Should Be Dead (The Valkyrie Smith Mystery Series Book 1)

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Should Be Dead (The Valkyrie Smith Mystery Series Book 1) Page 5

by Jeramy Gates


  “I’ll have Nate help you back to your car.”

  “That won’t be necessary. But please, if you wouldn’t mind, keep me apprised of the situation?”

  “Of course. I’ll call if we learn anything. If you come up with any theories, do the same.”

  “Will do, sheriff.”

  As soon as she got back in her car, Val fired up the GPS. Just as Nate had said, the Marigold RV Park was only two miles up the road. While driving there, she dialed Riley’s office number. The phone rang several times before the reporter finally answered.

  “Riley, it’s Val.”

  “Valkyrie? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, it’s not like… Umm, what can I do for you?”

  “Relax,” Val said, grinning. “I’m just giving you a hard time. I called to give you a heads-up. We found the killer’s van. It’s along the river, west of Forestville.”

  “That’s strange. I didn’t hear a thing on the scanner.”

  “I think the sheriff is trying to keep it quiet. If you hurry, you might get the scoop before that reporter from the Democrat ever knows it happened.”

  “That’s fantastic! Thanks Val, I owe you one.”

  “No problem. You can buy me dinner tonight.”

  “I can?” There was a moment of silence while he processed that.

  “How about eight o’clock?” Val said.

  “Of course. Sounds great! I’ll see you then.”

  Val tried hard not to laugh. She doubted a woman had ever asked Riley out before. Heck, he’d likely never even gone out to dinner with a woman. At least, not one he wasn’t related to.

  Val easily found the Marigold RV Park. The entrance was a steep paved incline right off the highway that shot straight down into a redwood grove. A row of RVs and tents stretched out along the river, and the manager’s office appeared directly in front of her. Val parked. She fished her fake ID out of her jacket, which she had thrown on the passenger seat.

  As she approached the office, which was little more than a one-room shack with a cash register and an old computer, a pretty blonde girl in her early twenties appeared behind the counter. She smiled as Val arrived.

  “I’m Leann. How can I help you?”

  Val showed her badge. “I’m looking for someone who owns a white van.”

  “Space number B-7,” she said without hesitation. “Joe Glenn. See that ratty old trailer and that piece of crap old Ford truck? That’s his. You’ll probably have to wake him up, the worthless dirtbag. Just look for the redneck with a shaved head and a black eye.”

  Val cocked an eyebrow. “A black eye?”

  “Ask him how he got it,” Leann said with a mean smile.

  “I think I already know,” Val said.

  The dirt road leading back to the campsite was thick with fine dust that puffed up in the air with every footfall or touch of her cane. There was no breeze in the sheltered grove. The dust just hung suspended in a low cloud, like a fog drifting along the ground behind her. Up ahead, the road wound back and forth through the trees, and Valkyrie realized that the park was much larger than it had initially appeared.

  Val found Glenn sleeping in a hammock that he had tied between the trunk of a redwood and the back bumper of his trailer. A straw cowboy hat covered his face, and a half-empty case of Budweiser rested on the ground within easy reach. An old blue-heeler yawned lazily as she approached.

  “Mr. Glenn?” she said. He stretched his arms and tilted the brim of his hat up so he could see her.

  “I know you?”

  “No, my name is Val Smith.” She went for her badge, but he bolted out of the hammock and stood facing her. Suddenly, the dog was alert. Its hackles stood straight up and a low growl rumbled out of its chest. Val hesitated, wondering if she should forget the badge and go for her gun.

  “You a lawyer?” Joe said. “‘Cause I ain’t talkin’ to no lawyer. What did Leann tell you anyway? I didn’t touch that slut!”

  “Relax, Mr. Glenn. I’m with the FBI.” She flashed her badge. “I need to ask about your van.”

  “Van?” he echoed. He took off his hat and rubbed the beads of sweat from his smooth head.

  “Yes, your white van.”

