Hard to Kill

by C. M. Sutter

  She stared at the end of the line, and as soon as the bobber disappeared, she set the hook. Laughing, Hanna reeled it in like a pro.

  “Great job, babe. That’s another nice crappie.”

  Bandit barked and circled the fish while I hooked it to the stringer. “Okay, let’s pack up and head back to the camp. That was a lot of fun, right?”

  “Yep. Thanks, Jesse. I really enjoyed that.”

  “You bet.”

  Chapter 13

  From the elevation of his campsite, and by standing at the ridge, Josh saw the detective fishing on the pier and knew he had plenty of time to do what needed to be done. He entered their site and intended to cause fear. That time, he planned to empty their cooler of food he would otherwise have to buy.

  The sound of gravel crunching under tires caused Josh to take cover. He hid behind the tent then cautiously peeked around the side to see a black truck zoom by.

  With the cooler emptied of all the food and his arms full, he carried the goods to his car and stashed everything in the trunk. Josh walked to the ridge and took his position on the log. Unnerving the detective and his woman would be fun for a while, but sooner or later, he’d get down to serious business. McCord had to pay, and any person or pet that got in Josh’s way would unfortunately be collateral damage.

  A good hour had passed before the detective packed up his fishing gear and left the pier with the dog and his lady friend. Josh cracked his knuckles and laughed.

  It won’t be long now. The detective is going to lose it when he sees that the cooler is empty.

  Within minutes, the three of them rounded the curve in the road and walked the shoulder to their campsite. McCord placed his gear on the picnic table, unzipped the tent and looked in, then stood and gave the woman a thumbs-up.

  Ha, just wait until you open the cooler. You won’t be so happy then.

  Josh watched as they milled around the campsite. The detective tossed the Frisbee for the dog, who caught it in midair every time. The woman asked McCord something, he nodded, then she walked to the cooler.

  “Here we go.” Josh chuckled with anticipation as he moved in as close as he dared.

  His vantage point was perfect, and he had a bird’s-eye view. It was like watching an accident unfold—you couldn’t look away.

  The woman unlatched the cooler, opened the lid, then stared into the void as if her mind was betraying her. She finally came to her senses and did a three-sixty, causing Josh to duck behind a bush, then yelled out to McCord.

  “Jesse, the cooler is empty! What in God’s name is going on?”

  Josh was fixated on the scene playing out in front of his eyes. The detective raced to the woman’s side and peered into the cooler. He kicked it and knocked it over, and what was left of the ice spilled out onto the ground. The detective yelled at the woman to stay put and then leapt into the vehicle with the dog at his side. Spinning tires threw dirt, and gravel sprayed out like exploding missiles as he tore down the road.

  “That was definitely worth the risk. The question is, where the hell is McCord going now?”

  Chapter 14

  Seeing the Ram back at the site told me he was there, and slamming the door of the Explorer not only would alert Leon to my presence but would also guarantee that within seconds, I’d be met with resistance. My gut said Leon was the person who’d been raiding our campsite, and I wasn’t having it—not for a second. Hanna and I had all intentions of enjoying a week at Giant City, and I wasn’t about to let some two-bit con ruin it for us.

  I looked back and pointed at Bandit with the realization that I’d left the windows wide open. “Stay!”

  I would have felt a lot better with my gun in hand, or at least my badge, yet I doubted it would have made a blip of an impression on Leon.

  From our earlier encounter, I was aware of his trip line temper, but what I didn’t know was if he kept weapons behind the door of that tin box he was staying in.

  As expected, Leon charged out the trailer’s door and met me halfway. The man towered over me and outweighed me by a good forty pounds.

  “What the hell are you doing here again? Didn’t understand plain English when I told you to beat it earlier?”

  He gave me a push, and I pushed back.

  I yelled out my accusations. “You stole the sleeping bag this morning, and just a few hours ago, you zoomed by when we were fishing off the pier. I saw you! We just returned to our site, and our cooler was empty. That seems pretty suspicious to me.”

