by Hunt, Jack
“For now. Maybe I can find out who’s behind this before things get out of hand. At least here I know people who can help. Out there it’s hellish.”
Over the following hour, he shared what they’d seen in different counties from Humboldt to Los Angeles — and what was happening in FEMA camps, and the dangers. When he was done, Dakota and Selena gave them a tour of the new building and introduced them to new faces, as well as some of the elders. Most remembered Colby. He had been almost a permanent fixture on the reservation back in his teens. He missed those carefree days.
“It’s been good to see you again, old friend,” Dakota said.
Colby took his hand and pulled him in. “You need anything, let me know.”
“Likewise.”
Before they left, Dakota told him that he would speak to some of the other tribes to find out if anyone had approached them and to keep them abreast of the changes coming in the county. He didn’t expect him to ask if the Karu, Hupa, Tolowa, or Yurok were responsible. Such news was bound to rile up the youth, and those who already had a strained relationship with the Humboldt County Sheriff’s Office.
They were given an escort away from the community center back to the main road where they said their final farewells and embarked on the short journey back home. Alicia peppered him with questions, everything from what Dakota would do through to where they would go if they left Humboldt. As the hooves of the horse clopped against the road and they came around onto Alderpoint and approached the bridge, Colby saw something ahead. A mound. He squinted and nudged the horse on. Kane ran ahead and stopped and sniffed, then began barking. “What is that?” Alicia asked.
As he got closer, Colby could tell it was a body.
It had just been dumped in the middle of the bridge, in the center of the road.
The face was bloodied and beaten to the point of being almost unrecognizable.
He squinted again, and that’s when his stomach turned.
“Jessie!”
Chapter Fifteen
It seemed almost too perfect. Whether the informant had been lying or not was immaterial. He’d been looking for an angle, a way to dig the knife into both families, and it had presented itself on the back of their own feud.
At first, he didn’t understand fully why Derek Strickland hadn’t asked for something in return. He would have under the circumstances, but it was only as he learned more about the generational feud between the Stricklands and the Rikers, the recent string of deaths, then Nina’s pregnancy, did a clear picture emerge.
Jessie Riker was the baby daddy of Nina. She’d told them straight out. That’s why Derek was eager to turn over Jessie. He wasn’t a fool. He could see how things worked.
Now that he’d dealt with Jessie, he figured that would make it clear to the Rikers what the outcome would be if they tried to step over the line.
Next, he’d turn his attention to the Stricklands.
It would set an example for the rest of the town.
It would be a mild form of punishment, but a punishment nonetheless.
It was the message that people heard that was more important to him. It would strengthen the new rules, help people to know their place, and garner the respect of those who already believed the worst about the two families.
Worst case scenario, if that didn’t work, he might be able to at least extract more information on the whereabouts of the weapons and gold.
“You know it makes sense,” Benjamin said to Dan. He’d gone into his office that afternoon to discuss arresting Derek Strickland under the charge of making a false report.
Dan shook his head, looking exasperated. “At a time like this, nothing makes sense.”
“Nonetheless. It’s a crime.”
“Or perhaps he was misinformed.”
“Possibly, but that kind of behavior wasn’t allowed before this nor should it be allowed now. There is a penal code in place for these kinds of things, is there not?” He knew there was. Penal Code 148.5 PC, a California statute that made it illegal to make a false report of a crime.
“I think that’s taking things a little extreme here, captain. Besides, you said you found a weapon on Jessie. So Derek was correct.”
“Regarding one.”
“Whether it’s one or several, it doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it does.”
Dan leaned back. “Tell me, captain, how did you punish Jessie?”
“I let him off with a warning.”
He looked at him skeptically.
Benjamin knew that eventually Dan would learn the truth, but he would deny it. With so much animosity between the Rikers and the Stricklands, it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to believe that a Strickland had given Jessie an ass whopping.
It wouldn’t be true but Dan didn’t know that and couldn’t prove it.
Dan tapped a pen against the table and leaned forward in his seat. “Well, since you gave him a warning, I think it’s only fair that we give Derek the benefit of the doubt.”
Benjamin smiled. Dan was starting to piss him off. He was getting in the way of how he wanted to see this town run. He was acting like he was in charge and it was far from it. He had a good mind to draw his pistol and shoot him in the head but the timing was wrong. He needed him, at least for now. He was still the bridge between militia and the people. Providing supplies for the town of Eureka had certainly earned favor in the eyes of the community but it would take more than that, it would take a demonstration of real leadership — something that would undermine Dan, a way to prove that he was unfit to hold his position. Something that no one could disagree with.
“If I’m not mistaken, sheriff, I would think you are trying to protect the Stricklands. Now, why might that be?”
Dan swallowed hard. “As I told you before. This is not Iraq. We might be more than a month into this event but we are not breaking the law.”
“And yet you are allowing someone to do exactly that.”
“Come on, captain, you are reaching. We have discretion in these matters and as you said, Jessie was given a warning, his gun was confiscated. That partially verified what Derek said. I think that is punishment enough.”
