in Uncategorized, Blog, Serial Fiction 11:47 pm Sunday, November 18th, 2007

“Death On The Breeze”
A Danny Stark Mystery
by James Walling

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16

Danny scraped at a rock wall near what he hoped was the water’s edge, but only succeeded in bruising a shin and collecting moss under his fingernails as the current sucked him downstream.

He’d lost all hope of giving chase the instant he hit the water. The perceptible world was drowned out in the rush of rapids, numbness, and fear.

Danny gasped for air and craned his neck in search of a familiar sound. A blaze of white noise and echoed reverberations achieved the combined affect of total disorientation.

Somehow, he lucked onto a large boulder and lunged desperately for shore. Plunging his hands wrist-deep into sediment and sand, he wrenched himself out of the river and fell back heaving on a bed of pebbles and fir boughs.

Coughing and choking fiercely, he sat up, rubbed his numb palms together for warmth, and attuned himself to his immediate surroundings. He assumed his quarry had long since made it to the far shore and the highway beyond, but it never hurt to be cautious.

Above the din of the river, he could make out the passive music of the empty wood around him. The resident animal life had been frightened underground or into flight by the sputtering human in their midst; a light breeze rustled the trees, but no human sounds penetrated the relative stillness.

Danny was soaked to the core and stone cold. He gathered his strength and resolved to make his way upstream toward the spot where he’d tumbled into the river. He hadn’t marched ten paces when he heard the plaintive wail of police sirens off in the distance.

*      *      *

Shouted instructions greeted Danny as he emerged from the brush behind the trailer ten or fifteen minutes later.

“Hands in the air,” barked an unfamiliar voice. “Right now!”

José Poveda recognized Danny—sodden as he was—and waved off his deputy.

“That ain’t him,” Poveda yelled, sounding a little disappointed. “Lower your weapon, Sanders.”

The deputy holstered his gun.

Poveda approached Danny and guided him to a squad car. Deputy Sanders draped a wool blanket over Danny’s shoulders.

“Bill Fox is on his way to the hospital,” Poveda grumbled. “Matter of routine.”

“Is he alright?”

“Minor injuries. Your other friend is on his way back to the station with two of my deputies—and that woman.” He pronounced that woman like he was identifying a witness in court.

Danny slid into the backseat of the cruiser. Poveda slammed the door shut and climbed behind the wheel of the car.

Poveda rolled down a window and signaled to his deputy as he turned the key in the ignition.

“Post a watch with Jackson,” he instructed. “I doubt that sonofabitch is coming back…but you never know.”

“Will do, sir.”

Poveda backed the cruiser out of the driveway and motored slowly down the private road toward the highway. A thin pane of Plexiglas separated the man from Danny. Poveda opened it a few inches so they could talk.

“How’d you end up in the drink?” he asked Danny.

“Nice day for a swim.”

Poveda chuckled grimly.

“Fuckload of buckshot back there,” Poveda said, taking a different tack.

“I noticed that.”

“You did, did you? That’s good, very observant of you.”

Danny noticed for the first time that he was shivering. The blanket seemed to provide no warmth at all.

“Who is he?” Danny asked.

“Who?”

“The guy with the shotgun,” Danny snapped impatiently. “What’s his name?”

Poveda merged onto the two-lane highway behind a logging truck. He took his time answering.

“James Elmer,” he stated matter-of-factly. “AKA Jimmy. Lady on her way to the station is his mother.”

“Locals?”

“Mother is,” Poveda answered. “Son was released from Sheridan last August. You wanna tell me what you and your buddies were doing out there in the first place?”

Danny ignored the question.

“What’d he get sent up to Sheridan for?” he asked. “That’s a federal prison, right?”

“Hit his local credit union for a no-interest loan.”

“Bank robbery?”

“Uh, huh. Wasn’t too successful though, blabbed to a barroom full of buddies and one of ‘em turned him in for the reward. Been up here doing odd jobs for Tommy Thompson off and on for six months.”

And how does he know that? Danny wondered.

“Same Thompson builds shitty houses outta particle board for yuppies?” he asked.

”That’s the one.”

“How’d he hook into that?”

“Hard to say.”

An awkward silence passed between them as they barreled down the highway. Poveda swerved out of his lane to pass the logging truck and steered right back behind it as an oncoming Datsun appeared around the nearest bend. Danny pulled the blanket close and focused his attention on stilling his shivering body.

The silence lasted until Poveda pulled the cruiser into a reserved parking space behind the police station and killed the engine.

“Alright, Stark,” Poveda said, turning to face him. “Why don’t you level with me before we go inside?”

“Did you have your eye on this Elmer bastard when my friend Bean went missing?” Danny asked, his voice full of venom.

“What were you doing back there, Danny?”

“Answer the question.”

“You first.”

Danny grinned at him and threw up his hands.

“I plead the fifth,” he said, through chattering teeth.

Danny could feel Poveda’s eyes burning into him.

“Your pal Fox has quite the record.”

“You know Fox,” Danny said with a shrug. “Got a heart o’ gold and a hard-on for personal liberties.”

“And packing heat, incidentally,” Poveda interjected quickly. “You know he discharged a firearm—”

“Incidentally?” Danny laughed, interrupting him. “Didn’t you mention a fuckload of buckshot at some point?”

“You were on private property.”

“I didn’t see any signs, officer.”

Poveda grimaced.

“Cute,” he said. “But you’re in some very deep shit, Danny. You might as well give it to me straight while you have the chance.”

“What I’ve got,” Danny said, “is the right to remain silent. Now let me outta this fucking car. I’m freezing my ass off.”