| General Fiction posted November 15, 2010 | Chapters: |
...10 11 -12- 13... 
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Another killing
A chapter in the book Redemption
Hawk
by bhogg
Background: Dax Connor rescued Lael Jackson from an attempted rape, subduing the two assailants, who were later found dead. Dax has been charged to stay in town until the investigation is complete. Lael has invited him to stay with her mom and herself. Dax inadvertently finds himself dropped right in the middle of a complicated drug conspiracy. Characters are listed in author notes.
From Previous Chapter: Jimmy and Dax are meeting for breakfast when a call comes that there has been an explosion at an old warehouse. Several deputies were on site, investigating gunshots and a possible double homicide. On the way to the site, Dax is looking for clarification.
"You know, Jimmy, everyone has tiptoed around talking about Sheriff Bailey. What's the story there?"
Jimmy paused before answering. "I don't know if you've ever lived in a small town before. Typically, you know everybody and everybody knows you. I've known Alva Bailey all my life. I think he has held that Sheriff's position for something like 20 years. He must be doing something right, or he wouldn't keep getting elected."
"I hear you, but I'm interested in what your gut tells you. Is he clean, or is he connected at the hip with Boudreaux and what's going on with drugs?"
Jimmy pulled in next to the warehouse. "Well, since the Sheriff has already arrived, you'll have a chance to see him in action. As I recall, your first encounter wasn't so friendly. Maybe you can decide for yourself."
***********************************************
Dax saw not only the Sheriff's car, but a medical van that indicated the coroner. Just pulling out was a fire engine. Looking over at Jimmy, he asked, "Do you think it is a good idea for me to be here? The last time I saw the Sheriff, he was ready to have me arrested for murder."
"Well, it probably doesn't matter much because there's the Sheriff. He's looking right at us and motioning us over. Let's go see what's up."
Jimmy and Dax approached Sheriff Alva Bailey. There was a female deputy with him that Dax didn't know. Dax prided himself on being able to read people. On her face he saw curiosity. Reading Bailey was a different matter. Dax saw nothing, either warm or cold.
Jimmy broke the ice. "Dax, this is Nikki Tate, and the Sheriff I think you know."
Dax shook hands with Nikki and turned to the Sheriff. He was surprised when Bailey stuck out his hand.
"Mr. Connor, I owe you an apology. I was a little hasty at our last meeting. If I had stopped long enough to take a couple of deep breaths, I would have realized that you had nothing to do with killing the two victims. In fact, it was a good thing you were around. Lael is one of the few young people who doesn't seem hell bent to leave town. There aren't many of them left."
"No apology needed, Sheriff. Please call me Dax. I didn't take offense at your initial reaction. You've got a tough job, and you got hit right between the eyes with an unusual set of circumstances."
Bailey briefly nodded. "I want you to know that I did make a few phone calls and got a little more background on you. Knowing what I know, we don't really have to wait for the gun residue tests. You're free to leave town any time you want. Right now though, you could probably help us out. My other three deputies ran over to the hospital for a quick check."
This got Jimmy's attention. "They're all okay, aren't they?"
Nikki chuckled. "Terry Bunn might be the worse off. He heaved Stan off the loading dock and took the full brunt of the fall. It was quite a sight. Scott had a facial cut that might require additional clean up and a butterfly bandage. Stan's ears were still ringing from the explosion. If any of them apply for medical leave, they're just goofing off."
Even Bailey smiled at this. "Okay, why don't we split forces? Jimmy, you help Doc with the two bodies. Dax, Nikki and I, will start a search grid inside the warehouse. The fire chief said the space was safe. With the back doors open and high roof, the explosion just rearranged stuff. He did leave a couple of dry chemical extinguishers if we need them."
Heading through the rear door, Nikki handed both Bailey and Dax a pair of surgical gloves, some small sealable bags and felt tip pens. "Dax, since you aren't on the payroll here, before you bag and tag something, please let either me or the Sheriff know. I would hate to have some evidence thrown out because of a chain of custody problem."
