by D. W. Brown
About two miles outside of town, Russell noticed a small, run-down hotel and pulled in to check it out.
The place looked eerily similar to the Bates Motel in the movie Psycho, something that actually made it more intriguing to him. He’d always been fond of horror movies, especially ones where the killers stalked their prey. Everyone had a dark side, this was his. He’d just have to ensure that he checked his room for peepholes, just in case old Norman was looking in on him.
The sun was setting on the backside of the mountains to the right of the hotel, providing just enough light for Russell to navigate down the long walkway to the main office. He noticed that the majority of the
4X4 posts holding up the rickety old porch were either dry rotted or termite infested, and decided to keep a wary eye out just in case a section or two gave way.
Opening the wooden screen door, Russell was surprised to see the office finished in new cedar throughout. The smell hit his senses like a freshly baked pie just coming out of the oven. Having remodeled his sunroom in the same material about two years prior, Russell was a big fan. For the first time since boarding the plane to the crappy town, he actually started to relax a bit.
Walking up to the counter, Russell took in the wall of pictures mounted directly behind it. He noticed one of the hot air balloon festival in Albuquerque, two of what appeared to be the remodeling of the Hotel La Fonda (these made him regret not at least attempting to stay there), a picture of the mountains directly behind the place, and a picture of a family of four. This particular picture showed two younger men, and what Russell assumed to be their mother and father. They were all grinning from ear to ear, and in the background, there appeared to be some sort of big hole.
“Can I help you, mister?” Asked a hunched over older gentlemen, suddenly appearing from behind a curtain that looked like it was actually made back when the original movie, Psycho, was released.
“I...I was looking for a room for a few nights. Do you have anything available?”
“Do you have cash?”
“That depends on how much you’re planning to charge me for the room.”
“Fifty a night, but that doesn’t include maid service. If you want us to clean your room, it will cost you extra.”
“As long as you have fresh towels, I’ll handle everything else.”
“How long are you staying and what are your plans while you’re here?” The man asked.
“Look, I’m just here to relax and take in the scenery. I can assure you that I won’t go digging around on someone else’s property. I already received the list of ‘things not to do’ from the mayor’s aide.” Russell replied exasperated with the whole thing.
“Relax buddy. We’re just trying to take care of our own around here. You wouldn’t want someone...”
“No, I wouldn’t. I already told you that I heard all about it. Look, I’m a little cranky from the flight. Here’s $150. Can I get a room for three nights?” Russell asked, showing the old man his money.
“As long as you understand that the Sheriff and I are good friends, we won’t have any problems, mister.” “Sounds like the Sheriff is a pretty good man. I promise to be a good boy, and not get into any trouble.” Russell said. But with the way things were faring, he wasn’t too sure he’d be able to keep his word.
“Welcome to Taos, Mr. Jackson.”
No longer surprised that the man knew his name, Russell said, “Thanks...I didn’t catch your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t throw it at you.” The old man said with a wink. “Just kidding. I’m Pat, Pat Hensley.”
Reluctantly, Russell took the man’s bony hand in his and gently squeezed it. He was agitated enough to rip his entire arm off, but seeing the purplish looking thing extended before him, he didn’t have the heart to do so. The size reminded him of his son, Colby’s hand, minus the sunspots and wrinkles of course.
With key in hand, Russell walked to the room at the far end of the small hotel complex. Truthfully, the place was anything but a complex. It consisted of one single line of rooms, about ten total, and from what he could tell, all were vacant except for the one he’d just rented.
As soon as he pushed the door open to his room, an awful stench hit him like a slap to the face. It was so bad that he went straight to the window along the backside of the rental and threw it open. He didn’t bother shutting the front door either.
It took close to five minutes of searching before Russell finally found the source of the smell—a dirty diaper hidden underneath the bed, behind the thick legs of the headboard—it told him right away that the cleaning service hadn’t been there in quite a while; from the looks of the place, never. It was quite the change from the nice cedar smell inside the office of the hotel. Russell wanted to go back and force the manager to trade places with him for the night. Knowing it would take awhile for the room to completely air out, he decided to head back into town for some dinner and a beer.
Driving back down the same road he’d just come in on, Russell couldn’t help but feel like everyone he passed wanted him gone. An older model pickup came up behind him with its lights on bright, got within a few feet of his bumper, and abruptly whipped out into the passing lane. The passenger of the vehicle smiled and waved at him as he flew by. Instinctively, Russell reached for his .45 pistol, but it wasn’t there. He’d chosen to leave his weapon at home, because he didn’t want to deal with airport security. Now he was rethinking that decision.
Choosing once again to avoid the well lit, busy joints, Russell pulled into a small mom and pop restaurant and headed in to satisfy his growling stomach. There were only three other vehicles in the parking lot, so he thought his chances of keeping a low profile were pretty good.
