Polly glanced at the toilet and noticed the seat was left up. She whirled around and whispered tersely to Wally, “How many times have I told ….” She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the partially eaten donut on the rim. “Eeeew … how could anyone eat while on the toilet?” she whispered looking back at the Bigfoot.
Phantom Bigfoot knew there was no time to dawdle and with that thought in mind he removed a plastic bottle of bleach from his rucksack and squirted it down the toilet and all over the cubicle. He nodded to himself and thought that should have contaminated the evidence.
A moment later the urge to let rip a ripper of a fart overcame him. He was powerless to prevent the gush of wind from escaping.
That’s when it hit them. Polly and Wally gagged on the stink that invaded their nostrils.
Phantom Bigfoot wasn’t immune to his own stinky farts but the fake head he had on prevented the foul odor from making its way to his olfactory senses. But from the gagging noises the Doodles were making he guessed they thought he’d done a real stinky one reminiscent of skunk spray mixed with rotting garlic or onions and something else — Bigfoot. Shame it wasn’t him but the secret concoction he had used to foul up the bathroom.
Enough of the floor show, thought Phantom Bigfoot. It was time to leave. He replaced the bottle of bleach and pulled out his flash camera.
An intense flash of light blinded both Doodles, enabling Phantom Bigfoot and his accomplice to make good their escape.
Outside the Doodle home Duane looked around for MB and sensed he was in the woods close by watching him at that very moment. He chuckled, thinking that should give him something to write about or my name isn’t the Phantom Bigfoot Bather.
As MB watched the Phantom Bigfoot head for the woods with his Bigfoot Babe in tow he envisaged the headlines in that day’s Busy Beaverite — “The Phantom Bigfoot Bather Strikes Again”.
MB sniggered and wondered how long it would be before the sheriff’s department was alerted to this latest heinous crime and would come snooping around. He thought about waiting for their arrival but knew if he did he might get spotted by one of the sheriff’s super-efficient deputies investigating the crime scene and besides he had a front page to write. It was best he high-tailed it back home.
****
Golden rays of sunshine filtered through the trees vanquishing the ground-hugging mist. Alna, a white-tailed deer munched on the thin grass at the edge of Little Beaver Picnic Area. She looked at the disheveled heap of humanity and continued to eat, unconcerned.
Second by second, the forest became more alive with birdsong and the awakening of its resident fauna.
One by one the teenagers started to stir. They stretched and breathed in the fresh morning smells of the pine forest surrounding them.
Soozie yawned widely, noticing Beau had not returned. She called out, “Beau, where are you?”
Alna knew what had happened to their friend and wanted to tell them he was safe and not to worry but she didn’t speak the language of the humans, so she continued to graze, knowing that these humans would not harm her.
Snug as a bug in his bed at the family cabin, Duane dreamt of converting MB to the ways of the forest, to become one with mother-nature and embrace her glory as he now did. This Duane knew would not be difficult.
He tossed and turned in his bed as a nagging, niggling thought bugged his subconscious, a thought so profound he might never decipher its genetic code.
Duane sprang upright and tossed aside the bedclothes. There was something of mega importance he had to do in town that day for his Bigfoot Babes. A promise was a promise.
Without further ado, the dumbass collapsed still exhausted from his night’s excursion and dreamt of his friends, Lou and Virgil and of a letter that would bring them together.
Chapter 4
Sheriff Lou Harper Blues
DUANE PARKED HIS father’s aging Easy-Rider Harley outside the diner. He tweaked his earlobe in thought and wondered what his dear friend Lou was up to. She was almost like a sister to him, almost. Sheriff Lou thought of him as her baby brother, while he thought of her as one hot cop. He knew exactly where she was and went to go see.
Since the sheriff’s department was next door to the diner it took a moment for him to sneak up to a certain window situated to the side of the building in an alley. This particular window enabled him to spy on the sheriff in her office. He peered in at the yummy looking law enforcer and sighed at her obvious misery.
