Monster Hunting Stranger

[csyphrett]

1

 

A foot appeared on the trail first. It wore a battered boot that had seen many miles. Then came the rest of the body until a hat appeared to shade squinting eyes. The walker straightened his long duster as he looked around.

 

Where was he now?

 

The Duster Boy saw the sun rising behind some trees. At least he knew it was early morning. The road seemed rural with its gravel surface. That put him outside major population areas. Looking around would tell him how far.

 

He had walked more than a few miles since he had boarded the Strange Express. He wondered when he would be able to settle in one place. How many more years would it be before he reached the end of the road?

 

The Duster stepped into a turn. He found himself overlooking a village. He smiled. He definitely was in a rural place. Maybe they would have some food he could get before he took off again.

 

The Duster looked for a path down to the village. He didn't want to have to descend the side of the hill into the valley. He walked down the side of the road, looking over the fence.

 

He found a trail leading to the collection of cottages and one store. He smiled. This was what the doctor ordered.

 

The Duster Boy started down the trail. He kept to the side in case he had to avoid vehicles. He also didn't want to be too visible. Country people didn't like anyone who looked like a vagrant in his experience.

 

And since he was continually passing through, that could be a small problem.

 

The Duster Boy reached the town about midday. He decided to get a drink and maybe some eggs on toast. He looked around for some kind of eatery. He found a small cafe tucked in a corner. He stepped inside, ignoring the looks directed at him.

 

Definitely strangers weren't welcome.

 

"How's it going?" The Duster Boy took his hat off. He went for a table in the back. That way he could see trouble coming through the front doors.

 

The wanderer found the Formica top didn't have a menu. It did have an ashtray. He marked it as a refusal of the normal practice of banning smoking. Most restaurants had gone that way to get in line with the local custom.

 

They sponsored the health of their customers' lungs while serving them barely edible food that covered their arteries with plaque.

 

"What you want?" The waitress didn't hold her pad to take his order. She peered down at him through giant horn rims.

 

"What you got?" The Duster smiled at her. Maybe he could charm the battle axe.

 

"Mostly nothing." The waitress didn't smile back.

 

"Could I have some coffee, eggs, and toast?" The Duster kept smiling. He had been in plenty of bad places with plenty of surly people. What was one more?

 

"Would you like some hash browns?" The waitress didn't write anything down. He knew that was a bad sign.

 

"No, thank you." The Duster Boy tapped the table. "Could I have some bacon?"

 

"I don't see why not." The waitress turned away. She walked back behind the counter and started talking to the cook.

 

Maybe his charm hadn't worked after all.

 

The Duster Boy looked at the other customers. They all looked at him. He kept his hands in sight. He wanted to avoid trouble, not spur it on.

 

And he sensed he was on the verge of trouble. He could read it in the way they sat on their seats, glaring at him. He wondered why the hostility. He had only talked to the waitress and her customer skills were lacking.

 

He hoped they didn't add nonfood items to his food if they served him at all.

 

A burly man in flannel and a badge came in. He started walking toward Duster Boy. This was the get out of town speech coming.

 

"How do?" The sheriff settled in the booth's other bench with a creak of wood.

 

"Doing fine, officer." The Duster Boy smiled. Naturally someone had called the law on him. He should have seen that coming. "Just getting some lunch before I move on."

 

"And what brings you to our little home?" The law man waved at the waitress, then made a pouring gesture.

 

"Luck." The Duster Boy leaned back in his chair. "I saw your town from the main road and decided to come down and get something to eat. You know how it is."

 

"Sure do." The sheriff put his hat down on the table. "What you having?"

 

"Coffee, eggs, toast, and bacon."

 

"Bring me the same thing, Myrtle." The sheriff gave her the wave again.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Great opening sequence, csyphrett!

[ghost-angel]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Ah, these are always fun. I like the start.

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Hopefully it will be okay

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

2

 

 

"I don't usually have the local police sit down to breakfast with me." The Duster Boy stirred cream into his coffee.

 

"I don't usually sit down to have breakfast with a total stranger." The sheriff poured ketchup on his eggs. "But since you scare everybody, I figured it would be the thing to do."

 

"Thanks." The Duster Boy sipped his coffee. "I'll be moving on as soon as we eat."

 

"That would probably be a good thing." The sheriff dug in. "We're having a panther problem right now. It's stirring people up."

 

"A panther problem?" The wanderer ate with slightly less gusto. He planned to enjoy this meal. Who knew when he would have enough money to eat real food again?

 

"Usually they hunt the deer, some of the smaller animals." The sheriff made a refill gesture with one hand. "Occasionally they get too old to hunt faster prey, so they come into town looking for food. We've had three attacks so far this year."

 

"Sorry to hear that." The Duster Boy put aside his cleaned plate, wiping his face and hands. The discarded napkin went on the plate. "I used to know some people who might come down to help you. I think I still have a number I can call."

 

"Big game hunters?" The sheriff smiled as he called for his third cup.

 

"Sometimes." The Duster Boy reached for his wallet to get his money. "They loved mysteries when I was there. They might come down and look at this for you."

 

"That's good of you." The sheriff sipped his coffee. "Put this on the tab, Myrtle."

 

The waitress looked stricken. The Duster Boy figured the tab rarely got paid, and never tipped. He put down a five under his plate.

 

"Let's go over to my office." The sheriff grabbed his hat. "You can call from there."

 

"All right." The wanderer grabbed his own battered hat. He waved at the people as he walked out the door. The other diners glared back.

 

They walked down the main road toward a small jail with sheriff's office written on a sign hanging over the sidewalk. The sheriff waved at people who passed him.

 

"How long have you been the sheriff?" The Duster Boy looked around. This was a piece of old fashioned America he rarely saw anymore.

 

"About ten years." The sheriff opened the door for them to enter. He waved at his deputies as he headed back to his office. "Took over from Jack Hanley after Gus Graves shot him in the face."

 

"How did that happen?" The Duster Boy couldn't help himself.

 

"Jack got a call out to the Graves place. One of the neighbors reported gunshots. Jack went out there to see what was going on. Gus ambushed him with a shotgun. He got clean away." The sheriff settled behind his desk.

 

"You ever catch up with this Graves?" The Duster Boy sat in the padded visitor's chair. This was a sit down for a spell chair.

 

"Nope." The sheriff pointed to a map of the county. A sizable area had been marked off as the Benquickie National Forest. "Gus knows those woods like the back of his hand. He lit out, and no one has seen him since. I expect he's still out there roaming the trees."

 

"No one has been able to find him?" The wanderer pushed his hat back.

