The Hunters Series Box Set

by Glenn Trust

  “They say who done it?”

  “No.” Mike did not have to say that they had their suspicions about the assault on Ruby and Lyn. The meeting between Clay and Carl Stinson at Pete’s Place and subsequent brawl in the parking lot was a separate matter for now. It was time to change the subject. “Sorry for your loss, Mr. Stinson. Your brother’s body is at Clayton Funeral Parlor in Everett. They’ll handle the arrangements for interment or send it wherever you choose.” He turned and walked down the steps followed by his young deputy.

  “Who done it?”

  Mike walked to his pickup without turning.

  “Who done it, goddamnit!”

  “Mr. Stinson, I suggest you make the arrangements for your brother’s funeral. Let everything else be.”

  Mike started the engine and backed from the weed-choked yard. He turned to the young deputy, just out of the academy, who had come along to witness the death notification. “Learn anything, Riley?”

  The large, malodorous man had intimidated Riley. He knew it had been evident in his demeanor, crammed close together on the porch, and he was embarrassed about it. He searched for something to say that would reclaim some of his young-cop swagger. “Some people need to bathe more.”

  Mike laughed and slapped the steering wheel. “Damn right about that. Sums things up pretty well.

  37. What We’re Gonna Do

  Bain stood in the center of the room staring at the floor as Albert walked through the door. Everything that had been said on the porch had been transmitted through the paper-thin walls. “Carl’s dead. Shit.” He looked up at Albert, stunned. “Our brother Carl is dead.”

  “Yeah, he’s dead. I don’t suppose that deputy was lyin’.”

  “I just can’t believe it.” Bain slumped into a chair across from the sofa. He looked up, his eyes wet and shining. “Carl…he was always the tough one…like daddy.”

  Albert shook his head in disgust and spat on the floor. Danny tucked her feet in closer to the sofa and stared at her toes, not sure, where this was going, but certain she didn’t want any part of it.

  “You cryin’?”

  “He was our brother. We grew up together.” A tear trickled over Bain’s unwashed face and dirty stubble.

  Pulling his hand back, Albert took a step across the room. The blow to the side of the head nearly knocked Bain out of the chair. “You think he’d be cryin’ for you, if you was the one down at Clayton’s?”

  “Well, I…”

  “Hell no,” Albert interrupted. “Carl wouldn’t cry no tears for you. Neither would I.”

  Bain nodded and looked at the floor.

  “But I know what he would do.”

  Bain looked up at his older brother. Carl was the toughest, but Albert had always been the leader. “What?”

  “He’d make things right, that’s what.”

  “Right?”

  “Yeah…right. Find who done it and do for him the way he done for Carl.”

  “You mean…what are you saying, Albert?”

  “I’m sayin’ you and me are gonna find the fuck that killed our brother and we’re gonna do the same to him…make him wish he’d lost that knife fight.”

  “But…”

  “But nothing! Carl was a mean son of a bitch. I didn’t much like him, most of the time.” He laughed at Bain, shrinking away from him in the chair. “You…” He pointed a finger at the youngest brother. “You were afraid of him most of the time. Now he’s dead. So be it. I ain’t gonna pretend I’m gonna miss him.”

  “We need to get him buried at least.”

  “Bullshit. We’ll leave him down at Clayton’s. They’ll get tired of him stinkin’ things up sooner or later and throw him in the ground somewheres, or burn him up like they did Daddy.”

  Bain let that sink in for a moment. Carl dead and gone, left to be thrown in an unmarked hole somewhere and they wouldn’t even know where. The icy coldness of the thought surprised even a son of Clyde Stinson. He couldn’t help but shudder at the idea that if he were lying on a slab somewhere, his brothers would abandon him without even a proper goodbye.

  Albert waited for Bain’s eyes to meet his. “I ain’t gonna miss the son of a bitch, but that don’t change that he was a Stinson.” Jaw clenched tight, he nodded his decision as the family leader. “We’re gonna do for the one that killed Carl. We’re gonna send him to hell.” He pointed a finger in Bain’s face. “That’s what Daddy would’ve done. It’s what we’re gonna do.”

