Bug Out! Part 8: RV Park Terror

by Robert Boren

  “You okay, sweetie?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m happy. Life goes on. The good parts of life. It’s making me feel like this is all worth it.”

  Jerry and Jasmine walked up.

  “So, Jasmine said you two are gonna check out that tow truck,” Jerry said. “Maybe we should invite the Sheriff and Charlie. They know a lot about handling evidence. They might just keep you out of trouble.”

  Dobie overhead that.

  “I’m trained in criminal investigation too,” he said. “Never used it, because I got sucked into the K-9 thing, but I’d love to be in on this.”

  “Okay, then we’ll meet in the barn in a few minutes,” Jane said. “Let’s go catch the Sheriff and Charlie. They’re in the kitchen.” Jane and Jasmine walked over there. Jerry sat down next to Frank.

  “How’s it coming with the encryption?”

  “Slow, but it’s going. There’s labels in the payload with numbers. Some of them I can figure out. Others are a little tough. There aren’t names, though.”

  “Shoot, so you’ll have to supplement with some hacking, won’t you?”

  “If we want names, that’s the only way I’ll get them,” Frank said. “There’s a label for rank. That one was interesting. Looks like it goes from 1 down to 15.”

  “So I’m guessing 1 is the highest rank,” Jerry said.

  “Probably. Simon Orr was a 3. The lead pajama boy was a 10. The militia guys were 13s, and the foreign pajama boys were 15s.”

  “Interesting. Any other codes you understand?”

  “Country,” Frank said. “All of the people that were from this country had number 1 in that slot. Most of the Islamists had number 8.”

  “Well, the rank number might be enough, if there’s only a few with number 1.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Frank said. “I’d like better info than that.”

  “Here come the girls with the Sheriff and Charlie,” Jerry said, looking over.

  “You two coming along on this?” Charlie asked.

  “Sure, I’ll go,” Jerry said.

  “I think I’d better keep working,” Frank said. “I’m sure I’ll hear all about it from Nancy Drew there.” He looked at Jane and grinned. She smiled and shook her head. They walked towards the door.

  Dobie joined them as they were walking up to the tow truck. It looked really ominous to Jane now…like a wheeled monster. Kurt was walking past the barn on the way to the clubhouse, and saw the group gathered around. He walked over.

  “What’re you guys doing?” he asked.

  “We thought we’d check around for evidence…just curious,” Jane said.

  “Take a look at the registration,” Kurt said. “I’d like to know what name is on there.”

  “Good idea,” the Sheriff said. He walked over to the passenger side door, opened it, and climbed up.

  “Check the glove box,” Jasmine said. The Sheriff nodded and opened it. The registration was in there. He held it up, and climbed out of the cab. The group walked over to the workbench, next to where the laptop was, and Jane turned on the light.

  “What’s the name on there?” Kurt asked.

  “Earl Wilson,” he said.

  Kurt got a shocked look on his face.

  “That’s not Chet’s son, is it?” Charlie asked.

  “No, it’s not,” Kurt said. Jane took a picture of the registration with her iPhone.

  Chapter 11 – A History of Violence

  “Earl Wilson,” Jasmine said. “That name rings a bell, but I can’t quite place it.”

  “I know, me too,” Jane said. “I’ll search on it, but let’s take a look in the cab now, so the Sheriff and Charlie can get back to what they were doing.”

  The group walked back over to the tow truck, and Jane stood in the open door, pulling on rubber gloves, and looking in. She turned on the iPhone flashlight and started looking on the floor in front of the seat. It was dirty…twigs and dried mud, but nothing else. She shined the light under the passenger seat. Something shined back at her. She pulled the phone to her face, started the camera app, and took a picture. Then she reached for the shiny object, barely able to get her hands in deep enough. She brought it out.

  “An earring,” she said, holding it up. The Sheriff put on rubber gloves, opened his palm, and she dropped it in. Then she went back to looking, this time in the crack between the seat and the door. Something else shiny was down there. She took a picture again, but couldn’t get her hand deep enough to grab it.