Dax nodded an affirmative as he thought, for a small town, these deputies seem pretty good. They began their search in a small 10 foot grid inside the door. At the far right end of the grid, Nikki reached down underneath a bench to retrieve a small shiny object. She held it up. "This is a 22 long, shell casing. We can't tell if it was used here, but we do know the previous victims were shot with a 22. It will be useless without prints. Rim fire 22 cartridges are the most widely available ammunition in the world."
Bailey commented. "That may be, Nikki, but the previous crime site had apparently been cleaned up and in a hurry. We didn't find any cartridges. If this was done by the same folks, they are either getting sloppy, using a revolver, or the weapon ejected the spent casing where they couldn't find it. Only pro's clean up shell casings from a crime scene."
In the next grid, Dax stopped. "Nikki, you might want to take a look at this."
Nikki came over and picked up the object. It was the top third of a small coffee can. Attached to the rim was a small piece of wire. Both were mangled, apparently by the explosion. "It looks like the top of a can and some wire. What am I missing?"
Dax looked over at the Sheriff. Bailey answered. "Nikki, did you say that the explosion was a double explosion, first, a smaller one, followed almost immediately by a larger one."
"Yes."
"What you see is part of the device responsible for the first explosion. Our guys in Iraq and Afghanistan are subjected to some pretty sophisticated improvised explosive devices, or i.e.d.'s. This one is a simple one that I remember from Vietnam days. You take an M67 grenade and remove the pin. If you put the grenade inside of a can, it keeps the arming lever from deploying. When Stan and Terry burst through the door, the trip wire pulled the can away from the grenade and caused the arming lever to come loose. The first explosion was the grenade. The second was the propane tanks that Stan spotted. They are lucky to be alive. Is that about what you see, Dax?"
"Yes it is, Sheriff. That is exactly what I see." Dax was thinking, maybe there's more to you than I thought.
************************************
The Coroner, Doc Bennett and Jimmy were doing their best to examine the victims. The blast and burn didn't help. From what they could tell, they were both shot in the head with a small caliber weapon. One was a male, approximately aged thirty to forty. It was hard to tell the age on the second victim, a female. It appeared as she was doing more than cooking meth. There were visible sores on her arms and her teeth were broken and blackened.
Doc Bennett commented, "This poor woman was a big time user. I've seen the sores before. They are created by obsessive skin picking brought on by hallucinations of bugs under the skin. The deterioration of her teeth indicate she's been using for quite some time. She could be twenty or she could be sixty. All we can do right now is bag them, and take them back to the morgue. Maybe we can find out some more there."
***********************************
The small motor court on the outskirts of town was like hundreds of others throughout the Southeast. Prior to the interstate days, these structures dotted the secondary roads. It was built of concrete block and painted a light green. The facade was decorated with white columns around the centrally located office. The name of the place was the White Column Motor Lodge. There were sixteen rooms. Three cars were in the lot and one belonged to the night manager.
Room eight was currently occupied by two Hispanic males. Enrique Estaban was a tall man, with a look that was more European than Mexican. His features were sharp and angular. Behind his back, his associates called him "The Hawk." His hair was well proportioned and styled. He sat at the one desk, taking apart and cleaning his pistol, a Colt, Woodsman, 22 caliber, rim fired, semi-automatic . This weapon, discontinued in 1977, is still considered the finest small caliber handgun ever made. Enrique caressed it like a living thing.
Jorge Morales was a man who looked more Indian than Mexican. He was short and squat, but very powerful. He was sitting on the only other available place in the room, one of the double beds. He knew to be careful with Enrique, but he was curious.
"Why did you shoot the two Anglo's at the meth lab? I could understand the two guys yesterday. They were dangerous, and had information that could be harmful to the cartel. The two today were no-bodies. The woman was pathetic. Not that it matters, I would just like to know, why kill them?"
Enrique placed the gun down on the table before responding with a total lack of emotion. "Because that's what I do."
Background: Dax Connor rescued Lael Jackson from an attempted rape, subduing the two assailants, who were later found dead. Dax has been charged to stay in town until the investigation is complete. Lael has invited him to stay with her mom and herself. Dax inadvertently finds himself dropped right in the middle of a complicated drug conspiracy. Characters are listed in author notes.
