Blood and Justice

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Blood and Justice Page 8

by Rayven T. Hill


  Peering ahead, Annie could see the pathway continued on, winding among the trees. She couldn’t see how far, and kept on. She was suddenly startled by a flock of blackbirds peeling themselves away from the treetops, squawking and screeching as they went, probably looking for another private perch, away from unwanted intruders.

  She calculated she was in about a quarter of a mile, when the path petered out into a small clearing. Around her were untold acres of leaves, branches, and rotting tree stumps.

  She was confident she was on the right track. The soil samples from the underside of Bronson’s vehicle had to have come from this area. There’s nowhere else for miles around fitting the botanical forensic report. She was confident in Sammy’s expertise, and was determined to keep looking.

  Friday, August 12th, 10:12 AM

  JAKE’S PHONE buzzed in his pocket. He dug it out.

  “This is Jake.”

  “Jake, it’s Chris. He’s here now. The security cameras just caught him coming in the front doors.”

  “Are you in your office?”

  “Yup.”

  “Ok, see the row of buttons there on the equipment? There should be one saying ‘Record’. Hit that button.”

  “Ok, done.”

  “That starts all of the cameras recording. Keep an eye on the live monitor now, and see if he hits the jewelry counter. In the meantime, I’m about finished here, so I’ll head on over. I’m on my way as I speak. See you in ten.”

  A uniformed cop, just leaving the station, whipped his head around and frowned as Jake backed out and squealed away. Jake never worried about speeding tickets. He always managed to avoid them. Almost always. And right now, he made double time as he shot the few blocks to Cranstons, screeching into the taxi waiting area in front of the store.

  He knew Chris could probably handle the situation, but he wanted to earn his pay. Besides, it could be fun.

  Chris saw him coming and beckoned frantically. “He’s there now. It’s a different girl at the counter today. He probably wanted to avoid seeing the same one.”

  They watched the monitors.

  Jake grinned. “Look at that envelope he’s carrying. He’s gonna try again.”

  “Yeah, and it’ll be the last time.”

  They saw the girl reach into the showcase and remove a tray of rings. They saw the large envelope put into play. They saw the distraction, and the grab, and finally they read his lips: ‘Not today. Thank you very much’ with a nod and a smile as he moved away.

  “Let’s go”, Chris said. “I’ll take the front door, you take the side.”

  “Remember, wait till he leaves the store,” Jake warned.

  “No problem. I’ve done this before.”

  Chris walked quickly toward the front of the store, while Jake hurried to the side. He zipped past the line at the cash registers, and took a quick look back. The thief wasn’t coming yet, so he stepped outside, and moved around the corner out of sight.

  He called Chris’s cell. “I’m out here now. Any sign of him there?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Hey, don’t you guys have any walkie-talkies for this?”

  Chris laughed. “Cell phones work better.”

  They waited for a few minutes. Jake could hear Chris humming some ‘80’s tune. Or was it from the ‘70’s. He wasn’t sure.

  The doors whirred open and closed a few times. Mothers with babies. Some old guy. A couple of girls, probably skipping school.

  “Ok, I see him,” Jake whispered. “He’s coming out.”

  Jake moved in behind the suspect. He tapped him on the shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said.

  The man spun around. “Yes?”

  “I need you to come with me.”

  The man frowned and cocked his head. “What’s this all about?”

  “Just come with me please.” Jake grabbed him firmly by the arm. “Back inside,” he ordered.

  The thief tried to pull free but Jake’s grip allowed no possibility of freedom.

  Chris was coming their way as Jake escorted the man inside. He grabbed the other arm. “Care for this dance?” he said.

  The man scowled at him, but offered no resistance as he was marched across the store to the security office. Chris shut the door quietly behind them.

  “Empty your pockets.”

  “You have no right to hold me,” the man said arrogantly.