“Is it?” He sniffed hard. “For Jessie, maybe, but not for Derek. Let me remind you of a few things. Starting with 148.5 PC.”
Dan stabbed a bony finger at him. “No, let me stop you right there. Don’t quote the law to me. I am the law. And that statute is about making a false report to a peace officer. Let me remind you, captain, you are not a peace officer. You are a civilian. Militia. But still a civilian.”
“The report he gave was false, at the least, he is guilty of a misdemeanor. You can’t deny that.”
“You are overstepping the line.”
Benjamin laughed, standing up and crossing the room to pour more coffee into his cup. He wanted to dump it all over that prick’s face and watch it burn his eyes out, but he had to hold fast his anger. This was a man who could read between the lines. A man that was used to being at the helm and certainly not one for being told what to do even if it was law. With his back turned, and pouring coffee, he continued. “If you say your ex was a prostitute, if you say someone assaulted someone, or you say that your neighbor trespassed when they didn’t. These are all forms of false reports. Are they not?”
“They are, however all of these would need to be proven in court, any good defense lawyer would attack a charge like the one you wish to bring against someone who helped you.”
He wasn’t making any headway.
Before he could finish, Benjamin continued. “You put me in charge of bringing in supplies and protecting this community. Now we can split hairs all day long but at the end of the day, my men out there are preserving the peace, protecting life and property, and ensuring the prosecution of those who try to disrupt peace, law, and order.” He turned. “You can cherry coat and label all day long but we are doing your job. So what, now you wish to decide what we can and can’t do? Is that what you’re sa
ying? Because I’m pretty sure that I’m not going outside the law on this.”
“Why arrest him?”
“I just told you.”
“I think you are pressing for something more, Captain. My question is, what are you after?”
He was turning the tables. Benjamin knew he couldn’t wriggle his way out of what he’d just asked, so he would do the same. “I’ll answer that once you answer this. Who do you think is a problem in this county, sheriff? Who do you think is liable to shoot first and ask questions later? The general public or the Rikers and the Stricklands?”
Dan waved a finger in his face. “Ah, so this has less to do with law and more to do with your hatred toward the two families. Listen, we are not having this conversation. I determine who is arrested, not you. And as far as I’m concerned, Derek came through on what he said. You gave a warning and removed Jessie from Eureka. So what, you didn’t find an arsenal of weapons. Who cares? Move on.”
As quick as a flash, Benjamin turned. “I care. The people out there care. And so should you if you don’t want things to spiral out of control any more than they have, and trust me, they are going to get worse from here on out. If either one of these families has an arsenal of weapons, they are a threat. We could be looking at an all-out war.”
“This is not a war, captain. You can’t just go charging into places, demanding people hand over guns. Here, in this town, under the circumstances, well that’s different. We have some leeway but we have provided people with options. We aren’t just demanding they hand over weapons. What we have in place right now may not be ideal but in light of the threats we are facing, I think it’s fair. No. For the time being, I don’t want any of you going near Derek Strickland.”
“Why don’t you just go with me? That way he can tell you how he came to learn about this arsenal. I think there is more to this. I think we are overlooking something important.”
“It’s not happening. We have bigger things to deal with right now like who’s scalping locals in the county.”
Benjamin nodded. “All right. All right. But I’m giving you the heads-up now. Mark my words. You let this slide, and you could have a problem on your hands.”
He turned and walked out of there, gritting his teeth and balling a fist. He wanted nothing more than to reach over that table and strangle Dan but he couldn’t, not now. Making his way down the corridors, he turned left into the staircase just as Deputy Johnson stepped out, bumping into him.
“Oh, I’m sorry, captain.”
“Not a problem.” That’s when it dawned on him. Maybe he was going about this the wrong way. He’d seen the way Dan had Johnson follow him around like a shadow. The way he referred to him at times, getting his input. “In fact, you’re just the man I want to see.”
“I am?”
“The sheriff wants us to handle a matter. Let’s go,” he said.
“Concerning?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” Benjamin held the door open for him to go back into the stairwell and then cast a glance back down the corridor.
It was a simple matter of the right hand not knowing what the left hand was doing. Benjamin knew that to take things to the next level, he needed to be in control. He had to ramp things up. Push his boundaries. Step over a few lines in the sand and see what Dan, the Rikers, and the Stricklands would do. Maybe an arrest was extreme but he had to believe that the Stricklands weren’t any different than the Rikers, and both posed a threat.
And as such, they needed to know their place in the hierarchy.
Then, of course, there was the obvious question that needed to be answered.
He knew that Derek could have said anything to them. He could have come up with any story. Dan was right, Derek had given them Jessie, but he hadn’t just said that Jessie had one gun. He could have. That would have sufficed. It would have been enough to get him in trouble. But he didn’t stop there. He specifically mentioned an arsenal and gold. Why bother? Why even mention that if it wasn’t true? It was that little tidbit on the end that made him think that he was telling the truth. Finding it would be of great use to the militia. It could strengthen their position and give others more incentive to bow the knee.
