Where was his phone? Panic overtook him as he felt through his clothes and his overcoat, finding nothing. Then it hit him. He had left his cellphone in his suit coat which he now realized was hanging over his chair inside his locked office. He had taken off his suit coat fearing he might get some of Stevie’s blood on it when he tossed him out the window. It was a five-hundred dollar suit and it would be awkward explaining to the dry cleaner how blood got on his jacket.
Glenn strained to think of his next move as whatever was on the other side began beating on the door. The old wooden door facing was starting to give way from the power of the blows coming from outside. The door wouldn’t hold up indefinitely.
The mayor pressed his weight back against the door hoping to buy a little more time while he considered his limited options. He also hoped, while doing so, the scythe wouldn’t come slicing through the door and subsequently through him. He had been fortunate to make it to the safety of the conference room but in doing so he had entered one of the few rooms in city hall without a phone.
He, in his power as mayor, had removed the phones from the meeting room last year, tired of meetings being interrupted by the ringing of the land line. It was bad enough cellphones would constantly interrupt important city meetings without the regular phone intruding on important matters. As such, he banned both cellphones and land lines inside the meeting room. Whatever it was could wait until the meeting was over. What a stupid decision.
Glenn looked around the room as the pounding from the other side of the door echoed through his head like a neverending nightmare. What could he do? Where could he go? Then it dawned on him. He was looking right at it. The window!
He could crawl out the window and climb onto the thin ledge. From there he could make his way back over to his office where there was a pair of phones. He could call for help, that is, if he didn’t tumble from the third story onto the concrete below. He could still hear the sound of Stevie’s lifeless body slamming onto the sidewalk with a thud.
Glenn knew that while it wasn’t a great option, it was his only option if he wanted to live. He couldn’t hold off the thing forever. He had to go now.
Glenn shot across the dark room straight for the window as the thing kept beating on the door. His progress was slowed as he tried to thrust open the window. It was stuck!
“No! You can’t be stuck!” Glenn pleaded as he pulled with all his might on the window.
Meanwhile the pounding on the door became even louder. He could hear the wood on the door start to splinter.
“Come on, open!” Glenn pleaded.
The window crashed open as the mayor gave it one last tug. A rush of freezing wind slapped him in the face.
“Here goes nothing,” Glenn said to himself as he climbed out the window and onto the small concrete ledge.
Glenn forced himself to slide along the ledge, scooting his feet an inch at a time as the wind whistled through his ears. The concrete ledge was only about the size of his foot and left little room for error. He feared if he didn’t put distance between himself and the open window the Reaper’s hands would extend out the window and pull him back into the room or push him off the ledge. He could still hear the beating on the door as he inched his way along the concrete. He tried not to look down while the chilling wind buffeted his body. He would be lucky if he weren’t swept off the ledge by the wind before he reached his office window.
“Take your time, Glenn, take your time,” he encouraged himself as he accidentally looked down.
The mayor was careful to keep himself pressed up as closely as he could to the cold brick on the side of city hall. He knew any lean forward could be his last move. If he could reach the recess in the brick near his window he would have more room.
“Almost there,” Glenn continued encouraging himself.
He looked at his destination from the corner of his eye. He was afraid to turn his head out of fear of losing his balance. Instead he tried to keep his eyes on the horizon and his back pressed firmly against the wall.
Then his outstretched right hand found the recess in the brick, telling him he had reached his window. He cupped his hand on the recess, helping pull himself over to the glass. The recess was not quite tall enough where he could stand straight up inside it.
His five minutes of work slowly inching his way to his window now found him faced with two questions. First, was his window locked? And second, why had the pounding stopped at the conference room door? In his concentration during his high wire act over downtown Easton, the absence of the pounding hadn’t registered. Had the thing finally busted through the door or worse, had it gone next door? Was it in his office waiting in the dark for him?
He didn’t have a choice. He would have to take his chances inside. He hadn’t seen a single person or vehicle pass the whole time he was on the ledge and, given the snow and cold, it was unlikely anyone would just happen along. His choices were either to stay up on the ledge and freeze to death, fall off the ledge perhaps to his death or climb into his office and perhaps fall victim to the dark man. He would choose door number three.
Glenn got a quick answer to his first question, as much to his dismay the window was locked. He would have to break it open but in doing so would have to carefully swing his heel to avoid losing his balance. The fact his entire body was going numb would make it even more dangerous.
His first attempt at smashing the window failed. The shatter resistant glass resisted his attempt at breaking and entering. They had replaced the windows at city hall last year to rebuff a gang of BB gun bandits who had been shooting out windows around town. The glass was the only new thing about the building.
He realized his pounding on the glass would likely alert the thing inside to his plans. He would only have a couple of more attempts before it would try to get in his office, that is, if it weren’t already lurking inside.
Glenn took a deep gulp of the cold air as he cocked his foot and prepared to make another attempt.
“What are you doing up there?” Bart’s voice called up from the sidewalk.
The sound of Bart's voice from below almost caused Glenn to lose his balance. He hadn't seen him approach from the shadows.
