The Killers Amongst Us: Chimera Dawn Chronicles (20 page)

IT
was hot. Too hot for comfort.

“Damn,” Shaw said, and slapped the steering wheel.

The AC had stopped working in his car. Gyp panted hard in
his ear, resting his paws on the top of both front seats. Banging the control
panel with his fist had no effect. He pressed the controls to wind down the
windows. A welcome blast of air cooled him down, but the heat of the day was
still overpowering. He took of his Stetson, dropped it onto the passenger seat,
and wiped the beads of sweat from his brow. As he drove on, he saw the row of
mailboxes that marked his turning. He eased off on the accelerator, braked,
then turned left onto the gravel track to his destination. Amy haunted his
thoughts, and now his body reacted with the anticipation of what he may find.
His gut bloated as if wanting to explode. He pulled up and parked just before
the entrance to Ted’s cabin. An old guy was struggling to fire up his lawn
mower, pulling hard on the cord. The old man was leaning over and holding his
back as Shaw climbed out of his seat. He strolled over to him.

“Howdy, Sheriff. I was just about to call 911 for some help
with this damn thing,” he said, and bellowed out a laugh. “Only joshing ya.
What can I help ya with?”

“I’m looking for a cabin rented by someone called Jamie. He
runs a car wreck yard in LA.”

“Hell, they comes and goes all the time. Can’t say as I know
him.”

“What about Ted Carter and his dog.”

The old guy clutched at his stomach and stooped. Unsteady on
his feet, he held onto the mower handle.

“Jesus, damned bacon’s not sitting well.” He straightened up
and took a deep breath. “Thank God, it’s passed. Ted, yeah, I seen him all
right, but not since Sunday. He keeps himself to his self. As for his damn dog,
can’t say I’ve heard it barking these past few days. Sick of the damn thing
escaping. Scares the hell outta the wife it does.”

Shaw reached down and grasped the handle to the mower cord.
He rested his boot on the blade cover and pulled hard on the chord. The engine
roared to life.

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

“No problem, have a nice day. Mind if I leave my car here?”

“Sure, no problem. Ain’t no one around here’ll mess with
your car. Least not while I’m here,” the old man said in a raised voice over
the throaty rumble of the engine.

Shaw walked over to his car. His intention was to open the
back door for Gyp to join him. It would be as hot as a furnace inside, even
with the windows open. There was no need. Gyp scrambled through the open window
and onto the gravel track. Shaw crunched on over the gravel and up the slope to
Ted’s cabin. The hardware store van was parked out front of the cabin. Mike sat
on the porch steps, tossing shards of gravel at nothing of any note. He
scrambled to his feet.

“You seen Ted on your travels? Only I’m done waiting,” Mike
said

“He’s been delayed. He’ll catch you later. Have you set the
security?”

“No point until he knows how it all works,” said Mike. “That’s
me gone.”

Mike jumped in his van. His wheels span on the gravel as he
turned. Music blurted through his open window. Shaw approached the front door.
He offered the key to the lock, but his hand trembled. He knew that it wasn’t a
lack of alcohol. Shaw realized it was an attack of apprehension. His chest
tightened. He didn’t know what to expect. All he hoped was that he’d find
something to help him to locate Amy. He took a lungful of air, steadied himself,
and placed the key in the lock. As he turned the handle, Gyp jumped up, hitting
the door with his front paws and it opened. Shaw followed him inside and into
the living room. Gyp charged around the room, his tail wagging, and with his
nose sweeping the floor. Shaw wondered if Amy’s scent could have lingered. He
walked on through to the locked door in corridor. His mind raced as he fished
out the key on the neck chain from his pocket. He imagined the locked room
containing anything from a stash of cocaine, to a bank of computers for cloning
credit cards. He placed the key in the lock and grasped the handle. The door
was stiff on its hinges and creaked open.

His eyes popped. The room was empty, save for an old desk
with steel legs, and a single drawer. He scratched the hairs on his head. There
was nothing on the walls and no carpet. Just closed blinds at the window. He
walked over to the desk and opened the drawer, but it was empty.

