“Hope the M.E. gets here fast,” Matt said as he turned back to the woman, stabbed at her chest with the swab. “Look, Doug, she had fake boobies. Whatever ripped her up popped them open, proper.”
As the cop next to Doug threw up again, he said, “Wonder what would do that to a person?”
The ruts gouged in the young woman from her throat to her vagina didn’t tell them a thing, other than they didn’t want to see what had made the marks.
“Some nut ball,” Matt declared, taking off his hat for a moment to wipe his brow with the back of his hand. “Has to be it, Sheriff. See how the line of these ruts run? No animal did this. They are like machetes or tiny train tracks.”
“A mystery for the M.E. Mr. Loring,” Doug glanced at Tim again and thought of the man’s wife. “He didn’t have any kids. I suppose that’s one less headache.”
Alex recovered somewhat and confessed, “I’d never want to have to tell a woman that her husband is dead.”
Doug ruminated; I ought to let my brother Andrew tell her. Tim Dinsdale fucked him out of two promotions and confined him to the bookbindery. He may do it as a singing telegram.
He pondered the hatred Andrew sported for Dinsdale, but banished any thoughts of his brothers’ anger reaching such a level as this crime. Andrew was a hunter and a mouthy biker, but this…was beyond him.
***
Elias arose before sunlight, did a number of feedings and returned to his trailer for breakfast as the sun bathed the fields. His father before him taught him to get the tedious work of the day through first and then start with coffee and a meal. As he scrambled some eggs, he looked across the way at Luella’s trailer. Her working dog Duke appeared via the dog door to perform his morning necessities.
When he ate, Elias couldn’t share Mr. Solow’s optimism that everything would be fine and Hawg would come home, no harm to anyone. His stomach burned with dread. Elias turned on the radio and listened to the local station. Content that there was no news concerning anything unusual, he finished his breakfast.
The dull growl from Duke outside made him put down his fork and wipe his mouth. Elias got up and peered out his door.
Duke stared into an empty planter, usually used for flowers in the summer. Though Luella couldn’t see them, she liked their fine scent when reading her Braille books in the afternoon warmth. Duke growled into the oblong box, angry at whatever was there.
Elias exited his house and waited at the edge of his deck. Duke peeped up at him, but then returned his gaze to the planter. The old man stepped across the small distance, curiosity growing as he walked.
He peered down into the planter and the dog backed away from it. Inside lay a pile of pulpy guts, a liver and a portion of a heart. Elias squatted down and touched the bits.
“Half assed warm,” he sighed and shook his head. “Dammit Hawg, this ain’t good.”
***
“Look, Mr. Sullivan,” Doug said as he regarded the smear of shit on the driveway. “I have bigger issues this morning than your vandalism.”
“That’s Mayor Sullivan to you, officer,” Jack snapped, chin up high. “I want these fools caught. I have my pride. I want a complete investigation of this area.”
Hiding his distain for people wasn’t his strong suit but Doug soldiered on. “Look, Mayor,” he said with a stern voice, eyes fixed on the Mayor. “A farmer on his way for coffee at the grain elevator found two dead bodies not two miles from here.” He hoped Sullivan’s expression would soften at these words but he came up snake eyes.
“Yes? Who are they?”
“It’s a very unusual crime. I believe both of them worked for you at the printing plant.”
Jack frowned but said nothing more.
Doug reached to his breast pocket for a fresh toothpick and said, “That deal and Reverend Wingler’s daughter never came home last night. You ought to have a minister and his wife raving at you on the phone.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed, but his anger still boiled. “Sorting out dead bodies or where a slut preacher’s daughter passed out isn’t my concern. I have a business to run.”
Betty appeared from the house, smiling. She had dressed for the day in a smart lime green suit and applied too much make up. Betty was almost ready to leave for her job in the county recorder of deeds office when she pointed at the grass near the edge of the drive. “Sheriff White, I think this is a clue.”
The burly cop turned around and took a few steps toward where she pointed. Down to his haunches, Doug reached down.
