Thrill of the Hunt

  Frank put Sandy on the seat beside Tom. “Now, can we go?”

  “Hold your horse,” Nicole sputtered walking to the back of the jeep.

  “I’ve been holding it for an hour with your slow driving.” Walking to the front of the jeep, he unzipped his pants.

  Nicole opened the back window of the jeep. Picking up a blanket, she opened a cooler and took two bottles of water from it. Closing the window, she walked around and opened the driver’s door. She looked at Frank who was standing outside. “What are you doing out there?”

  “Taking care of business,” Frank answered, as he zipped his pants.

  “Well get in here!”

  “Can we go now?” Frank asked, getting in the jeep.

  “Give me a minute.” Nicole covered Sandy and Tom with the blanket. “Sheriff Moratelli.” Nicole handed Tom a bottle of water. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Go,” Tom ordered weakly as he took the bottle of water. “We have to go.” He waved at her to drive.

  “You heard the man. Drive,” Frank ordered.

  Nicole put the jeep in gear and started down the road at a faster speed. “We have to get you two to a hospital.”

  “Are ya hurt?” Frank asked, looking into the backseat. “Have you been in an accident out here?”

  Tom shook his head as he tried to open the bottle of water, but his strength was gone.

  Frank took the bottle, opened it, and handed it to him. “What are ya doin’ out here?”

  Tom took a long drink then tipped the bottle up to Sandy’s lips. “Drink, honey,” he said hoarsely. “You need water.”

  Sandy coughed but didn’t drink any of the water as she leaned her head against him.

  “Wet a napkin and drip it into her mouth,” Nicole ordered, as she watched in the rearview mirror. “Frank,” she nudged him, “there’s napkins in the glove box.”

  Frank opened the glove compartment and looked inside. Retrieving a napkin, he handed it to Tom, watching as Tom wetted it and put it to Sandy’s lips, squeezing the water into her mouth. He turned to Nicole. “Will ya step on it? I don’t want her dyin’ in our car.”

  Twenty-One

  Dog handlers of German Shepherds, Blood Hounds and Belgian Malinois searched the area around Colton Hornbaker’s house and outbuildings as a plane flew over, headed toward the southwest.

  Russ looked up at the plane. “That Jerry?”

  “I think that one’s the state patrol,” Glen answered.

  “What makes you think Tom and Sandy are out there?” Russ asked, motioning toward the desert.

  “Tom called me last night and said they were coming out here, and now they’ve disappeared.”

  “They could have gone somewhere else.”

  Glen shook his head, “Tom’s truck’s here, and Lucy Handling said Colton told her he was going hunting.”

  “Lucy! Lucy’s alive?”

  Glen nodded, “Colton had her locked up there in his house,” he said, motioning toward the house.

  “Who the hell would have believed it?”

  “I think he’s the one responsible for the disappearance of those other girls too,” Glen said, looking out across the desert.

  “You think Colton killed’em?”

  “Yeah, but right now we have to concentrate on finding Tom and Sandy.”

  “You think they’re with him?”

  “With him? I think he’s hunting them.”

  “Hunting them?”

  “Colton’s been hunting people, Russ. Not game animals.”

  Russ swallowed. “How do you know?”

  “Tom came back from Santa Rosa and said that the girls we uncovered had scars on their feet like they’d been running in the desert, and they’d both been shot with a 30-30,” Glen explained. “And since Tom and Sandy are both missing… I think there’s a good chance Colton’s hunting them.”

  “Mac Coppola think that?”

  “I don’t know what he thinks.”

  “You know,” Russ nodded. “I always thought Colton had a few screws screwed in crooked, but I never figured him to do something like this.” He shook his head, “So you think he killed those girls?”

  “Tom and I both think he killed them.”

  Russ frowned, shaking his head. “Moratelli said he thought they took off.”

  “He thought different here the last few days.”

  “If Colton’s the one that killed all of them, why didn’t we find’em? We only dug up two.”

  Glen shrugged. “I don’t know. We find him… he can tell us what he did with the others.”

  “You really think you’re going to find Colton out there?”

