Monster

When we found the body of Gloria Stoltz that made three victims for the week.  Normally we have about one homicide a year here in Red Bluff, California and most of the time it is due to a heated domestic dispute, but the three victims had been strangled and brutalized before they died. Then the killer buried the remains in a secluded area which is one thing we got plenty of in Red bluff. Seclusion keeps the tourists rolling in during the summer, but it can also provide a hideout for the monster that has found a nest here in our neck of the woods.

I'm Sheriff Tanner Youlseff and I've been the sheriff in Red bluff going on twenty years. Can't say it's too demanding at least until now.  

 "Hey Tan, got any leads?" Deputy Harlen Turner asked when he walked into the office for duty.

"Not a single lead." I huffed, "All three women were college students from Berkeley, but that's where the connection ends." 

"Except for where they were murdered." He poured coffee from the thermos he brought.

"Even that causes me some puzzlement." I walked over to the map hanging on our wall.  I had put three red tacks in the places we had found the young women's bodies, one, two, three red tacks. What grabbed me by the guts was, there could be more victims that we hadn't found yet.  Doris Clement, the first victim we found, was discovered by a hiker.  The killer hadn't even bothered to bury her body.  Betty Rogan was found by a hunter who was tracking a buck.  Betty had been rolled into a carpet and covered with leaves and loose dirt. Hardly much effort was made to conceal her body, but Gloria Stoltz was found in a grave four feet into the hard soil near Shasta Lake. It made me uneasy to consider that there might be more than one monster running amok in the woods.

What made me assured that we only had one monster, was how each of the young woman had been murdered.  The coroner, Dr. Bailey reported the women had all been strangled and sexually assaulted before expiring.  Laying the reports side by side, only the victims names were different, but the details of their murders were nearly identical, so much so that my back teeth were tingling.  It was a sure sign my police instincts were working.  This tingling had had served me in the past.  

"Chief, I need to go talk to Calvin Beasley." Harlen said as he strapped on his holster.

"What's up with Scooter?" I asked.  

We had grown up together, Calvin and I, and he took over the general store when his father had a stroke.  We would go fishing and play poker with some of the other locals.

"He's got some shoplifters." Harlen walked toward the door.

"Let me tag along with you." I joined him as he opened the door.  

"I need to get me something for lunch." Harlen always walked fast and I always had to walk fast to keep up. "Do you think we can find this perpetrator?"

"I have no doubt we will." I said as Harlen opened the old wooden door to Beasley's General store, "These guys usually slip up and we will be there to nab him."

"I hate to think we have to wait until he's murdering someone else." He glanced over at me.  I had never considered that and it gave me pause for A moment until I heard Calvin's voice ring out.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." He folded his arms over his expanding belly and chuckled.

"Hey Calvin, come to check out your civil complaint." Harlen stood in front of the counter.

     "College kids.  Didn't their parents teach them right from wrong?" The smile vanished from his face. "Had a group in here the other day.  They didn't take anything valuable, but they definitely stuffed their pockets with junk food.  They were all wearing those hooded sweatshirts. So that's why I made the complaint." 

"Tell you what, give me a call if they come back and I will come in." Harlen finished writing in his pad.

"Sure, sure, that ought to do it." Calvin put both hands on the counter. "You got any leads on the psycho, yet?"

"Nope." I shook my head.

"I heard it was Jonas McCracken." Calvin rang up Harlen's lunch of  a hot dog, a can of soda, and some chips.

"What makes you say that?" I pushed my Smokey Bear hat to the back of my head. 

"Gunther, my stocker said he saw him with one of the girls." He bagged up Harlen's lunch and gave him his change and receipt.

I got out my pad, "So, where's Gunther now." 

"He lives in a trailer up on Treeline Road." Calvin pointed as if I was A tourist asking directions, "He's probably sleeping.  He got off shift at midnight." 

"Well then, I reckon I will have to wake him up, eh?" I said.

"He's ornery when he's woke up." Calvin shrugged.

"Well then, I guess I'll take my chances." I said as I walked out with Harlen.

"Are you going up there?" Harlen pointed to the rugged road carved into the hill above the town.

"Yup, going to take the jeep." I nodded.

When I got there after nearly sliding down the gravel road with a steep grade in some places and sharp switchbacks, I knocked on the door of an ancient trailer that had almost been bleached white in the sun.  I heard heavy footsteps approaching the closed door.  When it opened, a pot bellied, white bearded man stood there rubbing his blue eyes, "Yeah."

His yeah did not sound friendly.  Calvin under sold his crankiness as I flashed my badge.

