Ask Not For Whom The Panther Prowls (7 page)

“
Me? If anything I'm a pastafarian. Having a sky monkey who
is able to interfere with life's events is scarier than just being
meat. Why?”

“
There were a lot of papers and pamphlets about that in his
rooms too.”

“
That makes sense. Not all, but a fair proportion of our
Chinese students could be classed as religious refugees. I heard
that a few of the local churches sponsor them when chatting with
their friends at graduation. I don't know much more than
that.”

WRAS is the
student FM radio station at GSU. In the evening, after the PBS
programming it carries during the day is finished, it broadcasts an
eclectic mixture of music with one of the stronger signals in
Atlanta. It is something of a point of pride for the university
that the GSU signal is much stronger than the one from 'Tech. The
evening show is especially eclectic with a mixture of jazz, rap and
whatever the student DJ feels like at the moment. It provides a
well-liked alternative to right-wing ranting, canned preprogrammed
'music' like Beyonce, and the various forms of religious muzak that
fill the air in Atlanta. One evening, the DJ announced that he was
putting on a disc of progressive funk rap jazz fusion and would be
back in a moment. An hour of radio silence later, the emergency
squad from Grady was summoned to the station in the basement of the
student center. The DJ was found slumped in the corner. Another one
of the students who had a 'heart attack'.

The next morning I received a call from the
university president.

“
OK Dr.
Sharpe. This has been one too many.” It was perhaps one too public
for his tastes. In my opinion there were already too many a month
ago. “What does Argus need to get started on the
investigation?”

“
A contract.
You're going to have to pay.”

“
Fine. Damn
you.”

“
That's why
I have tenure. I'll have Mr. Ellis contact you to make the
arrangements.”

“
I'll call
him.”

We had a bit of a race, but my autodialer beat
his.

“
Will? It's
11 at night. What the hell is going on?”

“
I was just
called by Dr. Pace. We have a paying client.”

“
Good, they
must finally be worried.”

“
Let me know
what happens when you meet him.”

2

In the
afternoon, when I returned from campus, Laura met me at our
apartment door with a determined and somewhat grim look on her
face. She held out a small box, inside it was a necklace. She
demanded, “What's this?”

“
A necklace,
a rather nice and expensive one. Do you like it?”

“
What was it
doing in your underwear drawer?”

“
I was
hiding it, waiting for the right time to see if you liked
it.”

“
Was it that
skank's?” Laura did not have a good opinion of my dead ex-wife. It
was well justified.

“
Helena's?
Yes.”

“
Then why in
the world do you think I'd even want to touch it, let alone wear
it?”

“
I thought
it would look good on you. That's all.”

“
I'm going
to say this one time Will, you need to get that skank out of your
life. She's dead, and as far as I can tell good riddance. You
promised you'd contact an estate company to clear out that
townhouse.”

“
Yes.”

“
Have you
even started looking at the companies?”

“
No, not
yet. I'm sorry.”

“
I'm sorry
too.” She pushed me back out of the apartment. “It's your choice
Will, that dead skank or me.” Then she shut the door. The deadbolt
clicked as she locked it. It seemed many things were coming to an
end as I stood there, speechless, unable to think of what to say to
her.

3

I didn't
have long to consider my options. I returned to my office, and was
sitting dumbly by my computer, trying to summon up the nerve to
call. That was the trouble, who should I call? As much as I loved
Laura, there was still a part of me that hadn't closed out Helena.
I suppose had that skank had a normal death, I might have had
closure, but there were still too many unanswered questions. There
might be a clue in the debris of our life. On the other hand, I had
to move on. So what if she slept with anything that wore pants
behind my back, or was planning to bolt with a crooked accountant
from the university? That was over. I fired up a web browser to
search for a cleaning company when the alert sounded on my
cell
ⁱⁱⁱ
. It was an 'Amber alert'. A male child, six years
old was missing, abducted from his school. He was driven away in a
tan van, and the license plate began with the letters 'YX'. Most of
these 'Amber alerts' are custody battles where one party takes the
law into its own hands. I ignored it and began to look at the
cleaning company adds, when my cell rang. It was
Morrison.

“
Will! Did
you see the Amber alert?”

“
Yes, what
of it?”

“
Danny. It's
Danny.”

“
Damn.”

I
immediately called Laura. Her response was short, “He is my son
Will 'click',” and final. I suppose I could have walked off, but I
sort of liked the kid. I called Arthur, and asked him, “Is it
'freelancing' if I chase after my stepson?”

“
Doesn't
matter. You're involved as family.”

“
Morrison
didn't tell me much about what's known. Did you hear
anything?”

“
No, but let
me ask around. Call you.”

It only took him a few minutes. I was on my way
to the car when he called back. “Will, are you sitting down?”

“
No, what is
it?”

“
McHenry's
escaped. Don't know for certain, but it could be him.”

“
It would
fit. He's the kind of low life who would grab his boy and
run.”

“
You've met
him. Not me.”

“
Has Jane,
his other ex, been warned? I can't talk to her because of the court
case between Laura and her.”

“
I'll ask.
Make sure the news gets to her.”

“
Thanks.”

The FAX,
from a FEDEX store in North Lake arrived shortly after the Amber
alert for Danny went out. He was holding his favorite stuffed
animal, Mr. Fuzzy, and was staring at the camera with that peculiar
intense wide eyed look of fear, the look that suggests he was on
the wrong end of a gun barrel. The Dekalb police quickly arrived at
the FEDEX store. One of the local homeless had earned a few bucks
posting the FAX, but he'd already spent it on a couple of quarts of
'night train' and a bottle of 'everclear' grain alcohol. Until he
sobered up there was no point in asking him to try to identify the
man who sponsored his binge, and it was likely he wouldn't remember
much in any case. So that lead went nowhere.

