The Outgoing: A Spinnerfall Thriller by Thomas Buhr

Author:Thomas Buhr [Buhr, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mission Point Press
Published: 2023-05-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 8

The Satanic Mechanic

Eddie called Zac three times while pacing around the room. He got voice mail each time.

“Zac, Eddie, we just broke the case wide open.” “C-2, stop whatever you are doing and call me.” “C-2, Zac, we’ve connected Parrish to a local girl, the one Marshall ran into!” he said on the calls. He grew more manic with each unanswered call.

I sat and fleshed out my notes. We recorded the interviews, but I took notes as well. It was mostly out of habit or maybe a need to do something while Eddie handled the questioning.

I had proved less than useful at the interview. My attempts at empathy had only drawn the ire of Evangeline Cooper. Eddie made the connection to her. He got the information we needed and then landed the yearbook. Coupled with Marshall’s interview it was now a real investigation. We were on to something. Snipe hunts be damned!

Eddie finally stopped pacing. “I’m gonna go tie some flies.”

“I thought the dry-fly season was over,” I said.

“Mostly,” he said, “There’s some small olives but I got about 50 of those. Nope, I need to tie some streamers for winter fishing. You need to come up and try it although you’ll need to get your own waders and winter gear.”

Before I could answer with something along the lines of “That’ll be a cold day in Hell,” Eddie’s cell rang.

“Yeah, what the fuck!” Eddie said. “No, no bullshit. Let me get us on speaker phone.”

“Hey Art,” Zac said. “Should we tranquilize Fletcher?”

“Nope, he’s got a right to be amped.”

“Tell me everything,” Zac said.

We did.

There was a long silence at the end of our description of events. I thought that we might have dropped the call. It had happened once or twice before. Eddie got fair cellphone service at Spinnerfall, but it wasn’t perfect.

“Jesus,” Zac finally said. “Have you got copies of those yearbook pages?”

“Yes, sir,” Eddie said. “We’ll mail ’em to you on the way to see Clark tomorrow.”

“When’s that set for?”

“Noon at Targets. He’s bird hunting in the morning.”

“Don’t bother with events at the barroom. Everybody knows that by heart by now and nothing came of it.”

“Copy.” Eddie paused to pack a chew. “He may know who this Denny fellow was and who he ran with.”

“Yeah,” Zac said. “I’ll get on those girls, see if there are police records, find out where Naylor is. If we can get her to talk then I think the fog of time may start to clear.”

“It already is,” Eddie said before spitting.

The ride along M-33 to Rose City was pleasant with woods packed close to the road. The birches and aspens had turned bright yellow, and hardwoods were showing splashes of orange and red. The terrain qualified as foothills going up and down and up and down.

County Road 604 was at the bottom of one hillock. About 15 miles due east Hanna Grey died at the end of a rope.

We passed a local landmark known as The Pink Store about halfway to our destination.

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