Relentless (Elisabeth Reinhardt Book 1) (25 page)

A noise at the back door interrupted her thoughts, looking up a scream emerged. A huge filthy monster stood in the doorway, covered with muck and icicles,
sludge-colored hair plastered to his head, wild eyes glaring at her. “Did you give them my stuff?” He demanded, “Did you?” He stomped toward her menacingly as two other dripping monsters crowded into the kitchen behind him.

She was wide-eyed, in shock. “Jake…?” she asked in a quivering voice, squinting and hesitant. She didn’t recognize him. “Jake is that you,” she asked again.
“What happened to your hair dear it’s the wrong color!” She babbled. It was all too much for her to absorb. Men weren’t supposed to dye their hair. Only ladies did that, and not very often, in her opinion. She was confused. First, the police came and then these… these monsters, burst into her kitchen. “How come you are so wet?” She blathered irrelevancies, “Are you ahh… okay, Dear? Do you want some tea?” She was flustered and didn’t know what to say. Foolishly, she imagined pouring them all a cup of tea.

“The police were here asking about you, Dear. We
didn’t know what to tell them….” she went on. 

“Go get my stuff,
G-d dammit, you stupid old woman,” he growled pulling her out of the chair by her sweater.

For a moment, she didn’t know what stuff he meant. She didn’t have ‘his stuff’ did she? The gifts he’d given her were hers, weren’t they? Wh
y was he calling it ‘his stuff’? He didn’t have any stuff here.

“Get my stuff and hurry,” he snarled.

“You mean my jewelry box and all?” she asked.

”Of course that’s what I mean, you idiot,” he hissed at her
grabbing her shoulder.

“
But, I don’t have it anymore dear the police took it away with them.”

“
You stupid old woman,” he shouted and back handed her across the face. “How could you be so stupid?” He hollered as she fell backwards with a yelp. She spilled onto the floor, hitting the table, and all its contents crashed on top of her. Shattering glass clattered loudly. Earl came rushing into the room, rifle held high, screaming, “Get the hell out of my house, you lousy bastard or I’ll blow your head right off your shoulders!”

Slim raised his gun with a steady hand and said,
“Put the gun down old man or I’ll shoot your stupid wife.” Jake grinned a sickly grin bent down and pulled Hattie to her feet, “Come on, get me my stuff you ugly old bat and I want anything you have about where Reggie Lee is hiding. I want her, you understand me. I want her and you’re going to help me get her.” He pulled her so their faces were inches apart, “Let’s go upstairs,” he growled, “You’re going to give me my stuff and help me find Reggie or so help me I’ll burn your house down with you and Earl in it.”

Hattie was weeping now. Frightened and confused. “Don’t hurt my Earl, Jake,” she pleaded.
“He was like a father to you. We weren’t nothing but good to you, Jake. We took you in when no one else would. We raised you up, fed you and all. Don’t do this Jake. Don’t hurt us.” Earl, standing firm in the kitchen, did not lower his rifle.

“Don’t know which one of us would be faster, Boy,” he said, “but someone’s gonna get hisself kilt in this kitchen tonight.”

Then Custer, who’d been standing in the background, took out his gun. Custer didn’t want to shoot these old folks. They’d always been real nice to him, fed them and talked nice when they visited. They reminded him of his own mother and he didn’t want to hurt them. He wished he could talk to Slim about this. See if now was the time for him and Slim to run off and leave Jake to fend for himself, but then several things happened. They heard a crash of furniture from upstairs and Hattie screamed. Earl pulled the trigger on his old Winchester grazing Custer’s shoulder. Slim pulled the trigger on his Walther P99 and shot Alcott Earl Raines Jr. through the heart.

At the sound of gunshots all available police and FBI agents
raced toward the house, shouting tactical instructions to one another. “Shots fired, shots fired,” they shouted. “Possible hostage situation. Use caution. Use caution.” Jake came thundering down the wooden stairs charged with electricity hollering “What the fuck did you morons do?” Glancing at his dead uncle, he grabbed his two buddies and shoved them toward the cellar door. “Come on hurry, we gotta go…” he commanded.

