“You want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“You think I was too hard on her,” stated Chief. They had been driving for the last twenty minutes in complete silence. Chief’s eyes were concentrating on the road, while his mind relayed the horror of Kelly’s possible disappearance. 

“I don’t know,” replied the deputy. His attention was also directed towards the road. He spoke without looking at Chief.

“Why don’t you just say it?”

“Chief,” started the deputy. He took a heavy breath then fell silent.

“What?”

“I just feel that scaring the hell out of a kid....” he began again. ”I guess I do think you were a little harsh.”

“The tiger would be a lot rougher.”

“So you said.”

“You think I enjoyed that? That was probably the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life, Mike. Shit! She had to understand. She can’t afford any mistakes.”

“I realize that,” said Mike, thoughtfully. He turned his attention to Chief. “But she thought she was safe with Billy. She didn’t deliberately disobey.”

“She did disobey. She wasn’t in the open,” Chief said to the front windshield. Then he turned to Mike. His eyes were cold. “He could have been in the barn, Mike... waiting.”

“She trusted Billy to look after her.”

“I know that. But Billy is in many ways a child himself. He doesn’t have the instincts to protect himself, let alone Kelly. He has no instincts to kill, Mike, and nothing short of killing will protect my daughter. He’d be as helpless as she would be.”

“Even to save her life?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not counting on it and I’m not betting my child’s life on it.”

The two men rode the rest of the way in silence. Springdale was sixty minutes away; Gables Road was twenty-five minutes south from Springdale. That cut their trip down to thirty-five minutes. They passed the Duncanville intersection and Chief spied the narrow dirt road off to the left. He turned the truck sharply and headed over the sand and gravel, into the lush forest. Loblolly pine, blackberry brambles and poison oak littered the side of the road, encroaching on it whenever possible. Occasionally a large white oak would cut its way through the brown vegetation, its roots jutting out across the road making the driving bumpy and uncomfortable. A blanket of decaying oak leaves smothered the forest floor.

About a mile into the woods, Chief spied the first state cruiser. Moss sat on its hood devouring a sandwich. A second state vehicle was parked directly in front of it followed by two Springdale cars and the black sedan of the County Coroner.

Chief parked at the end of the line of cars, while Moss, remaining on the hood of his car, watched Chief approach.

“Took long enough,” he said. “Rob,” he added because he knew Chief didn’t like that derivation of his name. It reminded Bob Broden of a crime.

“What’s this all about, Merri?”

Moss glared at him, “I told you never to call me that.”

Both men cracked a smile and Chief asked, ”How have you been, Mort?”

Moss popped the last bit of his sandwich in his mouth and rubbed his hands on the front of his shirt. He swallowed and extended Chief his hand. “It’s been too long, Bob. I’m only sorry about the circumstances.”

“If I remember correctly, the circumstances of our last meeting weren’t much different. Only then you were Agent Moss.”

“I’d like to offer up a response to that but... I’m still bitter about the raw deal I got. Maybe after this business is over we can spill our guts over a couple of whiskeys and some beer chasers?”

“Sounds good to me,” stated Chief. “I believe you’ve met Mike,” he added when Mike approached.

“Deputy,” nodded Moss. “Good to see you again.” Then he added, ”Hate to tell you this, lad, but that idiot Mark is here.”

Mike smiled. “Can’t win them all.”

“Of course, that reminds me,” Moss said slipping from the hood of his car. He went to the passenger door, opened it and removed a twelve by nine manila envelope from the seat. “Here’s that report I promised you. I was on my way to hand deliver it when this business broke. I also brought the evidence from the murder scene I’ve withheld from Springdale. I wanted to give you first crack." 

“Whose–” Chief started.

“–Jurisdiction?” finished Moss. He smiled. “Screw jurisdiction, Bob. The scene was outside of Sweetwater Falls about three miles past the old rail-yard. Tire marks led into a clearing.”

“What are you going to tell Sweetwater Falls?”

“That you stole the evidence, my friend.”

Chief laughed.