Morrison
sent Arthur and me copies of the FAX. We might not have been on
speaking terms, but Laura was still my wife, and Danny was her boy.
She hadn't started divorce proceedings, yet, so I guess she still
had some feelings for me. It's just they were buried very deeply in
a big steaming pile of not completely unjustified anger.

Seeing Danny
in the FAX, convinced me that I had to do something. He looked so
scared, so vulnerable, and so alone. I called Arthur and told him I
needed to pick up my firearm. Having my boss and business partner
hold it, seemed the safest thing to do with it when there was a
curious six year old in the house. It was just a small one, a Ruger
LCP, easy to conceal, with a trigger safety. If I needed to use it,
it would fire when I pulled the trigger. I'd practiced a few times
at one of the local ranges and improved to where I could at least
hit the barn if I fired from the inside. I had a strong suspicion
that I might need to use it before the day was over.

The FAX had
one interesting detail, besides Danny. Up in the right was a small,
out of focus, image that looked like it was the corner of a window.
Something that resembled a blurry eastern hemlock could be seen in
the window. Not much to go on, but it meant the building was in
north central or northeast Georgia. Unless, of course, he was being
held in an arboretum.

I'd spent
much of my free time for the last year going over Laura's ex, Tom
McHenry's, assets. There was an active asset recovery case between
her and McHenry's soon to be second ex-wife, and I wanted to be
sure Laura received her share. He'd caused so much hurt to her that
she earned something, and I wasn't going to let wife number two
scoop up the lot. Classes had intervened, but I remembered that he
had a 'cabin' somewhere up north of Dahlonega and west of Hiawasee.
It was tucked into a corner of a national forest, left over from
when the forest was formed. It couldn't be sold to anyone but the
forest service, but it could stay in the family. McHenry had
directly inherited it from his grandfather.

Pulling
the address from my notes and checking the area with Google earth
confirmed that there was a building there, at least six months ago
when they last took images. There were plenty of trees that were
the right texture for Hemlocks, not that it proved anything. Given
that if Danny were in the Atlanta area, the police would find him
long before me, I drove out to give the place the once-over. The
paved road stopped and a long, winding forest service road led to
the driveway. I stopped a few hundred yards past the entrance and
turned my car around. Pulling it off to the side made it look like
a backpacker's or hunter's car tucked into the brush. I walked
closer and cased the premises.

It was
occupied. There was a nondescript van that matched the Amber alert
parked next to the building. Though, to be honest, I could have
found a similar vehicle near many of the farms and vacation houses
in the general area. I carefully slipped down a deer path and
approached the building.

I entered
through the back door into the basement. Someone was there, playing
with Danny. It was his father, Tom McHenry. We spotted each other
and drew our firearms. I was faster, but only by a little. It was
enough. He chuckled, set his gun on the table and stepped back with
his hands up. I kept my firearm pointed at him.

“
Dr. Sharpe,
I guess you win. You know I'm not scared of you.”

“
Really?”

“
I just
wanted to see Danny one more time, before.” He paused, “Before they
found me.”

“
They?”

“
You'll find
out, soon enough. Promise me, after they find me. For Danny's and
for Laura's sake, you'll put them away.”

I paused, “I
don't understand. If I can I will.”

“
You will.
You're a thorough bastard, and I should have done for you when I
could have. All the gold hasn't been found.”

“
What?”

“
It's all
off the books and 'finder's keeper's' now. The big shots are
looking for it.”

“
You know
where it's hidden?”

“
Some of it.
Some is in places you won't look. Enough for Danny's
future.”

“
What's that
mean?”

He chuckled
and dodged the question, “The thing is Will, all you'd do is put me
in prison. That's why I'm not scared of you.”

“
Prison
doesn't bother you?”

“
Not much.
The food sucks, the quarters are uncomfortable, but the company's
great, and no one is trying to kill me.”

“
What?”

“
Much nicer
than dealing with deans, provosts and presidents. If you see what I
mean.” He gave me an enigmatic smile.

“
Really? I
don't see.”

“
You will.
You really shouldn't be involved with them. The convicts are a nice
bunch of guys. Maybe a bit rough, but decent folk at heart. Unlike
-”

There was a
noise upstairs. Someone was opening the front door. I hear a
vaguely familiar voice call, “Tom, Mr. McHenry? Are you
here?”

“
Shit, shit,
shit. Will, grab Danny and run.”

I didn't quite understand him.

“
Take Danny.
Run! Now!”

I did.
Picking Danny up under one arm I dashed for the door and back up
the path I'd followed to my car. At least two different sets of
shots rang out behind me. Danny asked when we reached the car,
“Will is my Daddy OK?”

“
Danny, I
don't think so.” I gave him a hug, then got him in the car and took
off. “I'm sorry.” Once we were safely out on the main road I dialed
911 to report a shooting.

University Provost Hurt in Hunting
Accident
, Atlanta
AP.

Dr. Alice James, the well liked and highly respected
provost for Georgia State University was seriously injured in a
hunting accident near Blue Ridge Georgia yesterday. She was
accidentally shot several times with a large caliber handgun. She
is in serious, but stable condition in Grady hospital after being
airlifted from the Blue Ridge emergency center. Police are
investigating the circumstances of the accident.