They flew down the rickety steps two at a time, raced past the canning room with its jars of jelly and pickles stacked on old wooden shelves, ducked under the clothes lines where sheets and work jeans hung drying and raced down a long passageway packed with crates and boxes. At the very end of the hallway, there was a narrow tunnel that led to an old furnace and coils of heating pipes, installed when the Raines family first built the complex. Behind the furnace was a decrepit coal shoot unused for years. The Parkland killers fell to their knees and began to crawl through the tunnel. It was over 400 feet long and totally dark. Around them rats scurried, but they were undeterred, racing against the clock. They didn’t know how much time they had. They heard barking and voices calling instructions and commands, but thought it would take them a while to locate the tunnel and start tracking them. A rickety old ladder leaned against a brick wall leading to a metal trap-door about 20 feet above them. They dragged Custer with them as they climbed. They emerged gasping from coal dust and stress, on an abandoned trail that had been used for coal delivery in the early 1900’s.

“We need a place to hide,” Jake said
. A motel was out of the question, given that the whole community would be watching for them. Suggestions flew as they snuck through the woods. We could hide in a barn. We could steal a car and run. We could break into a house and live there for a while. All those ideas seemed too high risk. Given their lack of resources and the fact that the police were just minutes behind them, they took off running along the soft shoulder of the road, ducking into trees when they heard a vehicle approach. There were houses in this direction and if they were lucky they would find one that was empty.

It was about 10PM.
Most people were asleep, but often one or more lights could be seen somewhere in the houses. They made quick loops around each property looking for hiding places. If they saw lights, they kept on running. If they heard dogs, they kept on running. They did quick run-throughs for the next 3 miles until they came to a sign that said
Our Lady of the Angels
,
Everyone Welcome
.
It was a charming fieldstone Church, with turrets and a bell tower. A granite statue of Jesus, arms outstretched, stood next to a carved double door. Although there was a dim light in the sanctuary, the rest of the building was dark. They broke a window in the back, entered a spacious room next to the kitchen and stood silently for several minutes. Hearing no sounds, they concluded either they were alone in the building or the people here were asleep. Slowly they crept through the darkened church and room by room searched the building, ending up in the priest’s quarters on the third floor. The room was small, pale green with a slanted ceiling and three small windows looking out onto the circular driveway and garage. A narrow, neatly made bed was tucked against the wall and a wooden replica of Jesus on the Cross hung over the headboard. A small dresser and a soft cushioned chair near an end table topped by a glass lamp completed the furnishings. There were two books on the table, a copy of
Ignatius Holy Bible, Revised Standard Version
and
Light of the Word, Reflections on the Sunday Readings
. The priest wasn’t there. They found some notes about flights lying on top of the books and relaxed. The church was empty. They had found their sanctuary.

Searching the bathroom, they found a small first aid kit and
bandaged Custer’s arm where Earl’s bullet had grazed him. To reinforce their security, they hung blankets over the windows, made sure all doors and windows were locked or completely covered and set traps in case someone arrived unexpectedly, piling tin cans against doors and prayer candles in front of the windows.

Make-shift alarms set, they raided the kitchen. Greedily they ate and drank whatever they found. They knew that the police would be around within hours so they devised two plans to throw them off their trail. Slim went to the basement where he found some old windows and glue. He cut one of the panes with a glass cutter and repaired the small window pane they had broken to get into the church. Careful not to wipe or clean the glass he extracted the original pieces of glass from the frame and insert
ed the one he found in the basement. It didn’t fit exactly right, but was dirty enough to pass a cursory inspection. Outside, Custer picked up any paint flecks or glass shards that might have fallen and raked the snow to cover their footprints. They admired their handiwork with flashlights, thinking not a cop in the world could discover these repairs.

Meanwhile, Jake went rummaging around in some clothing bins he found in the back of the church. They all changed into clothes fou
nd in the old bins and bags. Jake stuffed their wet dirty clothing into a shopping bag and put on the priest’s shoes and coat and walked from the kitchen to the garage, opened the door and went exploring. The church owned two vehicles. One was a faded 2005 silver Pontiac Bonneville with some small dents along its right side. The other was a green 2009 Chevy Astro Cargo van. Jake looked carefully at the van from the outside, but didn’t get into it. He then changed into a different set of clothing and left the garage. Pulling the rake behind him, he walked through the woods dragging his old clothes along the ground and bushes. He walked around the nearby farms, homes and barns for 50 minutes ending up on the parking lot of an elementary school. He then changed shoes and clothes for the third time and walked back to the church. He grinned with satisfaction at his success outsmarting those dumb cops. He ‘hi 5’d’ his buds, guffawing, supercharged with his own cleverness.

They were sitting on the floor in the priest’s room, just after 2AM when Jake said he had something to show them. Grinning he
pulled a folded square of yellowed paper from his pocket and carefully opened it. In his best TV announcer voice he read aloud:
‘The Family Court of Putnam County West Virginia hereby declares Reggie Lee Raines, age 14, to be an emancipated adult.’
It was dated 18 years ago, witnessed and signed by Edna Goodwin and Rhoda Eades. It listed their names and addresses.