 

"Nope." The lawman leaned back in his chair. "Gus was a woodsman from when he was a boy. No one is going to catch him out there unless they have some bad luck."

 

"I see." The Duster Boy did see. You didn't hunt a predator in his element unless you were sure you could get him. You were bound to lose someone before you did. "Let's get back to your panther problem. Can I use your phone?"

 

"Go ahead." The sheriff slid the phone over. "Dial one for an outside line."

 

"Hopefully the number is still the same." The wanderer punched in the number. "It's been a few years since I talked to them."

 

"My ex-wives must feel the same way." The sheriff smiled.

 

"I bet." The Duster Boy gave his name to the voice that answered. It wasn't anyone from his generation. "I was wondering if you could send some investigators to where I am. Where am I?"

 

"Star Hollow." The sheriff frowned at the other's give me more gesture. "Kentucky."

 

"Star Hollow, Kentucky." The Duster Boy nodded. "It's a predatory animal of some kind. Do you want to talk to the sheriff? Hold on."

 

He handed the phone back to the sheriff.

 

"This is Bob Powell." The sheriff looked up at the ceiling. "We think it's a panther come down from the nearby national park. Sure I can do that. What's the fax number?" Powell wrote down a number with a pen from his shirt pocket. "I'll let him know."

 

"They want to talk to you." Powell put the phone back on its cradle. "They want you to stick around."

 

"I can't promise that." The Duster Boy leaned back in his chair. "When my ride comes, that's when I have to leave. I don't have control over that."

 

"I can tell you he seemed surprised to hear that you were real." Powell stood up, reaching for his hat. "Let's go over to the doc's. They want me to fax pictures of the bodies if I have them."

 

"I've been out of touch for a long time." The Duster Boy also stood. "My traveling doesn't make me a good field hand like I used to be."

 

"Really?" Powell raised an eyebrow.

 

"Solving problems requires you to be able to stay in one spot." The Duster Boy shrugged. "Since I can't do that, it limits the kinds of problems I can solve, which limits my usefulness."

 

"I've heard of wanderlust but that's ridiculous." Powell walked on, thumbs in his belt.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Well, the sheriff was actually civil to me, which is a good sign, but it seems that I'm still caught in the Ley Line Express, which is not. Any chance of getting off it this adventure, or will I have to wait?

[death tribble]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

All good things to those that wait.

And you don't know what is coming.......

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

I fear ye not, Death Tribble (*checks the loads on his Ruger*)

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

3

 

 

The coroner, the family doctor, and the only vet in town had an office about six doors down from the sheriff's office. Powell nodded at people on the sidewalk as he led his visitor down to the brick building.

 

"Doc Wiley handles most things that come up." Powell held the door open for Duster Boy to follow him. "Emergency are airlifted across the county to Glencoe Hospital."

 

"Doctor Wiley handled the animal cases?" Duster Boy looked around. He decided the office looked like many he had seen working for the foundation, and his later traveling. The only difference he could see was Fishing Champions, Guns and Ammo, and Big Game Hunting replaced Reader's Digest and Home and Garden.

 

"Sure did, youngster." A woman looking like a gnome in a lab coat came from a rear office. Her smile turned her face into a shar-pei's. "What's going on, Bob?"

 

"This is about the panther attacks." Powell's statement wiped the smile off her face. "I need the pictures."

 

"I put them in the autopsy files." Doc Wiley waved her hand. "Come on back. Why the interest?"

 

"I know some people who might be able to help out." Duster Boy gave her his name when she looked at him. "They do this kind of thing all the time. They might be able locate this panther before it comes back."

 

"Comes back?" Wiley nodded. "Predators will do that unless something happens to them."

 

"They want to see the photos before they truck out here." Powell settled in the visitor's chair in the examining room/office. "I plan to show them one so I can write it off as a call for assistance. People won't like it, but it beats doing nothing."

 

"That gump Rogers still giving you problems?" Doc Wiley dug into her files for the recent deaths.

 

"Only everyday." Powell smiled. "He wants to go into the Benquickie with as many guns as he can get. A bunch of people will get hurt if he does that."

 

"Hunter?" Duster Boy studied the plaques on the office walls as he stood by the door. He didn't want to sit on the examining table.

 

It brought back too many bad memories.

 

"The worse one in the county if you ask me." Doc Wiley pulled a picture out of a file and examined it. "Couldn't hit the broadside of a barn. Remember when he shot Dave Caldwell's cow by mistake?"

 

"He swore it was a big deer." Powell took the picture. "Dave was about to shove Rogers's rifle where the sun don't shine."

 

Duster Boy leaned over to look at the picture. He frowned.

 

"May I?" He held out his hand for the photo.

 

The photo was a close up of a wound in a torso. The face had been above the shot. The wound had been ripped open by something sharp in parallel lines. It looked like a giant clawmark.

 

"A panther did this?" Duster Boy shifted the picture around to try to get different angles on a two dimensional surface. "Are you sure?"

 

"What do you mean?" Doc Wiley put the file down to look over his elbow.

 

"This looks too big for a big cat to do." Duster Boy brought the picture to his face and squinted. "All I see is a big clawmark. I don't see bite wounds. Did it kill its victim and not eat anything?"

 

"I have a magnifying glass." Doc Wiley went over to her equipment cupboard and came back with a handheld magnifier. "Here you go. The only thing I found missing was the heart and brain."

 

"Really?" Duster Boy ran the glass over the picture. "I would have thought otherwise."

 

"So did we." Powell smiled. "No animal attack I ever saw was so specific."

 

"I have but the animals were trained." Duster Boy frowned at the picture. "Their owners trained them to go after certain things."

 

"How did that work out?" Doc Wiley's face tried to move around on its own in unpleasant ways.

 

"The foundation shot several dogs, and their owner." Duster Boy got out his notebook. He pulled out a piece of paper from it. He pulled out a pen. "The other ran across a mystery man and his pet birds turned on him. They turned him into a blind man."

 

Duster Boy held the paper on the picture on the x-ray light screen. He flipped on the light. He started writing on the paper with the photo underneath.

 

"Does this look like a number to you two?" Duster Boy showed him what he had traced out. "It looks like a two to me."

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

4

Duster Boy, Doc Wiley, and Sheriff Powell pored over the pictures. They found two more of the little numbers. Each of the victims had them in almost the same place from the photos.

 

"That's a particular clue." Powell held the numbers photos so that the numbers were side by side on the overlapping pictures. "It limits the victims at least to people with these tattoos."

 

"Maybe." Duster Boy put the rest of the pictures away in their folders. "If we knew when they got them, and where, it might give us a why. The killer might have done it to mark them to whatever animal he is using as a weapon."

