by Mark Tufo
“And there’s no way he could give you the information you’d need to gain access to the system and get us in?”
Bobby paused and stood silently for a moment. He stood waiting so long that Scott honestly wondered if he may have forgotten the question. “Perhaps.” He looked over his shoulder at the older man. “Let me make some calls.”
“Get back with me soon. I need to get a view inside, pronto.”
Bobby simply nodded and saw himself out.
Denise turned to her boss. “Can we trust this guy?”
Scott shook his head. “Probably not, but he takes his debts to others pretty seriously. And he owes me big.”
*****
Ben dropped Calvin and Quinn off at their RV with a copy of a local map. Quinn began packing go-bags while Calvin fired up the huge vehicle. Ben pulled out and flipped his lights on as he reached for his cell phone. Flipping through the numbers, he dialed Eckerson.
“Go for me,” Jeff teased.
“Jeff, it’s Ben. There’s a good chance that Jerrod Miller is going to be the next target.” Ben spoke quickly as he navigated his car through town.
“Wait, what?”
Ben repeated himself a little slower and Eckerson agreed. “Justin came to that conclusion already. He and Sanders figured that out and brought him in for questioning.”
“What happened?” Ben asked as he slowed his cruiser a bit.
Eckerson chuckled, “Miller got the dogshit beat out of him by some lowlife that he had hired to steal stuff from the ghost town grave yard…it was epic.”
“No, I mean, what did he say about being on the list?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Justin and Sanders had him in the interrogation room for quite a while, but I never found out exactly what they talked about.”
“Did they take him into protective custody? The ghost could strike at any moment.”
Jeff sighed, trying to think of a way to point out the obvious. “Ben, that prisoner was killed last night on the block. He couldn’t be in any more protective custody than that.”
Ben slowed the cruiser even more and turned off his lights. “Oh yeah. Good point. So what are you saying? That we’re powerless to stop this thing?”
“Not at all. Were you guys able to verify that it’s for sure him?”
“We’re about as sure as we can be.” Ben sounded more than hopeful. “Were you guys able to locate his grave?”
“Yeah…about that,” Jeff said slowly. “Somebody went in behind Wineguard and Culley and filled it back in.”
Ben gazed off into the distance, his mind trying to wrap around this new information. “Who would do something like that? Wait…did they fill in ALL the graves, or just the sheriff’s?”
“No, just the sheriff’s. Which just adds more to my suspicion that it’s him.”
“Yeah, me too. What about the artifacts? Were they legit?”
“Oh, they’re old, and they’re legit, but they aren’t legitimately his.”
Ben punched the steering wheel. “Fucking great. Now what?”
Eckerson smiled. “Now Justin and Sanders take Wineguard out there to Miller’s place and they play bad cop, bad cop. Wineguard points out what is what, and they snatch up the real deal.”
“Okay then.” Ben felt HOPE surge once more. “So we’re back on?”
“As far as I know. I got Jon out getting us some shovels. I already have the rock salt and the charcoal lighter fluid.”
“You sure gasoline wouldn’t be better?”
“We just want to start a fire, not blow ourselves up,” Eckerson deadpanned.
“Okay then. Well, listen, I just dropped the other two UCLA docs off at their RV and they’re heading toward the ghost town now. That thing is a freaking tank so they’ll have to go slow. I got their word that they won’t start anything without us.”
“As soon as Jon gets back, we’re heading that way too.”
“Then do I need to get Amber or not?”
Jeff thought for a moment and shook his head. “No. If what Calvin said is true, then the effects will still work whether or not she’s close.”
“Okay then. I’ll stop by my office and pick up a little heavier weaponry, grab a shovel and head that way myself.”
Jeff glanced at his watch. “Step on it. It will be dusk soon and if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not be there after dark.”
“Agreed.”
33
Justin didn’t bother with the doorbell as he beat on Miller’s door with his fist. He continued to beat on the door until Maria answered it again, the fear evident on her face. He didn’t wait for her to invite him in as he pushed his way into the house. “Where is he?” he barked.
