Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series

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Justice Overdue: A Private Investigator Mystery Series Page 4

by Rayven T. Hill


  CHAPTER 9

  Thursday, 3:24 PM

  VARICK LUCAS could just as easily have stolen a car and headed out without any witnesses. Or he could’ve killed the Drapers, dumped their bodies somewhere, and taken their car with no one the wiser.

  But then, that wouldn’t suit his plans. He needed witnesses—someone who would tell the cops he was heading east. Because of course, the cops surely suspected he was heading toward home and family, and the Draper’s testimony would serve as more proof of that.

  But he wasn’t going to go east. He was going to head north.

  He had a little unfinished business to take care of, and then he would lie low awhile before deciding what his future held. And his future didn’t include life behind bars. He’d had enough of that and wasn’t going back no matter what.

  He drove for about a half hour before coming across the next rest stop, where he pulled off. Time for a switcheroo.

  It wouldn’t take long for the cops to find out about this vehicle and search for it. He had to ditch it—now, and this 24-hour joint would be just fine.

  Lucas pulled around to the side of the restaurant and into the busy parking lot. He found an empty slot in the middle of the rest of the vehicles, pulled into the spot and got out.

  Hidden in plain sight. It might be weeks before they came across it here.

  He took a chance and went inside the restaurant. He felt famished, so he ordered a hamburger, then bought a pack of cigarettes from a vending machine and went back to the vehicle.

  He leaned against the hood of the car and munched his meal, watching as hungry travelers came and satisfied ones went. He crinkled up the empty foil, tossed it under the car next to him and belched. Slipping a cigarette from the pack, he lit it and blew the smoke upwards. He watched it dissipate high above his head, free and untouchable, just like he would be soon.

  A stern-looking man with a long, somber face and high forehead was coming his way. He looked like an accountant or something. And he was alone. Just what he was waiting for; he should be easy to take care of.

  Lucas sauntered leisurely between the cars, not looking at his mark, but timing it so their paths would meet just as his intended victim reached his vehicle.

  He took a glance around. All clear. As he drew closer, he slipped the pistol from his waist and held it behind his back.

  The man had his keys out, pointed toward his vehicle. As he pressed the fob, Lucas heard a distinct beep as car doors unlocked. Beautiful. It was another good family car, a brand new Honda Accord, a discreet vehicle that wouldn’t attract any attention.

  He waited until the man reached his car before ambling over, and then he gripped the gun tighter and approached his target as the vehicle door swung open.

  The man looked up, his dark eyes wide, curious. “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so,” Lucas said, and swung his right hand, the pistol catching his prey full on the side of the head. The victim’s eyes bulged, a soft moan escaped his lips as the air shot out, and then he went down. But not out.

  Lucas straddled him and raised the pistol. The man’s arm came up and grabbed Lucas by the wrist, warding off the blow. This guy was tougher than he looked. His victim opened his mouth, no doubt about to call for help. Lucas’s other hand clamped into the man’s throat and squeezed, cutting off his vocal cords. He really wanted to shoot the guy but that wouldn’t do. He needed to be as discreet as possible. For now, anyway.

  The man cursed him with his eyes even as his breathing grew shallower. The grip on Lucas’s wrist weakened, his hand fell away, his eyes fluttered, and he was as good as done.

  It took a few more swings with the butt end of the pistol before Lucas felt satisfied the job was finished. The man had stopped breathing, would never breathe again, but blood soaked the pavement and had spattered onto his own shirt. He hadn’t wanted to make a mess, but it couldn’t be helped.

  Lucas ducked as a pair of lovers passed a row away. The idiots only had eyes for each other but Lucas stayed low and waited until they were gone.

  All clear. Time to clean up and get out of here.

  He dragged the body to the rear of the vehicle, flipped the trunk open and heaved it inside. The guy wore a t-shirt—thin, but it would be better than nothing. He ripped it from the body and sopped up as much of the blood from the pavement as he could, and then spread the rest around. That would have to do. He hoped no one would notice, but even if they did, he would be long gone and the police would be hard pressed to figure out what happened until he was safely away.

