“What? You say that like you think I had something to do with his death? You know I didn’t murder Craig!” Troy exclaimed, suddenly in a panic.
“I never said that Mister Turner. I’m sure the sheriff will explain it all in just a bit, but right now I’m afraid that you’ll have to come with us,” Billy replied.
Clearly frustrated, Troy stared at Larson for a moment. Then, as if coming to a decision, he stated, “Of course, Deputy. Just let me grab my coat. This is all a big mistake though. I had nothing to do with his death.”
+++
The search on the mountain for Phil Jackson had ended. Teams from the local county sheriff’s office, the state police and the state forest service had done everything they could to find the missing man. The early snow storm made the search in the mountains extremely difficult and dangerous for the emergency workers and no evidence had been found suggesting the hunter had been there. After reading the entirety of the report, the sheriff changed the missing person’s report to indicate that Phil Jackson was wanted for questioning in the death of Craig Morton.
Blaine had seen the three buddy’s together and witnessed first-hand their comradery. He didn’t feel that either one of them could have killed Morton in such a brutal attack. The strength required to crush a man’s skull with a tree limb had to be extreme, and in the weather conditions as they were left a lot more questions than answers. He leaned more toward the wrecked ATV being the culprit because this is the kind of attack that came from pure rage and hatred if, indeed, it was murder. Even he had to admit, one can never predict human behavior in extreme circumstances, but the D.A. had decided they had enough evidence to detain Troy Turner. At least for now, he thought.
Nick sat at his desk when the phone rang. He had been going over the evidence in the case and had expected the phone call, but not quite this quickly. District Attorney Ellen Wain was young and eager. She wasn’t originally from Hawthorn, but she had lived in the area for the past six years. She worked for the last five as an Assistant District Attorney and was very successful in prosecuting criminal cases. Elected to the DA’s seat last year, she ran on a platform of being tough on criminals. She had sent many to jail for everything from armed robbery to murder. She was hard-hitting and Sheriff Blaine knew she was demanding.
“Sheriff Blaine here.”
“Hey, Nick, how are you?” Not waiting for a response, she went on, “Ellen Wain here. I trust that you have a copy of the M.E.’s report on the Craig Morton case?”
“Yes ma’am, I’m looking at it right now.” He wondered how she had gotten ahold of a copy of the report so quickly.
“Sheriff, I need more to go on. You’ve got to find me something I can use here. If this Turner fellow killed his friend, I need clear proof that he did it. Why did he do it? What’s the motive? In your initial investigation report you mention that the injuries appear to be consistent to an ATV accident. There seems to be some contradictions here. What’s your take?”
“That’s what’s so puzzling to me, Ellen. I can’t find any motive. Not yet anyway. To be completely honest, I’ve been concentrating our resources on finding the missing man. I’ve issued a BOLO for him, but nothing yet.”
“What’s your gut tell you, Nick?”
“My gut tells me that there’s more to this story. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m going to find out. The doc released Turner this morning and I have him detained for questioning. So far, it’s not proven to be helping and to be honest, I was just about to cut him loose. I’m not sure we have enough to hold him on.” Nick said.
“Let’s not do that just yet, Nick. I think there’s enough evidence now with the Medical Examiners report to hold him, but before I take this further, I want more evidence,” she stated flatly. “Find me something solid one way or another.”
+++
Jolene stood over the kitchen sink humming a melody while washing dishes. She had cooked breakfast for the family and was cleaning up when she heard the man trying to get out of bed. She quickly dried her hands with a towel and hurried in to the small room when she heard him stumble and fall, too weak from fighting off pneumonia for several days. He was dehydrated and lucky to be alive. He was lying prone next to the bed trying to speak when she entered the room. She gently shushed him and helped him back into the bed.
“You lay right back down there, young man. You’re too weak from being half starved. Your body needs rest and lots of water right now,” she said soothingly.
She went into the kitchen and retrieved a cup of water then held it to his lips allowing him to sip it slowly and not gulp. The color had come back into his cheeks and he looked much better than when her husband first brought him home days earlier. He had been in and out of consciousness the entire time with fever and pneumonia. He would wake suddenly asking, “Who are you? Where am I?” Then he would mumble incoherently and fall back into a deep sleep. He had no wallet for identification so they didn’t know his name or where he was from, but Jolene was certain of one thing. Her husband, Clance Denizen, had saved the young man’s life by pulling him out of that frozen lake when he had fallen into it on the other side of the mountain.
+++
Sheriff Blaine was sitting at his desk when Larson brought Troy into his office.
“Mister Turner, have a seat and I’ll be with you in just a few minutes.” The sheriff gestured to a chair beside his desk. Troy sat down quietly with his hands in his coat pockets and head down. He looked exhausted and distraught. No doubt from the pain medications the doctor had him on as well as the stress of the situation. Nick talked to the deputy for a few minutes outside in the hallway before addressing him.
“Mister Turner…Troy… you’ve got to give me something more to help you with. First, we find your friend where he was killed on the mountain and your other hunting buddy can’t be found. We have a statewide BOLO out on him, but no word yet and to be honest, I’m not so sure we will.”