Shaw ambled through to the bedroom. For the second time, his
skin crawled at the thought that Amy had slept there with him. He put it out of
his mind to concentrate on the task in hand and rummaged through the closet,
careful to leave things as he found them. With nothing found, he turned his
attention the nightstand drawers, but there was nothing of interest. He was
beginning to think it was a waste of time. Gyp barking and scratching caught
his attention, and he swung around. He hurried to the living area.

“What is it, Gyp? What have you found?” He was scratching at
the rug in front of the wood burning stove. “Stop it now. If you damage
anything before we get the warrant, I’m screwed.”

He took a hold of Gyp by his collar and ushered him into the
kitchen. Gyp broke free and ran back into the room, pawing at the rug.

Shaw knelt and pulled at the rug. It lifted at the edges,
but it was stuck to the floor. Folding the rug back further, revealed the
outside edge of what could be a trapdoor. He noticed a short wooden floorboard,
maybe only six inches long, with no sign of it being nailed. He scratched with
his fingernails and removed the short plank. Underneath there was a metal clamp
secured by a padlock. He knew there wasn’t a key for a padlock on his key ring.

“Well done Gyp.”

Shaw moved around the room checking the drawers for the key
and ran his fingers on the top of a diner cabinet. The wall-safe with Ted’s
hunting rifle didn’t need a key. It was fastened with a combination lock. He
turned his attention to the kitchen, but there was still no sign of a key.
Opening a kitchen cabinet door, he found a toolbox and dragged it out onto the
floor. He picked up a claw hammer, but thought better of it and dropped it back
in the toolbox. Shaw stood and looked out of the kitchen window. He noticed a
garden shed at the bottom of the yard. He turned the catch on the cylinder lock,
opened the door and strode over to the shed. Stepping inside, he rummaged
around, but all he found was rusty garden tools. On his way back to the cabin,
he stopped. He caught sight of two aluminum pipes close together and sticking
out of the ground. They were maybe four inches in circumference with pointed
caps. He immediately thought they were vents. Air vents. He hurried back to the
living room, dropping to a crouch at the side of the rug. His body sagged. A
sense of resignation flowed over him that he would have to wait for the search
warrant. He moved to squat with his legs crossed, Yoga style. Gyp sidled up
beside him and nudged his elbow with his nose.

“I know, Gyp, I want to get trapdoor open too. We’ll just
have to wait for the phone call from Jim.”

Looking around the room, he thought it odd that there was no
landline telephone. He’d found no sign of him writing a book. He closed his
eyes and let out a gruff roar through clenched teeth. An urge washed over him
to smash open the lock with the hammer.

“Damn it, where would I hide a key? Where would anyone hide
a key?”

Shaw slapped his forehead with the palm of his hand. He
struggled to his feet at the question he’d kept pondering. “Why keep an empty
room locked and hold the key on a chain around your neck?”

Shaw dashed to the room in the hallway. He snatched at the
drawer handle on the desk, pulled out the drawer and turned it over. Stapled to
the bottom was a small envelope. He opened it and teased out a key, holding it
aloft as if he’d found the Holy Grail.

“Bingo,” he said, and kissed the key as he hurried to the
trapdoor.

He inserted the key and the padlock sprung open. Shaw pulled
back the clasp and opened the trapdoor. Shaw pinched his nose with his fingers
at the pungent smell of damp. There was a wooden ladder nailed to the side of
the entrance. He lay on his belly and peered around. He noticed a pull cord and
gave it a tug.

“Yay, we have light.”

It was a dull light, but at least he thought it would enable
him to see what was so interesting down there that Ted felt it necessary to
keep the key hidden. Turning over onto his knees, he edged over the side until
his foot found a rung on the ladder. One step at a time he descended until he
hit the floor. Through the space between the rungs of the ladder and on a wall
in front of him, there was a large map of America. A fizzling sound behind him
had the hairs on the nape of his neck standing to attention, when the light
bulb flickered and then died.