Sheriff Louise Harper — named by her father after his favorite sixties detective film starring his favorite actor, Paul Newman, sat at her office desk, scrutinizing her flat screen monitor. Everything was neat and tidy. Nothing ever looked out of place, not even the fine old oak desk amongst the shining metal filing cabinets. A gun rack displayed various pump-action shotguns and massive revolvers. A board displayed lurid crime scene photos courtesy of The Phantom Bigfoot Bather.
Duane sniggered, lingering on the third set of photos from his exploits last night. It amused him that Lou had to be dragged out of bed in the early hours to investigate his prank. Now the real reason for his voyeurism reminded him to get a peak at the screen with his increased vision, courtesy of the health benefits of taking the Jooobaaa. Sadly though, he didn’t have X-ray vision.
Lou stared at the flat screen monitor that lay squarely in the middle of her desk. Duane would win a bet the monitor was precisely dead centre. There was not a single item of clutter on the highly polished desk. And sadly, Lou’s personal life was also clutter-free — free from a man who would appreciate her womanly charms, and that was a damn shame for the whole town.
Oh, she had a fling or two, but none could rekindle the love she felt for you-know-who or the hurt you-know-who had inflicted on her. She sure was one hot cop though. Every single guy in town made that blatantly obvious, Duane mused. He knew how desperate she was, having just turned twenty-three and without a regular boyfriend.
His appreciative eye lingered upon her firm body and smooth skin, not changed since her teen years. Her blonde hair was cut boyishly short and oh so cute. She wore very little make-up — didn’t have to as she was a natural beauty. Her athletically slim, long legs accentuated her firm rear end and her ample breasts would often cause her shirt to pull a little too snugly across her chest, testing the buttons to the extreme.
This he knew was mere show. Oh boy, did Lou need a man real bad. Problem there was he knew of only one guy who could fit the bill and he was kinda unavailable for the moment. Duane sniggered at what he had done to solve this problem. Let’s get back to Lou. Damn, his mind was always wandering off to weird places lately.
And that uniform sure suited her — it really did. He sighed knowing she was way out of his league. But she was however a paradox, for there were occasions when she’d slip on a sexy, low-cut, black dress and actually put on some minimal make-up, the kind that glosses her lips. This she would do to raise the temperatures of the men at Earl’s Bar & Grill.
But getting all slutty didn’t mean she was ready to “put out”. He knew that. It was in her nature to do a little cock-teasing now and again. Enough of Lou! What about the real reason he was spying on her — that screen.
“Hey, Duane … what the hell’re you playing at, dumbass?”
Duane was startled and turned to see Deputy Dwight glaring at him. “Um, nothing, Dwight … just had something in my eye.” Duane rubbed his eye.
The obviously overfed deputy rushed to the window and peered in. “Yeah, Sheriff Lou!” He turned to Duane. “I reckon I’m gonna make an arrest for loitering.”
“Hey Dwight, your fly’s undone.” While Dwight zipped up his fly which actually was undone, Duane dashed off to the diner next door. He faltered here and there as his mind was still locked on Lou. He giggled as she read MB’s newspaper report. Let the show begin!
Sheriff Lou sat at her desk reading the local newspaper. The Busy Beaverite report on the Phantom Bigfoot Bather Case — aptly named by ace reporter,
Chief Mocking Bird — was causing her hangover to go into overdrive.
“The Phantom Bigfoot Bather Strikes Again
This is the third such incident to embarrass the sheriff’s department. Many Beaverites, including Polly and Wally Doodle, the Bigfoot’s latest victims, are coming to the inevitable conclusion that real Bigfoot are responsible for the home invasions.
After thorough investigations into the previous crimes by Herb Herbert, our local medical examiner and yours truly, MB, local crypto-zoologist and expert on Bigfoot, acting Sheriff Lou Harper is no nearer to discovering the identity of the perps”.
Lou blew out her cheeks, sighed irritably and dropped the newspaper in a trash bin. She saw her worst nightmare on the computer screen. It was the DNA result for the second Phantom Bigfoot Bather crime scene, a somewhat lengthy document by the irritated sounds coming from her lips — the irritation was more due to the annoying fact of the Phantom Bigfoot prank itself causing the entire department to become laughing stocks. Lou clicked the mouse with impatience. A printer sitting on a filing cabinet whirred into action, spewing forth the report.