“Sheriff, you’ve got to believe me! I had nothing to do with killing Craig. He was my best friend. I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw! Surely when you and your men were out there, you saw ‘something’?”
“Nothing that would indicate that a nine-foot tall monster attacked you if that’s what you mean.”
“No, Sheriff, you’ve got to believe me.” Troy pleaded.
“Look, Mister Turner, I’d like to believe you, but you’ve got to put yourself in my shoes and I think you can see just how far-fetched your story sounds. Here’s what we know for certain. First, your friend, Morton, was found dead. The M.E. believes that he was killed after the ATV wreck. His head was caved in with a tree limb. Your medical report shows that your hands were badly bloodied. This all happened approximately at the same time give or take an hour here or there. Unless you can give me something else to go on, I’m afraid that I’m going to have to hold you. I personally don’t believe you did this, but the D.A. is looking to prosecute.”
“Sheriff, I swear to you, I didn’t do this. Everything I told you is true,” Troy stated.
“Mister Turner, it may be a good idea for you to get the legal advice of an attorney. All the evidence right now is pointing a finger straight at you.”
Chapter 21
Phil woke up in his new surroundings with a smile on his face, recalling those first days with the Denizens several weeks ago. Clance pulled Phil from the lake and saved his life by pure chance on that fateful day. The big mountain man would have taken him to the hospital immediately had there been a way to do so as the option to take him inside Troy’s cabin, which was only yards away, was out. The two beast’s that had attacked Phil and his friends on the mountain were there waiting for him. Clance had a much better chance of evading them by going back over the mountain pass to his own home. Phil found out why it wasn’t possible soon after he recovered enough to understand what was going on and where he was. The only road down the mountain pass was blocked by heavy snows and the family had been staying close to the house.
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He was in much better health now thanks to Clance’s quick thinking and Jolene’s nursing skills. Phil told them about the attack on the mountain by the Sasquatch and how he came to fall in to the lake. Clance was worried because the Sasquatch had become increasingly agitated and had been showing signs of aggression for the last few weeks. Phil’s story confirmed his feelings.
Clance insisted it was too dangerous to try the trek down the mountain especially with the winter storm slowing them down. Even as the weather loosened its stranglehold on the mountain, Clance wouldn’t allow anyone to venture outside alone, not even to the barn to take care of the livestock. Always in pairs with one carrying a rifle and keeping a close watch. The Denizens had no land-line, cell phone or electricity on the mountain.
Clance was a grizzled looking mountain of a man towering over Phil by a good four inches. His shoulders were as wide as the door frame of the large log cabin he called home. He was a powerful man and a man of few words. The others respected him and seemed to know what he wanted of them without being told. It was an odd family, but it seemed to work for them.
Clance’s wife, Jolene, was an average woman standing five and a half feet tall with a medium build. However, she was just as strong as any man he’d ever known. She was tough as nails, but also a sweet, doting motherly type when it came to her family, which was very much the opposite of her husband.
Once Phil was able, he helped out around the place as much as he could. He would cut, stack and haul in wood for the fireplace and the kitchen stove. He also helped tend to the livestock outside.
Jolene talked more than the rest of the family and he had lengthy conversations with her when the others weren’t around. Clance and Jolene Denizen had two sons, Gavin and Mathew, and a younger daughter named Irene. The oldest boy, Gavin, was twenty-nine and his brother was two years younger. Gavin, being the eldest of the siblings stuck close to Clance when the patriarch ventured out. Mathew usually stayed behind taking care of the place and safe-guarding the women.
Jolene was an educated woman born in Hawthorn, as were their three children. She attended school there and went to college not far away. There, she studied agriculture and graduated with a degree in agricultural sciences. She met her husband, Clancy Denizen, who preferred to be called Clance, soon after graduating. Together, the couple raised their three children on the mountain and Jolene home schooled them during the winter months when the weather was bad and the roads were impassable. There were a couple of times, Jolene told Phil, that one of the kids would leave for a spell, but always seemed to find their way back home. She said that she never wanted to influence their decisions based on her own desires. She and her husband wanted their children to do what made them happy and never stood in their way. While living on the mountain, there were certain expectations of each of them and they all pitched in.
Clance was from the same area and had spent most all of his life in the mountains. He and his wife bought the acreage in the mountains knowing that they wouldn’t have access to any of today’s modern conveniences this far up. No electricity, rural water or gas extended this far into the mountains, but they actually preferred to live off the grid. They had everything they needed and what they didn’t have, they could trade or work for. It wasn’t that they were backwards, as Jolene said often; they simply preferred not relying on things they couldn’t make for themselves. They had a well with the purest mountain stream water that was cold year round, wood for heat and cooking and oil lamps for light in the house. They grew a large garden and canned vegetables during the summer and fall and hunted wild game for meat.
