Jack Zane: Evil at Storm Lake

by Jan Sumner

  Chapter 14

  He got in late, tired. He had been thinking on the plane, that a short break might be good for him. He could feel it all weighing on him. He went home and straight to bed. Amy knew he was coming in, but he’d told her he’d call the next morning.

  When the phone rang, he was in a deep sleep. For the first time, in what seemed like weeks, he’d actually slept well. The ring seemed far away, like part of a dream; then slowly coming out of his slumber, he realized it was his phone. Sleepily, he said, “Hello.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” Amy said, surprised to find him still in bed.

  “Yeah, what time is it?”

  “Noon.”

  “Are you kidding?” He looked at his clock, she wasn’t kidding; it was noon.

  Jonathan told her to come over in about an hour and they could have some lunch and discuss what to do next.

  “Boy, you look tired,” Amy said upon entering the apartment.

  “Thanks, that will certainly perk me up.”

  “I’m sorry. I know this is wearing on you. I just don’t want you to get… sick.” She felt Silly, she knew she wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.

  “Oh, I know. I was only kidding. Believe me, I know how I look, and more, how I feel. I was thinking on the way back about taking a few days off and getting away from this. Maybe go fishing or boating, just put it out of my mind.”

  He’d made some sandwiches and put one down in front of her.

  “What do you want to drink?”

  “Pepsi, if you’ve got it.”

  They sat and chatted about things, that is, everything but Jack Zane. Amy agreed it would be a good idea for him to take some time off. They could discuss their next move when he got back, plus it would give her a little more time to pursue some additional leads.

  Jonathan called his old high school buddy, Bill Lars. They rented a fourteen-foot fishing boat and made their way to Chandeleur Sound. Three or four days out on the water sounded like a few days in heaven.

  He’d told Amy he’d call her when he got back. She’d been following up on the Hensen case, trying to find out what had happened to Mike Hansen. Through various phone calls she discovered that following the murder of his parents and sister, he’d gone to live with his grandparents in Brewster, Nebraska. He then went off to college at the University of Colorado, majoring in law enforcement, and was now working for the state police in Montana. He was married and living in Billings.

  Amy had tried reaching him, but he hadn’t returned her calls. Maybe Jonathan would have more luck. She was bursting at the seams to tell him what she’d found and it seemed like an eternity before he got back. One week to the day after he left, he phoned. She could hear in his voice he was rested, and ready to begin again.

  “Jonathan, you’ll never believe this, but I found Mike Hansen.”

  “Where? What’s he doing? How’d you find him?”

  The news was…inspiring. The week away, although absent of luck fishing, had been rejuvenating. He felt a new sense of purpose, and desire to get going again.

  Amy explained everything, and said she’d be right over. While he waited, he began to formulate a plan. First, he’d try to contact Mike Hansen and find out if he’d be willing to talk. However that went dictated what they’d do next. Amy arrived loaded with information. They poured over it, trying to find any morsel or clue that might lead to other victims or family members. Their first, and best, choice was Mike Hansen. From what they could determine, he was possibly the only survivor of one of Zane’s most gruesome attacks.

  Amy had discovered some little known, or at least little publicized facts about a few of the other cases and was going to start her research on those. Jonathan would try and contact Mike Hansen, with the hope he’d have more success than Amy did.

  It was mid-August now and when Jonathan called, he was told Mike Hansen was on vacation and wouldn’t be back for ten days. Jonathan continued to help Amy and on the twelfth day called back.

  “This is Sgt. Hansen, may I help you?”

  It caught Jonathan off guard he didn’t expect Mike Hansen to answer the phone at the state police office.

  “Yes…well, Sgt. Hansen, my name is Jonathan Smyth…and I was calling… actually it’s a personal matter. Is there a better time and number where I can call you later? I don’t want to disturb you at work.”

  Hansen quizzed him about what he wanted and initially refused to talk about it. Jonathan explained how he, too, had been a victim, or least his family had, and his sole intent was to give the families, at least those who wanted to, a chance to make their feelings known. And ultimately, maybe make a few bucks off the man who had inflicted so much pain on them. Hansen told him he’d think about it and to call him back in a few days.

  Jonathan knew that of all the people he would talk to, Mike Hansen had probably suffered the most. He was there when his family was killed, and had somehow managed to escape. It all had to be indelibly etched on his mind. He had certainly filed it away and hoped never to have to discuss it again. Now, here he, Jonathan, was trying to reopen old wounds. His guess was, Mike Hansen would not want to discuss it, and Jonathan, although disappointed, would understand completely.

  He waited a week then made the call.

  “Sgt. Hansen, its Jonathan Smyth again, calling back as you asked.”

