by Sasha Pruett
Chapter Twelve
Be not wise in your own conceits.
Romans 12:16
“Sheriff Marshall, this is dispatch. Do you copy? Over. Sheriff Marshall this is dispatch. Do you copy? Frank this is Gary where in the world are you?!” Only a soft crackle was heard over the radio, no reply, no Sheriff Frank Marshall. Officer Gary Carpell knew that Frank had been working extra hard to afford that diamond solitaire he’d picked out to give Sharon McLocklin who worked down at the youth center and that he’d been saving up for three months just so he could ask her to marry him. Good Lord knows that he needed his rest, but Gary couldn’t find the sheriff anywhere and since Frank lived alone there was no one to tell him if he’d even gotten home alright.
The men from Animal Control had shown up almost two hours ago and they were far from happy. Knowing that he had to do something soon or the two men would leave and then both his and Frank’s butt would be in a sling, he took it upon himself to take Frank’s place until he turned up. Gary pushed back his chair and rose from the desk. He instructed one of the deputies to drive by Frank’s place then headed to the lounge to smooth things over.
As he had expected one man was strongly built, wearing the uniform of an animal control field man. Tan in color, with the regulatory white iron on patch bearing the man’s name precisely placed over his pocket, and of course accompanied by his matching baseball cap with ‘Animal Control’ embroidered in bold black lettering adorning his head leaving a small amount of blond hair protruding from its edges. He was seated on the undersized, black, vinyl couch across the room engrossed in the television mounted in the corner a few feet away.
The room was tiny, even by small town standards, but that mattered not to the thirty two year old ‘dog catcher’. The room was cool in contrast to the searing heat that ruled the outdoors, even his numb rear from the uncomfortable couch was a pleasant change from crawling under homes in search for yet another snake that some frightened citizen claimed had invaded their home. This was the worst season for the slithering beasts and the thought of having to crawl in and under dark, dank, musty, tight places hunting the serpent that managed to cross someone’s path sent chills throughout his body. “Give me a rabid wolf any day rather than a snake. God put those things on their belly for a reason and I don’t disagree with him.” He crossed himself while gazing towards the heavens then returned to the late morning cartoons that were scampering wildly on the screen.
The other man however had seated himself erect and rigidly at the minute table placed in yet another corner of the lounge, nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee that he had purchased an hour ago from one of the many nearby vending machines underneath the television set. He wore a navy blue pinstripe suit, crisp white shirt that looked as if it had just come from the factory, and a navy silk tie. His raven hair, expensive clothing, and buffed dress shoes were all in perfect order. Not a hair out of place, not a wrinkle, not even a scuff mark on his brightly polished footwear. Even the contents of his open briefcase and the hefty file he was examining were all in immaculate condition.
Men like that were not very popular in the town of Epson. Order is nice and necessary, but these stuffed shirt, anal, bureaucrats gave people the willies, some of the men on the force wondered if they were even human or some genetic government experiment. Clones with no personality or soul. Unfortunately this man had a personality.
The snake wrangler chuckled lightly at whatever antics were being played out in toon town causing the bureaucrat to roll his eyes and let out a huff of disgust. Then noticing the tiniest speck of fuzz had settled on his coat sleeve removed it immediately leaving his suit flawless once more. He was aware of the officer standing in the doorway but was in no way going to hurry after having been kept waiting for so long. The man nonchalantly placed the file along with his notes neatly back into his briefcase, closed it, and stood up using his hand to smooth out any would be wrinkles that resulted in sitting in that ‘cheap’ chair all morning. He stared defiantly at Gary then peered down at his watch and stated with his usual air of arrogance, “About time don’t you think deputy?”
Gary noticed a large gold wedding band nestled tightly on his ring finger and wondered how any woman would put up with a man like the one standing in front of him. What he didn’t know was that the woman represent by that bright 24 karat band had left him sixteen months ago, he continued to wear it for appearances only; after all what would people say if they knew that his perfect family wasn’t and that the woman that had dedicated her life to him had simply walked out on him.
If he had cared as much about his family as he did his own image they would still be together, but love was never in the equation. He had married her not because he loved her and wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but because he was twenty eight and it looked proper for him to take a wife and eventually start a family. His wife Carolyn had once asked him if he had been toilet trained at gun point… he didn’t get it.
He didn’t ‘get’ a lot of things. He may not have loved the woman, but he did care about her. He gave her a beautiful home, nice clothes, and a Jag. What else was there? Many women envied her and she should have been satisfied. He even gave her two children to fill whatever ‘void’ she claimed to have, but love was never a consideration. At least not for him. Carolyn on the other hand had loved him passionately. Like so many other women she was wild and Harold had given her direction, taken her in hand, and shown her how she could accomplish things great and small. She was completely devoted to him for the first four years of their marriage and had borne him two sons. She tried endlessly to be the model wife, but when it actually hit her that that was the only reason he had married her it devastated her. Her heart was torn to pieces, but her love for him kept her by his side struggling to earn his affection; hoping that one day he would turn to her and confess that he had fallen madly in love with her. As another year went by with no such confession she found herself in a torrid affair, but guilt led her to confess her sins to her iron-willed husband. He agreed to a quiet divorce leaving her complete custody of the children. “They’re just too messy and time consuming without you here to watch them and clean up after them.” were the last words he spoke to his wife the night he left. As with everything else dealing with his image he had put his own spin on the situation, after the divorce was finalized he would tell others that Carolyn had been having personal issues and could not handle the role as wife so he, being such an understanding husband, gave her the time and space that she required and since she couldn’t bear to be separated from the boys he agreed to give her custody. He would be of course providing substantial support for both his children and his wayward wife. The sympathy and admiration he would receive from his peers would only add to his persona. The whole situation would work to his advantage, his appearance would be enhanced and he would be rid of his ‘marital liabilities’. The final papers were nestled snugly in the file in his attaché case.
