With Cruel Intent (52 page)

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Authors: Dennis Larsen

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room, until he looked into the seats and

saw familiar faces. As he walked passed

Deputy Guest, he knelt down on one knee

and allowed Otis to smell his hand, before

scratching the shepherd with Natalie's

permission.

"What's his name?" he asked.

"Otis, but he'll answer to Dopey

too," she said, smiling at the handsome

student that looked about her age.

"Looks like you'll be speaking to

us today. Ya nervous?" Seymour said,

smiling back at the attractive deputy.

"No more than I am when

responding to a 'shots fired' call," Natalie

joked, enjoying the opportunity to take her

mind off the lecture.

"I'll bet, I'm sure you'll do fine.

Bye the way, I'm Seymour and you are...

Deputy Guest," he said, looking for the

nametag pinned to her uniform.

"Yeah, Natalie to my family, nice

to meet you Seymour. Take it easy on me

down here today, will ya?"

"I'll see what I can do," he said,

giving Otis one last pat before finding a

seat among his peers.

Pink showed up a few minutes

later, introduced herself to Deputy Guest,

and accepted the apology on behalf of the

Sheriff, understanding that he was a busy

man. She brought the class to order and

made some announcements in regards to

final exams and marks, before introducing

the speaker and her canine companion.

Natalie took center stage before

the young crowd and began by explaining

why she wanted to join the Sheriff's

Department, the criteria and prerequisites

that were necessary, and what her

experience had been since joining the

force. A nervous tremor altered her

speech pattern, but improved as she caught

her rhythm. Mrs. Wild was impressed

with the young officer and opened the

floor

for

questions

once

Natalie

completed her prepared remarks. Otis

continued to be unimpressed, however,

patiently waiting at the feet of Mrs. Wild

while his handler answered questions

from the students.

Seymour raised his hand, and

spoke, when Natalie acknowledged him.

"Can you tell us where the investigation

stands with The Stalker and the recent

crime wave?"

"I can't give you a lot of specifics

but I can say that we are making headway.

A profile is emerging of our perp, and I've

been authorized to release the following

details to you, in an effort to enlist your

help in getting the word out. We believe

our man is Caucasian, approximately six

feet tall, is right handed and has access to

a dirt bike styled motorcycle. He's most

likely either living on, or raised on a farm,

and is getting more bold and taking greater

risks with each new crime."

"There was some talk that it's

somehow linked to the Manson Family, is

that true?" a girl in the first row asked.

"Some of the evidence has pointed

to that, as you've read in the papers, but

we don't think there is a direct link with

the actual followers of Charles Manson,"

the deputy clarified for the young lady.

"What would you say to single

women about protecting yourself against

such a threat?" the same young woman

asked.

"That's a perfect question for me to

conclude with today and I'll turn the time

back to your teacher, I understand she

teaches a self-defense course and could

give more details than I could about

protecting yourself. I will say that buying

a gun is probably not the best alternative;

too many people accidentally shoot

themselves, or a loved one. If you are

going to own a firearm, take the necessary

instruction to be able to use it wisely.

Thanks for letting Otis, and I, speak with

you today."

Lester sat in the middle of the

grassy area outside the library, with his

camera mounted on a miniature, portable

monopod,

allowing

him

maximum

flexibility and stability for using the large

telephoto lens. It had been less than five

minutes since he called 911 when the first

Valdosta Police squad car arrived. The

patrol car rolled up with lights, but no

siren, and parked near the administration

office. Lester began shooting pictures; he

wanted to document this day to enjoy for

days and years to come. Suddenly there

was a buzz of activity, just under the

surface, that could have easily been

overlooked, but the amateur photographer

knew what he was looking for. Campus

Security started popping up all around the

area, each armed with a nightstick and

Glock 9mm at his or her hip. Two more

city police cruisers rolled into the parking

lot from where Lester could see them, he

suspected there were others at various

points around the campus, out of his view.

Before long, the first two officers

that entered the administrative wing were

now leaving the building, along with a

couple campus security personnel. The

four men split into groups of two and

walked in opposite directions, each

headed for a different building. The

instigator could hardly contain himself,

this was better than any live sporting event

he had ever attended. The first pair

headed the same direction that he had last

seen Seymour moving. He spun and

positioned himself to be prepared when

they emerged with their catch.

Mrs. Wild was just taking back the

lead in her room, when a Valdosta City

Police Officer, stuck his head in the door

and asked to speak with her. Noting the

deputy in the room, he waved for her to

join them as well, just outside the

classroom doors. The officer was

obviously running on adrenalin, he spoke

in quick, short sentences; his cheeks were

flush and he was sweating slightly. The

accompanying security officer looked

scared 'shitless', pale as a sheet, and

hardly able to put together a coherent

sentence.