  There was an uncomfortable pause, followed by a clearing of the throat, “Oh yes. I tell you what, why don’t you call me at home tonight. We can discuss this better.”

  “Of course… absolutely.” Jonathan was shocked. Maybe he was wrong and Mike Hansen did want to tell his story. He’d felt the same way about Barbara (Zane’s sister) and, she’d come forward, and she probably had more to risk than Hansen.

  It was seven o’clock in the evening in Billings when Jonathan nervously made the call. The phone rang for an eternity and Jonathan was about to hang up, when a voice said, “Hello?” It was the voice of a young girl.

  “Hi, is your dad there?”

  “Yes, I’ll get him.”

  Her voice was sweet and polite; Jonathan didn’t know he had a child, or possibly children. It would probably make this all the more difficult.

  “Hello.”

  “Mr. Hansen, its Jonathan Smyth.”

  “Oh yes, I tell you what, can I call you back in a few minutes. We’re just putting Katy down for the night.”

  “Of course.” Jonathan hung up and waited patiently, wondering how this was going to play out. Mike Hansen had a family, sounded happy and had probably buried the horror of that night so deep in his psyche…well, the odds were he wasn’t going to want to relive it. Thirty minutes later the phone rang, “Hello.”

  “Mr. Smyth, its Mike Hansen.”

  “Yes, thanks for calling me back. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to interrupt when I called earlier.”

  “That’s okay, we always put Katy down about seven-thirty, read her a bedtime story…you know.”

  “She sounded like a very sweet little girl. How old is she?”

  “Ten (the same age Mike was when Zane killed his parents). It’s hard to believe, they grow up so fast. It seems like just yesterday we were bringing her home from the hospital. Now she’s riding her bike, spending the night at her friends house…well, anyway, I’ve talked this over with my wife, Nancy, and I think at this point I’d like to find out a little bit more about what you’re doing and how it would affect my family.

  “To be honest with you Mr. Smyth, I’m reluctant to dig all that up. The only person I’ve ever talked to about it is Nancy, and she’d prefer we left it alone. Our main concern is Katy.

  “Being a police officer I’ve seen my share of crime, although up here it’s pale compared to big city crime, but nonetheless, a murder’s a murder no matter where it takes place. But you develop an ability to keep it at arms length, not let it get inside you. It’s
the only way to survive. But what happened to my mom, dad and sister that night…”

  He stopped. Jonathan could almost feel the pain. “I understand…well, let me rephrase that, I too lost family to this man, not to the extent or gravity you did, but still, I had family members killed. Believe me I’m not going about this lightly or without concern. You, probably more than anyone, have been affected by this malevolence. Please know that’s not lost on me. I know how painful this would be and the possible repercussions. I will handle it any way you want, and if you would prefer not to discuss it, that will be the end of it. I’ll walk away and not bother you again.”

  Mike seemed genuinely stirred by what Jonathan had said. They agreed to talk again. Mike would talk to Nancy and get back to Jonathan within the week.

  In Storm Lake, Barbara, was starting to feel the early ramifications of her discussions with Jonathan. While there, and with her permission, Jonathan had tried to talk to several of the townspeople about what they remembered; all refused to discuss it. Now that he was gone, and with what they perceived to be impending trouble, they had asked Barbara to have her brother’s casket removed and buried elsewhere. They figured if he wasn’t there, the media and thrill seekers wouldn’t come around.

  Barbara had grudgingly agreed. She called Jonathan to let him know what she was doing.

  “Mr. Smyth, its Barbara Wilkes.”

  “Yes, Barbara, it’s good to hear from you, how are you?”

  “Well, I was calling to let you know that we are moving Jack’s casket.”

  “What? Why?” He said dumbfounded.

  She explained the pressure from the locals and that, although reluctantly, she understood and had agreed.

  “Have you already dug him up?”

  “Yes, he’s gone. We sent him up to Jeff’s place. He said he would bury him on his property and no one would know the difference.”

  “Wow! That happened pretty fast. Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. The next day after you left, several of the town board members came out and asked me to do it. They just don’t want the publicity or attention, especially over someone like Jack. It’s probably for the best, I’m not sure I want that kind of attention either. Maybe with him gone, you can tell my story and that will be the end of it.

  “You have to promise me, however, that you won’t tell anyone where he’s buried.”

  “You can count on it. I’m sorry this happened, but as you say, maybe it’s for the best. I’m sure with his burial site somewhere else, they’ll leave you alone.”

  “I certainly hope so,” she said. “Well, I just wanted to let you know, and thanks for understanding.”

  They hung up and Jonathan sat in amazement. How is it, he thought, that an evil presence like Jack Zane can have such a far-reaching affect on people, thirty years after his death?

  He didn’t have the answer - it just seemed to be the way of the world.