Hunter (3 page)

SIX

Hunter

           
The
drive out to my hunting cabin was uneventful. The sun was shining, it was warm,
and I was ready for some fun. The distractions of the night before had been
entertaining, but the pleasure was fleeting. I had hopes that my prey this
weekend would give me enough of a challenge to allow the enjoyment to carry me
through the week. If not, I would be severely disappointed.

           
My
phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. “Hey, Honey,” I said, surprised every
time I spoke that she couldn’t see right through my faithful husband act. But
she wasn’t overly bright. “What’s going on?”

           
“Just
wondering about your plans for Sunday night. The Peterson’s next door invited
us for supper and cards.”

           
It
was likely that my hunting trip would not take that long. “I think that should
work. I’ll give you a call when I’m done this weekend.” My hunting weekends
were passed off as working at the cabin or just taking a break from everyday
life. She never came with me. Had never even asked if she could join me. If I
had a particularly boring or aggravating week, I would take a long weekend and
pass it off as a business retreat. She never checked up on me.

           
“Sounds
good. See you Sunday. Love ya!” She ended the call brightly, and made me want
to strangle her through the connection. How she kept her simple mind so
entertained and cheerful, I would never know. What she found entertaining bored
me to tears.

           
My
heart rate increased as I turned my thoughts to the boy at my cabin. He’d had
food and water available within reach, but he would have had to use it
sparingly to make it last through the week. If he were smart, he would have
energy for the hunt. If not, he might still have enough desperation to make the
weekend exciting. The challenge would be steering him away from the other
cabins, which would likely have occupants on a weekend as nice as this.

           
I
had taken care to set traps around the borders of my ‘arena’ so those inside
would have a hard time getting out; but if they were lucky, they could still
escape. One man had gotten past the border, but he hadn’t made it out of the
woods. I had ended that game more quickly than I’d wanted, but his reaction to
being made to sink ankle deep into the seemingly solid ground had been
priceless. The scream of fear, and the pain he’d been in when his body kept
moving passed his feet… it was enough to bring a smile to my face, even weeks
later.

           
Nobody
knew where my cabin was. It took only an hour to get there from my house, but
by circling and making sure nobody was following, the trip took a little longer.
After the hunt this weekend, it would be necessary to come up again to prepare
the next participant. There was never a plan for who was next, so I’d have to
hit the trails again to see who showed up.

           
But
that was for a later date. For now… well, there was a guest who needed some
attention.

           
The
boy cringed into a corner when I opened the door to the small dark cellar, his
eyes blinking away tears flowing either from fear or sensitivity to the light
that flooded in. My heart rate increased in anticipation and my mouth turn up
into a smile. He flinched away when I spoke in a deep voice, “Are you ready to
play?”

SEVEN

Jason

           
I didn’t bother checking in with Joe
before hitting the trails. Technically speaking, I wasn’t scheduled to work
today anyway, and after the scene yesterday… well… a little space from the
boss-man was needed. Hopefully by Monday his mood would improve and I’d be able
to catch him up. Maybe he will have even forgotten about the confrontation.

           
The
trails were busier than they had been the night before—not too surprising for a
beautiful Saturday morning. I passed several hikers who all smiled and gave a
little wave, which I returned. It took less than an hour to get back to where
I’d been the night before, probably due to being able to see this time. There
were a few hunting cabins scattered throughout the woods, and the plan was to
approach the edges of the properties only to determine if anyone was inside,
staying concealed in the woods to avoid being seen by the owners.

           
Kneeling
and settling my hand into the loose dirt near the side of the trail, I closed
my eyes in concentration and let tendrils of my awareness travel through the
ground. There were fifteen people within the two or so miles that I could
reach, none of whom were acting strangely. One was running, but when I traced
back to see if he was running from something, there was nothing. Either he was
running for fun or, if he was being chased, the person was still too far away
for the reach of my abilities.

           
The
runner changed direction and soon disappeared from my awareness. Since there
was still no indication of anyone chasing him, I pulled back and rose. I sighed
and brushed the dirt off my hands, onto my jeans. All of the other people so
far had behaved like typical hikers. Nothing out of the ordinary and nothing to
indicate they were involved in anything nefarious.

           
It
was probably time to stop for the morning. I hadn’t gotten a call back from my
contact—or more accurately Joe’s contact—at the police station, and would have
to call them again. Hopefully seeing any files they had would be more useful
than randomly wandering wooded trails hoping to spot something out of the
ordinary.

