ADX Praxis (The Red Lake Series Book 3)

by Rich Foster

  “Harry!” she gasped softly.

  “I’m going to loosen these ropes so it looks as if you got out of them yourself.”

  He tugged at the knot until Paula slid her arms free. Her wrists were swollen and marked.

  “You okay babe?”

  Paula nodded as she massaged her wrists.

  Harry surveyed the room. He pushed the window open and looked down.

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That you were a chicken ass shit and would never risk your butt for me.”

  “Good cuz I told them you were a bitch and it might be a good idea to shoot you.”

  Paula made a face at him and stuck out her tongue. Harry gave her a quick kiss.

  “Would you two let us get out of here?” Barton asked.

  “Sure. Paula I need you to climb out the window and jump down.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want them to find your heel prints in the mud down below.”

  Paula shrugged. She climbed on the chair, sat on the sill and hopped down. Her feet left a clear trail in the mud and onto the grass.

  The three got into Barton’s rental car.

  “Where to?”

  “Your plane. I think we need to take Paula somewhere safe. What about your ex, isn’t he over in Boise?”

  “You want me stay with Brad?”

  “He still loves you, so he’d probably be willing to help you.”

  “He’s a cop!”

  “All the better. Tell him someone is after you and you need to lie low. If you tell him it’s my fault he won’t be able to say no.”

  “This is your fault!”

  “Not really, it’s Eddie Ames’s fault, or the guys who grabbed you. I don’t see how you can blame me.”

  “You’re rationalizing again, Harry.”

  They cruised around the north end of the lake, crossed the river that fed Red Lake and turned south on the western shore.

  “Do we have time to stop at a motel?”

  “What for?” Harry asked, puzzled.

  “I’d like to take a shower before we go and I thought maybe we could um?”

  “Um what?”

  “Well you know, fool around. I’ve really missed you.”

  Barton groaned and shook his head disapprovingly.

  “I’m sorry but I’ve had the crap scared out of me. I just want Harry to hold me close.”

  “There is that motel near the airstrip. You two lovebirds exercise your conjugal visit. I’ll go have a beer with my buddies at the Prop Shop. I ain’t kicked no ass in a week. Maybe I’ll get in a little practice.”

  “Conjugal visit?”

  “I read it in a prisoner handbook.”

  Barton dropped them at the Sleepy Shore Motel. Harry booked the room. He walked across the highway to a mini-mart gas station while Paula went to shower. Harry bought four beers.

  When he got to room six, the door was open a crack. From the bathroom he heard the shower running. Harry put the ‘Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle and locked the door. He popped a beer and took a long drink. Then he slipped out of his clothes and went in to Paula.

  Chapter 38

  Kurt Clemson and Louis Speers were annoyed. Somehow the stupid son-of-a-bitch got himself killed. Speers looked at the body, disgusted with the man’s stupidity. He took another bite of his hamburger.

  Clemson gazed around to see if anyone was watching. The lane was quiet.

  “Dump him in the trunk.”

  Speers, having finished his burger, licked his fingertips. “What do I do with Vic’s burger?” he asked holding up a small bag.

  “Eat it, Vic sure isn’t going to want it now!”

  Speers shrugged. He set the bag on the hood of the blue car then reached inside and popped the trunk release. Together they hoisted the body.

  “Watch out. I don’t want any of that blood on my clothes.”

  They dropped the body in the trunk. Speers slammed the lid. “Watch out for prints. Speers waved his fingertips and smiled. “No worries.”

  “I forgot.”

  Clemson rubbed his temples. “This job is giving me a headache.”

  “Nothing like the one Vic has,” Speers sniggered. He opened up the spare burger and took a bite. With food in his mouth he said, “Do you think Grim and Dirk got him.”

  Clemson face wrinkled. “It seems unlikely. They’d have guns. They can also kill with their hands. A log doesn’t feel right.”

  He walked around the house. Speers followed. They looked at the prints in the mud, then up to the open window.

