The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [115]
A few feet away, the ground started to shift. I made Sara stand behind a tree, then went into a crouch and aimed my Colt at the spot. Buster was kneeling a few feet away, not knowing what to make of the situation. I heard a man’s voice.
“Fuck, this thing is heavy.”
It was Mouse. As I watched, a round piece of earth came out of the ground, and was tossed aside. Then a man popped out of the hole with his back to me. He was covered in shit and smelled like the devil. At his trial, Mouse had played with his own feces to convince a judge he was crazy. It was a perfect metaphor for who he was.
Mouse crawled out of the hole. I couldn’t see his pistol, but felt certain that he was carrying it. I got up right behind him, and pressed my Colt to the back of his head.
“Freeze.”
Mouse stuck his arms into the air. He looked over his shoulder at me, saw Sara and my dog, and knew it was over. He turned around slowly. His pistol was tucked down behind his belt buckle. I reached for it, and he took a step back.
“Where’s my buddy?” Mouse asked.
“Give me your gun,” I said.
“You shot him, didn’t you?”
“Right now.”
“Did you kill him?”
I didn’t answer. But it was answer enough. A look of sadness spread over Mouse’s face. Taking a step forward, he jumped back into the hole.
Sara came out from behind the tree. “Aren’t you going to go after him?”
I shook my head. There was no reason to chase a man who’s run out of road.
A gunshot ripped through the air. I went to the hole and had a look. Mouse lay on the bottom with the pistol stuck in his mouth and the back of his head gone.
It was over.
CHAPTER 61
n ambulance took Sara to a hospital in Daytona for a series of tests. As she was taken into the emergency room, I heard Sara tell the doctors that she was fine, and asked if she could be released. Abduction victims often suffered post-traumatic stress, and I talked her into staying at the hospital until the tests were completed.
A few hours later, Karl Long arrived at the hospital, and came into the hospital’s emergency room hobbling on a cane. I was sitting in the visitor area thumbing through a magazine. I rose from my chair, and Long hugged me like a long-lost brother.
“How’s my baby?” Long asked.
“Your baby is doing fine. We got her just in time,” I said.
“Can I take her home? My private plane is at the airport.”
“You’ll have to talk to the doctors, but I don’t see why not.”
Long made a check appear out of thin air. Something told me that he’d been practicing doing that on the ride up, just to impress me. With a smile he stuffed it into my shirt pocket. “Thank you, my friend,” he said.
I waited until Long had gone back to see Sara before looking at the check. It was for more money than we’d agreed upon. A lot more.
Hey, I’d earned it.
———
Sara was released a few hours later. She was good to go, and I drove her and her father to the airport, and waved good-bye as they stepped on Karl Long’s private plane. Then I drove back to Chatham.
The dairy farm was swarming with police and FBI agents when I returned. I was cleared to enter, and took a walk around the property. Mouse and Lonnie’s bodies had been brought back to the farm, and lay beneath a pair of white sheets on the ground. The police did not appear to be in any hurry to take them away.
I found Linderman standing by a garden behind the house. He’d taken off his body armor, and had an empty coffee cup in his hand. His clothes were streaked with sweat and hung lifelessly off his body.
“Where are they?” I asked.
Linderman pointed at the garden. It was a small plot of land choking with weeds. I hopped over the small fence that surrounded it. The victims’ graves were in the corner, with piles of white rocks for headstones, just like Kathi Bolger’s grave. I checked the rocks, hoping the women’s IDs were there, but there was nothing.
I studied the graves. Four contained the bodies of young women whose identities we knew. The fifth was a mystery. Was it Danny Linderman or