“Who?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“Jerrod Miller, that’s who,” Justin snapped. He turned on her, his finger in her face. “Don’t play games with me, ma’am. I’m not in the mood.”
She shook with fear, the very presence of a police officer, much less one so angry, always put her on edge. She hadn’t even realized what she had done it until the deputy took off in the direction of Miller’s study. Her eyes followed the officer and it was only then that she noticed her outstretched arm, her finger shakily pointing the way. She felt a tear running down her cheek and didn’t understand why she was so fearful.
Justin marched down the same hallway he had been down earlier and threw open the door to Miller’s study. He instantly saw the man sitting behind his desk in his overstuffed leather chair, a phone to his ear. The smile on his face fading instantly.
“Let me call you back, Stan,” Jerrod muttered as he hung up. Standing, he asked, “Is there something I can help you with, Deputy?”
“You can help me by surrendering the REAL stolen goods,” Justin barked as he advanced on Jerrod Miller. At first, Jerrod stiffened, thrusting his jaw out defiantly until Zimmer grabbed him by his shirt and flung him up against the display cabinet.
Jerrod’s eyes grew wide with the sudden outburst, then just as suddenly narrowed. “I’ll have your badge for that!”
Justin got in Miller’s face, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I already told you that a bloodthirsty killer has a list with your name on it. Maybe I’ll just stand back and let him take care of you for me.”
Miller’s eyes widened again as he realized that Justin meant every word. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Watch me. Now give me the stolen goods or so help me, I’ll deliver you to him myself.”
“I-I can’t,” Jerrod lied. “I…um…I sold them already.” His eyes darted about the room nervously.
Justin let the man go and he slid away from him. “Why do I not believe you?”
“It’s the truth,” Jerrod lied again. “I have no idea where they might be now.” He licked his lips nervously. “They could be half way to Mexico.”
Justin reached for his duty belt and Jerrod cringed, afraid of the bullet that he was sure was coming. Justin brought the radio to his mouth, “Bring him in.”
Miller stared at him, his eyes narrowing with curiosity. “What was that about?”
“We’re about to find out how good a liar you are.” Justin stepped back. He glanced at the display cabinet and peered from one end to the other. “It would be a crying shame to have to confiscate the entire collection to find a small handful of pieces.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” Jerrod staggered toward the case. “There’s over twelve hundred pieces in that collection!”
“Like I said—”
“And like I said, I don’t have them anymore! I sold them a long time ago. Right after I got them, in fact!”
“We’ll just see about that.” Justin stepped aside when he heard the tinkling of chains and the footsteps of Sanders’ boots on the tile floor.
Miller’s eyes grew wide when he saw Casper in the orange jumpsuit. “What the hell is he doing here? He can’t be here! He’s not allowed in my house!”
“He’s here to identify the pieces he sold
to you, Mr. Miller,” Sheryn said with a sly smile.
“He can’t!” Miller exclaimed, his eyes shifting to and fro. “He was drunk. He was doing drugs, he was…he was…he was incoherent!”
“Right.” Justin led Casper to the display cabinet. “Show me which ones it was.”
Casper stared at each shelf starting at the beginning, doing his best to ignore the ranting and raving of Jerrod Miller. He scanned each level and would shift a step to his right and start over. Top to bottom, each shelf systematically. Just after the Wyatt Earp display, he paused, and a slow smile spread across his face. “Bingo was his name-o,” he said softly.
“Is that it?” Justin pointed.
“No!” Jerrod screamed, attempting to launch himself toward the skinny man in chains.
Sanders was waiting for just such a stupid action and caught him by the arm, swung him around and placed him in an arm bar, pressing his face to the rug on the floor. “Easy there, big boy,” she soothed as she applied more pressure to the elbow joint.
Justin gave her a wink then turned back to Casper. “Are those the artifacts, Wineguard?”
