MysteryWriter's Final Spring - Cover

MysteryWriter's Final Spring

Copyright© 2004 by MysteryWriter

Chapter 2

It was cramped in the mini van but I fell gratefully asleep. I slept hard until I heard the ranger's flashlight banging on my window. I looked at my watch in the glow from her light. Of course I couldn't see a thing except the blur. I found my glasses on the stack of boxes beside me. It was 6am exactly as I has requested.

"Hey there ranger," I said it as I opened the door still inside the bag.

"Your wake up call writer. Before I get side tracked, I loved your book. It is really exciting and fast moving. I recognized your voice and that was fun too."

"I do love a fan," I said it with a grin I doubted she saw.

"Well I am a fan. I might come over to Warsaw to see you. Good, bring your cash cause I don't take American Express."

"What time do you close?"

"I think they said six since it is Sunday."

"Then I will try to time it right. I can't keep missing that free meal. I can trade that breakfast for dinner?"

"Sure but you are going to have to pick the place."

I managed to brush my teeth and put on a clean shirt before I left for the day. Showering then walking back to the van in the chilly spring air was out of the question for me. When I turned the switch on the van, nothing happened. Well it did make the grinding starter sound but it wouldn't fire. I got out and bled the fuel injector system, then it started. I made yet another note in my head to buy the right gas lines for the van.

It was cloudy and threatening to rain all day. A few drops even fell, but not enough to ruin my stock. I replaced the lids on the plastic storage boxes at the first sign of rain. I also kept the tarp handy just in case I needed to cover the whole table. I had a feeling that if the fake fur got wet it wouldn't do it a bit of good.

Mercifully the day ended with me and the fur dry. I tried to get packed as quickly as possible before I even gave leaving for the next show a thought. Being just on the show circuit left me a lot of time to kill. Everyone else had a home to go to after the show's end.

"Hi, remember me?" It was the voice that had awakened me that morning which asked it.

"Of course, I was about to send out a search party for you."

"Ah, how sweet. I was afraid that you had forgotten me already."

"Not a chance, I don't meet that many beautiful women on the road." It was a stretch but then what the hell she wasn't a dog either. Body types never did impress me all that much. I found most women to be to some degree heavy or thin. The women with perfect bodies are out there somewhere, I just haven't met very many of them.

"I'm Jennifer, so Writer what do I call you?" She had a pleasant smile on her face. I noticed for the first time that she was almost as tall as me. She had to be at least 5'11". When she wasn't in the polyester pants she didn't look hippy at all. In fact she looked very trim too trim even.

"Well I answer to either Writer or Deke," I replied.

"Geeze Deke sounds so redneck, like a character for that old movie Deliverance."

"Then just call me Writer or anything else you like." I was smiling because when I passed the Mason Dixon line I never used Deke at all.

"Don't you have a real name?"

"Deacon is my real name." I said it smiling up at her from my bent over position rearranging the boxes in my van. "So whatever you want is fine. Now, do you have a restaurant in mind?"

"Yeah, Roaring Red's" She somehow said it with a straight face and also as though it needed no more explanation. Probably for a resident it didn't, but for me it did.

"So what is Roaring Red's and how do I find it."

"Wouldn't you rather I drive?" She asked it looking at the van filled with junk."

"Frankly, I would feel better with all this stuff where I can keep an eye on it. Would you mind being seen in this thing or do you want to just let me follow you."

"I better have you follow, I think I might need to make a hasty retreat. I have a feeling you can be quite persuasive." She did say it with a smile of sorts.

I followed her through the downtown which was just a bit more than the small town USA kind of thing. I had been getting a tour of the rural south on the show circuit. I knew that was gonna change soon. It was early in the season so the small town shows were the only ones. Soon the larger towns would begin their festivals. I chose the larger ones when they were available but the small shows were held at the very first, and very last of the season. I suppose it was because they couldn't compete with the bigger towns for craftsmen or crowds.

Once I entered Roaring Red's I began to feel something crunch under my feet. I looked down but it was too dark to see. Jennifer turned before we were seated, she had noticed my curious look. She said simply, "Peanut shells, you will see."

Before anything else the waitress brought us a glass of water and a metal water bucket of roasted peanuts. Since I have only a dozen teeth left, and they are all in the front, I skipped the nuts. I drank the sweetened iced tea which was excellent. That spoke well for the promise of the large ground beef steak. I waited until Jennifer ordered before I did. I ate the ground up meat due to the afore mentioned teeth or lack there of. I didn't want Jennifer to miss out on a steak because of my dental shortcomings.

"So Jen, tell me about the campground Rape?"