 

"How would he do that?" Doc Wiley frowned.

 

"If it had some kind of scent on it, that might have lured the animal to where it could kill the target." Duster Boy sat back in the sheriff's office chair. He stared up at the ceiling. "It would have to fade away, or be below what a human could smell after the attack. A common smell would be more memorable than a tiny squiggle on the skin."

 

"The blood from the attack might wash the smell off." Powell put the pictures down. "Once a body is opened, the smell would cover anything else."

 

"Not to mention the body has to be washed so we can figure out what killed the poor souls." Doc Wiley rubbed her wrinkled face. "We're not just looking for a wild animal, we're looking for a serial killer that uses a wild animal to attack."

 

"Flooding his target area with bodies will just give him his choice of panther chow." Powell looked at the map of the Benquickie. "We need to know how the dead were marked. Once we know that, some of the puzzle will be clearer."

 

"We need to make some calls and see if there have been other killings like that." Duster Boy pulled out his notebook. "That might tell us something. The victims are only connected by camping in the forest, and they lived here all their lives."

 

"I wouldn't go that far." Powell tapped his desk. "They are also from out of the Hollow."

 

"All of them?" Duster Boy added that to the list of things they knew. That could be the reason they were selected.

 

"Now that I think of it, yes." Powell pulled the files over. "Matter of fact, they all bought property here less than a year ago. The addresses are close to the park's border."

 

"Could that be the common link?" Duster Boy stood. "Where are these addresses?"

 

Powell walked over to a map of Star Hollow. He indicated three of the houses. They were spread out, but each house sat close to the edge of the Benquickie trees.

 

"That's our common link right there." Doc Wiley joined the two of them. "They moved in, and someone decided to kill them."

 

"It doesn't explain why." Duster Boy wrote the addresses down. "It does limit the targets if he decides to kill again."

 

"What do you mean if?" Powell grimaced.

 

"Guys like this kill like clockwork until they start losing control." Duster Boy put his notebook away. "If no one fits the bill, sometimes they stop for a while."

 

"If he goes underground, we might never catch him." Powell tapped the map. "We can't have this hanging over the town."

 

"Let's go out and look around." Doc Wiley's wrinkles buried her eyes. "Maybe he left some kind of clue at the houses."

 

"I've got nothing better to do." Duster Boy straightened his hat.

 

"No one can know about this." Powell grabbed his own hat. "It's bad enough that people think there's a maneater. If word gets out a human is behind it, we'll have a riot."

 

"Mum's the word." Duster Boy nodded, slumping in his coat.

 

"No doubt." Doc Wiley nodded. "We don't need a thousand Rogers out there causing problems while we look around."

 

The trio walked out to the sheriff's patrol car. They piled in and headed down the streets as calmly as Powell could manage. He didn't want to attract attention as he drove along. Everyone would start talking about things if he did.

 

Powell pulled up in the driveway of the first victim. The sheriff and doctor had told Duster Boy about the wife and three kids left behind. They wanted to look around without letting her know she could be the next victim.

 

If they needed to use them as bait, Powell wanted to look for the murderer before that happened. He didn't like the thought of using kids as goats for a monster.

 

Duster Boy agreed. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt by the monster.

 

"You and Doc take the back and look around the house." Powell hitched up his gunbelt. "I'll talk to the widow."

 

"We're looking for where he got the tattoo." Duster Boy headed toward a fence around the back yard. "Maybe she can tell us where the husband had gone that day."

 

"I think I can handle that." Powell headed for the front door.

 

Wiley hurried after the man in the coat. She paused when he avoided the gate and kept walking around the fence.

 

"Where are you going?" The doctor caught up as he paused at the corner of the fence.

 

"I don't think the brain invaded the yard." Duster Boy started along the fence. "This fence is high enough to block anyone trying to see into the lot. You'd have to climb a tree to see over it."

 

"There's plenty of those around." Wiley looked at the stands of trees pushing up on the fence.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Oooh - the plot thickens. BTW, csyphrett, what exactly is the foundation?

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

The Diana Foundation hunt monsters and other assorted bad guys. I have used them for plot points in other stories set in this section of the multiverse.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

5

 

Duster Boy climbed into the trees. He checked the angles as he moved around among the branches. He found five holes drilled in the bark of one tree that seemed familiar. He put his fingers over the holes.

 

He doubted a panther did that.

 

That confirmed one thought of his. Someone watched the victim from a tree and waited until he was alone before attacking. It also meant he was not dealing with a big cat like they had thought after looking over the pictures of the corpses.

 

So what were they dealing with if not a panther?

 

Duster Boy descended to the ground. He marked the tree with his knife before joining Doc Wiley at the edge of the lot.

 

"This is where he watched from." Duster Boy pointed up to the branches he had found the five holes in the trunk.

 

"So if we find two other places with holes like that, it's a solid piece of evidence." Doc Wiley rubbed her face. "What does it mean?"

 

"It means nothing unless there's a trail we can follow back to the watcher." Duster Boy pulled his hat down. "Maybe if we can search around the next likely victim's house and find the same thing, we might be able to set up a trap."

 

"That's useful." Doc Wiley nodded. "Unless he sees us looking over the trees and figures out what we're doing."

 

"You got it in one, Doc." Duster Boy smiled as he headed to the police car. "Hopefully this will be passed off as a normal reinvestigation of a horrible accident."

 

"So we have to move on to the next house." Doc joined him by the car as they waited for the sheriff to come out of the house after his talk with the victim's widow. "Why didn't he kill the wife too?"

 

"I don't know." Duster Boy settled in the back seat. "Maybe he couldn't because of some rule we don't know about. That happens sometimes."

 

"A rule?" Doc Wiley claimed the shotgun seat.

 

"Some things require some kind of ritual which follows a set of rules." Duster Boy watched the road and mirrors. "Break a rule and something bad happens to you."

 

"And killing anybody but the one person he did kill would break one of those rules." Doc Wiley nodded. "Why disguise it as an animal attack?"

 

"I don't know." Duster Boy pulled out his notebook. "Maybe the animal disguise is part of the rules and he can't do anything else."

 

Duster Boy made some notes on what they found to help the investigators who would be coming on the scene after he was gone.

 

"What's the point of this murder?" Doc Wiley turned in her seat to look at the stranger. "What's the end goal of all this?"

 

"I don't know." Duster Boy put his notebook and pen away. "It could be anything. The question is how many does he have to kill to reach that goal? If three is all he needs, he's done until he needs to do the same thing again."