From Previous Chapter: Jimmy and Dax are meeting for breakfast when a call comes that there has been an explosion at an old warehouse. Several deputies were on site, investigating gunshots and a possible double homicide. On the way to the site, Dax is looking for clarification.
"You know, Jimmy, everyone has tiptoed around talking about Sheriff Bailey. What's the story there?"
Jimmy paused before answering. "I don't know if you've ever lived in a small town before. Typically, you know everybody and everybody knows you. I've known Alva Bailey all my life. I think he has held that Sheriff's position for something like 20 years. He must be doing something right, or he wouldn't keep getting elected."
"I hear you, but I'm interested in what your gut tells you. Is he clean, or is he connected at the hip with Boudreaux and what's going on with drugs?"
Jimmy pulled in next to the warehouse. "Well, since the Sheriff has already arrived, you'll have a chance to see him in action. As I recall, your first encounter wasn't so friendly. Maybe you can decide for yourself."
***********************************************
Dax saw not only the Sheriff's car, but a medical van that indicated the coroner. Just pulling out was a fire engine. Looking over at Jimmy, he asked, "Do you think it is a good idea for me to be here? The last time I saw the Sheriff, he was ready to have me arrested for murder."
"Well, it probably doesn't matter much because there's the Sheriff. He's looking right at us and motioning us over. Let's go see what's up."
Jimmy and Dax approached Sheriff Alva Bailey. There was a female deputy with him that Dax didn't know. Dax prided himself on being able to read people. On her face he saw curiosity. Reading Bailey was a different matter. Dax saw nothing, either warm or cold.
Jimmy broke the ice. "Dax, this is Nikki Tate, and the Sheriff I think you know."
Dax shook hands with Nikki and turned to the Sheriff. He was surprised when Bailey stuck out his hand.
"Mr. Connor, I owe you an apology. I was a little hasty at our last meeting. If I had stopped long enough to take a couple of deep breaths, I would have realized that you had nothing to do with killing the two victims. In fact, it was a good thing you were around. Lael is one of the few young people who doesn't seem hell bent to leave town. There aren't many of them left."
"No apology needed, Sheriff. Please call me Dax. I didn't take offense at your initial reaction. You've got a tough job, and you got hit right between the eyes with an unusual set of circumstances."
Bailey briefly nodded. "I want you to know that I did make a few phone calls and got a little more background on you. Knowing what I know, we don't really have to wait for the gun residue tests. You're free to leave town any time you want. Right now though, you could probably help us out. My other three deputies ran over to the hospital for a quick check."
This got Jimmy's attention. "They're all okay, aren't they?"
Nikki chuckled. "Terry Bunn might be the worse off. He heaved Stan off the loading dock and took the full brunt of the fall. It was quite a sight. Scott had a facial cut that might require additional clean up and a butterfly bandage. Stan's ears were still ringing from the explosion. If any of them apply for medical leave, they're just goofing off."
Even Bailey smiled at this. "Okay, why don't we split forces? Jimmy, you help Doc with the two bodies. Dax, Nikki and I, will start a search grid inside the warehouse. The fire chief said the space was safe. With the back doors open and high roof, the explosion just rearranged stuff. He did leave a couple of dry chemical extinguishers if we need them."
Heading through the rear door, Nikki handed both Bailey and Dax a pair of surgical gloves, some small sealable bags and felt tip pens. "Dax, since you aren't on the payroll here, before you bag and tag something, please let either me or the Sheriff know. I would hate to have some evidence thrown out because of a chain of custody problem."
Dax nodded an affirmative as he thought, for a small town, these deputies seem pretty good. They began their search in a small 10 foot grid inside the door. At the far right end of the grid, Nikki reached down underneath a bench to retrieve a small shiny object. She held it up. "This is a 22 long, shell casing. We can't tell if it was used here, but we do know the previous victims were shot with a 22. It will be useless without prints. Rim fire 22 cartridges are the most widely available ammunition in the world."
