Exposed by Rage

by Sherrel Lee

“The Ranger’s crime scene is on their way to go over everything. My guys are good, but we don’t have the resources they do,” the sheriff said. “

  As we walked back to the trailer, a pickup truck and trailer bounced across the pasture to the house. The Texas Department of Public Safety or TXDPS logo was on the truck and there was a sign on the trailer with the same information. I glanced back and saw something on the ground glisten in the sunlight. Walking over I leaned down to inspect it and saw something familiar. A ring I had given Trixie when I was eleven. Trixie had been here.

  19

  “Search every barn, hut, shack and holler. She may still be on the property somewhere. Look for evidence of an underground shelter.” The Sheriff advised the searchers. “A lot of these old places had fall-out shelters built back in the 50’s but they may not be obvious so use your walking sticks to tap the ground.”

  I had little faith that Trixie was still here, but I hadn’t expected to see any sign of her presence at all, the room didn’t match the one she had been filmed in. Maybe I was just afraid, but I realized I was building a lot of walls lately and since I already had towering cliffs between Trixie and my emotional pool, maybe I had lost the ability to hope.

  The scouts returned and marked out the areas on a generic map where they had found buildings. They hadn’t taken the time to do intense searches, but all had done a cursory look-see, and a few of the buildings appeared to have been used recently.

  One of the men told the Sheriff, “There were prints in the dust. One had a couple of sleeping bags. It could be local teens, but I didn’t see anything that would confirm that. No beer bottles, condoms, nothin’ that screamed nookie.”

  A second officer, pointed to points on the paper indicating ponds and well locations.

  “Okay, so everyone get your gear. Take a radio and I’ll assign the grids,” the sheriff said to the volunteers. Let’s see what we find.”

  Twenty minutes later the crowd had disbursed. “Did you see anyone you recognized, Ms. Gibson? You know I hear on televisions shows, the bad guys like to be part of the search sometimes.”

  I shook my head, biting back a laugh. I just didn’t buy the sheriff was quite as aw-shucks-backwoods-redneck as he wanted to appear.

  It was a long day. DeMarco drove back to the Plano, but I opted to stay and field reports as they came in. I guess I was hoping I would find another clue leading to Trixie. One of the investigator’s determined the property was deeded to an absentee owner, who had inherited the ranch along with a manager, Ernie Varn to oversee the property. The manager showed up in an ancient faded red pickup with a couple of helpers as soon as he heard about the downed fence and the property search.

  “There are two fallout shelters,” he told the sheriff. “One is on the east side of the property and the other is northwest of the barn. Can’t imagine anyone getting’ in ta them, but I’ll take your guys out and show ‘em how to get in. You probably won’t see them without me.”

  Deputy Hill and I climbed into the truck and held on for the ride across the field.

  I was lucky my teeth didn’t shake lose before the ranch manager stopped the bucking bronco ride next to a small stand of trees where he pointed out piping covered with a small cap. A few feet across the field, what looked like solar panels gathered energy. There were no tire tracks or indicators that anything had been opened or disturbed, and the entry was covered with vines and brush. When the man tugged at the entry door it opened smoothly.

  It was obvious someone had been in and out of the shelter on occasions. There were recently published paperbacks and magazines. Cold drinks had been stored in a small working chiller. There were snack foods on the mostly empty shelves.

  “Looks like the wranglers have been using this as a rest stop when their rounding up the cattle,” Hill said. “But there is nothing to indicate anyone might have been held here.”

  I had to agree.

  Even so, Hill placed a call back to the techs and gave them directions to the place so they could check it out. I wasn’t looking forward to the next leg of our journey bouncing across Texas like jumping beans, but climbed back in the truck after helping to flag the shelter’s entrance for the crime scene investigators.

  Varn floored the gas pedal as we left the area for another a mile away. The ranch was much larger than I would have thought, but then what did I know about that kind of thing? I had been told this part of the property was over 200 acres, there was more across the highway.

  Occasionally Varn would suddenly swerve to avoid something only he seemed to notice, causing the vehicle to rock like it was on a stormy sea. About half a mile from the shelter we had just left, we crossed a deeply rutted trail in the center of the open field.

  “Rained a couple months ago. We came out ta’ load some of the cattle. Take ‘em to market. The trailers got stuck for a while and the result was the washboard trail,” he said as the truck jittered across the tracks.

  This time I was sure I had knocked a tooth or two lose. I looked back at the area where the land had been churned by heavy traffic. How many trailers did they need to go to market and why not round up the cattle and take them back to the holding pens they surely had somewhere on this forsaken piece of earth?

  I admit. My curiosity about the actions of the ranch folks was really just a way to keep me from the hope and fear we would find something at the next stop. For all I know the way this place was run, was just like all the other cattle ranches. There was no reason to suspect this man or anyone on this place of being involved in the murders, but I have a suspicious nature. That’s what led me to become an investigator in the first place.

  I relaxed a bit as Hill and our driver carried on a conversation about the challenges of ranching life. Apparently the deputy knew what those challenges were and didn’t appear to be worried about anything I was. I half listened as I watched for signs we were reaching our destination.