"Nothing to tell Deacon, best anybody could figure the woman was there with her small son. She took him to the bathroom about midnight. He woke up with one of those 'I got to go right now mommy' kind of things. Since the camp site where she was staying was open she took him to the bathhouse. The kid got to watch it. The guy who did it held a gun on them told the kid that if he made any noise his mommy would die before his eyes."

"That was not nice at all," I interjected. I noted that Jen seemed almost irritated by the interruption.

"Anyway it got pretty nasty as the man made lil mommy say and do things a kid shouldn't know about let alone see. He just walked away after. He told the woman not to come out of the house for five minutes as he might be waiting. She walked to the pay phone right outside and called us. We came to made sure it was for real, then called the city police. They came and did their cop things, which did no good.

"Yeah, they would have gotten a million prints from that bathroom. I can't imagine anything of value from the crime scene." I know on TV they find all these cute little clues, but in the real world a crime scene doesn't get vacuumed routinely. I wondered about a car. "Did they ever find out how he got there?"

"No, they woke up every camper out here and made Polaroid shots of them but she didn't recognize anyone. Every space, and every man on every space, was accounted for. It looks as though he just drifted into the campground did his thing and left."

"If you are looking to rape somebody, why the hell go to a campground. It would be my last thought. Did the cops check the people who live on the adjacent road?"

"More pictures and more not hims," she replied.

"They didn't get any hits at all?" I asked it surprised that there wasn't at least one false hit, victims and children make pretty lousy witnesses as a general rule.

"No she was adamant not one of the locals raped her. As you would expect several fit the description but no cupie doll."

I just absorbed the information, I didn't even try to analyze it.

After dinner I left a cash tip, then gave the woman at the register the ole visa card. I had no idea how high the balance would get by the end of the trip, but I expected it to get on up there.

It was pretty near dark and much too late to move on, even if I had wanted to. I followed Jen back to the park. The office was still open so I had the privilege of paying them twelve buck to stay there. Since the card processor was down and I didn't want to wait, I paid them with an assortment of crumpled cash. I paid for only one night. If I stayed, I plan to use the visa for payment.

Again that night I rearranged the boxes to make me a small sleeping spot. I must have been closer to the lake than I had been the night before, since it got chilly in the flannel sleeping bag. I rummaged around by lantern light to find the down comforter. It was less than a hundred percent dawn, but it worked really well when combined with the flannel bag. Besides it was spring in the south, not January in Ohio. I was too tired to process information that night so I slept. I slept until almost noon as a matter of fact.

I hadn't asked if Jennifer was working that night, but I assumed that she wasn't. In any case she didn't stop by to wake me. I hadn't expected her to but then again one can hope.

I didn't quite know what to do with my gear, since I planned to at least read the police reports on the year old rape. Since it was an ongoing case it appeared that I wasn't going to get the locals to cooperate. Even my honorary badge didn't do any good. I hadn't expected it to help, retired cops don't get much respect unless they are home town cops. Plus once they found out I was a writer odds were the mayor couldn't have sprung lose those files for me. Of course it was a moot point since I didn't know the Mayor.

I gave it about a half second's thought then went to the local newspaper. The newspaper was a tiny little store front operation. They even farmed their printing out to a larger paper in the next town. The one thing they did have was a microfilm reader. They also had files of their own paper as well as the larger town next door. I explained to the very young, very blonde woman behind the desk what I was up to. She called someone on the phone no doubt getting permission to show me the microfilm. It didn't seem she was impressed by either my charm or the fact that I was an audio novelist. At least it seemed so at first. As the afternoon wore on with her helping me find the sparse articles, she seemed to warm to both the task and me.

"You know I wonder if the victim would talk to me?" I asked it awkwardly as she stood over me. I had finished with the reader and needed some other way to hold her attention.

"I would say no, but then that is all she can say. Why don't you call and ask?"

The young newspaper lady, named Deloris, looked up the number for me. The rape victim was June Silvers. She informed me that she did not wish to discuss it. With that she hung up on me. I couldn't really blame her for not wanting to relive it.

"So much for that," I said as I stood and stretched. When I stretched I lost my balance then almost crushed Dee as she preferred to be called.

"Are you drunk?" she asked playfully.

"No, I just have really bad balance," I replied shortly.

"Ah I see. My dad had a stroke. After a while he didn't need the cane to walk but he used it anyway so people wouldn't think he had been drinking."

"Not a bad idea," I didn't tell her that I already carried a cane most days.

"Okay Deke, I will make you a deal."

"And what kind of deal do you have in mind?"

"I can get you the police report, at least the original one. I don't know about the later ones."

"And how will you do that?"

"They file all the reports with the records clerk. That one gets filed even if the follow ups don't. Since they claim this is open, the follow up reports might still be in the detective division's file and not in the central file."

"So?" She seemed to know a lot about the interior workings of the local police. They seemed to be about like all the police departments.