Bailey commented. "That may be, Nikki, but the previous crime site had apparently been cleaned up and in a hurry. We didn't find any cartridges. If this was done by the same folks, they are either getting sloppy, using a revolver, or the weapon ejected the spent casing where they couldn't find it. Only pro's clean up shell casings from a crime scene."
In the next grid, Dax stopped. "Nikki, you might want to take a look at this."
Nikki came over and picked up the object. It was the top third of a small coffee can. Attached to the rim was a small piece of wire. Both were mangled, apparently by the explosion. "It looks like the top of a can and some wire. What am I missing?"
Dax looked over at the Sheriff. Bailey answered. "Nikki, did you say that the explosion was a double explosion, first, a smaller one, followed almost immediately by a larger one."
"Yes."
"What you see is part of the device responsible for the first explosion. Our guys in Iraq and Afghanistan are subjected to some pretty sophisticated improvised explosive devices, or i.e.d.'s. This one is a simple one that I remember from Vietnam days. You take an M67 grenade and remove the pin. If you put the grenade inside of a can, it keeps the arming lever from deploying. When Stan and Terry burst through the door, the trip wire pulled the can away from the grenade and caused the arming lever to come loose. The first explosion was the grenade. The second was the propane tanks that Stan spotted. They are lucky to be alive. Is that about what you see, Dax?"
"Yes it is, Sheriff. That is exactly what I see." Dax was thinking, maybe there's more to you than I thought.
************************************
The Coroner, Doc Bennett and Jimmy were doing their best to examine the victims. The blast and burn didn't help. From what they could tell, they were both shot in the head with a small caliber weapon. One was a male, approximately aged thirty to forty. It was hard to tell the age on the second victim, a female. It appeared as she was doing more than cooking meth. There were visible sores on her arms and her teeth were broken and blackened.
Doc Bennett commented, "This poor woman was a big time user. I've seen the sores before. They are created by obsessive skin picking brought on by hallucinations of bugs under the skin. The deterioration of her teeth indicate she's been using for quite some time. She could be twenty or she could be sixty. All we can do right now is bag them, and take them back to the morgue. Maybe we can find out some more there."
***********************************
The small motor court on the outskirts of town was like hundreds of others throughout the Southeast. Prior to the interstate days, these structures dotted the secondary roads. It was built of concrete block and painted a light green. The facade was decorated with white columns around the centrally located office. The name of the place was the White Column Motor Lodge. There were sixteen rooms. Three cars were in the lot and one belonged to the night manager.
Room eight was currently occupied by two Hispanic males. Enrique Estaban was a tall man, with a look that was more European than Mexican. His features were sharp and angular. Behind his back, his associates called him "The Hawk." His hair was well proportioned and styled. He sat at the one desk, taking apart and cleaning his pistol, a Colt, Woodsman, 22 caliber, rim fired, semi-automatic . This weapon, discontinued in 1977, is still considered the finest small caliber handgun ever made. Enrique caressed it like a living thing.
Jorge Morales was a man who looked more Indian than Mexican. He was short and squat, but very powerful. He was sitting on the only other available place in the room, one of the double beds. He knew to be careful with Enrique, but he was curious.
"Why did you shoot the two Anglo's at the meth lab? I could understand the two guys yesterday. They were dangerous, and had information that could be harmful to the cartel. The two today were no-bodies. The woman was pathetic. Not that it matters, I would just like to know, why kill them?"
Enrique placed the gun down on the table before responding with a total lack of emotion. "Because that's what I do."
From Previous Chapter: Jimmy and Dax are meeting for breakfast when a call comes that there has been an explosion at an old warehouse. Several deputies were on site, investigating gunshots and a possible double homicide. On the way to the site, Dax is looking for clarification.
"You know, Jimmy, everyone has tiptoed around talking about Sheriff Bailey. What's the story there?"
Jimmy paused before answering. "I don't know if you've ever lived in a small town before. Typically, you know everybody and everybody knows you. I've known Alva Bailey all my life. I think he has held that Sheriff's position for something like 20 years. He must be doing something right, or he wouldn't keep getting elected."