Hands in the air, Jack raged, “No rubber gloves or anything? You’ll never catch these men!”
Doug’s voice was steady as he replied, “This isn’t television and this is just a dog collar.” He picked up the object and held it up in the morning light. “No prints will be had on such fabric, but there is blood on it.” Doug opened a small case on his belt and drew out a tiny baggie. Depositing the collar in the bag, he said, “Probably the same as the stuff on your hood, but we’ll have to see. As I said, the guys will be busy today with the two bodies. I’m sure the team will be over as soon as they can, Mr. Mayor.” Sarcasm dropped from Doug’s words as he towered again, leering at Jack.
Though he didn’t appear any more consoled, Jack put his hands to his hips and said, “How did they die, these two people?”
Hands to his lower spine, Doug stretched and said, “One bled to death, the other was ripped open, maybe by a wolf or something.”
Eyes narrowing, Jack wondered, “Or something?”
With a shrug, Doug let his hands dangle and said, “It’s kind of a mystery, but that doesn’t make her any deader. We need to get next of kin notified before this gets out of control.”
Jack’s expression darkened. “What do you mean? This wasn’t some gang land execution murder, was it?”
Now it was Doug’s turn to be confused and wonder what was in Sullivan’s head. “It’s a weird gang, if that’s the case. I’ll keep you informed, Mayor. We’ll get to this car business as soon as we can.”
When Doug started to walk back to his cruiser, Jack exclaimed, “What about my Buick? How am I supposed to get to work?”
Doug gestured at Sullivan’s wife, starting to get into an older model Nissan. “Car pool it, Mayor. I can’t think of everything.”
Once back in the car with Alex, the younger officer rubbed an eye and said, “What a dickhead, Sheriff.”
“That he is,” Doug affirmed as he took off his hat. “I pity those who work for him.”
Doug pitied a third of Miller’s Fork, Illinois.
***
Hawg was awakened in the crypt and he didn’t like what he heard.
“Yeah, this place is out of the way, but kind of like hiding in plain sight. We can blow off morning class at least.”
“Old Route 66 is right there and people drive on by. Cool.”
“Yeah.”
“This weed is killer, Bruce.”
“Potent trip weed, Paul. Scored it from the promised land.”
“Columbia?”
“No, Woodford County.”
Hawg started to dislodge himself from between the stone coffins as the laughter of the male voices skipped across his mind. He could smell their flesh and the arid odor they brought with them.
“Check it out, Bruce, these are graves from before the Civil War.”
“When was that anyways?”
“No wonder you suck in history class.”
“Get bent, Paul. See, this gal died before 1861. Aw man, look at that! At the end of this grave it just says BABY. Eerie man.”
Coughs echoed in Hawg’s ears as he slipped out of the crypt the rest of the way, just out of their sight. He stared up at the neighboring crypt that bore no door, but several bars. The letters etched on it were familiar to him.
“Wonder if it was stillborn? Reckon lots of kids were back then.”
“Shitty hospitals and all. Hey, Paul, you ever see the Witch’s Chair?”
“Heard of it for ye
ars. The grave where if you sit in it, you die?”
“Some drunk kids sat in it and wrecked years ago, my older brother said, but yeah, that’s the story.”
“One of them there Urban Legends, Bruce?”
“We aren’t too urban. There it is.”
Hawg kept low to the ground and behind the shrubs, watching the two skinny teens stare at a large brown tombstone. Indeed, it resembled a seat with a high back on it. Hawg looked up through the greenery and saw the outstretched arms of a stone figure. He’d seen this persona above him before. It was God.
“Paul, I heard there is an inscription on the chair, something about ‘he would sits here will disappear’ or something like that.”
“Back here, Bruce. See, its all faded and washed out. I think it says something about a chair being empty so you’ll be missed.”
“Check it out! A pentagram! Stars, man!”
Hawg passed water in the grass and his tongue ran over his teeth. These fools stank. One was blonde, the other darker haired, but that one was very plump. His partner was lean, powerful, slender legs. Hawg’s tusks thrust out farther, saliva dripping from them.
