Murderous Intent and Deadly Desires

by Angela C. Blackmoore

  Lanie turned, thinking hard but Reggie nodded confidently. “Yeah, he did say that.”

  Abby recalled the day when the bikers had tried to get to Frank. It was only through the good luck of John Troutdale, Reggie, and Brian showing up at the sheriff’s office right before the bikers descended on them that they’d had the manpower to hold off the bikers. During the conflict, Wallace Jones, the apparent leader of the biker gang, had threatened them all with his crazy girlfriend and her knives.

  “Did you say Bakes?” Ivan said, leaning over his table. “I think…yeah, that sounds like the name of the woman that the guy bought the knives for. I remember because it was such an odd name, but I just figured it was a nickname. Also, she was about the craziest person I’d ever met. Scared me to death.”

  Lanie looked at Ivan, then turned to them wide-eyed. “We never did catch them. I figured they’d taken off out-of-state, but I never figured they’d stay. Why would they stay?”

  “Senator Clark,” all three of them said, almost in tandem.

  Quickly, Lanie reached over and hugged Ivan who blushed profusely before Lanie detatched herself and headed for the exit of the huge building. “Come on! I’ve got to call the sheriff.”

  Chapter 23

  Reggie’s Jeep Wrangler raced back to town, quickly transitioning from the urban sprawl of Salem to the forested roads that led to Red Pine Falls. Lanie was talking into her phone at a mile a minute, explaining what they’d found out at the knife and gun show. Abby was clutching the handholds attached to the roll cage in the back seat and was glad that Cheerio hadn’t come along with them.

  Lanie had asked Reggie to hurry, but from the wide-eyed look on her face as she spoke to the sheriff, she hadn’t anticipated how much Reggie would follow her request. It was clear he wasn’t going the jeep’s fastest speed, but he was taking the turns pretty fast though the tires were handling the rain and slickness with ease.

  “That’s right, Sheriff,” Lanie said. “Bakes and Wallace from the Sun Riders bike gang. They never left the state. That’s why no one saw them on those road blocks you requested.” Lanie stopped to listen to something the sheriff said, grimacing for a moment before responding. “Yes, that or the state troopers never bothered to set them up. That last one is probably what happened. They’ve been hiding out in the hills for a while.”

  She went silent again, listening to whatever the sheriff was saying. Abby was focusing intently on Lanie though she could only hear a faint voice from her phone. There was no way to hear what the sheriff was saying, but she suspected he was giving Lanie instructions.

  After a few more moments of nodding, Lanie spoke. “We’ll be back in about fifteen or twenty minutes. We just left Salem,” Lanie said, then paused before continuing. “I think they’re hiding out in the woods, somewhere. We should probably start coordinating with Gabe. I know the knife in the deer is really flimsy, but it’s just too coincidental. Besides, he thought the poachers might be getting around on motorcycles. That would completely fit.”

  The sheriff spoke for a few minutes more, but when Lanie got off the phone, she looked pleased. “He’s going to call Gabe and start helping the rangers look for the poachers. I think he’s also going to try to get the state troopers and his sheriff buddies from Yamhill and Tillamook, as well. We’ll need manpower to search the forests, and we can’t use civilians.

  Abby frowned, thinking about the fiasco the last time the state troopers had come to town. It had not been pleasant, and she thought of them only a sliver less badly than Detectives Mike and Ed. At least when they’d been pointing their guns at Abby and the sheriff, some of them had looked like they hadn’t wanted to be there. “So what is the next step?” Abby said.

  “Now we do our job,” Lanie said, turning to face Abby from the passenger seat. “We find Wallace and Bakes, and then we get them to talk. It’s not going to be easy to find them, but we have no choice.”

  Abby nodded, suddenly realizing that her ability to help was at an end, and that her boyfriend was going to be once more in the thick of things. She took a deep breath, then blew it out. Things were progressing. They had identified who the likely killer of Don Buckshire was, and also who had attacked the mayor, as well as who had been stalking Abby. Most of it made sense, except for the part where Detectives Mike and Ed had been instructed to help. That still baffled Abby. If Wallace and Bakes were working for the senator, why would he have his cronies try to help find the two bikers?

