The Fiercest Enemy

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The Fiercest Enemy Page 9

by Rick Reed


  “Yeah, right,” she said. In the background the familiar warble of an ambulance siren was heard growing steadily closer.

  Chief Jerrell gently put his hand on her arm. He motioned for Jack and Liddell to step off to the side. “You think he’s screwing with us?” Jerrell asked them. “No matter what I said earlier, I know my guys. They checked that area like they were combing lice out of a kid’s hair. That Jeep wasn’t around there. No one was hiding there.”

  “Maybe he ditched Brandon’s Jeep somewhere. He had an hour or two head start before Shaunda got the call and responded,” Jack said.

  “That’s pretty heavily forested, lots of camping, hiking trails. If a fella knew what he was doing he could have avoided our guys,” Crocker said.

  “Where would he ditch a Jeep?” Jack asked.

  “You’re not from around here,” Jerrell said. “It’s a Jeep. He could have gone off-road and then come back on foot. She wouldn’t have seen shit if he came out of the woods.”

  Shaunda was watching them.

  “What did you find?” Jack asked her.

  “I didn’t get a good look. Something was stuck in the ground. It just caught my eye is all.”

  Jerrell said, “Maybe the killer lost something, or left something behind. He came back for it and saw you alone out there with your back turned. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you girl.”

  “Chief, the ambulance is here,” Crocker informed them.

  Jack could see a small crowd of looky-loos gathered outside across the street.

  “Well. Get them in here, Crocker. And go tell those people to go about their business.”

  Crocker held the door open and two female paramedics came in carrying medical kits. One was young enough to have pimples on her round baby face. She had blond hair that was pulled back in two braided ponytails. The other was gray headed, stocky and gave Shaunda a nod of her head.

  Crocker hurried across the street and Jack heard him say, “Nothing to see here, folks,” as the door shut.

  “It’s Chief Lynch,” gray headed said to the ponytailed paramedic. “Better get the cattle prod.”

  “These guys wouldn’t be fussing over me like this if I was a man,” Shaunda said.

  “You got that right,” gray hair said. “Hey, Shaunda, you know what you tell a woman with two black eyes?” gray headed asked.

  Shaunda finished the old joke. “You don’t tell her nothing. You done told her twice.”

  Both paramedics laughed at the ages old, not politically correct in anyone’s book, joke.

  “Now hush up and let me examine you,” the older paramedic said and did a visual inspection while the younger one took vitals. A penlight was shone into her eyes and flicked away. They palpated Shaunda’s throat, felt her ribs, and manipulated her jaw before handing her a fresh ice pack and declaring that she would live.

  “Tell these guys I’m fit for duty.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that,” gray hair said. “You need to come with us and have that head examined at the hospital.”

  Jerrell piped in, “I’ve been telling her for years that she needed her head examined.”

  Shaunda gave him the one finger salute and said to the paramedics, “You two ‘ladies’ can get back to your coffee and donuts. I’m refusing treatment.”

  “You’ll have to sign a ‘refusal’ form.”

  “Stuff your form.”

  “Hey, don’t take it out on me, Shaunda. I didn’t kick your ass, but you’re pushing your luck,” the older medic said.

  “Give me the damn form.” She took the clipboard, scribbled her name and shoved it back into the medic’s hands.

  “You call me when you’re not in such a bad mood,” the older one said. “Poker’s still on for next Saturday at my partner’s place?”

  Shaunda smiled and regretted it. She said, “I hate to keep taking your money. Why don’t you just give it to me now, have a couple of beers and imagine you’re hauling your sorry broke, drunken ass out to your car.”

  The medics laughed as they left. The ambulance left. The crowd of looky-loos lost interest and Crocker came back.

  Jerrell said, “Shaunda, I want Officer Barr to get pictures and make out an incident report. You landed in my station house. Anything that happens to you from this point on is my responsibility and I don’t want to get sued. You need to make out a Dugger police report or get Joey to do it.”

  Shaunda held the ice pack behind her ear and squeezed her eyes shut. “It happened in Dugger which you always seem to conveniently forget. Joey’s with his wife and newborn. Leave him be. I don’t want to press charges. I ran into a door.”