“What reeks around here, man?”
“Waitaminute. This is a guy in the grave. See? His name is Dana Wellman, but he was a General, not a witch. Dana can be a girl’s name. What a load of bullshit.”
Hawg rose up on his hind legs.
“So, if I sit here, like so, I ain’t gonna die?”
***
Lynne White was ready for class to begin when her cell phone rang. Normally, she turned it off before the start of the day, but duties had kept her from this action. “Yes, Andrew, what is it?”
“Hey there, love the caller ID. Thought I’d tell ya this quick, hon. Talked to the Ellingtons up the way?”
“Yes?”
“This is gonna break yer heart. Genesis is dead.”
“Cry me a river,” Lynne replied with scant emotion, eyes skimming the papers in front of her. “Hope they aren’t fool enough to get another one.”
“Figured that’d make you tear up.”
“She get hit by a car? That elephant would wreck someone badly.”
“Naw, Lucas said Genesis was mangled up like by a pack of wolves. Weird.”
“Wolves? Interesting. Well, I have to run. Thanks for the heart warming news.”
“My pleasure.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, hon.”
Lynne turned the phone off and thought she felt better with wolves in the neighborhood than a pit bull.
***
Mr. Solow was mixing batter in the sink when Elias stepped into the back door.
“Morning, sir.”
“Good morning, Elias.” Still turning the batter, Solow let a few moments pass before he said, “No, Hawg never came back.”
“He was near Luella Goodkind, sir. He left some meats for her in the potter. I don’t think it was from no animal.”
Solow nodded and said, “Fetch me the Tupperware container from the bottom of the frig. I’m looking forward to a good lunch today from what we took yesterday.”
Elias took out the green container and felt the contents roll around some. He didn’t feel very hungry as he contemplated the pig’s balls.
CHAPTER THREE Deepening
Micki Wingler woke up several yards from the road where Hawg assaulted her. The pain from her crotch sliced so intense she cried out as soon as lucidity gripped her. The agony emanated from the wound in an unending stab, not in waves like she’d read about in books. Tears flowed over her grubby face, marred by mascara, sweat and dried tears. Her left hand reached down to feel of herself and pulled back fast. The pain increased and she decided it didn’t matter what damage was done. The hurt was all she understood.
The wind blew a bit and the icy pains made Micki think the edges of her hipbones were exposed to the air. She felt like she had to urinate and couldn’t stop the action. Micki wept again as she couldn’t stop the water from running from her, adding to the burn and pain down below.
She cried out for Hux, but the words muffled. Her throat full of mucus, nothing but a bubbly wail escaped her lips. Micki actuated her head and a geyser of pain rippled across his shoulders and flowed down her spine. Micki experienced portions of her body she never recognized were there before…never would she have believed one’s earlobes, little toes or clitoris could hurt so bad. She felt like her clit was shoved up to her bellybutton. Micki reached down and could no longer feel the stud in her tummy.
The brutal sensations felt like a dozen bones all over her broke in the attack. Still, she could move, though her pelvis felt in worse pain than the rest of her. Micki aimed to shut it out, to ignore anything below her waist, but the constant pain refused to allow this. She cried out again but heard no one nearby.
Attack? In all of her hurting, that word seemed rather light. Violated, raped, ripped open afterwards and left for dead, she couldn’t put a word on it. She thought of demons or monsters her father preached about in fiery sermons meant to scare people out of Hell. This was no fairy tale destined to tempt the bladders of preschoolers and her body was ruined.
Long since fallen from the graces of her father’s faith, Micki did something she hadn’t done in earnest for years.
She prayed. She prayed to die. After so much blood loss and being exposed to the elements, Micki couldn’t understand how she lived. If the loss of blood didn’t get her soon, she assumed the pneumonia would. Her nose clogged with snot and her lungs rasped shallow. Pain gouged her shoulders at her collarbones.
The sound of a crow cackled in the distance.