  “Maybe there’re some tweezers in with the other tools at the workbench,” Charlie said. He trotted over there as Jane showed the picture to the others huddled around her.

  “That’s a ring,” Jasmine said. “It looks kinda messed up.”

  Charlie was back with a big pair of tweezers. He used them to grab the ring. The Sheriff held out his hand again, and Charlie dropped it into his palm. Jane and Jasmine both looked at it closely, and Jane snapped another picture.

  “That’s a high school promise ring,” Jasmine said, in hushed tone. “With blood on it.”

  “Aren’t those usually worn on the ring finger?” Dobie asked. “Left hand?”

  “Most of the time,” Jasmine said.

  “That means that she took it off and dropped it there on purpose, more than likely,” Dobie said. “It should have been on her left side, not her right.”

  “Yeah, I’d agree,” the Sheriff said. “I need to bag these and label them.”

  “There’s some Ziploc bags over on the workbench,” Charlie said. “I’ll bring a few over.”

  “Thanks, Charlie,” the Sheriff said. Jane climbed further into the cab now, and started looking around between the back rest and the seat.

  “Is that dried blood?” Jasmine asked, pointing to the seat where it met the back, in the middle of the passenger side.

  “Could just be mud,” the Sheriff said. “We need a black light. I didn’t think to bring mine. It’s still at my office back in Utah.”

  “Maybe we could find one in town,” Jasmine said.

  “Well, whatever you do, don’t ask Howard where to find one,” Charlie said. “He might know about this. He might even be in on it.”

  “I can’t image either of them being into this,” Kurt said, “but Howard and Chet were really close.”

  “I wouldn’t say anything to him, but I doubt that he knows about this,” Dobie said.

  “Why?” asked Jasmine.

  “Because if he was in on it, no way would he have sent us here. He’d have known that we’d stumble on that trap door sooner or later.”

  Everybody was quiet for a moment, thinking.

  “Dobie’s right,” Kurt said. “I don’t think he knows. Chet hid this from me. Why should we doubt that he could hide it from Howard?”

  “I suggest we see if Walmart carries black light bulbs,” Dobie said. “That place is pretty anonymous.”

  “Good idea,” Charlie said. “We’ll need to be going into town pretty soon anyway. We need trailer tires, towing hardware, and other stuff like that. I say we lock this cab up for now.”

  “Agreed, and I’ll put this evidence somewhere safe,” The Sheriff said.

  “What if we need to tow something?” asked Kurt. “It’s got a good battery now.”

  “Jerry already sat in the driver’s seat and got his hands all over the steering wheel,” Jasmine said. “As long as nobody sits in the passenger side, what difference does it make?”

  “Yeah, she’s got a point, I guess,” Charlie said.

  “What would we need it for?” the Sheriff asked.

  “We might need it to break those trailers loose,” Charlie replied. “Too bad this is evidence. It would have made a good tow vehicle. The agreement we made with the city includes the contents of the park, so it is ours.”

  Malcolm was checking the air in the tires of his big Diesel Pusher. He heard a rumble coming towards him, and looked over just in time to see George and Heidi’s Tiffin motorhome roll u
p.

  “When are you going to upgrade?” Malcolm said, walking up to George and Heidi as they came around the front of their rig.

  “Pretty soon, hopefully,” George said, extending his hand to Malcolm. They shook. “This baby is still in pretty good shape, though. Had her over five years already. Hard to believe.”

  “We’ve got some nasty grades to climb. That gasser’s going to be noisy,” Malcolm said.

  “Hell, how old is your coach?” George asked.

  “Seven years,” Malcolm said, “but diesels last a lot longer.”

  “That’s what my dad always used to say,” Heidi said. “We have to go over the Rockies, don’t we? How bad is that going to be?”

  “Eastern Idaho and a good chunk of Wyoming’s going to be real fun for you guys,” Malcolm said, chuckling. “Don’t worry, it won’t be that bad. You’ll just have to stop talking some of the time.”

  “What are you bringing?” asked George.

  “Ah, the usual. Rifles, pistols, sawed off, and my bow. You?”

