by Glenn Trust
“Don’t do it, son.”
Lylee’s head snapped around to the right. Two truckers approached. One was about Henry’s size and build wearing a camouflage ball cap. The other was smaller, shorter than Lylee but with massive forearms.
“What?” Lylee’s tone was sharp and severe. His animal eyes narrowed and focused on the larger of the two.
It was the smaller of the two who replied.
“I said, don’t do it. You made your point. He ain’t gonna bother anyone now.”
Lylee looked down at Henry. The animal rage and lust for the prey boiled in his blood. He exhaled slowly, deliberately trying to calm the urges within. He had made a mistake, and he wasn’t used to making them. Normally thorough and careful, as evidenced by the string of tortured bodies scattered across a dozen states, he had been careless for the second time today. His first easy success with the girl last night had made him overconfident. The bloodlust was in him, and he was not paying attention. He had been completely unaware of the approach of the two truckers.
He slowly took his booted foot off Henry’s face, turning his gaze to the smaller of the truckers. His fiercely intent animal gaze was returned by a calm, unafraid look. This man was not intimidated. Predator that he was, Lylee was able to recognize the look of confident strength in the other man. For a moment, he fingered the knife in his pocket and then withdrew his hand. Deliberately, he forced a small, almost humble smile to his face.
“Sorry boys,” he said. “Just got carried away. I saw this pig pick her up inside and figured she might need some help. That’s all. Got angry and carried away.”
The trucker’s gaze was intent and unblinking, weighing Lylee’s words. He spoke to his companion.
“Leon, see if you can get her to come down.”
The large trucker, Leon, called up into the truck cab.
“It’s all right now. Come on down, young lady. No one’s gonna hurt you. Come on now.”
Lyn had watched all this transpire in trembling silence. It was too much. What was she thinking? Not thinking at all really, she realized. Head spinning, she moved across the cab to climb down. She placed one foot on the step and stood up. Everything went black.
Leon reached up with is burly arms and caught her as Lyn collapsed and tumbled off the step. He sat her down on the bottom step and let her head sink forward. With a look of concern, he looked at the other trucker.
“Bob, we might want to call an ambulance or something.”
“Let her catch her breath for a minute,” Bob replied calmly.
He turned his gaze back to Lylee. “We saw what you did. We were parked over there,” he said, jerking his head to two trucks parked fifty yards away. “You did good, but it’s enough now. Let’s get this girl inside and find out what’s going on.” Bob looked closely at Lylee for any reaction. Good or bad.
Lylee exerted all of his control to remain calm. The prey was so close. He could smell it, almost taste it. All of his senses twitched.
“Yeah. Sure. You’re right. I just got carried away,” he said calmly, almost softly.
Leon looked down at Henry, who still lay on the gravel cradling his arm, hoping to be forgotten in all this. “What about him?”
“Well as far as I can see, not much to do with him or for him,” Bob said. Then leaning over a bit he spoke clearly to make sure Henry heard. “You took an ass whuppin’ for sure, and as far as we can tell, you deserved it. You decide you want to press charges against this fella here, and we might have to say something about an attempted rape. You understand me?”
Henry looked up through his bloody face and nodded slowly.
“Say it,” Bob said sternly.
“I understand; I won’t press charges, just let me be now,” Henry said through bruised and swollen lips.
Bob went over to Leon, and together they helped Lyn to her feet. She was coming around. Looking at her, they could see no injuries. Lucky for her, Bob thought. Another fifteen minutes and the fat trucker would have had his way with her, and like all bullies, he wouldn’t have been too gentle. What are these girls thinking, he wondered. It was common to find them on the road, hanging out at truck stops and bus stations. Could life at home be that bad? He shook his head as he and Leon helped the girl across the parking lot, glad that his three daughters were safe at home in Tennessee. Lucky for this girl, that fella had seen what was going on and decided to do something about it.
He looked around at Lylee who was still standing by the truck, tense. It wasn’t tense like he was nervous or afraid, but tense like every muscle in his body was coiled and ready to spring.
“You coming?” Bob asked.
“Yea. Sure, I’m coming. I’ll just pull my car around to the truck stop.”
“All right then. See you inside” Bob said turning back and helping Leon guide Lyn.
Looking down at Henry, the predator snarled in a low voice that only Henry could hear, “You’re lucky. Not because of some attempted rape charges.” Lylee paused, making sure that Henry was paying attention through the haze of pain. He was. Their eyes met, Lylee’s fierce and piercing, Henry’s wide and frightened. “One word to anyone, and I will gut you like the fat pig you are.”
Henry’s eyes widened even more. He nodded his understanding.
Lylee spit a tight stream of saliva that splattered on the gravel an inch from Henry’s face, smiled, and turned towards his car. The engine turned over smoothly in the old Chevy. He put it in gear and gunned it, causing the tires to spit gravel over Henry’s sprawled form.
A few minutes later, Henry managed to pick himself up. His arm was probably broken from the fall, and his face and head stung from the abrasions and cuts that the impact with the gravel had caused. He sat down on the step to the truck cab holding his arm. It was the same step that Lyn had sat on a few minutes earlier.
