The Rented Mule

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The Rented Mule Page 31

by Bobby Cole


  “That’s it, Commander! That’s where we pinged him!” Obermeyer said as excited as he had ever been. Both of his major crimes had significant breakthroughs within minutes of each other.

  “Have the patrol boys lock down Wright’s place and keep an eye out for him. Stretch police tape around the whole yard. I’ll get a warrant and a crime scene unit to your twenty to start processing, and I’ll get out an APB immediately on Mark Wright.”

  “Don’t let ’em touch anything in here. It’s pristine. It’s a gold mine of information and insight.”

  “O, I need you at the maid’s house right now. Blue lights to the Walmart on the Atlanta Highway. We’ll pick up a couple patrol units and go to her house. I’m getting a search warrant for her place as well.”

  “I hate to leave here, Commander,” he replied, standing in the hall, looking into the shrine and wanting to dig deeper.

  “You’re the only one who’s had dialogue with Dixon. If he’s there, I’ll need you to talk him out. I’ll have our snipers in place before you get there, just in case it goes to shit. Don’t worry, we’ll find Mark Wright. He’s been hiding in plain sight for months and unless he drives up, he won’t know we’re on to him. I’ll have the officers seal the house and lock down the exits to the neighborhood. Nobody will be able to leave. Don’t worry, O; we’ll get him.”

  Obermeyer glanced down the hall toward the den and then turned and stared at the shrine. He had read about deranged criminals doing this, but this was his first to witness. Normally, shrines are pictures taped to a wall and maybe a few extraneous things that remind the psycho of his obsession. This guy, though, turned it up a notch with his sophisticated electronics. This techno shrine was easily portable by downloading it to an external device, allowing him access anywhere there was a computer, modern television, or even on a smartphone. This is one kinky dude.

  His mind jumped to a thought about catching Cooper, hiding in his housekeeper’s bathtub, behind a shower curtain. He wanted to stay to study the lair, but the commander was right. Cooper was a priority. Tonight was turning into a career-defining evening for him. His irritable bowel syndrome symptoms were beginning to kick in.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m on my way,” he said and then hung up the cell phone. Detective Obermeyer was thrilled to be needed, finally.

  “Y’all tape off the entire property. No one steps foot inside the tape except the crime scene guys.” He excitedly explained and continued, “And keep your eyes peeled. He just might drive up, not expecting anything. Be sharp. This dude’s an unknown, but at a minimum you should expect an irrational and disproportional violent response to us being here, disrupting his ritual. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I don’t wanna miss that!”

  Detective Obermeyer sprinted to his car.

  CHAPTER 98

  Cooper touched the red dirt at the edge of the small tunnel, quickly peering into the void, and then tried to swallow the lump in his throat caused by his claustrophobia and loathing of the dark. The music pulsated, Mark yelled unintelligibly, and Grayson screamed in fear and pain. Cooper pushed his pistol in front of him as he squatted to get into the passageway. From what he could surmise, the tunnel was about three feet in diameter and had a fairly steep drop in elevation. He couldn’t see the end of it. He quickly tucked the pistol into his waistband at his lower back in order to crawl on his hands and knees. The dirt ceiling touched his shoulders and scraped against his backpack. The tunnel seemed to get smaller the deeper he inched. To overcome his own fears, he focused on saving Grayson from his sadistic father.

  As he progressed through the tunnel, he touched Romex on the ground. He stopped to feel it. Must be the electrical supply for the lights and music, he thought. He considered cutting it, but didn’t want to get shocked or face Mark in complete darkness. He momentarily considered backing out of the tunnel, covering the opening with his gun, and just waiting for the police to arrive, but Grayson’s screams shattered that idea.

  Cooper was not trying to be a hero, but he couldn’t leave—do nothing—knowing Grayson was down there, experiencing some unmanageable hell. He told himself that Kelly was safe and that if Grayson were his child, he would do anything—everything—to save him.

