The Fiercest Enemy

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The Fiercest Enemy Page 20

by Rick Reed

Jack wasn’t one hundred percent convinced the sulfur wasn’t important. Jerrell and Shaunda were locals and had more experience with it than he did but their insistence that the presence of sulfur wasn’t a clue didn’t mean it wasn’t.

  “Did you get a time of death?” he asked Jerrell and the doctor.

  Jerrell said, “What you’d expect. Sometime after Shaunda stopped him and before she got the call about the body.”

  Dr. Daniels said, “His death was very recent. If I guessed I’d say he wasn’t in the water more than an hour. Probably less. The water temperature this time of year is about forty-five degrees. That would be enough to slow down deterioration, but not very much.”

  She took them back to the table and pointed at the backs of Brandon’s heels. There was specks of black rock embedded in the flesh.

  “He was dragged into the water,” Liddell remarked.

  “Constable Trantino told me he’d pulled the body out on the bank and he was face down. There wasn’t any sign of abrasions or embedding on the knees or tops of his toes. He must have been dragged a long way across that bank to the water,” Dr. Daniels said.

  “What does he weigh?” Jack asked.

  “One fifty-two,” Dr. Daniels answered.

  Chapter 25

  Chief Jerrell had gone to his office when they arrived at Linton PD, leaving Jack, Liddell and Shaunda in the roll call/break room poring over the case files, making notes on the whiteboards with the new information. They had divided the six case files into separate piles of information that now took up the tabletop and most of the floor. Merely reading the files became more confusing, frustrating and overwhelming. Jack ripped the six photos from a whiteboard and flung them into the air.

  “We’re not getting anywhere. We need to know these guys inside and out. We need to find that guy from the park. At least we’d be doing something,” Jack said.

  Shaunda got up from the floor where she’d been arranging sheets of paper. “You’re the one that said we should go through all this crap. Now you say we should go get the hitchhiker. Make up your mind.”

  “Hey, it’s not his fault this is such a mess,” Liddell said. “You guys let it get like this.”

  Jerrell came back through the door and cleared his throat loudly.

  “If you’re through ripping each other’s throats out, I might have a solution to the paperwork.” Jerrell held the door open for a small woman in her mid-twenties to enter.

  Liddell rushed forward to hug her.

  Jack introduced Angelina Garcia to everyone. She shook hands and her eyes roamed the room. Introductions finished, she said, “What a mess. Toomey said you needed me, but wow! What did you guys do without me?”

  Jack was relieved and happy to see Angelina. Toomey had not said a word about sending her.

  Liddell said meekly, “Help.”

  Shaunda started to stack piles on the floor.

  “Leave all that. Fill me in on what you’ve done. I’ll put all this in some kind of order later,” Angelina said, stopping Shaunda.

  “Some of us have been too busy to type up reports,” Shaunda said.

  Angelina put her fingers gently beside Shaunda’s cheek and checked out her black eye. “I can see that. I don’t suppose one of these guys did that?”

  Shaunda smiled and said, “They’re alive, aren’t they?”

  Angelina chuckled. “The director didn’t tell me any of you got hurt. He just said you needed computer support. Should I carry a gun?”

  “You don’t need a gun. You’ve got me. Did I tell you how glad I am to see you,” Liddell said and gave her another hug.

  “’Bout damn time,” Jerrell said. “No offense angel…” He hurriedly added, “…ina.” Jack smiled. Jerrell hadn’t called her gal, or hon, or little lady or angel or any other politically incorrect stuff that was meant as friendly, not insulting. Jerrell wouldn’t have to worry about being sued by Angelina. Being punched was a possibility.

  “What do you need?” Jerrell asked. “Name it and I’ll make it happen.”

  Angelina looked around the room and up at the wall clock. “Looks like I’ll be here overnight at least. I’m going to need a place to stay, something to eat, a Coke or twelve, and would one of you erase those whiteboards. They’re scaring me.”

  “That’s all Jack’s doing,” Liddell said.

  “I believe you. I’ve got my equipment in the car. Do you have Wi-Fi?”

