CHAPTER 11
Research
When Ian arrived back at his trailer, Scout was very glad to see him. But Scout didn’t bark, almost as if he knew that it was late, and he didn’t want to wake their fellow campers. Instead, Scout wagged his tail feverishly and began leaning against Ian, nearly demanding that Ian take a few minutes to pet him. Ian was glad to oblige.
After paying some much deserved attention to his four-legged friend, Ian got undressed down to his boxers. He set the alarm on his cell phone to go off at 8:00 a.m. the next morning, then placed his phone on top of the cabinet next to the sink. He reached up and switched off the overhead light and climbed into bed. After a few seconds, Ian gently patted his hand on the bed beside him, signaling Scout to hop on and join him. Scout instantly did just that. Within minutes, they both were fast asleep.
8:00 a.m. came way too soon for Ian. The alarm’s incessant buzzing reverberated in his head. Ian first tried ignoring it by covering his head with his pillow, but that offered little to muffle the noise. Finally, after a few very uncomfortable minutes had passed, Ian made the long reach over to the counter. He snatched his phone, checked the time, then switched the phone’s alarm off.
Ian slowly stood up and began stretching out his back and shoulders. He had even more than his usual morning aches and pains that he’d grown accustomed to. Ian thought, This damp, coastal climate isn’t doing my arthritis any favors. He pulled on a heavily-wrinkled, khaki-colored, cotton polo shirt and the jeans that he’d worn the day before … and the day before that … he then sat down on the edge of his bed and put on his at one time fresh socks and tennis shoes.
“Well, Scout, it’s a good thing I’m going clothes shopping today ‘cause if I don’t buy some new threads, and if we don’t make it to a Laundromat soon, I’m gonna have to use my clothes as camp-fire starter.” Ian laughed at his attempt at humor. Scout barked twice.
After Ian and Scout had both finished with their typical morning routines, they climbed into the Jeep to embark on the day’s adventures.
“Scout, what a beautiful morning. It can’t rain all the time.” Ian said as they drove out of the RV park’s driveway onto the main road. Remembering a large advertising billboard when he’d first driven into Astoria that proclaimed radio station 97.8 AM - KNUZ to be the number one talk and news radio station for Astoria and the surrounding area, he promptly switched his Jeep’s radio on and dialed it to AM 97.8.
The morning news broadcast was in progress, coming over his radio with excellent clarity. Ian proclaimed to Scout, “Boy, I tell ya, seems even when nothing else will come in, you can always get Christian or talk radio. I guess neither God nor the news will be denied.”
Ian was half-listening to the local weather forecast when news came on that immediately caught his attention.
A man fishing in the Columbia River near Warrington found a body floating near shore. Astoria and Seaside Police both responded to a 911 call from the fisherman, who placed the call by cell phone just moments after discovering the body.
The yet-to-be-identified body was reported to be that of a young woman in her early twenties. The body was severely mutilated. Due to the body matching the same general condition of others, now seven in total, all nearly absent of all vital organs and blood, the women appear to have fallen victim to the serial killer or killers … now dubbed the Vampire Slayer... or Slayers.
The bodies of the victims found over the last few weeks have been discovered in the water and on the banks of the Columbia as far up river as Clathlamet, Washington, and now as far down river as Warrenton, Oregon.
We will continue bringing you up to the hour reports on this headline story as it unfolds.
Ian switched off his radio, frowning and shaking his head. The weight and magnitude of what he was about to get directly involved in finally had become real to him. He couldn’t have been more impacted by what he’d just listened to if he’d been hit over the head with a ton of bricks.
After ten minutes of driving south on the peninsula, they arrived at the downtown Long Beach business core. They drove a couple of blocks further on Main Street, then proceeded to pull over into a parking spot directly adjacent to Zoey’s shop. Ian checked his cell phone. It was 8:52 a.m.
Just as Ian started to unbuckle his seat belt, he spied Zoey exiting her shop. She smiled and waved as she looked over at Ian, then crossed the street and walked directly up to the passenger-side of his Jeep. Ian had already climbed out and was waiting for Zoey curbside.
“Hi, uh, good morning,” Ian said somewhat sheepishly.
“Hi yourself.” Zoey cheerfully replied. Due to her apparent good mood, Ian’s confidence immediately elevated.