 

"What do you think we can do to catch this guy?" Doc Wiley turned as the sheriff came out of the house and put his hat on his thin hair as he talked to the lady of the house.

 

Duster Boy and Doc Wiley waited for him to get behind the wheel. He pulled on his seatbelt as he marshaled his thoughts on the conversation he had with the widow.

 

"The victim didn't have a tattoo, didn't have any enemies, had bought the house because it was close to the Benquickie because of his job as a nature photographer." Sheriff Powell started the car. "So it looks like he was attacked by someone who followed him home from the forest."

 

"Whoever it was watched from one of the trees next to the fence." Duster Boy settled with his hands in his coat's pockets. "I found a hand mark on that one tree."

 

"So the killer could use that to get over the fence without leaving a mark." Powell nodded as he drove to the next house. "That makes sense."

 

"Duster Boy thinks if we find similar marks at the other houses, we might have something we can use to find which house he will be looking at next." Doc Wiley talked with her hands as they rolled along.

 

"Sounds reasonable to me." Powell took three turns, and then started checking mailboxes as they rolled along. "All this is new. I wonder if that's what triggered everything."

 

"It could have made the victim pool that much easier to pick from when it needed to be done." Duster Boy watched the cookie cutter houses roll by his window.

 

"Let's kill all the new people in town that move in next to the forest could be one of the rules you were talking about." Doc Wiley glared at the pale bricks that made up the new homesteads.

 

"And that limits the victim pool also." Duster Boy nodded. "His choice of victim could have been mandated by what he was doing, but it could be a coincidence since presumably he knew everyone else in town. Maybe a total stranger made a better choice for him. We won't know until we catch him and find out who he is."

 

"Let's look at the other two houses." Powell slowed at the next house on their list. "Then we'll have to find some way to check for the tree holes so we know which person he is going to rip apart next."

 

"We certainly can't claim it's woodpecker holes." Duster Boy spread his hand out to show them the regularity of the drilling. "Maybe we can claim some kind of bird that no one has ever heard of before."

 

"The hunters around here would know something was up from the word go." Powell got out of the car. "They know their animals for the most part."

 

"There has to be some way we can find his next vantage point before he strikes again." Doc Wiley got out of the car.

 

"Finding it is no problem." Duster Boy got out of the car too. "We just have to find it without letting him know we're looking for it."

 

"Sounds easy." Doc Wiley's wrinkles twisted into new lines.

 

"It will be as long as he isn't watching the post for people like us looking for them." Duster Boy pushed his hat back. "If he sees us, he might change his next target."

 

"There wasn't any survivors here." Powell fished out his key ring. "Let's see if we can spot these holes from the back windows."

 

"Who gets the house?" Duster Boy followed the other two inside, hands in his pockets.

 

"Some cousin back east." Powell led the way to the back of the house.

 

Duster Boy went to the closest window on the ground floor. He pulled out his telescope and put it to his eye. It took him some moments. He saw a cluster that could be a grip from inhuman fingers.

 

"There's the holes." Duster Boy was careful not to point. "This might be just what we need to close this down."

 

"Let's check house number three." Powell nodded. "Then we can start checking houses with people in them."

[TheQuestionMan]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Nicely written and thought out.

 

More please

 

QM

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Thanks, QM. I need to sit down and write the rest of this out in one shot.

CES

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

6

 

The trio's afternoon of questioning yielded two possible targets that were at home. A quick inspection didn't reveal any of the signs of a strange handgrip in the surrounding trees. One didn't have a fence around the back yard, so such a high vantage point probably wasn't necessary.

 

The other had a privacy fence with a dog that roamed the closed in property with vicious barking at any perceived threat. The dog refused to stop the whole time Powell talked to the owner about how long he had been on the scene, and his personal security.

 

Duster Boy inspected the property as best he could from the edge of the fence. The dog tried to jump over the wooden planks to bite him. He tried to put the distraction out of mind despite the slobber flying at him.

 

He took a few steps away so his coat could dry out.

 

Normal animals either flew from or fought supernatural menaces. He expected the guard dog would fight to the death anything invading his turf.

 

Would that matter to the killer? Would he be scared of the dog? Would he see it as collateral damage?

 

Duster Boy walked the fence, keeping his eyes peeled for any clue.

 

He admitted that he would pick the first house they looked at since it had nothing to protect the house from the trees. It would be easier to kill the owner. And escape would be easy to do and that was a prime consideration.

 

Duster Boy paused when he reached the center of the boundary line in the back. He thought he saw something up in the trees. He tried not look at it as he moved to get a better look. He didn't want the killer to switch targets because he had been found out.

 

Switching is something he would do, and he expected the killer would do the same in the same position.

 

Duster Boy risked a glance up when he was a few yards pass where he had seen the whatever it was in the trees. He saw a tuft of fur stuck in the limbs.

 

This might be the place after all. That was good.

 

Duster Boy headed for the corner at his slow pace. This might be what they need. The problem was, he didn't know if the fur was a possible marker, or the killer had come and dismissed the house.

 

Did the dog matter to him? If it did, then he might move on. If it didn't, then this house was just as easy to get into as the other they had looked at already.

 

Duster Boy smiled. This could be just what they needed. They just needed to get the owner out, and put bait in.

 

Duster Boy headed for the front of the house. He kept his eyes front. He didn't want to give away the fact of his discovery. Maybe they could work a switch if they were lucky.

 

Duster Boy paused when he stepped on the front porch. He casually looked around. At least the dog had stopped barking as soon as he was out of sight.

 

The neighborhood looked quiet and empty. It looked perfect for a murder.

 

Maybe he could prevent that as long as the leylines remained quiet.

 

A house should be protection for a time.

 

Duster Boy knocked on the door. Doc Wiley let him in. She looked angry. Apparently the talk wasn't going too well.

 

"How's it going?" Duster Boy kept his voice down.

 

"He thinks we're crazy." Doc Wiley glared in the living room. "His dog is enough to protect him."

 

"I saw a piece of gray fur in one of the trees." Duster Boy peered through the glass in the doorframe to view the street. "I think this is the one."

 

"Let's talk to Bob." Doc Wiley led the way deeper into the house. "Maybe he can persuade the man."

 

The house was a wide central room with a small bar to cut off the kitchen from the rest of the area. Steps in the center went upstairs. Glass door and windows showed the unhappy dog outside. Sheriff Powell and the owner sat across from each other in arm chairs. A wide flatscreen television covered one wall. A market analyst had been muted so they could talk.

 

"This is Mark Lester." Sheriff Powell gave the man Duster Boy's name in the way of introduction. "I have been asking him if he has seen anything suspicious."

