Evil Like Me

by Steve Bradshaw

  Bone fiddled with the motor as they bobbed in the boat at the edge of river. Then the current grabbed their bow and pulled them downstream. “We need to get control soon.”

  “It is the battery cable,” Keller said. “It is disconnected.”

  “What battery cable?” Baily barked.

  “It is under your seat,” Keller replied.

  Baily found the two cables and pushed them together. “See. Nothing.” Then the small motor hummed.

  Bone worked the tiller hugging the east bank, dodging low hanging tree limbs, and watching for moving shadows. The clouds opened and the half-moon transformed the river to white glass.

  “The events at the cabin, and finding this boat, demonstrate some of Hunter’s gifts, detective,” Bone said under his breath as he surveyed their surroundings.

  “Some are assets. Others are liabilities,” Keller sighed.

  Could you be for real? Baily wondered as he eyed the banks with gun in hand. He had enough trouble dealing with reality—the world had always been a complicated place for him. Now, he was being hunted by unknown people for unclear reasons and the person at four of his homicides now sat across from him in a stolen boat.

  Keller answered Baily’s unspoken question. “For a long time I did not understand what I was seeing in my head. I believed they were dreams. But there were too many. I could not turn them off, and I started to see them come true—the good and the bad. I did not control them.”

  Bone checked the safety for a third time and looked down the river. “I started working with Hunter ten years ago,” he said. “We didn’t make real progress until I got smarter.”

  “Got your PhD?” Baily said.

  “Yes. It gave me the tools for a deep dive into the world of parapsychology, a far less understood world, and one on the fringe of reality as we know it. We eventually learned how to turn things down and then on and off. It was important because the flow from the past, present, and future was crippling him.”

  “Danger is near,” Keller said. And you two will not escape. “I wish I could be of more help, but there are no more options.”

  Baily scanned the woods. “I don’t see anything.”

  “They have night vision,” Keller said.

  Ahead the river narrowed to fifty-feet. Both shorelines were lined with trees, overhanging branches touched the water creating leafy caves they could navigate. Staying in the shadows and dodging debris on the edge of the main current provided the most cover.

  “We’re moving at about five knots,” Bone whispered. “How far do we need to go?”

  Keller ignored Bone’s question and ordered Baily to call Wilcox on his cell. “Do it now. Tell him we are on Mountain Fork River seven miles north of Eagletown, Arkansas.”

  Baily pulled out his phone. “I haven’t had reception since Bone’s camper. What makes you think anything has changed? Son of a bitch, I’ve got bars.”

  “Call now,” Keller demanded. I’m sorry Bone. It is too late for you and the detective.

  The half-moon draped over the water as their black mass with three bumps floated in and out of hanging shadows. The occasional wind gusts whistled through the trees and the branches lifted and settled on the water like giant breathing animals. Then the swirling leaves started to rain down on the water. The river got silent. Only the hum of the boat motor mingled with the empty night sounds.

  “Where the hell are you Baily?” Wilcox yelled. “You’re phone’s been out of service since five yesterday, goddamn it!”

  “I’m still in Oklahoma. Calm down. I have Hunter Keller.”

  “Keller’s in Oklahoma? Tell me you have him tied up like a Christmas turkey, Baily.” Wilcox slid out of bed, grabbed his cigarettes and lighter, and went out onto the balcony in his underwear. “I think he could be more dangerous than we thought.”

  Baily saw movement in the woods. “Hold on a minute.”

  “Hold on for what?” Wilcox said.

  Baily leaned into Keller. “Tell me why people around you are dying?”

  Keller’s eyes stayed on the west bank as he spoke. “The elimination of remote viewers and their descendants,” he said.

  “But why?”

  “To control psychic-weaponry.” Keller held up one finger as he stared into the woods. “We are not alone anymore. Tell Detective Wilcox our location now!”

  “Keller wants me to tell you we are on the Mountain Fork River in east Oklahoma.”

  “Does he have a gun on you?” Wilcox asked. “Just cough, if yes.”