  “Assault on a law enforcement officer is a felony, Shauny. He might’ve killed you.”

  “Or he might’ve drug me off to his cave and made love to me. Just shut up. Can someone get me some water?”

  Crocker got the water and Shaunda drank greedily then put the heel of her hand against her forehead.

  “Drink slower,” Jack said. “You feeling tired? Emotional? Like you want to cry?”

  “Every damn day,” Shaunda said.

  “Those are signs of a concussion,” Jack said. “Been there, done that.”

  “That describes a hangover too,” she said. “I need to get back out there to see what I got clobbered over.”

  “Tell them to tape that whole embankment off,” Jerrell barked the order at Crocker.

  Crocker said, “Should I call Ditty to meet me?”

  “I want Ditty searching for the Jeep. I want every inch of that bank turned over. You and Officer Barr stay here.”

  “Yes sir, Chief,” they both said.

  Shaunda stood and seemed a little steadier on her feet. “Who do I have to kill for a cup of coffee?” she asked and turned toward the break room.

  “Hey, hold up there,” Jerrell said and took her by the shoulders. On the back of her uniform shirt something was printed in heavy black lettering.

  P IS NEXT

  “Who’s P?” Jack asked.

  Chapter 11

  Written in heavy strokes with black magic marker were the words “P IS NEXT.” Shaunda went to the front door and twisted to see her reflection in the glass. “What the hell?” She headed for the outside door patting at her pockets and stopped. “Where’s my keys?”

  Jerrell was already on his cell phone and said, “Good. Stay there. Hold on.” He said to Shaunda, “I’ve got your keys. You’re in no shape to drive. Sergeant Ditterline is close to your house. You won’t do anyone any good if you get in a wreck. When’s the last time you talked to Pen?”

  “I should go home. Hand me my keys, Troy.”

  Jerrell put his cell phone on speaker and said, “Ditty, I’ve got you on speakerphone. I’m in the office with the two FBI agents and Chief Lynch. How close are you to her house?”

  “Chief Lynch, this is Sergeant Ditterline,” the voice came over the speaker. “I’m at your front door. I can see the girls inside.” There came the sound of knocking and a door opening. “Pen is just fine. The girls are fine.”

  “The girls? Is Patty there with her?” Shaunda asked.

  “I’m here Mrs. Lynch,” a young voice said in the background. Another voice came on the line. “Mom, I called Patty to come over when you left this morning. I didn’t know when you’d be home. Is everything okay?”

  Shaunda said, “Everything’s fine honey.”

  “Why is Sergeant Ditterline here, mom?”

  “I asked him to come by and check on you because I’m going to be tied up helping Troy for a bit,” Shaunda said. “Pen, I’ve got to ask you some questions and I need you to be truthful with me even if you think I’ll be mad. Understand?”

  The silence stretched out but then the girl said, “Okay, mom. Have I done something wrong? I told Patty’s mom she could spend the night if sh
e wanted.”

  “No baby. That’s great that Patty is staying overnight. I need to know if any strange cars or people have been around the house this morning?”

  “No mom. Not for the last few days anyway.”

  “What do you mean? Who was there?”

  “Just some guy. He was lost. I gave him directions and he left.”

  Jerrell said in the background, “Pen, have you or Patty seen Brandon Dillingham’s Jeep this morning?”

  The girls could be heard talking amongst themselves.

  Shaunda said, “Put Patty on the phone hon.”

  Patty Burris came on the line, “Hello, Mrs. Lynch.”

  “Patty have you seen Brandon since I talked to you this morning? Did he come by the house?”

  “Do you mean your house or my house, Mrs. Lynch.”

  Jack knew how infuriating it could be talking to teenage girls and having to qualify every word to get a simple answer. Shaunda said, “I mean both. Have you talked to Brandon or seen him since I took you home this morning?”

  “No, Chief Lynch.”

  “I believe you Patty, put Pen back on.”

  “What’s going on, mom?” Penelope asked.

  “Oh Christ,” Jerrell said to Shaunda and took his phone from her.

