“It’s best you hear it from him in his own words.”
Shaw pushed his chair back on the casters, stood, then followed Frank through to the cells.
“Have you read him his rights?”
“Yeah, and I took pictures of the mountain lion on my cell.”
Shaw approached Rigby’s cell.
“What have you got to say for yourself before we ship you off to county?”
“I wasn’t out hunting, honestly.”
“Go on, I’m listening.”
“Look, I was just out trekking in the mountains near Breakers Lake, and camping overnight, that’s all.”
“Then why carry a hunting rifle with a night scope, and what’s a dead mountain lion doing in your cold storage?”
“Hell, Sheriff, good thing I had the rifle, or my bones would be rotting in the woods by now. The lion attacked me. Luckily, the sound of the shot must have scared the others away.”
“What others, and what time was this?”
“It was still dark, just before daybreak.
Shaw recalled Amy’s mention of a gunshot sometime before the preppers appeared.
“What’s this about the others?”
Rigby shook his head.
“It’s just like I told Frank. I was sleeping when a commotion woke me. I could hear the sound of something running in the undergrowth. I grabbed my rifle and trained it in the direction of the noise. Never seen anything like it before.”
Rigby put his hands over his face and slowly wiped them down to his chin.
“Seen what?” Shaw asked.
“Listen, I know this is going to be hard to believe, I keep thinking it must have been a dream. But I know what I saw through the scope. There was the shape of a dog running, chased by maybe five or six mountain lions. Then two cats jumped out of the trees in front of the dog and they had it surrounded. Damned dog was as big as any of the lions. Anyways, it kept dancing and turning, and they kept circling around until one of the lions made a lunge for the dog. Damn, if the dog didn’t rear up and swipe the cat and launched it against a tree. I mean, the dog had transformed. It was stood on two legs with a body of a man.”
He put his hand to his forehead and shook his head once more.
“What happened then?”
“Well, it came out of nowhere, all I saw was this damned cat leap at me and I pulled the trigger and then ran like hell.”
Shaw scoffed.
“And it scared you so much, you went back, collected the mountain lion, then hauled it back to your shop. Who else was with you?” Shaw turned to Frank. “How much does a mountain lion weigh?”
“I’d guess at one hundred and thirty pounds,” said Frank.
Rigby turned his back on them.
“Okay, I’ve heard enough. Save your story for county.”
Shaw ambled back to his desk and dropped his backside on his chair.
“What d’ya think?” Frank said.
“What do you think? Don’t tell me you buy that cockamamie story?”
“Well, I’m thinking about the tracks at the vets and the ones at the Ravine.”
Shaw clasped the fingers of both hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
“Pour some coffee , my throats dry as hell, and Mrs. Fishers brought some cake.”
He unclasped his hands, reached out, picked up the cake tin and removed the lid.
“What was wrong with her?”
“She’d eaten something that didn’t take kindly to her stomach.” He looked at the cake, burned around the edges. “On second thoughts, it could have been the cake.” Shaw tipped it into the wastebasket. Gyp arrived out of nowhere and buried his head in the basket.
“We’ll soon find out if it’s the cake,” Frank said, and laughed as he placed the coffee mugs on the desk. “It could be a bug going around. June had stomach ache this morning.”
“Well it wasn’t the stew, I feel fine,” said Shaw.
“Are you going to tell me what you think about his story and the tracks?”
“Well first consider this. We have a witness to Ed paying late night visits to Maria. So we can’t discount our theory that the barefoot tracks outside her door are his. I want you to go over to Ron Bartlett’s home and get a statement of the dates and times he’s seen Ed at Maria’s. I got the information from a tip-off, so tread carefully. Then I can haul our Mr. Mayor in for an interview. As for the tracks at the ravine, we don’t know they were all made at the same time. The cat tracks could be the lion he shot. I may be a city boy, but I know they’re creatures of habit. The multiple tracks could be simply a route it took regularly in his territory. Then the barefoot track could be Johno’s. He could have taken off his sneakers and then put them back on again, then slipped over the edge. The other thing is; I know you’re the expert, but mountain lions don’t hunt in packs. But to answer what I think of Rigby’s story, Breakers Lake is near the silver mine, so I’ll say it in two words, mine monster.”