“It’s in there!” Glenn hissed down, again flattening himself against the brick.
“What’s in there?” Bart replied as he was obviously taken back by seeing the mayor tiptoeing thirty feet above the sidewalk.
“The killer - he’s inside,” Glenn responded in a loud whisper. “He’s after me!”
“Stay where you are. I’ll be right up,” Bart shouted from the sidewalk as he pulled a gun from under his coat.
His rescue mission was short-lived, however as he returned to the sidewalk seconds later.
“The door’s locked,” Bart yelled back up.
Glenn slowly fished the keys out of his pocket careful to make no sudden movements.
“Here, it’s the round one,” Glenn announced as he tossed the key ring down.
Bart snatched the key out of the air as it fell. However, even as he prepared to enter the building, he wondered why the door was locked. Would the killer take the time to lockup behind him if he were in the building? Something didn't make sense.
Glenn tried to think happy thoughts as he heard the front door close indicating Bart had entered city hall. Would he hear a gunshot if Bart found whatever it was or would that thing, that dark man, ambush Bart and come back up to finish him? Would there be a point where Glenn would have to choose between taking a leap of faith onto the sidewalk below or fighting off the Reaper?
The mayor rested his head against the brick, keeping his eyes fixed on the building across the street. He could see the pulsing lights atop the city’s water tower just on the other side of the small-town skyline. He watched, counting the flashes, trying to take his mind off of the fact he could die at any moment. Where was Bart? Was he already dead?
His question was answered as his office window flew up without warning and a hand exten
ded out grasping his arm in its steely grip.
“Get in here,” Bart said as he pulled him through the open window.
The mayor looked wild eyed as he scanned the room, looking for any sign of the dark man.
“Where’s he at?” Glenn asked nervously. “Did you find him?”
Bart slammed the window down, closing out the cold as he gave his friend a glare.
“There’s no one here …there’s nothing,” Bart declared. “Look around. We’re the only ones here.”
“But he was out there,” Glenn insisted. “He came at me from down the hall and I snapped my key off in the door trying to get back in.”
Bart calmly walked to the mayor’s office door and inspected it.
“You mean this door?” Bart asked. “Your office door was unlocked, Glenn.”
Glenn rushed over to the door and examined it closely but found no evidence of the key he had broken off in the lock just minutes before.
“That’s impossible,” Glenn declared.
The mayor could feel Bart’s eyes upon him, a look of doubt in his gaze.
“I didn’t dream it up,” Glenn insisted as Bart continued giving him the odd look. “I’m telling you it was after me. I’m not crazy.”
“What was after you?” Bart asked as he put his gun back into his shoulder holster.
“The Grim Reaper - the dark man - something,” Glenn responded, the words already sounding unbelievable before he got them out. “I mean he was all in black and he had one of those sickle things. He tried to cut me to pieces I tell you. Don’t look at me like that. I know what I saw!”
Glenn knew Bart didn’t believe his tale given the look on his face.
“Tell you what, Glenn, it’s been a long night,” Bart began in a patronizing tone. “Let’s go home and I’m sure things will look different in the light of day.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Glenn said incredulously. “I know what I saw. It was here. Why do you think I’d crawl out on that ledge? I’m scared of heights for crying out loud.”
Bart looked Glenn in the eye, realizing his friend may be going off the deep end given the pressures of the day.
“I’m sure you thought you saw something,” Bart began. “But the bottom line is the door to city hall was locked, your door was unlocked and there’s no key broke off inside it. Let’s just go home and get some rest then you can tell me everything again in the morning.”
Glenn ground his teeth in frustration, knowing Bart doubted his story.
“Let’s go then,” Glenn growled, snatching his suit coat off the back of his chair.
“By the way, I need a lift,” Bart continued. “My ride dropped me off here and it’s a little cold for a walk this time of night.”
“How’d it go?” Glenn asked.
He'd forgotten all about their mission amid all the excitement of running for his life.
“He’s laid to rest,” Bart quipped.
“What about our other problem?” the mayor shot back
“Not a problem,” Bart responded with a sneer. “I killed two birds with one stone. Let’s go get some sleep.”
UP FROM THE DEEP
John Bray was a man of his word. His crew put in at Floating Mill at the crack of dawn before taking the short boat ride over to Hurricane Bridge. They were already conducting their first sweep of the black water below the span when Sam arrived following a short cat nap on his office couch.
“There, you happy?” John Bray asked, walking alongside the sheriff who leaned over the side of Hurricane Bridge to watch the squad members below.
Sam sipped his morning coffee as he watched the search effort. He was keeping his fingers crossed they would be able to find something. However, knowing the reputation of Castle Lake, the sheriff knew the odds were against them finding the blue sedan beneath the depths.
“I’d be happier if they found something,” Sam admitted.
Bray was a veteran of many search and recovery operations around Hurricane Bridge. His crew was usually called upon to find the bodies of unfortunate swimmers and divers who went missing on the lake. However, in this case, their focus was an automobile. The fact it was larger than a body would make it easier to find but even if they did, raising it would be another matter.
