General Fiction posted May 13, 2024

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A chapter in the book Right in the Eye

Right in the Eye, ch 23

by Wayne Fowler

In the last part the FBI turned the case over to Colorado. Ben and Sylvia decided not to run. Ben’s California house was burned.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Sylvia’s Creede house was on Highway number 149, but folks referred to it as Mammoth Mountain Road, even though it wasn’t. A little more than a quarter mile south of town, Mammoth Mountain Road turned off 149 curving to ascend the mountain behind the house. The mountain road terminated on private property, though some maps showed it looping and returning to the north side of Creede.

No one saw the Jeep turn up Mammoth Mountain Road off Number 149 from the south, slowly driving up the dirt road without the use of their headlights. No one saw a man getting out of the Jeep and setting up a firing nest above Sylvia’s house about four hundred yards from the back porch umbrella table.

At about 5:30 in the morning, the backyard trooper long gone, the sniper with his Winchester M70 .30-06 aimed at Ben as he sat at the table, coffee cup in hand. The sniper loaded the first of the magazine’s five rounds with the bolt action. He aimed, breathed in, exhaling about half, squeezed and watched for Ben to drop. The crack of the explosion echoed across the valley. The sniper quickly chambered another round. Three seconds later, he fired again to the same result.

The sniper watched for any indication of where his round had struck – nothing. Four seconds later, after another obviously failed shot since Ben rose and returned to the house, the sniper inched back to his Jeep and raced down the mountain road, turning south on Number 149, unseen by anyone.

Ben was prepared to tell the sheriff where the rounds landed, in a yucca plant ten feet from the porch.

“Pretty simple, really,” the sheriff said. “Downhill shots strike higher. Aim low. Our shooter up there is a flat lander. He knew the rule, all right. He just mis-judged the slope – people do. He should have practiced. Gonna need to dig up your yucca,” he said to Sylvia. "Get those bullets.”

Sylvia gave him a nonchalant wave.

“But you, Ben, sitting there letting him adjust his aim…”

“Just watching God work, Sheriff.” Ben chose to believe that an obvious pro who could strike the same spot twice in a row and knew the trick of downhill shooting would have adjusted his aim for the second shot. "Somehow, God affected his aim, or the trajectory of the bullets. Or more obviously, this shooter was a city boy."

“The good news is that he won’t dare try the same shot again,” Tate said. “The bad news is that Schmidt Mining reported a burglary. A case of dynamite was stolen. We’re going to set up a speed trap, you know a man with a hair dryer like he’s using radar. We’ll stop every suspicious car on your road the next couple days.”

“Not a very effective way to do us in,” Sylvia commented. “Lob a few sticks from the road would tear up the house, but likely not kill us.”

“Might get you out where they could ram your car and then shoot you, though,” Tate replied.

+++

Detective Albion called that afternoon to suggest Ben and Sylvia tune in to the evening local news on television. He didn’t elaborate, merely said that he would be by the next day.

“Stay tuned for news from our John Peters from Alamosa. John, what do you have for us?”
“Well, Stan, I’m outside of the Motel 6 here in Alamosa. As you can see, the entire west end of the structure is nothing but rubble. Local authorities believe that only two people have been injured, as the building was empty of most occupants at that hour. The mangled vehicle you see was a Chevrolet Suburban. The state police and the Colorado Bureau of investigations is on the scene. We’re told that they are sifting through the debris in search of fingers that they can use to make identification of what they are saying was at least two bodies. Back to you, Stan.”

“God at work, darlin?” Syvia asked.

Ben tilted his head and opened his eyes wide. “Maybe. I’m not saying that God kills people, but he does allow them to be as stupid and careless as they choose to be. Everyone should know that dynamite is volatile stuff.”

+++

“Hello, Donald, offer you something?” Sylvia said.

“No … well, some cold water would be good.”

“Iced tea?”

“Even better. Lemon, no sugar?”

“Coming up.”

Detective Albion started right in, speaking to Ben loudly enough for Sylvia to hear him. “We’re pretty sure that the whole case of dynamite blew. They might have given a couple sticks to somebody, but that’s doubtful. And it was the Schmidt Mining dynamite.

“The victims were the two that had accosted you. We’re checking hotels and motels all around for suspicious characters that might have come in from out of state.”

Albion sipped Sylvia’s tea, accepting an offered seat while thanking her.

“The bad news is that we did not find a rifle of any kind.”

“So, someone is still out there,” Ben said, stating the obvious.

Albion and the tea glass nodded together as he sipped. “What would you folks say to a couple days at the Antler’s Rio Grande Resort?”

“Just up the road?” Sylvia asked. “Suppose it would be all right for us to hike around a bit. We’re getting a bit house cramped.”

“Don’t see why not, long as you avoid the road. Only thing is… well, your house might get a bit shot up.”

Ben and Sylvia’s eyes widened.

“These boys who we think came in… We’re sure one of them used the .30-06, but they like to think themselves old-timey gangsters. They like those old Tommy guns you see in the movies. You know, the Thompson machine gun.”
Ben and Sylvia nodded understanding.

“We’ll set up mannequins. Make it look like it’s you and you’re home sitting in front of the window. Your car will have to be here, of course. We’ll have a camera set up and hidden cars at both ends of the road. Once the shooting starts, nobody gets away.”

Ben and Sylvia agreed. Just after lunch, they were driven to The Antlers, Benji along with. As soon as they checked in, Sylvia gained permission and used the office phone to invite Slim and Mary to join them for a holiday. Slim and Mary were there by suppertime.

After a shared table in the Antlers’ restaurant, the four caught each other up with a recounting of events over a game of dominoes. Slim and Mary were amazed at the story of the puppies and Benji.

“Let’s go across the footbridge for a little walk,” Sylvia suggested. All four were breathing hard by the time they’d managed the knoll behind the resort up the foothills of Bristol Head Mountain.

“That’s east, right?” Ben asked, pointing down the river valley.

“It would be a pretty sunrise,” Mary said.

“About six,” Sylvia suggested, “Breakfast after?”

All four agreed as they began the descent, ready to settle in for the night.

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Ben P. Persons: 81-year-old son of Ben Persons
Sylvia Adams: grand-daughter of Livvy and William Ferlonson
Isaac Fisher: FBI Agent
Donald Albion: Colorado state detective
Sheriff Tate: sheriff of Creede and Mineral County, Colorado
Slim Goldman (Herschell Diddleknopper): miner who Ben (senior) rescued in 1886
Mary Diddleknopper: Slim's wife, great granddaughter of LouAnne (Slim's girlfriend from the1870s)

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Music to my ears

A chapter in the book Right in the Eye

Right in the Eye, ch 23

by Wayne Fowler

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