Wendy said, “I really like
it and if we add golf carts to ferry the seniors around we can also
have our FBI agents drive the carts. Make it look like it is open
and all are free to wander around, but in fact it is a crab pot to
catch the crab: no escape once in”
Brad’s pacing stopped when
agent Jones started the idea of a historical look at the Spruce
Goose and other planes at the museum Then he resumed his place
listening carefully to the discussion. He sat there and smiled once
he heard where it was going.
For the next hour they
kicked around the many details of the operation which by then was
accepted as a go. Nancy was making notes on her laptop fast and
furious as details were flying around the group it was hard to keep
up. She took a break and a deep breath thinking how a run and walk
on the beach came up with an almost foolproof method of catching
John the serial killer; or so they thought.
* * *
John drove down I-5 to
Portland, Oregon. South of Portland he took 99w towards the coast
on his way to highway 101 and down to Bandon by the sea. First he
wanted to check out McMinnville and then relay via a cell phone to
his brother. He’d given his brother a cell phone and showed him how
to use it when he stopped off at the pig farm. Nearing McMinnville
he took the Dayton bypass road that led to the airport and
connected with 99w to the coast. He took the time to visit like a
tourist and left of his view of Brad’s Round House. Before he left
he called his brother to give his thoughts on the airport and
security that surrounded it. He told him the picking looked good as
lots of old timers were wandering around looking at the giant
Spruce Goose and other planes of interest. The plan was set and he
drove off into the sunset for his date with a view of his
nemesis.
John drove the speed limit
at all times. His alias Clyde Walker of Wenatchee, Washington was
bona fide along with a passport. He had two more stashed in a
safety deposit box in two other cities. But for now he was he was
happy, but a long trip was ahead of him. When he reached highway
101 he turned south and drove through what is known as the “Twenty
Miracle Miles.” This was a section of the highway where small towns
joined each other is a strip along the beach highway for tourists.
Motels sat on the beach shore; restaurants with giant windows
overlooked the beach and ocean; and of course the ubiquitous
tourist shops to browse until you moved to another place just like
the one you just stopped at.
John made his way down to
Newport, a fair size town on the coast before he stopped for the
night. He would get an early start and be in Bandon about two hours
after the sun came up. But now heavy rain and wind beat against his
windshield and he was happy to hole up for the night as dark set
in.
Chapter 18
Brad and his running team
were running on the beach about two hours before daylight. The
storm had abated and now low clouds drifted across the calming sea.
Seagulls were out in force seeing what was to eat after the storm
surge left wounded clams and small crabs dotting the beach. Only a
slight wind was blowing onshore as they headed back up the trail to
the Round House feeling good that both the exercise and a well-made
plan felt good. Wendy looked at her watch and it was close to six
am as they entered the house. Sandy and her brood were on shift
with Rocky running with them. At eight am Rocky would replace Sandy
as point dog for the day.
It was Rocky who alerted the
team as they just finished up breakfast about nine am. What he
spotted was someone about three hundred yards away up on a high
dune among the scrub pines looking through field glasses down upon
the Round House. Rocky was trained to be aware of stationary
people, but people walking the dunes were rare and a person not
moving alerted his senses that something was not right.
John had left Newport long
before daylight and arrived in Bandon at about eight am. From his
map he found the Beach Loop road and made his way to where at a gas
station he learned of the strange house about three miles or so off
to the west of the Beach Loop road past the golf course. John had a
good idea where it was as he passed a side road that looked like no
other he had seen driving slowly down the road. He went passed it
about a quarter mile to a parking lot for beach combers to make
their way to the beach. He climbed the sand dune and walked along
the ridge through the scrub pines until he came to where he could
see to the north across the small creek that ran into the sea,
sitting on a bluff the Round House. As soon as he spotted the house
he quickly ducked down and crawled along the opposite side of the
dune until he felt he was close to where he could get a good view
of the house. John made his way slowly with his large spotting
scope in his back pack. Once on top, hidden fairly well he set up
his spotting scope and looked down at the Round House some two
hundred fifty yards away.
For twenty minutes he
looked down as the sun tried to break through the drifting clouds
rushing inland. The sun was off his right shoulder and no
reflection off his glass should be noticed. The first thing he saw
was a large dog with three pups in the front yard. Two cars and a
van sat in a gravel parking lot in front of the house. He saw a
trail leading down to the beach across the side hill of the bluff.
One nice spot for
a
house, he thought. No doubt the security was about the latest
technology as he settled in for a long watch until about noon he
thought. He’d brought a sandwich along with him and some bottled
water. A heavy coat made of Gore-Tex to stay warm and dry if it
rained
After watching the house he
thought about the written letter to the Batt Team and would mail it
from the Bandon Post office. Then his plan was to meet up with his
brother at the truck stop just north of Salem off I-5. Some
movement caught his attention as a man walked out of the door
making John’s heart pound with excitement knowing he was looking at
the leader Brad Pratt at his own home with the Senior Killer
watching him through a spotting scope. Another large black dog was
left outside while the other tan dog and her pups went into the
house.
He focused on the large
black dog who first did a three sixty of the house and then sat
staring up at him! John never moved an inch while the dog sat and
looked his direction. Fear and adrenaline raced through his body
knowing if spotted the chase was on. Before he left the motel he
borrowed some Oregon plates for just this trip. If he had to make a
run for it, he didn’t want Washington plates standing out like a
red flag to local and state police. If discovered he was sort of
boxed in. South on 101 where no roads east were available until the
Oregon California border; or back north on 101 of Coos Bay; and
what was an unlikely option was a highway that went to Coquille
from Bandon and then highway 42 to Roseburg and I-5.
