Red Dog Saloon (15 page)

“I
need your boats in the water first thing this morning,” Sam yelled into the
phone as he motored toward Hurricane Bridge.

On
the other end of the line was John Bray, director of the local rescue squad
that specialized in water recovery operations.

“It’s
not even getting past freezing tomorrow, sheriff,” Bray replied.

He
wasn't keen on paging out his men on such a bitterly cold day given the
fact it was a recovery not a rescue operation.

“I
say we do it first of next week," Bray suggested. "It should be
a little warmer then.”

Sam
knew he couldn’t wait that long to determine if his escapee was in the
submerged sedan so he turned the screws on the rescue squad director.

“I
need that car found and pulled out of the lake immediately, if not
sooner," Sam declared flatly.

“I
don’t see what the rush is, sheriff. It ain’t like it’s going anywhere,” Bray
continued. “I mean it gets real cold on that lake, plus it’s going to be
snowing.”

“John!”
Sam began. “If I don’t see those boats in Castle Lake as soon as the sun comes
up this morning then I’m going to get on the horn and I’m going to call in one
of those professional recovery teams to do it. Then, when you come in front of
the county commission asking for money in the budget next year for the rescue
squad, I’m going to point out we already spent it paying someone else to do
your job.”

“You
don’t have to threaten me, Sam,” Bray responded indignantly. “I’ll round up the
boys. We’ll be there.”

 Meanwhile,
back at city hall, Glenn listened from his raised third story window to the
sound of sirens. He wondered with a deep sense of dread if their plan
had been foiled. What was happening out there? From the sounds of sirens and
the glow of emergency lights, it seemed like the end of the world. Had Bart
succeeded in his mission to dispose of Stevie’s body or had he been discovered?
Was he implicating him in the crime, perhaps even confessing to their
indiscretion long ago? Why hadn’t he heard from Bart?

The
minutes seemed to pass like hours as he waited for word. In the meantime,
the mayor took time to clean up any tell-tale evidence that a body had
been hidden in his office for an entire day while he lingered at city hall. He
also figured his office could use a good airing out since Bart so easily
detected the smell of death when he visited there earlier in the evening. The
open window was providing him an ear to his city as well as importing fresh air
to flush out any smell of rotting flesh that was hanging in the room.

The
mayor noted a second round of sirens about thirty minutes after the first group
circled the city. The first group seemed to come from the direction of the
county jail while the last group seemed to be heading to the west in the
direction of Pickett County. Did it have something to do with Bart or was it
merely something like a wreck or fire? If only Bart would answer his phone he
would know. On the other hand, as mayor he could call one of the city officers
and ask but then he didn’t want to attract suspicion, especially if the
sirens had something to do with Bart.

Tired
of waiting after maintaining his vigil for nearly two hours, Glenn decided it
was time to head home. Perhaps he could raise Bart later and find out how things
went. For now he was going to bid farewell to the office where he had waited
all day to ensure no one discovered Stevie hanging in his closet. While he
often spent a lot of time in the office, this had been his longest day ever at
city hall. He would be glad to get home and take a load off in his nice warm bed.
The cold from the open window was starting to chill him to the bone. He could
contact Bart just as well from his home as he could from the office through the
magic of cellular phones. There was no reason to wait for his cohort’s return
in the same office where a body had hung all day. The mere thought of it gave
the mayor another chill.

“I’m
out of here,” Glenn said to himself as he grabbed his coat and headed for the
door.

His
egress was halted in its tracks, however, when he heard movement down the dimly
lit hall moments after locking his office door.

“Is
someone there?” Glenn asked with his voice shaking. “Hello, anybody there?”

The
mayor stood and listened for a few moments before convincing himself that the
sound was a figment of his imagination. He figured he had a right to hear
noises given the day he just endured. Anyone would be jumpy after spending a
day locked in the same room as their friend’s decaying body.

Glenn
continued down the hall toward the elevator as he pulled on his overcoat. It
was frigid outside and he didn’t want to catch his death of cold.

His
potential cause of death, however, came into question at that very moment as he
heard movement in the stairwell located just steps away from the elevator.
Someone was coming up the stairs from the bottom floor. Who would be inside
city hall at this hour? Glenn had made sure all the doors were locked, double-checking
them himself since he didn’t want a secretary or custodian to surprise him as
he was tossing Stevie’s body out his office window.

Glenn
hoped against hope the elevator was waiting just on the other side of the
door.  There was one set of stairs and one elevator that served the old
building so his options for a quick exit were limited since the stairs were
occupied by whoever was coming up. He knew the chances were whoever was making
their way up the steps was friendly. Perhaps it was even a police officer
checking on the building.

But,
there was that place in the back of his mind that reminded him there was a
killer on the loose and that he was a likely target. Law enforcement may not
have connected him with the incident at the old Red Dog but he supposed the
killer had done his homework and knew he was amongst the guilty.

The
mayor’s hopes were dashed when he pushed the elevator button and heard the cart
activate from down below. His continued pressing of the button did nothing to
accelerate the slow elevator’s arrival. Meanwhile, he could hear the footsteps
round the second landing and continue toward the third floor. He couldn’t
afford to wait for the elevator. He needed to get away now.

His
keys! The mayor fumbled through his pocket for his keys as he began walking
quickly toward his office. The footsteps reached the landing outside the third
floor. Just as he anticipated the door to be thrust open, the footsteps
stopped. The momentary quiet didn’t discourage Glenn from sorting through his
keys to find the one to open his office.

“There
it is,” Glenn said to himself as he found the key and started to insert it in
the lock.

His
rush to refuge, however, was placed on hold momentarily by his curiosity. He
knew he had heard footsteps in the stairwell. There was no way, even in his
present state, he dreamed that up. But why did they just stop? Perhaps he would
call out once before cowering in his office for the rest of the night hoping
the old wooden door would protect him from whoever was outside.

“Hello,
anyone there?” Glenn called out. “It’s Mayor Satterfield here.”

Glenn
slipped the key in his lock just in case. However, his question was answered by
complete silence.

“I
said is anybody there?” Glenn asked in a louder voice.

This
time, much to his chagrin, his question was answered not by a voice, but
instead by a presence. The door at the end of the hall flew open.

He
couldn't believe his eyes! It was a man without a face! A form dressed in
black, a dark man, his face completely covered or missing, had burst through
the door.  The scene was surreal as the being seemed to move at almost
superhuman speed as he rushed down the corridor toward the mayor.

Glenn
couldn’t move. His feet were paralyzed with fear almost as if they were stuck
in cement. What was in the thing’s hand? It was a scythe! The Grim Reaper was
coming to get him! He was going to collect his head just like Eddie’s!

Finally
able to gather his senses and muster movement, he twisted the key but in his
rush he snapped the key off in the lock, leaving the key chain in his hand and
the rest of his office key jammed in the lock. He was a sitting duck!
If only the door to the conference room were open next to his, he might avoid
being hacked to pieces. It was his only chance.

Luck
was with him as he lunged for the knob. The door swung open, allowing him to
duck inside as the form raised the blade over its head preparing for his
decapitation.

Glenn
felt the creature slam its weight against the other side of the door just as he
reached and locked it from the inside. He was safe, at least for the time
being. He could call for help from his temporary refuge.

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.