  “We have planes in the air and troopers all over these roads. We’ll find him.”

  “Colton knows roads that aren’t even on the map. He knows this territory like you know the back of your hand.”

  “And if he’s out here we’ll… they’ll find him,” Glen stated, pointing up at a plane. He walked over to one of the state troopers who were watching the dogs work. “Why haven’t they found anything?”

  The trooper looked at him. “They’re looking.”

  “I have something!” one of the dog handlers called out. “Someone bring a shovel.”

  Glen swallowed. He slowly walked over to where a couple of men were shoveling. Waiting, he looked around. The faces of the state troopers and the dog handlers were somber. They, like him, were not anxious for the results.

  “We have bones,” one of the men digging announced.

  “Get forensics in here,” one of the troopers ordered. “Where’s Sergeant Coppola?”

  “He’s headed this way,” a trooper answered kneeling down and looking at the bones. “You sure these are human?” he asked. “There isn’t any head and they have marks on them like they’re from something that’s been butchered.”

  “How do you know that?” Glen asked, looking at the bones.

  “They have cut marks on them made by a knife. You see the cuts going across them?” the trooper pointed.

  “They’re human,” another trooper stated. “Look there. That’s a rib bone?”

  “Yeah, but -.”

  “Forensics can tell us for sure,” Glen stated turning away from the scene. “We have to find Tom and Sandy.”

  A trooper, carrying a red sweater, walked up to one of the dog handlers with a Blood Hound. “Did you find them?”

  “It ‘s bones,” the dog handler answered.

  “This belongs to Sandy,” the trooper said, handing the sweater that had been in Tom’s truck, to the dog handler.

  The dog handler put it in front of the dog’s nose as he unfastened the leash. “Find her,” he ordered, and the dog started hunting for the scent.

  Glen watched as the dog hunted the area. “What if they aren’t around here?”

  “Then he’ll let us know,” the trooper answered. “Some of these dogs can trail them right down the road.”

  “Even if they’ve been taken by car?”

  The trooper nodded. “Even if they’ve been taken by car.”

  “Glen Norman!” A trooper yelled from near his car.

  “That’s me!” Glen answered, and started walking to his car.

  “Denise is trying to get a hold of you. She says it’s urgent.”

  * * * *

  Tom looked at the nurse standing above him taking his blood pressure. “I want to see my wife.”

  “She’s sleeping.”

  “I said, I want to see her.”

  The nurse frowned, taking the cuff off his arm. She pulled the curtain back from between the beds. “You see, she’s sleeping. As soon as we have another room available, we’ll be moving one of you into it.”

  “I don’t want you moving one of us into it.”

  “We can’t have men and women sharing the same -.”

  “She’s my wife.” Tom raised his head to look over at the other bed. “She’s all ri
ght?”

  “Exhaustion, dehydration and hyperthermia, but she’s going to be all right,” the nurse answered, as a doctor came into the room.

  “You’re awake sooner than I figured you’d be. So how are you feeling?” the doctor asked. He took the chart, as the nurse handed it to him, and looked at it.

  “I’ve felt better,” Tom answered, as he looked over at Sandy. “How’s my wife?”

  “She’s coming along,” the doctor answered. “You’ve both been through a hell of an ordeal, stranded out there in the desert. Good thing for you that good Christian couple came along when they did and -.”

  “They own a strip club. And we weren’t stranded. We were being hunted.”

  The doctor looked at him. “You what?”

  “We were being hunted. I need a phone. I have to make a call.”

  “You want us to call the police?”

  “No, I want you to get me a damn phone.”

  The doctor nodded and motioned to the nurse to get him the phone. “You want to call -.”

  “I know who to call.” Tom pushed a number into the phone. “Mac, Tom Moratelli… Yeah, we’re all right. We’re in the hospital… Santa Rosa… Colton Hornbaker. He took us to the desert and was hunting us, like we were animals… Who found her?.. That’s good. I just wanted to let you know we’re all right, but you have to find Hornbaker.” Tom looked at the doctor. “I have to go… I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up the phone.

  “I had no idea,” the doctor said. He looked over at Sandy. “You want to see her?”