About the time he decided to
pack it in the black dog set off the alarm and after setting off
the alarm raced down the side of the bluff directly towards him.
John left the scope and raced down the back side of the sand dune
falling head over heels rolling to a stop at the bottom of the hill
next to the parking lot. Completely out of breath and the hair
standing up on his neck knowing the dog would be on him in only
seconds. Dragging his car key out, pressed the unlock button, he
jumped in and was off out of the parking lot when the black dog
entered the parking lot just behind him. The dog chased for a few
seconds, but looking in his mirror, he saw the dog give up the
chase and turn around trotting back home. John’s hands were shaking
and his heart was about to come out of his chest he thought. He
tried to settle down and drive safely, but realized he was driving
way too fast as he rounded a sharp corner to the left and then down
a steep hill, back up the other side and came to a stop sign on
highway 101. A sign pointed left to Bandon and to the right and
south to Port Orford. He turned left and found he had slowly come
back to normal as he drove the speed limit back to Bandon about
four miles north.
Back at the house after the
alarm went off, Brad and Mike like a shot out of a cannon were out
the door with guns drawn one rolling to the left and coming up in a
shooters position while the other did likewise to the right. The
other members of the team where hot on their heel; Brad off to the
right saw Rocky racing up the side of the sand dune across the
creek making a line to the top of about a two hundred foot wall of
dunes that ran south for many miles. By this time Sujin had out a
four wheel drive small pickup truck with large tires for beach
driving or muddy roads. Brad ran to the truck with Mike as Sujin
jumped out and ran to the cable crossing. Gravel is flying and off
they went knowing whether it was most likely would head south and
then south again in 101. Brad after hitting the Loop Road, turned
right, went a quarter mile, stopped and looked into an empty
parking lot and then raced south. Both of them knew it was a lost
cause, but turned left at the stop sign on 101 and drove safely
into Bandon.
Brad found his brother in
law and reported an unknown person or persons probably spying on
his place from the parking lot near his place. Chief of Police Lane
radioed his officers in the field to be on the lookout for anyone
looking suspicious. All of them knew it was a lost cause and
fruitless to go on a witch hunt. They said goodbye and drove home.
Rocky meanwhile had found the spotting scope and brought it home.
Agent Jones dusted it for prints and after some time made a match:
John Mitchell, the Senior Killer.
Back home Mike and Brad
reported what little they knew to the team. Rocky, meanwhile was a
hero and strutted around with his head held high. Sandy realized he
did something important and showed her submissive side to him while
the pups played together chasing tails and rolling in the short
grass in front of the house. They all agreed he was going and would
not be back anytime soon.
John mailed his letter and
left town through Coquille and east on highway 42 to connect with
I-5 north to meet his brother at the truck stop at Wood Burn
between Salem and Portland. That location gave John’s brother
access westbound to McMinnville and for John to connect with I-84
east bound for his intended location in Central Eastern
Oregon.
Back at the beach house,
plans and details gone over a hundred time about the operation in
McMinnville, Billy was working on the word puzzle as usual with his
friends on the internet. Billy after a consensus of opinion with
his friends, he went upstairs to have a smoke and think about what
he had found out. Brad noticed the look on Billy’s face as he and
the rest of the team were either sitting around drinking tea or
looking out the window at the coming storm that was brewing just
off the coast.
Brad sitting on the floor
next to the wood stove had Rockies head in his lap gently rubbing
his head and scratching his ears. An occasional ray of sun broke
through the oncoming dark clouds doing a light show through the
windows casting shadows across Wendy and Nancy as they stood at the
windows talking. Steve sat in his usual spot of the sofa thinking
about how this would be the last time of trying to stop the serial
killer with an operation such as this one. His boss had made it
plain enough an hour ago when he called to report the details and
overall plan of the “Spruce Goose” operation. Now he had his long
fingers combing his thinning hair in thought as Brad watched his
friend handle the stress he too felt coming. We have to catch this
guy now, he thought while one of the pups climbed onto his lap for
a little attention.
In the kitchen Sujin and
her sister along with the old Korean lady were putting together a
Korean dish called Bip in bop. It is a vegetable dish served in a
stone pot with rice on the bottom, vegetables layered on top of the
rice with a fried egg on top. With a hot red sauce you mix it all
together to make a really healthy meal. The smell coming from the
kitchen made your mouth water. It was a perfect meal to greet the
wind and rain that would make its debut about dark.
Billy came in with a small
cloud of blue smoke dragging behind him. He stayed in the foyer a
minute or so to let the smell of his cigarette drift off and be
overwhelmed by the spicy smell from the kitchen. His eyes met first
Brad and then Mikes as he walked over and sat down next to the wood
stove while two of the pups gathered around him wanting him to play
with them. Billy had long arms and played with the pups as he was
looking at Brad with glazed over eyes deep in thought. Finally,
while one pup was chewing on his arm, he said, “I’m going to
leapfrog here a little and then I will play with the map, but I
think if we use McMinnville as the ‘Me” and then the ‘If’ is
Fossil, Oregon. The only other town that has its start with an ‘F’
is French Glen. No towns or cities start with an ‘I’ in Oregon that
I know of”
By now all had drifted to
the stove as the sky darkened and the first drops of rain
splattered against the windows. Brad said, “If you say so Billy we
will run with that as being his next stop if we don’t stop him in
McMinnville.
Mike chipped in with a what
if kind of thing and said, “I would guess,” as he looked at the
ceiling for an answer, “it would be a ten hour or more drive to
Fossil using the freeway east bound to highway 395 and then down to
Fossil if I remember right.”