The daughter, Irene, was a pretty girl with long, dark hair and big brown eyes. Like her mother, she mostly took care of the chores around the house, but she could keep up with her brothers when hunting or fishing. She had a soft smile and a quiet personality when in the company of other family members, but she talked non-stop when alone with Phil. She would ask questions about where he grew up, what he did for a living, the size of his family, what it was like being an Indian, and if he was a good hunter. She was very inquisitive and talked freely about the time that she tried living in town. Phil was always happy to talk about the traditional ways that he was raised. He would tell her stories of learning to fish with a long gig pole, running along the banks of the creeks and rivers where he grew up in Oklahoma and she listened intently to his every word.
She told him about a time she had spent a year living in town. She had a small apartment and worked at a grocery store. She had met a boy and had planned on getting married, but things just didn’t work out. She missed home and decided to move back. Her parents welcomed her as if she had never left.
During the early part of his stay at the cabin, Phil asked about the Sasquatch. The big man told him the story of how he first became to be aware of them.
“Several years ago, we had a pretty bad winter. Not that any winter in the mountains is ever good, but this one was a little worse than normal. The snow was deep and the game was scarce. We had plenty of meat put away in the smokehouse and stored in a high-hide to get us through. We had a good harvest that year and had plenty put away in the root cellar. Late one night I heard something out by the smokehouse. I grabbed my rifle and a flashlight and went to check on it. I figured it was a ‘possum or ‘coon trying to get in. The door to the shed was busted off of the hinges and when I shined my light I heard the most God awful wail! It made my skin crawl. Then that damned beast stepped out of the smokehouse carrying a half side of a hog in one hand. It had to duck way down to get out. When it stood up, it was taller than the shed. That shed is eight foot-tall on the front side!” The big man paused as if remembering the details of the incident before continuing, “I didn’t shoot at it. Not that I couldn’t have. It looked right at me. I could see that it was just as scared as I was. I pulled my rifle up and aimed, but I couldn’t pull the trigger. It looked,” the big man paused briefly, “too human.”
Phil sat patiently waiting for the elder to continue his story remembering the terror that he felt the night he and his friends were attacked.
Clance began again, “I heard stories all my life and never believed any of ‘em. Not ‘til then anyway! After that night, I would see it every now and then. Every so often it would come back in the middle of the night and steal some meat out of the shed or maybe even a chicken off the roost. Once, it took one of the goats, but it never seemed to try and do any of us harm, just mostly curious I think. I could always tell when it was nearby as the smell of those things are terrible. The stench of rotted meat and dried blood,” he said with a sour look on his face. “When you smell it, it doesn’t go away.”
“You’re right about that; I smelled it when they chased me. It was horrible,” Phil said.
“At least you always know when they’re around.” The big man attempted a half-hearted smile.
“When spring finally started to thaw things out that year, seems like half the mountain was washed away in floods. I had gone down to the lake to catch some fish when I heard something splashing around in the water not far from me. I looked up and saw a small bear cub in the water. That’s what I thought it was at first anyway, just a bear cub playing in a small pool of water next to the river. When the water recedes, the fish can get trapped in those pockets and it’s easy pickings for bears. I looked everywhere for its momma. A man doesn’t want to get between a momma bear and her cub. That’s when I saw it.”
Clance reflected a moment before continuing, “It was standing just at the edge of the tree line mostly hidden in the shadows. It was just standing there watching me. I looked over at that bear cub again and took a closer look. It stood up and when it did, I saw what it was. It looked like a small child completely covered in fur. It was trying to catch fish with its hands while momma kept a close eye on both it and me.”
Clance stopped for a moment to catch his breath while Phil eagerly awaited the rest of the story.
“I had caught a few fish and had ‘em in
my hand on a stringer, so I threw ‘em up on the bank where she could see what I had done, and then I slowly backed out of there. When I got to a fairly safe distance, I saw it move out of the tree line and go to her baby. It was definitely a momma and it was enormous. Stood at least seven feet tall from what I could guess. It grabbed the fish I had thrown up on the bank and then steered the youngster away. My guess is they were having a hard time of it over the winter as both of ‘em was fairly thin. I would see more of them over time, but never too close. Over time, I’ve counted at least ten in their clan. They’ve always kept their distance until recently. They’re a lot bolder now and don’t mind you seeing them. It’s like they want you to know they’re watching you. We’ve never had any trouble with them, but I’m not stupid either. I don’t allow my family to go anywhere alone and never without a rifle, especially the last few months. They used to keep their distance from us and we would do the same, but now I’ve noticed more than one has been keeping a close eye on us and sticking close to the house,”
Phil asked, “What do you think has them all stirred up now?”
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good!”
+++
The sunlight reflected off the windshield of the pickup truck as it bounced along the construction site road. The combination of bright sunshine and glaring white snow was blinding enough for the need of dark sunglasses the man wore.
The construction site foreman stood and waited for the truck emblazoned with a Blanchard Contractors logo on the door to come to a stop in front of the office building.
Zach Blanchard turned the ignition switch off and the diesel engine rattled to a submissive silence. He opened the door and greeted his foreman.
Siege at Hawthorn Lake: Murder on the Mountain Page 17