Authors: R.D. Sherrill
Glenn
stood staring out the window for several minutes, watching the snow
fall while trying to decide if he wanted to eat his pride. If Earl
Cutts was truly alive, then everything had changed. Who was killing members
of the old gang and why? All this time Glenn assumed it was vengeance for their
deeds the night of the fire.
“That’s
it. I’m calling him,” Glenn said as he pushed himself to the phone.
“What
do you want?” Bart asked in a cool voice as he answered his phone. “I thought
we said all we had to say today.”
‘The
sheriff was just here,” Glenn said. “He knows, or at least he thinks he knows
that I was involved.”
“And
how is that my problem?” Bart asked.
“That’s
not the point,” Glenn replied. “While he was here he told me Earl Cutts is
still alive.”
The
news caught Bart by surprise. The calculating businessman remained
uncharacteristically quiet on his end of the line for a few moments.
“What
if he’s right, Bart? What if Earl is still alive?” Glenn said. “That means
we’re not murderers.”
Bart
smelled a skunk in the works. Why had the sheriff paid a sudden visit to Glenn
and dropped a bombshell?
“You
realize that is impossible,” Bart declared. “He burned up that night. He was
dead on the floor. I couldn’t find a pulse. He was dead - trust me.”
Bart
was lying. He had, in fact, bent over the prone frame of Earl Cutts that night
after hitting him in the head with his pistol. However, the bar owner did have
a pulse, something Bart kept secret from his partners in crime for all these
years.
Bart
realized even back then that he would be prosecuted for the attack on the old
man unless the others had something to lose. By convincing them Cutts was dead,
he enlisted them in his plan to cover up the crime by burning the Red Dog to
the ground. Even as the flames swept through the old bar, Bart knew each of the
members had a stake in what happened. Their mutual involvement had
ensured their silence all through the years - at least until now.
Bart
also had an even more sinister motive when he tossed the lit cigarette
into the gas-soaked bar that night. He realized with Cutts gone there would be
a vacuum in the vice industry in Castle County. The tavern owner dealt in just
about anything immoral or illegal. And he was right. Bart took over the drug
distribution, promotion of prostitution and stolen goods fencing concessions in
the area after Cutts was gone. His decision to eliminate the old man proved to
be the best business move he ever made as even now, more than twenty years later,
he continued making himself rich by profiting off the vices of others. It was
also his less-than-legal enterprises that left him and Sheriff Delaney on bad terms.
The lawman knew Bart was dirty but was unable to prove it, much to his chagrin.
Actually,
the sheriff didn't know the half of it. The car dealership Bart owned was
merely a cover to mask his illegal endeavors. Frankly, Bart could care less if
he made one red cent on his car lot as it was just a conduit for laundering his
dirty money. At the end of the day, Bart saw himself as some kind of Godfather,
heading a small-town Mafia. So long as his drug dealers were dealing, his
hookers were hooking and his thieves were thieving, he was a happy man.
Anyone who threatened his little crime kingdom would pay dearly. Stevie and
Rhody weren't Bart's first contributions to Castle Lake.
While
Bart knew Earl Cutts was not dead when he lit the fire, he had assumed the
blaze consumed the unconscious tavern-owner thereby silencing the potential
witness and business competitor forever. Now, Glenn was on the other end of the
line suggesting Cutts survived the inferno that evening.
“The
sheriff is just pulling your strings, trying to get you to talk,” Bart replied
“We need to just keep quiet and everything will be fine.”
Glenn
sighed loudly on the other end of the line. The sound told Bart the mayor
was losing confidence in him.
“Things
aren’t going to be fine,” Glenn retorted. “If things go as they have, one of us
is going to die tonight.”
Glenn
was right. There were four killings in four nights, Rhody courtesy of Bart’s
own hand.