  “I thought the OICW might come in handy, in case I need to shoot around any corners.”

  “You still got rounds for that thing?”

  “Yeah. Enough,” George said. “I’m bringing the M107, too. We are going into a war zone, after all.”

  “Whoa, really? You think you’ll be needing a .50 cal sniper rifle? What if it gets confiscated?”

  “What’s the use of having it if I don’t use it, Malcolm?” George asked, chuckling.

  “Well, alright, if we run into a situation where we can set it up, I guess we’ll be glad we have it.”

  “I hope this isn’t going to be another bloodbath,” Heidi said. “I mean, really. How many times do you guys think you’re going to get away with that crap?”

  “Oh, if they were going to lock us up, it would have happened by now,” Malcolm said. “We are doing a service to society, you know. Certain people get it.”

  Heidi sighed. She walked back around the front of the rig.

  “Why does she stay with you?” Malcolm asked. “Haven’t been able to figure that out since the Sadie Evans thing. That got her real upset.”

  “She keeps thinking I’ll quit this for good,” George said, softly. “I wish I could. I do love her, you know. More and more as time goes on. I wish she wasn’t coming along on this one, though.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going into a war zone. I might get a little crazy. You know there’s a good chance I’ll run into some folks who I need to settle a score with.”

  “From your special forces days?” Malcolm asked.

  “Yeah, and the CIA days.”

  “Well, then I’d say that you and Uncle Sam might be on the same side, regardless of our methods. Actually, I’m intrigued now. I’d be willing to make a few detours from the Nighthawk trail, to cause a little mayhem for God and Country.”

  “I don’t know, Malcolm,” George said, a worried look on his face. “You know I’ve got a lot of baggage because of these guys. All of that PTSD stuff I had to work through. I might put us in danger. I don’t know how I’ll react if I run into certain folks.”

  Malcolm laughed. “Are you serious? You don’t think you had baggage on the Sadie Evans case? Geez, you were married to her for all those years.”

  George shrugged his shoulders and got a sheepish look on his face. “Remember that you almost died on that one. Twice.”

  “But I didn’t die,” Malcolm said. “If you start worrying about that happening, it’s more likely that it will. Careful gets you killed in our line of work.”

  “I know, I know,” George said. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

  George went back to his coach and pulled up out of the way. Malcolm backed out and drove behind them, parking long enough to get his Jeep connected. Then they were off.

  Back in Kansas, Terry and Trish were walking slowly back to their trailer, running the gauntlet of people wanting to congratulate them. Jake, Gabe and Dobie were sitting together under Dobie’s awning, on some chairs that he found hidden in his 5th Wheel’s storage compartment. They were having a beer. Jake looked happy but tired. He still had his minister’s robe on, making the beer in his hand look a little out of place.

  “Hey, guys, let’s go find something to do elsewhere, and give the newlyweds some privacy,” Jake said. The other two nodded, and they got up and started towards the clubhouse. They smiled at Terry and Trish as they walked past them.

  “They’re giving us some privacy,” Terry whispered.

  “I know,” Trish said, holding onto Terry’s arm. “It’s a little embarrassing.”

  “You’ll get over it,” Terry said, smiling at her. They climbed into the trailer and shut the door behind them.

  “We need to turn on the air conditioner,” Trish said. Terry nodded and turned it on while she shut the windows.

  “Well, do you feel married, Mrs. Brown?” Terry asked, coming behind her and putting his arms around her waist. She turned to him and smiled. Then they kissed, growing more and more passionate.

  “Wasn’t last night enough for a while?” she asked, smiling, looking into his eyes. “You want me again already?”

  “Oh, yeah, I do,” Terry said softly, brushing her hair away from her pretty face. “I’m the happiest man alive right now.”

  “I’m glad they went somewhere else,” she whispered. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bedroom.

  Jane was still in the barn, working on the laptop. Jasmine moved another stool over to the work bench, sat down, and watched as Jane searched. She put in Earl Wilson’s name. “Holy crap,” she said, as a full page of links came up.

  “This guy was major, wasn’t he?” Jasmine asked.