           
The
call came in as I was exiting the woods. “You can come look at the files. They
cannot be taken out of the department.”

           
“Thanks,
Sheila.” She hesitated, so I asked, “Was there something else?”

           
The
records room attendant seemed grateful that I had asked. “Since you mention it,
yes. We’ve had other cases brought to our attention recently. Three young men
who all disappeared either on their way to school or work. I set the files with
the report about Shawn Henderson for you.”

           
Three
more? “What happened to the other three?”

           
I
could almost hear the muscle in her jaw twitch. “They were found anywhere from
a week to three weeks later. The information is in the files.”

           
“Okay…”
Allowing the subject to rest, I continued, “I’ll be there within fifteen
minutes. Thanks.”

           
She
ended the call and I slowly slid my phone into the pocket of my jeans. They’d
been found dead. That much was clear. She wouldn’t have been so hesitant
otherwise. But were they actually connected?

           
Ignoring
the group of hikers that just entered the trail, I rushed out to my car. If
this was a serial kidnapping and murder case, there was no way I could work it
by myself. An actual kidnapping case was a little out of my depth as it was,
let alone what Sheila had mentioned.

           
If
I discovered a more solid link between cases in those files, Joe would have to
help me. His contacts in the police department were more solid. I got by with
Sheila, but the patrol cops Joe knew were suspicious of me, because of my lack
of background. They didn’t like that I was skittish around cops, or that they
knew nothing about my past. Joe stopped pushing me once he found out I’d been
on the streets. The cops hadn’t.

           
Sheila
called back about five minutes before I reached the station. “By the way, just
a word of warning: Nickels is here today.”

           
Scott
Nickels, generally considered a nice guy, was pretty new to the department, and
happened to be one of the worst when it came to leaving my past alone. He could
never take the hint that I just wanted to take care of whatever I was working
on and get out. “Can I sneak past him?”

           
Her
sympathy showed in her response. “Not a chance. He’s working at the check-in
counter today. He has paperwork to do, but he will definitely be aware that
you’re in the building.”

           
I
sighed, resigned to the fact that he would be asking me questions, possibly
even finding an excuse to come down to the records room to continue asking them
while I tried to work. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll just have to deal, I guess,”
I huffed in annoyance.

           
“Just
thought you should know. See ya in a few.”

           
This
time I disconnected and slapped the steering wheel. Questions about my past
were among my least favorite things. Memories of my past were much worse, and
were always brought up by the questions. I rubbed at the exposed scars on my
arm, eternally grateful that the injuries on my neck had not left noticeable
scars. The two small burn scars were on either side of my Adam’s apple, but I’d
been told that if someone didn’t know to look for them, they would go
unnoticed.

           
So
far that held true for the people I had met here. I’d been hiding the scars on
my arms, only exposing them when I was by myself or with Sam, so nobody should
suspect that they exist. But I’d have to keep my jacket on in the records room
today, in case Nickels decides to join me. Sheila always left me alone to look
through files, so I would normally be able to remove the jacket in the
sweltering room, but I have no desire for the young cop to see anything that
would raise even more questions.

           
Sam
was unaware that any of the scars on my arms were self-inflicted, and I wanted
to keep it that way. I let him believe that Mason had been the cause of all the
cuts along my arms, and he was young enough not to know the difference in the
age of those scars compared to the newer ones.

           
A
few minutes later I pulled up to the station and found a parking space. Before
I walked in, I took a deep breath and prayed Nickels would leave me alone.

           
“Sheila,”
I walked to the desk. “Good day?”

           
“Uneventful
so far. You?”

           
The
conversation was purely for Nickels’ benefit, since we’d exchanged pleasantries
over the phone earlier, but it allowed us to establish conversation that didn’t
include him, and I was grateful for it. “Just need to take a look at that file
Joe was asking about.” Another screen. Nickels knew I hadn’t received my PI
license yet, but if I were just being a gofer, he wouldn’t argue.

           
“Is
it an active case file?” he interrupted, sounding more curious than annoyed.

           
“Missing
person,” I answered tensely, trying to hide my natural reaction to male
authority figures. My normal desire was to ignore them or run away. He wasn’t
old enough to make me afraid, but I could still feel a hesitation to make any
kind of connection with him. “The mother wants us to take a look.”