  “Actually, we do. You’re on private property and we have proof you stole a ring from the jewelry department.” Chris pointed to the monitors. “Right there, scumbag.”

  There was a tap on the office door and it was pushed open. A security guard poked his head in. Jake and Chris turned at the sound.

  The thief was waiting for any opportunity. And there it was. He dove headfirst to the floor, and scrambling and rolling, he slipped past the legs of the guard, spinning to his feet. He stumbled for a moment catching his balance, and ran.

  Jake reacted. Chris was right behind him. They chased him down a long aisle, before he came to a quick stop and vaulted over a counter leading to the hardware department. He stumbled as he landed, but quickly gained his feet, pushing aside a couple of kids as he ran, knocking one crying to the floor. Jake vaulted the counter behind him, but the man had taken another turn and headed for the stock room.

  Chris was still behind, on his cell, calling for the other guards to watch the doors. “Don’t let anybody out!” he yelled.

  The large metal doors leading to the stock room burst open as the thief hit them, barely slowing down. The impact caused him to stumble and fall, but he landed like a cat and was up again.

  Jake dove for him and caught him by the pant leg. His grip slipped and he was left holding a shoe. The man was up and running, but Jake reached back into his football years at high school and the shoe flew from his hand, smashing the runner squarely in the back of his head.

  He went down face first.

  Jake had him. While twisting his right arm securely behind his back, he forced him to his feet.

  Chris walked over. He was steaming. Whacking the thief in the chest with his open hand, he rammed him back against the concrete wall. The blow caused the thief’s head to bounce against the wall a couple of times. His eyes rolled.

  Chris’s face was two inches away. “You run again, you scumbag, and next time you’ll go right through the wall.”

  The scumbag just glared back, held securely to the wall.

  Another security guard came running.

  “Call the police,” Chris said. “Let’s get this guy out of here.

  Friday, August 12th, 11:15 AM

  ANNIE HAD SPENT the last few minutes walking back and forth, up and down, combing the area where she was sure Bronson’s vehicle had been. She was looking for tire tracks, footprints, anything. Anything unusual at all.

  The rich earthy smell of the nearby swamp filled her nostrils. She watched a squirrel scamper up a tree and disappear in the foliage above. A sparrow chirped. A woodpecker tapped.

  What had he been doing here? There’s got to be something I’m missing.

  She examined the forest floor several yards ahead. Near the edge of the clearing, she noticed a slight dipping of the earth, as if the ground has sunken. Walking over, she bent down and brushed away some of the dead leaves and twigs. The soil below was rich and soft. She felt it with her fingers.

  She brushed away more of the decaying undergrowth.

  A footprint!

  It was a child’s footprint. Barely detectable but unmistakable. She stared at it for a moment, and then carefully swept more and more.

  Lots of footprints!

  She pulled out her cell and snapped a few pictures. The whole area, and then a couple close-ups of the clearest footprint. Tucking away her phone, she scooped out a handful of soil, and frowned. Why are there undecayed twigs and leaves under the soil? As if the ground had been disturbed here. Recently.

  She stood up and stepped back. She should have brought the shovel. It was still i
n the trunk of her car, so she’ll have to go back and get it. She looked at her watch. Lots of time.

  She hurried back to her car and popped the trunk. A vehicle zipped by on the road, heading for the horizon. She removed the shovel, slammed the trunk, and made her way back to the trees, the shovel slung over her shoulder.

  Using the shovel, she scraped back the ground, layer by layer. She worked for several minutes. It was cool under the canopy of leaves and branches, but she stopped to wipe her forehead on the sleeve of her shirt. She swatted at a mosquito buzzing around her head.

  Then dug more and more.

  Even down a couple of feet, there was still a trace of undecayed leaves mixed in with the soil. She was on the right track.

  Her shovel hit something solid. She tossed it aside and dug at the area with her hand. Digging and scraping and brushing.

  It was a shoe!

  Pointing upward.