  The phone crackled. “We are on the river south of Broken Bow Lake, seven miles north of Eagletown. It doesn’t look good. Keller is …”

  The first bullet exploded through Baily’s head. He slumped over and dropped the phone to the floor of the boat. The next two missed Keller. The third hit Bone in the chest. He fell back onto the tiller. The boat cut sharp into the east bank. A spray of bullets riddled the boat as it disappeared in the overhanging foliage and clouds covered the moon. Everything went black.

  “Baily! Baily!” Wilcox yelled into his dead phone. The last thing he heard was Keller’s name and gunshots.

  Wilcox looked at the worthless piece of technology in his hand and threw it into the bedroom. After kicking the iron chair across the balcony, he glared at the Mississippi River as if he could see all the way to Oklahoma. He flicked his cigarette into the sky as his rage swallowed him whole. The growling monster inside wanted out of its cage. It was the same monster that stirred the day Wilcox found his partner hanging in the Memphis Public Library.

  I’m gonna find you Keller …

  Henryetta Daily Herald

  Serving Okmulgee County Since 1924

  October 27, 2014

  Five Found Dead on Dewar Avenue

  Henryetta PD was called to 2175 Dewar Avenue around 11:00 a.m. and found three people dead. Shortly after answering the call they made another gruesome discovery at the neighboring residence (2165 Dewar) where two more were found dead taking the total count to five. HPD launched a house-to-house search for more possible victims and witnesses to the bizarre deaths. The medical examiner places time of death between 3:00 and 4:00 a.m. October 27.

  Elda Middleton was found dead in her living room. Middleton, a longtime resident of Henryetta, is the owner of the boarding house at 2175 Dewar. Two of three known tenants were found dead in their rooms; names are being withheld until notification of next-of-kin. A third tenant, Hunter Keller, from Stringtown, Oklahoma, was not at the Dewar address. Sources close to the investigation say it appears Keller checked out. There were no personal effects found at the crime scene. At this time, he is a person of interest. Anyone knowing of Hunter Keller’s whereabouts is asked to contact HPD. Police warn the public not to approach the man. He may be armed and dangerous.

  Ruby Tantabaum, owner of the neighboring residence at 2165 Dewar address, and her sister Beatrice, were found dead on their front porch. The two were sitting in chairs. More details about cause of death are not available at this time. The Tantabaum family is known in Henryetta, kin to early settlers on Creek Nation land leading to the founding of the city in the early 1900s.

  Police are not commenting on the Dewar deaths at this time. Bodies have been taken to the Okmulgee County morgue for autopsy. The medical examiner, Dr. Benjamin Proust, was contacted. “We have begun our process, our look into cause and manner of death of these five people,” Proust said. “We are treating these as homicides and will carefully assess all physical evidence and provide more definitive information to the HPD and sheriff’s office in the days ahead.”

  County Sheriff T.E. Oglebee said, “We are very disturbed over this terrible tragedy. Elda, Ruby, and Beatrice were friends of mine. Their deaths, and Elda’s tenants, and the timing and proximity are upsetting. Although we will wait for Dr. Proust’s findings, the HPD and county sheriff’s office will treat this heinous crime as a mass murder of the worst kind to ever occur in our community. We are aggressively moving forward with our i
nvestigation. Trust me when I say we will find those responsible.”

  Unnamed sources report the five dead had necks broken. The bodies were positioned after death. Home invasion is unlikely, but has not been ruled out. Anyone with information is requested to immediately contact the Henryetta Police Department at 918-HPD-HELP.

  Fourteen

  “A half-truth is a whole lie.”

  Proverb

  Memphis, Tennessee

  *

  The naked bodies of Dr. Green, Dr. Blanchard, and Benjamin Nutley laid supine on gurneys in the walk-in refrigerator at the Shelby County morgue. The bloody Y-shaped incisions and sunken chests confirmed the autopsies had been completed—all organs removed, examined, and sections sent to the histology lab. The remaining viscera were returned to the empty thoracic cavities of the deceased to be buried or burned along with the surgically ravaged corpses.

