A Long Road Back: Final Dawn: Book 8

by Darrell Maloney

  “I understand, Marty. And I respect your decision.”

  “Thank you for the offer, Mark. I hope this doesn’t damage our friendship.”

  “Not at all.”

  “I’ll mention your offer to Lenny, and will tell him you extended the offer to him as well. Lenny has always been like a slower little brother to me. Not too bright but fiercely loyal and a good and decent man. I expect he’ll pass on your offer as well and will throw his lot in with me and the people of Eden. But I’ll give him the option of joining you.”

  “Fair enough. And thank you.”

  The two parted ways as Mark crawled into the back of the van with Hannah and prepared to leave for the long drive back to San Antonio.

  Glenna walked back into the big house with Marty, and paused just inside the doorway to watch the van exit the gate and drive away.

  “Marty, please tell me what you told him was true.”

  “What do you mean, honey?”

  “I just don’t want you turning down these people on my behalf. Because I’m claustrophobic, and said I didn’t think I could live in the mine. They’re good friends of ours, and they took me in and made me feel like I was a part of their family. Now it’s their time of need, and I don’t want you denying them because of me. It wouldn’t be fair, or right.”

  “I meant every word I said. They’ve got the people they need to do what they need to do. They’ve got the equipment to do it. Yes, their lack of drivers will slow them down a bit, but I’ve offered to help them in that regard. The people of Eden, on the other hand, would have little chance of survival if she’s right and the world gets cold again. Those people are the ones we need to help. Not a group of people who already have the capability of helping themselves.”

  “What about me and the kids? What can we do to help?”

  “Well, I suppose you can start by praying that Hannah’s wrong about the whole thing. She seemed pretty adamant about it, but scientists are people too. They make miscalculations and mistakes just like the rest of us. Let’s hope she’s flat wrong about this.”

  -38-

  Marty told Glenna he needed to speak to Frank about his murder case.

  “Why don’t you give the kids a little bit longer to play with their friends? Go and help console Debbie and Karen. They looked pretty distraught about Hannah going back into the hospital. Also, I want to talk to Brad before I leave. Mark said he’s one of their truck drivers, and I want to let him know I’ll help train some additional drivers if he can choose some men he thinks can handle it. I don’t want to try to train somebody who doesn’t have the capacity to handle it.”

  “How long do you think you’ll be, honey?”

  “Shouldn’t take long. An hour or so, maybe. I just want some tips from Frank on how to proceed with my investigation. He’s been doing this a very long time, and I’m hoping he can tell me where to start.”

  “Okay. Come and get me when you’re ready.”

  Marty found Frank sitting at the console in the security control center, his usual favorite place to pass the time. He wasn’t on shift. David was manning the desk. But Frank had been a cop for too many years to give it up easily. It was in his blood. He’d rather waste his off-duty time at the desk than watching old movies or reading.

  “Oh, there you are, Marty,” Frank said. “I was beginning to think you were going to leave without saying goodbye.”

  “No, I’d never let you off that easy. Besides, I’ve got this whole murder thing to tell you about.”

  Frank rolled his eyes and did a spot-on imitation of a character in an old mobster movie.

  Complete with a heavy Sicilian accent he uttered, “Just when I thought I was out of it… they dragged me back in.”

  But he said it with a smile.

  And it had its desired effect. Marty laughed. It helped ease a tense situation.

  “Tell me what you got.”

  “White male, early forties, maybe late thirties. Kinda hard to tell from the condition of the body. The doctor in Eden said he’d try to narrow it down a bit better. Somebody found him in the woods not far from here. He was actually far outside of the Eden city limits, but since we have no county sheriff anymore, I figured it was up to me to work the case.”

  “That could be grounds for dismissal if the case ever goes to trial.”

  “I know. But the alternative is to just look the other way and ignore it. And then the killer gets away with it.”

  “Any ID?”

  “No. And no clues, except for that tattoo. ‘Martel.’ Sounds like a name. Of course, whether it’s his name or not is anybody’s guess.”

  “Could be his alma mater too. I think there’s a Martel University back east somewhere. I might be mistaken.”

  “Gee, I never even thought about that.”

  “You said he was shot?”

  “Execution style. His wrists and ankles were bound behind his back. Poor guy never had a chance.”

  “Any indication of a motive?”

  “None. There were tire tracks close to the body. Wide ones. And it was muddy and too rough a terrain for a car. I think maybe the guy was there hunting, and somebody tied him up, shot him, then took his truck and guns. So I’m going with robbery as a likely motive, I guess.”

  “You said on the radio you didn’t recover a murder weapon. Any shell casings? Any bullet fragments anywhere? Any bullet holes in nearby trees or in the ground?”

  Marty paused and grimaced a bit.

  “Damn it, I didn’t even think to look for bullets in other places. I figured there would be some in the body to use as evidence.”

  “Sometimes they break into a lot of little pieces and wind up in a lot of different places.”

  “I’ll go back to the crime scene and look around, after I get this other thing rolling. If there’s any other bullets out there, I don’t reckon they’ll go anywhere in the next few days.”