“She gave it up,” he crowed loudly, slapping Slim on the back in glee. “Old Aunt Hattie, that lying old bitch, knew all along what happened to Reggie Lee. Sneaky old broad! She finally gave it up. Can you believe that? All these years? I could have had her years ago and not wasted all this time looking for her.
G-d Damn it! All those times I asked her about Reggie and she had nothing but that stupid story about the hair dresser lady. Well I showed her who was boss. Damn right I did. I showed her what happens if you lie to old Jake.”

“What’d you do to her, Jake?” Custer asked, “You didn’t kill her did you, Jake?” Slim and Custer looked steadily at their leader. They hoped that he hadn’t killed her. She was a nice old lady and they didn’t need another murder charge against them. The old man, well, he shot first so it was self-defense, they reasoned they would get off on that charge.

“Nah,” Jake said, “I just hit her, is all,” he admitted finally. “Smacked her across the face, is all, and she fell backwards on the floor. She’ll be alright I suspect. Don’t you worry none about old Hattie. She’s a tough old bird.”

They were all silent for a moment.

Then Jake’s mood abruptly switched to joyous exaltation. “She finally gave it up, my friends! She had this old court paper with names on it hidden up there. She gave up the ghost,” he crowed again. Whooping loudly, he chuckled, “Well…well, not a ghost yet, but soon, my boys, soon. These old ladies, Edna someone and the other one, they’ll be singing with the angels!” He laughed at his little joke. “And little Reggie Lee well she’ll be a ghost as soon as I get my hands on her! Just like her old Papa. They can burn in hell together,” he chuckled again.  Custer and Slim stared at him warily. They’d never seen him this happy before, he was actually laughing. Jake pranced around the priest’s small bedroom, waving the yellowed paper around in the air, “We’ve got us some leads, my friends,” he whooped. “We’ve got us some leads! And we are going to track down those old ladies who helped her and we are going to make them tell us where she is. We are going to find her. I can feel it in my bones.” He laughed again. Then he started his familiar chant,
“Come out Come out wherever you are! Come out, Come out wherever you are! Come out, come out wherever you are ….”
his cracked singsong voice echoed eerily through the halls of the empty church.

Chaos reigned at the Raines Family Farm. Police and FBI agents rushed into the house
. They were not entirely sure who shot who or why. At first they thought Hattie shot Earl until they found her unconscious on her bedroom floor. They found the man they’d left on guard unconscious in the snow. Clint and Dale hearing gunshots came rushing back from the search. Finding their father dead on the kitchen floor they freaked out. “Pa, Pa” they screamed kneeling down beside their father and trying to rouse him. Then they started screaming for their mother, and raced up the stairs to find the paramedics leaning over her. Broken furniture and blood was everywhere in their parents’ bedroom. “Mama, Mama,” they called and knelt next to her trying to rouse her. The police moved them back so that the medics could work. Exchanging looks they rushed down the steps grabbed rifles from the gun rack and ran out of the house. “We’re gonna kill that bastard,” they screamed and took off toward the woods. “Go after them boys,” Chester directed three Hurricane cops, “catch them and bring them back.”

CSI’s recorded the crime scene
s, photographing Alcott Earl from all angles, collecting evidence and mapping out bullet trajectories. Paramedics tended to the injured officer and Hattie Raines who remained barely conscious. She’d been hit across the face several times, she had ligature marks on her neck, a concussion and her left arm and collarbone had been broken. Internal injuries could not be determined at the scene. Her heart was beating weakly. It appeared she had been knocked backward then picked up and thrown across the room, hitting the opposite wall. Pictures knocked from the wall landed on her head. She was moaning and calling for her husband as she was lifted into the ambulance. Chester ordered police roadblocks be set up on all roads connecting to the Raines Farm with orders to stop and search every car, trunk and occupant. Heavily armed police were to perform these searches with no exceptions. Occupants would be asked to step out of the vehicle while a thorough search was conducted. Will Schmidt updated all law enforcement agencies about the changing situation at the Raines Family Farm. He informed the media that there had been another incident in which a man had been killed, a woman severely injured and the 3 killers were now on the loose in the vicinity.

