician will get on the phone, and a chopper will come to investigate. It’s illegal to have a fire outside of the campgrounds. Smokey would fly out here just for the pleasure of writing me a ticket. The least they will be able to do is give me a lift home.”

  Alan was dumbstruck. “So, that’s your plan?”

  “Yep. I thought they were coming a couple days before you showed up. I was taking an afternoon nap. In my dream I was back in Vietnam! I could smell the muck of the rice paddies and hear the pock-pock-pock of the chopper rotors. We were waiting for an extraction and Charlie was out there. But then the chopper just didn’t sound right, it wasn’t throaty like the Hueys. I woke up to the whine of a Bell Ranger crossing to the west. Whoever it was, they just made a single pass, so I reckoned it was a chopper coming across the mountains toward the Silver Lake Fire Base.

  “Beats thrashing around in the woods, don’t it? If you’re hiking without supplies you need to spend half your day gathering food so you can go on to the next. Sure it’s no problem living off the woods if you know what you’re doing and can get around. Of course that was my problem. The engine just about landed in my damn lap. My leg was crushed bad between the block and the fuselage. The radio was no good because the electrical was all torn up and I couldn’t move.” Karl told the story in an easy western drawl. He told it casually as if this were commonplace to crash your plane and to mangle your leg. It seemed I would either die of thirst, hunger, or by wild animals.” As he spoke Karl honed the hunting knife on the edge of a stone.

  Transfixed by Karl’s story Alan asked, “If it wasn’t severed in the crash, what did you do?”

  Karl studied the blade, and then said, “I cut my leg off!”

  Alan almost choked on the coffee he was sipping. “You cut your own leg off? How’d you do that?”

  “Just sliced it apart at the knee. Pretty much the same as butchering up a pig or a steer. Bit more painful for me of course.”

  If Alan didn’t see the empty pants leg he would have called Karl a liar. It was hard to believe a man could amputate his own leg. “Weren’t you afraid of dying?”

  “Actually I was afraid of being a cripple. My Dad lost his leg to diabetes. I remember him hobbling around and cursing his fate. I used to fear ending up like that. But my leg was crushed. I was already a cripple. Once I accepted that it became easy.”

  “I could never do that”, Alan said emphatically.

  “Sure you could. The only question is would you? To know the answer to that though you have to know how badly you want to stay alive! If I was afraid to live as a cripple then I would be dead. But because I gave up the fear of what I already was, the leg became incidental.”

  “I’d rather be dead!”

  “Maybe son. But when I hear you talk about the fight you put up here in the woods, I reckon you aren’t all that eager to get to heaven, no matter how nice it may be. As for myself, I plan on wringing every last moment out of life here on earth, before I meet my maker.”

  Karl sipped his coffee and paused in thought. “I ain’t gonna' leave life kickin’ and screamin’ but I sure do plan to hold on just as long as the good Lord gives me half a chance.” He spit out some chicory grounds and continued. “There was no way I was gonna survive with that leg trapped. It sure wasn’t going to do me any good where it was. Besides, once it was off, the pain could only get better.”

  “But how did you actually do it?”

  “I tied a tourniquet around my leg, chomped down hard on a rag and severed all the tendons that held the knee together. That’s a lot easier than having to saw through the leg bone. I passed out twice, but finally I got past the pain. Afterwards I was able to reach my first aid kit and I ate a bunch of vicodin. I don’t know if I would have made it otherwise. After it kicked in, I was able to drag myself out of the plane. Av-gas was dripping from the fuel filter. I felt damn lucky the plane didn’t burn. Never want to go that way, no sir! I collected the gas in a soda can and carried it off to start a fire. I couldn’t really get around so I just cleared away some brush in the clearing and torched it off. When it got going good I heated up a hunk of steel that snapped off the landing gear. When it was red hot I cauterized my knee. When I came to, I folded the flaps of skin over the wound and bound it up.”

  Alan face contorted. He was on the verge of being ill. “Th…th…that is the most disgusting story I have ever heard!” he stammered.

  “I don’t remember much after that for a couple days. During the night I heard some coyote’s howling so I dragged myself back to the plane. Didn’t want the bastards attacking me from behind. Good thing I did cause that night they came into the clearing. As he spoke he pulled a .357 magnum from the belt slung on his hips. I sent one shot off blind in the dark and heard a yelp. After that the pack took off.

  “When my h
ead finally cleared up, my watch said it was two days later. I was feeling rather poor. Had a fever of a hundred and two. I was coughing and hacking up ugly stuff, like a smoker in the morning. And when I looked at it my leg it didn’t look all that swell.”

  Alan’s hand had gone instinctively to his mouth.

  Fortunately, I was fighting a respiratory bug before I took off. The doc slapped me on amoxicillin. I took two of those pills to make up for lost time and went back on it.”

  Alan’s unfinished plate sat on the ground next to him. Karl rose and said he was going down to get some more water and that Alan should take it easy for another day or so. Karl wandered off with surprising agility on his homemade crutches. Curiosity peaked Alan’s interest. He hopped over to the Cessna and looked in the open door. He could see where the engine had been pushed up against the sidewall of the plane. Dark stains showed where Karl’s blood had dried, but there was no sign of the leg.

  He hopped back to the fire and sat down in Karl’s chair. That is when he noticed “it”. At first he wasn’t sure what the thing was, but then he realized it was the bones of a human leg taped together. They were dark, as yet unbleached, but they were free of all flesh. Duct tape held the pieces in a recognizable alignment and the foot bones had been drilled and carefully wired together. Three toes were missing. By counting the pieces of tape it appeared the leg had been fractured in at least eleven places. It was the most macabre thing Alan had ever scene in his thirty-two years. He felt suddenly leery of his new camp companion. The sanity of a man who would amputate his own leg was doubtful, but to then clean and assemble it like a jigsaw puzzle was over the edge. Maybe there was a limit to how long a man could be alone. Even Karl’s idea of waiting to be seen by a satellite seemed to be the thinking of a man who probably also believed in UFO’s.