“It may be their jurisdiction, Bob, but it’s your case. What would you have me do?”

“Do I need to hold a gun to your head?”

Moss laughed. “Not necessary.”

Chief opened the report. While he was skimming it, Moss highlighted the important parts, “We found out his name through the car registration certificate in the glove box. Address and telephone number were listed on some papers in his briefcase. As you know,” he said looking at Mike, “his wallet was taken. We phoned the number and got the wife. After going over the contents in the suitcase on the phone we surmised the outfit Vanderburgh was wearing was a lightweight flannel number- navy-blue with pinstripes. He had phoned the Misses the day before the killing. Seems he had over two-hundred cash and was headed home. She expected him yesterday evening.” Again he looked at the deputy. “He probably told Blackney as much. That’s why Blackney ditched the car.” He returned to Chief. “There was also a case of Irish whiskey he was supposed to have been bringing home with him, present for his boss acquired through a trade, which was missing from the car. There were signs of a struggle at the scene and we found three buttons, probably off the pinstriped suit. Also some gold cuff links and a gray flannel shirt we believe Blackney had been wearing along with his prison blues.”

“Good job, Mort,” replied Chief. “That’s more than we ever found at a scene.”

“He doesn’t have his kid cleaning up after him now,” Moss reminded him.

Chief handed the report to Mike as Moss went to unlock the trunk. He pulled a small box out and extended it to Mike. Mike set the report on top and took the box from Moss. Then Mike returned to the truck. Chief watched as the deputy carefully set it down in the front seat. 

“You trained him well,” Moss said at Chief’s back.

Chief turned. “I didn’t do much. Most of what you saw are his good instincts.”

“I don’t know about that,” countered Moss. “I saw a lot of you in the lad, yesterday.”

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment,” Chief replied.

They waited for Mike to return before heading down the embankment. Upon entering the woods, Moss grabbed Chief’s elbow.

“Bob,” he said, “what you are about to see will be a shock. If you need that scotch before this business is over and someone to drink it with... I’m your man.”

Chief stared at him. “I’ve seen his kills before, Mort,” he replied slowly in a low voice.

“Not like this,” Moss whispered. There was empathy in his eyes. “Jesus, Bob,” Moss said. “I’m afraid it’s personal this time. He even wrote you a note.”

“What?“ Chief asked confused.

Moss tried to reply, but he couldn’t find the words to describe what Chief was about to see. God help him, this was going to rip his heart out, so Moss just shook his head and shrugged. “It’s this way,” he whispered.

Chief glanced at Mike before entering the thick brush, following Moss down a narrow path. The forest floor was marshy; the thick stench of rotting leaves and decay held close to the ground. Armored insects scurried at their footfalls. Gnats buzzed in thick clouds around their heads as they walked on, careful not to slip on the moist black earth. After a few minutes the forest broke away into a clearing. Chief recognized the spot he and Fred had built a fort, so many years ago. A lifetime ago. Off to the right, rotted-cut boards still clung to the trees they had nailed them to. Fungus, lichen and moss grew thick on them; beetles buzzed wildly among the decayed wood, darting in and out of the wormholes.

The body lay at the other end of the clearing. Three law officers in Springdale uniforms blocked Chief’s view. Two of Mort’s men stood to the side of them, and the coroner was bending over the body. He looked up as Chief approached. “Bob,” he said nodding, drawing Chief’s attention to him. 

“Charley,” Chief answered nodding back. “Is it the same–” he began as he glanced towards the ground. In that instant he realized Moss had tried to prepare him. But nothing could have prepared him for what he looked upon now. He felt the wind knocked out of him. The trees began to spin wildly as he attempted to get a grip; his eyes never leaving the sight before him. The blur around him obscured his surroundings until nothing in his world was in focus- except the body. Every detail stood out– every bruise, every contusion, every bloodstain; the broken flesh and bone ... and the eye-less face, smashed beyond recognition. He was failing at his attempts to gain control, to stop the mad spinning, so he turned away to catch his breath.