"I hear you, but I'm interested in what your gut tells you. Is he clean, or is he connected at the hip with Boudreaux and what's going on with drugs?"
Jimmy pulled in next to the warehouse. "Well, since the Sheriff has already arrived, you'll have a chance to see him in action. As I recall, your first encounter wasn't so friendly. Maybe you can decide for yourself."
***********************************************
Dax saw not only the Sheriff's car, but a medical van that indicated the coroner. Just pulling out was a fire engine. Looking over at Jimmy, he asked, "Do you think it is a good idea for me to be here? The last time I saw the Sheriff, he was ready to have me arrested for murder."
"Well, it probably doesn't matter much because there's the Sheriff. He's looking right at us and motioning us over. Let's go see what's up."
Jimmy and Dax approached Sheriff Alva Bailey. There was a female deputy with him that Dax didn't know. Dax prided himself on being able to read people. On her face he saw curiosity. Reading Bailey was a different matter. Dax saw nothing, either warm or cold.
Jimmy broke the ice. "Dax, this is Nikki Tate, and the Sheriff I think you know."
Dax shook hands with Nikki and turned to the Sheriff. He was surprised when Bailey stuck out his hand.
"Mr. Connor, I owe you an apology. I was a little hasty at our last meeting. If I had stopped long enough to take a couple of deep breaths, I would have realized that you had nothing to do with killing the two victims. In fact, it was a good thing you were around. Lael is one of the few young people who doesn't seem hell bent to leave town. There aren't many of them left."
"No apology needed, Sheriff. Please call me Dax. I didn't take offense at your initial reaction. You've got a tough job, and you got hit right between the eyes with an unusual set of circumstances."
Bailey briefly nodded. "I want you to know that I did make a few phone calls and got a little more background on you. Knowing what I know, we don't really have to wait for the gun residue tests. You're free to leave town any time you want. Right now though, you could probably help us out. My other three deputies ran over to the hospital for a quick check."
This got Jimmy's attention. "They're all okay, aren't they?"
Nikki chuckled. "Terry Bunn might be the worse off. He heaved Stan off the loading dock and took the full brunt of the fall. It was quite a sight. Scott had a facial cut that might require additional clean up and a butterfly bandage. Stan's ears were still ringing from the explosion. If any of them apply for medical leave, they're just goofing off."
Even Bailey smiled at this. "Okay, why don't we split forces? Jimmy, you help Doc with the two bodies. Dax, Nikki and I, will start a search grid inside the warehouse. The fire chief said the space was safe. With the back doors open and high roof, the explosion just rearranged stuff. He did leave a couple of dry chemical extinguishers if we need them."
Heading through the rear door, Nikki handed both Bailey and Dax a pair of surgical gloves, some small sealable bags and felt tip pens. "Dax, since you aren't on the payroll here, before you bag and tag something, please let either me or the Sheriff know. I would hate to have some evidence thrown out because of a chain of custody problem."
Dax nodded an affirmative as he thought, for a small town, these deputies seem pretty good. They began their search in a small 10 foot grid inside the door. At the far right end of the grid, Nikki reached down underneath a bench to retrieve a small shiny object. She held it up. "This is a 22 long, shell casing. We can't tell if it was used here, but we do know the previous victims were shot with a 22. It will be useless without prints. Rim fire 22 cartridges are the most widely available ammunition in the world."
Bailey commented. "That may be, Nikki, but the previous crime site had apparently been cleaned up and in a hurry. We didn't find any cartridges. If this was done by the same folks, they are either getting sloppy, using a revolver, or the weapon ejected the spent casing where they couldn't find it. Only pro's clean up shell casings from a crime scene."
In the next grid, Dax stopped. "Nikki, you might want to take a look at this."
Nikki came over and picked up the object. It was the top third of a small coffee can. Attached to the rim was a small piece of wire. Both were mangled, apparently by the explosion. "It looks like the top of a can and some wire. What am I missing?"