"Well, I got a girlfriend who works for the records division. She has gotten me files before, I expect she would again."

"I have a feeling the price is going to be high for this little service?"

"Depends on what you call high. You aren't going to just write a novel based on her statement to the cops are you?"

"No, I am going to do a little checking into it, why?"

"I want to go with you." It was a simple statement. She said it like it wouldn't matter at all to me.

"It would be a total waste of your time. I am not going to have a lot of time to look into it. This is my own version of a book tour."

"I understand that, the articles I send back will be as much about that as the investigation."

"Articles? Nobody is gonna be interested in this crap."

"Oh, you don't know me Deke. I am a hell of a writer, I just need a break. If the first article is a grabber, I can sell the whole series to the group that does our printing. I have sold them things before, I know what they want."

"Okay, I will give you a bunch of honest interviews from the road. You know call you every night. How is that?"

"Yeah, you might call once but that would be about all. No I am going along."

"I expect your boss will have a lot to say about that."

"I doubt it my Dad owns this rag. That is why I am not at a bigger paper."

"Even though I am old enough to be your dad, I'm not. I expect he will not be particularly pleased with you traveling with a man."

"Are you kidding he will be thrilled. He knows I am safest with men." I am pretty dense so it took me a few minutes to figure out what she had meant. I just nodded.

"Tell you what, I am out at the county park. You think about this and if you still want to do it, bring me all the papers you can get on the Silver Rape to either the park tonight or the festival tomorrow. If you do that you can buy yourself a ticket to ride, for a while at least."

"Fair enough, are you staying in campgrounds everywhere you go?"

"I am, but you can stay in motels I expect."

"Oh no Deke, wherever thou goest, I goest to." She gave me a smile meant for a much older woman.

After the newspaper, I spent a couple of hours talking to people in the town. I didn't question them as much as let them talk. In the small town's idea of a supermarket, I met several old men sitting on benches outside. They were talking while the womenfolk shopped. I sat with them a while before I introduced myself.

"You don't look like no writer," The youngest of the old men commented.

"That's what they say every time I send my picture to a publisher."

"Don't get many strangers round here, don't never get no writers," the man continued. "You in town for that festival out at the farmer's market?"

"I sure was, got one more day then it is off to a new place. Anything going on around here worth writing about?"

"Sam over there has a couple of cut up cows I hear tell."

"Gee Whiz man has he ever had one of them mutilated by aliens?" I asked it with a straight face. They were all speechless till I laughed.

"No aliens but we got some pretty strange mexs here. They might have done it then threw the guts around, but nobody has mutilated a cow for years."

"Well, a healthy cow is just not the makings of a novel." I smiled to show it all in good humor. "You guys know anything about that campground rape?" I asked it after a couple of minutes of silence.

"Couldn't have been anybody local. We all pretty much know each other. If it had been June would have knowed him. Had to be somebody from outside." The row of old men nodded their agreement.

"You think so huh?" I asked. I was surprised that the logic in his statement had until that moment alluded me. That simple statement opened up a whole new line of thought. The cops surely came to the same conclusions as the old men.

"Tell me, I cant get the details from the cops and I don't really need the official version. Was it pretty violent, I mean did he harm her?"

"Look writer," He said it with a sneer. "Every woman is hurt in a rape, some get beat and some don't, but they all get hurt." With those words the man stood to go find his wife.

"He is right, but he didn't do well. His kid got raped at the high school couple of years back." He could see the interest in my eye. "Different guy writer, that one was a basketball coach. Some folks say she didn't resist and at the trial they brought in a couple of other students. You know it got real messy before they sent the coach away. Old Amos, he ain't never forgive those that said harsh words agin his Betty."

"I don't reckon I would either." It was the truth and I knew it. It it had been my step brat, there would have been a line of boys waiting to testify. She had outgrown it thank god, but there was a time that even I would have doubted her story.

"Okay writer, I heard that she was raped in front of her kid. The bastard made her beg for it. Told her he would kill the kid right in front of her. She went along. Didn't have a scratch on her they say. No matter what a woman is her kid shouldn't have to see his mamma do those things. They tell me she had to do it all for the prick."

I got the idea, so I didn't press it. I couldn't for the life of me think of anything to ask that wouldn't look like a stranger trying minimize the woman's ordeal. I stood then walked into the store to see what I could buy that came in cans. I had been searching for things that I wouldn't need to refrigerated, when the sheriffs deputy came into the store.

"Pardon me sir, we need to have a few words." At that moment I realized that I had become a suspect in the rape of the silver woman. When you ask questions in a small town, you are a suspect in everything.

"Do we now?" I smiled at the young cop. "How about you call your supervisor so I don't have to tell this but once."