What the fuck. He rocked in pain on the step. One minute, he was about to get a tight little piece of ass, and the next he’s beat all to hell.
It took several minutes of rocking back and forth in pain until he came up with the story for the emergency clinic he was going to have to visit. Slipped and fell off the truck steps. That was the best he could do. Nothing fancy, and he would take some ribbing from other truckers when they saw him, but that was better than another visit from that mean little bastard, the man with the fierce, dangerous eyes. Henry was a bully and like most bullies, he was also a coward. He picked his battles carefully and always made sure he would win. No, that little bastard was mean and scary. Henry had no doubt in his mind that he would keep the promise to come back if Henry ever said a word about it. He shuddered at that thought. Yeah, the little fuck was very scary.
Henry continued rocking and cradling his arm. Son of a bitch, it hurt!
45. Beth
George Mackey and Ronnie Kupman pulled up in front of the doublewide mobile home within a few seconds of each other. George stepped out of his pickup first and waited for the dust to settle while Ronnie shut his engine off and stepped out. The adrenalin was pumping. They were so close. They needed an ID, a physical description to go with the arm and ring…something. He owed it to the girl in the weeds. The girl who, at some point, had been in the car he had seen last night. He owed it to Mrs. Sims and her poor husband Harold who took a walk in the woods.
As Ronnie came even with him, George turned and they walked to the house, leaving the county vehicles parked in the dirt drive behind a ten-year-old Ford Taurus. Following a bare dirt path, they walked towards the front stoop of the doublewide. The yard wasn’t much. Some weeds and dried up grass, but they were cut short and not overgrown. Not much money here, George thought, but they took care of what they had.
Extending his hand, George rapped sharply on the aluminum screen door. He waited fifteen seconds, and when there was no response, he looked at Ronnie and shrugged, opened the screen door and thumped hard on the doublewide’s door.
They heard rustling and someone plodding heavily across the floor. The doublewi
de’s walls visibly rattled and vibrated as the person moved to the front door.
A young man, about twenty or so, swung the door open wide and stood squinting in the sun. He was dressed in boxer shorts and a tee shirt. His sandy hair was rumpled. Surprise crossed his face as he looked at the two men in uniform on the front stoop.
“Mornin’, deputies.” He recognized the uniforms for what they were. “What can I do for you?”
“Mornin’. This your place?” George spoke. Ronnie stood to one side and looked on quietly.
“My parents’. I live with them. Something wrong?”
“No, nothing wrong, we just need to speak to Beth Hilts. She live here?”
“Yea. She’s my sister.”
“Can we talk to her?”
“She’s sleeping right now. Worked last night. So did I.”
George stepped closer into the doorway. “We know. Sorry, but it’s pretty important. Would you get her for us?” It was a question, but George’s tone was a command.
The boy shrugged and stepped aside so the deputies could enter.
“Yea, I’ll go get her.”
He walked down a narrow hall off the living room and stopped at a door on the left. He knocked lightly on the door.
“Beth, you need to get up.”
There was a muffled response from inside the room. The boy shook his head and knocked again louder, and pushed the door open slightly.
“Beth, come on. There’s some deputies here to see you.”
They heard her groggy, surprised, “What?”
In the midst of rustling and creaking of the bed, they could make out the questions mumbled to her brother.
“Deputies? What do they want? I just got off work a little while ago.”
Her feet thumped audibly on the floor.
“Tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”
The boy turned and came back down the hall.
“She’ll be right here.” He stood there in his boxers and tee shirt looking back and forth from one deputy to the other. He was waking up more now and feeling a little more assertive and confident now that the grogginess was gone.
“Is Beth in some sort of trouble?”
George smiled and said, “No not at all, we just need to talk to her about someone she might have seen.” He saw the protective and slightly aggressive look in the young man’s eyes. That was his sister, and this was his house, or at least his parents’ house. Deputies or not, they couldn’t come in without some reason.
“You’re welcome to sit in and listen too if you want. I know she’s your sister,” George added in an understanding voice to show respect to the young man. No reason to antagonize him. He had a right to question why they were there, and they weren’t there to cause problems, just to get information. Very important information.
Chief Deputy Ronnie Kupman stood quietly beside George, hands hanging loosely by his side, a mild look on his face. George may be country and rough around the edges, but he knew how to deal with people. He could be the toughest guy in the county when you needed him to be, but only when it was required. When it was required though, George wasn’t afraid to kick an occasional ass. But ‘ass kicking’ was just a tool to him, to be used only when needed. He was not abusive or physical by nature, and preferred reason and respect as his tools, when possible.
Unfortunately, to a sheriff with no desire to offend any of his constituents, there was no ass worth kicking, only those worth kissing. And there lay one of the issues between George and his boss.
Ronnie watched with appreciation as George handled the situation, giving the young man no reason to take offense. His words had the desired effect. The hard edge in the young man’s face softened somewhat.
“Okay. I will sit in. Ya’ll can sit down there if you want.” He motioned them to the sofa.
“Thanks,” George said as they turned to sit. “Your parents can sit in too if they want.”
“Naw, they’re both at work. Won’t be home till five.”