“Whether
you believe me or not, the dark man was out to get me last night,” Glenn said
in a low voice, still embarrassed to tell his wild story despite the fact he
knew it was true. “He will be back tonight for either me, you or ... ”
“Or
who?” Bart interrupted. “I told you to be careful what you say. He wasn’t there.
He wasn’t part of what we did.”
“Regardless,
we have to take steps to protect ourselves,” Glenn said. “I think we need to
talk to the sheriff. We don’t have to tell everything; just enough where we can
maybe catch the killer.”
The
very mention of “coming clean” when it came to the Red Dog was not anything
Bart would ever consider. What happened there would always stay buried as long
as he had anything to say about it.
“Are
you crazy?” Bart asked. “We can’t tell anyone, and I do mean anyone. We have to
stick together.”
“I
don’t know ...” Glenn trailed off.
“I
thought you were leaving town until this all blew over,” Bart noted. "What
are you still doing here anyway?"
“The
airport shut down early because of the weather moving in and then the roads
started getting bad,” Glenn said. “I suppose that leaves me stuck, for the time
being anyway. I’m already packed and ready to go.”
Bart
quickly formulated a plan given that Glenn would not be able to get out of
town, and thereby out of the sheriff’s jurisdiction. So long as he remained in
town there was a chance he would spill his guts to the lawman in hopes of
saving his own neck.
“You
need to get out of there,” Bart said.
“What
do you mean?” Glenn responded.
“I
mean that being alone there is just asking for it,” Bart continued. “We need to
watch one another’s back. There’s safety in numbers.”
Glenn
was surprised by Bart’s willingness to help him after their blow up earlier in
the day. However, when he thought about it, Bart had as much to lose as he
did. The dark man was likely gunning for both of them.
“So
what do you suggest?” Glenn asked. “Where do we go? What do we do?”
“Well,
we start by getting you out of there,” Bart said. “Since they know you were
involved in the Red Dog mess, they’ll be watching you like a hawk tonight,
probably using you for human bait. I ought to know. They did me.”
The
idea of being used as a lure for the killer didn’t sit well with the mayor.
“Okay,
how do you suppose I get out of here then?” Glenn wondered. "If they're
watching the place like you say then they'll be on my tail wherever I go."
“You
just get your stuff packed in the car and let me worry about getting you out of
there,” Bart replied. “Once we get you out, we’ll wait until the weather
clears, lay low somewhere and then get out of town for a couple of weeks until
they can iron out this mess. I could use a vacation myself.”
“Sounds
great,” Glenn said. “But again, how do I get out of here without being
noticed?”
“Easy.
We'll create a diversion,” Bart explained.
“A
diversion?” Glenn repeated. “What do you plan on doing?”
“You
just be ready to get out of there,” Bart said. “You’ll know when it happens
tonight. When you see your opening, make a break for it and meet me around the
back of the dealership. They are keeping the roads fairly clear between there
and here so you should be able to make it.”
“I’ll
put my bags in the car right now,” Glenn agreed. “What time you think?”
“Sometime
this evening before midnight,” Glenn replied. “You just be ready to go because
we’ll only have one chance at it.”
With
that the men finalized their plans, the mayor to make a break for it after Bart
created a diversion to distract law enforcement. However, neither of the
"old friends" confessed all of their plans to one another.
“It
was just like I figured,” Sam said as he met with the task force, the six
lawmen gathering in secret behind Easton Elementary School a few blocks from
the mayor’s house. “The mayor would have none of it so it’s up to us.
We’re just going to have to be discreet.”
The
plan called for the six officers to take up observation posts in three unmarked
cars. The sheriff and chief would observe the front entrance from one vehicle,
Bo and Kendal the side and main grounds and Police Officers Kent Stallings and
Ryan Goodwin the back and wooded area behind the estate. The city officers
would use night vision binoculars to scan the area around the house. At the
first sign of anything unusual, the officers, all monitoring a scrambled radio
channel, would converge and hopefully capture the killer. Sam warned there was
no room for heroes in the mission given the fact their suspect was armed and dangerous.