  38. Tie Up The Loose Ends

  “How’d it go?”

  Mike Darlington walked into Sandy Davies office, pushed the door shut and plopped into a chair across from the desk. “Went okay.” He shrugged. “Good as can be expected, I suppose.”

  “Think they’ll make trouble?” Sheriff Davies leaned back in his chair and waited for his chief deputy to report.

  “I’d be surprised if they don’t.” He shook his head. “You should see the way they live…like something out of ‘Deliverance’.” He looked up at the sheriff, a disbelieving look of disgust on his face. “There’s a dead dog.”

  “A what?”

  “A dead dog…shot through the head…lying in front of the porch. Had to step over it to get to the door…flies buzzing around…and god, the smell. You should have seen Riley’s face.” He chuckled. “Thought he was gonna lose his lunch right there in the truck.”

  “Jesus.”

  “Yeah, except I don’t think Jesus has much to do with those boys. They’re…different.” He shook his head getting back to the sheriff’s original question. “They won’t let this lie. We need to warn young Clay Purcell.”

  Davies nodded. “You still comfortable that it was self-defense? No charges?”

  “I don’t see how. Witnesses all say Stinson came after him. I talked to him. He was surprised that Stinson had been cut. It wasn’t a lie. He was genuinely surprised, like he couldn’t believe he had survived and not the other way around.”

  “District Attorney on board?”

  “I reviewed the case with him. Went over the witness statements. He’s in agreement. There’s no reason to file charges. Of course, he said it like a lawyer and left himself an out adding…unless further evidence is revealed in the investigation.”

  “You think there’ll be any further evidence?”

  “Far as I’m concerned the case is closed…unless you say different.”

  Sandy Davies was quiet for a few seconds. “This Clay Purcell.”

  “Yes?”

  “He followed the Stinson girl when she was abducted by the killer. Now wins a knife fight with the man suspected of beating her.” He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “Are we missing something there?”

  “I don’t think so. He has feelings for her…deep feelings even.” Darlington thought it over and then looked at the sheriff. “What would you do if it was your daughter or wife?” He nodded. “I know what I would do.”

  Sandy considered that for a moment then said, “Okay. Put it to bed then. Move on to other things.”

  “Right. The one thing I would like to clear up is the assault on the Stinson women.”

  “Would that change anything in the death of Carl Stinson?”

  “No. But it would tie up the loose ends. You know I like the loose ends tied up, Sheriff.”

  Davies smiled. “All right. Tie it up.” He nodded. “And warn Purcell to keep a lookout. You’re right about the Stinsons. They won’t go away peacefully.”

  39. What We Come For

  The noise, the smoke, the dim lighting…it was all familiar to her. Danielle ‘Danny’ McMurtry had been in a hundred dive bars like this one. Pete’s Place was not so exceptional. If anything, it was a little raunchier than most, the clientele rougher and shadier. Other than that, it was the sort of place where she had plied her trade and made her way in a dozen small towns and big cities.

  Sandwiched between Albert and Bain, she walked from the day into the dim interior. A strip of afternoon sunlight fro
m the open door lit their path to the bar until the heavy steel door slammed shut behind them, closing out the day. The only light remaining was the glow of red neon and a dim bulb behind the bar.

  Smoke billowed up from tables where men huddled, eyed the newcomers and the girl close between them. They assessed the strangers then returned to their talk, or drinks or drunken stares at the tabletops.

  Danny spied two big biker types in denim and leather by the bar. She gave them a quick assessment as potential clients and her means of escaping the Stinson brothers. She could turn a few tricks with them, gather some cash together and find a ride out of this dump.

  At the bar, Albert turned to Bain. “Watch her.” Then he walked around the bar to a corner where a man sat reading a newspaper.

  Leaning his elbows on the bar, Bain looked at Danny. “What you drinkin’?”

  “Nothing.”

  “C’mon. Have a drink. Don’t be so pissed off.”

  Silent, staring into the mirror behind the bar, she moved a little closer to one of the big bikers, letting her arm touch his on the counter top.

