No One Else to Kill (Jim West Series) (9 page)

“Tomorrow.”

She didn’t say anything, but she did take my glass back to
the tap for a refill.

“How far away is this firing range the lodge has?”

“Oh, it’s real close. It’s just down the dirt road.”
 
She motioned with her hand at the far side of
the lodge.
 
I didn’t notice a dirt road
being close to the window of the room where Cross had been shot, but that was
the end of the building she had indicated.

“An easy walk?”

“Maybe ten minutes.
 
I’d take you, but I have to work. It’s
pleasant through the trees.”

“Maybe I’ll walk over there in a minute.
 
I’ll go stir crazy if I just in my room all
day.”

She broke open a large bag of pretzel mix and poured some
into a bowl she had put on the counter next to us.

“I know I don’t need these, but I’m hungry,” she said.

We talked about nothing in particular over the next ten
minutes.
 
I declined another beer but did
my best to empty the bowl before she could eat too much - I try to be helpful.

When I left to go outside, the bar area and the rest of
the lobby were still empty.
 
I retrieved
my jacket first and took my car keys.
 
Once outside, however, I decided to walk.

To be safe, I followed the dirt road.
 
It might not be far away, but the woods
around here can get really thick quick, and I didn’t want to risk walking right
by it and getting lost. It only took about ten minutes to reach the long, odd
looking structure.

The road approached it at an angle and dead ended in a
small dirt parking lot that fronted the building.
 
The
structure’s
outside walls appeared to be made of cinder blocks.
 
The front consisted of a hardy board, or some
similar product. The plain wood door stood ajar a few inches. A sign next to the
door stated that the building belonged to the Royal Lodge and that trespassers
would be prosecuted.

I pushed the door open and entered.
 
In doing so, I nearly ran into a young
Sheriff’s deputy coming out.

“Excuse me,” I said.

At the same time he asked, “What are you doing here?” He
looked more nervous than I felt.

“Just getting a little exercise and I decided to take a
look at the firing range,” I said.

“Are you a guest at the hotel?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m Jim West.” I instinctively held out my hand to
shake his.

He held up his hand just high enough to show me he was
wearing gloves. I pulled my hand back.

“What’re you looking for?” I asked.

“Just checking the area out,” he answered.
 
He stood still blocking my entrance.

“Is there any reason this place would be off limits to me?
I mean this isn’t the crime scene, is it?”

He looked at me for a second longer before speaking.

“No, I guess not.
 
Just make sure you turn off the lights and lock the door behind you when
you leave.”

“Sure, I’ll only be here a second if you want someone to
walk back with.”

He grunted. “That’s alright.”

I eased by him and didn’t watch him leave.
 
I wouldn’t have cared if he stayed and
watched me, but he didn’t.
 
There was no
need for him to keep an eye on me.
 
The
value of everything inside of the building, despite its size, had to be less
than a hundred dollars.
 
Other than the
numerous fluorescent light fixtures, which had no real value, the only items a
person could steal would have been plywood and two by fours.

A large plywood counter had been built across a large
portion of the front wall.
 
Nearby, a
picnic table with bench extended a few feet from the side wall.
 
I imagine this was where the range officer sat
while individuals used the range.
 
Several firing positions were framed on the ground by additional two by
fours, and I do mean ground.
 
The
building had a dirt floor.
 
A number of
wooden crosses stood at different distances down the range.
 
Two still had paper targets attached.
 
The wall at the far end of the building was
hidden by a high, dirt berm.

Just the basics, I thought.
 
Practical, but certainly no
frills.
 
I didn’t even see a
restroom. Simple curiosity brought me here, but the deputy’s presence made me
wonder what he might have been looking for here in the building.

I glanced in the small trash can next to the door and saw
a few paper coffee cups and napkins.
 
Rather than reach into the trash can, I picked it up and shook it.
 
I didn’t see, or hear, anything else
inside.
 
The larger trash can by the
picnic table was completely empty.

I walked the firing line looking for any discarded brass
that hadn’t been cleaned up. I found a few, but nothing small enough to be a
twenty two. After looking around for nothing specific for another five minutes,
I departed the building.

The trees hid the lodge from view for most of the walk
back from the firing range.
 
However,
about sixty yards from where the winding dirt road met the lodge’s parking lot,
I came to a spot where the trees opened up enough to give me a very good view
of the side of the lodge and of the window to the room where Cross had been
found.

I studied the area and saw nothing of interest. Leaving
the dirt road I walked directly toward the lodge and looked for any place that
a shooter might have selected.
 
There
were too many to consider, and none of them looked disturbed.
 
Not far from the road, I also realized that
the ground had a slight slope to it. A shot from this position would have an
upward angle.
 
Anyone more than a few
feet from the window would be impossible to hit.

I walked back toward the road.
 
I had almost reached the road before I felt
that a shooter would have an effective line to the target.
 