           
“Which
case?” his head was tilted slightly, a slight frown on his face.

           
His
expression made me hesitant to answer. The police sometimes get upset when a PI
starts poking around in their cases, and conflict with this department was the
last thing I needed. “Shawn Henderson. Seventeen-year-old. Went missing last
week.”

           
Nickels
nodded, apparently recognizing the case. “We couldn’t find anything to prove
foul play. Have you yet?”

           
“Nothing
but the fact that, by all outward appearances, this kid had nothing to run
from. His mother seems to care, and he was doing well in school.”

           
The
frown was back on the young officer’s face and his dark eyes narrowed slightly.
“I can’t stop you from looking,” he admitted. “But if you find anything that
could lead to Shawn’s whereabouts, let us know. Same if you find proof of foul
play. Make sure your boss knows that too.”

           
With
a nod, I allowed Sheila to take my ID in exchange for a visitor’s badge, and
she led me down to the records room. “He didn’t seem too bad today,” she said,
her cheerful voice sounding forced. “Didn’t ask you anything personal, at
least.”

           
She
wanted to. It was clear by her tone
and the fact that she kept sneaking glances at me when she thought I wasn’t
looking. Thankfully, at least so far, she was hesitant to ask. Maybe she
thought I would stop talking to her, or maybe she really didn’t want to know.
Some people were like that. Would act as though they wanted to know all the
deep dark secrets someone held, and then be completely unprepared to deal with
the knowledge. “Nope,” I answered noncommittally.

           
“The
files are…?” I let the question dangle as I glanced around the room as if in
search of them.

           
“Right,”
she sighed. “Over here. I put them on the table for you already, but you’ll
have to sign the register that you looked at them.”

           
After
I signed, she stood around for a moment. Sheila watched me open the files, and
then she walked away, apparently deciding I wasn’t going to converse anymore.
My relief was instant, and the tension I always felt around the police seemed
to melt away. Nothing I’d done in the past would be cause to arrest me, but how
much would they appreciate the fact that I’d killed two men a few years ago? If
they found out who I was and where I came from, it wouldn’t take much for them
to discover what had happened in my past.

           
It
was time to focus on the present, so I looked at the file on Shawn Henderson.
The missing person’s report had been filed the day Shawn hadn’t returned home,
so apparently his mother was quick on the uptake. I would have thought she’d
have filed it the next day at least, in case he’d simply gone to a friend’s
house without telling her. What had made her believe so quickly that he was
missing?

           
The
reports on his friends told me that Shawn was a good kid, even by their
accounts. Ready at a moment’s notice to help with tutoring or volunteer for
student functions. It was rare that he’d get home before eight at night.

           
The
report had been filed at ten. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. How would she
have known he was in trouble? I read though her statement carefully, almost
missing a line in the middle. She’d received a call that had made her panic.
Why would there have been no follow through on the phone call? If someone had
threatened her or her son, wouldn’t the cops have figured it out?

           
For
once I wasn’t annoyed when Nickels entered the records room. “Officer Nickels,”
I called out. “May I ask a question?”

           
He
glanced at me, obviously surprised I was the first to speak. It was not the
normal way our interactions went. “Sure. What’s up Jason?”

           
Explaining
my confusion about the seemingly threatening phone call my client had received,
he came over to glance through the file. “Here,” he said, pointing it out while
I struggled to hold myself still and not back away as he leaned in near me. “We
had someone dig up the number, and it was one of Shawn’s friends. They figured
it was a prank.”

           
“A
prank that turned out to be pretty accurate,” my voice clearly conveyed my
disbelief. “She got a phone call and only a few hours later her son was
missing. Does that really sound like a prank to you?”

           
Nickels
looked a little aggravated now. “We did talk to the kid who owns the phone,
Matthew Slauch. He seemed genuinely upset that his friend was missing after he
made such an ill-advised call. He apologized over and over during his
interview. Believe it or not, Jason, we are pretty good at what we do.”

           
I
held up my hands, finally backing away from Nickels a bit. “I didn’t mean
anything by it. Just wanted clarification on why she would have filed a police
report only two hours later than what he would have normally been home. Seemed
a bit unusual to me.”

           
He
nodded and looked at me in confusion, “Why’re you wearing a jacket? It’s like
ninety degrees in here.”