“How
do we know our killer will pick Glenn Satterfield tonight?” Bo asked. "I
mean, he may decide to make a play for Bart."
“Frankly,
we don’t,” Sam admitted. “But I’ve got a feeling our killer is coming
here tonight. When I was in his house a while ago the mayor already had his
bags packed. He’s planning to fly the coop and if we know that then I’ll bet so
does our killer. He seems to know everything that’s going on before we do.”
“What
about Bart?” Bo wondered. "We don't have anyone over there now. You pulled
them all off."
“He’s
a big boy. He can watch out for himself,” Sam said plainly. “We don’t have
enough people to be everywhere at once. Plus, somehow I get the feeling whoever
it is may be saving Bart for last.”
“The
best for last huh?” Bo responded.
“Maybe you
should have said the worst for last,” Sam replied.
Thirty
minutes following their clandestine meeting, the officers were in unmarked
vehicles and in their observation positions. Sam and the chief were parked
unremarkably on the street across from the mayor’s house while the other
officers were concealed on lots on either side of the property. The officers
had unobstructed views to every inch of the estate. If the killer was going to
get to the mayor without being seen he would have to be invisible.
The
evening went as most stakeouts do, a bunch of waiting and watching. The biggest
danger was falling asleep from boredom. The sheriff cranked his vehicle
for five minutes at a time, warming the interior before cutting the engine. He
wanted to limit the amount of time exhaust was showing from the tailpipe. It
was little things like that which could give a stakeout away.
The
snow began to accumulate on the sheriff’s unmarked minivan, a vehicle he
borrowed, without permission, from his wife. What better non-obtrusive vehicle
than a teal minivan? The accumulation, Sam reckoned, would better camouflage
the vehicle as it sat on the street opposite the mayor’s estate.
“I
never would have pegged the mayor for something like that,” Chief Wood said, breaking
the silence in the minivan. “He seemed too high brow, too sophisticated to fall
in to a gang of thugs like that.”
The
sheriff looked through the snow, careful to not take his eyes off the
house while he talked with the chief. He knew one lapse in vigilance and
there would be a special election for mayor.
“People
have their skeletons. Some are just worse than others,” Sam responded.
“Sometimes folks are capable of doing things you’d never dream they’d do.”
“What
if it gets out, what they did?” the chief asked. “You know Mayor Satterfield
has designs on running for governor. Won’t something like this ruin him?”
“I’d
say it would, Denton,” Sam noted. “But somehow I suspect neither he nor Bart
will just step up and admit to what happened. That’s why we’re lurking in the
shadows tonight. Rumor is one thing, proving it is another. So far as I can
tell there aren’t a lot of people left alive who can provide that proof.”
“So
they'll get away with what they did?” the chief asked in a disgusted
tone.
“Well,
Chief, fate has a way of coming around and getting you when you least expect
it,” Sam replied. “I’m sure the others thought they’d gotten away with what
they did, that is, until vengeance came calling. Sometimes a man can get too
comfortable with his secrets. I’ve found very few things stay buried, no matter
how deep you bury them.”
The
lawmen sat silently watching the snow continue to fall, both absorbed in their
thoughts. Sam recalled his conversation with Earl Cutts and his assurance the
killer had an order to things – an order that would end with the old man being
killed last. What terror Earl must feel, waiting in the darkness of his room
for death to come to call. Whether it be the killer or the hands of Father
Time, his time was near. Sam could sense it during his visit.
The
sheriff spied through some field glasses, scanning the white covering which now
coated everything giving the landscape a surreal look. He would have problems
getting up to Shelby tomorrow to pore over Gina Porter’s records. He was
bound and determined to make the trip even if he had to go by sled dogs. Sam
was convinced there was something in the files that could be the key to
everything. Even if they were to catch a suspect tonight, the information in
her file could provide valuable evidence.