From this distance, about thirty five yards,
it would have taken a good shot, and there was still that problem with the
physics.
 
How to get the bullet through
the window without breaking the glass?

 
followed
the dirt
road back to the parking lot.
 
Two new
sheriff’s vehicles had pulled up to the very front.
 
Their police lights were flashing brightly.
 
I had no sooner wondered what was going on,
when I saw two deputies walk out of the lodge with one of the
Bettes
’ in handcuffs. He looked stunned, and I thought he
might even collapse before they got him to their cruiser.

Right behind them walked the other
Bettes
,
half consoling his brother and half yelling at Detective Bruno who had appeared
in the doorway behind everyone. I stayed out of everybody’s way.

The sheriff’s vehicle sped away.

“Back inside!” Bruno barked at the remaining
Bettes
.

Bettes
snapped back at him.
 
I couldn’t be sure what he said, but I didn’t
think it was something endearing.
 
Despite what he said,
Bettes
followed Bruno
inside.
 
Once he cleared the doorway, a
female deputy walked out, climbed into the other car with the flashing lights,
and drove away.
 
Three Sheriff’s vehicles
still kept their quiet vigil in the lot.

The excitement over, I entered the lodge wondering if the
drinks would still be free.
 
Once again,
I discovered the bar empty except for Bev sitting off in a corner reading a
magazine. A lone clerk behind the reception counter brought the total human
population in the large open area to three counting me.

I walked over to Bev.
 
She smiled and rose to meet me.

“You missed all the excitement.”

“I guess I did.
 
What happened?”

“Not too long after you left those two men walked into the
lodge.”

“And?”

“And….” she paused for effect, “two of the hunting group
had just come out of the dining room. One of them looks back into the dining
room and called to a deputy, who I
guess
was on his
lunch break.”

“What did he say?” I asked.

“Something like, ‘Your two suspects are here.’ The two men
stopped dead in their tracks.
 
They
didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah.
They don’t talk much,” I
added.

“The deputy came right
out and told the two to stay where they were.
 
One of the two men asked what was up, and that’s when one of the
other men shouted, ‘You
murdered
our
friend!’”

“Ouch!”

“Between that remark and the deputy taking a step toward
them, all hell broke loose.”

“What do you mean?”

She grinned like she was enjoying the memory.
 
“One of the two men bolted out the door.”

“He just took off, like that?”

“Yep.
 
The deputy shouted something and was out the
door after him.
 
Two or three more
deputies came out of nowhere and raced out the door after them.
 
The whole time the other guy stood there
shouting at whoever would listen to let him be, that he hadn’t done anything.”

“Maybe he didn’t, but running like that wasn’t the
smartest thing he could have done.”

“They caught him after a few minutes, and by the time they
had him cuffed and back in here, the lobby was packed with everyone.
 
The deputy in charge finally had to yell at
everyone and send them all back to their rooms.”

“That explains why it looked like a ghost town when I came
in.”

“Yeah, there was quite a crowd here just a few minutes
ago.”

“Do you think he did it?” I asked.

“Could be, but his buddy was sure hollering in his
defense.
 
Apparently, the guy that took
off has some emotional issues.
 
At least
that’s what his buddy kept yelling.”

“Well, hopefully they’ll get to the bottom of it and
things will soon get back to normal for you,” I said.

“Except for the stress this is causing everyone, I kind of
like all the excitement.
 
Most of the
time it’s rather boring around here.”

“I can’t imagine life ever being boring for you, Bev.”

She laughed. “I wish my life was more exciting.
 
How about yours? I bet it’s a lot more
exciting than mine.”

“I doubt it.”

“What do you do, Jim?”

“Mostly nothing.
 
I’m retired from the Air Force.”

“You’re too young to be doing nothing.”
 
She looked at me suspiciously.

At that moment, Detective Bruno and the remaining
Bettes
came out of a back room.
Bettes
walked off toward the stairs.
 
He didn’t
look a bit too happy.
 
Bruno looked over
at me, nodded slightly, and walked out of the building.

“Looks like you two are buddies,” Bev said.
 
“You sure you’re not some kind of cop?”

“Would you like me more if I was?” I joked.

“I told you I’ve been with a few cops in the past.
 
Besides, I like you enough.”

She looked up at the door, and I turned my head to see
what caught her eye.
 
Rick walked in and
spotted us.

“Bev, what’s the latest?
 
I just passed that detective and he said things are happening.
 
What does that mean?”

“Let me get this gentleman a beer, and I’ll come talk to
you in your office,” she said. That seemed to satisfy him, and I soon found
myself alone at the bar.
 
I moved down to
an untouched bowl of pretzel snacks and settled in.

I still had most of the beer and pretzels left when I saw
Bettes
, the one that had stayed at the lodge, approach the
bar.
 
He walked up to the counter and
scanned the entire bar area.
 
He looked
like if he clenched his teeth any harder, his whole jaw would burst.
 
I decided to be nice.