  “We do and I can get more computers and a projector if you want. Just name it Angelina,” Jerrell said.

  “This is your roll call room. Do you want me to set my stuff up here, or do you have another office? I’ll need a desk and both of these whiteboards.”

  “I’ll put you in my office. Lots of room. We’ll move this for you.”

  “I’ll get my stuff,” she said.

  “I’ll help you,” Shaunda said. “Jerrell has a bottle of emergency whiskey in his desk drawer. You might need it later.”

  After the women left Jerrell said, “She can’t stay at Rosie’s. I don’t want that little gal staying in a bar. I got the perfect place about fifteen minutes outside of town. I’ll call. My office is down the hall in the front. First door on the right if you don’t mind moving those boards.”

  Jack and Liddell began rolling the large whiteboards toward the door. Jerrell called after them, “Stay out of my desk.”

  “Your emergency whiskey is safe,” Liddell said. “Jack only drinks high end Scotch.”

  “Stay out of my desk,” Jerrell repeated.

  Shaunda was helping Angelina get set up in Jerrell’s office when Sergeant Crocker stuck his head in the room. “Where’s the chief? I mean my chief?” he asked.

  Shaunda pointed down the hall and Crocker took off at a quick pace. Shaunda said, “I’d better go see what’s got his hormones firing.” She walked into the roll call room just in time to hear Crocker’s news. An employee at the Humane Society had spotted a hitchhiker matching the description Cretin had given them. He was cutting through the field and heading west into the trees.

  Jerrell and Jack rode together. Shaunda rode with Liddell in the Crown Vic. Sergeant Crocker grabbed extra shells for his riot shotgun and then followed on his own.

  Jack asked Chief Jerrell, “What’s behind the Humane Society?”

  “Farm fields, trees, railroad tracks and Black Creek. Maybe he’s got a camp set up near the tracks like he did behind Rosie’s.”

  “How far is it from here?” Jack asked. They were headed the opposite direction from the City Park.

  “Just a couple of miles.”

  “Don’t call the K-9 or other cars out just yet, Chief. Let’s talk to the person that sighted this guy. I hate to waste time and manpower if it’s not the right guy.”

  “You’re right,” Jerrell said and got on his radio. He advised the officers that were watching the City Park to continue the roaming stakeout there. He advised Rusty to bring the K-9 to the Humane Society but wait there.

  Jerrell veered off State Road 54 at Linton Sporting Goods and drove west on Price Road. Price turned into County Road 75. They passed a Baptist Church and there was nothing but farms ahead of them. Straight ahead was a forest.

  “We’ll take Atlas Road. We’re a half mile from the animal shelter?”

  “The guy’s on foot. He won’t get that far ahead of us.”

  Jerrell sped up turning north on Atlas Road and down a long gravel drive to the Humane Society. A middle aged woman with bleached blonde hair with purple highlights, wearing a camouflage jacket over a bright flower print dress stood outside watching for them.

  “What the hell did you do to your hair, woman?” Jerrell said as they got out of the truck.

  “Well ain’t you something,” she said. “Here I go and find your bad guy for you and that’s all you can say.”

  “I’m sor
ry, Sissy. It’s just that your natural color was pretty. Now all you need is a skateboard and some tattoos and you can hang out at the Dollar General.”

  The woman named Sissy laughed. “You got me there Troy. My niece did this to me. She said it would make me younger. Younger than what is what I want to know.” She laughed again. She had a very pleasant laugh.

  “Tell your niece she’s under arrest,” Jerrell said back. “What’ve you got?”

  “The guy I saw came walking down the driveway pretty as you please. I thought he was coming here and was about to lock the door, but he just kept going across the field, that way.” She pointed west. “If he’s planning to hop a train he’s going to be surprised. Nothing stops around there.”

  “Describe him,” Jerrell said.

  “He was a hobo,” she said.

  Jack hadn’t heard someone described as a hobo for quite a while. The politically correct term was “homeless.” Hobo was right up there with vagabond.