  “Bartender. Gimme a beer.” Bain called out to a plump woman in spandex behind the bar.

  The biker looked down at the soft feminine arm lying beside his on the smooth surface of the bar. Her skin touched his, rustling the black hairs along his forearm and causing a sudden tightening in his groin. He smiled.

  “Hey there.”

  Danny looked up at the biker, eyes innocent, with just the right hint of promise in them. “Hi.”

  “Buy you a beer?”

  “Sure.”

  “What you mean ‘sure’? You just told me you don’t want nothin’.” Bain stood up straight and eyed the biker.

  “She’s with me…us.” He nodded at Albert at the far end of the bar talking to the man with the newspaper.

  “I don’t give a fuck who she’s with. Lady wants a beer and I’m buyin’ her one.”

  Bain made a brief assessment of the man’s bulk…the size of his arms…most of all, the threat in his stare. He shrugged and turned away, hoping Albert wasn’t watching. “Fine. Buy her a beer. What the fuck do I care.”

  The biker nodded and Danny moved a little closer to him, making contact with him down the side of her body.

  Head lowered to the newspaper, Sammy Tuss raised his eyes and watched Albert and Bain come in with the girl between them. Shit. He’d been expecting the visit even while he hoped things would just settle down. Knifings, killings, law snooping around…it was a goddamned distraction.

  Tuss had a business to run. His business associates preferred not to have the sheriff conducting investigations in the middle of their center of operations.

  Albert came around the bar and took a stool beside Sammy. “You know who I am?”

  “I know,” Tuss said without looking up.

  “You know why I’m here?”

  “I suppose I do.” Sammy put the paper on the bar and turned to look at Albert. “I’d just as soon you leave.” He nodded at Bain and Danny. “Take your brother and the girl with you. Don’t want any trouble here or reason for the law to come around.”

  Albert smiled and lifted the front of his shirttail enough to reveal the butt of a large, western-style single-action revolver. “When you tell me what I want to know.”

  Amusement in his eyes, Sammy shook his head with a smile. “You think that’s the only gun in here?”

  “Probably not. But it’s the one that’ll put a hole in you.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Sammy moved the paper slightly so that the muzzle of a nine-millimeter pistol was just visible. “There’s a dozen more of these scattered around the room. My men.”

  “Looks like we got us a real standoff.” Albert grinned. “Still, I ain’t leavin’ till you tell me what I want to hear. You try to force me out there’s gonna be trouble…gunplay…deputies swarmin’ all over the place. It’ll be a real mess for you…tryin’ to clean the place up and all.”

  Sammy nodded. “What do you want to know?”

  “Who was it, killed my brother?”

  “You come here to ask me that?” Sammy laughed. “You might think you’re tough, but you aren’t very smart.”

  Albert’s eyes narrowed, jaw clenched.

  “It’s public knowledge, for god’s sake, man.” Sammy tapped the newspaper on the bar. “Even been in the papers.”

  “Just say who?”

  “Here.” Tuss lifted the front page and dropped it on the bar in front of Albert. “Read it yourself.”

  Published twice a week, the front page of the Everett Gazette carried the story above the fold. The knifing at Pete’s Place, while not unusual, was still big news in Pickham County. Roy Budroe had once run his crime empire from there. Sammy Tuss had promised the county commission he would clean things up if he could get the business licensed again.

  Albert read slowly, lips moving, conscious of Tuss’ amused gaze. …a knife was pulled by one of the parties. During the altercation, both received wounds. One of the combatants died from a severed artery in the neck. The other received wounds to his arm. The deceased is identified as Carl Stinson of Judges Creek. The survivor is Clay Purcell, who resides in Pickham County…

  When Albert looked up, Sammy’s smile evaporated. “Keep the paper and get out…now.” He stood up straight and looked across the bar to the two bikers, one of whom was speaking to the girl. It only took a second for his gaze to catch their attention. One nudged his partner, talking and smiling at the girl. Both stood up straight, waiting for orders, the girl forgotten.