Frank sat back in his chair, took of his hat and scratched his head.
“Crap, the mine monster! I’d never thought of that. Not heard mention of that since I was a child. It was the local version of the bogeyman.”
“Rigby probably saw the mountain lion he killed chasing a black bear. Night vision scopes can flare the images, and he’s just added that there were more of them to embellish his story. Listen, here’s what I want you to do before you go to interview Ron Bartlett. Phone the county sheriff’s office and have them come and pick up your prisoner. Then contact Wildlife and Fisheries. They’ll be the ones to help check out his story and do the investigation. They’ll also need to collect the mountain lion before his son moves the evidence. I reckon he’s the one who helped him move the lion.”
Frank picked up his coffee and walked over to his desk. The office door opened and in walked Jim.
“Hi, what’s on the menu today?” Jim asked.
“Just do the usual rounds, but tomorrow I want you and Frank to take turns in covering the highway from LA towards town with your speed guns. I want you to look out for Ted Carter and bring him in for questioning.”
Frank spat out a mouthful of coffee, then turned to Shaw.
“What’s Ted done?”
“Let’s just say he may not be who we think he is. Don’t let him make any excuses. Cuff him if you have to, and if I’m not here, lock him in a cell. If you have to call me on the radio, give him the codename Rooster.
“What charge?” Jim asked.
“Just think of any motoring offense. We can hold him for twenty-four hours.”
“But, Amy—”
Shaw interrupted Jim.
“I don’t want to talk about the subject. I’ll tell you why after I’ve questioned him. I’m going out for some air.” He rose from his chair and walked over to face Jim. “Better wait here. Frank needs to go out, and we’ll need someone here for when county call for Frank’s prisoner. Frank will explain.”
Shaw picked his hat off of the nightstand and walked out of his office, then on past his car. The mere mention of Amy’s name had his mind spinning. He realized that she could be home in time to witness her boyfriend locked up in a cell. What then of their close father-daughter relationship?
Chapter 25
BAXTER’S Steak House on the main street was quiet for lunchtime. Shaw usually had to share a table with tourists, but on this occasion, he found an empty table by the window.
“Usual, Sheriff?” Mrs. Baxter called out from behind the counter. She didn’t need to serve his table. A creature of habit, it was always the same homemade steak pie and mash, with a generous pouring of gravy over the top. Shaw studied the menu as he always did before replying.
“Sure. I’ll have the usual.”
He looked out onto the street. The few people that ambled on past the window didn’t look as though they had any urgency to their day; no sense of purpose. They were just taking a leisurely stroll. He thought it was as if time had slo
wed, and whatever was going on the world was of no consequence to them. He realized that’s how it had been for him over the past six years. Save for the events since Friday, those six years had seemed like double the time. He slipped his fingers into the top pocket of his shirt and pulled out two pieces of paper. One of them was folded into a small square. He unraveled it and studied the telephone number on the back of the burger bar receipt. A vision of the server sat on her stool and giving him the thumbs-up sign, flashed through his mind. He opened the second note with Cleo’s number at the Wildlife Sanctuary. He placed them both back in his pocket. Now wasn’t the time, but he knew that the time was fast approaching that he needed to make something of his life.
“One steak pie and mash with gravy,” said Mrs. Baxter, as she set down his plate and cutlery.
“Thanks, but where’s Joyce? You don’t usually bring the food to the table.”
“She phoned in ill this morning. Bad stomach she said.” Turning on her heel, she scurried back behind the counter.