Marie tore into town to pick up the Raines’ sisters. She wanted to make sure that they were personally informed
of recent events before they heard the news on TV or from a concerned neighbor. The daughters deserved personal attention. They needed to be personally notified about their father’s death, their mother’s critical status and informed that their brothers were now chasing the killers through the woods. They would need time and emotional support to sort through all these traumas. Life as they had known it had just ended.

Back at the farm, chaos continued. Everyone was busy dealing with the most recent crimes or trying to find the killers. They believed that it had been Jake who went upstairs with his aunt
searching for something. They initially assumed he was looking for the jewelry box with his ‘trinkets,’ but the disheveled state of the room indicated that he had been searching for something else. Drawers were upended. Shelves had been torn out of closets. Hattie mumbling about a paper led police to find a tiny scrap of paper taped to the bottom of an upturned drawer.  The fragment looked old and official. This undersized bit of evidence could crack Reggie Lee’s mysterious disappearance wide open.

Within 15 minutes, all the members
of the task force had arrived at the farm. An intensive manhunt of the surrounding neighborhoods was outlined. Search teams were deployed to adjacent residential areas looking for the killers and warning neighbors. When the police and FBI initially arrived at the farm wanting to interview the family and search for evidence in the cabin Clint described, they were prepared for a woodland search and a few family interviews. They were not prepared for another crime spree and an all-out manhunt. An officer had been wounded, Alcott Earl Raines was dead, Hattie Raines was fighting for her life en route to the emergency room and the Raines brothers were running wild through the woods. They had to be contained before they too were killed. Police put a call out for more resources, both man and canine. Within 90 minutes 2 helicopters landed near the Raines family farm.  Another team of Bloodhounds, dual trained as tracker and cadaver dogs arrived from Virginia and a team of German Shepard dogs trained to track and subdue arrived from Pennsylvania. These dogs and their handlers were assigned to work with the Kentucky team. The dogs were ready to track the Parkland Killers no matter where they went. Howling and barking intensified as the excitement grew.

One
Task Force member was appointed team lead for each of the search teams The Kentucky team took the German Shepard dog team and began working their way east starting at the Raines farm. The Virginia team would comb through the farm and the surrounding forest with the Bloodhound team. The West Virginia team that was assigned to water tracking started patrolling the waterways. The North Carolina team was assigned to work the area west of the farm. The Ohio team would cover downtown Hurricane and surrounding neighborhoods.  Chester Rugger would man the command post.

Lou Fairmont took charge of inter-state communications and media relations. He contacted the FBI in Quantico to update them and ask for reinforcements. He contacted the press and prepared a statement to warn local residents that killers were on the loose and to
remain indoors until further notice. He cautioned that the killers were not to be approached under any circumstances and should be considered armed and extremely dangerous. The West Virginia Board of Education was asked to close the schools in the county and residents were asked to keep their children home from school. Local businesses were asked to offer liberal leave for parents who needed to stay home and care for their children. Although the killers did not have a pattern of harming children, this was not the time to take chances. Residents were warned not to open their doors to anyone no matter what they said and to call 911 if they saw or heard anything suspicious. Radio and TV stations began broadcasting this message every 15 minutes starting with the 4AM news report.

“We’ve got something,” static came across the police ban radio in Chester’s hand. It was the
Virginia team lead searching the Raines woods, “Dogs have a scent. Don’t know if it’s the killers’ but we’re running hard,” the breathless speech crackled over the radio. Barking was heard, then howling, then yelling. Men were shouting. A second team was rushing to join the first team, but it was not possible to tell what was going on. Barking then aggressive growling could be heard then someone yelling, “Get him off me! Call off your dogs! I’m with you!”

It was Clint.
One of the dogs picked up his scent trail as he was sneaking into a shed on a neighbor’s property. The dog had cornered him and when Clint raised his gun went for him. Officers brought him back to the farm where he received treatment for a circle of puncture wounds on his right forearm. They would keep him there until his brother was located. It was hoped they would then be calm enough to join their sisters at the hospital where their mother had been admitted. It would be easier if all the Raines children could be collected and kept in one place.

“Chief
… chief,” staccato words over the headset.

“Go ahead, Virginia,” Chester responded.

“Got something here… our Bloodhound has picked something up and she’s pulling hard.  Advise, over.”

“You have back
-up with you?”

“Yes, Sir,” returned the handler.

“Split up. Make sure you’re not walking into an ambush,” came back the response. Chester knew the value of these dogs and had learned through the years to follow the dog’s lead. This Bloodhound, Wilma had a national reputation as a cadaver dog with over 60 finds to her credit. He waited to see what she came up with. He hated to think what it was... and wondered how things could possibly get any worse.