The question was if Derek hadn’t seen the cache, who had? And why was Dan shielding him? Sure, he could put on the big front about protecting the community, not showing favoritism, and that Derek had been truthful, but he’d seen the look in his eyes. Was it fear? Or something more?
Now, he knew he couldn’t just waltz into Strickland territory and pluck Derek out without reason. Hence, he’d come up with the idea of him making a false report. Had he known the law himself? No. He had one of Dan’s deputies to thank for that. The deputy had told him that the punishment for filing a false report could be up to six months in jail. With the state of the jail system in Eureka, he figured he might be able to use that as a ploy to apply pressure on the Stricklands.
Of course, to make a charge like that stick, he would need to skirt around Dan and have another deputy made aware of this. Either way, whether Derek was arrested today, or allowed to go free, he planned to find out for sure if this arsenal of weapons existed. The gold was just the cherry on the cake.
They were already halfway there when Johnson asked, “Are you sure Dan approved of this?”
“Positive. The Rikers have been given the option, the Stricklands haven’t yet. We can’t have them waltzing into town with firearms. I offered to come up here with my crew but he said that he felt better if you went with us. You know, with your close ties with the community and all. Just in case things get out of hand, you could act as a mediator.”
He nodded.
As they rode side by side on horses, with two of his men behind him, he fished for details, any dirt he could dig up on Dan.
“Forgive me for asking but I notice Dan seems a little… what would you call it… green?”
Johnson looked at him. “That’s because he hasn’t been in office long.”
“Ah, right. And so he was a deputy like yourself before this?”
“What are you asking, captain?”
“Under the circumstances we’re facing, and with the mayor dead, would it not make sense to have him step down, just temporarily, and let someone more capable take the reins?”
“Are you suggesting yourself?”
“Of course not.” He chuckled. “I’m no glorified pen pusher. No, I’m a hands-on man. I like to roll up my sleeves and avoid all that paperwork. Though I imagine you haven’t been doing much of that lately.”
He cut him a glance. “Dan is doing a good job.”
“But you could do better.”
Johnson’s eyes widened.
“I mean. Correct me if I’m wrong but you seem to be the brains behind the department whereas he’s merely the face.”
“He’s the sheriff, captain. And I have no intention of taking over from him for now. So if you don’t like his ways, that’s fine, but you’ll have to get used to them. I support him in his duties and I don’t plan on going behind his back,” he said in a tone that indicated he knew what Benjamin was trying to do. Mutiny. And yes, he was right. It seemed that perhaps Johnson wouldn’t be better. Still, he had to test him. Poke the nest. See what he was made of. See who he was dealing with. Unfortunately, he was loyal, one of those by-the-book kinds of guys. God, he hated those. So picky. So deluded. He’d soon get him in line.
“Just to give you a heads-up. Expect them to come out armed. Keep your finger off the trigger and they won’t give us any issues,” Johnson said as they rounded a bend on a single dirt track.
The terrain of the mountain was rough and offered hardly any visibility to what lay ahead. In many ways, it was the perfect place to have a homestead, somewhere remote, protected by a curtain of towering redwoods. He’d heard stories of the outlaw culture. Those who burrowed deep into the woods to run their illegal activities. They were the kind of people that would have fit in perfectly with the militia — folks who
didn’t like government dipping a finger into their profits every year, folks who didn’t mince words and were more than ready to squeeze a trigger if necessary.
The closer they got to the Strickland farm, the more No Trespassing signs there were. Rusted. Sticking out of the earth. Some nailed to trees.
And then…
Long before they saw a gate, or fencing with barbed wire — they heard them.
The guttural roar of engines.
Not one, not two, but at least five on ATVs, masked up like outlaws with baseball caps and camouflage clothing. All of them sporting assault rifles on their backs. It was a show of force, a message to anyone looking to get close.
Johnson lifted a fist and the riders stopped their horses. “Let me do the talking.”
Chapter Sixteen
The act of violence upon Jessie was a warning. A clear message. Colby sat on the porch with his family, listening to them make accusations. Miriam believed it was the Stricklands’ retribution — another strike at their family — for the death of the Strickland three. Others agreed. He wasn’t too sure.
His mother hadn’t come out of the house since he’d returned.
It had taken a good hour to get the family doctor to come up to the house and in that time, tempers had flared. Each of them burned with indignation.
This shouldn’t have happened.
An agreement had been made.
Colby ran a hand through Kane’s fur, staring into the redwoods, pondering. The smell of the damp forest permeated the air. A cool breeze blew against his cheeks. Hours earlier he was all but ready to pick up and leave the county, but now with a threat against the Wiyot Tribe and an attack upon his kin, it was beginning to look less likely.
The attack had unearthed something buried deep in him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Anger. The same anger he’d tried to keep in check all these years. Pushed down. Tried to ignore it. One that was nurtured from an early age. The kind that had fueled generations of Rikers to lash out.