Zeb Hanks Mystery Box Set 1

by Mark Reps

  Deputy Steele gasped quietly as Josh slithered out from beneath the undergrowth not three feet from her.

  “We got ourselves a bad situation,” he whispered. “We are going to have to move fast. Jimmie Joe has the kid tied to small tree. He is ranting and raving and telling Ángel how he killed his girlfriend. It sounds like he broke her neck and torched her.”

  “What exactly do you think Jimmie Joe has in mind?” asked Deputy Steele. “Torture?”

  “Whatever it is, it isn’t good. Looks like he’s pistol-whipped Ángel. He has taken the blood from Ángel’s wound and used it to paint a bulls-eye on his face, another on his chest and one near each arm. I don’t know how quickly this guy likes to kill or how much of the Marquis de Sade he’s got in him, but I would say Ángel’s life could be measured in heartbeats not minutes, unless we move fast.”

  “We’d better get going.”

  “We’ve got a second problem. Zeb is directly opposite us. We don’t want anyone to get caught in crossfire.”

  Kate checked her weapon.

  “How far do I have to move out from here before I can get a clear look at things?” she asked.

  “Fifty feet out and you will be dead center of the small canyon. The small tree he’s got the kid tied to is about fifteen feet away from the canyon wall. It will be on your left. Your shooting distance will be seventy-five, give or take a few feet. Zeb is less than one hundred feet directly opposite us and behind the tree where Ángel is tied. I don’t think he knows we’re here. Follow me.” Josh hand signaled his dogs to crouch and remain silent.

  Deputy Steele snaked along the ground close enough to the heels of Josh’s boots to smell sandy dirt ground into the rubber soles. Reaching the spot with a clear view he stopped. Drawing half way on his knees, using the cast on his left arm as support, Josh viewed the men through his binoculars.

  “If we try and surprise them by getting any closer, we stand a good chance of getting hurt,” whispered Josh loosening his holster strap. “And, we lose the element of surprise.”

  In the distance Jimmie Joe’s voice became crystal clear as he lectured his young, helpless captive.

  “You stupid, fucking, little bastard. What the hell is wrong with you? I literally saved your ass in prison. I get you in on the biggest heist of your wretched life and how do you pay me back? By sneaking up on me like I’m some sort of stupid rookie con? I made a mistake by letting you live earlier. I should have killed you at your grandfather’s house.”

  Deputy Steele watched the pair through the rifle’s scope. Josh eyed them through his binoculars.

  Jimmie Joe suddenly grabbed Ángel by the hair. He forced the gun into his cheek, howling with delight as he distorted his prey’s face. Drawing back he pointed the gun barrel at Ángel’s head. His expression turned vile as he repeatedly brought the handle of the gun down hard on Ángel’s face and neck. Standing back, the big man grunted discordantly before kicking Ángel in the ribs and spitting on him.

  “I don’t know what the hell I’m waiting for. I ought to shoot you right now and get it over with. What good is your fucking, rotten life anyway? Your girlfriend’s dead--your grandfather’s in jail, your mother and your grandmother are dead. I’d be doing you a hell of a favor by having you join them.”

  “Ángel’s not moving,” whispered Deputy Steele.

  “If he has an ounce of smarts, he’s playing possum,” answered Josh.

  Jimmie Joe also noticed his prey wasn’t stirring. He grabbed a tree branch for balance and brought the heel of his boot against the bridge of Ángel’s nose. Angrily he bore down with the full weight of his massive body. Blood hurled through the air.

  “Wake up, you little, brown traitor. It’s no time for a siesta.”

  The insane laughter of the big man echoed in the canyon rousting a pair of night birds whose fluttering wings whooshed in the distance.

  “I never killed a man I couldn’t look in the eye and I’m not starting now. So wake the fuck up.” shouted Jimmie Joe. “I said, wake the fuck up.”

  Half lying on his side, head tilted back, Ángel didn’t stir.

  “Maybe he’s dead already,” whispered Deputy Steele.

  “He’s not. Zero in on his hands. He’s a tough little soldier.”