“What’s your name, if you don’t mind us asking?”
“Brent. Brent Hilts.”
“Well, I’m George Mackey and this is Chief Deputy Ronnie Kupman.”
Ronnie nodded at Brent, and Brent nodded back.
“All right, well I’ll throw some clothes on and be right back,” Brent said, as if to make sure they didn’t start without him. “Beth should be out in a minute. Takes her a bit of time to get up and about when she’s been sleeping.” He smiled and shook his head as if to say, ‘Girls, what are you gonna do?’
The two deputies smiled and nodded back knowingly.
Brent Hilts padded down the narrow hall and went into the room across from Beth’s.
“Good boy,” George said, looking around at the walls.
“Yep, he is,” Ronnie replied, squinting in the dim light at a family picture on the wall across the room.
After ‘throwing some clothes on’ which consisted of a pair of jeans and flip-flops, Brent came back down the hall. Beth was nowhere to be seen.
Looking around and seeing that Beth had not made an appearance, Brent turned and shouted this time back down the hall.
“Beth! Come on out.”
A second later, the bedroom door opened and a pretty little blonde girl walked out in a yellow flannel robe, buttoned up to the top. Her feet scraped along in white terry cloth slippers. Her hand patted and stroked her hair, trying to smooth and straighten it out. Her face clearly showed confusion and anxiety at being called out of bed by the deputies.
As she came into the living room and focused on George and Ronnie, she was even more uncomfortable. The two deputies stood up.
“Is there…uh, something wrong?” Her voice was unsteady and nervous.
“They said they want to talk to you about someone you might’ve seen,” Brent spoke up.
George smiled and added, “That’s right, Beth. Nothing to worry about. We just want to ask you about someone you might have seen at work last night. Okay?”
Beth nodded. Still concerned, but they could see that her mind was working, probably going over everyone she had talked to last night.
“Should we sit back down so we can talk?” Ronnie said. They were the first words he had spoken, and he said them only to reinforce that there was no reason for concern, and so that she would not worry about the silent deputy looking at her and listening intently while she spoke with George.
Beth nodded and sat on a recliner positioned next to the sofa. The deputies sat back on the sofa and Brent, intently interested, sat on a rocker across the room leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
George smiled at Beth and began.
“Beth, do you remember last night, this morning really, about five a.m. maybe a little later, there was a man that came in? There was no one else in the store at the time. He left just before two truckers came in. Dropped a twenty on the counter and went out kind of quick.”
Beth’s eyes narrowed, looking back at George.
“Well, yes I do, but how do you…” She stopped and shook her head and went on. “Oh. The camera, right? The little TV thing?”
“Yes, that’s right, the CCTV. I saw you on it, and I saw him. Well, I didn’t really see him. Just his arm. That’s why we’re here. We need to know what he looked like.”
“Why? What did he do?” Beth’s voice was soft, her expression concerned.
She had reason to be concerned, but he didn’t want to panic her. He needed her to remember calmly everything she could about the man with the longhorn ring on his finger.
“Well, we think he might have been involved in a crime,” George said, and then added quickly before she could question him about that, “It would really help if you could tell us what color hair he had.”
“Well it was kind of light brown.”
“Good, light brown,” George said making a note on a little pad he pulled out of his shirt pocket. “Now,” he continued quickly, before she could ask him anything else about w
hat the man had done, “What about his eyes? Did you see what color they were?”
Beth thought for a moment, “No not really. We talked for a minute but I didn’t really notice.”
“Ok. That’s fine. So how about his height? About how tall do you think he was?”
George stood up quickly and went on, “As tall as me? Taller or shorter?”
“Well it’s hard to tell. I mean I was standing behind the counter and he was a few feet away. He never got very close, even when he threw the twenty down. I thought that was kinda funny?” She looked at George. “I mean that was funny wasn’t it? He kinda stayed away from me.”
“Yes,” George said, “that was funny. I think he didn’t want to be seen on the camera. You know, he kind of kept out of view. That’s why we need you to remember everything you can for us.”
“Okay”, she nodded. “Well, it’s hard to tell how tall he was. I mean I’m not very good at judging.”
“That’s okay, Beth. Why don’t you stand up and get about as far away from me as you were from him.” George smiled again at the girl.
Beth stood up and moved back from George a few feet. She looked at George and then moved back another couple of feet.
“Ok. Right there. I think that’s about how far away he was.”
“Good,” George said still smiling. “That’s good. Now what do you think? Tall as me? Taller or shorter?”
Beth’s brow furrowed for a second. “Shorter,” she said. “Not much, but shorter than you.”
“Good, Beth,” George said then turned to Brent watching intently from the rocker. “Brent, can you help me here for a second.”
Brent got up and walked over to George.
“Now, Beth,” George continued, “I’m going to ask Brent to kind of squat down a little next to me and then rise up slowly. When he gets to about the height you think the man was, you say so. Okay?”
Beth nodded to George. George nodded to Brent who bent his knees and squatted down about a foot lower than George. George nodded at him again and Brent began rising up slowly. When he got to about three inches of George’s full height Beth spoke.