As Lou sipped her black coffee, extra sweet, to lift the pervading tequila fog and her lack of sleep due to being woken up at three in the morning to investigate the latest Phantom Bigfoot home invasion, she thought of her number one suspect.
Damn you, Duane Dexter — damn you for being such a lame-brain, she mused. She wrinkled her nose in disgust remembering the half eaten donut on the toilet seat and worse still the noxious smell left by the Phantom at every crime scene. Even now, though she had showered several times to get the stink off her body and changed her clothes, she imagined she could still smell that foul odor lingering.
Damn you Duane Dexter for putting her through all this crap. But despite her feelings she knew full well she loved him like a younger brother and wouldn’t arrest him. She sighed and blew out her cheeks in exasperation.
Lou rubbed her throbbing right temple. The fog was gradually lifting. She moaned as last night’s casual fling filtered through her brain mist. Why did she do it, she wondered? Because of him, that’s why.
Yet again, it had been Brad who had plucked up enough courage to shower her with the usual compliments. He had done the gentlemanly thing and walked her home from Earl’s. Did he kiss her goodnight? Lou vaguely remembered with regret Brad giving her tonsils a taste of his tongue.
To her shame she had reciprocated quite eagerly. But she had stopped Brad as his fumbling hand slid under her satin blouse and managed to fondle her boobs. That was as far as Brad got — she hoped. Yep, she was certain Brad had not gone to third base.
The phone rang, breaking the monotony. She looked away from the screen and picked up the receiver.
Lou listened for a moment, sighing irritably and muttering, “Damn it … what is it now? Yeah … okay, thanks for telling me. Bye.”
She replaced the receiver and sighed. A shadow suddenly engulfed the sheriff and her desk. She glanced towards the open door to see Dwight briefly pausing. She shook her head in dismay.
“Geez Louise Dwight, you’re gonna get me fired for sure!” She made a move towards him. “You know my job depends on you guys staying trim.” She pointed to a poster on the wall ordering all law enforcement to stay buff. It had a gun blowing away a box of donuts.
The deputy gave her a sweet smile before flitting past her office carrying a tray crammed with donuts and a steaming hot mug of coffee.
“Don’t take it to heart, Lou … your old man will be back in three months,” came Dwight’s reply from somewhere in the outer office.
Damn it! Why did Dwight have to mention that right now? She stared at several postcards from exotic ports around the world stacked neatly on her desk. What a time to go on a second honeymoon? Still she was acting sheriff and had a job to do.
Lou decided on another course of action. She called out, “Dwight, get in here. We’ve got another one!”
The instant the words were out of her mouth her head began to throb. Shouldn’t have raised her voice like that, not while that helluva mother of a hangover had shrunk her brains to the size of a peanut. There was no sign of Dwight.
Lou left her chair and poked her head round the door. She scanned the outer office of her department which was almost empty of employees, except for Deputy Dwight, the most dietically-challenged deputy in town. She sighed with annoyance as he actually tried to hide the tray of donuts with an opened cabinet file drawer.
The only other occupant was Noreen, the department secretary and general gopher. She sat at her dispatcher’s desk casually reading a magazine while chewing gum. She was in her twenties, quite attractive with a profusion of blonde hair. Her desk was not neat and tidy — clutter was the order of every day for Noreen, who loved cute, cuddly things. These cute, cuddly things were scattered all over her desk. There wasn’t much space to actually do any work, which was perfectly fine with Noreen.
“Shift your butt, Dwight,” Lou ordered as she glared at him.
Hearing the sheriff’s voice caused Deputy Dwight to panic and seeing her angered look was the deal cruncher. He looked wide-eyed across the office at Noreen, who looked up from her magazine. There was a look of horror on their faces — a look that said we might have to do some work.
Dwight glanced down at the tray of donuts and coffee. With a sigh and moan he ducked down and placed the beautifully laden tray down on the floor using his desk as a screen. He picked up a donut and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, washing it down with a mouthful of hot coffee. He dropped the mug, fanning his scalded mouth as bits of donut dropped all over the office floor.
