Blood Appeal Read online

  “Y’all stay away from my woman, or there’s going to be real trouble,” he shouted.

  I picked up my pace.

  Duke pointed at me, “You ain’t wanted here, and you ain’t stayin’.”

  I neared the front of his rig and slowed my advance. He could abuse his wife, he’d proven that. But if Hyde got loose what was Duke capable of? I wanted to know. I inched closer.

  It was my turn to bump chests. I needed him to swing first. Then I was free to act in my defense and not incur Joyce’s wrath. Stepping as close as humanly possible I gave him the opportunity to get busy and throw the first punch, but something stopped him. I surmised it was fear, for he reeked of it. I upped the ante. “I like it here—I’m staying.” If a fresh challenge tossed in his face didn’t escalate the situation, nothing would.

  “It’s too crowded round here for the both of us.”

  “In Shell Knob?” I laughed at my sarcasm. “Then you need to be leaving town.”

  Was I back in high school? Not that I fought all that much in those days, but an upper classman tagged me once during an arts and crafts class that resulted in a crescent shaped scar on my right eyelid. He was a bully, and I made every bully I came across pay for his transgression.

  “Take your best shot,” I said. He gave me a look that said he wasn’t in any hurry to test my abilities.

  “You can’t scare me Stud.”

  “I beg to differ. You’ve been afraid of me from the day I arrived. Call me Stud again and I’ll slap the hillbilly out of you.”

  He broke eye contact and looked at Joyce, who stood watching from the porch stairs. “I’d sure enough take you up on that—”

  I cut him off, “Right now—let’s finish it.”

  “I don’t have the time right now.” He turned and jumped into his Ford. The engine roared to life, and he peeled out toward the open road. When he hit pavement with the pickup’s back tires, the rig fishtailed until he let off the gas. Last I saw of him was a one finger salute. Since I was a polite sort of guy, I didn’t wave one back. Next time, and I was confident there’d be a next time, I’d bend that finger all the way off and stick it in his nasty mouth.

  I returned to the porch where Joyce stood, arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “That went well.” She turned and walked up the porch stairs. At the door, she turned toward me, “I’m glad that’s over.” Joyce stepped inside closing the door behind her.

  I stood on the porch and muttered to myself, “Ain’t nothing over,” but there was no one within earshot which was just as well.

  I kept my eye out for Duke with a slight hope he’d changed his mind and sped back for round two. We could dispense with the verbal jousting and get down to business. I needed Duke’s spousal abuse settled and out of my hair. I needed to devote my time and energy, helping the powers that be snag the Shell Knob murderer.

  Joyce and I didn’t talk the rest of the evening. I didn’t know why. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I’d handled the situation and subsequent physical intervention without getting too nasty.

  Early the next morning, I fired up the Avenger and took a little drive. Alone. Typically, I would have asked Joyce along, or at least informed her where I was going, give her a hug and kiss good-bye, but not this time. I was on a mission to settle this mess once and for all. Duke wasn’t going to listen to reason voluntarily and was evidently a slow learner too. He and I alone together might find a compromise to his bad behavior. I made a beeline to Dixon Holler.

  The possibility existed that Duke was incapable of learning the lesson. I’d cross that bridge if and when it happened. I recalled a sagacious school teacher that had said to me, “The teacher hasn’t taught until the learner’s learned.” I accepted partial responsibility for Duke, who under my tutelage, hadn’t risen to the heights of comprehension I had expected. For me to rectify my shortcomings as an educator, I would double-down with one-to-one motivation. I didn’t choose to be his teacher, but the way I saw it, there wasn’t anyone around Shell Knob, who cared enough to lay it out for him. That left me.

  One thing I was sure of, Duke knew how his nasty attitude and atrocious behavior affected the local town’s folk, and he thrived on their reaction. Joyce had commented that Duke didn’t care what other people thought of him. I saw it differently. He cared a great deal. That’s why he continued his façade as a tough guy. He liked being that person.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t one of the good ol’ boys, and I cared a great deal how he acted. As a result, I was willing to lend a helping hand. He’d either straighten up or die while I was trying to help him. There wasn’t another option on the table.

