Installment #38 Marshall

Installment #38

Marshall

Marshall opened the back of the Jeep and began throwing wood off to the side. When Ambrose lay before him he took a deep breathe and  hoisted the big man unceremoniously to the ground. Well this was going to be a dragging act because he sure could not lift him. Oh, yeah, there was the snow shovel!  Glad he had bought that. It would come in handy for this task. He wedged the handle under a nearby boulder and pulled Ambrose into position. There we go!  Brains over brawn any day of the week. He grasped the handle, maneuvered into position and was amazed at how easily the load went up the hill, through the opening and as he neared the hole ahead he turned the handle and pushed the body near the hole. Now, how to unload it without getting too close. Marshall studied the site for a moment and then laughed. All he had to do was get the body a little further and then raise the handle and off into the eternal never land of sleep the cop would go!

Very carefully he moved the body forward until he felt it start to pull the shovel down.  He slowly raised the handle just an inch or two and Holy Shit! In the hole it all went, shovel, body and damn near Marshall. In just the briefest moment of clarity, he released the shovel handle right before it jerked him over the side. There was the first thud as the body hit the wall. He waited. He waited. The second thud never came. He crept closer to the edge and shined his light over the side. Holy Mother! The man was straddling the shovel which was wedged into a crevice. He stared closer. That rat bastard was laughing at him!  He played his light around the walls. There was no way down and no way up.  He was just going to have to stay there and laugh, because there was nothing Marshall could do at this point. The corpse had stolen his shovel and was now hanging above the abyss laughing at him. This was not good. This was not good at all. Marshall contemplated his options. Let’s see, he could climb to the bottom and what? Stay there the rest of his life? Or he could take the high road and do nothing. That seemed the way to go. If some idiot happened to stumble on his little cavern here, the bodies on the bottom might go unnoticed, but Brome Hilda there on the shovel handle was practically begging to be seen. Oh, well, that was a problem he could do nothing about.

Oh, and that shovel handle. He had not left a fingerprint on anyone in the bottom there, but that shovel handle would be a treasure trove of DNA and the little dealy with the ISBN number on it could be traced to the hardware store and right to Mr. Marshall Purcell. A trickle of sweat began to run down his neck and on down his back. Felt like a damn Centipede! He stood erect and hurried from the cavern into the bright Colorado sunlight.

As he hurried down the hill and the Jeep came in sight he reached in his pocket for the keys. Other pocket. He stopped and patted himself from top to bottom. Every pocket he had. Crap! Not again! He had just had this talk with himself about not locking his keys in the car and now, when he was in a hurry, he had done the very thing he had warned himself about. He stopped and went through the pockets again. They had to be in the Jeep. He had to have them to get here so they were not on him, they had to be in there. Just in case he got lucky he walked to the back of the Jeep and stared at the empty lock. Not there. Nope, definitely not there. He walked to the passenger door.  Locked. He looked in the ignition. Not there. Oh, no!  Had that cop somehow managed to pick his pocket? Dead people did very strange things. He knew that for a fact.

There was that whore he had picked up on Larimer Street that one afternoon. He had checked them all out and she appeared to be the cleanest one of the bunch. She was wearing a skirt so short he thought he could see her panties. Or not panties. She had huge breasts. They were so big he thought they must be false.  He pulled the Jeep to the curb and looked directly at her. She came and leaned in the window and he reached over and touched her cleavage.
“How much?”
 “For what, sweetie? An hour? A blow job? All day? You got to tell Flo what you want.”
“All afternoon. A walk in the forest. I want to screw on the forest floor on a pile of pine needles."
 “You ain’t kinky are you? You won’t hurt me will you? Johnny doesn’t like me to leave this area, so it gonna cost you extra. Johnny gets mean sometimes.”
“Get in Flo. I will make it worth your time. “

He opened the door and settled back behind the wheel. Flo climbed in and nestled back into the leather seat. “Nice,” she said and smiled showing a mouth full of yellow teeth. Marshall slipped the Jeep into drive and pulled out into the traffic headed west toward the mountains. It did not take long to reach the area he sought. Flo was enjoying the act of being a lady and waited for him to open her door.  He took her hand and led her to a nearby blanket of pine needles. She giggled as he spread a sheet over the top of the aromatic bed provided by Mother Nature. He removed her sunglasses and stared into her eyes. Yes, he had chosen well. He settled himself on the newly made bed.  He removed his slacks and indicated what he wanted.
“And look at me while you are doing it. Look me right in the eyes.”
She began her work and she was very good at it. Her eyes never left his.
“Oh, Mother!” he murmured as she worked on him and as he felt his release he screamed the words, “MOTHER, MOTHER, MOTHER!” And then it was over and he was spent.
He felt the tears spilling down his cheeks. And then she laughed. Damned whore! Who was she to laugh at him? He grabbed her tit and bit down with all the force he had as she screamed and tried to pull away. He spit the nipple across the forest floor and grabbed her head and snapped her neck. Bitch! She had made something so beautiful, dirty. Marshall wrenched his mind away from that afternoon and focused, slowly on the problem at hand.