“Well even if we find something there are no assurances we’ll be able to bring it up,” Bray admitted. “If your car is out past fifty yards from the bank then it’s likely went down into the Bottomless Pit and there’s no way we can pull it up with the equipment we’ve got. You’d need a major crane and we won’t be able to get one of those in here until the first of the week.”
Sam wasn't daunted by Bray’s assessment of the situation as he figured it was time for him to catch a break.
“What if it didn’t go into the Pit?” Sam questioned.
“’There’s a rock shelf near the bank which only goes down about thirty feet,” Bray answered. “If your car is on that and didn’t go over in the Pit then there’s a good chance we can use a heavy duty tow truck to wench it out. But that’s a big if. We’d have to be awfully lucky.”
“Hey chief, we got something,” the voice of one of the squad members sounded over Bray’s radio. “We have it on the remote underwater camera here. It looks to be a car.”
Bray was obviously surprised by the find as he assumed a vehicle with any momentum would have made it to the Pit. He didn’t realize the car was barely creeping along when it plunged off the cliff.
“Is it on the shelf?” Bray called back.
“Yes but just barely,” the searcher responded. “We need to get a diver and a hook in here pretty quick or the current may pull it down into the Pit.”
“Okay, I’ve got the wench,” Bray began. “Now, what idiot are we going to get to go down there in that cold water and hook it up so we can pull it out?”
Sam gave Bray a smile. He had come ready for such an eventuality.
“Eight-seventeen, this is eight hundred,” Sam spoke into his radio. “I need you to come on out here and bring your cold water gear. We found it.”
“Ten-four sheriff,” replied the officer on the other end. “You’ll owe me a big one this time.”
“We’ll work something out, officer,” Sam replied. “Just get on out here and dress warm.”
Thirty minutes later an SUV with flashing lights sped up to the scene. Bo hopped out from the driver’s side and walked to the passenger door, opening it for his passenger. Being a country boy, he still believed in chivalry.
“Hey gorgeous. What took you so long?” Sam asked as he extended his hand to help his wife out of the vehicle.
Carly was already dressed in her driving gear when she arrived. The skin-tight suit, while covering her from head-to-toe, would do little to cut the chill of the frigid lake. Her time in the water would be limited.
“You better shut your mouth or I’ll make you put this thing on,” the sheriff’s wife replied as she went to the back seat to lug her SCUBA gear out.
Mrs. Delaney was not only the brains of the operation at Castle County Sheriff Department but she was also one of the best divers in the county. She learned her craft back in college and continued her education in advanced diving after graduation. Sam didn’t like what he referred to as “big water”. He opted to stay on the boat when his wife would go diving on their vacations to the beach each year. The sheriff often quipped it was too difficult to drink a beer underwater, explaining why he would stay on the boat with a fishing rod while she was swimming with the sharks.
“Okay, Mrs. Delaney,” Bray began in a patronizing tone as he and the sheriff carried the heavy gear down the treacherous path to the water. “When you get under there you need to …”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to attach the hook to the frame on both sides and loop it over so it doesn’t slip,” she interrupted. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”
Bray was somewhat taken back by being preempted by a woman given he was from a discipline dominated by men.
“Okay, well, it’s pretty dark down there so you’ll need to …” Bray began only to be interrupted again.
“Yeah, yeah. Follow the underwater camera cable down to it,” Carly said. “You boys just make sure you know how to work the wench.”
All Sam could do was laugh as Bray shot him a puzzled look.
“She’ll eat you whole and spit out the bones,” Sam warned. “Just stay out of her way and you’ll be fine. You do know how to work the wench ... right?”
The recovery base was set up about thirty yards from the dive. It was the only flat place on the bank where the wrecker could park at the bottom of the hilly terrain.
Ten minutes later Carly was in the water, making her way down the cable to the submerged car. Sam would owe her a big one given the fact the mercury was still in the twenties meaning the water temperature was, well, very cold. The hook-up itself took far less time than it did just getting into the water as Carly surfaced five minutes later and gave them a thumbs up.
Sam was chilled just extending his hand to help his wife onto shore. He could only imagine how frigid it was to be completely under the freezing water even with a winter dive suit.
“Was it cold down there?” Bray asked in what had to be the dumbest question Sam had heard in a long time.
Carly shook her head in disbelief as she removed her mask. She pretended she didn’t hear the squad director’s question. There was simply no response to such an ignorant statement.
“Get me somewhere warm,” Carly demanded as Bo threw a parka over her shoulders.
“Get in the cab of the tow truck,” Sam suggested. “It should be toasty in there. We left the heat running for you.”
The tow truck operator wasted no time starting the wench. The cable strained against the weight of the automobile. A full minute elapsed as the cable hauled the car up from the depths, the trunk finally breaking the surface. It was a blue sedan!
“Bingo,” Sam exclaimed as he slapped Bray on the back. “Good work.”
Two minutes later the car was on shore. Water poured out from its open windows quickly revealing no one was in the passenger compartment.
Red Dog Saloon Page 15