  Deputy Steele sighted the scope toward Ángel’s hands. Tied behind his back, around the thin base of the mesquite tree, Ángel’s fingers were clawing at the ground, gathering sand and dirt, possible weapons for one last stand. She returned the aim of her rifle back toward Jimmie Joe who had now tucked his gun under his arm. He opened a water bottle, twisted Ángel’s neck toward the ground so his nose was pointing upward and began pouring water into his nostrils. Ángel sputtered reflexively.

  “So the little muchacha is awake now, is he?”

  “Go to hell, Jimmie Joe. You son of a bitch. Go straight to hell!”

  The stillness of the night provided no resistance for the raw tension of barbed hatred zinging through the air. Deputy Steele raised the 30.06 to her eye. She drew a bead just above Jimmie Joe’s ear. The big man began to pace slowly back and forth, repeatedly checking his weapon. Directly behind him, in her scope, she saw Sheriff Hanks moving through the underbrush toward Jimmie Joe. If she missed or the bullet passed through Jimmie Joe, it would head directly toward the sheriff. Josh held a rock in his good hand. He set his .45 at his side so he could quickly pick it up once he tossed the rock. Setting his gun down was a gamble. It was a risk he had to take if his plan was going to be executed. Moreover, he was hoping he wouldn’t have to use his .45.

  “Time is running out,” he whispered. “If we are going to act, it has to be now.”

  The utter calmness in his voice sent a chill down Kate’s spine. Her heart raced as she looked through the scope. Deputy Kate Steele could practically hear the wings of the Angel of Death approaching.

  “I’m going to throw this rock directly between us and him. I’m hoping Jimmie Joe will turn directly toward you when he hears the noise. He may crouch down so be ready for that. You will have three, maybe four seconds to get your best shot. If we don’t do this now, Ángel is a dead man. It’s up to you to save that young man and rid the world of a wicked one.”

  Through the scope she eyed Jimmie Joe Walker. For the first time in her life she recognized what pure evil looked like. If she pulled the trigger, this devil would be dead. But the line of her aim was such that she would almost certainly hit Zeb as well. If she did nothing, Ángel Gómez would most certainly die.

  “It is time to save the life of an Ángel,” she whispered. “Don’t throw that rock yet. Give me thirty seconds to sneak around behind Jimmie Joe, then throw the rock. I need a clear, safe shot.”

  “I don’t like it,” said Josh. “That is dangerous for you and we increase the risk of Jimmie Joe killing Ángel.”

  Before Josh could complete his sentence Kate was moving stealthily through the underbrush behind Jimmie Joe. Through his binoculars he watched as she slipped behind a split cactus tree, not more than a dozen feet behind Jimmie Joe. She found Jimmie Joe in the scope, looked toward Josh, nodded and looked back through her scope. She took one step forward to steady her position. At that instant her foot caught between two rocks and she stumbled forward falling on top of her weapon. Simultaneously Josh tossed the rock. One second later the .45 was in his hand, pointed at Jimmie Joe. Life then became a series of slow motion events.

  Kate’s sense of hearing became so exacting that the rock arcing through the thin night air brought a clear whistling sound to her ear. Overhead, a pair of mated killdeer gracefully shifted their unified flight pattern as the stone descended onto a small bush breaking a branch, rustling dead leaves. Behind Jimmie Joe, Zeb, on bended knee with his finger resting on the trigger, aimed his rifle toward the big man who suddenly disappeared into the undergrowth.

  Jimmie Joe smiled as he pointed his weapon directly into the face of Deputy Steele. Slowly he pulled the rifle from beneath her.

  “Bad day to
be you,” he whispered. “One sound out of your mouth and you are a dead woman. Got that?”

  She nodded. Jimmie Joe pulled a filthy bandana from his pocket, ripped in in half and quickly tied Kate’s hands behind her back and gagged her. She knew Sheriff Hanks and Josh were out there and could possibly save her life. What she had not figured on was how quickly Jimmie Joe assessed the situation.

  “Sheriff, are you listening?”

  No response was forthcoming.

  “I know you see my little friend tied to the mesquite tree.”

  Jimmie Joe quickly pulled the weapon Kate had been carrying to his shoulder.

  “Thanks for the scope, Deputy,” he said as he pointed the gun at the helpless Ángel. “Adiós Ángel.”

  The gunshot took less than a fraction of a second to tear Ángel’s chest apart. He gasped once, lightly. His head fell forward. His life was over.