  He tossed the stained clothing into the trunk, slammed the lid, and took another look around. Nobody.

  He hummed to himself as he climbed inside the vehicle and started the engine. His plan was working well.

  Another couple with a pair of brat kids left the restaurant, heading his way. Lucas pulled down the sun visor, rested his elbow on the edge of the window, and covered his face. They were two spots away, but they didn’t pay him any attention as they packed their kids inside, climbed in their vehicle, and drove off.

  And now, it was his turn to be gone. He backed carefully from the spot, crossed the lot, pulled onto the on-ramp, and merged into the eastbound traffic.

  CHAPTER 10

  Thursday, 4:03 PM

  MATTY AND KYLE wrestled in the back seat as Jake pulled the SUV onto Highway 11. He flicked on the radio and settled in for the long ride north to Algonquin Provincial Park.

  The park—more like a nature reserve, really—was located about 200 miles north of Toronto. Larger than dozens of countries throughout the world, it covered almost three thousand square miles of lakes, trails, and forest, much of it uncharted and untrodden by humans.

  Jake knew the wilderness waters of the isolated and unspoiled habitat contained plenty of brook and lake trout, as well as smallmouth bass. He had found a special spot near Wendigo Lake a few years ago, deep in the interior, and he had shared it with Annie and Matty a couple of times in the past. He and Hank had been up there last year as well, and it was one of his favorite getaways.

  He leaned forward and turned up the radio as a news story caught his attention. Apparently, Varick Lucas, the escaped killer they had heard about earlier on the television, had still not been apprehended. An RCMP spokesman assured the listeners they were hot on his trail and expected Lucas to be taken into custody soon.

  “Are we almost there?” Kyle asked, his voice impatient.

  Jake glanced in the rear view mirror and laughed as Matty answered. “Not yet, Dummy. We just left home. It’s gonna be at least a couple hours, maybe more.” Matty spun around, reached over the back of the seat, and undid the strap of his backpack. “Here, I brought some comics.” He removed them from the pack and turned back, handing one to Kyle. In a moment, the boys had settled into reading about their favorite heroes.

  Just over two hours later, Jake yawned and slowed the vehicle as he approached the small town of Sanridge. They were less than fifteen minutes from the northern park entrance but the boys needed a bathroom break and so did he. Besides, this was the best place to grab those last minute supplies before leaving civilization for the next couple of days.

  He turned the SUV into a small gravel lot that served as the parking area in front of an old-fashioned general store, the kind of place that sold just about everything. A sign beside a single pump out front offered gasoline and a free window wash. Another sign boasted they sold live bait and sandwiches.

  The boys jumped from the vehicle as it ground to a stop, happy to have a little freedom. Matty dashed across the lot, Kyle behind him.

  “Don’t go too far, guys,” Jake called. “We’re not staying long.”

  The proprietor of the store sat out front, slouched back in an old wooden chair, his arms crossed. As Jake approached, he eased himself to his feet, a welcoming grin on his face, and a twinkle in his friendly eyes. His furrowed features and grizzled hair showed the years behind him.

  “Welcome.” The old man’s v
oice crackled with age as he extended a hand. “Going campin’?”

  Jake nodded and shook the offered hand. “Just for the weekend.”

  “From the city, are you?”

  Jake nodded again.

  “Get lots of city folk here. Fact is, more city folk than locals. Busy in the summer time. Not so much now in September.” The old man took an uncertain look toward the sky. “Gonna be an early winter this year. It’ll be cold afore long. Couple more weeks or so. Maybe another month, maybe two, it’ll be all snow ‘round these parts.”

  Jake followed the man’s view and decided the old-timer knew what he was talking about, even though the warm afternoon sun beating down denied that cooler weather waited just around the corner.

  “Where you headed?” the man asked.

  “Wendigo Lake. I’ve been there before. A couple of times, actually, and it’s a nice quiet spot.”