TURNING
around in a three-sixty, the shaft of light
from the living area into the cellar wasn’t enough to illuminate Shaw’s
surroundings. Looking up at the entrance, Gyp stared down at him, his paws
hanging over the edge of the entrance and whining.

“Come on, out of the way,” he said, as he scrambled up the
ladder. He made his way into the kitchen, dragged a kitchen chair under the
light fitting, clambered onto the seat, then removed the light bulb. Walking
back into the living area, he heard a thud and stopped.

“Gyp, where are you?”

The sound of a muffled bark echoed. He hurried over to the
trap door. Gyp was sitting at the bottom of the ladder, wagging his tail.

“Damn it, boy, you could have broken a leg,” he said, as he
made his way down the ladder.

He inched his way into the darkness, his hand held aloft to
his front and stroking the low ceiling. His fingers hit a crossbeam and he
stopped. The humidity and the pungent smell was overbearing. He groped around
and felt wiring on the beam. Following the wire, he located the bulb, unscrewed
it and changed it to the new bulb. Shaw squinted at the flood of light and
stooped under the beam. Directly ahead was a wooden bench running from wall to wall.
Stuck to the wall were five colored A4 photos of young women. There was one at
the top, two below that and three running underneath. Either side there was
wood shelving. On the bench top, there were two box files at the side of a
computer and desk jet printer covered in clear-plastic sheeting. He bobbed his
head under another beam and stood directly at the bench.

He studied the photos, his mouth gaping. The top picture had
two nails above it with a gold cross and chain dangling over the picture. It
was the same cross that the girl was wearing around her neck in the photo. The
same cross her mother had described that Gail was wearing on the day she went
missing on her jog in the park. His legs went weak and he pulled out a chair
from under the bench and sat. He didn’t have to look at the names, or the text
reports below them. Who they were where already imprinted in his mind. They were
all printouts from the missing persons’ site. They were his missing girls from
that fateful day back in two thousand and eight.

The hot air around him was stifling. He choked at the taste
of the humidity and the noxious smell. To one side in a space between the
shelving, he noticed an air conditioning unit. He switched on the electrical
socket fixed to the wall. A vision of the aluminum vents passed through his
mind as he switched on the unit.

Shaw snatched at one of the box files to his right and
pulled out a ring binder. It was heavy. He opened the front leaf. It was
stacked with reams of papers. Locaters running down the side, listed different
American states. He opened the first page. It was another MUPU leaflet from the
site. Written in felt tip was a date of birth and July 11th, 2008. He flicked
through the pages. They were all missing girls from different states and all
similarly marked with the date of birth and the year.  They were all eighteen-year-old
girls. He pulled out the second ring binder. It wasn’t as heavy. There was no
hand writing on these missing girls’ details. The dates of birth and the date
they went missing were already listed. The ones he checked were all eighteen years
old, with the same year listed, but none of them on went missing on the
eleventh of July. Shaw suspected the hand of Homeland Security in the dates
missing from the first file to avoid a connection.

Shaw rested his elbows on the bench and sank his head into
the palms of his hands. His mind trawled over the significance of his find. Ted
would have been fifteen and a half back in two thousand and eight. He thought
it not impossible, but strange that someone of that age could have a hand in
the girls going missing. But the gold chain and cross sealed it for him. If he
had a hand in their abduction, then, abducting Amy wouldn’t be out of the
question. The big question was why?

At the far end of the bench was another box file. He reached
out and pulled it toward him. Pulling out the ring binder, some photos fell out
onto the bench. Shaw spread them out and studied them. He recognized the tubby
guy in the picture, even though he had only met him the once. It was the guy
from Homeland Security he’d met at the MUPU meeting. He was walking and
carrying a file. The second picture was a blow-up of the file he carried, with
the words ‘Operation dog-s’ clearly visible. The second picture brought back
memories of FBI agent Summers from that same meeting at MUPU. He was walking on
the same street as in the picture of the Homeland Security guy and carrying a
similar file, but with the wording obscured. The third picture, Shaw couldn’t
place him, but it was the same street and this time it was a zoom picture with
the words visible on the file.