“Well, Zoey, are you ready for the day’s adventure?”
With a large grin, she replied without hesitation, “You bet’cha Ian. I’m always up for shopping … and spying.”
Ian and Zoey smiled at each other, and he opened the car door for her. She got in and immediately buckled herself up. Scout, who had been lying down in the back seat, suddenly leaned his head over Zoey’s left shoulder, which startled her. Scout soon put her to ease by panting and gently nudging her shoulder, clearly indicating that all he wanted was for her to affectionately acknowledge him, which she did at first with a reluctant pat on Scout’s head; soon, that led to Zoey gently stroking Scout’s head and husky chest.
Ian slowly walked around his Jeep from the curb to the driver’s side of his rig, opened the car door, and slid into the driver’s seat. He smiled as he saw Zoey was now actively petting Scout, who had nearly worked himself into the front of the cab, semi-laying between the two front seats and draping himself over the center console.
“I see that you’ve met Scout,” Ian said pridefully.
Zoey looked up from Scout and smiled at Ian. “Well, we haven’t been properly introduced.” Then she looked directly at Scout. “Hi, Scout, my name’s Zoey.”
Scout barked once almost as if he was proclaiming that he understood her introduction. A couple of seconds later, Scout barked two more times as if he were reciprocating Zoey’s courtesy with his own self-introduction.
Ian exclaimed as he pulled the Jeep away from the curb and began their trip to Astoria, “Oh, I didn’t tell you, Zoey. Scout here’s a genius.” Ian and Zoey both laughed, but Ian meant what he’d said.
Ian continued, “Zoey, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got to meet up with a guy, Officer Ned Parker, one of Astoria’s finest, up at … well, up at the Astoria Column of all places. The Column’s become sort of our rendezvous spot.”
Zoey paused before she replied, “Good spot. I mean to meet and talk with your connection. Nobody can sneak up on ya. You know, that you can’t see coming.”
Ian continued to be intrigued by Zoey’s rapid ability to connect dots though he still wasn’t quite ready to tell her everything.
“Well, it’s not as ominous as it sounds. Ned’s just helping me a bit with some information and the like.”
Zoey smiled, shrugging her shoulders and rolling her eyes just a little as she interjected, “Whatever. It’s cool by me.”
CHAPTER 12
In the Bag
Ian, Zoey, and Scout were just pulling into the Astoria Column’s parking lot when Ian spotted Officer Parker’s car. “There he is,” Ian said in a low voice, then pulled into a spot a few places down.
Ian was cognizant that Zoey had noticed the policeman obviously wasn’t in a police car, unmarked or otherwise, and he decided to address that.
“Yeah, Officer Parker … Ned … is driving his own car. This entire operation – well, if that’s what you’d call it – is supposed to be totally off the books. Sort of like a …”
Zoey interrupted, “Like some kind of black-op?”
Ian looked over at her, then after a couple of silent seconds looked deeply into her eyes. “Yeah, well, even though that phrase sort of makes this all sound over-the-top intriguing, I guess that sums it up as good as any. Are you ok
ay with all this?”
Zoey said with a blank face as she stared at Ned’s car, “Sure. It’s like I’m playing some character, like a spy in a suspense thriller. You know, like a book or movie.”
Ian thought about the irony of Zoey’s statement. If Clayton gets his way, that’s exactly what this is.
Zoey glanced over at Ian and smiled reassuringly. She then looked away, back towards the plainclothes police officer, who had just exited his car.
It had just begun to rain. Ned quickened his pace as he headed towards Ian’s Jeep.
Ian spoke, “Zoey … Ned … he’s a good guy. I think you’ll like him.”
Zoey replied, “Well, that remains to be seen. I’m usually not big on cops.”
They both noticed straight away that Ned was carrying a brown paper bag in his right hand. And the way he was carrying the bag so close to his body made it immediately noticeable that he was trying to keep it and its contents as dry as possible. Ian motioned for Ned to open the door and get into the back seat, which he did, sliding in next to Scout. Scout paid Ned little attention, almost to the point of ignoring him.