"What the hell do you want, sheriff?" His voice cracked a bit.  I could smell stale whiskey and beer wafting out of his tiny abode as well as on his bad breath.

"Ask you a few questions?" I shrugged.

"Yeah, c'mon in." He held the aluminum door open for me.

"That's okay, why don't we talk out here.  Nice day." 

"Fine." He huffed and stepped out like a bear rising from hibernation.

"I want to talk to you about Jonas McCracken."

"Figured you'd be by eventually." He ran his thick fingers over his face and yawned. "Came into Josie's the other night.  He's a college kid who likes speaking highly of himself.  Big shot right from his fancy college clothes to his sophisticated words.  Makes my skin crawl."

I nodded as he continued.

"Starts bragging about this girl he bagged the night before.  Goes into detail.  I tell Nick, the bartender, how sick I am of all his talk." He shakes his head as if to clear out the cobwebs of sleep.  

"Have you ever see this girl?" I asked.

"No, Josie's is a men’s only bar." He snorts. I had been in there a few times to break up some fights when the patrons got too rowdy.  Women knew better than to go in that place.  There were rumors of illegal card games going on in the backroom, but there was A button under the bar the bartender would press whenever we came in.  It sounded an alarm so the dealer could stop the game.  After A while I quit trying to see what was going on back there. "Sheriff, if you put that punk behind bars, you'd have your killer."

"I'll keep that in mind." I tipped my hat, "Thank you for the information.  I will let you get back to sleep, Gunther. But I have one more question."

He turned and faced me as he walked inside.

"Did he ever come into the store with one of the women?"   

"Not that I saw." He closed the door behind him.  

I knew I'd better high tail it out of there, because the lazy afternoon was starting to set amid the jagged horizon. No one wanted to drive Treeline road in the dark no matter how long you lived out here.

On A hunch, that night I went into Josie's where Victor greeted me with a wave and A greeting, "Hey there Sheriff Youlseff."

"Slugger." I sat down on an empty barstool.  Victor earned his name playing in the minors until he reasoned the call to the majors wasn't coming.  He still had the swagger and the olive complexion of A much younger man, " Was wondering if Jonas McCracken is in here tonight."

"Yeah, in the booth right over there." he pointed to where Jonas was chatting up a young woman who leaned closer to him with every word.  I sauntered over and sat next to the pretty lady.  She turned and scrawled at me.

"Miss, could you excuse us for a minute?" I asked.  She shrugged, but complied by walking away.  I turned my eyes to Jonas.

"What do you want?" He grimaced.

"Just what I said, A word with you." I signaled the waitress, "Gin and tonic."

She nodded. Jonas was wearing some fashion designer clothes and had the attitude of A spoiled child, "So you are the sheriff of this one-horse town?"

"Fraid not, the horse died years ago." I took my drink from the waitress.  This drew A chuckle from the boy. "What I am interested in are the three women you escorted this summer." 

"What about them?" He squinted.

"Three murder victims." I held up three fingers.

"What are you insinuating?" He took a sip of his beer.

"I am just a small town sheriff and when something smells rotten, I must see what is causing the stink." I tilted my head without taking my eyes off of him.

"I had nothing to do with it.  I don't need to murder them to get what I want, sheriff." His half smirk made me angry. I wanted to cuff him and drag him to my jail cell.  Tourists could be so condescending at times.  This riled me to no end.

"I have a statement saying these women were last seen with you and that makes you a prime suspect." I pointed my finger at him like A pistol.

"These women were alive when I drove them home the next morning." He laughed and wiggled his eyebrows. "Those three weren't the only ones I was with, by the way. Your waitress..."

I reached out and grabbed him by his collar and pulled him to me across the table. "You son of a bitch"

Lisa was the daughter of one of my close friends.  I went to her christening.

"Let go of me sheriff." He managed to say, "Police brutality is getting big press these days."

I loosened my grip as he slid back into his seat. Looking around, I saw everyone at the bar staring at me. I sniffed and stood up.

"Sheriff don't go, I need your badge number." He laughed, his face still crimson red. I said a couple of words that I don't wish to repeat. 

Mayor Clyde Solligus called me into his office. "Sheriff, I heard what you did at Josie's."

"So has the local newspaper." I plopped into the chair in front of his desk.

"I can't have you beating up the out of towners." He stood up and walked to the window turning his back on me, "We need some answers on these murders.  Walking into a bar and harassing customers is not how to solve this."

"I got a citizen who is willing to make a statement claiming Jonas McCracken is the killer. Forensics does not have any physical evidence on the victims.  In the report, it is documented that there is no evidence of rape or physical assault." 

"How can that be?" He shrugged.