He was locked out of his jeep in a very bad place. His keys were probably down at the bottom of the cavern along with lots of bones, the whore included. Well, he sure as hell could not call Triple AAA. Well, he could, but that move would not be wise at all. Then he smiled. Then he chuckled. He was not screwed yet. He had a key hidden in the Jeep under the seat. He had done that because this was not his first rodeo. He would simply pick up a rock and break the window, reach in and open the door and get the key and drive his little self home. Life was good. He quickly located a rock that was satisfactory for the purpose and slammed it into the window. Not quite as easy as he thought, but soon he was inside the Jeep and had the key in the ignition and disarmed the shrill alarm that was quickly destroying his ear drums.

He backed the Jeep around until he was positioned for the downhill descent, slowly released the clutch and moved forward, never once looking at the ring of keys laying in the dirt not 10 feet from the back of the Jeep. He was intent on getting home to the woman he loved.

Installment #37 Jack

Installment #37 Jack

Jack cursed as the phone in his hand continued to ring. “Answer Ambrose! Where in the hell are you?”  He dialed Meg again and still the busy signal. Where was she or who was she talking too? No. Women could talk but not for hours. They had tiny bladders and would be afraid someone could hear them pee. Traffic was light this morning, but he still held to pretty much the speed limit. Still 30 minutes from the Parker place and then he would know the score.

He gripped the wheel as a black Jeep came around the curve with one wheel in his lane, but before they met the Jeep turned onto an obscure little road. Kind of hard to make that turn without swinging a little wide. So he forgave the driver. When he finally pulled in the yard at Meg’s house he was almost relieved. Everything looked alright. Well, almost alright. The dogs were in the yard, so Meg must have put them out. No, there was a doggie door!  So why weren’t they inside waiting at the kitchen door to bark at this intruder?

 He jumped quickly from his car and ran to the house. The back door was open. He entered and began calling. No answers. The doggie door had a panel keeping the dogs out! He raised the panel and they ran in and began searching frantically for Meg. Upstairs, through the house, back out in the yard. Inside, outside. There was no reason for him to search. The dogs would have alerted him if anything turned up, good or bad.

He keyed his mike and waited for the signal and then spoke into the radio, “This is unit 17 and we have a problem. Ambrose is gone and the lady of the house is missing. I want all available units up here stat! And tell Leroy to move mountains. I need the name of whoever was in Meg Parker’s computer and we don’t have a minute to waste. This is no longer a stalking case, it is probably a hostage or homicide. Or a hostage and a homicide.”

He leaned to the floor and picked up a black shiny flat rock. Ambrose had dropped his worry stone.  He called it his lucky worry stone, but Jack could not stop the next thought, “Well, Ambrose, I think your luck just ran out.”

Installment #36 Fred

Installment #36

 Fred

Fred shouldered his gun and started across the road following the small deer.. He had come across it behind his barn just as the sun was trying to pull itself up out of the ground.  It was just the size he liked, not too big, but out of its fawn spots. The shot had gone just a hair to one side and not brought it down with a clean shot that he liked. It bolted and ran across the road heading west. Fred was in no hurry because the deer would not go far and his house was just up ahead.

As he started towards Storm Lake Road he heard a vehicle and habit made him conceal himself. He was surprised to see the black Jeep. Today was Sunday and usually when the man was at home he arrived on Friday. Oh, there was someone with him. That would explain him being here now.  He apparently had been partying and now they were just getting home. Fred caught a brief glimpse of the woman as the jeep skidded, slowed and righted itself. That guy must be drunk to drive like that.

 Hey! That looked a lot like Meg Parker. No way. What would she be doing with that weirdo? Nothing, that was what, absolutely nothing. He shook his head and continued following the blood droplets through the forest. The little deer was now headed just slightly down hill. Oh crap! At this trajectory it would end up right at the scar faced guy’s cabin. Well, too bad because he was not going to lose this meat. This was his and nobody was going to take it away. He had spent the last few weeks with only minimal amounts of squirrel and dove meat and this was going to be his feast. The small deer lay at the base of the tree where the telescope was stored. Oh, well.