“Yes, sir, those are them.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yup. I’d know em anywhere.” Casper turned and gave him a smug smile. “That’s the gun belt, ‘cept it looks like he maybe oiled it. Them’s the bullets. Those are the pistols. And lookit there. That’s the badge.” He turned a big smile toward Sheryn. “He put it all in a big ol’ pile together.”
Justin patted his shoulder. “Good job, Wineguard.” He turned to where Jerrod Miller lay on the floor. “How do I open this, Mr. Miller?”
“Over my dead body,” the man said in a strained voice. Sheryn applied a little more pressure and he screamed. “You can break my arm, but you aren’t getting them!”
Justin shook his head. “I’ll see if the housekeeper knows.”
“She don’t know shit,” Jerrod bellowed.
Justin paused and gave Sheryn a knowing look. “Well, I guess we could get the demolition team in here to just blow the doors off of it…” he trailed off, acting as though he were thinking aloud.
“You could, but it’s liable to destroy everything inside,” Sheryn added.
“I don’t care about the rest of this old junk. I just need the stolen stuff. If he won’t cooperate, the law says I can get it however I have to,” he lied.
Jerrod Miller’s eyes bulged in their sockets. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Watch me.” Justin pulled out his cell phone and began dialing random numbers, holding his phone out where Miller could hear the tones. He waited a moment and then said, “This is Deputy Zimmer. I need the demo squad out at the Miller Ranch.” He paused a moment. “Yeah, tell them to bring lots and lots of high explosives. Yeah, I don’t care how big a mess they make.”
“Wait!” Miller cried out. “Wait! The key is in a hidden spot in my desk!”
“Oh, wait. We may not get to blow stuff up after all,” Zimmer played it out. “Where’s the key?”
“I’ll have to show you.”
“No dice, sugar dumpling,” Zimmer taunted. “Tell me.”
“You couldn’t find it if I drew you a map,” Miller replied through gritted teeth.
Zimmer sighed and looked at Sanders who just shrugged. Justin bent down and asked. “Can you get it with one hand?”
“Yes!” he grunted.
“Fine. Sheryn, let him up. But keep a good hold on him. I don’t trust the little troll.”
Sanders maneuvered Miller first to a sitting position, then finally to a standing position. They walked to his desk where he pressed a very well hidden button and a hidden compartment popped open. He slid the drawer open and produced the key. Handing it over, Justin hung up.
“Aren’t you going to call off your bomb guys?” Jerrod asked.
“What bomb guys?” Justin shrugged. “There’s no such thing.”
“Dumbass,” Sheryn muttered.
“I’m gonna kill yourrkk—” Jerrod tried to yell, but Sheryn applied just enough pressure to force him back down and press his face against the top of his own desk.
“Stay still and shut up,” she said.
Casper stood smiling at the two cops manhandling the rich man, and although he previously had wished the man no ill will, he had to admit, it was nice to watch the rich bastard get a little comeuppance.
Justin unlocked the cabinet and removed the stolen items one by one. Casper nodded to each one as Justin removed them. Justin would hold them up and Casper would either nod or shake his head and Justin would set them on the desk, inches from Jerrod Miller’s blubbering form.
“You can’t take them from me.” he cried.
“Should we arrest him again for obstruction?” Sheryn asked.
“We should, but we already have one prisoner to transport. Besides, it’s not like this egomaniac will go anywhere. He’s got it in his head that he’s going to beat all the charges.” He set the next handful down and turned to Miller, “Don’t you?”
“You can’t take them,” Miller bawled.
Sheryn shook her head. “You’d think they were his children.”
“Whodathunkit?” Justin turned back to Casper, “Anything else?”
“No, sir. That’s it.”
“Tag it and bag it.” Sheryn gave him a dirty look. “Sorry, just an expression,” he said as he pulled a paper bag from Casper’s jumpsuit and opened it.
“Will that hold it all?” She asked.
“It will hold the small stuff. I’ll just carry the belt and put the pistols in the holsters.” He set the smaller items in the paper sack. He shoved the pistols into the holsters and slipped the belt over his shoulder. “We’re good.”
