Eyes of the Predator (27 page)

The information only corroborated
what they already knew, but George assured Vernon that he would be enroute to
the Pickham County jail that very evening, and would stay there in protective
custody until they could arrange transport for him to his sister’s place in
Valdosta. For the first time since the arrival of Bob Shaklee and George Mackey
at the StarLite Motel, Vernon relaxed. In fact, he all but collapsed in the
back of George’s pickup. Peeking out of the side window, he could see that the
crowd milling around outside of Pete’s Place had grown.

“Hey, deputy,” he called through
the cracked window. “Got a smoke?”

“Sorry, Vernon. I got a chew. You
can have some if you want, but you can’t spit in the truck.”

At that moment, Ronnie Kupman
stepped forward and pulled a smoke from his pack of Marlboros, opened the door,
and handed it to Vernon, pulling out a lighter at the same time. Vernon leaned
forward, sucked the flame into the cigarette, and then sank contentedly back
into the seat.

“Damn, Ronnie. He’s gonna smoke
my truck up now,” George commented on Ronnie’s act of compassion.

Kupman looked unsympathetically
at the tobacco juice streaks down the side of George’s truck. Changing the
subject, he said, “You’ve had a busy day George.”

“Yeah, we had some luck.”

“Luck maybe, but good police
work.”

Sheriff Klineman, who had watched
the interview with Vernon Taft, and who had been restrained from interfering by
Ronnie Kupman, walked up and spoke to Bob Shaklee, completely ignoring his
deputy.

“Great work, Agent Shaklee. Seems
our murderer is not from Pickham County or Georgia after all. What else do we
know that can pin him down?”

“Well, by ‘pin him down’, do you
mean apprehend the murderer, or make sure that he is not in any way associated
with Pickham County?”

The sheriff reddened, something
that was becoming a common occurrence. “I don’t appreciate your tone or the
implication that I may not have the best interests of the public at heart. I am
deeply concerned about ensuring the safety of the public here in Pickham
County. To think otherwise would be a slander to my office and, frankly, to me
personally. Is that your intent?” It appeared that Sheriff Klineman was a bit
testy and had had a long day as well.

“Not at all Sheriff. May I
suggest that we go back to your office and review the cases? We have made
progress, but there is work to do, and we need some rest. We’ve been working
this since the Sims murder last night and everyone is tired.”

“Agreed,” Klineman replied and
then turned to George. “Deputy Mackey, you are relieved. We have covered your
shift tonight. Take tomorrow off.”

“Excuse me Sheriff,” Shaklee
interjected. “Deputy Mackey has been instrumental in furthering the
investigation today. It would be appropriate to have him assist in the debrief
to you and Chief Deputy Kupman.”

“Not necessary, not necessary at
all, Shaklee. Deputy Mackey has been a big help, and we appreciate that, but we
trust that you will be able to brief us fully on the investigation.” He turned
to George. “Mackey, you are relieved.”

George shrugged and turned away,
then seeing a nervous Vernon Taft in the back of his pickup said, “Sheriff, mind
if I take Vernon here to the jail on the way home? We need to make arrangements
to transport him to his sister’s place in Valdosta.”

Klineman turned, deeply
annoyed.”Why would we do that deputy?

“Because we promised him we
would,” Shaklee interjected. “And because if we don’t, you may well be working
another murder here in Roydon.” He jerked his head towards the crowd across the
street.

Klineman turned, eyeing the crowd
in the lot at Pete’s Place. He would definitely have to clean that place up at
some point, he thought. “Fine then. Mackey, transport your witness to the jail
and place him in protective custody. After that, you are relieved. We will
arrange transport tomorrow.”

George turned towards his truck
without a word of acknowledgement.

“Meet me at my office as soon as
you are done here, Shaklee,” Klineman said, turning towards Timmy Farrin who
was waiting patiently by his van, recorder in hand.

“What a prick.”