  She jumped back in horror, stumbling over a branch, and fell on her buttocks. She sat there a moment, mouth and eyes wide, breathing fast. She stared at the shoe in disbelief.

  She was afraid what she might find attached to that shoe.

  She wanted to run. She just wanted to get out of there. But gritting her teeth, she summoned her bravery and edged over to the hole. Not wanting to, but as if forced involuntarily, she gently brushed away the soil around the shoe, bit by bit.

  Then she realized she had found what she hadn’t wanted to. What she had thought may be hidden in this forest, but had hoped wasn’t here at all.

  She wasn’t wrong.

  There was a leg attached to that shoe.

  She called 9-1-1.

  Chapter 14

  Friday, August 12th, 11:55 AM

  OLD EDNA BELLOWS was rather a kindly soul. Always optimistic and cheerful, but lonely. Everyone she had known was dead now. She’d had so many funerals to attend, she couldn’t get to them all. At eighty-nine years old, her savings had long run dry. Now she had to settle for living in a small apartment in a wretched old building that should have been long ago condemned. The government check she received each month barely covered her dwelling space, with little left for food to keep her energy up.

  Nonetheless, life goes on. She sighed to herself as she counted out the few remaining coins rattling around in her cookie jar. Just enough for a bit of bread, maybe a pack of chicken wieners, the no-name brand, and maybe a jar of marmalade.

  “Sounds like a feast to me,” she chuckled.

  She was too proud to use one of those silly walkers the old folks were using these days. She grasped the handle of a well-worn cane as she removed it from the doorknob. She tied a scarf over her thin gray hair, fastening it firmly under her chin. Grabbing her handbag, she made her way out to the hallway, locking the door carefully behind her.

  She was glad to be on the second floor. Only two flights to climb. With the elevator not working, as usual, it took her some time to make it to the street, and hugging her cane with one hand, handbag clutched in the other, she moved haltingly down the sidewalk toward her destination.

  She hummed a happy tune as she went. She smiled a sweet hello to everyone passing her on the sidewalk, but most of them didn’t have time for a useless old woman. She didn’t care. It was a lovely day and she felt refreshed.

  The door at Mortinos opened automatically as she approached it. She was still amazed at how that could possibly work, but it always seemed to, so she slipped through the door confidently.

  Picking out her purchases didn’t take much time at all because her list was so short. Passing by the meat department she thought, oh my, that looks good. Her eye had been on a nice juicy pork chop, nestled securely in its styrofoam coffin, covered with a blanket of thin plastic wrap. It seemed to be calling her name. She dug in her purse again and counted her coins. Not enough. She moved along the counter. She looked back. Her mouth watered.

  A devil appeared on her shoulder, probing her with its wicked thoughts. Tempting her. Goading her.

  Poor Mrs. Bellows had never stolen anything in her life, and she certainly didn’t intend to start now. But the vision of that lovely chop sizzling on her grill, the smell of hot juices filling her nose, fork and knife ready, were more than her feeble will could take.

  A quick look in either direction, and with a deft move she slid the awaiting feast to the front of the case and into her handbag. She immediately felt a touch of guilt, but insufficient to cause a change of mind. She walked her slow walk toward the checkouts at the front of the store, now empowered by the devil on her shoulder.

  Friday, August 12th, 12:35 PM

  JEREMY HAD BEEN BUSY. The boss was working him hard today. One thing after another. Right now, he was busy piling up cartons of macaroni and cheese, as high, maybe higher, than he could reach. He’d had to get a stepladder to help him.

  He stood on the top rung, hoping the ladder wouldn’t wobble and send him crashing down. He looked around. From his vantage point, he could almost see the whole store. Crowds at the registers, people picking at vegetables, and some old hag looking at the meat.

  Then he frowned and stared hard. He couldn’t believe it. The old hag had stuffed a package of meat in her purse and was now making off with it.