  “Oh that ol’ piece of crap,” he said with a laugh. “I sold it.” The dog instantly sensed the change in Joe’s attitude. It turned a few circles and sank into its previous napping spot, but kept a wary eye on the situation as it settled down.

  “The DMV still shows you as the owner of record.”

  “Sorry, I can’t help with that. I filled out the papers and sent them in, just like you’re supposed to. It’s not my fault if Bob didn’t ever go get his new title.”

  “Bob? Who’s Bob?”

  “The guy I sold it to. He lives over there.” Joe pointed at an RV in a space across the park.

  The instant Val turned, the motor home’s engine roared to life. The driver gunned the accelerator and the RV lurched forward, dragging a sewer pipe and electrical cable along with it. The satellite dish on the roof struck a low hanging tree branch and fell to the ground with a crash. A cloud of dust went up as the RV hit the road and went barreling towards the exit.

  Val made a dash for her car. She was surprisingly fast for a woman with a cane and a fused spine.

  Chapter 9

  Loki was in the motor home making a mayo and ketchup sandwich when Val drove into the Marigold RV Park. Not a sandwich with ketchup and mayo of course, but of them. Meat would have been nice, or at least some cheese, but Odin still refused to let him go to the store.

  “The fridge is empty,” Loki had said. “If you keep us cooped up in here much longer, I’ll starve!”

  “Find something,” Odin grumbled. “We’re gonna lay low for a few more days. That’s final.”

  “Why?” Loki demanded. “Why do we have to stay here? What are we waiting for?”

  “A phone call.” Odin’s gaze remained permanently fixed on the TV screen.

  “I knew I should have kept something,” Loki snarled, squeezing a splotch of mayonnaise out of the plastic jar. “A heart maybe, or at least a few fingers… I heard human flesh tastes just like pork roast.”

  “What are you talking about? We’re not cannibals.”

  Speak for yourself, Loki thought.

  Loki never tasted human flesh before. He didn’t know of anyone who had, except for those settlers who’d met their grisly end on the slopes of Donner Pass, or that girl in elementary school who used to pick the peeling sunburn off her arms and eat it.

  He smiled as he thought of her. He wondered what she would taste like.

  That was when Val’s Packard came idling into the park, right up to the front office. Loki heard the noise of the engine and glanced through the window. When he saw the car, he did a double take.

  “That’s her, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “The car! Isn’t that the car?”

  Odin’s eyes didn’t even flicker away from the television. “Shutup. This kid on American Starpower is about to sing a country song he wrote himself.”

  Loki slammed the ketchup bottle down on the counter. “You said they wouldn’t find us here!” he shouted. “I knew I shouldn’t trust you. I’m getting out of here.”

  Loki pushed toward the door, but the larger man leapt up and caught him by the collar. It was the first time since the previous morning that Loki had seen Odin leave the couch. They glared at each other for a second, and then Odin leaned around his companion to gaze out the windshield.

  “I’ll be,” he mumbled.

  “Is it her?”

  “It’s her.”

  “Should we follow her?”

  Odin glanced at his partner and then back at Val, who was still talking to Leann. “What is she doing here?” he mumbled. “There’s no way she tracked us down to this place.”

  “Where’s she going?” Loki said nervously.

  They wat
ched as Val started walking down the road, towards one of the trailers.

  “Get out of the way,” Odin said, shoving Loki aside. He crawled into the driver’s seat and reached up, fumbling with the sun visor. The keys tumbled onto his lap.

  “What are you doing?” Loki said.

  Odin glared at him. “Think about it, moron. What brought her here? How could she possibly have found us?”

  Loki considered it for a few seconds. “The van?”

  “The guy who sold you that van lives right there, doesn’t he?”

  “But we burned it up. We hid it!”

  “Not good enough. They must have tracked it back to him.”

  Odin seemed worried, and Loki didn’t like that at all. Loki had never seen Odin that way. The older man was an experienced killer, a predator. He was usually brimming with confidence.