  “Careful, Marty. An unsecure crime scene, or evidence that’s obtained long after the fact, are also grounds for dismissal.”

  “I reckon. I’ll get back out there as soon as I can.”

  “Any crime scene photographs?”

  “Yes.”

  Marty pulled a flash drive from his pocket and handed it to Frank. Frank spun around in his chair and plugged it into the computer behind him.

  Most of the photos were focused on the body itself, taken from several different angles. At one point the body was rolled over and more photos were taken. There were close-ups of the wounds, the tattoo, and the bound hands and feet.

  “Well, you’re as thorough as any crime scene photographer I’ve seen. Of the body, anyway. Are these all you got of the area around the body? The tire tracks? The roads in and out of the scene?”

  “That’s all. I guess I should have taken more.”

  “A good defense attorney would say that you weren’t very thorough. That you only took pics that would help your case and not ones that might exonerate the defendant.”

  “Crap. And let me guess. Further grounds for the defense to request a dismissal.”

  “Yep. Remember that defense attorneys are always looking for any little thing they can use. And all these things are biggies. Did you recover any casings?”

  “Yes. And I was careful when I picked them up. With the tip of an ink pen, just like they do in the movies.”

  “Did you put them in an evidence bag and seal it?”

  “I put them in a Glad zip-lock bag and zipped it closed.”

  “Did you lock it in a safe so nobody had access to it?”

  “No. I put it on my desk. But I’m the only one who has access to my office, except for the cleaning lady the city hired for me last week. And the guys who came in to repair a roof leak yesterday.”

  Frank pursed his lips, leading Marty to apologize once again.

  “I’m sorry. I should have put more thought into it, I guess.”

  “Did you look at the casings? Were you able to make out any fingerprints?�
�

  “I did, and I thought I saw some fingerprints, but only bits and pieces, and some of them looked like they were smudged. I don’t know if they’re any good or not.”

  “I’ve got an old fingerprint kit. Would you like to borrow it?”

  “I wouldn’t have a clue how to use it, Frank. I’m a trucker, not a detective.”

  “Would you like for me to see if I can get some usable prints off of it?”

  “Gee, I was hoping you’d volunteer.”

  “No problem. Let me have them and I’ll let you know what I find.”

  “I’d like to, Frank. But I went off and left them on my desk.”

  “The desk that the cleaning lady and the roof repair guys have access to?”

  “Yes,” Marty said rather sheepishly.

  “Bring them back by here when you can. I’ll take a look at them. The legal standard is pretty high. You have to match at least ten features of a print to the suspect’s print for it to be used as evidence. And, of course, you have to have a suspect to compare prints with. But even if it’s less than ten points, it might be of some use to you. They might help you exclude some of your suspects.”

  “How so?”

  Sometimes it’s possible to identify which finger the print came from by examining the print’s angle on the casing. Say, for example, if we know from the angle on the casing it was the fight forefinger, and if your suspect’s right forefinger isn’t a match, you can exclude him and look at other suspects instead.”

  “I never thought of that. Okay, I’ll bring them by in the next couple of days. Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Should I go back to the crime scene, take some additional photos, look around for stray bullets?”

  “No, don’t waste your time. Once the crime scene becomes unsecure it’s pretty much worthless. Any defense attorney worth his salt would get the judge to disallow any evidence you found out there now anyway.”

  “I’d like to talk to Brad before I leave. Any idea where I can find him?”

  Frank and David looked at each other. Marty thought he saw something… strange… pass between them, but quickly dismissed it.

  “No idea. Why do you want to talk to Brad?”

  “Before Mark left with Hannah he told me that Brad was one of your truck drivers. Apparently the only one left since Bryan’s down at Wilford Hall with Sarah. I want to tell Brad I’ll help him train a couple more drivers if he’ll recommend them to me and send them my way.”

  “We can ask around for volunteers.”

  “Volunteers would be great. But a big rig isn’t a bicycle. There’s a lot involved, especially with trailers that have been sitting and rotting for ten plus years. You need people with mechanical skills and common sense. The best one to determine who might make a good trucker is another trucker.”

  Frank picked up his walkie talkie.

  “Brad, this is Frank.”

  “Go ahead, Frank.”

  “You got a few minutes to come by the control center?”

  “Sure. Be there in five.”

  -39-

  When Marty walked off to find Glenna and gather up her children, the mood grew somber at the security control desk.

  Brad spoke first.

  “Do you think he knows anything?”

  Frank was a bit testy. He didn’t like the delicate situation he was in.

  “Does he know anything about what, Brad? About what, damn it?”

  Brad had his head down, as though deeply ashamed about something.

  “Nothing.”

  David asked, “Brad, what in hell went on out there?”

  Brad opened his mouth. Frank got the impression he wanted to say something. Wanted, perhaps, to confess his sins.

  Or somebody else’s.

  Instead, he rose from the easy chair he was sitting in and walked away without another word.