  We stopped in what looked like the middle of a field, only a water trough, dirt and grass could be seen. Ernie pointed out the window at a spot that was churned up just as the cattle loading site had been. “No one should have been out this way recently,” he told us. “We ain’t had cattle in this section of the pasture since the rain. Maybe that blasted girl was out here with her friends.”

  “Girl? What girl?” I always had to know the answers.

  “Some girl the boss liked. Used to visit him when he was sick, but she’s got no reason now that he’s dead.”

  “You have a name?” I felt like I was pulling teeth, only the roots were miles long.

  “Don’t know it. Never asked. Didn’t like her. Didn’t want to know her.”

  “Would he have given her the codes to the shelter?” It was nice to have Deputy Hill ask a question. I was beginning to feel like he wasn’t interested in anything related to finding out what had happened out here.

  Varn just shrugged.

  The three of us got out of the pickup and walked over to look at the tracks that had been left. These were smaller. Not as wide as the ones on the semis that had been used to load the cattle. Maybe cars or pickups had been out here.

  Deputy Hill placed another call to the tech team, giving them directions to the site when they had finished at the first, and we proceeded toward the water trough where the access to the bunker was well hidden.

  “This was put in a few years ago before the original owner died. It’s state of the art and big enough to hold a small army. He was sure after nine-eleven there was going to be a major war on American soil. He wasn’t really a survivalist but when he got ill, he became paranoid.”

  The water trough slipped aside when pushed, and a hole in the ground opened up to reveal steps leading down into the ground.

  “There is a locking mechanism on the cover that can be triggered from inside the shelter, but it’s not usually locked up because there are only a few of us who know it’s here.” Varn was just full of useless information.

  “We’ll need a list of
anyone who knew and works here, as well as the information on the company that installed it. We’ll need to talk to them as well,” Deputy Hill said. “I’ll make sure DeMarco gets a copy as well. The Sheriff wants to be sure we cooperate,” he said looking over at me. “I guess he figures DeMarco will share it with you.”

  I admit he was confused about my role, but hadn’t asked me any questions.

  We followed our guide into the shelter. It was huge for a civilian structure. Appeared to be constructed of a number of self-contained pods except for doorways that could be individually locked down. If I hadn’t known better I would have thought I had just entered someone’s home it was that cozy and welcoming. I couldn’t’ imaging how much the place had cost – more than I would have thought a rancher could afford.

  I’m not one to hold back with the questions, something DeMarco hadn’t liked when we first started partnering, but he got over that kind of macho shit fast. “No way could a simple rancher afford a place like this. What are you into here?”

  Varn didn’t say a word, just stared at me as though he had no idea what I was talking about.

  “Mr. Varn, you have worked here a long time, and where here when this bunker was built. It’s not something a single person would build to protect himself or even a dozen people who worked for him. It isn’t convenient to the ranch, since I haven’t seen anything within miles of us expect the shacks and fences.” I glared at Deputy Hill--he should be asking questions or at least trying.

  “Not my place to ask questions.” Varn groused. “I just did what I was told and that was take care of the cattle.”

  Varn spat tobacco juice into a can he held. Disgusting habit. He had done the same in the truck where he’d used the can to collect the nasty spit - it in a holder on his door when not in use so I didn’t have to look at it.

  Hill stepped forward. “Ernie, you can’t tell me you weren’t curious about this. It’s like an underground mansion. I know men like you and you’re smarter than most believe you can be. So what is this? Does the new owner even know about it?”

  “I got no answers for ya’. You want to go back to the road now? I don’t see nothin’ that makes me think our uninvited guest has been around this place.”

  I would have agreed with him, except the place was sparking clean. Not a dust particle had settled anywhere in sight. This place was state of the art, but even the best air exchange picked up particles from clothing, shoes and people and returned it to settle on the surfaces of a room. Someone had been here. Someone who had been very careful not to leave any sign of their presence. Someone who may have been warned we were coming.

  20

  I hadn’t been able to sleep even with DeMarco’s arms wrapped around me. I kept replaying everything over and over until final at 3 a.m. I gave up and went downstairs. There was no doubt in my mind that the ranch in Grayson County was where the snuff film we had, had taken place. I played my copy with the photos from the crime scene laid out in front of my computer. There was one shot that matched the video exactly. The ranch was tied in with the person making those sickening films. It was an easy drive from Oklahoma or Dallas with the ranch in between them.

  I had set up a murder board in Jillie’s room turned office, with pictures, major events and an overview of evidence. Jillie’s murder. Randi’s. The house fire at Trixie’s. The USB drive from the safety deposit box with the video on it. The sudden disappearance of my mother and all her friends and of course the jewelry found on the victims with that special lotus blossom charm.

  DeMarco entered the study carrying a fresh cup of coffee. “I’ve looked at these things” the wave of his hand took in the pictures on my desk and the board, “‘til I’m almost blind. I’m running out of ideas.”

  “Me too,” I told him. “We need to find Eve but I haven’t had any luck. I’ve called everyone I know and they haven’t seen her anywhere. None of this makes sense.”