 

Duster Boy went to block Lester's face from outside observation, smiling as he looked around.

 

"I think the man we're looking for is watching the house." Duster Boy let his coat hang loose to hide the inside as much as possible from the outside. "He might be ready to make his move as soon as it gets dark."

 

"You have to be joking." Lester laughed. "There's no reason for anyone to kill me, and Bruno is all the protection I need."

 

"I don't think so." Duster Boy shook his head. "If this man comes for you, I am sure that he will kill you and the dog. He wants something that only killing can give him. It has nothing to do with what you do for a living, or your social status."

 

"You have to be kidding." Lester looked at the sheriff. "Who is this man?"

 

"He's an expert." Powell shuffled his hat. "You don't have to believe us. We just want you to know that we're looking into the fact that you might be a target. We want you to consider protective custody until we catch this guy."

 

"I have too much to do." Lester stood. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

 

"I'm going to have to put you under arrest." Sheriff Powell also stood. "Turn around and put your hands behind your head."

 

"You can't do that." Lester growled at the three of them.

 

"Let's step away from the windows for a moment." Duster Boy pointed toward the kitchen.

 

"I got it." Powell smiled.

 

Several minutes later, Lester walked out in the custody of the Sheriff in Duster Boy's coat and hat. They put him in the back of the car and drove off.

 

Duster Boy changed the television channel as he waited, pistol tucked in his waistband.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

And so we edge closer to finding the killer using decpetion and guile to throw him off. But I wouldn't keep my revolver in my waistband. Too much chance of shooting myself in the delicates if I needed to draw it in a hurry.

 

(I know, I know. . . I should have brought a second holster )

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

7

 

 

 

The dog not barking told Duster Boy he was about to have trouble. The animal had walked around the back yard, patrolling the fence for a few hours. A few moments here and there was set aside to chew a large bone. About an hour after sundown, the dog fell asleep against the fence.

 

Duster Boy moved to the kitchen, keeping an eye on the dark hump by the fence.

 

He took out the pistol and placed it on the counter. He expected trouble at any second. The dog not posing a threat had not been unexpected.

 

Duster Boy picked up the portable from its base next to the refrigerator and dialed the Sheriff's Office. Powell should at least know something was going on so he wouldn't be surprised to find the wanderer's corpse in the morning.

 

"Sheriff's office." Doc Wiley's voice lost some of its caustic flavor on the phone.

 

"Where's Powell?" Duster Boy picked up his pistol as he watched the windows. He still had silver and iron loaded in the cylinder. Hopefully he was facing something the metals could hurt.

 

"He and Melvin should be down the road from the Lester house." Doc Wiley sounded like she wanted to be in on the stakeout too. "I'm stuck minding the office in case something somewhere else happens."

 

"Tell him something is going on." Duster Boy didn't like the way the dog didn't move. "He should be really careful until we see the killer."

 

"You're the one that should be careful." Doc Wiley snorted like a horse. "You're the one on the bull's eye."

 

Duster Boy hung up. He didn't need a warning. He had run into plenty of things that had tried to kill him over the years. He had prevailed with some good reflexes, a little skill and knowledge, and a whole lot of luck.

 

Hopefully, this situation would resolve in his favor the same as the others.

 

Two tiny dots appeared next to the fence. They blinked in the night air. Duster Boy figured they were eyes examining the dog to make sure it was asleep. The wanderer snapped the lights in the kitchen off as he used the counter as cover.

 

Maybe it could see in the dark. Why make it easy if it couldn't?

 

The tiny dots closed on the glass back of the bottom floor. They paused just out of reach of the light from the living room. Duster Boy frowned.

 

What did his enemy look like?

 

A hand of flame lit up in an instant outside the door. Duster Boy nodded. He had seen something like that before. It was a hand of glory.

 

The blue flame didn't reveal the user of the hand.

 

The back door opened on its own. Duster Boy knew that was the hand of glory throwing open the locks for its wielder. That explained why there wasn't any forced entry at the other houses.

 

The dark silhouette crossed the threshold, placing the hand on the floor by the door. Duster Boy frowned at the furry thing looking around. Long teeth glittered in the lamp light as sunken eyes scanned the room.

 

It was too calm to be a werewolf.

 

Duster Boy slowly pulled the hammer of his pistol back. It was better to use surprise than let his intruding enemy pull something else out of its bag of tricks.

 

Duster Boy wasn't quiet enough. The hunchback immediately turned a canine face in his direction and leaped for the armchair in one long bound. He fired through the furniture in hopes of hitting it.

 

Duster Boy shifted to his right, looking for the fur wearer. He doubted he had hit with the first shot. The killer had been moving too fast.

 

The front door crashed down. Sheriff Powell leveled a shotgun and fired. He hoped the shot would cover the room with one pull of the trigger.

 

The intruder flew across the room. He crashed against the windows, and flew through the heavy glass into the back yard. Being shot seemed not to have hurt him that much at all the way he covered ground.

 

"He's bulletproof." Powell worked another shell in the chamber.

 

"I hope not." Duster Boy took aim as he ran up to the windows. He fired twice as fast as he could.

 

The figure jerked from a hit. Then it leaped over the fence. Duster Boy dumped out his three empties and reloaded. He didn't know if the iron, or silver, had hurt the killer. Either way, they had a small trail to follow if they hurried.

 

He expected a certain amount of regeneration from what he had seen.

 

"I hate to follow him in the dark, but if we don't, we'll lose the trail." Duster Boy grabbed the doused hand of glory. He stepped out into the back, running for the fence.

 

"Lester is going to lose his mind." Powell cut on the flashlight hooked to the shotgun's barrel. "At least we were right about somebody wanting to do some bad things to him."

 

"Doesn't do us any good if we can't stop him." Duster Boy lit the hand of glory with a lighter. Flecks of brown glowed under the candle's influence.

 

"How are you doing that?" Powell held the grisly thing as Duster Boy scrambled to the top of the fence. Duster Boy took the hand back before dropping down to the other side. Powell climbed the fence next, dropping down after handing his shotgun to the other man.

 

He took the weapon back when he was on solid ground again.

 

"The hand of glory is made from the hand of a dead thief." Duster Boy started after the trail. "That must be why the blood is glowing where it's shining."

 

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll bleed to death before we catch up with him." Powell swept his shotgun around in front of them. "We're never going to sneak up on him like this."

 

"We hurt him for what that's worth." Duster Boy wished he knew which of his special loads had wounded the man. "Where's your deputy?"

 

"He's guarding the front of the house." Powell loaded the empty slot in the magazine for the shotgun. "I didn't want him to get in the way."