  She was rolling the idea over and over in her mind, focusing intently on it when she heard the roar of a powerful engine from right behind them. Reggie cursed loudly, looking over his shoulder at the dark-blue vehicle that seemed to be trying to pass them but then there was a massive crunching sound as the truck pushed in toward them, slamming its heavy fender just in front of where the Jeep’s left rear tire was.

  Suddenly, they were spinning crazily, the metal and plastic of the Jeep screaming in protest. Abby couldn’t focus as the world turned into a blur, her voice rising in a panicked cry as they careened off the road and down an embankment. Branches and pine-needles whipped past them before a tree rushed up, slamming into the front right side of the jeep and sending them into a barrel roll.

  Abby’s mind couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. Lanie and Reggie were in front of her, bouncing up and down in their seats as the jeep rolled. Abby mulled over the seatbelts, wondering at how they could withstand the abuse in a moment of detached lucidity before the hard-top of the jeep was ripped away, part of it slamming into her head as it sprang free. A moment later, Abby fell into a seething, pain-filled darkness.

  Chapter 24

  Abby awoke with a start, her head screaming in pain and her left shoulder wet. The smell of the forest was strong, and she had to blink a few times to make sense of what she was seeing. Why was the ground so close to her face? And that’s when she remembered the wild, dangerous descent off the highway and down the forested embankment. They’d thrashed through the underbrush before being knocked sideways, causing the car to roll and the hard top to tear off.

  Apparently the jeep had come to a rest on the side where Abby was sitting. Her arm and shoulder were pressed down against the damp leaves, pine needles, and earth that had been churned up while the vehicle came to a halt. The seatbelt still held her, pushing painfully against her shoulder as she lifted her head and looked around.

  Reggie and Lanie were both there, also still held by their seatbelts but neither were moving. Abby paused, terror flowing through her as she stared at them both, but after a moment she could see them breathing.

  But she also heard something that made her blood run cold.

  “Bakes, dang it, wait up!” said a deep, male voice, one she recognized as belonging to Wallace Jones. The man’s gravelly voice was raised in anger. “They’re not going anywhere. Probably dead, after that crash.”

  “I want to make sure!” came another voice, higher pitched and slightly shrill. She could also hear someone scrabbling down the embankment and pictured Bakes’ feral grin as she anticipated what she would find.

  Abby began to panic. She didn’t want to be trapped in the car when they got to the bottom so she pulled at the seatbelt, jerking and grunting desperately. She couldn’t see Wallace or Bakes since the bed of the jeep faced the road. Finally, she calmed herself and decided to try the seat belt release. Flicking her finger against the bright orange plastic, she was ecstatic when the latch clicked, and she fell free of the belt.

  Pushing forward along the roll bars, she looked at Lanie and Reggie. Both of them were banged up and bleeding from several scrapes. Reggie had blood oozing out of his nose, too, but she knew she didn’t have enough time to check them out.

  The sliding footsteps were getting closer.

  Suddenly, she heard a yelp and a crash, followed by a female voice cursing up a storm.

  “Told you!” Wallace said from farther up the hill. “Dammit, Bakes, are you all right?”

  “I’m okay!�
� Bakes said angrily. “Stupid blackberry bushes! Help get me out of here!”

  “I’m coming,” Wallace said, his voice sounding amused, followed quickly by an angry growl from Bakes.

  Abby knew she didn’t have a lot of time, so she quickly scrabbled out from the top of the jeep through the roll bars. As she stepped with her right foot, she winced and looked down at a gash in her right thigh. It hurt and was bleeding, but the leg was able to take her weight.

  She took a few steps deeper into the forest, looking back just in time to see Wallace reach Bakes who was struggling to get out of a flattened blackberry bush. It looked like the big man had a gash above his eye that was bleeding down his face, but otherwise he didn’t look hurt as he pulled Bakes out of the bush.

  Several of the thorns had hooked around Bakes' pants. Coupled with the steep incline and wetness, it had made it almost impossible for the woman to extract herself. Abby began to turn, hoping to slip off into the forest when Bakes’ head rose and her eyes locked on Abby.