He quickly took a length of rope from his belt and lashed the deer’s back feet together with one end. Then he took a longer length from his bag on his side and tossed one end of it over a tree branch on another tree. He did not want to leave signs here where the man could find them. Not that it mattered, but why rock the boat? He then returned and dragged the deer to the rope that dangled from the branch. He tied the rope to the trussed deer and began to raise the deer. As soon as it’s head was waist high he secured the rope, took out a very sharp hunting knife and slit the deer’s throat. He did not like to watch this part so he walked away a few yards and looked up the hill at the cabin.

What was that guy doing? He was carrying logs to the rear of the Jeep and now he was putting them in the back. Did he have a fireplace at his place in town? And he could not tell from here, but the woman seemed to be sleeping very soundly. The man slammed the door on the back of the Jeep and went around to the passenger door.  He watched as the man lifted her out and carried her inside. Drunk, no doubt, but she sure looked like Meg Parker from here. But that made no sense. When the door closed behind the man, Fred turned back to the deer. He slit it from sternum to anus and spilled the insides out on the ground for the forest critters. He took an old sheet from his bag and wrapped the deer securely. Now he could carry it back to his barn and finish butchering it. This would be very good venison. But he must do something first.

 He quickly climbed the tree and pulled the telescope into position. He zeroed in on the farm below. It was quiet. Too quiet. The dogs were in their yard looking very forlorn. Why had Meg left them outside? How long had they been there? They were always with her, unless she was not there. He looked back at the cabin behind him and saw the man hurrying to his Jeep. He watched as he jumped quickly inside and drove away. Why would a man with a woman inside leave like that? Fred did not know. What Fred did know was that the tunnel that led to the house was right over there. And he also knew if the woman inside the cabin was Meg Parker , she was in trouble. He also knew that the very thought of entering that tunnel scared the bejesus out of him.

That tunnel would be just like the root cellar where his mother had spent so many years entombed by a man he called his father. The man was gone. He could walk right across the yard and see what was going on inside. But how would he get in the house? Right back to the first solution. The tunnel led to the house and into the kitchen. He was going to have to go through the tunnel. And he was going to have to do it very soon. The man would be back, of that he was sure. With a sad glance at his beautiful deer, and another down the mountain where he saw the Jeep now passing the Parker farm, he climbed down the tree and headed for the entrance to the tunnel. His lips moved in silent prayer as he opened the door and stepped inside.

Installment 35 Him

Installment #35

Him

Marshall Purcell smiled at the woman in his arms. This
had been so easy. He had not been surprised at all to find the
man in Meg’s kitchen watching the back door. Watching? Little
hard to watch anything with your eyes closed completely and
your head lolling over on your shoulder like that. Marshall had
used his key to let himself in the front door. Who would have
thought a boogie man could come in the front door? His crepe
soled shoes made not a sound as he crept up behind him and with
one swift movement snapped his neck. Back out the front door
with the big man over his shoulder. Across the yard and open the
back of the Jeep and drop him quietly inside. Then back for his
prize. When he had Meg settled in he would drive the Jeep up to
the cavern and dispose of the body. Right now he just did not
have time and it would be light soon. He must get her home
where she would be safe!

He had waited in the sun room behind the heavy denim
drape beside the doggie door. He had sprinkled cayenne pepper
very lightly behind him to cover up any scent he might have left.
And it had worked perfectly. Out the door they had gone and
while Meg was pouring the water for the coffee he had quietly
slid the panel in place to keep the dogs outside. He did not want
to hurt the doggies. They were so cute and when Meg was gone
they would let him pet them. Marshall was sad that he had never
had a dog when he was a boy, but when he and Meg were
together, they might come back and get Elvira and Daisy. That
would be nice.

He watched her set down her coffee cup when the dogs
started scratching at the door. He smiled at her look of concern.
Such a wonderful woman to be concerned about her doggies
being locked out and how naïve to not even wonder how that
happened. As she reached to pull the panel up he quickly
encircled her shoulders with his left arm and placed the
chloroformed rag over her face. How fast it worked and
jubilation filled him as Meg sank against him. Yes! Very soon
this woman would be completely his and his alone.