  Admittedly my mood had grown dark, and for good reason. I’d set my sights on lying low and staying off law enforcement’s radar. My work had brought plenty of trouble in the past, and I wanted to avoid those problems in Shell Knob. My desire to remain hidden forced me to “tiptoe around the bush” with Duke. That wasn’t my style. I’d rather burn the bush to the ground. I wanted our meeting to be face-to-face, up-front and matter-of-fact. If he got stupid, I’d slap it out of him.

  I pulled my Avenger to a stop directly in front of Duke’s house. I didn’t see his rig and assumed he wasn’t home. Minnie’s AMC Eagle sat parked in the morning shade. It didn’t mean Minnie was home, but if she were, I’d hang out with her for a while, and rattle Duke’s cage when he arrived. He’d go off half-cocked again, and I’d push his buttons into action. I’d convinced myself Minnie’s life depended on my success. For a change, it would be nice to resolve a problem without killing it.

  I knocked on the door jamb. No one answered. I listened for sounds from within the house then knocked again louder. With no response, I concluded Minnie was likely with Duke running errands. They were known to travel together frequently, especially around Shell Knob.

  I returned to my Avenger, walking slowly while listening for sounds coming from the gun range, but there was a ghostly silence in the holler. My hackles rose. There were eyes watching my every move. I cranked the car engine and waited for the air conditioning to kick out cool air. My binoculars had slipped from the center console onto the passenger side floorboard. I leaned to my right reaching for the binoculars’ neck strap. The eerie feeling intensified. I’d had the “heebie-jeebies” before, and this was a sure case.

  Quickly, I glanced toward the house. I wasn’t sure what I saw in the window, but there was movement, and it struck me as unnatural. Possibly it was nothing more than a breeze filtering through the house, but a kitchen shade moved to one side. There wasn’t any air stirring outside. I had a hunch I wasn’t alone after all.

  I turned off the engine, stepped out of the Avenger, and walked to the front door. I knocked aggressively leaving no doubt I meant business. I knocked twice more, still without a response. Country bumpkins were a lot like their city slicker counterparts—predictable. Urbanites and citified dwellers had a habit of locking doors. I could count on it whether they were home or not. But their country cousins rarely locked their doors. I reached down and turned the handle, and pushed the front door open wide.

  “Hey,” I called out to the empty room. No one responded. “I’m coming in!”

  Suddenly, to my left, Minnie stood in the kitchen doorway. Her head bowed sheepishly, and her hands clasped together at her waist in front of her. Her behavior wasn’t unusual. I’d come to expect it from her, especially when Duke was present. She had turned back toward the kitchen before she spoke.

  “You shouldn’t be here Mister Goe.”

  “No sense to be formal, Minnie. Besides, I didn’t come by to talk to you. Where’s Duke?”

  She shrugged. “He left early this morning.”

  The submission gig played out to her benefit when Duke was around. I understood that. If Duke was here, her actions were on target, but according to her, he wasn’t home. She was hiding someone or something from me.

  I moved in close, I wanted to look her in the eye and put pressure on her to tell me the truth
. With my hand, I turned Minnie toward me and lifted her head to where our eyes could meet. She was hiding someone from me—herself. You didn’t have to be an Einstein to figure out she’d been beaten, and not long ago. Her facial bruising was fresh. The submissive act wasn’t an act at all. She was ashamed. She’d been adamant one day earlier that Duke didn’t abuse her. Now she was forced to admit the truth. It was a sorry way to get caught in a lie.

  “Don’t attempt to make any excuses for Duke this time,” I snapped.

  Minnie teary-eyed, cried out, “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have said anything to Duke.”

  I grabbed her by both shoulders, “Stop it! Stop it right now.” My voice was curt with anger. “Stop making excuses for what he’s doing to you.”

  “I shouldn’t have told him that Joyce stopped by yesterday. I made him mad. I should have kept my mouth shut.”