"Mrs. Wild, we have a bit of a

situation and we could use your help, and

yours too deputy," the officer said,

addressing the two women. "We received

a 911 call this morning reporting a student

was seen on campus with a handgun."

"Do we know who or where?"

Natalie chimed in.

"The caller identified the probable

student as Seymour, but that is all. We've

identified,

through

the

school

administrative office, that there are only

three Seymour’s enrolled in the summer

semester, and one of them is in your class,

Mrs. Wild. We've sent other officers to

locate the other two possibilities, but we

need to talk to this Seymour Wood. We'd

like to do this as calmly and securely as

possible so we don't end up with anyone

getting hurt," the policeman said.

"I can't imagine that Seymour

would be packing a weapon on campus. I

know this young man, he is an excellent

student and will, one day, very likely, be

serving with one of you." Pink found it

beyond belief that Seymour could be the

one they were looking for.

"I can't say I know this guy, but a

Seymour did introduce himself to me

before class this morning, and as a matter

of fact, he was the only one to do so, he

also seemed more than interested in The

Stalker case. Officer, let me see if I can

talk to him and get him to come out here,

so we can process him without making a

big scene in the classroom," Officer Guest

suggested, noting that the security guard

was nodding in agreement, happy that

somebody else would be assuming the

risk.

"That's fine, if you think he will

respond to you, I'll come in with you in

case we need any extra fire power."

"Good. Mrs. Wild do you think

you should come with us?" Guest asked.

"I most certainly do! It's my class

and those students and their safety are my

responsibility. I don't want anybody hurt

on my watch. Natalie lead the way," Pink

said, squaring her shoulders and following

the deputy into the room.

The room instantly hushed when

the officers and Pink returned, Otis on

edge, feeling the energy from the humans.

Natalie walked the distance to where

Seymour sat, leaned down with her right

hand on her service weapon, and

whispered into his left ear.

"Seymour, I need you to come with

me for a minute, we need to talk with you

outside."

He was startled, assuming the

worst, "What's happened to my mom? Is

she okay? Has there been an accident?"

Natalie detected sincere surprise

and concern in his voice, not what she

expected from someone carrying a

concealed weapon. "No, I'm sure she's

fine, we just need to ask you a few

questions out in the hall, so if you'll just

come with me."

"Sure, sure, no problem, but my

family is okay, is that what you are

saying?"

He followed Officer guest and the

other officer out of the doors. Mrs. Wild

stayed behind to calm the class. Once

outside, the patrolman asked Seymour for

his backpack and sat it aside.

"Seymour Wood?"

"Yes, I'm Seymour Wood. What's

going on?"

"We have a report that a student

named Seymour; brought a handgun on

campus with them today and we are

investigating that complaint. Do I have

permission to search your person and your

backpack?" the officer asked.

"Yeah, please do. I don't have a

gun, only gun we've got is an old single

shot my dad use to hunt with."

The officer instructed Guest to pat

Seymour down while he searched through

the backpack. Natalie had him stand

against the wall and spread his feet and

place his hands behind his head. She

carefully moved her hands over his arms,

waist, pockets, and anywhere she felt a

weapon could be concealed. The young

officer wished the exercise was under

more favorable circumstances but found

no hidden weapons. Likewise, the

backpack contained school supplies,

textbooks and binders, but no gun.

Natalie was relieved to see that

the engaging, handsome man she'd met

earlier, did not appear to be the subject in

question. She asked, "Do you have a car

here Seymour?"

"Nah, I take the bus."

"And you do not own any firearms,

is that correct?" she asked again.

"How about a locker on campus,

you got one?" the security guard jumped in

with a pertinent question.

"It's not an assigned locker, but I

keep one over at the gym for my

racquetball class," Seymour informed

them, unconcerned.

"Would you mind showing us that

locker?"

"No problem, can I have my

backpack?" he asked.

The

four

walked

together,

departed the Robert E. Lee building, and

headed for the gym. Lester was thrilled to

see the student surrounded by three armed

officials and headed for the gym. He took

picture after picture trying to be casual

about it. When the group was a good fifty

yards beyond his location, he picked up

his things and moved to a vantage point

outside the gym, where he could get some

classic pictures of Seymour in handcuffs.

Seymour stood in front of locker

1137; it appeared just as he had left it an

hour before.

"When did you last access this

locker Seymour?" Natalie asked.

"I had racquetball last period, so

just over an hour ago. I came here right

after the matches, showered and dressed,

locked it up and went to Mrs. Wild's

class, where I met you."

"That's fine, just open the locker

for us and you can get back to your

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