“What’d you do to her, Jake?” Custer asked, “You didn’t kill her did you, Jake?” Slim and Custer looked steadily at their leader. They hoped that he hadn’t killed her. She was a nice old lady and they didn’t need another murder charge against them. The old man, well, he shot first so it was self-defense, they reasoned they would get off on that charge.
“Nah,” Jake said, “I just hit her, is all,” he admitted finally. “Smacked her across the face, is all, and she fell backwards on the floor. She’ll be alright I suspect. Don’t you worry none about old Hattie. She’s a tough old bird.”
They were all silent for a moment.
Then Jake’s mood abruptly switched to joyous exaltation. “She finally gave it up, my friends! She had this old court paper with names on it hidden up there. She gave up the ghost,” he crowed again. Whooping loudly, he chuckled, “Well…well, not a ghost yet, but soon, my boys, soon. These old ladies, Edna someone and the other one, they’ll be singing with the angels!” He laughed at his little joke. “And little Reggie Lee well she’ll be a ghost as soon as I get my hands on her! Just like her old Papa. They can burn in hell together,” he chuckled again. Custer and Slim stared at him warily. They’d never seen him this happy before, he was actually laughing. Jake pranced around the priest’s small bedroom, waving the yellowed paper around in the air, “We’ve got us some leads, my friends,” he whooped. “We’ve got us some leads! And we are going to track down those old ladies who helped her and we are going to make them tell us where she is. We are going to find her. I can feel it in my bones.” He laughed again. Then he started his familiar chant, “Come out Come out wherever you are! Come out, Come out wherever you are! Come out, come out wherever you are ….” his cracked singsong voice echoed eerily through the halls of the empty church.
CHAPTER 43
CALL IN THE DOGS
Chaos reigned at the Raines Family Farm. Police and FBI agents rushed into the house. They were not entirely sure who shot who or why. At first they thought Hattie shot Earl until they found her unconscious on her bedroom floor. They found the man they’d left on guard unconscious in the snow. Clint and Dale hearing gunshots came rushing back from the search. Finding their father dead on the kitchen floor they freaked out. “Pa, Pa” they screamed kneeling down beside their father and trying to rouse him. Then they started screaming for their mother, and raced up the stairs to find the paramedics leaning over her. Broken furniture and blood was everywhere in their parents’ bedroom. “Mama, Mama,” they called and knelt next to her trying to rouse her. The police moved them back so that the medics could work. Exchanging looks they rushed down the steps grabbed rifles from the gun rack and ran out of the house. “We’re gonna kill that bastard,” they screamed and took off toward the woods. “Go after them boys,” Chester directed three Hurricane cops, “catch them and bring them back.”
CSI’s recorded the crime scenes, photographing Alcott Earl from all angles, collecting evidence and mapping out bullet trajectories. Paramedics tended to the injured officer and Hattie Raines who remained barely conscious. She’d been hit across the face several times, she had ligature marks on her neck, a concussion and her left arm and collarbone had been broken. Internal injuries could not be determined at the scene. Her heart was beating weakly. It appeared she had been knocked backward then picked up and thrown across the room, hitting the opposite wall. Pictures knocked from the wall landed on her head. She was moaning and calling for her husband as she was lifted into the ambulance. Chester ordered police roadblocks be set up on all roads connecting to the Raines Farm with orders to stop and search every car, trunk and occupant. Heavily armed police were to perform these searches with no exceptions. Occupants would be asked to step out of the vehicle while a thorough search was conducted. Will Schmidt updated all law enforcement agencies about the changing situation at the Raines Family Farm. He informed the media that there had been another incident in which a man had been killed, a woman severely injured and the 3 killers were now on the loose in the vicinity.
Marie tore into town to pick up the Raines’ sisters. She wanted to make sure that they were personally informed of recent events before they heard the news on TV or from a concerned neighbor. The daughters deserved personal attention. They needed to be personally notified about their father’s death, their mother’s critical status and informed that their brothers were now chasing the killers through the woods. They would need time and emotional support to sort through all these traumas. Life as they had known it had just ended.
Back at the farm, chaos continued. Everyone was busy dealing with the most recent crimes or trying to find the killers. They believed that it had been Jake who went upstairs with his aunt searching for something. They initially assumed he was looking for the jewelry box with his ‘trinkets,’ but the disheveled state of the room indicated that he had been searching for something else. Drawers were upended. Shelves had been torn out of closets. Hattie mumbling about a paper led police to find a tiny scrap of paper taped to the bottom of an upturned drawer. The fragment looked old and official. This undersized bit of evidence could crack Reggie Lee’s mysterious disappearance wide open.
Within 15 minutes, all the members of the task force had arrived at the farm. An intensive manhunt of the surrounding neighborhoods was outlined. Search teams were deployed to adjacent residential areas looking for the killers and warning neighbors. When the police and FBI initially arrived at the farm wanting to interview the family and search for evidence in the cabin Clint described, they were prepared for a woodland search and a few family interviews. They were not prepared for another crime spree and an all-out manhunt. An officer had been wounded, Alcott Earl Raines was dead, Hattie Raines was fighting for her life en route to the emergency room and the Raines brothers were running wild through the woods. They had to be contained before they too were killed. Police put a call out for more resources, both man and canine. Within 90 minutes 2 helicopters landed near the Raines family farm. Another team of Bloodhounds, dual trained as tracker and cadaver dogs arrived from Virginia and a team of German Shepard dogs trained to track and subdue arrived from Pennsylvania. These dogs and their handlers were assigned to work with the Kentucky team. The dogs were ready to track the Parkland Killers no matter where they went. Howling and barking intensified as the excitement grew.