He opened the ring binder. The first page was stamped ‘TOP
SECRET’ and below that ‘Operation dog-s. Turning the page, it was a chain of
command list. At the top of the list was typed ‘Whitehouse Executive Council
(W.E.C.).’ An arrow pointed right on the page to the C.I.A. From there, an
arrow pointed right to the UN Security Committee and below that, an arrow
pointed down to a list. Shaw recognized some as secret service organizations
around the world. Running from the W.E.C., there were lines to each department
listed below, from the N.S.A., to the D.H.S. and then to the FBI, with an arrow
pointing to the right and then the MUPU. Below that, there were four columns in
rows listing cities and detectives names. Shaw flicked through the pages,
surprised that nothing was redacted. Whatever the reports may contain, this was
big. Too big. He stopped at some Egyptian inscriptions and symbols. He wondered
if it was the basis of some type of secret code they were to use.

Moving on, he saw the name Jedward Grimes on the last
locater tag. He opened it at the first page. It was the report into his death.
It was around thirty pages, together with an additional number of photographs
of the scene of his death and taken from different angles. The report included
one of Ed Grimes’ overdrawn bank statements, a foreclosure notice on his bar
and a copy of the lease for the silver mine signed by Ed. The last page was
marked, ‘File closed. Accident’ and signed with an indistinguishable signature
over an official stamp of the NSA.

Closing the file, he thought that Jedward’s report was out
of place. He sighed. It would take a week to read all that content. He didn’t
have a week. He put everything back in its place. Only Ted would have the
answers and he needed them before the FBI took him away. If the warrant was in
place, he could take away the files and have Jim and Frank help him to read the
files for clues that may help him find Amy. Once he had done that, they would
be welcome to them. Whatever Ted’s involvement, he couldn’t help but think that
it looked as though he was tasked with following the investigation. There would
have to be a central command to have carried out such a massive undertaking
with the number of girls involved.

Shaw swiveled around on the chair and stood. He walked over
to the wall with the map. It was peppered with red pins. He picked out
California. There were three pins all stuck in the cluster areas where the
girls had gone missing. One other pin stood out. It was a blue pin, and it was
stuck in the map at Breakers Pass.

He took a last look around. Shaw noticed a buff file on a
shelf at the side of the map. He picked it up and opened the file. His eyes widened.
He’d seen the contents before. There was a Xerox of a newspaper article
following his resignation from LAPD. A paper clip held a number of sheets
together. Turning the page, there was his wife’s obituary. Behind that was an
article on his appointment as sheriff at Breakers Pass, and on the same page,
Amy’s name and date of birth written in pencil. At the side of that was written
the figures ‘18’ enclosed in a circle. Shivers passed through his body. He
closed the file and put it back on the shelf.

“Come on, Gyp. Let’s get back to the office.”

Shaw strode over to Gyp, picked him up, raised him to the
opening, then launched him with a push on his backside through the trapdoor
entrance. Climbing the ladder, his legs were leaden. Drained of energy, he hauled
himself into the living area. With everything locked and put back in place, he
set of back to his car. As he approached his vehicle, he could see a woman sat
on the lawn, holding and resting the head of the old guy in her lap.

“Please, help,” she called out.

Shaw rushed over. The old man was groaning and clutching his
stomach, the pallor of his cheeks had a distinct pale yellow hue. His breathing
was rapid, and he was foaming at the corner of his mouth,

“Have you called the medical center?” said Shaw.

“I can’t get through. The line’s busy every time I’ve tried.”

Shaw took out his cell phone, located the medical-center
number and pressed the call button. It was engaged. He knelt and placed his
hand on the guy’s head. His temperature was off the scale.

“What’s his name?”

“Jeff. I’m Annie”

“I’m going to town. Help me get him into my car, and I’ll
take you both to the medical center.”

They helped Jeff into his car. Annie climbed into the back.
Shaw opened his door and Gyp jumped in and onto the passenger seat.