"No evidence does not make it conclusive.  It just means we can't make positive identification."  I said and he turned, but I could see from his expression, he had doubts.

"We are taking on water, Tanner.  If we don't solve this one, we will sink economically.  The Chamber of Commerce is ready to run both of us out of town.  I need you to find the killer. The newspaper has pictures of those girls on the front page everyday.  We need to put a stop to that." 

"I will do what I can." I nodded as I stood to leave.

"I am counting on you, Tanner." He pointed his finger at me.

"You should have arrested him."  Harlen was sitting at his desk playing solitaire when I walked in deflated from my conversation with the mayor.  

"I need to have a talk with Gunther." I sighed.

"Why?" 

"I got this nagging feeling that something doesn't add up." I put my head in my hands.

"Play you hunch, boss." 

Harlen was right.  All my life I had the good sense to listen to my hunches. When I was out there, I felt something was out of sync.  I punched A few computer keys and could not believe my eyes. Gunther was not his real name, it was Earl Trumbly.  Earl had a long rap sheet that included assault and battery.  He was released from Folsom Prison eighteen years ago and drifted to Red Bluff where he blended in with the rest of the citizens.  No one suspected a thing once he changed his name.  As part of his parole, Earl was supposed to see a therapist since he was diagnosed with a psychopathic personality disorder. I knew that condition was never met at least since he changed his name.

"I need to pay Gunther a visit." I announced grabbing the keys to the jeep.

"Want some company?" Harlen asked.

"I should be alright." I shrugged as I walked out the door.

As I drove, I reminisced about some of the stories my dad told me about scary creatures that inhabited the woods we were camping in them. As scary as these nocturnal monsters walked in the dark shadows of the night, the monsters that took human form were far more frightening than any mythological beasts hiding out in these woods. 

It was getting dark. In a week the summer season would be over and the tourists would finally be on their way home.  I needed to take Gunther, I mean Earl, in for questioning even if it meant driving him back to town in the dark.  As my headlights scanned the skeletal pines that grew out of the rocks of the steep hill, I saw the light and shadows play tricks on my eyes.  Shapes became the dreaded monsters my dad warned  me about. Cannibals and cold blooded killers once called these places home.

I suddenly wished I had Harlen with me, but it was too late for that now.  I would have to do this on my own.  

Was my pride so big, I was willing to risk my life to take Earl down by myself? My ex wife accused me of that before she walked out the door. She may have been right about that after all.   

Pulling into the driveway, Earl’s trailer was dark.  If not for my headlight beams, I would not have seen the trailer.  Exiting the Jeep, I heard muffled cries coming from just over the ridge.  Hard enough to scale the ridge in daylight, having to do this in total darkness was insane.  I had my flashlight in one hand and my pistol in the other.

When I finally managed to get to the crest, I could not believe my eyes.  Anchored to a large stone was a very frightened young woman.  Her legs and feet were shackled and she desperately tried to get herself free.

"Help me." She pleaded with tears in her eyes.

"Where is he?" I asked, shining my flashlight all around, but there was only the shadows and the voices of the birds calling from the safety of their perches.  

"I don't know." Her voice was a harsh rasp.

I put my hands on the cold iron restraints, but there was nothing I could do to free her.

"He has the key." She sobbed in terror, "And he says I am to be sacrificed to the moon god.  Mister, I don't know what he means by that." 

That's when it hit me like a thunderbolt.  Earl was changing his MO, he was evolving into a killer who justified his motives on the basis of an imposed morality.   Often taking the form of ritualistic sacrifice, Earl was using this ritual sacrifice as a way to cleanse moralistic shortcomings of those brought to his altar.  It reminded me of Charlie Manson's cult followers over fifty years ago with the exception, Earl had no one following him. Not yet.

She screamed.  I heard two loud popping sounds followed by a grunt and then something heavy hitting the ground.  When I turned with my flashlight, I saw Earl lying face down on the ground.

"I had a hunch you might need some help." Harlen stepped into the beam of my flashlight with his pistol still smoking. When I flashed my light on Earl, I saw the big butcher knife lying on the ground next to his body. 

"You saved my life." I was stunned, "You drove up here in the dark?" 

Harlen had the key and was removing the shackles from the young lady's arms and legs. He smiled as he put A blanket around her bare shoulders. "What's your name, miss?"

"Olive, Olive Rauch." She was trembling beneath the blanket. 

"We're going back to town." I told her as we walked toward the Jeep. 

"He kept talking about how tourists were bringing evil into the town." Olive sobbed between words.

"It's okay, you're safe now." Harlen assured her.  

Driving back, I began to write the report in my head.  The word monster frequently appeared in my internal narrative.