  “I know the place. A few miles in, but well worth the trip. You won’t likely be disturbed much there. Just bears and birds to keep you company.”

  Jake chuckled. “And mosquitoes.”

  “You might want some spray fer them.” The old man squinted. “Yer skin looks kinda tender.” He nodded toward the door. “And them boys of yers are gonna need it. Skitters like young blood and tender skin.”

  “We have some already, but I might get more, just in case.”

  “Got bear spray too? You never know when one of them critters is gonna come at you. Best be safe than sorry. I got the best spray they make. It’ll stop ‘em in their tracks every time.”

  Jake smiled at the eager merchant. “We have bear spray, thank you.”

  “Best come inside,” the elderly man said, motioning toward the open doorway.

  Jake stepped inside the antiquated building and was greeted by a homey aroma. Rows of shelves, stacked high with merchandise, covered the worn hardwood floor.

  “What can I get for you?”

  “I need some bait. Maybe a few snacks for the boys.” Jake glanced around. “I could use a new coffee pot, if you have one.”

  The man cracked a smile. “We got everything. Just help yerself and I’ll take care of you.”

  A bell rang at the front of the store. Jake glanced toward the sound. A Honda Accord had pulled up to the gas pumps, waiting for service.

  “I have to look after a customer,” the old man said. He pointed a crooked finger toward the door. “Restroom’s outside round the corner if you need it ‘fore you go.”

  “We will,” Jake said, and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Annie’s number, and as he waited for her to answer, he wandered up and down the aisles collecting necessities.

  When Annie answered, Jake said, “We’re just here in Sanridge. I’m not going to have any cell reception soon, so I wanted to let you know we’re ok.”

  “Glad you called,” Annie said. “How are the boys?”

  “Couldn’t be better. Just a little anxious to get there.”

  Annie laughed. “Oh, I’m sure you are too.”

  Jake dropped an armload of items on the front counter. “Any news?”

  “No, nothing new here. You haven’t been gone that long. What did you expect to happen?”

  Jake chuckled. “Nothing, really. Just wondering.” He paused. “I’ll call you again Sunday afternoon on our way home.”

  “Have fun,” Annie said.

  Jake hung up and went to the counter where the old man had returned and was ringing in the purchases, packing them carefully in a box. He paid in cash, bid farewell to the friendly storekeeper, and lugged the box to the SUV.

  Matty and Kyle sat on the grass nearby, laughing, worn out and panting. Jake beckoned them over and in two minutes, the SUV was speeding up the road on the final leg of its journey.

  CHAPTER 11

  Thursday, 4:18 PM

  VARICK LUCAS had done about all he could to convince the cops he was heading east. And he was pretty sure he’d be ok with this car for now; it would be awhile before anyone reported its driver missing. It would get him to his destination, and then he would have to ditch it.

  The body would be ok in the trunk for a few more minutes. If he got stopped by the law, that would be the least of his worries. He let up on the gas pedal and brought the Honda down to the speed limit. He’d best drive carefully. Of course, he could always kill any nosy cop dumb enough to pull him over, but he’d come so far now it’d be a shame to take any unnecessary chances.

  He touched the gun at his waist, a backup weapon if necessary. He’d already left a lot of bodies in his wake and he only had firm plans for one more before he settled into his life of ease and freedom.

  His plan had necessitated going east, and that meant he was many miles out of his way. Fortunately, traffic was sparse on this stretch of highway.

  He glanced in his rear-view mirror. Satisfied no one was behind, he hit the brakes hard, spun onto the shoulder, jumped from the vehicle, and popped the trunk. Dead eyes stared up at him as he dug in the pockets of the victim and found a wallet. Lucas flipped it open. It contained the usual stuff. Credit cards, driver’s license, and a couple hundred in cash. Lucas could use the cash. He removed the bills, stuffed them into his pants pocket and tossed the wallet back into the trunk.