  “Wallace! There!” Bakes screamed, pointing madly with her free hand. The movement almost overbalanced the big biker, but he braced himself and turned to look. His amusement quickly turned to a grim, cold look that sent a shiver down Abby’s spine.

  Turning, Abby began limping into the forest as fast as she could. Her thigh hurt as did her head, but she was sure that if the two bikers caught her, that would be the least of her worries.

  “Come on back, Abby!” called Bakes in a sing-song voice. “We just want to play!”

  “Shut it, Bakes!” Wallace growled, his voice growing fainter as Abby began to run. “Come on, let’s get her and get this over with.”

  Abby gritted her teeth, letting the fear push the pain in her body down as she moved into a ground eating lope. She couldn’t run full speed. It hurt too much for that, but she was able to swing her injured leg well enough that she almost managed a jog. She hoped that between that and the time it would take Wallace and Bakes to get to the bottom of the incline, she would be able to outpace them and lose them in the deepening gloom of the forest.

  Still, faster than she wished, she could hear the two bikers running after her. Bakes kept up a constant chatter of insults and catcalls that ranged from poignantly descriptive to outright insane. Each threat drove Abby’s terror deeper and deeper, making her shake in fear though it did help her to pinpoint how close they were.

  They were gaining slowly, but they were gaining.

  Abby tried to move quietly, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t avoid the copious branches, leaves, and other undergrowth. Once she was even tripped up by a stray blackberry vine, making Abby curse loudly when she went face down.

  “Ha, ha! Not so fun, is it!” Bakes called from somewhere behind Abby, clearly having heard her fall. “You might as well give up, princess! We’re going to get you. The question is, how long am I going to take to kill you and how painful will it be? If you stop now, I promise I’ll make it quick!”

  Abby grunted, pushing herself up and started hobble-running once again, but what Bakes had said just oozed into her thoughts. Quick and painless. A tiny part of her mind pointed out that it might not be that bad, but Abby ruthlessly pushed it down.

  “Shut up!” she screamed in anger, almost as much to herself as at Bakes. She regretted it almost immediately.

  “She’s over there!” Wallace said, closer than Bakes’ voice had been followed by renewed thrashing sounds as they both headed toward where her voice had been.

  Suddenly, Abby saw something in a small clearing ahead of her. It looked like a building! She ran for it as fast as she could, panting and in pain. When she saw it, her hopes fell as she noted its dilapidated condition. It wasn’t a building so much as some abandoned storage shed, but it was her only hope. Maybe she could find something to defend herself.

  Dodging quickly around the corner, she headed for the door and yanked on it, praying that it would be open. When it swung outward in her hands, Abby almost crowed with relief as she dove inside, slamming the door and quickly turning the lock.

  With a click, she backed away, not having registered much of what was behind her. She was fully focused on the door. Wallace and Bakes had arrived on the other side of it. Wallace had arrived first, leaning against the door and shaking it as he tried to open it. A few moments later, Bakes came up breathing and cursing at having been made to run.

  Abby began looking around, shaking from the fear and adrenaline. It was mostly empty besides an old chair and table that were covered with layers of dust and grime. A few sticks were scattered about, so she picked up one of them, holding it like a samurai sword in front of her. There was not another exit. She was trapped, and she knew that the door wouldn’t hold Wallace and Bakes for long.

  As if on cue, the door thundered from a kick, then another, and on the third it shot open framing Wallace in the door. His overgrown, scraggly beard couldn’t contain his dirty grin, but a moment later Bakes slid in beside him. Abby didn’t know what scared her more. The huge, threatening form of Wallace, or the insane grin of Bakes as she pulled out a knife that resembled almost exactly the one that had been pulled out of Don Buckshire’s back.

  “Oh, jackrabbits,” Abby breathed in terror.