  He sighed and climbed off his perch, taking one careful step after another, and followed the woman toward the front of the store. As he walked past her, he peeped slyly into her handbag. Yup, still there.

  “I’ve got a delivery to make. Be back soon,” he spoke to the manager as he neared the front of the store.

  The manager just grunted and went on reading from his clipboard.

  Jeremy slipped past the registers and out the front door. He stood outside, around the corner against the wall, where he couldn’t be seen from the front.

  In a few minutes, he saw the old hag, working her cane, hobbling through the exit. He knew stealing wasn’t stealing until they left the store, so just to make sure, he walked past her again, checking her bag. Yeah, still there. He ducked into an alley, letting her get ahead of him, and then strolled out and followed her.

  Because she moved so slowly, it took some time, but finally they reached the run-down dwelling where he supposed she lived. Jeremy slipped inside behind her as she sweetly held the door open for him.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  She went to the right, so he went left. As she opened the stairwell door, he turned around and headed back in her direction. Keeping out of sight, he made the slow uphill climb, one plodding step after another.

  Two floors later, he watched her through the stairwell exit, and into the hallway. Second door down. She fiddled with her handbag, pulling out a single key on a rabbit’s foot chain. She worked it into the lock, pushed open the door and entering her humble living space.

  Jeremy pushed out his foot and stopped her door from completely closing, and then pushed it open a couple of feet. She was facing him, holding her cane out, as if about to hang it on the doorknob.

  Her eyes, and then her mouth, popped open. She asked, “What is it young man? Are you the new neighbor?” She always liked meeting the new neighbors. People came and went in this place, but she liked to meet them all.

  Jeremy let the door close behind him. “No, I’m not your neighbor,” he said. “I’m from Mortinos, and I know what you did.” He looked menacingly at her. She started to quiver in fear. She was caught! “I saw you take the meat. You shouldn’t take the meat. That’s stealing. You’re not supposed to steal.”

  Poor Mrs. Bellows was in shock, her conscience too filled with guilt, to see Jeremy reach down and lift his pant leg. She didn’t see him pull his top-quality Bowie knife from its sheath. She only grunted as the knife entered her body. Her eyes were still wide, as she slumped to the floor.

  Jeremy bent down. He wiped the knife clean on her dress, and put it back in its sheath.

  The blood from the wound in her chest soaked her dress, the warm thick liquid, pooling on the worn-out carpet.

  He reached
out and touched the wound. The tip of his finger was crimson. As he put it to his tongue, he closed his eyes, and immediately felt a swelling of exultation and ecstasy.

  He remained silent. The excitement caused his breathing to become rapid, and his heart raced, as he relished the euphoric feeling overtaking him.

  The blood on his tongue mixed with saliva, and was gone.

  He opened his eyes slowly, and then stood and watched her.

  Her eyes flickered and remained still, and unseeing, gone to join her long gone friends.

  Chapter 15

  Friday, August 12th, 12:55 PM

  JAKE GOT THERE before the cops did.

  Annie had called him after reporting her discovery to the police. She was waiting in front of her car when he roared up, pulled a u-turn, and stopped behind her vehicle.

  She ran to him as he stepped out, and held on. He could feel her shaking, and he held her tight. He tried to soothe her, calm her down.

  “It’s all right now. Relax, honey,” he said.

  She soon stopped shaking, his strong, safe, arms around her.

  “I didn’t get a look at the face,” she said. “I only saw one foot. It looks like a man’s shoe.”

  “At least we know it’s not Jenny.”

  In the distance, Jake could see some approaching vehicles. Three police cars pulled up, and Jake waved the first one over. A uniform was driving, Hank in the passenger seat.

  Jake pointed to the lane by the road. “In there,” he said.

  “Jump in,” Hank said. “Annie, get in.”

  They climbed in the back seat of the cruiser. Annie pointed. “Just drive up this lane into the forest, then it’s just past that.”

 

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