He was on the hand held radio while I continued to look. "Sir, you need to take this a little more seriously."

"It seems you are taking it seriously enough for both of us. You wouldn't happen to know where they keep the canned chili would you?" He didn't smile and I didn't care. The one good thing about camping out was that I didn't have to buy toilet paper, but I did have to buy paper towels.

"Is that your mini van in the parking lot?" The deputy looked toward the parking lot. Of course all he could see was the stacks of styrofoam coolers which blocked the front windows.

"It is indeed? If you want you can search it, so long as you put everything back just like you found it. I felt the slight nausea then my mind took a vacation for a split second. It was not a good thing to happen in front of a cop, especially when we were talking about my van.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I didn't remember it, but I knew for a split second I had a spaced out look on my face and some real hard twitching. Those things only lasted a second. "Yeah just peachy keen. I have a stress related twitch. You are making me nervous."

"Do you need to sit down?" He seemed concerned. It could be that the twitch had gotten worse they said it would.

"No I'm fine." I leaned on the cart as I continued to collect things. Some of them I was sure I didn't need even as I put them into the cart... I knew that I would need to reassess the contents of the cart before I checked out.

I saw the older man in the identical uniform approach. I waited while the younger man met him a few yards away to hold a whispered conference. I moved the cart on down the aisle forcing them to walk a little farther to catch up.

"Good afternoon, Mr..." He let it trail off waiting for me to finish it for him. Instead I handed him my retirement Id, and my driver's license.

"Oh a retired cop. I should have guessed. You could have told that to Steve and saved me a trip."

"No it wouldn't. He would never have given up until he called you in to show how on the ball he is. I just cut through a little of the bs."

"Well, we will never know about that will we. Alright so what were you doing running around town asking about a two year old rape?"

"Well Sarg, I am in town for the festival. I heard about it and thought there might be a story in it. That my friend is all there is to it. I am sure a man of my age does not fit the description of the rapist, since our testosterone level is way below that needed for such a crime. Your officer knew that, and if he asked the men outside they told him what I just did about the festival. There was no reason to do it all twice."

"Mind if I look in your van?"

"Not at all, if you wait till I check out, I will go stand by. If not knock yourself out, but put everything back like you found it. I have photographs of the van as it looks now. I will be shooting it again, if you leave it a mess because you don't like my attitude." I smiled at the two cops.

"Do cops where you are from do that?" The young officer asked.

"Yeah sonny, cops everywhere do that."

"How about you just leave that cart and we do it now?" the sargent asked.

"I won't be but a couple of more minutes. You guys can help if you like." They shook their head in a refusal gesture. I should have hurried but I didn't. They decided to wait outside. Actually the sargent sent the younger man back on patrol. When I walked from the building several minutes later he was waiting for me.

"Okay open the door and let me take a look." I did but only because I needed to put the groceries away. With the cargo door open I slipped one of the four identical black plastic trucks from the van. It was the one closest to the door.

"You don't have to do that." the sargent said as I opened the trunk.

"Sure I do," I began putting the groceries from the cart into the box.

"So take it easy on the small town cops and rural area sheriff's department?"

"I always do, no matter how weak or strong the investigation. By the way I expect that you won't solve this one." He looked down on my bent frame. "It is much to random. If it wasn't a local, and I am sure you would have found anybody local, then it was a drifter."

"Thanks, we all felt that way too."

"Felt, so you just gave up on it."

"You know what I mean it is no longer an active case even though we work on them all till they are solved." His look told me the truth, it wasn't on the back burner, it wasn't even on the stove.

"Any chance it was a lover's game?" I asked it pretty sure of the answer.

"If it wasn't for the kid, we would have run that at her a lot harder. They were both absolutely in shock. Had to see a counselor from Princeton." He noted my confusion. "Not the school, it is a town about ten miles away, and twice the size of this one. The woman there doesn't have enough patients so she does the country rape counseling."

"Is the victim still a patient there?"

"Last I heard she was, but that was a few months ago. Either way she has been at it over a year, hardly the act of a pretender."

"True," I said in agreement.

"You done searching?" I asked it as I reached for the cargo door.

"I was done in the store, just had to go through the motions for the kid."

"Aint they just wonderful?"

"Well we was all kids like that once."

"Not me I was born a full growed cop." I laughed along with him.

At the park I signed in for a space, then rearranged the back of the van. I removed the tent first then all the items that made it work. In my case I hated the idea of a ripped floor so I put down a blue tarp, then an old quilt from goodwill. Only after I had the padded floor did I erect the tent. The eight by ten cabin tent went up easily. I had replaced the plastic tent stakes which wouldn't penetrate Carolina clay with the foot long gutter spikes. Even with the improved tie downs a strong wind would topple the cloth house.

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