  “Too bad. What do you intend to do about it, punk ass?” He gave me another push.

  I heard a deep growl behind me and knew what was about to come. It took only a second for Bandit to leap out the window, run at top speed, and lunge at Leon. Bandit knocked the man backward, and he fell against the steps and landed on his ass. Leon jumped to his feet and kicked wildly, narrowly missing Bandit’s rib cage. Yelping, Bandit ran into the woods and disappeared.

  My focus was on my pup. He was afraid and had no idea where he was, and his sense of direction regarding home was gone. I looked to the woods and was sucker punched, sending me to the ground. Leon straddled me and pinned my arms beneath his powerful legs, making it impossible to move. He grabbed me by the throat and squeezed. I felt my air slipping away, then it was over. He tumbled to the ground and lay unconscious next to me.

  As I scrambled to my feet, his wife stood over him, holding a cast-iron skillet.

  She spat on him then wiped her mouth. “You son of a bitch just hurt the last person you’ll ever hurt. You can go back to prison where you belong.”

  Even though my head was still spinning, I realized what had happened. I coughed and sputtered before I croaked out my question. “Do you have a phone?”

  She held the skillet close to her chest. “Nope.” She cocked her head at the unconscious man. “He wouldn’t allow it—afraid I’d call the cops on him.”

  “And that’s exactly what you need to do right now before he wakes up.” I gave the man a hard look. “If he does.” I patted my pockets until I found my phone. “Here, call 911. I have to find my dog. Lock yourself in the trailer and don’t let him in. Don’t check on him either, even if he doesn’t get up. Just go inside, call the cops, and tell them they’re needed out here right away.”

  She headed toward the trailer.

  “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

  She looked back at me. “It’s Lila.”

  “Thank you, Lila. You just saved my life.”

  I stumbled to the Explorer, grabbed the steering wheel, and pulled myself up. I looked from left to right to make sure my focus was okay before driving off—it was good enough. I would go to the campsite, get Hanna, then search for Bandit. I prayed that he’d found his way back, but I had my doubts. When he ran for the woods, he was going in the wrong direction.

  I was there within minutes, and Hanna exited the tent.

  She approached the SUV. “Where did you go? What the hell happened? Your face is bloody!”

  “Get in. We have to find Bandit.”

  “Jesse, you’re scaring me. What happened?”

  “Just keep your eyes peeled and yell out his name. He took off into the woods on the other side of the lake.”

  “Why? What?” Tears sprang to her eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong. We need to leave. I want to get the hell out of here.”

  I shook my head. “We have to find Bandit first. It’s going to be dark in a few hours, and I’m not going anywhere without him.”

  Chapter 15

  Lutz reluctantly picked up the ringing phone that sat on the arm of his recliner. A quiet Saturday night at home was a rare treat that he fully intended to enjoy, and answering that call could easily disrupt those plans, but being a cop didn’t give him a choice. Cursing under his breath, he swiped the green phone icon and answered. “Bob Lutz here.”

  “Bob, glad you answered. It’s Finley.”

  Lutz perked up. He didn’t often talk to the narcotics commander, and hearing f
rom him twice in the last few days gave him a bad feeling. “Finley, what’s up?”

  “Nothing good. Seems that a full twenty-four hours has passed since this happened.”

  Bob groaned. “Since what happened?”

  “Word came down the pike and finally hit my office. The weekend crew called me so I could give you a heads-up. Turns out that yesterday’s call to Josh Stevens’s parole officer didn’t happen but also went unnoticed.”

  “And?”

  “And the call didn’t come in today either, so the parole officer tried his uncle’s phone, which went unanswered. He gave it a few hours and then tried again—still nothing.”

  “What’s the short version, Keith?”

  “The parole officer requested a couple of units to stop by and conduct a welfare check.”

  “Then what?”

  “Nobody answered the door, which was suspect since Stevens wasn’t allowed to leave the property. They breached the home and found Harold Stevens dead, the ankle bracelet on the floor, and Josh gone.”