  “Pen, this is Troy,” he said.

  “Hello.”

  Jerrell’s face softened immediately. The only sign of the old ‘take charge and kick-ass’ Jerrell was his white knuckled grip on the phone. “Hey Pen. ’Ow you doin’?” he said, imitating a wise guy with a Bronx accent. Penelope chuckled.

  “I’m just fine ya’ big palooka. ’Ow you doin’?” she said back, then asked, “Is this about Patty and Brandon? Patty told me she was with him this morning and mom caught her driving Claire’s Jeep and pulled them over and threatened Brandon with jail ‘cause Patty’s underage and doesn’t have a driver’s license. Is she in trouble? She’s got her learner’s permit.”

  Jerrell stared at Shaunda when he asked, “Where did your mom catch them, Pen?”

  Pen said, “I’m sorry Patty but I’ve got to tell him the truth.” To Jerrell she said, “They were off-roading at Dugger Mine. Patty’s mom doesn’t know.”

  Jerrell held the phone down by his side and muttered, “Just awesome.” He put the phone back near his face and said, “Listen Pen. Patty’s not in trouble. Your mom’s helping us out on a case. She’s going to be busy for a little while. I asked Sergeant Ditterline to come by and check on you. He might stay for a while so don’t let him eat all the food in your fridge.”

  Both girls giggled, and Jerrell continued. “Tell me about this guy that was lost.”

  A longer pause and Jack could hear the girls whispering and Patty saying “tell him, Pen.”

  Pen said, “Mom already worries too much, and I don’t need a babysitter.”

  “Sergeant Ditterline is staying there, end of discussion. Tell me what happened.” Jerrell’s voice was hard again. Shaunda reached for the phone and Jerrell pushed her hand away.

  “Nothing happened, Chief Jerrell. Honest. Just some guy came to the house about a week ago. He knocked on the door and asked for directions to Terre Haute. I didn’t see a car. I told him it was a long walk to Terre Haute. He said he needed a place to stay and some food and asked if I knew of somewhere he could crash.”

  “I didn’t open the door. Honest. I put the chain on the door and gave him a sandwich and a Coke and a bottle of water. He sat outside on our front step and then he left. I didn’t talk to him or anything, I swear.”

  As she was telling this story Jerrell’s head drooped. “I believe you, Pen. Describe him? How old was he?”

  “He was white. Older than me but not as old as mom. He was way taller than me but not as tall as you. He was real thin and had on a white long sleeve shirt over a black T-shirt. The T-shirt had ‘The Walking Dead’ on the front. I remember the shirt because I like that show.”

  “What else?”

  “He seemed really tired and hungry. His hair was wavy and long and almost black. It was down on his shoulders and I remember pieces of leaf were sticking in it.”

  “Anything else? Beard? Mustache? Glasses?”

  Pen thought and said, “He didn’t have any hair on his face. He was really dark tan and he had really white teeth. I remember thinking that his teeth were awful white for someone so dirty. He was really dirty.”

  “Tell me about his clothes.”

  “I told you,” Pen said.

  Jack could imagine she was rolling her eyes at the other end of the call.

  Jerrell said, “How were they dirty? Stained? What?”

  “Kind of black grime on the white shirt and in the creases in his neck and there was black stuff under his fingernails and on the knees of those old gray jeans. He had sneakers on I think.”

  “What did you talk about?” Jerrell asked.

  “I already told you I didn’t talk to him.”

  “What did you talk about Pen?” Jerrell asked again.

  “I only talked to him a minute. I kept the chain on. He said he was on his way to Terre Haute and his car broke down. He saw me looking around to see a car and he said he’d been walking a long time. I said he should maybe call a friend to come get him. He said he didn’t have a cell phone and he asked if he could use ours. Don’t worry, I’m not that dumb. I said no.”

  “I would never say you were dumb kiddo,” Jerrell said, “but it’s not your brightest move, kiddo. You’ve got a big heart but you had better not do anything like that again. You call Shauny if someone comes to the house that you don’t know. She’ll come home and take care of it. Right? Safer for everyone that way. Can you do that, Pen?”