  Minnie had been young and lovely once, and it wasn’t all that long ago, but the years with Duke had taken their toll on her, emotionally, and physically. I took her by the hand and led her to the living room couch. She sat quietly and gazed at the floor in front of her. Whatever she was thinking caused her anxiety level to rise. She wrung her hands, which temporarily masked their shaking. I gently turned her chin with my fingers until our eyes met. I couldn’t help feeling pity for her. She was too frightened and too wounded to make the right choice. Why should Duke be treated differently than a murderer? He’d killed all that Minnie had been, leaving only the shell of her former self. And he wasn’t finished yet. Duke was working his way to destroying her physically as well.

  “You need to get out of here. There is nothing right about the way Duke treats you.”

  “Duke is everything to me, and I know he loves me.”

  “You’re lying to yourself. You can keep telling yourself that same old line, but it doesn’t cut it. What he’s going to do is kill you one of these days. Do you understand that? That’s what wife abusers end up doing.”

  If fear worked to wake her up, I was willing to use it. But, Minnie’s response was indecisive to my scare tactics. I went out on a limb and offered her my protection, but she refused to discuss the option. She was either sincere in her belief that Duke unconditionally loved her or she was an idiot. I didn’t know which fit. If she honestly believed Duke loved her—she was utterly wrong.

  “What’s going to happen when you tell Duke I was here today? Don’t answer—you know. He’ll beat you or worse.”

  Minnie nodded, placed her hands over her face, and quietly wept. I waited with the hope she’d change her mind, but that hope faded rapidly. I’d been around and seen more than my share of horrible scenarios, but I’d never dealt with anyone like Minnie. I was baffled.

  After a few minutes, I said, “Don’t get up, I’m leaving.” I walked to the front door and opened it. I was inclined to try once more, but I didn’t want to look at her again. I had to cut all ties to my emotions, or they would rule my decisions. With my back toward her I said, “Do yourself a favor and get out while you still can.”

  I waited another minute. Thoughts bombarded me. Perhaps I was acting hastily by leaving with ideas unsaid. Time hadn’t run out for her, only a chance to act while I was present. At the same instance, I saw her as a lost cause. You can’t free someone from the shackles they hold in high regard.

  Back in the Avenger, I slipped it into gear and idled around the pond before heading down the draw. I watched in my rearview mirror until the house was hidden from view. Minnie had made her decision.

  I let the car roll in whatever direction it wanted to go. Maybe the drive would clear my mind. I went one direction, turned and went another. It didn’t matter; they were all the same. One road flowed into another. I was lost in time, thought, and location. I passed an old fashioned road sign that read, “Cassville 6 miles.” I hadn’t planned to enter the town and skipped taking the exit. A moment later, reacting to an unknown prompt, I swung a right turn onto Mill Road, which led into Cassville. I pulled to a stop on Main Street and waited for the green light.

  The turn had brought me to the city center or what there was of one. At two in the afternoon, there wasn’t much activity. Not much different than any other time of the day. Part of the charm of a sparsely populated hamlet was the lack of crowded roadways. I let my Avenger drift through the streets while I kept an eye out for Duke. We had unfinished business. His abusive behavior and my Palatini oath were on a collision course. I promised to protect the innocent and I wasn’t willing to let it slide any longer. Why should I turn a blind eye like all the others had done in Minnie’s life?

  I wanted to give Joyce a call and bring her up to speed on what I’d seen at Dixon’s, but why bother. She wasn’t on board with the idea of rough and tumble, and that’s what it was going to take to get the point across. Victories are won in the will of the warrior’s heart. Or, as one old sage counseled me, “You’ve got to have a want to.” She didn’t have what it took to defeat Duke at his game. I did.

  I swung into a fast food joint to get a cup of Java. After I’d paid the cashier, I pushed the lid down tight for the car ride and headed toward the exit. That was as far as I made it. Jay Landers stepped through the door and immediately stopped me in my tracks.

  “Wait up. Grab us a booth, okay?”

