by Gavin Reese
“Well, bless your heart, that sounds like a, a, well-intended program.” She grimaced and skepticism dripped from her voice. “I just don’t know anything about that, though, you’d have to get in touch with the individual property owners to work that kinda thing out.”
Good, Michael thought, she doesn’t wanna jump through hoops to offer help this time. He glanced at the wall to his left, which displayed a large map of the county. “Maybe if I could point it out to you.” Michael strode over the few steps until he touched the map’s epicenter, which was Lusk, its capital and his present location. He followed Highway 20 east until he found Bruch Road, then guided his finger north on County Road 15. “I think it’s about right here. There’s a place on the west side of the county road that looks like the whole place might be abandoned. Few buildings, a stable, maybe, just about fallin’ down. Any idea who owns that?”
Peggy stepped closer to the map but stayed behind the counter. “The only place out there that’s gonna be abandoned is the old Ahern place.”
“It’s on the west side, a few miles north of the highway?”
“Yessir, only place out there without occupants. Well,” she smiled and corrected herself, “there’s sure to be coyotes, antelopes, and wind. Maybe some prairie dogs, but that’s about it.”
“Any chance you’d have contact info for the owners?”
“Mister Giles, the only way anyone’s talkin’ to Mister Ahern is through a saint or a seance.”
“He’s passed?”
“Bless his heart, yes, a number of years back. He died in prison, actually, up in Rawlins, in the maximum-security facility there. Killed his wife and her lover, terrible thing, just cut that man to pieces.” Peggy quickly shook her head as though suddenly chilled. “Anyway, he’s been dead for a while now, and left no heirs. The property’s been with the state since then, and I guess they haven’t gotten around to doing anything with it. Not like it costs ‘em anything to let the wind and the coyotes reclaim it.”
“That’s terrible, sorry to hear that, it must have been a hard thing in such a small town.”
“Not really, we figured it was just a matter of time. Can’t cheat on a jealous drunk in a town this size, ya know?” Peggy smiled and then appeared as though she’d just remembered something. “Now that we’re talking about it, there was another man that was just in here askin’ about that place. I came in a couple hours early this mornin,’ cause I gotta drive down to Cheyenne this afternoon, so, anyway, you don’t care about that. So, this fella was chattin’ with our overnight deputy about that very place. Is there something goin’ on with it that I just don’t know about?”
Michael tried not to show the apprehension he suddenly felt. “I don’t know of anything, I’m just out hunting old wood. Helluva coincidence, though.” Who else is out here digging up bones?
“It certainly is. Nobody’s cared about that property for two decades and now it’s hot real estate.”
“Any idea, ma’am who the other party was?”
“No, I hadn’t ever seen him before. Wasn’t familiar-lookin’ like you. I only know he wasn’t from around here.”
“Any chance he left a name, or anything else?”
“John,” she slowly replied and nodded. “Yep, when he left, he shook hands with the deputy and introduced himself as ‘John.’ Said he was doing some kinda property assessment for the state. Just wanted to know if anyone had expressed interest in the place, like maybe the state hopes they’ll be able to sell it soon. Guess he showed up about an hour too late, right?” She laughed at her own observation.
Michael smiled and tried to chuckle along while keeping his anxiety under control. He opened a password-protected image gallery app on his phone. After Michael swiped through the first four digital images, he settled on the last picture he’d clandestinely snapped the same day he got the device. There he is. I knew these might come in handy one day. He zoomed in on the picture, which showed his former lead instructor seated at the dining table in the main house of their training compound. Still amazed it’s only been a few months since the place looked like this. Michael presented the photo to Peggy. “Any chance this is him?”
She put her reading glasses on and looked at the image. “Well, yes, that is him, that’s so strange that you two would know each other! I bet there’s a heck of a story behind all this, Mister, Mister, I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?”
Dead Man Walking, was the first one that came to Michael’s mind.
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Gavin Reese
Gavin answers his call to service by working as a professional cop, spends most weekends and holidays in a patrol car, and is honored to protect and serve the public in this manner. His ongoing training and experience in areas such as Patrol, Narcotics, Undercover Operations, Counter-Terrorism, Sex and Human Trafficking, S.W.A.T., and Dark Web Investigations provide an ever-growing queue of ideas and stories for his fact-based fiction. Gavin’s rare free time is devoted to family, travel, martial arts, SCUBA diving, mountaineering, and pursuing the perfect ice cream. A portion of all Gavin’s sales is donated to charities that serve law enforcement professionals and veterans, their families and heirs, and honor the memory of our Fallen Heroes.
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