Surprisingly, the interior of the diner looked very clean and smelled inviting—unlike the stinky hotel he’d just donated $150 to.
“Can we help you, Mr. Jackson?”
After a brief pause to control his rising anger, Russell said, “I just want to grab some dinner, and I’ll be on my way.”
“That’s obviously why you’re here. Now what will it be?” replied the unenthused man behind the counter.
Looking above the man, Russell scanned through the menu and said, “Just give me the open-faced roast beef sandwich and a mug of the best brew your town has to offer.”
“Rochefort Trappistes 10 is the top beer in New
Mexico. Even tourists seem to love it.”
“You actually have tourists here?” Russell knew he should’ve held off on the sarcasm, but he just couldn’t resist. Since everyone in town thought he was a tourist and treated him like dirt, he felt obligated to take a shot whenever he could throw one.
“Unfortunately, we do,” replied the man without a hint of humor, and a bit of sarcasm himself.
Looking around the restaurant at the small tables, Russell chose to take the one in the middle, because the two other patrons had already taken the left and right corners. The last thing he wanted was to be in the center, since the others already couldn’t seem to take their eyes off him.
Luckily, Russell only had to wait about five minutes for his food to arrive. He just prayed that the chef didn’t add any special sauce to his meal. The smell of his large platter of roast beef caused his stomach to growl, not embarrassing Russell in the least. After the waiter departed, he blocked his mind to everything else and dove in.
No sooner had he finished his last bite of bread, Russell heard the door open. In walked two young men and he recognized the one in the lead right off. It was the same one that had waved at him, as they passed with reckless abandon. Anger flaring, he briefly closed his eyes and tried to push back the desire to punch both of the young men in the throat.
“Looks like you’re sitting in the wrong seat, mister. Teddy and I sit here every time we come to this resta
urant.”
Slowly opening his eyes, Russell looked up at the two young men. Trying his best to keep his cool, he said, “Sorry about that, I was just leaving.” Wiping his mouth, Russell got up to leave.
The young man closest to him wrapped his hand around Russell’s shoulder and attempted to shove him back down into the seat. Without hesitation, Russell wrested it from his deltoids, and bent the man’s wrist backwards. The partner moved in to help after yelling a few curse words Russell’s way. One swift kick to the man’s groin sent him to his knees on the tiled floor of the restaurant. Yanking the other man’s arm high into the air, Russell waited until he lifted his chin enough for a blow. A millisecond later, a left jab sent him joining his friend. While both young men flailed around on the floor, Russell reached into his wallet and pulled out $20 to pay for his food and drink. Turning the mug of beer up, he killed what was remaining and left the premises before the entire town came after him en masse.
Back outside in the warm air, Russell smiled at what he’d done. He hadn’t been in a scuffle since he’d left the bureau, and it felt good to pound on someone’s face again—especially after losing Deputy Carlson and dealing with the idiots in the crazy town of Taos.
CHAPTER 24
Knowing he probably wouldn’t have a whole lot of time now that he’d beaten up on a few of the local boys, Russell decided to give his friend Dean another call. If nothing else, he might be able to find a little information on Sheriff Bowman for him.
“Hey man, I’m getting ready to head into a meeting. Can I call you after I come out?” Dean said, out of breath.
“Yeah, sure. Before you hang up, take down this
name and find out what you can on him for me.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“Sheriff Jessie Bowman. He seems to be in charge over here in Taos.”
“What? You’re there? Russ, that’s not a good idea, man. You should’ve told me you were going there. Are you alone?”
“I am. Look, I’m fine, but these people are very unfriendly. I’ve never seen anything like it, Dean. It’s like they’re trying to keep people out of here. I just got into a scuffle with two young men for sitting at their favorite table.”
“You always did like a good fight. How did you
fare?”
“That’s not what’s important here, man. What’s important is that these people are crazy. But just between you and me, I left both of them lying on the ground, nursing their injuries.”
“You country boys are all the same: more brawn than brain.”
“Uh, correct me if I’m wrong, but was I not the one who found the connection between Taos and all these murders? Sounds like a pretty big brain to me.”
“Luck. You always were lucky. By the way, I spoke with the Director and he made me lead over the case. I’m heading in to brief my team now. I’ll call you later.”
“Don’t forget, Jessie Bowman.”
“Got it. Now let me get off of here, so I can do some work.”
“That’ll be a first.”
Back at his room, Russell cracked the door and took a big whiff before entering. To his pleasant surprise, the smell had completely dissipated. I might get some rest tonight after all.
With his rolling suitcase making way too much noise, Russell decided it best to pick it up and carry it the remaining few feet to the dresser in the corner of the room.