By the time Harold felt he was ready to introduce himself to the obviously incompetent deputy, Robert had leapt from the couch and thrust his hand at Gary introducing himself first.
‘How inbred,’ Harold thought to himself. Then he held out his own hand and proclaimed himself as “Dr. Harold Pintac, animal specialist dealing with the discovery and identification of species, and you are?”
Gary was not impressed. “Deputy Sheriff Gary Carpell and this is Robert Pango of Animal Control.”
“I know who he is I met him two hours ago when I arrived here. Where is Mr. Marshall, shooing alligators off of the highway? I was told that my meeting would be with him.”
“That’s Sheriff Marshall,” Gary replied struggling to keep his temper in check, “I’m deeply sorry for the delay…”
“As you should be,” retorted Dr. Pintac.
“… Sheriff Marshall has been called away,” Gary lied, “I will be filling in for him for the moment…”
“Are you sure you are qualified? Shouldn’t a detective ha
ve been called in to handle this? I have questions that need answered if I am to assist with your little… problem, are you capable of answering any questions I may have?”
“Mr. Pintac, …”
“That’s Dr. Harold Pintac! I didn’t spend half my life in the most prestigious schools in the world to be called Mr. like some uneducated commoner!” His fury and arrogance boiled.
“My apologies,” Gary said through the fakest of humility and admirations, “Dr. Pintac,” Gary emphasized, “A detective is unnecessary in animal matters such as this and I have been working right alongside of Sheriff Marshall and am just as familiar with this situation as he is. I am positive that I can answer any inquiry that he can and if I can’t he would not be able to either. Now if you will follow me to his office I can fill you in on why you have been called here.” The animosity between the two men was instantaneous, but Gary refused to give the arrogant jerk the satisfaction of losing his cool. He had a feeling that at the first hint of uncooperativeness Dr. Harold Pintac would pack up and hit the road and though he hated it they needed him and his expertise.
Once in the office Harold took the larger of the two chairs for himself without an invitation leaving Robert the hard plastic one in the corner. In his own mind he was smarter, richer, and therefore more important than Robert and he was more deserving of the better of the two seats. If you could call it better.
“I understand that you have a situation with what you ‘believe’ to be an unidentified animal.” Harold said smugly as he opened his satchel and removed a legal pad and pen. Gary switched off the monitor to Frank’s computer, no sense giving this man anything else to scoff about, assumed his place behind his superior’s desks, and took a mental deep breath so he could continue in the professional manner that was required.
“Yes Sir Dr. Pintac.” Gary replied releasing the clenched fist he was hiding beneath the desk. He retrieved a file from Frank’s top drawer and handed it collectedly to Harold. “Here is a copy of the medical reports and a few of the police reports along with the site photos. The first attack we contributed to a rouge pack of wild dogs. It’s not uncommon for them to attack farm animals, small children, and even some hikers or campers outside of town if times are hard food wise. They usually do little damage only a couple of animals are usually lost to these packs. Not like what was found at Mr. Farley’s farm a few days ago, as you can see from the photos and the total of livestock killed that we are dealing with something other than a few hungry wild dogs. Nearly all of his heard was lost and only one horse was spared. Whatever we’re dealing with even butchered his germen shepherd Archie, all that was left was some fur and a couples of paws, poor pooch.”
Gary registered a hint of sorrow in Robert Pango’s face at the mention of Farley’s beloved pet, but Harold Pintac was as stone cold as ever. “We attempted to retrieve any tracks from both attacks that would help in identifying the perpetrator, but the storms that have been raging through here each night have washed away all traces of prints. We even searched the roadside from the hotel that the Sheeres was last seen leaving all the way up to the lake and found nothing.”
“I’m not surprised,” Harold interrupted smugly, “No doubt from the lack of proper knowledge of how a real search should be conducted.”
Gary’s blood pounded and he could feel the heat growing within him, but he would not give into it, not yet. “We were able to identify the couple as a Mr. George Sheere age thirty four, and his wife Annabelle Sheere age thirty one, from Boston. They have one son named Clancy, age eleven, who is currently staying with his grandparents. It seems the couple was taking a second honeymoon down in Florida but they never made it home. The poor child’s devastated…”
The bureaucrat rolled his eyes and stood from his chair in a hurry to ‘move things along’. “That’s all fine and dandy deputy, but I can see this in the report and it doesn’t interest me in the least. What I am interested in though is the pathology report and that I don’t see in this file. So why don’t you do all of us a favor and fetch it like the good cop you are?” He was daring the yokel behind the desk to give him a reason, any reason, just one, to throw that file folder right back in his face and walk out the door behind him, leaving this hick town behind him forever. The deputy glared up at him knowing exactly what the man’s intentions were, then smiled triumphantly and stood to meet his gaze.
“We haven’t received that particular report yet, but if you would be so kind as to follow me across the street to the morgue you may ask the pathologist anything you like. You can even witness the autopsy if you care to. Gentlemen.” With that Deputy Carpell motioned towards the door satisfied that he had not taken the obvious bait that Harold Pintac had dangled before him. Robert rose, but hung back allowing the two bulls to exit first. A blind and deaf man could feel the tension between those two and he wanted no part of it. He really didn’t need to be there any way, at least not until the animal, if that’s what it was, was identified so he knew what kind of traps to set. Until then he was just along for a ride that he was liking less by the minute.
The three men hurriedly crossing the street drew the attention of everyone within eyesight and tongues began to wag like wild fire. A police officer, a suit, and animal control all rushing to the hospital was big news and by four p.m., just hours after the three men were spotted, everyone in the town of Epson had their own version of what ‘really’ happened.