  The three were not going anywhere soon. The city transported Nutley’s morbidly obese spouse to The MED. She fell into a catatonic state when she learned her husband would never come home again. The bodies of the two Bethesda doctors would be held by the county until true identities were known—records of Green and Blanchard at Bethesda Research and with the U.S. Government did not exist. Records for the missing Dr. Swenson did, but required clearance from the highest level in the DOJ—the U.S. Attorney General.

  Classified information that had been promised to Dr. Petty had never arrived. Prior to Swenson’s disappearance she bought into the slow grinding wheels of the unwieldy federal government. But even the few electronic files transferred the night they had met had been blocked.

  Each morning the Bethesda-three came to the morgue to examine the bodies of the four unsolved homicides. Each day they waited for the legal clearances to authorize exhumation of Pella. Dr. Swenson reassured Dr. Petty the government delays were just a part of the complex vetting process. Now, after the Super 8 kills and Swenson’s odd disappearance, Petty questioned the government’s true role in the Stargate Project, and she questioned their culpability in the bizarre deaths in Memphis.

  When her phone rang, she opened her eyes lost in the dark, cold room in the basement of the county morgue. It had been another exhausting day as the new chief medical examiner. And it was another night on the old leather sofa in her cold office.

  “Dr. Petty?” She recognized the voice immediately.

  “Dr. Tanner. Hello.” She tried to climb out of her stupor by turning on a light.

  “Sorry for the late hour, but I thought you would want this information right away.”

  “My letter? It’s about the DNA?”

  “Yes.”

  She swung her legs over the side and found herself in the mirror across the room. She pushed at her hair without thinking. “Please go on.”

  “We can confirm the letter was handled by the U.S. Attorney General. We secured his genetic material and got a perfect match. I must say I am proud of our team. They witnessed Mr. Baldwin discarding a Starbuck’s vanilla latte. We retrieved the cup in the DOJ cafeteria, a place he rarely frequents. I suppose we were in the proverbial right place and time.”

  “I recognize the risk of obtaining the DNA of a sitting attorney general. This will remain confidential. I needed to confirm the letter was from Alfred Baldwin.”

  Petty jumped when the refrigerator motor banged on and her pictures began to shake. But now the familiar hum and vibrations oddly relaxed her. The sounds had become part of her new home. Like a familiar creak in the floor or squeaky ceiling fan, the old motor in the wall would be missed if it were ever replaced. Alone at night with dead bodies should not bother educated medical professionals—especially a forensic pathologist. Although Petty knew ghosts and goblins were fantasy, it was that sliver of the unknown that would keep her forever vigilant.

  Petty could hear Tanner rustle through papers on the other end of the phone. “You gave me the name Dr. John Swenson,” he said. “One of the three doctors from Bethesda, I believe. He was the one you said handed you the envelope.”

  “Correct,” Petty said now eager to find out more about the missing doctor.

  “Was he wearing gloves, Victoria? Did he handle the envelope in a peculiar way, by the edges maybe?” Tanner shuffled more papers.

  “No gloves. He presented the envelope to me holding it in both hands—fingers beneath and thumbs on top. I thought it a bit dramatic at the time.”

  “I see. That is odd. We ‘did not’ recover Dr. Swenson’s DNA on the envelope.”

  “I assume an insufficient transfer of biologic material—skin cells, perspiration.”

  “Today we have advanced nano-technology. It requires infinitesimal DNA transfer. May I confirm this? Are you certain the envelope was sealed when he passed it to you?”

  “Yes. I would assume a private document from a high ranking government official would be signed and sealed by the author.”

  “We found your DNA and Mr. Baldwin’s DNA on the envelope and on the letter. We found Dr. Swenson’s DNA on the letter, but not on the envelope, Victoria.”

  “I can assume Dr. Swenson prepared or proofed the letter for the attorney general. That seems plausible.”

  “We found DNA from a fourth person on the letter.”

  “A fourth person handled the letter?”

  “Yes. We ran it through the national data base.”

  Petty got to her feet and walked to the mirror as more papers rustled on the other end of the phone. Staring at herself she tried to separate her lack of self-confidence from the growing fears. “Did you find a match?”

  “Yes we did. However, based on what you shared with me, it makes no sense. The letter from the attorney general was also handled by Dr. Benjamin Proust. He is the medical examiner for Okmulgee County, Oklahoma.”