“Okay, Jeff, we’ll soon have you there. Hang on in there,”
said Shaw, as he closed the door and started the engine. Turning onto the road,
he activated his siren, together with his reds, and blues, then stepped hard on
the accelerator pedal.

The journey passed by in a blur of scenery. Approaching the
medical center on the outskirts of town, he slowed. Confronting him was a scene
that appeared as though he was approaching a jamboree. Cars were double-parked,
and the medical center was surrounded by a crowd of town folks. Women were
clutching their children. People sat on the sidewalk comforting others. A nurse
was walking through the crowd carrying a clipboard, and wearing a surgical
mask. Shaw stopped his car and climbed out. He was met with a crescendo of
children and babies crying, interspersed with groans. He noticed that the nurse
was taking down names, and handing out surgical masks.

“Wait here,” he said. “I’ll find out what’s happening.”

He rushed over to the nurse.

“What’s all this? I have an old man in the car, and to be
honest, he doesn’t look good.”

“Look around, none of them look good. We’ve got some sort of
food poisoning hit the town. The doctor’s had to call the county hospital for
assistance.”

“Please, just take a look at him.”

They rushed over to the car. The nurse leaned in through the
back door and checked Jeff’s pulse.

“Quick, help him out of the car. It’s like an oven in there.”

Shaw helped Jeff to get out of the car.

“Where to?” Shaw asked.

“Sit him down on the grass. There are no beds left.”

The sound of sirens cut the air over the pitiful cries. A
fleet of ambulances slowed, and the crowd parted. A medic jumped out of the
first ambulance and the nurse signaled for him.

“We need a gurney and an IV over here.”

“Is there anything I can do?” said Shaw.

“Yeah, you can get the hell away from here just in case it’s
something contagious,” she said, and handed Annie a facemask.

Shaw turned to Annie, put his arm around her and gave her a
squeeze.

“He’ll be fine now the medics are here. I’ll look in on him
later.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.”

He let go of her, turned, then climbed into his car. He
didn’t need telling twice. That last thing he needed was to be hospitalized if
he was to be any help to Amy.

Driving down the main street, a vehicle parked outside
Hogan’s butchers. It was sign written, ‘County Health & Hygiene’ in blue
lettering. As he passed the steak bar, he rubbed his stomach, relieved that he
couldn’t feel any soreness. Approaching Ed’s bar, Grimes was smoking and talking
with some of his customers on the sidewalk. Ed stepped off of the sidewalk and
waved for him to stop.

“You getting anywhere with finding out what killed Maria?”
Grimes asked.

“I thought you’d be more interested that your town’s
suffering some sort of epidemic?”

“That, it’s probably some contaminated meat, or something.
You’d best hope it’s got nothing to do with that burger van.”

“Well now, if I hear malicious rumors along those lines
before my medical, my attorney will know where to look. Incidentally, your
customers can smoke on the sidewalk, but they can’t drink liquor unless they
want locking up.”

Grimes frowned and his cheeks rouged. He turned to his
customers.

“Joe, Harry, take your drinks inside,” said Grimes, and
turned back to face Shaw. “So, are you any nearer with Maria?”

“Getting close, Ed. Real close.”

Shaw wound up his window and drove on to his office,
allowing himself a smirk. He parked up and climbed out of his car with Gyp
following.

“Any news from Jim?” he said, as he walked through the
office door and on over to his desk

“No, but I’ve interviewed Oliver and Tanya.” Frank said. “They
don’t know anything about drugs, Ted, or Amy that can help us. Oh, and there’s
the number and name of an FBI agent who called. It’s on your desk. He wouldn’t
tell me what he wanted. He said he’d only speak to you. I’ve confirmed Ted
stayed at the Globe. He’d booked for two nights, but only stayed the one. The
cell number you gave me for the Jamie is a wrong number. There’s a digit missing.
I can’t find any Brook Street on the map either.”

Shaw took his gun from his holster and placed it in his
drawer.

“Empty the ammo from your gun and then put it back in your
holster. I’ll speak to the FBI first, and then we can interview Ted.”