  “Son of a bitch. How long ago did they make the discovery?”

  “A half hour ago. Don is en route, and I’m on my way.”

  “So am I. Text me the uncle’s address.”

  Thirty minutes later, Lutz arrived at Harold Stevens’s house. He parked at the curb behind the squad cars just as Finley stepped up to the sidewalk. “Keith, hang on.” Lutz killed the engine and got out of his car. He jerked his chin at the van parked ahead of them. “Looks like Don has already arrived. Has anyone put out a BOLO on the uncle’s car?”

  “I don’t have a lot of details yet, Bob. Let’s see what the officers inside have to say.”

  The two commanders entered the house and found the medical examiner kneeling at the body. Don looked over his shoulder and nodded.

  “Lutz, Finley.”

  “What’s the verdict?” Lutz asked.

  Don pushed off his knees and stood. “Well, the man has been dead since yesterday. That much is evident by the subsiding rigor. It has passed the twelve-hour peak. From all indications, his neck was snapped from behind.”

  “Jesus.” Lutz let out a few expletives and paced the living room. He noticed the ankle bracelet lying on the floor. “Damn it. What good is that thing if the con can get out of it undetected? Releasing that piece of shit was the biggest mistake the prison system has made lately.”

  Finley spoke up. “My concern is for Jesse. He nearly lost his life at the hands of Josh Stevens years ago, and now the man is in the wind? Have you called McCord yet?”

  “No. He’s not in immediate danger. He, his girlfriend, and the dog have gone on a weeklong vacation. I’d like to find that con, throw his ass back in the slammer, and let Jesse enjoy his well-deserved time off.”

  Finley scratched his cheek. “So not even a heads-up?”

  “To be honest, I’m not even sure where he went. It was a choice of several campgrounds somewhere in southern Illinois, but I couldn’t tell you which one he picked. I haven’t spoken to him since before he left work yesterday. Either way, he’s nowhere that Josh Stevens would think of. We should station a few undercover units around Jesse’s house, though. There could be a chance that Josh is watching the place.”

  “Guess that’s up to you, Bob. If Jesse was still in my division, I’d at least let him know that Josh is on the loose.”

  Lutz waffled. “Let me give that some thought. I’d think with a statewide BOLO and APB, we’ll catch that con in no time.” He called one of the officers over. “Has a BOLO been put out on the uncle’s car?”

  The officer frowned. “The car is in the garage. Was there more than one?”

  “What? Show me.” Lutz followed the officer to the one-car garage and looked inside. “Pull up that plate number with your squad car’s computer to make sure it belongs on that vehicle and that the vehicle is registered to Harold Stevens.”

  “Copy that, Commander.”

  Lutz jerked his head toward the house. “Come inside and find me when you have that information.” Lutz joined Finley and Don. “Any reason you’d think we need Forensics to come out, Keith?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. We know who lived here and who’s left behind. All we need to do is find Josh Stevens and throw his ass back in a cell where he can rot for life. His get-out-of-jail-free card just got revoked. Now we can add murder to the mix, and even though that old man did enough shady things in his life, he paid his dues and didn’t deserve to die.”

  Lutz told a nearby officer to bag up the ankle bracelet. “This is going back to the Department of Corrections. I want a damn good explanation of why and how that con was able to get out of it undetected. I also need the name and number of that parole officer. He has some explaining to do too. This could have been nipped in the bud yesterday, but now Josh Stevens has a full day of freedom on us, and who knows where the hell he went.”

  The front door opened, and the officer checking on the plates approached Lutz. “I have the information you asked for, sir.”

  “Yeah, let’s hear it.”

  “Harold Stevens only owns one vehicle, and it’s the car in the garage. The plates registered to that vehicle are the ones on it.”

  “Great. So not only is Josh Stevens in the wind, but he’s in the wind and completely invisible. Somebody get me a current photo of him from the prison system. I’ll make sure it’s flashed across the airwaves nationwide.” Lutz waved down several more officers from his precinct. “You guys hang tight here. Lock up after Don leaves with the body and have a car at the front and one at the rear of the residence. If Josh Stevens comes back for any reason, which I doubt he will, arrest his ass and haul him in.”