  Frank and David watched him walk away, hoping he’d change his mind and return. He didn’t.

  David asked Frank, “Were you intentionally trying to discourage Marty from investigating the case?”

  “You mean by pointing out his mistakes? I don’t know. I didn’t say anything to him that I wouldn’t have said to anyone else in his position. He made several rookie mistakes, any one of which could jeopardize his case. He asked me for my advice and I gave it to him.”

  “What do you plan to do with those shell casings when he brings them to you?”

  Frank’s first inclination, to intentionally smudge the prints so they couldn’t be used as evidence against his friends later on, bothered him. He honestly didn’t know if he could bring himself to do it.

  So again, he answered the question truthfully.

  “I don’t know, David. I suppose I will struggle with my conscience and morals. And in the end, I suppose I’ll do whatever I think best under the circumstances. I hope the prints are already worthless. It would make it a lot easier for me to sleep at night.”

  Frank was furious at Bryan and Brad for putting him in the position he was now in.

  Normally he’d talk it over with Eva. But Eva’s mind was already made up, and Eva’s mind was not one to be changed once she locked it tight.

  Eva told him it didn’t matter. To let it go.

  “He was a very bad man,” Eva told him the night before. “He almost certainly would have killed Sarah once she crossed him or he grew tired of her.

  “Then he would likely have gone out and found himself another woman and killed her too.

  “You’ve taught me many things about evil people over the years, Frank. You’ve brought home your cases with you every night, shared with me stories of the worst of mankind and the things they do. You’ve taught me that some men are just pure evil and there is no chance of redemption, no matter how hard one tries to rehabilitate them.

  “You’ve taught me that some men, for whatever reason, learn to love the taste of blood. That once they kill it becomes easier for them to kill again and again. And that they find they enjoy it, and look forward to it.”

  Frank had tried feebly to argue.

  “But honey, I’m a cop. I have been for a very long time.”

  “In a different time, Frank. Times have changed. We live in a whole new world. A vastly more dangerous world. One where people no longer fear each other. Or the laws.

  “Hell, what good are the laws now anyway? There’s no justice system anymore. If they had taken him to a jail somewhere he’d have sat there for months, maybe years, waiting for his case to be resolved. At some point a soft hearted jailer would have decided he’d served long enough and would have set him free.

  “Or, just as likely, one of his friends would have broken him out of jail. And then what would happen? He might come right back here, Frank. He might come back here for revenge. He might get himself a sniper rifle and perch himself atop Salt Mountain and just pick our people off one by one as we went outside.

  “Frank, there’s a lot of misery in the world. There are a lot of miserable people in the world. Now there’s one less. Just forget about him. He’s not worth your time. You’ve got more important things to worry about than punishing a good man for ridding the world of a very bad one.”

  This was a tough one. Frank had always gone to Eva for advice when he couldn’t resolve something on his own. And he almost always took her words to heart.

  He just didn’t know if he could this time.

  -40-

  The light of the sun brought a lot of activity the next morning. Mark and Hannah and Bryan and Sarah had always been the core of every big operation, going back to the days when Saris 7 was a million miles from earth and closing.

  Now the same thing was happening again, and all four of them were away.

  Someone… several someones… would have to step up to the plate in their absence.

  Brad and Rusty were on their feet well before the crack of dawn and in the tunnel headed toward the mine. Marty had promised to train a couple of new drivers to help out.
But Brad figured that Marty had his own operation to worry about. There was nothing Marty could teach Rusty that Brad couldn’t.

  Rusty had driven an eighteen foot box truck for a San Antonio dairy for several years before the big chill. It obviously wasn’t as easy as maneuvering a fifty-three foot trailer through the obstacle course that heavy traffic could be. But it was a start. At least Rusty was proficient at changing lanes and backing using only his mirrors, and knew to watch out for such things as low bridges and power lines and narrowing roadways.

  In lieu of a better plan, Brad decided to try a simple approach.

  “Bobtailing, this is no harder than driving that dairy truck. Granted, you’re rusty. No pun intended. Well, maybe a little pun intended. Anyway, driving a truck will come right back to you. The only thing you’ll have to get used to right away is the gearshift. Upper and lower, you’ll use ten gears in all. But you’ll learn in no time.”

  Then he had a thought.

  “Wait a minute, Rusty. That truck you drove wasn’t an automatic, was it?”

  “Oh, heck no.”

  “Good. You can start out in second or third gear when you bobtail, and also when your trailer is empty. You’ll shift fast and often while getting up to speed, so that’ll take a bit of adjustment.”

  “Am I going to haul back a load today?”

  “Yes. But I’ll hook it up for you. You can watch how I do it the first few times, and we’ll do all our pickups together so I’m there to help if you need me. We’ll come back slow. Do you think you can back an extended trailer?”

  “I don’t know why not. I can back a boat.”

  “Good. Believe it or not, backing a fifty three footer is easier than backing a boat. Because it’s not so touchy. The trailer doesn’t turn on a dime, so you tend not to overcorrect as bad.”