A look of mild surprise on his
face, Ronnie Kupman turned towards Bob Shaklee. Shaklee, for his part, wished
he could recall the three words he had just spoken. Klineman’s self-centered
arrogance had managed to crack his professional veneer. It was an uncomfortable
realization to Shaklee, who worked hard at being a true law enforcement professional,
above the pettiness and politics. The chagrin was etched into the expression on
his face.

Chief Deputy Kupman nodded in
understanding and simply said, “Yep.” Then he turned and followed his sheriff.

George Mackey neither heard, nor
saw any of this. He simply pulled his truck from the lot of the StarLite Motel
heading back to I-95 and the jail in Everett. In the back seat, Vernon Taft
laid down trying to make himself invisible to the crowd in front of Pete’s
Place. He felt as though they could see him through the sides of the truck.

Big Leon ambled across the lot to
his rig and climbed up. Lylee Torkman watched from the side of the truck wash
building at the other end of the fuel pumps. He leaned against the brick wall,
puffing one of his generic no-name cigarettes.

Even at a distance, it was clear
that the big man was concerned for the girl. Well, he should be, Lylee thought.
A momentary surge of adrenalin gave him a visceral thrill. He had watched from
a distance as the girl had used the cell phone that the big truck driver had
handed to her. Lylee had stayed away from the truck stop’s main building. He
had already carelessly exposed himself too much on this runaround and had no
intention of meeting the police officer that the truckers had summoned. It was
time to regroup, to shake off the two careless mistakes he had made that day,
and make sure there were no others. He thought carefully, formulating his plan.
The intervention of the two truckers had saved the girl, for the time being. But
their meddling in his confrontation with Henry only made his appetite for the
girl grow into a raging, undeniable need. He would have her.

When the officer left without the
girl, another plan began coming together. The two truckers would leave, sooner or
later, and the girl would be alone. He would be ready.

Lyn had watched quietly from
inside the store as Leon and Bob walked to their rigs. The tractors rumbled to
life and belched exhaust from their stacks and then slowly moved out of the
lot, Bob first, then Leon.

Loneliness settled heavily on her
narrow shoulders. Standing just inside the front door of the truck stop store,
she looked out through the dirt specked glass. Her presence there was like one
of the specks on the glass, invisible unless you focused on it. She was
invisible. There was bustling activity all around, but she was invisible. It
seemed that the rest of the world looked through her and around her as if she
were not there.

The call to Clay made her feel
even lonelier. Would he get the message? Would he show up at the truck stop?
She shook her head to clear the despair. Nothing was working out. Canada. What
a stupid idea.

She turned and walked back
towards the cafe to wait. There was nothing else to do. Taking a seat on a
swiveling stool at the end of the counter, away from everyone else, she waited
for the girl behind the counter to notice her, but she didn’t. She was
invisible.

But someone did see her. In fact,
Lylee Torkman saw almost nothing else.

Making his way along the edge of
the parking lot, Lylee found his car. He had left it in the gravel between two
rows of parked trucks. He started the car and rolled slowly up and down the
rows, thinking and slowly making his way closer to the main truck stop
building. Coming to the end of the lines of trucks in the gravel lot, he drove
past the back of the building. The car rolled slowly, almost idling, past the
garbage dumpster and rear loading door. Coming to the other side of the
building, he turned left and was able to park in a spot along the building’s
side wall, just adjacent to the rear of the building. There were no vehicles
parked on that side of the building. Trucks parked out in the lot. Cars were
all parked directly in front. This side of the building was a quiet,
out-of-the-way spot. All of the activity was near the building’s entrance. It
was not so secluded that someone might hesitate to walk to the car, but there,
where the sidewall joined the rear, no one would be paying attention.

Lylee sat there for a few
minutes. There was no traffic. Leaning forward to look up through the
windshield, he scanned for cameras. He could see none. Finally, he stepped out
of the Chevy. Leaning back and stretching as he turned, he scanned three
hundred and sixty degrees. Building corners, light poles, everywhere. No
cameras. Phase one of the plan was completed.