He stared at the decaying leaves on the forest floor. His mouth felt dry and his head began to buzz. He again noticed the few remaining boards of the fort build decades ago. He walked mindlessly over to the boards, conscious only of the buzzing in his head. His ears now felt hot and his eyes stung.

“Jesus Christ,” he heard his deputy say behind him, but it sounded miles away. How could he have done it? My god, there was nothing left of Fred now. No human being could have done that! How could you do that goddammit!

“Chief!”

Somebody was calling through the buzzing in his head. He felt arms around his shoulders, pulling him. Pulling him where? To look again? Fuck no!

“Chief!” 

It was Mike. He sounded closer.

“Damn it Chief! Look at me!”

Chief turned and faced Mike. He started to breathe again. The buzzing in his head cleared, as did his vision. The trees stopped spinning and he was able to swallow. When he came out of it he realized he was standing on the boards of the old fort, now shattered and submerged in the muddied ground.

“What?” he said in a barely audible whisper.

“Oh shit, Chief,” Mike answered back.

“What happened,” Chief asked again, confused.

“You saw her,” Mike started. “Then you started smashing the shit out of these boards yelling ‘how could you do that,’ over and over.”

Chief regarded the deputy for a long moment. Then he turned to look behind him, at the faces that stared back at him. Chief pushed his way clear of Mike and returned to the murder site.

“You don’t–” Mike started behind him.

“Yes, I do,” Chief answered as he crossed the clearing, his stride unwavering.

“I tried to tell you, Bob. I’m so sorry, I just couldn’t–” Moss broke off, the empathy unmistakable in his eyes.

“I understand,” Chief told him. He scanned the faces of the Springdale officers. “Which one of you is Mark?”

“I am,” answered a confident looking officer standing in the middle.

“Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?”

“Now look here–”

“I looked already.”

“Yeah, I saw. If you don’t have the stomach for the job–”

“Shut up, Mark,” Moss quipped, the force of his words did not come from volume.

“This is still our jurisdiction, Moss. It isn’t even yours, now. This did not happen on the highway.”

“Shove it, Mark,” Moss replied in the same tone as before.

Before Mark could respond the coroner waved them all silent. He looked up at Chief Broden. “Are you up to looking at this, Bob?” he whispered compassionately.

“Give it to me, Charley. Don’t hold anything back.”

“All right,” Charley sighed. He continued in a clinically dry voice, “What we have here is a white female, approximately ten years in age. I have no idea what color her eyes were... we can guess though, can’t we?”

Chief swallowed audibly and nodded.

“Let’s see,” continued the coroner. “Blond hair, shoulder length, she’s about four feet tall, slight in frame, about forty pounds. So much for the description. The wounds now... Are you sure?” he asked again.

Chief was staring at the body. His face had turned white upon his first view and the color had not yet returned. It was the blond hair- same length as Kelly’s. This child could be Kelly. The similarities were that pronounced. If it hadn’t occurred while Kelly was still in full view he would have driven to a phone on the spot. But Kelly was safe with Dobbs, he hoped.

“Go on, Charley. I’m listening.”

“The wounds are for the most part similar to the depot killings. She was literally torn apart- her face, body. Her ribs were completely caved in. Many bruises on the inside of her thighs. For the most part he used his hands to do the damage. But in several instances a knife was used.”

“A knife?” asked Chief. “But that’s not his MO.”

“I realize that,” said Charley. “There must have been a reason for the knife.”

“Was she,” Chief started in a low voice, ”sexually abused?”

“Yes,” answered the coroner, “first with the assailants genitals, there’s semen. When he was through, he used this.” Charley produced a pair of alligator clamps from his lab coat pocket. With them he picked up the knife from where it had been lying next to the body. "He cut her insides up pretty good with this... he also used that to write you the note... in the girl’s blood.”

“What note?” Chief asked. He noticed the expression on his deputy’s face out of the corner of his eye and turned to face the younger man. ”What is it, Mike?”

“The knife, Chief,” stated Mike.