Shaw thought Frank was right and there was a bug doing the rounds. Steam rose from his plate of food, bringing with it an aroma that had him tucking into the pie. He hardly stopped to breathe as he devoured his meal. Sitting back in his chair, he set down his cutlery, patted his stomach, then glanced at the television screen in the corner. The face smiling back at him and holding a microphone was the young woman who had interviewed him outside Hogan’s butchers. In the backdrop, he could see the entrance to the Medical Center in LA where they were treating Johno. He turned to face Mrs. Baxter.
“Can you turn up the sound?”
“....and security has been tightened, with police guarding the victim’s room. According to one police source, they have no motive for the attempt on the young man’s life, and they are extremely grateful that quick thinking and the actions of the staff who saved his life. The police are checking the security footage for any clues as to how they gained access to his room, for whoever did this to switch off his life support. Police and a spokesperson from the Medical Center have refused to name the young man until his parents have been informed of the situation. However, I can report that the victim is from Breakers Pass, north of LA.”
Shaw rose from his seat and walked over to the television as she continued with her report.
“When I put it to my source to ask if there could be any connection to the death of two paramedics that was reported earlier, and the theft of their ambulance, he said it was too early to comment, but they were looking at all possibilities. This is...”
Shaw dipped into his pocket, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and dropped it on his table as he dashed out of the steak house. He retrieved his cell phone, located Amy in his contacts and pressed call. He continued walking at a quick pace with the cell phone pressed to his ear. The call rang until it went to answer phone.
“Amy, call me urgently.”
He picked up his pace and ran back to the office. Shaw burst through his office door and over to his desk. Jim was sitting in Shaw’s seat.
“What the hell’s happened?”
Shaw rested both hands on the desk, his chest heaved. His meal lay heavy in his stomach, and his head pounded.
“Move,” he said. It was all he could muster. He edged around the desk to his chair and flopped onto the seat. Gyp fussed around his feet.
“Mary’s just called before you came through the door. She said to phone her urgently.”
Shaw showed Jim the palm of his hand as he tried to gain some composure. His cell phone rang. Trembling fingers located his cell phone in his pocket. Shaw looked at the screen and gained some composure, when he saw Amy’s name appear. He pressed accept and put the phone to his ear.
“Amy, where are you?”
“Who is that?” said a male voice.
Shaw held the phone away and looked at the screen. It was definitely Amy’s name he could see. He snatched the handset back to his face.
“This is Amy’s dad, who the hell are you?”
“Highway Patrol Officer Gilmore, sir. LAPD. A woman flagged me down after she found the phone in the grass near a bus stop at Hollows Lane. She heard it ringing, but it stopped when she picked it up...”
The officer carried on talking, but the words faded to a jumble as Shaw’s brain scrambled. His office phone rang and Jim answered.
“Yes he’s on his cell phone,” said Jim. “Mary’s on the line.”
“Officer, please, can you hold the line. Listen, I’m Sheriff Shaw. I used to be a detective in LA homicide. I think someone may have attempted to murder Amy’s friend at the UCLA Medical Center this lunchtime. There could be a connection to her losing her phone. She’s staying at her Aunt Mary’s, and her Aunt’s on the other line.”
He didn’t wait for an answer and took the handset from Jim.
“Mary, is Amy there?” He crossed his fingers, while resting both phones on his cheeks.
“No, that’s why I’m calling. She phoned me from the bus two hours ago to say she was on her way. I thought maybe she’d changed her mind and gone shopping, but she’s not answering her phone.”
“Jesus, no. Hold on Mary. The police have found her phone near the bus stop at the bottom of your street. I’m talking to the officer now.”
“Oh, God, no. I hope she just lost it and nothing’s happened.”
“Just wait there.”
“Officer, look, she’s not at her Aunt Mary’s but she phoned from the bus two hours ago to say she would be arriving soon. I think something could have happened to her.” His last words choked out.
“Look, Sheriff, as one officer to another with a daughter, don’t worry, I’ll check it out. Give me her Aunt’s address and I’ll go there now. I’ll fill out a missing persons form. Will she have a photograph?”