Her torture carried on until Micki turned herself over. Terrible fires of pain ravaged her again and she flipped back onto her buttocks. Crazed with pain, she kept pushing herself, shoving her body into the tall grasses away from the dirt road. The dead weeds formed a thin wall, but it felt good, almost cloaking. She liked it.
Overwhelmed, she passed out again.
***
Douglas White closed his notepad and stepped out of the empty field near the Ellington’s place. He flipped open his cell phone and pressed a button.
“Yeah, Billy? After you are done taking pictures of Dinsdale and the girl, head on up the road a piece. You know the Ellington’s that live past my brother? Yeah, well their dog was killed last night. Pretty damned bad. Yeah, I know they have a pit bull. Whatever killed it, didn’t seem to mind.”
Lucas Ellington stared at Doug with steely gray eyes. His complexion was pale from years of working third shift at Ambrose Brothers Printing. Though not terribly upset, he lowered his voice and said, “Let me get this straight, Doug. Something like this happened not far from here?”
Doug turned to Lucas and confessed, “Yeah. No need to make a major case of it, Lucas. A couple were killed not a mile or two down the way, out parking, you see?”
Eyes widening, Lucas said, “Maybe you should warn everyone, Doug. No man did that to Genesis. A pack of wolves, maybe, but the ground in the field here is soft and I see no series of prints.”
Matt squatted on his haunches, eyes scanning the spot where the chain link fence ended and the muddy field began. “Look, here sir.”
Doug walked over to his fellow officer and Lucas followed him. Both men inspected the spot where Matt pointed. “That’s no wolf print, sir, but what would you call it?”
He blinked and then rubbed his chin. “All right, Mr. Ellington. Looks like Satan killed your dog.” He then stared into Ellington’s face and asked, “What’s it seem like to you? Still think I should tell everyone about this?”
Lucas saw what they all beheld: A set of prints, deep in the damp dirt, each track split. “Cloven hooves?”
Doug sighed at Lucas’s pronouncement. “There has to be a more rational explanation, of course. I’m still seaching, though.”
Matt stood, shook his head and said, “Maybe a mean assed wild boar?”
Still near the ground, Doug extended hi
s hand and touched the print on the left. “Awful big for a danged boar, fellows. It does look like a pig’s split hoof though, not like that of a bull.”
Alex giggled, half in shock, saying, “We better go ask Mr. Solow if his pigs have gone hog wild.”
Matt half laughed but the other two men didn’t. Doug stood, exhaled loud and said, “We better visit everyone around here. If there is something wild around, then it may have scarfed a few piggies at the Solow place.”
As Matt took a call on his phone, Alex said, “Wow. You think it’s Bigfoot? You recall when Bigfoot was spotted down by Mahomet in the eighties?”
Doug waved at the tracks. “I remember that. No. Not with prints like that I don’t think it’s any such thing. As I said, there’s a rational explanation someplace to all this. That’s what we get the big money for, right?”
They walked back to the cruisers in Lucas’s yard. When they reached the police cars, Matt closed his phone and said, “That’s dispatch. They say Reverend Wingler is still missing his daughter. He wanted us to know, again.”
Doug shook his head, eyes to the heavens. “You tell him his daughter is a crack-whore and will put out her ass for a fix?”
“Nope.”
“Good, but she still could be anywhere. I reckon she stays out plenty of nights. Wonder why that Holy Roller is so upset this time?”
Matt rolled his eyes heavenward and then said out of the corner of his mouth to the sheriff, “I bet the old blowhard knows where she is, probably wants us to do his job for him.”
Doug looked to the sky once and said, “You’d know about gals who stay out all night, Matthew.”
Matt wore a devilish grin and walked around the car. “Not guilty this time, sir.”
Lucas stiffened as the police started to get back into their cars. He asked Doug, “Do you have kids?”
Doug said, “Lucas, you know I have two.”
Pressing his point, Lucas said, “I don’t care how old they are or worthless, will you stop worrying about them?”
Lucas turned, not waiting for an answer.
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