Of course, ‘plan’ was really a
misnomer. This was a stalk and a hunt. Like all hunts, there was a dynamic
element. He could set the trap, but what would follow would be fluid and
changing, depending upon the actions of the prey. Each bounding spring of the
gazelle caused the lion to change and adapt its attack. It was a part of the
hunt that thrilled him.

Confident in his skills, he had
honed them on his runarounds for years. They were sharp and ready. A tingle of
anticipation went up his back at what was about to follow.

Walking quietly down the side to
the front of the building, he moved quickly. Timing was important. He had to
move quickly without seeming to care. Although the side of the building was
secluded now, the dynamics of the hunt meant that could change. A passerby
might pull in near his car looking for a blow job from some truck stop whore.
An employee might go there to take a smoke break. Things could change. Right
now, they were as near to perfect as he could get them, but that would not
last. Phase two had to be executed without delay.

Lylee walked through the front
door and scanned the store quickly. She was not there. Moving to the doorway
that passed from the store into the cafe, he saw her instantly. She was seated
at the far end of the counter. There were three empty seats to her right and
then a cluster of drivers, drinking coffee and talking loudly. The waitress was
leaning against the counter laughing and talking with the drivers, coffee pot
in hand. Lylee could see that she hadn’t noticed the girl at the end. Without
thinking about it, this was automatically factored into the plan.

Walking across the cafe to the
counter, he took a seat. Leaving the one directly next to the girl open, he
took the one beside it. Close enough, but not so close as to startle the prey.

“Well, hello again.” Lylee’s face
bore the broad, charming smile he could turn on and off at will.

Lyn looked up from her lap. She
was startled to see the man who had saved her from Henry. The memory of the
violence of his attack on the big man was slightly eerie. She had been almost
as frightened of him as she had been of Henry.

“Hello.” Her voice was timid and
soft. She returned her gaze to her lap.

Lylee saw the apprehension in her
eyes. He talked as a distraction and to diffuse her concerns. “Listen,” he
said, “I wanted to apologize. I know I got a little carried away out there
earlier with…”

He took a deep breath as if he
were struggling with his feelings and went on.

“Well, with that big truck
driver. You know, I saw him…and he was going to, well it wasn’t good what he
wanted to do, and I just…well I just lost it, you know. I couldn’t control
myself.” Lylee lowered his head and looked down at his own lap as if struggling
with what to say and how to explain it to her. Out of the corner of her eye,
Lyn saw him lower his head. She said, “That’s okay. It just scared me.” She
raised her head and looked at him.

Lylee, kept his head lowered, not
looking at her. He knew that she was now looking at him. “I just, well,” he
continued in a contrite way, “It’s just that my sister was attacked once by
some men. They did… things to her, and I…well, anyway, I just lost it when I
saw that guy with you. I knew what would happen. I couldn’t stand it, so I…well
you know. You saw.”

Lylee lowered his head more,
closed his eyes briefly and shook his head as if to clear the memory of his
fictitious sister.

Lyn smiled just slightly at him.
“It’s okay. It scared me, but I’m glad. I mean I’m glad you did what you did
and helped me.”

Lylee raised his head and looked
her in the eye. This time he put a look of gratitude on his face and gave her
his soft caring smile.

“Those other two men were looking
for you. You know the ones who stopped you from…well you know, those men who
came by,” Lyn said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I know,” Lylee said. He
shook his head again. “I just had to clear my head and walk around for a while.
I was pretty pissed…sorry, I mean I was pretty mad, and I needed to calm down.”

Lylee looked directly at Lyn. The
charming smile was back. She smiled back at him for real this time.

 “Look,” he said lightly as
if to change the subject, “do you want something to drink or eat. My treat.”

“No that’s okay. I was going to
get a Coke, but the waitress hasn’t seen me yet.” Lyn shrugged and looked down
again.

“Oh she hasn’t, has she?” Lylee
said taking control like her big brother. He turned towards the waitress
laughing with the truck drivers. “Miss,” he said loudly, “we’d like to order.”

The waitress looked up, turned,
and placed the coffee pot on the hot plate behind her. Pulling an order pad out
of her apron, she said indifferently, “What can I get you?”