  “Your deputy is next, Sheriff. You’ve got thirty seconds to come out with your weapon over your head or she dies. You know I will do it.”

  The seconds began ticking off the clock inside Zeb’s head. He knew Josh was near but didn’t know where. Ten seconds passed. The guilt of Deputy Funke dying under his command raced through his head. He couldn’t let Deputy Steele die. He had to risk his own life for the slim possibility of saving hers.

  “Twenty seconds, Sheriff. Your deputy is breathing her final breaths unless you do something now.”

  Silence.

  “Fifteen seconds. My finger is getting itchy.”

  Zeb lifted his weapon over his head and walked into the open space next to the murdered Ángel Gómez.

  “Good move, Sheriff. Now put the weapon down in front of you.”

  Zeb did as ordered. Jimmie Joe once again put the weapon to his shoulder. Josh Diamond was watching all of this through his binoculars. With a silent move of two fingers he ordered his dogs to attack. As they flew through the brush Jimmie Joe turned and Deputy Steele swung her legs around knocking him off balance. Falling, his shot went wide. Zeb hit the dirt.

  Jimmie Joe righted himself, turned and found himself staring down a gun barrel. He reached for his holstered .38. Josh’s weapon was aimed directly between Jimmy Joe’s eyes. His finger felt weightless as it rested lightly against the trigger. Exhaling slowly he felt the warm flesh of his finger squeezing against the cold metal of the trigger. He had vowed never to fire on another human being. Suddenly his dogs were within feet of Jimmie Joe Walker. Walker instinctively pointed his weapon at the dogs. It was his last mistake. Josh exhaled, and pulled the trigger. The shot was true. It split the skull of Jimmie Joe Walker. As his body buckled, his crumbling legs gave way to the onrushing forces of certain death. Landing on his knees in a praying position, his body paused momentarily. A cry of devilish despair erupted from his bloodstained lips. Abruptly his head snapped back and then jerked forward again. Jimmie Joe Walker breathed his last tormented breath, crashing face first into the jagged underbrush.

  The killdeer overhead curved further away. The dogs raced circles around the dead man. Kate freed her hands from the bandana, removed the gag from her mouth and spit. Her mind was numbed. Never had she seen so much death so close up. Zeb picked up his weapon and stood over the body of Jimmie Joe Walker. Josh appeared out of the darkness.

  The sight of a massacred Ángel shook Kate to her core. Josh looked at her, his dogs, the gun in his hand and the dead body of Jimmie Joe. He had broken his vow to never shoot another human being. He felt an overwhelming rush of emptiness and sadness. The sorrow of death hung heavily over Josh and Kate. They looked at each other, each seeing the anguish in the other, each feeling the sanctity of life. An unspoken bond of trust, of love, of loss, of giving passed between them. Josh reached out to Kate. They held each other compassionately.

  Zeb stood amidst the death and carnage. An overwhelming number of thoughts rushed through his mind. What he saw in front of him was nearly incomprehensible yet intensely real. His eyes landed on Josh, who had literally saved the day, and on his deputy, Kate Steele, who had come within seconds of death. At his feet was the dead Ángel, a foolish young man caught in a deceitful trap of lies, which were not of his own making. Ángel’s horrible choices had ruined the life of his grandfather, Felipe Madrigal, caused the death of his beloved, Juanita, and had led to the death of Zeb’s friend, Deputy Delbert Funke. Delbert, poor dead Delbert. Corita Funke his lonely, heartbroken mother would spend the rest of her days thinking of what her son might have become. The destroyed life of Felipe Madrigal, the death of his dissolute brother Noah bore down on his being. The deepening confusion regarding Doreen circled in his mind. Zeb stared at the dead body of Jimmie Joe Walker. All he saw was evil, the evil of one man, the evil the heart and mind can carry and the evil that dwells so constantly in this world. Despair over the loss of innocent lives sunk his heart, while rage and anger rose in his mind as he thought of the evil he had to deal with to do his job the way it had to be done.

  His life had once again changed. But it would always be changing. He was beginning to see that is how it would always be. There would always be innocent victims. The said truth was evil would always co-exist with good.