 

"I can't argue with that." Duster Boy headed into the trees, swinging the candle around in front of him. "Just keep an eye out."

 

"You don't have to tell me twice." Powell racked the shotgun to ready it to shoot.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

"If it bleeds, we can kill it,"

 

Good. About time we took the offensive.

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

8

 

 

Duster Boy swept the grotesque candelabra around. The wicks had burned through the flesh of the hand of glory, leaving bone exposed to the night air. The drops of blood had stopped.

 

He put the flames out. Losing the blood trail had been expected. The killing seemed to be about rejuvenation. Regeneration would be part of that package.

 

That left them standing in the dark with no clue where to go from where they were.

 

"We're in the Benquickie." Sheriff Powell swept his flashlight around. "There's no telling where he went from here."

 

"Swing the light back and forth in front of us." Duster Boy settled for tucking the hand of glory under his arm. "We need some more light, but maybe we'll get lucky."

 

Powell carefully pushed the ray beam in an arc in front of them. Then he turned to his left, and followed through until he had completed a full circle. Duster Boy turned with him. They both looked up. A claw mark jumped out in stark relief.

 

"He waited until he healed up and took to the trees where he knew we couldn't keep up with him." Duster Boy shook his head. It wasn't a dumb monster.

 

"It also keeps us from trailing him unless we get lucky." Powell searched the nearby trees for more marks. "I doubt he's going to leave that many footprints up there."

 

"We made him miss his deadline unless he grabs someone else tonight." Duster Boy shoved his gun in his belt. "We have to get back and hope he doesn't have another victim marked out."

 

"Melvin is the closest victim to us." Powell turned back to head out of the forest.

 

"Not necessarily." Duster Boy followed at a slower pace. He cursed himself for not thinking of getting a flashlight for himself. "There's that woman we talked to earlier. Where's her house from here?"

 

Powell took a moment to look up at the night sky, look back down the trail where distant spots would have marked Lester's house if trees weren't in the way. He turned about forty degrees to his right.

 

"I'd say at least a couple of miles that way." Powell pointed with the shotgun.

 

"Call Melvin and get him to pick her up." Duster Boy hoped that was enough to stall things until they could think of a better plan.

 

"Hopefully he can do that without getting killed." Powell pulled his radio from his utility belt and spoke into it with clear directions. The last words he spoke were a clear order not to hang around and wait for something to show up to kill him.

 

Duster Boy understood the sentiment. He doubted there was much regular crime in Star Hollow. Something like a life sucking monster would be way out of the Sheriff's Office's league. He found that he was surprised that Powell had burst into the house to help him.

 

The unexpected attack had forced the killer to run instead of trying to stand toe to toe and concentrating on killing Duster Boy.

 

It might have saved the traveler's life.

 

The sheriff led the way through the trees. He kept the beam down so that he didn't shine it way out in front of them as a warning. The killer had enough of an advantage as it was.

 

Duster Boy followed, hand out for any tree that might try to take him out in the dark. It wasn't the first time he was blind in a hostile environment.

 

"I see street lights." Powell paused. A ditch opened in front of them as he tried to pick a way through the mess in front of them. "We're close to the road."

 

"I don't see Melvin's roof lights." Duster Boy hoped that meant he had gotten the woman out free and clear before the killer had reached the house.

 

"Neither do I." Powell reached for his radio and pressed the button. He spoke some tense words into it and listened. "No answer. That isn't like Melvin at all."

 

"Let's go." Duster Boy jumped the ditch and used the hand of glory on a bramble bush in the way. "We have to try to catch up to him before someone else is killed."

 

"Melvin better have a good excuse." Powell followed, pushing the same brambles out of his way with the shotgun barrel. "The wolf man can just stop now that he knows we're on to him."

 

"He'll just change targets." Duster Boy felt along in the dim light. "He doesn't have to be cautious now that he has been exposed. He can take anybody he comes across."

 

"So the only hope we got is trying to track him down to his lair and stopping him before he gets done doing whatever he is doing." Powell grimaced. "That doesn't look good for our side."

 

"At least it isn't a panther." Duster Boy wished it was a panther. Panthers hunted the same ground where they found easy prey. Serial killers tended to come off the rails if anyone got in their way.

 

And serial killing monsters were worse than that.

 

Powell and Duster Boy reached a clear space where someone had hacked out a yard from the surrounding trees. They fell silent. There was no point in advertising their presence if they didn't have to.

 

The killer would know they were there soon enough.

 

Powell pointed to the third house down from where they were standing. Duster Boy nodded, pulling his pistol. If they could catch the wolf man now, they could end this before anyone else got hurt. Melvin not answering the radio had to remain a separate problem.

 

Hopefully he had just gotten lost trying to find the place from the other house. Duster Boy didn't want to think the deputy had gotten killed trying to do his duty. Monster hunting was not for everyone.

 

The two separated at the base of the deck that led up to the patio doors at the back of the house. Lights were on. Nothing moved. Duster Boy thought he heard a radio playing some symphony.

 

Powell stepped to one side of the opened doors. He shook his head at the broken glass. No hand of glory meant no subtlety at opening the door. A fist through the glass would have to do.

 

Duster Boy pulled back the curtain with his free hand after putting the hand of glory down. His other hand pointed the pistol at an empty living room. Interior walls broke the space up into separate areas but everywhere he looked was empty.

 

They were too late.

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

9

 

Duster Boy, Sheriff Powell, and Melvin stood in the backyard of the latest victim. They held a map of the area up under flashlights as they discussed what they should do next.

 

Duster Boy and Powell talked. Melvin remained silent after the berating he had taken for getting lost trying to drive from the Lester house to where they stood.

 

"This is Lester's house." The sheriff used a pen to write in a dot. "This is where we are now."

 

"This is the line that he took from Lester's house after we surprised him." The traveler marked in a red beam with his own pen. "He turned about here."

 

The spot where the killer changed course formed a pointer into the forest that surrounded Star Hollow.

 

"Was he leading us on, or did he head home after the shooting?" Duster Boy pushed back his hat. "Where would he take the woman?"

 

"What about those other killings?" Melvin bit a lip. He wasn't supposed to talk.

 

"What did I tell you?" Powell glared at his moonfaced deputy.

 

"He's right." The traveler smiled. "Where were those other addresses on the map?"

 

The two lawmen consulted their notebooks, marking in spots on the map as quick as they were sure of the location. Their consultant extended the line from Lester's house. Red ink marked more courses in the same direction.

 

"It looks like a spider web." The deputy smiled as he put his notebook away.