Sheryn let Miller go and pushed him into his chair. “Have a nice day, Mr. Miller.”
“Please don’t take them. I’ll pay you,” he cried, his hands outstretched reaching for the artifacts.
“Should we add attempted bribery to his charges?” Sanders asked.
“Might as well.” Justin took Casper’s arm and began leading him out. “I’m sure if we thought about it hard enough, we could come up with a whole lot of charges to add. Attempted assault on poor Mr. Wineguard here. Tell me, Wineguard, would you like to press charges against Miller?” Justin teased.
“Um, sure?” Casper said as he shuffled toward the door.
“Did the mean man hurt you, sweetheart?” Sheryn asked, stroking his back.
“Not really.” Casper gave her a confused look.
“Are you sure? Because if he hurt you, you could sue him for pain and suffering. You look pretty traumatized.”
“Yeah, buddy. You could maybe get a lot of money.” Justin cast a smile over his shoulder toward Miller.
“Oh really?” Casper smiled and shrugged. “Well, now that you mention it, I don’t feel so good…”
*****
Scott hung up the phone and rubbed his temples hard. He sat back and exhaled as if he had been punched. “What’s wrong?” Denise asked.
“That was Jeff.” Scott rubbed at his eyes. “It’s all coming to a head.”
“Already?”
“Apparently so.” He stood and stretched, his back popping. “They’ve found what they think they need and now they’re all heading to the ghost town to do…whatever the hell it is. An exorcism or…”
“Cleansing.” Denise corrected. “Dr. Whynot called it a cleansing.”
“Whatever.” Scott sounded disgusted as he spat it out. He stepped outside his office and poured a cup of coffee, then stepped back in. “I still ain’t buying any of this shit, Burress.”
“They sound convinced, sir.”
He stared at her above the rim of his coffee mug as he sipped at it. “What about you?”
She averted her eyes and refused to say anything but she nodded once. Scott’s eyes widened, “You, too?”
“What can I say? I like a good ghost story.” His face soured and his upper lip quivered. Denise s
aw the vein in his neck begin to bulge and she knew she had to work some serious damage control. “I’m just messing with you.”
His eyes narrowed on her to the point that she wasn’t sure if he didn’t have them clamped shut. “You weren’t kidding,” he said quietly, a biting edge to his voice.
She lowered her head and sighed. “No. I wasn’t.” She stood up quickly and paced. “I’m sorry, boss, but I do believe it. I can’t tell you why, but I do. It just makes sense.”
Scott shook his head and turned away from her. “What is it with this younger generation?” he asked rhetorically. “Next thing you know we’ll be looking for werewolves when there’s a stray dog, blaming Bigfoot for every bear sighting, and if there’s a fox raiding a henhouse, well, it must be vampires!”
“Are you listening to yourself?”
“Am I…am I listening to myself? No, you’re right. You’re absolutely right. Ghosts are perfectly normal, but werewolves, Bigfoots and vampires are totally off the wall, right?” He gave her a crooked smile. “I think we could both use a stiff drink.”
Denise tried to give him a hard stare but the smile forcing its way through made it impossible. “Okay! You made your point.”
“Let me guess, you want to be at the graveside service, right?”
“Well…”
“Fine.” Scott paused and drummed his fingers against his desk. “Do me a solid first.”
“Sure.”
“Did Bridger leave, or are you taking him back?”
“He’s waiting on me. I drove him.”
“Ask him back in.”
“What for?” She stood and headed for his door.
“You’ll find out.” He reached into his bottom drawer.
Denise stepped out and returned a moment later with Bobby in tow. “You rang? Again?”
“I may have a way for you to get in to Miller’s house,” Scott said.
Bridger crossed his arms again. “Hit me with it.”
“My people are of a mindset that this killer is after Miller.”
“No big loss, if you ask me,” Bobby quipped.
“I won’t comment. But, since they are otherwise tied up trying to catch this guy, my deputy here can take you out to Miller’s place. Tell him I called you in to act as…personal security until this blows over. You said you know the guy who installed his system?”