  *

  The McCurtain Democrat

  October 28, 2014

  Two Dead, One to Regional Med Center

  Broken Bow, Oklahoma – Police were called to investigate a possible shooting on Mountain Fork River south of Broken Bow Lake Dam. Early this morning officers found a gunshot victim by a cabin north of Beavers Bend State Park. Three miles south, on the river, a boat was found with two gunshot victims. One was dead at the scene. The second was taken by Life Flight helicopter to the Regional Trauma Center in Memphis, Tennessee.

  BBPD was contacted by Memphis Police on a possible shooting involving one of their homicide detectives investigating a case tied to unsolved deaths in Memphis and Oklahoma. “I can’t remember the last time we had a homicide in McCurtain County,” said BBPD Chief Darryl Strider. “However, we are capable of handling all police matters in our area. I have been in communication with the Director of the Memphis PD. He has assured me that they would work hand in hand as together we solve this heinous crime.”

  Campers in the area reported shots were fired around 4:00 a.m. this morning in the Beavers Bend area. Around 4:45 a.m. another flurry of shots echoed throughout the Mountain Fork River valley. Some said it sounded like the Fourth of July.

  Names of the dead and injured are being withheld until notification of next of kin. The shootings on the Mountain Fork River are under investigation. Anyone with information is asked to contact the BBPD.

  Fifteen

  “True genius resides in the capacity for evaluation of uncertain, hazardous, and conflicting information.”

  Winston Churchill

  *

  Memphis, Tennessee

  *

  The Regional Medical Center is always busy. Wilcox met the Life Flight helicopter from Broken Bow when it touched down. All he could do was watch the team whisk the gurney into the trauma center—a cluster of surgical greens and white coats holding IV bags and pushing a pile of bloody sheets across the tarmac.

  He smoked a half pack outside the ER exit—Baily hung by a thread. Even if he survived, they said he may never know. The bullet had entered above his eye and exited the top of his head. The good news—not a hollow point. If it had been, Cam Ba
ily would have lost the back of his head and died on Mountain Fork River. The fact he was still alive had everyone scratching their heads.

  “Why was Detective Baily in Broken Bow?” Director Cottam asked Wilcox.

  He took a drag and stepped out his cigarette in no hurry to answer Cottam’s question. Wilcox respected the new director, but he didn’t like explaining himself to anyone. The question reeked of second guessing.

  “Answer my question please sir,” Cottam ordered.

  “I sent him.” He stared back with angry eyes.

  Cottam had been reluctant to put Wilcox back in the field so soon after losing his partner, and on the heels of the bloodbath in Dyersburg—five dead and Wilcox the only one there to explain. Even though the five dead ones were international wanted killers holding empty guns, Cottam knew Wilcox had help. But like the disciplined POW, Wilcox stayed with the minimum. His story, although weak in many places, held up. Cottam believed Wilcox got a lead, but he did not believe Wilcox just found the dead guys at the abandon farmhouse. He could not explain his head wound or the all the knife wounds on five dead men.

  “Relax detective. How does Broken Bow connect with the unsolved homicides?”

  The doors opened and two paramedics left the ER. Wilcox waited for them to pass. “I’m working the Deckle case. Baily had the Derby case. We compared notes and discovered my eyewitness was standing in the crowd at Derby’s crime scene. After a little digging we found him at the other two.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Hunter Keller.”

  “Why go to Oklahoma?”

  “Keller’s from Stringtown. His parents were killed in 2009. They died like our four.”

  “So Baily went on his own time to do some sniffing around?” Cottam asked.

  “Yes.”

  “What do you think he ran into out there?” Cottam took the pack of cigarettes and lighter from Wilcox’s trembling hand. Wilcox hated authority figures, his fist tightened behind his back. Cottam shook the pack and gave him another. He lit it. Wilcox relaxed.

  “Did Baily confirm Hunter Keller is our man?”

  “I can’t answer that question. Keller shot Baily, and I don’t need you getting in my way. There’s no place this skinny psychic can hide. I will find him …