Dax looked over at the Sheriff. Bailey answered. "Nikki, did you say that the explosion was a double explosion, first, a smaller one, followed almost immediately by a larger one."
"Yes."
"What you see is part of the device responsible for the first explosion. Our guys in Iraq and Afghanistan are subjected to some pretty sophisticated improvised explosive devices, or i.e.d.'s. This one is a simple one that I remember from Vietnam days. You take an M67 grenade and remove the pin. If you put the grenade inside of a can, it keeps the arming lever from deploying. When Stan and Terry burst through the door, the trip wire pulled the can away from the grenade and caused the arming lever to come loose. The first explosion was the grenade. The second was the propane tanks that Stan spotted. They are lucky to be alive. Is that about what you see, Dax?"
"Yes it is, Sheriff. That is exactly what I see." Dax was thinking, maybe there's more to you than I thought.
************************************
The Coroner, Doc Bennett and Jimmy were doing their best to examine the victims. The blast and burn didn't help. From what they could tell, they were both shot in the head with a small caliber weapon. One was a male, approximately aged thirty to forty. It was hard to tell the age on the second victim, a female. It appeared as she was doing more than cooking meth. There were visible sores on her arms and her teeth were broken and blackened.
Doc Bennett commented, "This poor woman was a big time user. I've seen the sores before. They are created by obsessive skin picking brought on by hallucinations of bugs under the skin. The deterioration of her teeth indicate she's been using for quite some time. She could be twenty or she could be sixty. All we can do right now is bag them, and take them back to the morgue. Maybe we can find out some more there."
***********************************
The small motor court on the outskirts of town was like hundreds of others throughout the Southeast. Prior to the interstate days, these structures dotted the secondary roads. It was built of concrete block and painted a light green. The facade was decorated with white columns around the centrally located office. The name of the place was the White Column Motor Lodge. There were sixteen rooms. Three cars were in the lot and one belonged to the night manager.
Room eight was currently occupied by two Hispanic males. Enrique Estaban was a tall man, with a look that was more European than Mexican. His features were sharp and angular. Behind his back, his associates called him "The Hawk." His hair was well proportioned and styled. He sat at the one desk, taking apart and cleaning his pistol, a Colt, Woodsman, 22 caliber, rim fired, semi-automatic . This weapon, discontinued in 1977, is still considered the finest small caliber handgun ever made. Enrique caressed it like a living thing.
Jorge Morales was a man who looked more Indian than Mexican. He was short and squat, but very powerful. He was sitting on the only other available place in the room, one of the double beds. He knew to be careful with Enrique, but he was curious.
"Why did you shoot the two Anglo's at the meth lab? I could understand the two guys yesterday. They were dangerous, and had information that could be harmful to the cartel. The two today were no-bodies. The woman was pathetic. Not that it matters, I would just like to know, why kill them?"
Enrique placed the gun down on the table before responding with a total lack of emotion. "Because that's what I do."
 Recognized |
|
List of Characters:
Dax Connor - medically retired from Secret Service
Lael Jackson - 20 year old lady that Dax rescued
Jimmy Dent - Deputy
Sheriff Bailey - Sheriff with some questionable background
Stanley Tate - Deputy
Boudreaux - Local drug kingpin
Beth Jackson - Lael's mother
Alden Bishop - Boudreaux henchmen
Nikki James - Female sheriff deputy
Scott Bunn - deputy
Terry Bunn - deputy (no relation to Scott)
Enrique Estaban - Mexican Cartel member
Jorge Morales - Mexican Cartel member
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Dax Connor - medically retired from Secret Service
Lael Jackson - 20 year old lady that Dax rescued
Jimmy Dent - Deputy
Sheriff Bailey - Sheriff with some questionable background
Stanley Tate - Deputy
Boudreaux - Local drug kingpin
Beth Jackson - Lael's mother
Alden Bishop - Boudreaux henchmen
Nikki James - Female sheriff deputy
Scott Bunn - deputy
Terry Bunn - deputy (no relation to Scott)
Enrique Estaban - Mexican Cartel member
Jorge Morales - Mexican Cartel member
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