The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [72]
To Long’s right was a clearing filled with tree stumps. In the middle of the clearing stood Mouse and the giant with their shirts off. The navy Jeep Cherokee was parked behind them, and had a camouflage tarp covering its roof.
The giant was swinging a tree limb in his hands like a Louisville Slugger, and was preparing to bash Long’s skull in. He had a perfectly round, childlike face, the skin soft and without lines. Living on the beach, I’d seen plenty of muscle heads, and none had held a candle to this guy. He had muscles on his muscles.
Buster went low to the ground, and emitted a menacing growl. The giant checked his swing and glared at my dog.
“Bad dog,” the giant said.
Buster sprang forward and let out a vicious bark. The giant jumped back in fear and dropped the limb to the ground.
“Bad dog,” he said again.
The giant talked like a little kid. It occurred to me that he wasn’t the one I should be focusing on. His partner was the problem.
I shifted my attention to Mouse. He was small and emaciated. His sunken chest was covered in crude ink tattoos that told me he’d done time in the federal pen. He was holding the Glock, and was aiming it directly behind him at the front seat of the Jeep.
“Drop your gun, or I’ll kill the girl,” Mouse said.
I looked inside the Jeep. Sara Long sat in the passenger seat. She was tied up, and had duct tape over her mouth. Her beautiful face was distorted with fear. Her terrified eyes locked onto mine.
I cursed myself. I should never have let Long come along for the ride. In all my years hunting down missing kids, I’d never let a parent do that. I’d let the money Long had given me cloud my judgment, and now I was paying for it.
I took a step back without lowering my Colt.
“Drop your gun right now, or she’s history,” Mouse said.
I saw the giant pick up the limb from the ground, and rest it on his shoulder. He was going to smack Karl right in the back of the head with it.
“Not happening,” I said.
I aimed at a tattoo directly above Mouse’s heart. Fear flashed across his eyes.
“You want to cut a deal?” Mouse asked.
“What kind of deal?”
“Back up with your fucking dog, and we’ll leave and not kill the girl or her daddy.”
“Nobody will die?”
“That’s right. You have my word.”
I trusted Mouse about as far as I could kick him. If I backed up out of the forest with Buster, the giant was going to bash Karl.
“Make your friend get in the car first,” I said.
Mouse flashed a crooked smile. “Lonnie, get in the Jeep.”
“Don’t I get to kill him?” Lonnie asked, sounding disappointed.
“No. Get in the Jeep, and strap yourself in. We’re leaving.”
“But I want to smash him.”
“Now!”
Lonnie pouted and tossed the limb to the ground. He opened the back door of the Jeep, and stuffed his enormous body into the backseat. He fumbled getting the seat belt to work.
“Start backing up,” Mouse said.
I glanced at Sara, and saw tears flowing down her cheeks. All I could think of was poor Naomi Dunn, and how I’d let her down eighteen years ago.
“I’m sorry, Sara,” I whispered.
I clicked my fingers for Buster. He came to my side, and I hooked my finger through his collar. Together, we backed up out of the forest.
Once Mouse was out of eyesight, I heard him get into the Jeep, and start up the engine. Then he and the giant and Sara were gone.
CHAPTER 35
omeone once said that the most pitiful sound in the world was a man crying. Karl Long certainly proved that to be true.
He cried as Mouse and Lonnie drove away. He continued to cry when I cut him down, and laid him on the ground. His foot was a bloody mess, and I searched the campsite for something to turn into a bandage.
“I fucked up,” Long sobbed.
I wasn’t going to argue with him. Left to do my job, I would have rescued Sara and brought a pair of killers to justice. Instead, I was back to square one.
I did not find anything resembling a bandage. Not wanting to see him bleed to death, or go into shock, which a loss of too much