  He hoisted the body out, dropped it onto the shoulder of the road and rolled it into the ditch. It would be found there before long. Someone in a passing car would be sure to see it. Just what he wanted.

  He glanced down the road. No traffic in sight. He jumped in, spun back onto the highway, and sped away.

  Time now to head north, then back west to get to his destination. He took the next off-ramp, circled around the cloverleaf interchange, and entered a northbound two-lane highway.

  Ottawa stood pretty much north of him, an hour or so away, but he wanted to avoid it. He would take the side roads before he reached the city, and then head west.

  He thought back to more innocent times. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly when his life had changed. Despite his out of control father, Varich had been known as a peacemaker in school. Always the last to fight, and the first to make up. He was the teacher’s pet, and the pride of his mother. Then everything changed. He changed.

  But for better or for worse, he was what he was, and he was going to make the best of it. No use dwelling on what could have been—what came next was all that mattered.

  Two hours later he was just about where he wanted to be as he approached the small town of Sanridge. A red light on the dash told him the vehicle was dangerously low on gas. He didn’t have far to go now, but he would never make it. Wheels ground and snapped on gravel as he pulled in front of a gas pump at a small general store. In a moment, a wizened old man came out.

  Lucas wound down his window, keeping his face covered by the sun visor. “Five dollars worth.”

  “Just five?”

  “Yup.”

  As the man pumped the gas, Lucas glanced around. The only other vehicle in sight was a Toyota RAV4 parked in front of the building. A couple of boys ran around in front of the store. He could vaguely make out someone moving around inside the shop.

  “That’s five dollars, sir.”

  Lucas handed a bill through the window without turning his head, pulled away, and turned back on the highway. Soon, he left the little town behind. Forests lined both sides of the road and everything looked pretty much all the same to him. But he’d been here before and knew the place he was looking for was just ahead.

  He kept an eye on the left side of the road and in a few minutes, breathed a sigh of relief. There it was. A narrow lane, and no traffic around. He pulled into the laneway and up to a chain-link gate. Paying no heed to a large “Danger/No Trespassing” sign, he swung open the unlocked gate, drove inside, and then closed the gate.

  He jumped back in the vehicle and took a rarely used lane in about a quarter mile. There it is. He smiled grimly and pulled the vehicle to within a few feet of a large quarry. He climbed from the car and eased up to t
he edge. It was filled with murky water, still and quiet. A perfect place to hide a vehicle. He couldn’t afford it to be found and possibly connected to him. That would ruin all his plans.

  He glanced around, found a sturdy stick, broke off a piece about eighteen inches long, and returned to the vehicle. The engine roared as he wedged the stick between the seat and the gas pedal. That should do it. He opened the driver window, jumped out, closed the door, and then reached in and pulled the gearshift into drive. The tires whined on the grass and spat up gravel as the vehicle sped ahead, spun sideways, and then toppled into the quarry.

  Lucas watched with grim relief as the car filled with water and slowly sank. Bubbles rose for a few minutes, and then all was still again.

  He turned his back on the scene and walked toward the highway. He didn’t have far to go now and he could easily make it the rest of the way on foot. He walked down the shoulder of the road, keeping an eye out for traffic in either direction. He ducked into the ditch and lay low as the SUV he saw at the general store came into view and breezed by.

  He estimated he’d walked about a mile when he noticed a familiar landmark—a large outcropping of rock. This was the place. He hopped the fence, made his way into the forest of Algonquin Park, and wound his way among the trees. He wished he had a compass, but it was too late for that now. He felt pretty sure he knew where he was going. At any rate, he was in no hurry now, being well out of danger.

  An hour later he topped a knoll and smiled at the sight of a log cabin.

  “Ah. Home at last.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Thursday, 7:02 PM

  JAKE PULLED THE vehicle into the parking lot and stepped out. Of the several vehicle entry points to Algonquin Park, the North Gate was nearest to where they were headed.

  Matty and Kyle tagged along behind as Jake entered the rustic building that offered visitors a small snack bar, public telephones, rest rooms, and other amenities.

 

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