  I slipped into a booth with my back to the wall. I let Landers sit with his back exposed to the entrance. When he joined me, he never noticed the seating arrangements. His mind was on what he wanted to say. For some reason, it bothered me. Someday, when he’s gone through enough trials by fire, he’d develop the “Gunfighter syndrome.” From then on he’d never leave his back exposed.

  Landers brought burgers and fries to the table, enough for the both of us. I nibbled on the tasty morsels and sipped my coffee. Jay appeared to be in a hurry. With his mouth half full and between bites he said, “The Sheriff’s Department received a positive ID on the dead girl. They’re not releasing her name. She was twelve-years-old.”

  “From Alaska?”

  “It was her.” I could see Landers liked to be right. He leaned forward and whispered, “The abduction was reported eight weeks ago.”

  “Eight weeks ago. Why was she all the way down here?”

  “Exactly?”

  “Jay, that means your anonymous source was spot-on. Whoever she is, she has firsthand knowledge, and she wanted you to know the truth.”

  Landers sat back, stuffed a handful of fries in his mouth, and blurted out, “Weird, huh?”

  “Listen, Jay, you and your source might be in danger. Whoever the killer is, he knows the person that called you. There’s no other explanation how she knew the details. If you refer to a source other than police in your writings, the killer might figure out who squealed. It might be the reason you haven’t heard from her since the initial contact. She might already be a victim. Whoever she is, she’s in a perilous position.”

  “I can’t help her unless she calls again.”

  “True.” Landers had no idea I’d been struggling with a similar situation for the past twenty-four hours. Minnie needed help the same way his source needed help. Scenarios of this nature, left unresolved, frequently spiraled out of control. I’ve found it a difficult task to get people to see the only way out alive required them to take drastic measures. The sad fact in Minnie’s case was she chose not to help herself when she had the chance. Now I had to do it my way. Landers source might not have had an option either. She too made a choice—a wrong choice. Instead of letting the cat out of the bag with a reporter, the right thing was to call the cops. But, she didn’t. She wanted Landers to do the dirty work and bring out the story. That’s the way I saw it.

  “Does the Sheriff have any idea how this kid got to Missouri?”

  “Detectives say they have leads, but I seriously doubt they have anything substantial. They are asking the public for help.”

  “You’re aware a kidnapping and murder across state boundaries means FBI involvement?”

 
“Hadn’t thought about that angle. It’s becoming a bigger story.”

  “Play your cards right and you’ll get national coverage.”

  We finished up, and I thanked Landers for the grub. At the exit, he turned toward me, “I’m heading to my office. I’m going to pray the caller is still alive, and God will put a bug in her ear.”

  “I didn’t take you to be a religious man, Jay.”

  “I’m not, but it can’t hurt to try.”

  “Don’t forget to follow up the FBI angle.”

  He winked and pointed his finger at me as he walked backward out the double entry doors. Landers was out of the parking lot before I’d refilled my coffee. I climbed into the Avenger and set out on the hunt. The heat index had the makings of a dog day afternoon.

  Chapter 6

  “No plan survives contact with the enemy.”

  —Helmuth Von Molkte

  Seated behind the steering wheel of my Avenger, I crisscrossed Cassville’s streets in search for the reason of my unhappiness. With every turn of the wheels, my resolve to end Duke’s reign of terror grew.

  The main drag through town was exactly that, a real drag. The monotony wore on me, adding to my frustration with every passing second. The day was growing long, and I wanted to make things happen. Driving around wasn’t getting the job done. Joyce had invited me to hang out with her old gang at a bar in Cassville. I’d declined but found myself wishing I’d paid closer attention to what she’d said. The name of the joint escaped me. Duke liked his beer and he liked to brag and run his mouth. Assuming I found the watering hole, I’d find Duke too. It was the best lead I had. I followed it.

  It was four-forty-five when I spotted Dixon’s camouflaged pickup parked on the 9th Street side of a rustic tavern. The hand-painted branch and leaf design didn’t help it blend in well with its urban surroundings.