  Cautiously exiting the tunnel, pistol drawn, Cooper was stunned at the size of the cavern that lay before him. The main chamber was the size of a modest three-bedroom house. He was having difficulty comprehending that this volume of space was deep underground. At first blush it looked like a Universal Studios movie set. Taking a deep breath, Cooper took stock of the situation. The two bare bulbs did little to illuminate the vast area. Mark and Grayson were nowhere to be seen or heard.

  Cooper quickly climbed down the old wooden ladder to the floor of the cavern. The music was loud and reverberating from several directions. He crouched behind an old wooden table, searching the shadows for movement. He knew from state history in grade school that Alabama had more caves than almost any other state, some of them giant and stretching for miles, but he had never been in one. There were giant stalactites and stalagmites and other formations he had only seen in magazines. Among the beautiful, natural formations were rusted chains and shackles, neatly coiled and eerily ready… for something. There were two freestanding wooden stocks and a whipping post. Several boards with shackles attached were mounted to the cavern walls. Cooper realized that he was in some sort of torture chamber. Given the age of the house, it probably dated back to the days of slavery.

  The music was so loud that Cooper couldn’t think clearly. Grayson screamed again. The faintness of the shrieks now indicated that they were traveling away from him, farther down into the darkness. Cooper saw the speakers, traced the wires to the sound system, and punched off the power. The stereo was sandwiched between two very large, empty terrarium containers.

  The main cavern chamber appeared to have two large caves or tunnels branching off into the abyss. Cooper clicked on his flashlight to look for footprints. He hated the dark, and being underground, even in a large space, made him feel confined. He looked at the ceiling and swallowed hard.

  “Thanks, Cooper! Now I can hear you comin’. I’m so glad you joined my party! I think you’ll like the guest list: you, me, Grayson, and the five big-ass rattlesnakes that I just let loose. They make wonderful pets. Kinda mean though,” Mark shouted in a suspiciously calm voice. “They don’t move real fast down here in the cool… but they’re still active and surprisingly nasty. I’ve got on snake chaps that will come in handy. Sorry I don’t have any for you or Grayson.”

  Cooper stood, breathing hard. He really didn’t want to respond. He squeezed his pistol and flashlight, while now searching the ground and walls for snakes.

  He stepped carefully as he moved toward Mark’s demented voice and yelled, “Give me Grayson!”

  “You just don’t get it. You’re the problem, not the solution. I swear, how’d you get to be so successful being so freakin’ stupid?” Mark shouted as he purposely led Cooper deeper underground.

  He wanted Cooper in total darkness so that he could double back and get between him and the exit. From years of exploring, Mark had memorized every inch of the twisting half-mile-long cavern.

  “Just let Grayson go. We can talk and work this out,” Cooper answered, noticing hundreds of gray bats hanging from the roof of the smaller cave area. Wonder why these bats haven’t gone out for the night, he thought.

  Cooper could see fresh footprints in the dirt and bat dung. He used his light to follow them. His pistol at the ready.

  “Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna talk with you… and you’re gonna be begging me,” Mark taunted. “You ever heard of Anectine? Wanna try some? My Uncle Don recently did, to his surprise, and I bet some of your huntin’ buddies know what it does.”

  Cooper was freaking out at the mention of the drug. Years ago, when it was legal, he heard of bow hunters placing the drug behind their broadheads in tiny balloon-like bags, called poison pods. If a bow hunter arrowed a deer, even with a p
oor hit, and it drew blood, the poison would kill the animal inside sixty seconds. Those pods were deadly, and he wanted nothing to do with them or the drug.

  After Cooper had traveled about 150 yards or so, he was ready to get out. Mark’s comments, the fear of rattlesnakes, the darkness, and his claustrophobia were starting to overwhelm him. Other than the occasional dripping of water, the cavern was silent. Mark had quit talking, and Grayson hadn’t screamed in several minutes. Cooper stood in complete darkness, thinking about what had brought him to this place, both physically and emotionally.

  Utilizing a smaller tributary cave, Mark circled around Cooper. Grayson’s mouth was covered with duct tape to ensure silence. Mark’s intimate knowledge of the cave allowed him to move quickly in total darkness.