  “Bare feet. And they’re small. The woman got free, came out the window. Vic must have been out front smoking. She smacks him with the log.”

  Speers nodded in silent agreement, “I told him the cigarettes would kill him.” Then he took another bite.

  “Clear out the house. I don’t think she will call the Sheriff. But we need to be gone in case she does. Then I suppose I better call Van de Meer.”

  *

  Paula lay naked against Harry’s side, her head rested on his chest. Idly he stroked her hair.

  “We need to go,” he said.

  Paula sighed. She raised her face to his and kissed him one more time.

  In silence they got dressed. Hand in hand they walked along the road toward the Prop Shop. Overhead wispy clouds were pink in the fading light. The eastern face of the Lazarus range was purple. They strolled in it’s shadow. The evening air felt cool after the heat of the motel room generated by hot showers and lovemaking.

  “When can I come back?”

  “When it’s safe.”

  And when will that be?”

  “Soon I hope.”

  They found Barton sitting alone at the bar. Harry looked at the small group of retired loggers and drunks at a couple tables in the back.

  “Nobody wants to drink with you, Barton?”

  Dirk shrugged. “They be with their friends, Harry.”

  He tossed a five-dollar tip on the bar and they walked out together. Harry drove to the strip. Twenty minutes later Barton was done with his flight check. It was late twilight, the end of the strip disappeared in the gathering gloom.

  Barton taxied to the end of the runway and took off using his landing lights. As they climbed out they banked over the water. On the far side of the lake Harry saw a cluster of red flashing lights.

  “You think that’s what I think it is?” He asked

  “Someone found the body,” observed Barton.

  “I called it in,” Paula sheepishly admitted. “While you were in the bathroom.”

  “They record all 911 calls, Paula.”

  “I told him a man kidnapped me. I escaped and hit him with a log. They told me to come in. I said I was afraid and leaving town.”

  “They’ll look for you.”

  “At least those men won’t know you were there. It might give you an edge.” As an after thought she added, “I just didn’t want the animals to get the body. It wouldn’t be right.”

  Barton looked at Harry and rolled his eyes. In the dim light of the instrument panel he saw Harry shrug.

  *

  The Sheriff stood at the water’s edge and looked out over the dark lake. On the far side a late aircraft rose from the shadows, banked over the water its landing lamps like brilliant stars. They winked out; he followed the flicker of running lights as the plane banked south and then west toward the mountains.

  Behind him, the crime scene crew worked under floodlights. Cruiser’s roof lamps cast red sweeping flashes across the houses. Still thinking perhaps of the small planes port light Gaines’ ordered, “Turn off the flashers. We look like a circus.”

  Pat Egan joined him. “We found a lot of blood on the ground, also some bits of tissue, probably brain matter. Somebody kicked the gravel around in an effort to hide it. Under a couple of pieces on the woodpile we found the weapon. It was split oak. Looks like the victim got it in the head. Coroner says there’s scalp and hair stuck to i
t.”

  “She told us that”.

  “It looks like someone hopped out the back window. It is near the woodpile. If the guy was outside with his back to her it was easy.”

  “What else do you have?”

  “We’re dusting the place for prints. The owners live in Denver. They have no idea who was using the house.”

  “Any sign of forced entry?”

  “No. The owner said he kept a key behind the shutter. I couldn’t find it.”

  The two men surveyed the scene.

  “So where’s the body? And of more interest, who took it?” Gaines said rhetorically.

  “Maybe he was still alive?”

  “With brain tissue on the ground? Not likely. I think they didn’t want us to have him. They were afraid we might ID the body.”

  “What about the woman?”

  “My guess is they expected her to keep her mouth shut. There was no point in them cleaning up if we got here right away.”

  Egan scowled. “Maybe. But something about this stinks.”

  Gaines nodded in agreement. “A lot of things smell funny of late.” He rolled his head to loosen the tension building in his neck. “Maybe we will learn something from the prints.”