  Odin fussed with the keys a moment, trying to find the right one. Once he had it, he shoved it into the ignition and turned the switch halfway. The glow-plug light on the dash came on, warning him to wait thirty seconds before starting the old diesel engine.

  “I have an idea,” said Loki. “Why don’t we just kill her?”

  Odin snorted and shook his head. “You truly are an idiot. Look around you. Look at how many people are in this park. She just talked to Leann for Christ’s sake! If we do anything now, we’ll have fifty witnesses to the whole thing. Then what will we do? Kill them all?”

  Loki considered the possibility. Odin called him an idiot again. They both leaned forward, watching intently as Val approached the trailer and began speaking to Joe. After a few moments, Joe raised his arm and pointed straight at them. That was when Odin started the engine and shoved it into drive. He stomped on the accelerator.

  As the RV flew out of the camping spot, the cabinet doors flew open, hurling plastic dishes and paper cups onto the already trash-covered floor. Instantaneously, the satellite dish ripped out of the roof with a horrendous grinding noise and the power line ripped out of the post next to the trailer. A cloud of dust enveloped the RV as it roared up the embankment towards the main road.

  “Why did you do that?” Loki shouted. “Now she knows it’s us for sure!”

  “She already knew, you idiot. Look out the back and see if she’s following us.”

  Loki scooted down the aisle to the back bedroom. He drew back the curtains just in time to see Val’s black sedan coming out of the RV park. “She’s following us!” he shouted.

  Odin cursed. It was the first time Loki had ever seen him do that. Until this moment, Odin had always been in control, always cool and collected; completely professional. So this was what Odin was like when he wasn’t in control. It was fascinating.

  “She’s probably calling the cops,” Odin yelled over his shoulder. “We have to get her off our trail. Do something.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know… try to block the road. Throw something at her.”

  Loki rushed forward and scooped up the ketchup and mayo bottles that had fallen on the floor. He went racing to the back window. He returned a few seconds later.

  “I need something bigger!” His eyes fell on the TV.

  Odin heard the raucous sound of Loki ripping the television off the wall and glanced back over his shoulder just in time to see Loki running down the hall with his TV.

  “What do you think you’re doing!”

  There was a crash as Loki shattered the window, making room for the TV to fit through. Another crash immediately followed, and Odin felt a sick twisting in his gut. Loki let out a cheer and hurried back to the front.

  “How does the refrigerator come out?” Loki said, his eyes wild. Odin punched him in the face.

  The RV swerved wildly across the lines. Loki tumbled back, stars bursting in his vision. He tripped over the easy chair and landed flat on his back in the trash, staring up at the four holes in the roof where the satellite dish used to be bolted down. He blinked.

  Odin returned his attention to the road.

  Loki rose swiftly, purposefully to his feet. He opened the drawer by the sink and withdrew the dull, plastic-handled ten-inch chef’s knife that Odin had purchased at the One Dollar Store a few weeks earlier. It wasn’t sharp at all, but it had a nice serrated age that could chop through anything. Probably even bone.

  Loki took a step towards the driver’s seat. A deep-throated laughter came rumbling out of Odin’s chest. Loki glanced at his partner, and followed the older man’s gaze through the windshield. He saw a parade of bicyclists on the road ahead. There must have been thirty of them, zigzagging around and between one another, dancing out into the lane almost to the center line. They were all wearing spandex pants and brightly painted Styrofoam helmets, and a few had numbers on their shirts.

  “Somebody doesn’t know the rules of the road,” Odin said with menacing grin. He stomped on the accelerator.

  Loki’s eyes widened. He completely forgot what he’d been doing. He dropped the knife and clutched the back of the passenger seat, bracing for the impact. Up ahead, somebody saw them coming and screamed. The bikers started to move out of the way, but it was already too late. There were too many of them. They were too tightly packed together.

  In the midst of their panic, one of the bikers lost his balance and fell down right in the RV’s path. Loki glanced at Odin and a shiver went down his spine as he saw the wild, frantic grin stretched across his partner’s face. For a split second, Odin didn’t look like a man anymore. He looked like a demon.