  The description Sissy gave was very close to what Cretin and Pen told them, minus the tattoos. Sissy didn’t get close enough to see that. “I saw him coming and I saw him going. I didn’t check him out all that close, Troy. He was creepy.”

  “How long ago, Sissy?” Jerrell asked.

  “Ten, fifteen minutes. What’s he wanted for? Is he an escapee from the prison?”

  “Nothing like that, Sissy. Are you expecting anyone?”

  She said she wasn’t.

  “Go inside, lock your door. I’ll see you when we find this guy. Okay?”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice, Troy,” she said and headed indoors.

  Liddell and Shaunda arrived and they all talked. It was decided Liddell and Shaunda would drive east a quarter mile down the road to the big curve. They would then hike south toward the tracks. Jack and Jerrell would follow the direction the hitchhiker was seen going. Sergeant Crocker arrived and was told to go farther west and come up the tracks where they would all hook up somewhere in the middle.

  “Hopefully one of us will run across this guy’s trail,” Jack said. They split up and headed out.

  * * * *

  Liddell and Shaunda drove east and before they reached the curve Shaunda said, “Let me out here. You go to the crossroad. I’ll go in here and you can start from there. Divide and conquer.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea Shaunda,” Liddell said. “We should stay together.”

  “If you’re worrying about me, don’t. I welcome another round with this asshole. You’re not afraid, are you?”

  “You’re trying to make me defend my manhood and it won’t work. We can spread out a little, but I want to be close enough to hear you in case it gets scary and you cry.”

  “Bite me,” she said.

  “Likewise,” he answered. They checked their weapons. Satisfied they were loaded and ready she got out and he drove on for a hundred yards. She was entering the tree line by the time he got out of the car.

  * * * *

  A runoff ditch ran alongside a huge farm field that was dotted here and there with stunted maple and red bud trees. Jack and Jerrell followed the ditch south into the trees, many of which were evergreens, eastern cedars and white pines. There were splotches of green among the leafless oak and maple trees. They walked quickly but quietly and stopped frequently to listen for sounds. Cretin said the guy had traded her the phone for cigarettes.

  The railroad tracks were dead ahead and they’d seen no sign of the hitchhiker. When they reached the tracks Jerrell said, “You angle off to the east and hook up with Shaunda and Liddell. I’ll go a little west and meet Crocker. We can cover more ground that way.”

  Jack didn’t think splitting up was a good tactical move, but this was Jerrell’s home turf. “If you see something don’t try to grab him alone, Chief.”

  Jerrell stood tall. “I think I can handle the little fella.” Jerrell was six feet and five inches of solidly built muscle.

  “If he’s got a gun size doesn’t matter,” Jack reminded him.

  Jerrell grinned. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “I’m not worried about you. We need this guy in one piece to talk,” Jack said.

  “I hear ya,” Jerrell said.

  They split up and Jerrell disappeared in the thickening woods. Jack angled slightly to the east, the idea being to cross paths with Liddell and Shaunda who were supposed to be going due south. After what seemed like an hour, watching for obstacles and holes in the ground and scanning around him, Jack heard two gunshots. The shots were close together and came from a large caliber weapon. A handgun, not a rifle or shotgun.

  He drew his .45 and headed toward the sound as quickly as possible. He keyed the mic on the borrowed walkie-talkie. “This is Murphy. Respond.” No response. He tried again, calling for each unit individually. His radio squelched and a voice said, “This is Crocker. I heard shots.”

  The soft ground beneath his feet slowed him down as he called out to Jerrell. There was no response. He called out again, louder and again there was no response. He called Jerrell’s cell number and it was answered almost immediately. “That wasn’t me,” Jerrell said. “It came from where Shaunda and your partner should be.”

  Jack said, “You try Shaunda and I’ll try Liddell’s cell phone.”

  Jerrell agreed and Jack called Liddell’s cell phone. Liddell answered.

  “What’s going on?” Liddell sounded out of breath.

  “Those shots didn’t come from you or Shaunda?”

