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Monday, March 29, 2021

BODY COUNT: Killers (a novel):
Chapter 42. Crosshairs

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Rainbow flew down the road on his way back to the mill. His job, now that the killer was caught, would be to protect his cover story, and the sooner he warned Kirk, packed his clothes, and hit the road, the better off he would be.
    When Kirk saw Rainbow race through the gates and on to the shed, he looked back down the road to see who was chasing him. No one was to be seen there, but when Rainbow hurriedly jumped off the motorcycle, Kirk rushed to join him.
    Rainbow threw open the half-closed doors of the shed, hoping to find a tarp to throw over the motorcycle. He grabbed one that was spread across the work table next to where the bike had been parked for years. The tarp dragged a couple of shoe boxes and a hammer off the table, and they fell onto the dirt floor.

    “What the hell happened?” asked Kirk.
    Somewhat faking being out of breath, Rainbow said, “The sheriff’s been arrested for the murders by the railroad track. I was at his house when they came for him – two Feds, that black guy and a white one. I was lucky as hell they let me go. I’ve got to get out of here. If they put that motorcycle and me together, I’m dead meat. They’ll run a background check and find that Mississippi warrant for my arrest.”
    Kirk’s expression seemed to indicate that he was trying to put this information together, to figure out why they might think Ted had killed anyone. He looked down the road again and said, “I’ll get you some cash and have one of our people drive you across the State Line. Come to the house once you have your stuff togeth—”
    Kirk stopped abruptly when he noticed what Rainbow was doing. The lid on one of the boxes that had fallen off the table had popped off and Rainbow had two handfuls of photos that had spilled out onto the dirt floor – photos of mutilated bodies.
    Rainbow looked up at Kirk and said quietly, “It wasn’t the sheriff, was it?”
    A gun appeared in Kirk’s hand, seemingly from nowhere. “That was a very big mistake, trying to put those boxes back.”
    Rainbow dropped the photos and raised his hands, his eyes searching calmly for something to use as a weapon. The only thing he could see was the hammer, which he had stupidly left on the floor.
    Kirk’s voice had a sadness to it when he said, “Get over to that upright support beam and put your arms around it.” From a bag, he removed tiedown straps that police use in place of handcuffs when confronted with a large number of arrests. With one hand he slipped each opening over Rainbow’s fists and pulled the straps tight around his wrists. He then removed a roll of duct tape from the same bag and ripped off a 4-inch piece, which he put over Rainbow’s mouth. With the full roll of tape, he wrapped Rainbow’s legs, going around them and the post several times.
    Kirk dropped the roll back into the bag. “I’m really sorry about this – I liked you a lot. But now I’ll have to kill you. It’ll be tonight.”
    Rainbow strained against the tie-downs and tried to make a noise through the tape, but it was wasted effort. Kirk left the shed and was locking the door when Taylor’s car came cartwheeling into the lumber yard and did a half-donut turn within 20 feet of Kirk. Wayne came out from around the passenger door and dropped to one knee, his revolver aimed at Kirk’s chest.
    Kirk still held his own gun. “Kirk Johnson, drop your weapon,” Wayne commanded.
    The sheriff stepped out from the back seat. “Don’t shoot, either of you! Kirk, let’s talk this out – no one has to die today.”
    Johnson’s gun was pointed at Wayne, but now he moved it toward Banks. “It’s a little late for talking, Ted.”
    Banks took a step forward and Johnson raised his gun higher, which stopped Banks in his tracks. “Kirk, we’ve known each other for a lot of years. At one time we were closer than brothers. Please let me help you.”
    Anger came over Johnson’s face as he spit out his next words: “Brothers? You left me to face by myself that hell our fathers arranged for us. There were two niggers, one for you and one for me, and we were to be bound by their blood. But where were you? I had to kill ’em both by myself!”
    Banks released the strap over the hammer of his pistol. “Kirk, why did you kill these others? No one was making you do that. Can’t you see you need help? Those two crazy old men – our fathers – messed up your thinking.”
    Johnson pounded his chest with his gun hand. “I’m the Grand Wizard now! Who else will keep these niggers and wetbacks in line? It’s my job – you would know that if you hadn’t chickened out.”
    To everybody’s surprise, Banks drew his pistol and fired. Johnson’s gun got off a shot as Banks’ bullet tore through his heart, felling him to the ground in a quickly widening pool of blood.
    Banks fell back against the car with a wound in his abdomen. Taylor ran over to Johnson. “He’s dead. How’s the sheriff, Wayne?”
    Wayne was phoning. “I’m calling 9-1-1 – he’s gut shot.”
    Taylor picked up Johnson’s gun with two fingers and stuck it into the trunk of the car. He placed the sheriff's gun next to it, and then bent down and asked him, “Why the hell did you shoot him?”
    Wayne, who had his coat off and was pressing it against Banks’ wound, looked at Banks’ face expectantly.
    Sheriff Banks grimaced from the pain. “I had to shoot. I’ve known Kirk all my life. He was finished talking, and he would have tried to kill both me and your partner here.”
    Taylor stood back up. “Are you sure you just didn’t want him to keep talking?”
    Banks pushed himself up against the car. “Damn, this hurts – it’s the first time I was ever shot.” He took a deep breath. “I told you, he was finished with talking!”
    Taylor knew the debate was fruitless. There was no way to know what had gone on in the minds of the two men. Besides, a killer was dead, and there was no need to muddy the water.
    Wayne adjusted his coat on Banks’ wound as Taylor walked to the shed.
    Taylor thought he heard something or someone inside. He pulled on the lock and then walked back to Johnson’s body and found the keys in his right pants pocket. Back at the double doors, he unlocked them and looked inside. Taylor stood staring into the shed for a long time before he let out a hoot and fell against one of the open doors laughing. “Wayne! You’ll never guess what I just found all taped up like a Christmas turkey.”
    By then some of the mill workers had realized something was going on and were gathering around. Taylor cut Rainbow free and stepped back out. “You men, get back up to the mill! This has just become a crime scene.”
    Rainbow pushed the motorcycle to the front door of the cabin and went in to grab what few clothes he had. When he came out, he immediately started the engine and drove away without saying a word to anyone.
    Deputy Evans was the first official to join the scene, and the ambulance was right behind him.
    Wayne handed Evans his coat, which was soaked with the sheriff’s blood. “Looks like you’re in charge, Bo. You’ll have a chance to turn this county around when all this comes out. I wish you the best of luck.”
    Taylor emerged from the shed. “Deputy, all the evidence you’ll need is in this shed. We’ll forward a copy of our report to you. But with what’s in the shed, and Sheriff Banks’ statement, this case is closed!”


Copyright © 2019, 2020 by Ed Rogers

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