  “I don’t think it would have been safer for Tony. Mom would have kicked him all the way across Dugger.”

  Shaunda said, “That’s absolutely right Pen. I would have. You never open the door when I’m not there. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you listen to Chief Jerrell.” It was obvious she was trying to control her temper and was scared.

  “His name was Tony?” Jerrell asked. “Did he tell you that?”

  “I didn’t ask him and he never told me his name. I figured that was his name because it was tattooed on his knuckles.”

  “You forgot to mention the tattoo, Pen,” Jerrell said.

  “You didn’t ask about tattoos. He had a couple of them. His sleeves were rolled up. There was a fire breathing dragon on one arm and a cross on the other. He said everyone in the band had those tattoos.”

  “He was in a band?” Jerrell asked.

  “That’s what he said. He said that’s why he needed to get to Terre Haute. I didn’t believe him. I think he was homeless and just made that up.”

  “What did the cross look like, Pen?” Jerrell asked.

  “It was just a cross. Like those Irish ones.” She described it.

  “Is there anything else you haven’t told me, Pen?” Jerrell asked.

  “No Chief Jerrell. I swear.”

  “Don’t let your mother hear you swear, kiddo,” Jerrell said, and Pen chuckled.

  In the background Patty could be heard saying, “I’ll take care of Pen, Chief Jerrell. We’ll be fine if you want your policeman to do something else.”

  “Put Sergeant Ditterline back on.”

  “Chief,” Ditty said, taking the phone.

  “Ditty, can the girls hear you?”

  “Just a minute.” A door could be heard opening and closing. “No, sir. Go ahead.”

  “Stay put until I call you off. Don’t open the door to anyone. I don’t give a rat’s ass if it’s the pope or a politician. Stay put and call for backup if you need it. This guy might be back and he might be dangerous. Got me?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Don’t tell the girls anything. I don’t want them to
worry. Play cards or something.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on, Chief? I busted ass to get over here. Is that skinny kid, Tony, involved in what happened to Brandon?”

  “Possibly. Someone ambushed Shaunda down at Dugger Lake after we left. She’s okay. Just a little banged up. We think there may be a threat against Pen. Stay sharp. You hear me? Radio me immediately if you even get a bad feeling. Do not go after anyone alone. You stay with the girls and call for help. Don’t leave that house.”

  “Yes sir. I need to go lock my car up then I’ll stay put. Chief, I didn’t have any luck finding that Jeep. We didn’t cover all of the trails. I thought whoever it was would head to the city or get on the highway. They had a good head start on us.”

  “Unless he’s got a death wish he’s long gone.” Jerrell said.

  “Maybe she remembers it wrong, but that didn’t sound like a Celtic Cross. It sounded more like Odin’s Cross,” Liddell said. “A square cross with a circle interlocked over the crossbars.”

  “Odin’s Cross?” Shaunda said.

  Jerrell answered. “White supremacist. It’s a hate symbol. Neo-Nazis. Militia. Drug gangs. Biker gangs.”

  “Great,” Shaunda said. “I wish she had called me.”

  “How old are these two girls?” Jack asked.

  “They’re both sixteen,” Shaunda said.

  “Do they go to school together?” Liddell asked.

  “I’m homeschooling Pen,” Shaunda said. She’s been in a wheelchair since she was ten years old. That girl’s got enough on her plate without putting up with a bunch of high school pukes. Patty goes to Union High School, but she spends a lot of time with Pen helping me with her schooling. She’s a good kid.”

  “I hate to ask but is there much activity around here that would involve any of the hate groups?” Jack asked.

  “We have a lot of wannabe gang kids, a minor drug problem, but I don’t know of any organized group that would have a cross tattooed on themselves,” Jerrell said and Shaunda agreed.

  Liddell said, “This Tony guy might be just what he seems. A guy trying to get to Terre Haute.”

  Or he might be dangerous as hell, Jack thought. What were the chances Tony would show up at the chief’s house around the same time as Troy Junior’s murder? Shaunda voiced Jack’s thoughts.

 

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