Ian turned as far around in his seat as he could to better face Ned and noticed immediately that Ned had a scowl on his face. Ian quickly spoke first. “Uh, hi, Ned. This is my friend Zoey. She’s sort of … well on this … she’s my partner. Feel free to speak your mind. Whatever you need to tell me, you can say in front of her.”
Ned looked Zoey up and down for a moment before he spoke. “Okay. If Ian vouches for you, you must be okay. And by the looks of Ian’s hair, you must have had something to do with that, am I right?” Zoey smiled as she nodded. Ned looked over Ian’s new jet-black, spiked hair and nodded in approval. “Ian, don’t get me wrong, it’s perfect. Your hair. Now all you need are some threads that match the look.”
Zoey spoke up. “That’s exactly what we’re going to take care of today!”
Ned somewhat ignored Zoey as he continued to look directly at Ian. “Ian, did you get my text? Well, since then, there’s been another body turn up …”
Ian interrupted, “You mean the one found by the fisherman in Warrenton?”
“No. This is another young woman whose body was found across the river in Washington about twenty miles upriver.”
Ian shook his head. “Jesus Christ.”
Ned continued, “Yeah, well, that body was also completely drained of blood, but there’s been a new twist. That is, if the body recovered is a victim of the same lunatic. This one was found absent its head and hands.”
Ian thought to himself about the decapitations back at Harmony Falls. Christ … not decapitations.
Ned shifted a little in his seat and cleared his throat before continuing once again. “Uh … um, yes. Well, if this new, yet-to-be-identified body is a victim of the same person or persons, they’re getting smarter. A body missing its head and hands … Well, that makes identification extremely difficult to say the least, as I’m sure you can imagine. No teeth, no prints. And so far, nobody’s come forward with another missing person’s report that might match up.”
Ned finally turned his attention to Zoey as he looked at her measuringly. He then turned his head back towards Ian. “All right, Ian. I don’t know your partner here, and maybe it’s best that way. I suppose since you trust her …” Ned reached into the heavily-crumpled, wet paper bag that he’d set on the seat next to him. He brought a small electronic device out of it. “Ian, this is a portable police scanner. All you’ve got to do is plug it into your cigarette lighter. It’s already set to our channel. This might come in handy if you decide to do some snooping around Salizzar’s nightclub. You know, it’ll let you know when officers are doing drive-bys and such. I don’t need it back.” Ned handed the scanner to Ian.
Ian replied, “Thanks. Good idea.” He couldn’t help but notice there was more in the brown bag.
Suddenly, a deep scowl overtook Ned’s expression. “The Feds are getting involved. FBI specialists. They’re gonna be flying in from the BAU, Behavior Analysis Unit, out of Quantico. They’re going to be setting up camp at the station in about a week, maybe less. I hear they’re gonna be sending us an agent in advance of their full team anytime now. That is, unless something turns on this thing. We’ve already got a couple agents from Portland poking their noses around, crawling up our asses. I figure your best play inside the club is day after tomorrow. Halloween night. That joint’s no doubt gonna be packed full of mainly out-of-town weirdos. As arrogant as either Salizzar or some crazed follower of his has seemingly been, despite all the increased heat that’s on him, that night, regardless of how cliché, will just be too tempting. The smart money says the perv won’t be able to resist making a big statement, if you get my drift. Anyway, we’re gonna be patrolling that place all night. Maybe even get one or more of our people inside. Regardless, even with Salizzar no doubt assuming we’ll have a very high profile police presence, my money says that narcissistic fuck … he’ll try and make a move anyway. Maybe his last one, his grand finale. You know, before he just up and disappears. A guy like him, with his kind of money, power, and connections … I don’t figure him to stick around much longer just to run a piece of shit nightclub.”
Ian didn’t say a word but totally agreed with Ned’s assumption that Salizzar wasn’t going to stick around much longer.
Ned paused and took a deep breath. He then slowly slid his hand back into the brown bag. Zoey began to fidget nervously in her seat as her eyes, just as Ian’s, had become fixated on Ned’s brown bag. Then very slowly, reluctantly, Ned began extracting from the bag, its content. Zoey was the first to catch a glimpse of what that was.
“Oh God!” Zoey nearly shouted, then in one deft motion turned around and sank down deep into her seat.