  “It could if the girl your ranch hand told you about is Eve. Maybe she’s the one who connects to all the pieces. I’ve sent a picture of her to the Sheriff and we should know today if it’s her.”

  “Why do you think Eve would have anything to do with this? Is there something you know you haven’t told me?” I asked.

  “Other than your mother, she is the only person we can’t find. I know our killer has to have a partner and Eve seems to be a good bet. We’re having trouble finding anything on her that’s more than ten years old.”

  I almost rolled my eyes, but decided against it. “A lot of the actors change their names, that doesn’t make them killers.”

  “That could be true but usually there is some record of a name change unless it was done through means that didn’t involve a court . But I want to find her too. I never got the opportunity to talk to her directly and now she’s gone.”

  “Mike, it’s already been four days and the chances of solving this are becoming slimmer by the minute. I’m afraid that if we don’t find something within the next few hours we won’t ever solve all this.”

  “And you’re feeling anxious about Trixie too. I’m surprised you haven’t heard back from the kidnappers. But you have to believe she’ll be alright. She’s in a tough business that requires a lot of skill to survive. She’ll use those to stay alive.”

  The doorbell rang, and I switched the computer to the security screen. George the vile was standing on the doorstep grinning at the camera. I pressed the button to activate the intercom. “How did you get in the gate?” Damn I should have changed the code. “What do you want?” I wanted nothing to do with this slime and my voice made that clear.

  “You said you’d get back to me about the deal I had with Jillie. I ain’t heard from you and I got things I need to attend to and that’s gonna take a few bucks. Open the door Ash. We got business.”

  DeMarco gave me a smile-or maybe I just imagined it, but the look in his eyes told me he couldn’t be happier to see George Kerland, so I guessed George was on the follow-up list with Eve.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I said through the intercom, and flipped the switch so I wouldn’t have to hear his response. “You want to meet with him before I tell him to shove it, or after?”

  “Although it would be fun to watch you tell him where to shove it, I think I’ll let you soften him up a bit. I imagine he won’t be very happy you aren’t buying his story and a man who is angry often reveals more than he would want to. I’ll listen from here then come meet him before he leaves.”

  I took my time getting downstairs dreading opening the door. I had no problem telling the garbage he wasn’t getting anything out of me, I just hated to have to let him in to stink up the house. When I finally opened the front door, he shoved his way in without waiting for an invitation and walked to the living room.

  “So, I need the money Jillie promised me.”

  “I told you I would look into it. I have nothing that indicates you had a business deal with her so, nope. No money for George.”

  “You bitch. I always thought you were different, but you’re just a whore like the rest of them,” George raised his hand to punch me and landed on his butt for the trouble he wanted to make.

  “Not a smart move, George,” I said. “You think I can’t take care of myself? You’re more stupid than I thought.”

  George jumped up and took another swing. I stepped out of his way as he grunted like a wild boar during rutting season. “Really George? You think this is going to make me change my mind? You really are stupid aren’t you?”

  Once again he cocked his arm back ready to let another punch fly.

  “I think I should help your friend out the door,” DeMarco said stepping into the room. “That is after we have a little talk about Jillie.” Mike didn’t wait for George to react, instead he reached out, grabbed George’s fist, giving it a twist. I couldn’t help the smile his scream of pain brought to my face.

  “Mike, I really wanted to do that myself. You could have waited just another minute.�
� I used my best fake pout to emphasize my disappointment. Tightening his grip DeMarco forced George’s arm behind his back, pushed him against the wall, and handcuffed George’s wrist.

  George collapsed like a wet rag, sinking to his knees. “Why you doin’ this?”

  I could tell he was attempting to sound confused, but his face was twisted in rage. “George you are one of the worst actors ever. No wonder you never made it to the screen. You do not walk into my home and start throwing punches under any circumstances. But now that you’ve thought about your misguided reaction, we have a few questions for you.”

  “I already talked to the cops,” George whined, looking at DeMarco. “I don’t know nothin’ that can help you.”

  ‘Do you know where Eve is,” I asked. I don’t think he expected me to mention her because he began to nod, then caught himself and frantically shook his head no.

  “George, you’re lying, you need to be straight with us.”

  ‘I ain’t lyin’ she was around for a couple days now she’s gone off somewhere and I don’t know where that is. It’s not like she tells me her business.”

  “So tell me about this business you and Jillie were going to do. What was it and why was she interested?”

  “She wasn’t,” he admitted, his eyes moving down to the floor. I thought if I tole you that you’d believe me. After all Jill and I have been friends a long time and she was always about helpin’ others.

  DeMarco’s hand fisted but he held back on taking a swing at the low-life. “So you figured if Ashley didn’t volunteer to give you money, you’d knock her around to change her mind?

  “Somethin’ like that, but I forgot she knows all that self-defending stuff. But I really don’t know where Eve went,” he cringed as Michael took a step forward. ’Well maybe. Maybe I got an idea. “

  DeMarco took another step forward and George threw his arm up over his head to block the blow he deserved but never received.”

  “So you might know where she went?” I wanted to slap the guy silly he was such a cowardly piece of garbage. “So spill it George before I kick your teeth to Canada.”