  When Mark and Grayson arrived back at the tunnel to the house, Mark whispered to Grayson, instructing him to remain completely still or else he’d get shocked. Mark quietly opened an old wooden box and retrieved four sticks of dynamite. They were damp from nitroglycerin perspiring through the paper wrapper. He hurriedly inserted aluminum blasting caps and trimmed the fuses to a dangerous four inches, equaling about twenty seconds of burn. Mark knew that Cooper was in deep and smiled at the thought of what lay ahead.

  Opening a newer box, Mark removed a pair of military-grade thermal imaging goggles. After twisting the fuses together, he calmly lit two sticks and tossed them into the tunnel leading to the house. He grabbed Grayson and quickly moved to the far side of the cavern, where they crawled under a giant wooden table. He placed his hands over his ears. Not knowing what was happening, Grayson sat unprotected.

  Twenty-two seconds later the explosion collapsed the tunnel and blew out the lights. A fog of dirt and dust filled the air. Grayson screamed behind his taped mouth, and his demented father smiled. Mark stood up in the total darkness that he loved so much. Placing the thermal goggles over his eyes, he could see the heat from the explosion in the dirt where the tunnel had been. He looked down at the white heat signature form of Grayson on the dirt floor and heard him crying softly. The dirt showed where Grayson had thrashed about. Mark grinned at the thought of Grayson’s fearful struggling. Somehow he had freed his bound hands because the silhouette of the shock collar showed where his warm little hands had attempted to remove it. The tape he took off his mouth was lying on the ground beside him.

  “Man, I love these things,” Mark said aloud but mostly to himself.

  The cave’s ambient temperature made the goggles particularly effective at displaying body heat and remnant warmth from recently touched surfaces. As Grayson got to his knees, Mark backhanded him flat to the floor. Grayson screamed.

  The ominous detonation at a distance echoed through the cavern like no sound Cooper had ever heard. He had no idea that the tunnel had been blown shut, but he knew whatever had just happened was not good. The entire earth seemed to shutter. Hundreds of bats were flying erratically.

  Cooper clicked off his flashlight, squatted down, took a deep breath, and said a prayer for Grayson and himself.

  CHAPTER 99

  Brooke was feeling guilty. If it weren’t for Grayson, she’d be gone. She wanted to go back inside the house to kill Mark with her bare hands, in front of Grayson. She hated Mark—actually “hate” really wasn’t quite strong enough of a word to characterize how and what she felt for him. He had become a nightmare since they divorced. He had changed drastically. Shortly after they married, Mark admitted to a family history of mental disease and that he had been diagnosed bipolar. As long as she kept him on his medications, he seemed fairly normal. But it would take only a few days of being off them to flip his personality switch. Had she not been pregnant, they would have never married. At the time, she thought it the best option for her and her baby. Within a few months, however, she became acutely aware of her error in judgement. Dealing with Mark got much worse after the divorce because among other things, she could no longer monitor his medications. She suspected that he stalked her, but she couldn’t prove it.

  Kelly needed Brooke’s assistance to walk, and once outside Kelly started to shake uncontrollably. Brooke tried to comfort her and realized her own arm was injured as she tried to hold Kelly up. Kelly was so relieved to be free, but she was weak from several days of constant sedation, immobility, and lack of proper nourishment.

  Brooke dialed 911 on the cell phone given to her by Cooper. She rapidly told the operator who she was, that she had Kelly Dixon with her, and that Mark Wright was holding her son hostage. The stunned operator had her repeat everything three times to make certain she understood. Brooke did her best to describe where she was, but she didn’t know exactly. Unfortunately, Coosa County had not installed enhanced 911, so the operator asked Brooke to stay on the line so that they could triangulate her location. “It’s going to take a few minutes,” the operator explained.

  Brooke leaned Kelly against the car and searched the inside for keys. They weren’t anywhere she looked. Brooke wondered if they were inside the house, maybe lying on the kitchen table. She turned her attention to Kelly and saw her eyes rolling back in her head.

  “Hurry, please! I think she’s goin’ into shock,” Brooke screamed into the cell phone.

  “Make sure she’s warm, wrap her in a blanket. We’re doing the best we can, ma’am. I promise,” the operator responded professionally.