 

"What does it get us?" Powell restrained himself from slapping the back of his sidekick's head. "We don't know if he stayed on course."

 

"We don't have a lot to go on." Duster Boy looked at the set of lines. "And we don't have a lot of time if we want to save Mrs. Cromartie. This is where you guys are going to have to brainstorm some ideas."

 

"All right." The sheriff closed his eyes. He seemed to be casting through all the information they had and assembling it in his mind. "He's a killer. He's imitating a natural predator. He checked out houses close to the forest. They were new houses. The victims were all strangers to each other and the town. Camping seems to be a given since he headed right for the Benquickie."

 

"There's a couple of old abandoned places on this line from the Lester house." Melvin shone his light along the red drawing. "I remember the Graves place used to be out along here somewhere."

 

"Where at, Melvin?" Duster Boy handed his pen over to the slow moving giant.

 

Three small spots fell in a triangle inside the upper point defined by the meeting of the lines.

 

"That's right." Powell nodded. "I told you the old sheriff went up there and neither one has been seen since. We thought Graves killed him and took it on the run."

 

"Maybe that's how this all started." The stranger smiled. "We need to go check the place out at the very least."

 

"That's not much of a next move." The sheriff folded the map up. "On the other hand, we got nothing else we can do. We certainly aren't going to track anyone in the dark."

 

"Let's go then." Duster Boy tucked his pen away. "Hopefully whatever he is doing needs a lot of time."

 

The three men headed for the county car in front of the house. Melvin got in back and started loading the shotguns without speaking. The pictures of destruction left behind by what they were chasing made him want something with a lot more firepower. Duster Boy checked his own ammunition for his revolver in the passenger seat as Powell drove down the road marked with Benquickie National Park signs.

 

"Too bad we can't do this in the daytime." Powell pulled his own revolver out. He checked the cylinder with a flip of the wrist.

 

"Let me see that." The cowboy dumped out the normal shells and put them in his coat pocket. He put the same mix as he had in his own pistol in the cylinder and spun it. "That's the best I can do right now."

 

The sheriff holstered the weapon as he drove.

 

"What if we're wrong?" Melvin assembled spare slugs for the shotguns and tucked them in holders along the grips.

 

"We don't have a lot of options." The stranger reached one hand over the seat. "You got a revolver, right?"

 

The deputy handed over his six shooter. It looked tiny in his big hand. He watched as a third load of silver and iron went into the well before the piece of steel and wood was handed back.

 

"Either she is out at one of those abandoned homes you guys mentioned, or she's not." Duster Boy settled into his coat as he watched the road. "If she is, we have a chance. If she's not, we'll have to wait for him to pick his next victim."

 

"So we're shooting the moon." Melvin started checking the equipment bag with the sheriff's department logo on the sides.

 

"We sure are." Powell kept the hammer down as the car started to bounce on gravel because the park had decided not to asphalt everything. His eyes searched for landmarks obscured by the dark and a cloud of dust around the vehicle.

 

Melvin settled against the back seat after strapping on a bulletproof vest. He didn't know how well it would stand up to angry claws, but he wasn't getting out of the car without some kind of protection.

 

He didn't consider himself expendable.

 

The sheriff cut the lights as he took his foot off the gas. He let the car coast to a stop. He slapped his vest, then got out of the car. He let Melvin out. Shotguns and night glasses were shared out. Their visitor got out the other side. His pistol gleamed in his hand.

 

Powell led the way, shotgun held ready. The glasses covered his face like giant bug eyes. The other two men followed as quietly as they could.

 

The fact that the car might have alerted their quarry was not stated. All three knew that the killer could be waiting for them in the dark with his better vision and hearing. They had to act as if Mrs. Cromartie was still alive. Anything else meant just handing her over to be slaughtered.

 

And they had come to an unspoken agreement they weren't going to do that.

 

The three worked their way through the trees.

[DusterBoy]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Good work, csyphrett

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

10

 

A ramshackle cabin stood amongst pine trees. Light seeped through cracks in the boards, spilling out on the dead ground. Smoke drifted from the crooked chimney.

 

An old rust heap that used to be a Ford sat with most of its parts gone, or rusted thin, to one side of the cabin. Blocks held it off the ground.

 

Sheriff Powell waved his deputy toward the truck. The big man should have plenty of cover behind the wreck if things went wrong.

 

Duster Boy went the other way, wincing at the tingle he felt in his legs. He had crossed some line. The killer knew they were there.

 

Duster Boy ran for the door on the rickety porch. There was no point in stealth now. That would only get the woman killed that much faster. Speed would carry them through.

 

Powell ran forward to the cowboy's left. He leveled the shotgun at the door. The killer had taken one blast without too much trouble. Hopefully the door wouldn't stand up the same way.

 

Powell fired into the wood. He aimed high so the shot would punch through the door at an upwards angle. As long as Mrs. Cromartie wasn't standing in front of the door, she should be okay. The planks that made up the door snapped from the hammer blow.

 

Duster Boy went for the latch. He planned to throw the door open and rush the room. He didn't know which of his bullet types worked, so he planned to empty the revolver at the wolf man.

 

A long hand covered in coarse hair dragged the wanderer into the cabin. He smashed through the remnants of the door with no problem. The barrier had never been strong enough to stop a house cat. A human body was too much for it.

 

Duster Boy smashed against a wall. His revolver flew across the room. The impact had caused him to fling it away. He dropped to the floor with a loud bang.

 

Powell fired his shotgun again. He aimed a little lower this time. He was pretty sure Duster Boy was out of the way, but putting down the killer was priority number one. The blast pushed the killer back as the pellets flattened against his hairy chest.

 

Powell had three more shots. He racked the weapon and fired until he was empty. The triple blast lifted his enemy up and put him against the fireplace. The sheriff tossed the rifle aside and pulled his pistol. He didn't have time to load the extra ammunition in his pockets into the long gun.

 

The spray of lead from the shotgun had done nothing to the wolfman other than tossing him around.

 

Powell brought the pistol up on target. He didn't ask for a surrender like he was supposed to according to the law. He thumbed the hammer back and started shooting as fast as he could go.

 

The killer came at him, ignoring the three wounds that appeared in the center of his mass. He could afford to ignore it if he could reach the sheriff. He healed fast. That talent would carry him while he was ripping the man's face off.

 

Both men went down. Powell kept the snapping jaws away from his neck with his forearm. Claws ripped at his shirt and bulletproof vest. Sooner or later, they would hit flesh. Blood would flow.

 

Duster Boy pulled himself to his feet as the two men wrestled on the wooden floor. Mrs. Cromartie was more important. She had to be gotten out of the way before he could turn his attention on the wolf man.