  “Got it, sir.”

  Lutz turned to Finley. “Guess there went my Saturday night. I’m heading to the station to have a sit-down with the guys and to make several calls. Thanks for the heads-up, Keith.”

  “You bet. I’ll have a few officers comb the house to see if they can find any clues on where Josh may have gone.”

  Chapter 16

  After seeing the detective pick up the woman and leave, Josh returned to the campsite one more time.

  “What happened to your mutt, McCord? You left with him, but now he’s gone. Must have run off on you.” He snickered. “That’s a real shame.”

  Josh crawled into the tent that had been left open when the woman took off with the detective. He was sure it was an oversight on her part not to zip it up.

  Hmm, you never know what kind of varmint can get inside if you don’t secure your tent.

  He noticed a flashlight in the tent pocket and clicked it on.

  “Would you look at that!” He laughed. “The stupid bitch left her phone behind. Guess I really hit the jackpot now. Looks like everything is going my way after all.”

  He pocketed the phone and did a little more snooping, but with all their food, a cozy sleeping bag, and now her phone, he didn’t need much more.

  May as well take this flashlight, though. I like the thought of keeping them in the dark—literally.

  Josh backed out of the tent and left it the way he’d found it—open and unsecure. He was sure the detective would blame the woman for losing her phone. Either a wild animal carried it away, or an opportunist took it. No matter what, Josh was hammering a wedge between the two, and with the dog missing, it would only get worse.

  He walked to his site with several ideas on his mind. That evening, he would eat free food, play games on her phone, then get a good night’s sleep. Before turning in, he planned to walk to the ridge and check on the detective one more time. He needed to think of something that would cause them to be stranded there. It was a good five-mile hike to the registration building, nothing too difficult, but his guess was that the detective would spend every available second searching for his dog.

  Josh would sneak down to the site and puncture every tire on the SUV. That was the best way to get McCord exactly where he wanted him—right in the palm of his hand.
r />   Chapter 17

  “See anything? Any movement at all in the woods?”

  “Only birds and squirrels, Jesse, but it’s getting hard to see. I think we need to park and search the woods on foot.”

  “It’ll be dark in a half hour. Is there a flashlight in the glove box?”

  Hanna sighed. “No. I took it into the tent so we’d have it at night.”

  “Call my cell phone.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to know if the cops picked up Leon and if his wife is safe. I gave her my phone to call 911.”

  Hanna lifted her hip and reached into her back pocket. “What the—” She lifted her other hip and patted that pocket. “Damn it. My phone must be in the tent.”

  The night was getting worse by the minute. I pumped the brakes and made a U-turn in the road.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Bandit ran into the woods from their campsite, so maybe he backtracked, plus I need to get my phone and make sure Lila is okay. The sun is already below the horizon, so we don’t have a lot of time.” I pulled into their campsite and left the headlights on. “Damn it, the truck is gone.” I opened the driver’s-side door.

  “Why are you getting out?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe she left my phone inside. I never told her which campsite was ours.”

  “But why would she leave the trailer unlocked?”

  “I don’t know—wishful thinking on my part. I’ll be right back.”

  Cautiously approaching the trailer, I called out Lila’s name, but nobody answered. I stepped up to the door and turned the handle—it opened to a darkened room. I called out to her again and got silence in return. Swatting the wall, I connected with the switch, and the small living and kitchen space lit up. It was tough to see anything beyond the mess in front of me. I turned to the bunk area and saw a heap of blankets but no sleeping bag. I searched the counter and table for my phone, but it wasn’t there. Curiosity forced me to open the refrigerator to see if our food was inside. I was shocked when I saw that it wasn’t, and from the empty shelves I stared at, I would have happily given them food under different circumstances. Unless all of our things were inside the Ram, my gut said Leon wasn’t the culprit.