Noreen gave him a withering glance, rolled her eyes and resumed reading her magazine.
“You better not be doing what I think you’re doing, Deputy Dwight,” Sheriff Lou called out.
Dwight gulped down the confection as he walked slowly towards Lou’s finger indicating her need for his presence in her office.
Lou gave her deputy an annoyed look with raised eyebrows as he frantically wiped sugar dusting from his tunic, all the while swallowing down the donut in her presence.
“How you can eat at a time like this beats the hell out of me, Dwight.”
Dwight paused in mid-gulp and looked at the sugary coating on his fingers. He quickly wiped them on his trousers. “I’d rather eat before I visit the crime scene, if you don’t mind.” He grimaced. “Coz afterwards I never seem to have any appetite at all. I’m still a tad out of sorts, tummy-wise, from what I was exposed to at the Doodles.”
Well, that goes without saying. And was it her imagination, or had he gained some weight? Lou noticed an extra wobble to the underneath of Dwight’s chin and perhaps the smallest of rubber tires developing amongst the others. Yeah, it sure looked like Dwight had been feasting instead of fasting.
Lou’s hangover kicked into another gear. She wanted to haul his ass over the coals, but decided not to as Dwight was apt to burst into tears if she berated him. But still, the sugar dumpling of a deputy had his uses. What they were, she could not remember at that exact moment.
Sad to say Dwight wasn’t the only one of her deputies who could do with losing a few pounds. There was just one problem — Annie’s Diner, which happened to be next door. Annie gave the sheriff’s department staff — including the sheriff, an ample supply of “all-they-could-eat-breakfasts”. But unlike her chubby deputies, Lou worked off the ample intake of food with regular exercise.
“And no barfing like Rick … got that?”
Dwight didn’t reply as he was busy using his tongue to fish out the last of the donut that had become wedged in his teeth before swallowing it down.
“Come on, Lou, you know I can take it. Haven’t upchucked yet … just get a bit queasy, is all.” He rubbed his rounded stomach and looked suitably sickened. Loud gurgling could be heard from Dwight’s ever-hungry gut. He belched. “Sorry Lou.” He belched again. “Are you coming to the crime scene? I mean … you ought to, don’t you
think?”
Lou sighed, “Yeah, I guess so.” With those words, she got up from her chair and sniggered. “Only kidding, Dwight … there hasn’t been another Phantom Bather.”
Dwight looked immensely relieved as he saw Lou’s mischievous smile. “You really got me going there.” The deputy paused as if in thought. “Then who was that on the phone just now, if you don’t mind me asking?”
Lou shrugged, “Just some concerned Beaverite informing me our town welcome sign has been defiled, yet again.” And yet again she thought of Duane, as this juvenile prank was right up his alley. “Thought I’d check it out, unless you want to go and take a look?” She smirked. “You don’t look that busy.”
Dwight looked positively crestfallen. He stood fidgeting and shuffling his feet like a naughty little boy.
Lou knew the answer to her question even before the words had left her mouth — he was looking forward to having a late breakfast with her other deputies, courtesy of Annie’s Diner. Lou didn’t want to spoil his fun. After all, it was Dwight’s birthday, and besides, nothing serious ever happened in Big Beaver.
But most of all Lou felt like some fresh air as it just might clear her head. “Go on, Dwight, gain a few pounds.”
Dwight nodded to the sheriff and looked skeptical. He paused, knowing a jibe was coming his way. When one didn’t, he replied, “Really.”
“Do I need to say it twice,” Lou teased.
Dwight left in a rush.
Lou shook her head in dismay. She strapped on her chrome-plated Magnum .44 — the biggest gun she could handle without bruising her hand, and pulled on her jacket. She grabbed her thermos and filled it with coffee from the machine, nodded to Noreen and stepped out into the fresh air of Main Street.
As Duane ordered his breakfast from the hot, mid twenty-something, Annie, he couldn’t help bursting out into loud giggles with all those images from Lou’s last few moments in her office.
Claws of Doom Page 36