  “Not me. I’m not with Shaunda,” Liddell said. “We split up and I haven’t seen her for about ten minutes. She took the radio.”

  “It wasn’t Jerrell or Crocker. Hang on,” Jack said, and called Jerrell on the radio. This time he answered. Jack said, “I’ve got Liddell on the phone. Shaunda took their radio and went off on her own. She’s headed in your general direction. What do you want to do?”

  Jerrell advised, “I’m going on. Black Creek is just ahead. She couldn’t cross that on foot. You keep heading south until you hit the creek. I’ll find you. Keep trying her radio. I’ll call her cell phone. This guy might have a gun, or her gun. Be careful.”

  “Did you hear that?” Jack asked Liddell.

  “I’ll head a little west. She was moving a lot quicker than me. I’ll meet up with you along the creek.”

  Jack got on the walkie-talkie and called for Shaunda until he could see Black Creek ahead. Not getting a response he called for Crocker and told him to head back to the railroad tracks and come east in case the suspect doubled back.

  The radio squelched. Shaunda said, “I got him.”

  Chapter 26

  Shaunda had walked toward Black Creek and was able to give them a landmark, an ancient poplar tree that had been uprooted in a storm. Jack followed the creek until he spotted the tree. It was hard to miss with the thick roots taller than Jerrell who was waving his arms.

  Jack came into a small clearing the fallen tree had made when it took down several smaller trees. The tree roots held the trunk several feet into the air. Shaunda sat on the ground, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around her chest. Her left hand was pressed tightly against her right rib cage and the front of her shirt was covered in blood.

  Jerrell knelt in front of her trying to assess the damage but she kept twisting away. “Shauny, let me see how bad you’re hurt.”

  “I’m okay dammit,” she said and tried to get to her feet. “You’d better check on him.” Shaunda motioned with her head over her shoulder where a body was partially hidden by the large roots.

  The man’s body was lying face down. His arms were up as if he’d tried to stop his fall. The back of his head was a bloody crater filled with red and gray goo. The missing parts of his head peppered the tree trunk above where he lay in blood and bits of skull and brain matter. “Told you I got him,” she said in a weak voice
.

  A Colt Python revolver lay on the ground beside Shaunda’s right foot. A stag handled hunting knife lay in the grass in front of the dead man, the blade covered in blood.

  “He doesn’t need my help,” Jerrell said. “Let me see.” Jerrell gently removed her hand from her side and a trickle of blood ran down the blood soaked fabric of her shirt. He placed her hand back on the wound and said, “Keep that right there.”

  “What do you think I was doing?” She grimaced and tried to get up but couldn’t.

  Jack had already called 911, requested an ambulance and handed the phone to Jerrell who gave them an approximate location and told them one of his men would meet them on Highway 54 and lead them in.

  Liddell searched his pockets and came up with a wad of brown napkins. Jerrell took them and put them under Shaunda’s hand and pressed her hand over the wound. He put his hand over hers and kept pressure. “You’re going to be okay. They’re sending help right now.”

  Sergeant Crocker ran up and Jack said, “Sergeant, can you go back to the nearest road? You’ll have to direct the ambulance back here.”

  “There’s a wide shoulder along the tracks that cross Highway 54,” Crocker said. “They can get back here to the tracks but it’s a long haul with a stretcher to get back here.”

  Jerrell said, “I’ll get her to the tracks.”

  Crocker took off at a sprint. He was just out of sight when they heard more than one siren wailing far off in the distance.

  “What the hell did you think you were doing, Shauny,” Jerrell said.

  “We’re going to need your Crime Scene people, Chief.”

  “There’s one coming,” Jerrell answered. “One of those sirens is the Crime Scene wagon. Let’s carry her out of here.”

  Jerrell pulled the retaining snaps loose and handed Jack his gun belt. He pulled his belt from his pants and wrapped it around Shaunda’s right arm and chest and buckled it tight to hold her arm against the wound. “Keep your arm down tight,” he said and put an arm around Shaunda’s back, the other under her legs. She was able to wrap her free arm around his neck and he lifted her as if she weighed nothing.

 

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