  Chapter 25

  “Come on, can’t I just cut a finger off?” Bakes pleaded, clutching at Wallace’s black leather jacket even as she gave Abby an almost hungry look. Abby couldn’t keep her eyes off of the woman. Her face was long and horsey with a pronounced overbite. Coupled with the dirt and grime of having been camping outside for many weeks, Abby couldn’t even tell what Bakes’ complexion was, but it was her crazy eyes she couldn’t look away from.

  “No!” Wallace thundered, spinning on Bakes and raising his hand. Bakes dropped the knife she’d been holding, throwing her hands up over her head and flinching. Wallace didn’t complete the strike, but it was clear this was the exception by the way the woman acted. “Let me think, woman! Letting you go scout around the gym was what got us into this mess. We should have made sure the town hall was over. Now shut up.”

  Bakes maintained her defensive posture for many long moments after Wallace walked away. It was clear she had expected a hit and usually got it. Abby struggled to feel sorry for her but failed. The woman was insane and had been taunting Abby between bouts of trying to convince Wallace to let her do what she wanted with Abby.

  After they had grabbed Abby and tied her to the chair with some stray cord they’d found in the shed, they’d been going at it like this for half-an-hour while Wallace tried to call someone on his cell phone, but to no avail. He hadn’t left any messages, but he kept trying nonetheless.

  After a few moments, Bakes shifted and her eyes once again fell on Abby even as Bakes kept her arms up over her head. It was creepy, being watched from the folds of the dirty woman’s leather jacket. Abby could only see the cold flicker against the moisture of her eyes until finally Bakes uncoiled and smiled at her as if she hadn’t been cowering in fear a few moments ago.

  “How’d you like me to cut a finger off?” she said, sidling up to Abby and caressing her shoulders as she moved in behind her. She began to give Abby a massage, gently kneading her muscles as she leaned down and whispered into her ear. “I’d do it quickly. You wouldn’t feel anything for a moment, except I’d let you watch. You’d scream, expecting to feel something but it wouldn’t happen. It would feel like a fingernail sliding against your skin at first. The pain would come later, but that’s not what would really hurt. What would really hurt is knowing your finger was gone forever. You’d never see it again. I’d leave it on the floor and let some rat get it to go feed his little rat kids. How would you like that?”

  Abby closed her eyes and tried to tune Bakes out, but it was impossible. Tears slid down Abby’s face as she gritted her teeth trying to think, but what could she do? She watched shows where someone was tied up, but they were always too calm and collected. They were always mouthing off at their captors. Abby didn�
��t feel at all like antagonizing these people. She just wanted to close her eyes and make it all go away.

  Finally Bakes grunted, pushing away from Abby and walking over to where Wallace was leaning his fists against the table. He was frowning deeply and looking at his phone, clearly undecided as to what to do.

  “Wally, we ran them off the road expecting them to die. Why are you changing your mind?” Bakes purred as she caressed his arm.

  “Because I’m not so sure that was a good idea,” Wallace said, still staring at the phone. “I can’t get a hold of him. I thought that’s maybe what he wanted, but he never asked us to go after the Morgans. Maybe there’s a reason.”

  “Pfft,” Bakes said, leaning her head against his shoulder as if listening to a door. “You’ve heard him rant about the Morgans. You know he hates them. We can’t get to the mayor now, so what better prezzie could we give him? He’s got to like our gift, Wally. It will be okay.”

  Wallace just shook his head and didn’t answer. Abby’s headache continued to get worse, thrumming and slamming against her skull. She was worried she had a concussion, but didn’t know what, if anything, she could do about it. Her mind kept trying to reach for what Wallace and Bakes were saying, but her thoughts kept sliding off like they were on wet river rocks.

  Abby concentrated harder. What had they said? Something about a gym? And a town hall being over? Why did a town hall sound so familiar? She pushed against the fog in her brain until finally an image of Don Buckshire falling through the doors with a knife in his back wavered and then firmed before her mind’s eye.

  “Why did you kill Mr. Buckshire?” a voice rasped out. Abby didn’t recognize it at first, but suddenly she realized it was hers. It sounded tired and fatigued, and the question was ludicrous. She shouldn’t be asking these killers questions about murders. She should be pleading for her life, but the words seemed to come out of her mouth on their own.