She was light as a feather as he hurried to the Jeep with
his treasure. He placed her gently in the passenger seat, bracing
her in an upright position with pillows he had brought for that
purpose. Now, if someone should see them, they would just
think they were out for an early morning drive. Or, better yet,
just getting in from a night of partying! Yes, they had been
dancing all night in Denver and Meg was tired. But he would
drive and take care of her! He kissed her gently on the forehead
and closed the door quietly, not that the sound would awaken her
because the soft cloth was laying on her shoulder. He climbed in
the drivers side, checked the seat and glanced in the rearview
mirror. Ah, sweet Jesus! That asshole had his hand laying over
the back seat. Depend on a cop to screw up a bad dream.
He climbed out of the car, leaving the door open. Did
not want to lock himself out, that was for sure. That was no fun.
He had done that and he did not want to do that again. He
opened the tail gate and jerked the offending hand down and
placed it under the back seat, just in case the muscles tightened
up and the corpse started waving at people out the back window.
The sun was full over the horizon when he pulled onto Banner
Road and headed East. The sun hit him full in the eyes and for a
moment he could not see, but Storm Lake Road came up
quickly and he turned north.

He passed Fred’s barn on his right and then Fred’s house
on his left. That had to be inconvenient, but Fred did not seem to
notice since he only used the barn to butcher his poached deer
and such. Now there was a weird one, that Fred. He had dug his
tunnel for him and did a fine job, if he did have to say so himself.
Insisted on being paid in cash. Cash! Who used cash these days?
And what had he done with the money? God only knows. Guy
had nobody. Nobody ever came to his house. Or at least nobody
Marshall had ever seen. Hell, Fred had on the same clothes when
he dug the tunnel that he had on the last time he had seen him.
He had not told him his name. None of his business. As far as
Marshall Purcell knew, nobody on this mountain knew his name.
That was good. None of their business.

He reached over and traced the curve of Meg’s cheek. He
touched her eyelashes and smiled. Holy Shit! He looked up just
in time to see the ditch racing toward him and jerked the wheel to
the left. The Jeep fishtailed briefly and then steadied on the
road. Better tend to business. Ah, crap. There was a foot
sticking over the back seat now! Well that would have to wait.
He would be home in three minutes and the road dead ended at
his house and there was no one behind him. He focused on the
road and soon arrived at his cabin. He placed the cloth near
Meg’s nose briefly and then opened the door. He went to the
back and opened the hatch. He did not like to touch the man
because he was now getting stiff and repulsive. He hurried to the
wood piled on the side of the house and carried back several logs
and dropped them on the ground behind the Jeep. He folded the
detective back into a position and began piling wood on him. As
soon as Meg was settled he would go dispose of the body.

He closed the back of the Jeep and opened the passenger
door. He picked Meg up lightly and walked the few steps to the
cabin door. He inserted his key with his left hand as he
balanced her on his left knee. No, no, he did not want to drop
this precious bundle at this stage of the game. He stepped over
the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him. He crossed
swiftly to the bedroom and in seconds he had placed her on the
bed. She was still very quiet so he returned and threw the dead
bolt on the front door to the locked position. He knew he had
lots to do, but he lingered near the bed. He dropped to his
knees and laid his hand gently on Meg’s shoulder. He closed
his eyes and ran his hand down the full length of her lithe body.
He brought his hand back up her leg and caressed her knee.
Then up her thigh to her hip. He lingered there as he
envisioned the union they would have later, when his work was
done. He encircled her waist and then slowly moved up to cup
her breast. Oh, it was everything he had dreamed of for the last
two and a half years!

Damn that cop! He kissed her lightly on the cheek as he
reluctantly moved his hand from her breast to the bedside table.
He extracted the syringe and uncapped the needle. He found
the arm vein and inserted the needle and released the Adavan
into her blood stream. He extracted the needle and threw the
apparatus into the trash can.

He crossed to the root cellar and opened the door. Inside
was a tiny cot covered with blankets. He returned and picked
Meg up gently and carried her inside and placed her on the cot.
“Oh, my darling, I am so sorry, but I have to go out for a while.
You lay here and rest and when I come back we will make mad
passionate love all the rest of the day. I know you want me as
much as I want you, but soon we will be one. We will be
together forever in our own little Utopia. You and I, together,
forever!”

It was cool so he placed a blanket over her, kissed her
once more on the cheek and closed and locked the door. He
put his hand against the door to be sure it held.

He stopped suddenly realizing the job he had ahead of him. It
was such an inconvenience to have to dispose of that bastard,
but he couldn’t just haul him around the rest of his life. He
picked up the flashlight from the buffet by the front door, exited
and locked the door behind himself. As the Jeep roared to life he
quickly disengaged the clutch and pulled out of the yard and
headed back down the mountain. Past Fred’s and then past
Meg’s little farm with the dogs barking in the back yard. Thirty
minutes to the cavern, 30 minutes to drag the cop up the hill, and
then 30 minutes back home. It was an eternity, but he did not
want to get stopped and Meg would sleep for 3 ½ to 4 hours.
Sleep, my darling, sleep!