  Chapter 39

  Dawn was little more than a metallic glow in the east. The water was still slate gray as a float plane circled low over the lake. The pilot throttled back for a long, low approach in the dim light. He skimmed above the water looking for floating logs, then climbed up and away. The plane arced in a wide circle then touched down where it made the first pass. White spray flew up from the pontoons until the craft settled in then came to a stop where it rocked gently, moving on waves generated by itself.

  A motorboat cut across the lake toward the plane. Kurt Clemson stood at the helm his head rising above the windscreen sending his hair flogging in the wind. Louis Speers slouched down in his seat below the cool early morning air.

  “I hate boats!” Louis grumbled as they slowed nearing the aircraft.

  The cargo door on the plane swung open. A man, broad in the shoulders, stepped out onto the pontoon. As the Chris-Craft pulled along side he reached for the painter coiled on the foredeck and clove hitched it to the strut of the plane. Then he pulled the boat’s hull alongside.

  Speers and Clemson wrestled an awkward object. It looked similar to an Army duffle bag but twice as long.

  “Damn this son-of-a-bitch is heavy.” Speers said, nursing his foul mood.

  The man on the pontoon grasped one end and easily heaved it up onto the pontoon. The lower end slipped off and dipped into the water, with a splash.

  “Damn it!” Speers lower pant’s legs were sodden. He flipped his hands up in disgust as though washing himself of dealing with their burden.

  The man grasped the sack and with an effort thrust it into the plane.

  “You should get more exercise,” he said.

  “Dump it over Canada.”

  The broad shoulder man nodded. He released the clove hitch and tossed the line onto the Chris Craft’s varnished deck. Without a parting word he easily pulled himself into the plane’s fuselage and closed the hatch. The boat idled away and then kicked up a rooster tail as it accelerated away with a roar.

  Momentarily the plane’s propeller began to turn and the craft came back to life. In the gray light it picked up speed, rose above the lake dripping water, then staying low above the treetops it sped northward.

  *

  At eight o’clock that morning the Sheriff arrived at his office. He found little sleep the night before as his mind roamed over the recent crime wave in Red Lake. It all led back to Eddie Ames. Was his widow right when she said there was something wrong about his death? As soon as Harry Grim began nosing around trouble began.

  While he thought about events, he opened the budget file hoping to finish it before lunch. The little money that was left to work with convinced him not to open up an official investigation into Eddie’s death. Grim seemed to be doing a fine job of stirring up the hornets nest. Wait and see. Meanwhile, there were things he could do that cost little money.

  He buzzed the deputy on the desk. Cary Randall was the first woman in the department. It was not because Gaines opposed women in the force, rather no one ever applied before her. She was as good as anyone with a gun. Gavin suspected that under fire she would be cooler headed then many. She came out of the Iraq war with combat experience despite the governments “official” policy concerning women in combat.

  “Carey, contact Mitch Conners, he pulled a vehicle tag off our security cameras the other day. Two guys who claimed to be FBI were driving it.”

  “Claimed?”

  “The Bureau never heard of them.”

  “Anything else?”

  “If we can find them, I want them brought in as material witnesses on yesterdays alleged murder. They may try to bluff, tell our guys not to take any crap.”

  “Do we have a description?”

  “Go through the down loaded clips. Print the best still shot you can off the video but first check around with our patrols. We may not need it.”

  As an after thought Gavin added, “I want backup for whoever finds them. I suspect these guys are Feds but I don’t want someone getting shot because they were not and we got careless.”

  As Cary went out, Pat Egan came in.

  “I got the results on the prints. The owner of the house served in the Air Force, so his prints are on file. The only other latent we identified was a Sergeant in the Marine Corps, one Riley Lance Crawford who died in Iraq. The owner of the house never heard of him but our print man swears they’re fresh. Multiple overlays on the owners.”

  “Anything else?”

  “We can run DNA on the tissue. If he’s in the system we can get a match, but it takes four weeks.”