“Mary, do you have a recent photo, and do you know what she’s wearing?”
“Yes to both.”
“Listen, the police are going to come to your home now. Phone me after he’s gone. Don’t worry, they’ll find her.”
They said their goodbyes and he closed the cell phone call.
“Yes, she has a photograph, and she knows what Amy was wearing. Her full name is Amy Shaw. Her date of birth is July eleventh, nineteen ninety six. When you have the report from Mary, can you get the details to Logan the head of LA homicide as a matter of urgency? I’ll phone him now so he’ll be expecting your call.”
“Sure, will do.”
Shaw gave him Mary’s address and closed the call. Jim placed a coffee in front of him.
“Where’s Frank? I may need you two to hold the fort while I go to LA,” Shaw said.
“Gone to interview Ron Bartlett.”
“Oh, yeah.” Shaw stood, and paced around his desk. He took off his hat and threw it at the stand. “Damn, shit and damn.”
Jim picked up Shaw’s hat off the floor and placed it on a peg on the stand.
“Look, Brett, I can go with you if you like? I don’t know what to say, only I hope she’s in a coffee bar in some shopping mall.”
“There’s nothing you can say, but thanks for the offer. What a nightmare.”
Shaw picked up the handset, dialed LA homicide and dropped onto his chair seat.
“Can you put me through to Logan? I’m Sheriff Shaw from Breakers Pass.”
Gyp sat looking at him, his head tilted to one side.
“She’ll be okay, Gyp,” he said, and patted his head. Logan answered the call.
“Brett, or should I call you, Sheriff Shaw, now? How’s it hanging you old dog.”
Shaw was taken aback by his familiarity. It wasn’t the style of greeting Logan used to make.
“Nothing’s hanging. Everything’s all up in the air just now. My daughter Amy’s in LA and she’s gone missing.”
Shaw explained the situation and Amy’s connection to Johno.
“Well, I can tell you that no one was in the hospital room when they pulled the plug. I can also tell you that CCTV shows the intruders wearing
paramedic uniforms with surgical masks, and they arrived and left in the stolen ambulance. We have an all points out looking for it now. And I can also tell you that at the time it happened, from what you say, Amy was on the bus, so I doubt she got caught up in the situation, and it’s a simple coincidence that Amy’s gone AWOL. I’ll get someone to check the bus schedules, and have someone talk with the driver. As soon as officer Gilmore reports back here with Amy’s photo, I’ll have it circulated to all foot and highway patrol officers. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”
Shaw lowered his head and with his elbow on the desk, he rested his forehead on the palm of his hand.
“I really can’t handle this. I’ll set off down there now and do my own checking.”
There was no immediate response from Logan.
“You there?”
“Yes, I’m here. Don’t you think you’re overplaying it a little? It’s only been two hours.”
“What do you mean ‘overplaying it a little’? Do you mean like the girls that went missing back in two thousand and eight. The two hours the parents took to report them missing turned into six years. What if it were your daughter?”
“I understand, but sorry, Brett, you know better than to get involved. Maybe she set off to go to Mary’s, realized she’d lost her phone, then crossed the road to wait for the bus returning to see if she’d left it on there. The bus driver could have set off with her looking under her seat, and she decided to go back to the medical center. Look, leave us to do our work. I‘ll make sure that everyone knows it’s a fellow officer’s daughter we’re looking for.”
“But—”
“No buts. I don’t want you anywhere near the investigation. You know the protocol and the consequences if you break the rules. You’d be too close to the case if it turns out to be something untoward has happened and it’s not within your jurisdiction. What I’ll do is to keep you fully informed. I’ll give no quarter if you step over the line and interfere, understood.”
Shaw understood, but it didn’t help the knot tightening in his stomach.
“Just stay calm and wait until we’ve interviewed the bus driver. I’ll get them onto that now. I’ll also have a detective take a look around the immediate area at the bus stop.”
The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles Page 17