Before he spread out on the bed, Russell pulled back the bedspread and inspected the sheets. A five inch diameter stain right in the center told him that he’d be sleeping on top of the covers, and with his clothes on. Normally, he slept in his tighty-whities, but he wasn’t about to allow his naked body to touch the bed without some sort of barrier.
In the bathroom, Russell used one of the washcloths to wipe down the sink, the shower, and the toilet. The now black rag was then discarded into the waste can. After brushing his teeth, he changed into some jogging pants and a t-shirt, and went back to bed.
With the TV flipped on to the only channel it would pick up, Russell did his best to relax. The entire time, he couldn’t take his mind off the possible diseases he was inviting over for a visit. At the very least, he imagined a whole family of cockroaches packing their belongings and hopping into his suitcase to lay claim to their new home. He knew Sam would kill him, if he brought home such exotic pets.
Russell smiled as he thought about how Americans were developing a deeper germ phobia each year. But he wasn’t any different. There was a time growing up in Wise when he drank water from the creek bed and ate food off the ground. No one washed their hands before dinner, because eating wasn’t this big formal sit down event for his family back then. If they happened upon food, they ate it wherever and whenever they could. He’d even eaten a few ants that tried to lay claim to a candy bar he’d absentmindedly forgotten on the porch.
Nowadays, people refused to drink water from the tap, carried around gallon sized jugs of hand sanitizer, and even wiped down door handles with Clorox wipes before touching them. Russell couldn’t believe how much things had changed. We’re all a bunch of germ phobic’s on our way to living inside a giant bubble.
Trying to watch a Spanish western when you speak English was a little harder than Russell anticipated, so he pulled out his laptop and started going back over the files he’d uploaded on Taos and the murders, prior to leaving Virginia. Forty minutes later, he noticed something that he’d missed during his initial search: every one of the killers had several victims. They could all be considered serial killers. This was an even bigger discovery than connecting them to the town, because whatever was causing them to kill obviously wasn’t about to stop. Realizing this caused Russell quite a bit of angst, because if any of the murderers were out of jail or the psycho ward, then they would most likely be called upon to kill again.
Setting the computer on the bed, Russell got up and paced around the small room. It was almost midnight, and since the hotel didn’t have Wi-Fi, he wasn’t able to look up the current locations of any of the killers. He thought about calling Dean again, since his old partner had failed to call him back. But he knew his friend well enough to conclude that he was otherwise engaged.
Something about the painting hanging above the small television caught Russell’s attention, making him do a double take. Walking over for closer inspection, he noticed that the left eyeball of the old woman in the photo was cut out and something shiny was now in its place. Suspicious, he tried to remove the photo from the wall to investigate. The picture came out about six inches, but refused to completely let go of the wall. Looking behind, Russell noticed a short wire coming out of a patched over section of drywall. Giving the thing a hard tug, he was soon left holding a small camera, covered in white drywall dust.
Realizing someone was watching him, Russell took the camera, placed it underneath his foot, and smashed it into the carpet. Thinking there might be more, he then swept the rest of the room. Ten minutes later, he lay back out on the bed, livid with the crazy people in this psychotic town.
It took almost an hour for Russell to calm down enough for sleep to find him. Thankfully, he slept through the night without incident. When he awoke the next morning, his mind immediately started planning out the day’s activities. First off, he had to call Dean again. He hoped his old friend was able to find something on Sheriff Bowman.
* * *
Kevin found a nice room on the outskirts of Espanola, the town nearest to Taos. Unfortunately, he had to drive a good 45 minutes to get there. He just prayed Amanda would be okay until he got back the following day.
The people in Espanola were night and day compared to Taos. They actually seemed happy to have visitors, while the inhabitants of his hometown rejoiced when they ran tourists off. If it wasn’t for Amanda’s insistence in proving that someone there killed her sister, Kevin knew he
would’ve headed right back to Michigan on the first available 747.
Just as Kevin sat down to dinner, he received a phone call. Noticing Father Gregory’s number, he opened his cell and softly said, “Good evening Father. Found anything on my crazy town yet?”
“Good evening to you too, Kevin. I haven’t heard anything yet, but I’ve got people looking into it for me. I should get something back in the next day or two. The reason I called was to tell you that I’m in town.”
“In which town? In Taos?”
“What other town would I be talking about? You sounded like you needed some help, and I needed a break from the cold up north, so I decided to pay you a visit. Where are you?”
“Things were getting a little too crazy, so I got a hotel in the next town over. Do I need to come by and pick you up?”
“I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you come back here and stay in my room? It’s along the backside of the hotel, so no one would even know you’re here.”
“I don’t know, Father. Are you sure?” “Absolutely. Now get yourself back here.” “Father Gregory?”
“Yes, Kevin.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way down here just for me.”
“I didn’t; I came for the sun and warm weather. You just happened to be here too. Now get moving, so we can catch up. I’m staying at the Sagebrush Inn downtown.”