  “Skip it. I have a tight budget and no corpse. If the body shows up we’ll put some money into it, but I wouldn’t bet on it. I think whoever cleaned out the house knew what they were doing.”

  An hour later Carey interrupted the Sheriff’s paperwork.

  “Jimmy Hughes radioed in, he found the sedan. It’s at the Arrow Lodge Motel out Route 12.”

  Gaines turned up the radio in his office.

  “This is Conner. I’m about three miles away and can provide backup.”

  Jimmy came back, “Pull around back. They are in the end unit”.

  “We should see our boys soon,” Gavin said with a satisfied smile

  At the Arrow Lodge Motel, Jimmy’s cruiser was parked on the highway in front of the office. Mitch Conner cruised down the rear side and parked. He took his twelve-gauge shotgun with him.

  The door to number 16 was at the outside corner of the cinderblock structure. Mitch stayed around the corner as Jimmy knocked on the door.

  “Police!”

  The door opened and Louis Speers looked out.

  “I’d like you to come with me for questioning.” Jimmy was young and the words came out shrill. Had they been the sort to open fire rather than talk Jimmy would already be dead.

  Speers poked a finger into Jimmy’s chest.

  “Do you know who you’re fucking with?” He jabbed again and Jimmy moved back.

  Speers followed. “Now, get lost.”

  As he finished speaking Mitch put the shotgun to the side of Speers head and racked the load. It is a sound that stops most anyone.

  “That was assaulting an officer. You are under arrest. Now back up this way and let your traveling buddy come out with his hands up.”

  Jimmy belatedly drew his gun. Kurt Clemson, came out with his hands up.

  “Listen son, were Federal Agents.”

  “Hook him up, Jimmy,” Mitch said. Then he reached under Speers jacket and pulled the .357 from the holster on his belt. He cuffed him using only one hand. The barrel of the gun never left Speers head.

  “My gun is in on the bed,” Clemson said.

  Pat him down Jimmy. After he’s in the car you can lock
the room. We better get a search warrant before we enter.”

  Mitch patted Speers down. He found a throwing knife and another gun in an ankle holster. Speers muttered curses under his breath but did not resist.

  Jimmy walked the men over and put them in the rear seat of Mitch’s cruiser.

  *

  On the drive in, Clemson assured Mitch this was all a misunderstanding. As for Speers, he voiced veiled threats.

  At the station Mitch brought the men into the Sheriff’s office. He set an evidence bag with the men’s possessions on the desk.

  Sheriff Gaines smiled. “Thanks for coming in.”

  Clemson smiled. “You’ve had your little fun Sheriff, now take off these cuffs before your dig yourself a hole you can’t get out of.”

  “I understand you assaulted my officer.”

  “Cut the crap. I’m warning you, one call and you are going to be buried under more red tape, tax audits, and Homeland Security inspections than you could deal with if you lived to be a hundred.”

  The words came out with poorly veiled rage.

  Gaines pulled the cell phones out of the bags.

  “Well, well. I didn’t know they gave you FBI boys satellite phones, works anywhere in the world. Pretty good reception, huh? Of course how would you know, since the FBI is not supposed to operate outside the United States?”

  Gaines played with the phone. Clemson held an almost inexpressive face, but his irritation showed as his pursed lips flexed.

  “And would that call, you are threatening to make, be on this cheap throwaway or this satellite phone? It looks like the budget became thin when your partner got a phone?

  Gaines put the phone down on his desk. “Of more interest, when you do call, who will be on the other end of the line?”

  Neither Speers nor Klemson responded

  “Mitch, pull the cuffs. Gentlemen you can have a seat.”

  They sat. “What do you want Sheriff?” Clemson spoke as if to a truculent child.

  “I’d like to know what went down at the lake yesterday.”

  “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

  “We had an anonymous call about a body. When we got there we did not find one.”

  “Probably some guy’s idea of a joke.”

  Gaines shook his head slowly. “Not gonna help me huh?”