“All Teams, check in,” Chester said over the open mike.  Team leads reported: “Nothing yet,
following coordinates.”

“Quiet here. No one’s awake.”

“Well, don’t waste time waiting for people to wake up. Start knocking on doors, wake people up. They need to be on guard. Any sign of the other brother? ” Chester asked.

“No, Sir,” they all re
sponded.

“Well, someone find him
G-d Dammit. We don’t need another dead body out here unless it’s one of the killers. Someone get a dog on his scent and find the SOB. I want those boys out of here.” Chester was exhausted and things were going from bad to worse. He was functioning on adrenaline and caffeine. “North Carolina, check in,” Chester paced, police radio in hand. He watched paramedics treat Clint who stared fixedly as the Medical Examiner’s assistants carried his father’s body out to their van.

“North Carolina here,” a crackly voice
interrupted, “We’re at the river’s edge about 2 miles from your location. We’ve got the brother. We’re bringing him back. He’s not resisting.”

“Good work,” Chester said, relieved, “over and out.”

“Oh, and Sir,” Squad leader said hastily, “We found a knapsack by the water. We’re bagging it.”

“Okay, North Carolina, check in
again in 10. And make sure that brother gets his ass back here!” Fifteen minutes later two solemn Raines brothers stood shoulder to shoulder and watched as the glowing red tail-lights on the Medical Examiner’s van disappeared down the winding road.

Chester contacted each of his teams one after the other for the next 20 minutes when there was a sudden crackle on the radio. “W
e got something, Sir,” the dog handler from the Virginia team said quickly. Chester heard howling and commotion over the radio and his heart sank. ‘Oh G-d now what?’ he thought. Over the open mike he heard his officers talking back and forth.

“Shine it over here,” one of them said, “pull
the dog back,” said the other one. “Shovel over here…”

“
What is that thing?”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty big.”

“… in that snow pile.”

“
Is that a head?” … more rustling and commotion.

“
Looks pretty old...” 

“Don’t let he
r dig over there.”

“Wilma, off
!”

“
Looks like we got a body, Sir,” the first patrolman said.

“We’ve got a body
!”

‘Oh Shit!’ Chester thought, but he said, “Okay, Virginia, send me your coordinates and remain at your location.” Chester pressed the mute button and called over to Lou, “We’ve got another body.”

Lou rushed over, “What happened? Who’d they get?”

“It’s an old body, Lou. A cadaver dog found it.”

Lou stopped short. “An old body?” he repeated.

“This may be ground zero,” he said.
“I’ll head over there and see what we’ve got. You keep the rest of the search operation running.”

He pulled three officers aside and said,
“We’ve got another crime scene, you three come with me. Call the ME and tell him we need him back here.” The rest of you head back to the lab and start processing….”

The Parkland killers were close, very close. Chester could feel it in his bones. It was a
ppalling that the killers had the balls, to walk into their command center, right into the Raines home, right under their noses. They were most certainly losing their grip on things. They were taking way too many risks. It was crazy. And yet, he had to admit, incredibly enough they got away. They actually got away with it. Right under their noses and they were gone again. He poured himself another cup of coffee and paced around with it. He couldn’t quite believe it. The killers stood on a hill and watched police activity; then escaped through the woods to the river, swam right past them, escaping again, then got out of the water and walked right into the farmhouse, killing Earl and maybe killing Hattie, too and escaping through the cellar. It was unreal. These guys could walk through walls. He’d never seen such nerve or such dumb luck. He felt overwhelmed. And he was furious with himself that he had not anticipated this move. None of them had predicted it. It was appalling. Skill and predictions aside it was Killers 5 and LEO’s 0! Chester did not like that score.

“All teams check in,” he said into his radio.

“West Virginia reporting, Sir,” a voice said. “Nothing new here.  Met a few civilians, everyone agreed to return home and wait for the all clear, nothing else to report.”

“
North Carolina, checking in, we’re patrolling the river, found a hunting knife, looks like it’s only been in the water for a little while, maybe a few hours. We might be able to get something off it.”

Another voice crackled across the radio, “Virginia checking in from this new crime scene. FBI just got here with the ME and CSI’s.  We’re setting up lights and a perimeter.”

Chester waited as the team lead filled in the sketchy details. “…a woman’s body… ME says she’s been in the ground at least 8 years, maybe more… hard to assess with all the snow and the ground nearly frozen solid.”

“
FBI’s in charge just keep me in the loop,” Chester disconnected to concentrate on the other teams.