 

He didn't see the woman anywhere. Where could she be? He couldn't kill the wolf man until he knew if she was safe, or dead. The cowboy shook his head. He hoped he wasn't making a mistake.

 

Duster Boy found his pistol. He ran over and grabbed it as Powell was hoisted into the air and thrown through the main window of the cabin. The barrel pointed as an extension of his hand as he pulled the trigger.

 

The six bullets ripped through the wolf man's knees. Duster Boy counted the impacts and knew the iron bullets had done what he wanted. And the killer writhing on the ground meant he couldn't kill the traveler until he healed his legs.

 

Duster Boy grabbed Powell's handcuffs from his belt. The sheriff wouldn't be needing them. One bracelet went around a wrist. The other went around an ankle. That should buy enough time for the cowboy to look around whether the killer broke the cuffs, or not.

 

Duster Boy loaded iron bullets into his pistol after dumping out the empties. A weakness like that was made to be exploited.

 

He waved Melvin in so the deputy could take care of his boss while he searched the cabin. It took a few minutes to find the trap door to the cellar under the house. A smile crossed his face when he saw Mrs. Cromartie chained to the wall. She was crying, but she was alive.

 

That was all that mattered.

 

"We're here to take you home." Duster Boy picked the lock on the chain. "You're safe now."

[csyphrett]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

epilogue

 

 

Sheriff Bob Powell sat at his desk, feet up, coffee in hand. His cell block held his killer until someone from the county seat arrived to pick him up. Melvin had their evidence in boxes on his desk across the room. The big deputy hadn't come in yet.

 

He was probably still asleep after the long night they had gone through trying to find Mrs. Cromartie.

 

Doc Wiley had taken the woman in hand, prescribing sleep and some food. Her interview was on a tape in one of the evidence boxes. The sheriff would talk with her later if he needed to do that. He was content to try to let her get back to her routine if she could.

 

There was only one fly in the ointment.

 

Duster Boy had vanished on the way back to town. He had paused by a small stream, looking out in the trees. He turned to look at Powell and Melvin escorting their killer along the road. The sheriff could only describe what he saw as a wave washing away a sand castle at the beach taking the wanderer with it.

 

Powell knew something might happen, but he hadn't expected that.

 

Eventually he would tell the town what had happened. That would stop the wild animal hatred for a while. He planned to hold off until his prisoner was out of town and under someone else's guard.

 

The office door opened. A couple of men stepped in. They had the look of soldiers dressing in civilian clothes. One had a scar on his chin from something sharp. They looked the office over as they walked to the rail.

 

"How can I help you boys?" Powell lowered his feet. He might need to pull his gun the way they looked at him.

 

"My name is Lucas Barnes." The man with the scar smiled. "This is Fred Giles. We're from the Diana Foundation."

 

"I'm sorry. I forgot to call you in the excitement." Powell stood. "We had a man impersonating a panther. We got him locked up last night. The evidence is to go with him to the county seat."

 

"You caught him?" Barnes looked at his partner. "What happened?"

 

"We tracked him down to the cabin of a man he had killed years ago and taken his identity. My deputy and I arrested him in the middle of the night." Powell smiled. "We're having his place excavated in a couple of days to make sure we didn't miss anything."

 

"You've already identified him?" Giles kept his hands in his pockets. The sheriff saw that in people who couldn't help touching stuff.

 

"The killer was a former sheriff named Hanley. We figured he killed the owner of the place he was using named Graves, changed clothes, hid out in the Benquickie." The sheriff shrugged. "Neither had prints on file, and the method of murder made identifying the corpse impossible through dental records. The body was misidentified at the time and Hanley has been terrorizing the forest ever since."

 

"What about our associate?" Barnes examined the visitor's chair. He couldn't quite bring himself to sit in it.

 

"He's gone." Powell smiled. "He got back on the road heading south while we were investigating."

 

"Did he leave an address?" Barnes pulled out his phone. "We have something for him."

 

"Nope." The sheriff shook his head. "Duster Boy said he couldn't stay in one place too long."

 

"We really need to track him down." Barnes dialed his office. "He's had an ailment for a lot of years. One of our researchers thinks we can get it under control if we had time to examine him."

 

"By now, he's probably hitched halfway across the state." Powell looked at his watch. "I'll buy you two some lunch for your trouble after Melvin comes in to mind the office. That's the least I can do."

 

"Thanks, Sheriff." Barnes spoke some words into the phone before hanging up. They sounded random to Bob. He figured the code was be on the look out for the cowboy.

 

"What's your foundation do, guys?" The lawman glanced at his cell block door. He didn't want to lose his murderer because he forgot to keep watch.

 

"We investigate mysteries and file reports." Giles stared at a bobblehead on Melvin's desk. He wanted to pick it up. That was easy to spot. Instead he kept his hands in his pockets. "Our reports are given to researchers to work on."

 

"I'm sure you've come across something like this before. The murderer impersonates dead man and panther to continue his crimes undiscovered." Powell reached for his hat. "Here's Melvin."

 

Giles went to the door and waited for the deputy to come in. Barnes put his phone away. They stepped back from the looming giant.

 

"We're going over to the diner to get some lunch, Melvin." The hat went on the sheriff's head. "Call me if the detail arrives to take Hanley away. I'll have to sign for him."

 

"Yes, sir." Melvin got his cup off the rack and poured some coffee into it. He sat at his desk and closed his eyes. He really wanted some more winks. Carrying Hanley through the forest to the car for the ride back to town had been some work.

 

The deputy sipped his coffee in contentment. At least things were going back to normal now.

 

Powell led the way the couple of blocks to the diner. He grabbed his customary table and settled with his back to the wall. The Foundation investigators sat down across from him.

 

"Load up." Powell waved to the waitress. "It's on the county."

 

"Thanks." Barnes smiled. "We need to ask some questions and fill out our paperwork. A report will have to go in to justify driving down."

 

"Ask away." Powell smiled. "Most everything has been written down for the prosecutor."

 

"Has Hanley said what drove him to his crimes?" Barnes pulled out a notebook to write in. "Will he try for an insanity defense?"

 

"That will be up to his lawyer." Powell made a three with his fingers to the waitress. She nodded. "The prosecutor will look at the evidence and let me know what he can do. We're going to try and put him on Death Row."

 

"He might be insane." Barnes looked up as the waitress appeared with coffee.

 

"We're hoping that he can never prove that." The sheriff nodded as his own cup arrived.

the end

[The Suave]

Re: Monster Hunting Stranger

 

Was this a campaign?