Now completely out of the bag, Ned grasped firmly in his right hand a large black handgun. An ominous-looking weapon whose handle and trigger were conspicuously wrapped in silver duct tape. Ian’s eyes bugged-out at the sight of the large pistol; he immediately presumed the handle and trigger were taped so it could easily be peeled off to effectively eliminate any traceable fingerprints. He thought, Wait a minute. Even if Salizzar’s guilty as sin, I’m nobody’s vigilante or hit man.
After seeing the gun and watching his master’s reaction, Scout was now standing in the seat next to Ned, growling in a very threatening manner. His lips were fully drawn back, baring his fiercely formidable canines, waiting for either a word from Ian or just one more move from Ned.
After what seemed an eternity but in fact was no more than seconds, Ian mustered enough presence of mind to nervously speak. “What … what the hell are … What’re you planning to do with that?”
Ned sat frozen, looking directly into Scout’s glaring eyes. The large dog was now shifting his weight from paw to paw and growling furiously. Scout began shaking from an adrenaline-charged, all-out commitment to defend Ian.
By the expression on Ned’s face and the sweat beading on his forehead, he obviously thought he was about to become brunch for a very large, very angry German Shepherd.
Ned began to speak fast. “Oh … oh my gosh! What this must look like. No … God no! This gun’s for you, Ian. I mean, I thought maybe you’d be better off, if push ever came to shove, having a gun with more stopping power than that pea-shooter of yours. The tape is just for your protection, Ian. Your anonymity regarding any connection with …”
Ian relaxed his posture, one that had had his back fixed to and pressing back hard against his steering wheel. “Scout, it’s okay. CUT!” Ian said in an elevated but calm voice.
‘Cut’ was the vocal command that Charlie Redtail had taught Ian. The signal for Scout to back down immediately and halt any further aggression. If Ian would have said the word ‘strike’, Officer Parker, in less time than it would take a pin to drop, would have been requiring a new right hand and a tourniquet.
Ned looked impressed, with Scout as well as with Ian. Zoey, though no longer readying herself to attempt an
escape, finally spoke in a noticeably rattled voice, “Gun? Ian, you never mentioned anything about you having … you packing a gun.”
Ned smiled at Scout as he slowly reached towards his jacket’s inner breast pocket. “Ian, tell your dog it’s okay. I’m just getting something out of my coat for ya.” Ned didn’t think a second misunderstanding of his intentions would bode well for him at all.
Ian looked at Scout. “It’s okay boy.”
Ned slowly retrieved a business-size sealed white envelope from his jacket, then equally as slowly handed it forward to Ian. Ian, understanding the contents of the envelope would likely be additional operational seed money, stuffed the envelope into his jacket’s inside pocket without examining it.
Ned spoke, “That’s just some dough to help with expenses.”
Ian replied, “Thanks!”
Ned opened the Jeep’s door, pausing before making his exit. “That’s the last of it. The last payment you can expect for your services. Services that have yet, I might add, amounted to nothing. So if you’re not just taking the chief and this town for a ride, and don’t misunderstand, I’m confident you’re not, then if you’re ever gonna get into that club and check things out, you better do it quick. Halloween night’s a natural. Anyway, get in there if you’re gonna before the Feds get further involved. Hey, one more thing. One that nobody outside of the department and the coroner’s office knows. The night before you came to town, a hooker was found dead in a parking lot not far from Salizzar’s club. By the looks of things, the crime scene reports indicate suspicion that she might have been a jumper ‘cept somebody got to her first. But here’s where it gets really weird. Her body up and vanished last night from the funeral parlor. It’s been kept there in the basement mortuary for a couple-few days waiting for an autopsy by a Portland forensic specialist. Yeah, her body, the only one not missing all its vital organs, was snatched. There’s been that and the recent Warrenton body and all the others. But get this. I had a lady come into the station in total hysterics. Says she and her quadruple extra-large, ex-professional football player husband … They were attacked down at the docks by … and get this … what she called a devil monster. She said her husband was abducted. So far, nothing’s checked out regarding any missing man beyond he might have just up and left her. But other than the part she said about him being taken by a devil monster, I believe her.”
Red Tide: The Flavel House Horror / Vampires of the Morgue (The Ian McDermott, Ph.D., Paranormal Investigator Series Book 2) Page 14