One Task Force member was appointed team lead for each of the search teams The Kentucky team took the German Shepard dog team and began working their way east starting at the Raines farm. The Virginia team would comb through the farm and the surrounding forest with the Bloodhound team. The West Virginia team that was assigned to water tracking started patrolling the waterways. The North Carolina team was assigned to work the area west of the farm. The Ohio team would cover downtown Hurricane and surrounding neighborhoods. Chester Rugger would man the command post.
Lou Fairmont took charge of inter-state communications and media relations. He contacted the FBI in Quantico to update them and ask for reinforcements. He contacted the press and prepared a statement to warn local residents that killers were on the loose and to remain indoors until further notice. He cautioned that the killers were not to be approached under any circumstances and should be considered armed and extremely dangerous. The West Virginia Board of Education was asked to close the schools in the county and residents were asked to keep their children home from school. Local businesses were asked to offer liberal leave for parents who needed to stay home and care for their children. Although the killers did not have a pattern of harming children, this was not the time to take chances. Residents were warned not to open their doors to anyone no matter what they said and to call 911 if they saw or heard anything suspicious. Radio and TV stations began broadcasting this message every 15 minutes starting with the 4AM news report.
“We’ve got something,” static came across the police ban radio in Chester’s hand. It was the Virginia team lead searching the Raines woods, “Dogs have a scent. Don’t know if it’s the
killers’ but we’re running hard,” the breathless speech crackled over the radio. Barking was heard, then howling, then yelling. Men were shouting. A second team was rushing to join the first team, but it was not possible to tell what was going on. Barking then aggressive growling could be heard then someone yelling, “Get him off me! Call off your dogs! I’m with you!”
It was Clint. One of the dogs picked up his scent trail as he was sneaking into a shed on a neighbor’s property. The dog had cornered him and when Clint raised his gun went for him. Officers brought him back to the farm where he received treatment for a circle of puncture wounds on his right forearm. They would keep him there until his brother was located. It was hoped they would then be calm enough to join their sisters at the hospital where their mother had been admitted. It would be easier if all the Raines children could be collected and kept in one place.
“Chief… chief,” staccato words over the headset.
“Go ahead, Virginia,” Chester responded.
“Got something here… our Bloodhound has picked something up and she’s pulling hard. Advise, over.”
“You have back-up with you?”
“Yes, Sir,” returned the handler.
“Split up. Make sure you’re not walking into an ambush,” came back the response. Chester knew the value of these dogs and had learned through the years to follow the dog’s lead. This Bloodhound, Wilma had a national reputation as a cadaver dog with over 60 finds to her credit. He waited to see what she came up with. He hated to think what it was... and wondered how things could possibly get any worse.
“All Teams, check in,” Chester said over the open mike. Team leads reported: “Nothing yet, following coordinates.”
“Quiet here. No one’s awake.”
“Well, don’t waste time waiting for people to wake up. Start knocking on doors, wake people up. They need to be on guard. Any sign of the other brother? ” Chester asked.
“No, Sir,” they all responded.
“Well, someone find him G-d Dammit. We don’t need another dead body out here unless it’s one of the killers. Someone get a dog on his scent and find the SOB. I want those boys out of here.” Chester was exhausted and things were going from bad to worse. He was functioning on adrenaline and caffeine. “North Carolina, check in,” Chester paced, police radio in hand. He watched paramedics treat Clint who stared fixedly as the Medical Examiner’s assistants carried his father’s body out to their van.
“North Carolina here,” a crackly voice interrupted, “We’re at the river’s edge about 2 miles from your location. We’ve got the brother. We’re bringing him back. He’s not resisting.”
“Good work,” Chester said, relieved, “over and out.”
“Oh, and Sir,” Squad leader said hastily, “We found a knapsack by the water. We’re bagging it.”
“Okay, North Carolina, check in again in 10. And make sure that brother gets his ass back here!” Fifteen minutes later two solemn Raines brothers stood shoulder to shoulder and watched as the glowing red tail-lights on the Medical Examiner’s van disappeared down the winding road.
Chester contacted each of his teams one after the other for the next 20 minutes when there was a sudden crackle on the radio. “We got something, Sir,” the dog handler from the Virginia team said quickly. Chester heard howling and commotion over the radio and his heart sank. ‘Oh G-d now what?’ he thought. Over the open mike he heard his officers talking back and forth.
“Shine it over here,” one of them said, “pull the dog back,” said the other one. “Shovel over here…”
“What is that thing?”
“I don’t know. It’s pretty big.”
“… in that snow pile.”
“Is that a head?” … more rustling and commotion.
“Looks pretty old...”