  Chapter 10

  Val couldn’t see the bicyclists up ahead. The rear end of the motor home filled her vision, swaying unsteadily as Odin swerved back and forth across the lanes. The oncoming traffic lurched onto the shoulder just in time to avoid the RV, tires squealing, horns blaring, kicking up dust and rocks into the air.

  When the first body appeared under the back bumper of the motor home, Val instantly slammed on the brakes. As she skidded to a stop, others appeared. Seven, eight, maybe even ten of them. She put the car in park, turned on the emergency flashers, and watched helplessly as the RV disappeared in the distance.

  “Dial nine-one-one,” she said breathlessly into the speakerphone.

  Nine of the bicyclists were lying in the road. A few were screaming in pain, clutching at broken bones, others not moving at all. A few had escaped major injury but they were dazed, wandering across the two-lane highway as if they had no idea where they were.

  After explaining the situation to the 911 dispatcher, Val rushed up to help the bicyclists. The first man she approached, the one they had run over, was dying. Val knew from his injuries and the volume of blood he’d lost that he’d never make it. She knelt down next to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

  “You’re going to be just fine,” she lied. “Help is on the way. I need you to relax.”

  He tried to say something. A gurgling sound rattled out of his chest. She shushed him.

  “Close your eyes,” she said in a whisper. “Just rest now.” The poor man closed his eyes, let out a long exhale, and went limp.

  After that, everything was a haze. There were so many injured. So many innocent victims. Traffic began backing up in both directions. A few drivers got out of their cars to help, but they couldn’t do much more than try to stop the bleeding while they waited for paramedics. Two men jumped out of a truck and began directing traffic around the accident. Valkyrie worked like a field surgeon, moving from body to body, helping when she could. It wasn’t much.

  Then came the sirens, the flashing lights, people shouting. Paramedics and uniforms raced past her. Nate and the sheriff were there, and at some point, Valkyrie ended up sitting in Diekmann’s truck, listening in as he issued a BOLO on Odin’s RV.

  “That’s all we can do for now,” the sheriff said. “Every cop in the north bay will be looking for that motor home, including the forest rangers. There’s nowhere for him to go between here and the coast.”

  Val stared outside, watching the
paramedics load a sheet-covered body onto an ambulance. She had her hands on her lap and her cane tucked between her knees. Diekmann looked her up and down, noting the blood on her hands and her clothes.

  “There’s something we need to get clear,” he said. “When you offered to stay and help with this case, I agreed under the condition that we were working together. What happened today… you going to the RV park without talking to me first… that won’t happen again.”

  Valkyrie pulled her gaze away from the windshield to look him in the face. Diekmann’s eyes were dark, sunken. He wore a look that reminded Val of her father when she was a child, when he had been disappointed with her.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I should have told you.”

  “Do you understand that if Nate had been there with you, this whole thing might not have happened?”

  Valkyrie doubted that, but she bit her tongue. It would have taken too much effort to explain it all to the sheriff, and it really wasn’t the point anyway. The point was that she had deceived him. She turned her gaze back to the scene.

  “You should get cleaned up,” Diekmann said. “Get some rest, and decide what you’re going to do. From now on, either you’re with us on this case, or I don’t want you here. Do you understand?”

  Valkyrie nodded. Diekmann held his gaze on her. “Are you okay to drive?”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Call me in the morning.”

  Val climbed out of the truck and turned away just as Riley appeared before her.

  “I was going to thank you-” he started, but faltered as he saw the blood on her face. “Are you all right?”

  She leaned against her cane, averting her gaze uncomfortably. “I didn’t get hurt. I just need to get back to the hotel and clean up.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  Riley glanced at Diekmann in the truck, who was staring at them with a dark frown. “I insist,” Riley said. “Besides, I’ve been dying to drive that car of yours. You wouldn’t deny a man his childhood dream, would you?”

 

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