  “Remember Red Dagger?” Jane asked.

  “Yes, I do. He was a pretty frightening guy.”

  “Earl Wilson was his cousin. They worked together, until Red Dagger got killed.”

  “Wasn’t Red Dagger the one that got killed in that phony police shootout?” Jasmine asked.

  “Allegedly phony police shootout,” Jane said, snickering. She looked over at Jasmine with a grin on her face. “I know, that was a frigging ambush. Malcolm Davis. Did you ever see the interviews with that guy?”

  “Yeah, he was a trip,” Jasmine said.

  “Why do you say was?” Jane asked. “He’s still very much alive.”

  “Oh,” Jasmine said. “You’re right.”

  Jane’s eyes got wider as she clicked on the next link.

  “What?” asked Jasmine.

  Jane was still reading, and put her hand up to stop the question. It took her a minute to get through it.

  “You need to read this, but here’s the gist. Earl Wilson is dead. He was killed about five years ago, in the same gun battle that took out Jason Beckler.”

  “Jason Beckler. That’s why Earl Wilson’s name rang a bell. I had nightmares about him.”

  “Here’s the good part. Malcolm Davis took them out too, in a shootout that also took out Sadie Evans.”

  “Whoa,” Jasmine said. “Sadie Evans. Another psychopath. She killed all those kids, and several cops, remember? Did Malcolm do them all by himself?”

  “That’s what he says,” Jane said, “but the rumor on this forum has it that he was with some ex-Special Forces guy, who he just happens to have partnered with afterwards. They have a consulting business together, not far from where I live in Southern California.”

  “Don’t tell me, let me guess. George Franklin.”

  “Yeah, that’s what it says. How’d you know?”

  “My friends and I considered Malcolm to be kind of a rock star back in the day,” Jasmine said. “He didn’t do much to shut down that kind of image, either, as I remember. George was starting to get attention as his partner in crime…and then the stories just dried up.”

  “I know, I remember all of that. Jason Beckler was a big deal.”

  “Didn’t Malcolm get indicted for that?” Jasmine asked. “I don’t
remember how that turned out.”

  “Yeah, he got indicted, but he beat the rap,” Jane said. “He basically said he was acting as a bounty hunter, and there was still money out on Earl Wilson’s head. Same with Sadie Evans. You don’t kill a bunch of cops without getting a bounty put on you.”

  “Not Beckler? He was the worst of the bunch.”

  “No, most law enforcement folks thought Jason Beckler was dead after the last job he did with Sadie, about twelve years ago,” Jane said. “In fact, the folks on this forum think that Beckler and Wilson got themselves into that last mess because they were trying to settle the score with Sadie. She kinda set them up, and then disappeared. You don’t do something like that to Jason Beckler.”

  “This is ringing all kinds of bells,” Jasmine said. “There’s a good book out on it, but the author got discredited. Some people are thinking that Sadie Evans was actually married to George Franklin at one point. And don’t forget that Malcolm Davis killed Red Dagger, somebody very close to Earl Wilson. There’s connections all over this thing.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Jane said.

  “So what’s the tie between Chet and Earl Wilson?”

  “I don’t know,” Jane said. “This is going to take more digging, and since Chet never got caught, we can’t really go from that direction. I’ll bet there’s nothing out there on him.”

  “I wouldn’t start with Chet,” Jasmine said. “I’d start looking at the son.”

  “His name wasn’t on the registration for the truck,” Jane said. “Why should we be looking at him?”

  “He padlocked this place and walked away for a reason,” Jasmine said. “Wonder if there’s been similar activity in New Jersey over the past five years or so?”

  “Okay, you’ve got a point,” Jane said. “What was his name again?”

  “Scott Williams.”

  Jake, Dobie, and Gabe were in the clubhouse talking.

  “Well, Jake, this is a big day for you,” Gabe said.

  “Yes, it is,” Jake said. “It’s not every day that you give up your daughter.”

  “She’s getting a good man,” Dobie said.

  “I know,” Jake said. “I figured that out on the ride out to Gabe’s place.”