“What about it?”

“I’m sure it’s the one...” Mike whispered.

Chief looked at it more closely. It was a hand-fashioned knife whose blade looked like it had been beaten flat. The end was treated with flame and was charred black. It was about five inches in length and narrow.

“What one?”

“Chief,” began Mike. He had been staring at the blade and the body. He now turned to look into Chief’s face. “Chief, it’s the knife Huey had yesterday. He made it at the Springdale Home. My god, Chief, he had it yesterday. I’m sure of it.”

“How’d Blackney get it? You think he met up with Huey?”

“You don’t understand, Chief. It was left behind, yesterday. Hank knocked it out of Huey’s hand. It was left behind.”

Chief looked away and back at the body. “He was in the woods,” he whispered.

“He had to have been.”

“She almost ran into the woods, Mike. If you hadn’t stopped her...”

Chief looked again at the body in front of him. It could have been Kelly. It was intended to be Kelly.

“That’s four I owe you, Mike,” Chief whispered loud enough for only the deputy to hear.

Again the Middleton Police returned their attention to the coroner.

“I’d like a full report, Charley,” Chief whispered.

“Now just a minute–” began Mark.

“You’ll get it, Bob,” Charley answered cutting Mark off.

“What about the note?” Chief asked looking at the coroner. “Mort said it was addressed to me?”

Charley put the knife in an envelope and sealed it. He used his alligator clamp to pull a piece of paper from a second envelope. He handed it to Chief Broden by the clamp.

Chief held the paper before his eyes and read:

Only with the Power

Dare we look into the fog

To cut out the cancer of the evil doers,

And destroy the Hell-Dog of beyond this world.

Only with Her  power,

I can succeed to save us all,

Bobby Boy

Chief looked up and handed the paper back to the coroner. He noticed everyone’s attention was directed at him.

“What’s it mean,” asked Mark of Springdale.

Chief regarded the man. He kept all emotion out of his response. “It means he plans to do the same thing to my ten year old daughter.” Chief paused. His expression sharpened, but his eyes never left Mark’s. “Still think this is your case?”

For the first time since the discovery of murder in Springdale, Mark realized what was happening. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t realize.”

“No harm,” Chief replied curtly and he turned away. He stopped short of his progress towards the fringe of trees, and turned back to the coroner. “Anyone know who she was?” he asked indicating the body.

It was Mark who answered back. “We had a missing person fit her general description. Missing since about nine this morning.”

“Since about nine?” Chief asked. He shot a hard look at the coroner. “Time of death?” Chief asked trying to fathom the time necessary to inflict the amount of damage done to the girl.

“Eleven-fifteen, Bob,” he admitted. “She died just minutes after we got here.”

“I see,” Chief sighed. Then he turned to Mike. “Get the hounds down here, Mike. It might be the freshest scent we’re likely to get.” He turned to Mark. “How’d you find her?”

“We got a tip.”

“Blackney?”

“We assume.”

Chief nodded. ”I want everything he said on the phone put into the report.”

“Okay.”

Chief turned to Moss. ”You game to track?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Wait a minute,” Mark broke in. ”This is still our jurisdiction.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” replied Chief, “but if you think I’m going to back off, you’re crazier than that son-of-a-bitch out there. My little girl’s life is at stake, Mark.”

Mike returned with the dogs and the flannel shirt Moss had brought with him. The dogs were anxious, straining at their harnesses and dragging Mike behind them. When they arrived at the scene they went berserk. The smell of blood was oppressive.

Chief strode up to Mike and relieved the deputy of four of the six hounds. He gave two of his four to Sergeant Moss. Then all three men pulled the pack together to allow them to smell the shirt and learn the scent they were to trail. After their noses were saturated with the scent on the shirt, the three men led them to the body and then to surrounding area. The scent at the scene was overcast by the smell of the blood, but after a few minutes and some whining from the dogs, the lead dog had the trail. He brayed to the others and began straining towards the woods.

© Copyright 2025 C J Driftwood. All rights reserved.