  Sammy’s voice was quiet. “I don’t want you back in here. You come back and you won’t leave the way you come in.”

  Albert tensed. “You talk to me that way…”

  “I’ll speak to you any damned way I please.” Sammy relaxed again leaning against the bar, eyeing the man before him. “I know you, Stinson…men like you. You think you’re tough, but you’re not. You’re just mean. Your brother was mean. That’s why he’s dead. You come back in here; you’ll end up like him.” Tuss lifted the newspaper’s sports section and turned his back to Albert. “Get out.”

  Conscious of the eyes around the bar watching him, waiting for him to do something…anything…that might be taken as a threat to Sammy Tuss, Albert fought down his anger. For once he forced himself to react cooly. He managed to turn away and walk to Bain. The roomful of bikers eyed him eagerly, somewhat disappointed that they were not going to have a reason to drag him and his brother outside and beat their asses.

  “Let’s go.”

  “I ain’t finished my beer.”

  “Let’s go now.” Albert looked at Danny. “Bring her.”

  “I want to stay here.” She moved closer to the biker.

  Eyes moving from Sammy to the Stinsons, then back to Sammy, the biker who had risen to his full six feet five inches, waited. When Sammy shook his head, he looked at Danny, disappointed, but obedient to the man who paid him. There would be other girls. “You go with them.”

  Albert grabbed her roughly by the arm and dragged her to the door. Bain followed quickly, having no desire to be alone inside with the bikers.

  There was silence in the battered old truck until Pete’s Place had disappeared from sight in the rearview mirror. When it had, Bain worked up the courage to speak to his brother.

  “What was that all about?”

  Albert threw the newspaper’s front page across Danny and into Bain’s face. “We got what we come for.”

  40. Poison Trash

  “How’s your mother?”

  Seated beside Clay on the sofa in the small house where the attack had taken place, Lyn nodded and smiled. “Better. Doctor said it will be a while before her ribs heal. They are trying to take the pressure off her brain from all the swelling. That’s the biggest thing they say…then rehabilitation. She’ll have to learn to walk again,”

  “She was hurt pretty bad.” Mike Darlington’s voice was sincere and sym
pathetic.

  “Yes.”

  “Ready to tell me who did it? It would help us close the case.”

  Lyn looked down at her hand, wrapped in Clay’s grasp, and shook her head. “No.”

  Darlington nodded. He had not actually expected that she would change her mind. Even with Carl Stinson dead, his ghost hovered over her, as threatening now as it had been in life. The fact that the Stinson brothers were just down the road did not make things easier.

  Maybe with therapy and time, she would talk about it one day. For now, he dropped the subject. He looked at Clay.

  “We’ve about wrapped up the investigation. I spoke with the district attorney.” He waited for Clay’s eyes to meet his. “There won’t be any prosecution. Witness statements all confirm that Carl Stinson was the aggressor. He had the knife. You were defending yourself.” Mike smiled. “Case closed.”

  Clay didn’t smile, but the look of relief on his face was evident. “Thank you.”

  “There’s something I talked over with the sheriff, that we wanted to tell you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The Stinsons…the ones that are still alive…they didn’t take the news about their brother so well.”

  “No surprise there,” Clay said and tightened his grip on Lyn’s hand.

  “We think you should be…careful.”

  “Careful?”

  “Yes.” Darlington nodded. “Careful. Be aware of who is around you…what is going on around you. We don’t know that they will do anything. They didn’t make any threats in our presence, or any out of it, that we know of, but…” He shrugged unsure how else to give the warning. “Be careful.”

  “I told him,” Lyn said softly, her hand still clasping Clay’s.

  “She’s right. Those boys are not like the rest of us” Mike nodded. “You found that out I guess. They might not do anything, but you should at least be cautious and aware. Don’t give them an opportunity.”

  Clay gave a wry smile. “I’m always cautious.” He smiled at Lyn. “I’ll grow eyes in the back of my head. That oughta do it.” He looked back at Mike. “Trust me; I don’t want anything to do with the Stinsons. Far as I’m concerned, if I never see them again it’s fine with me.”