  Brooke tossed the phone down and grabbed Kelly, wrapping her arms around her. “Kelly! Kelly! Hang on now, you’re safe. Please stay with me. I’m gonna get you a blanket. You gotta stay warm.”

  “He came for me,” she mumbled.

  “What? What didja say?” Brooke frantically asked.

  “Cooper came and rescued me. He said he loves me.”

  Brooke was being inundated with conflicting emotions. Grayson was in Mark’s evil hands; Cooper was in grave danger too; and the wife of the man she desired was deliriously talking about him and clearly moved by his efforts to find her. Even in Brooke’s fragmented mental state, she could tell that this woman was not the Kelly that Cooper described. Brooke believed that the events of the past several days had changed everything, and the events of tonight would cement the directions of everyone’s lives—that was the only certainty in her world. Since Cooper was protecting Grayson, she needed to help and comfort Kelly.

  “He does. He loves you very much,” she said rubbing Kelly’s head.

  “How do you know Cooper so well?” Kelly asked in a weak voice.

  “I do design work for his agency.”

  “I didn’t think he would come for me. I didn’t think he loved me anymore.”

  “He does. He loves you and your kids very much.”

  “I’ve made a mess of my marriage,” Kelly cried.

  “Marriage is tough, I know. I’ve had the worst one imaginable.”

  “I wanna have our love back. I miss Cooper.”

  “Kelly, you will. You’ll have your marriage back. Just hang on. The sheriff’s trying to locate us,” Brooke replied, letting out a deep breath. Kelly’s words about Cooper were difficult to hear. She continued, “Cooper’s been going crazy this week with worry… I know he misses you terribly. Do you hear me? It’s true, I promise.” She wiped a tear from Kelly’s face, “Listen to me. Cooper loves you. I can tell. You can have your love back. I’m gonna sneak back in the house and see if I can find a blanket. Please, stay right here. Okay?”

  Kelly nodded and with tears in her eyes worriedly looked up at Brooke. Brooke watched Kelly’s faint attempt at a smile. Brooke let out a deep sigh and then put the phone to her ear and asked, “Have you found us yet?!”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’re dispatchin’ all of our deputies and the sheriff. We’ve notified the Montgomery Police Department and volunteers from the fire department are en route. Get in a safe place, and stay put!”

  “Please hurry!” Brooke exclaimed. She glanced at Kelly, threw the phone onto the hood of the car, and then ran as fast as she could toward the old mansion to find a blanket. Please God,
please bring Grayson and Cooper out alive. Please! She prayed.

  As Brooke entered the front door, there was a loud explosion, shaking the house. The old mansion rumbled in response, pictures fell from the walls. Brooke fell to the floor. She couldn’t imagine what had just happened. She stood and then raced toward the kitchen and into a billowing cloud of red Coosa County dust.

  CHAPTER 100

  Detective Obermeyer and his commander led two patrol units into the yard of Millie and Haywood Brown. The last unit pulled immediately to the back of the house as planned. The tension among law enforcement over the last few days had reached a crescendo.

  With skill and precision they surrounded the house, and the commander, who rarely left the comfort of her office, led the charge to the front door. Obermeyer lived for these moments, while hoping his bowels didn’t cause problems. The police had not expected a pissed-off dog, which went into a barking rage, alerting everyone inside that something urgent was happening. The porch light suddenly illuminated the front yard, and Millie Brown cracked open her front door to see two well-dressed people trying to talk the toothy dog into calming down.

  “What’s going on out there?” Millie hollered.

  “Montgomery Police! We have reason to believe you may be hiding Cooper Dixon.”

  “I ain’t got Cooper!” she answered incredulously.

  The dog had taken her barking up a notch with Millie present.

  “Ma’am, we have a search warrant and intend to come into your house and search the premises. Please call your dog off, before something bad happens,” the commander nervously yelled back, noticing a dead snake hung on the fence.

  “Y’all’s welcome to come on in. You don’t need no papers. Sorry ’bout Rolex, she ain’t so welcomin’, but she ain’t gonna bite nobody less’n they try to hurt me.”

 

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