  38

  It was late. Just over twenty-four hours earlier Zeb had witnessed the murder of Ángel Gómez and the killing of Jimmie Joe Walker. Zeb reflected on the craziness that had been his life over the past weeks. The spectre of death haunted him. He could live with the death of Ángel and Jimmie Joe. That was his job. But he was having a very hard time dealing with the death of his longtime deputy and friend, Delbert Funke. Yesterday, Deputy Kate Steele had come within seconds of losing her life too.

  He wrapped his knuckles on the desk monotonously for several minutes. The sound of bone and flesh on wood helped his thoughts to slow down. Zeb knew he should just get away from the office, but he clung to the familiar setting like a life line. When his mind calmed, his thoughts turned to Doreen. He glanced at the clock. As late as it was he was in no hurry to go home to Doreen. The revelation of her past had thrown him for a loop. Zeb couldn’t understand why she had kept her past a secret, especially from him. Why hadn’t she trusted him, and how could he now trust her? He knew he was going to have to deal with it rather than let it fester under his skin.

  Zeb stared at his reflection in the window and thought hard. He was definitely in a place he had never been before. Was it exhaustion? Yesterday’s brutal events? His brother’s death? Doreen’s inability to put her trust in him? Zeb couldn’t quite put his finger on what was sticking in his craw. The only thing he was certain of was everything was changing--he was changing. After all Doreen had been through in her life, it simply wouldn’t be fair to marry her now when his very foundation was on shifting sand.

  In the late night quiet his senses became acute. The sound of Kate’s pen scratching across a piece of paper echoed down the hallway. Zeb sensed that Kate, too, was using the office and paperwork as a hideaway. She had been through hell. Zeb listened to Kate’s chair scoot across the worn wooden floor of her office. He listened to her footsteps coming down the hall. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway of his office.

  “Zeb, do you have a minute?”

  Zeb motioned to the chair sitting directly in front of his desk.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  Kate got right to the point. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” she replied. “About my job, my future, my relationships--you name it, I’ve been thinking about it.”

  “Join the club,” replied Zeb.

  “I think I should talk to someone.”

  “About yesterday?” asked Zeb.

  “About a lot of things. Yesterday--well--I know I could have died, but I don't think that's it. I understand the potential for death and injury come with this job. I accept that. Actually, I find it exciting. I guess it’s what I don’t feel that has me confused.”

  “Meaning what?” asked Zeb.

  “Meaning this job affects everyone around me. I don
’t know how close I want to get to Eskadi right now. I don’t think it’s fair to him if I can’t give one hundred percent to the relationship.

  Zeb nodded. His lips pursed in a half smile. He understood completely. Years ago Jimmy Song Bird and former sheriff Jake Dablo had told him when you face difficult problems in your life you never really know where answers will come from. Both of these men firmly believed that the universe would always provide answers at precisely the moment you needed them. Both men were flawed in their own way, yet both understood the ways of the world.

  “Might I suggest you have a heart to heart chat with Jimmy Song Bird and Jake Dablo?

  Kate thought for a few short moments before responding, “Good idea. Thank you.”

  “No, Kate, thank you.”

  Kate eyed Zeb inquisitively. Zeb’s face gave away nothing.

  “Let’s call it a night. The paperwork can wait for one more day,” said Zeb.

  They both stood to leave. Zeb reached out. Expecting a handshake, Kate was confused when Zeb gave her a big hug. Once again he thanked her. The thank you was for something she didn’t fully understand.

  Zeb pulled into the driveway. Doreen was waiting for him with a cup of decaffeinated tea. They hugged and walked in silence to the living room.

  “How’s my sugah…”

  Zeb raised a solitary finger to his lips. As Doreen looked into the face of the man she loved, a single tear rolled down her cheek and died on her lips.

  “You can’t marry me, can you?”

  “No,” he replied. “I can’t. Not now. With all that's been going on, I...”

  Now it was Doreen's turn to put a finger to her lips.

  “I understand.” Doreen’s response was sad but not heartbroken. “I can wait.”

  “Doe, I can’t really explain exactly what’s going through my heart. If I could tell you when or if I’ll be ready to move forward, I would. You have a right to know, but I don’t know myself. Right now I feel like I might only cause you more heartache. You don’t deserve that.”