“Don’t let her dig over there.”
“Wilma, off!”
“Looks like we got a body, Sir,” the first patrolman said.
“We’ve got a body!”
‘Oh Shit!’ Chester thought, but he said, “Okay, Virginia, send me your coordinates and remain at your location.” Chester pressed the mute button and called over to Lou, “We’ve got another body.”
Lou rushed over, “What happened? Who’d they get?”
“It’s an old body, Lou. A cadaver dog found it.”
Lou stopped short. “An old body?” he repeated.
“This may be ground zero,” he said. “I’ll head over there and see what we’ve got. You keep the rest of the search operation running.”
He pulled three officers aside and said, “We’ve got another crime scene, you three come with me. Call the ME and tell him we need him back here.” The rest of you head back to the lab and start processing….”
The Parkland killers were close, very close. Chester could feel it in his bones. It was appalling that the killers had the balls, to walk into their command center, right into the Raines home, right under their noses. They were most certainly losing their grip on things. They were taking way too many risks. It was crazy. And yet, he had to admit, incredibly enough they got away. They actually got away with it. Right under their noses and they were gone again. He poured himself another cup of coffee and paced around with it. He couldn’t quite believe it. The killers stood on a hill and watched police activity; then escaped through the woods to the river, swam right past them, escaping again, then got out of the water and walked right into the farmhouse, killing Earl and maybe killing Hattie, too and escaping through the cellar. It was unreal. These guys could walk through walls. He’d never seen such nerve or such dumb luck. He felt overwhelmed. And he was furious with himself that he had not anticipated this move. None of them had predicted it. It was appalling. Skill and predictions aside it was Killers 5 and LEO’s 0! Chester did not like that score.
“All teams check in,” he said into his radio.
“West Virginia reporting, Sir,” a voice said. “Nothing new here. Met a few civilians, everyone agreed to return home and wait for the all clear, nothing else to report.”
“North Carolina, checking in, we’re patrolling the river, found a hunting knife, looks like it’s only been in the water for a little while, maybe a few hours. We might be able to get something off it.”
Another voice crackled across the radio, “Virginia checking in from this new crime scene. FBI just got here with the ME and CSI’s. We’re setting up lights and a perimeter.”
Chester waited as the team lead filled in the sketchy details. “…a woman’s body… ME says she’s been in the ground at least 8 years, maybe more… hard to assess with all the snow and the ground nearly frozen solid.”
“FBI’s in charge just keep me in the loop,” Chester disconnected to concentrate on the other teams.
“Kentucky, checking in,” another voice said, “We’ve just arrived at a church about 4 miles east of your location. I think it’s a Catholic Church. Seems locked up and quiet, but the dogs are acting weird. They seem to be picking up a lot of ground scent. But they are going in circles and whining. Never saw them act like this before. Something’s really confusing them, it’s like the scents are wound in a circle 8. We’re going to wait and see what they do with it. There’s definitely something going on here. We checked the outside of the building. No signs of a break-in. It doesn’t seem like anyone’s here, but there’s something fishy going on. There’s a three car garage on property, but it seems only two are in there now. Maybe the priest is away.”
“See what the dogs come up with, check back in 5 over,” Chester told them.
“Yes, Sir,” was the response.
At the church, Ricky and Lucy, two excellently trained, black and tan German Shepard dogs on loan from the Pennsylvania State Police, were moving between a small door at the back of the building and the garage. Noses to the ground they kept tracing and re-tracing their steps widening their circles by inches with each pass. Police were examining the outer door with flashlights. They opened the garage doors a
nd went inside with the dogs, one of them sniffed around the front bumper with special interest. Then they lifted their noses seeking scent in the air. Then the dogs went back to the church and focused on a window near the back door, but the police could see nothing wrong with the glass. The dogs, who had been litter mates, had been a working pair for years. Nearly identical except the male was larger, they now sat together large pointed ears inclined forward and scrutinized the building with their dark amber eyes. Above in the curtained turret, the three killers peered down at the dogs and held their breath.
“Shit,” Jake muttered, when he saw the dog near the bumper. “That’s where I changed shoes. That big one is a smart bastard. Maybe I should shoot him.”
“Don’t shoot him, Jake. Just wait and see what happens,” Slim warned. Now that they were on the run and Slim had shot Earl Raines, he seemed to have regained Jake’s trust. Now he was the ‘old Slim’ and he was back in Jake’s good graces. The power pendulum had swung again. Jake needed him more and that gave Slim both power and confidence.
From their perch they saw the officers on their radios, but could not make out their words. Another team now joined the search and moved into the adjacent woods. The German Shepherds, however, were focused on the church. They wanted to catch the people the police were chasing. They wanted to track them and find them. They seemed to grasp the big picture. The Shepherds sat resolutely on guard. They were certain that this was the right place. Their handlers knew to respect their dogs’ instincts and stayed still as they stared at the side of the church, ears tilted forward, eyes scanning. In the dim dawn, Ricky saw a shadow through the curtain hanging in the turret. He issued one bark and sat staring up at the window. His handler immediately squatted beside him and stared up at the same spot.
Relentless (Elisabeth Reinhardt Book 1) Page 25