  Tom nodded. “Yeah, I want to see her. And I don’t want you moving one of us to a different room.”

  “We’re not going to move either one of you.” the doctor said as he moved the I.V out of the way. “I want you to sit up slowly. If you feel dizzy, I don’t want you getting up. You understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  The doctor helped Tom sit up on the edge of the bed. “Are you doing all right, Tom?”

  Tom nodded.

  “Doctor?” The nurse looked at him.

  “It’s all right,” he assured her. He put a hospital robe across Tom’s shoulders. “You think you’re able to stand?”

  Tom nodded, “I think so.”

  “Hold onto the side of the bed until you know for sure. I don’t want this I.V getting pulled out of your arm.”

  Tom stood as the nurse stood by ready to help. The doctor was right. He took hold of the hand rail of the bed to steady himself. As soon as he felt steady on his feet, Tom walked over to Sandy’s bedside, as the nurse followed with the I.V machine and the doctor held onto him. He looked at the I.V in Sandy’s arm and swallowed. “You’re sure she’s okay?”

  “She’ll be fine,” the doctor reassured him. “She needs fluids and rest, just like you.”

  Tom leaned down to Sandy. “We made it, honey,” he whispered in Sandy’s ear. “We’re going to be all right.” He gently kissed her lips. “I love you.” Straightening up, he looked at the doctor, then walked back to his own bed. “Can you leave the curtain open?” he asked, getting back in bed.

  “I don’t think that ought to be a problem,” the doctor said, pulling the sheet over his legs.

  Twenty-Two

  Jerry Mustafa, with Tory Stoutman sitting beside him, banked the plane. They looked down, searching the desert floor.

  “This is about like trying to find a needle in a haystack,” Jerry said.

  “We got two planes up and he’s a big needle,” Tory said. “This has to be the best way to find him.”

  “I’ll agree with that, but I don’t know if he’s that big of needle out here.”

  “Why don’t we try going south?” Tory suggested.

  “There’s nothing in the south but desert.”

  “That’s right. If you’re running from someone, you don’t go the way they expect you too.”

  “Makes sense.” Jerry banked the plane to the south. “He’s driving that silver truck?”

  Tory shook his head. “His old blue one.”

  “That’ll be easier to spot out here than that silver one.”

  “You heard what happened to his silver truck didn’t ya?”

  Jerry shook his head, “What happened to it?”

  “Tom broke the tail lights out of it.”

  “He did what?”

  “That’s what I heard,” Tory said looking down. “He pissed Tom off.”

  “So this is Colton’s payback huh?”

  Tory shrugged. “I don’t know. But we don’t find him I guarantee ya Tom will. And I wouldn’t want to be Colton when he does.”

  “Who the hell ya kiddin’? Mac Coppola’s runnin’ this outfit, he’ll find him. And I wouldn’t want to be Hornbaker when he does. Tom might beat the hell out of him, but Coppola’s got them damn dogs.” Jerry shook his head. “You know Glen Norman’s wife left him, don’t ya?”

  Tory shook his head as he looked at the desert floor. “I didn’t know.”

  “I flew her over to Santa Rosa the other day,” Jerry said as he banked the plane to the west.

  “Not everyone’s cut out to live out here,” Tory said, as the greenery below gave way to isolated desert.

  “That’s him, isn’t it?” Jerry asked, spotting a blue pickup with the large box in the back of it, speeding north.

  Tory nodded, “Hornbaker must have been on Old Camel Trail to Santa Rosa and changed his mind. He’s headed for the mountains.”

  “He gets in there and we could play hell trying to get him out.” Jerry said picking up the mic. “This is Mustafa, we got him sighted, headed for the mountains on the Old Stagecoach Trail, about two miles north of Camel Junction.”

  Colton looked up at the airplane. “So you think you got me do ya, Mustafa?”

  * * * *

  Glen walked over to Russ, who was watching the men with the dogs.

  “So what’s goin’ on?” Russ asked.

  “Frank and Nicole Zingg found Tom and Sandy early this morning on Camel Road on their way to church in Santa Rosa.”

  “You mean Old Camel Trail. They go to church?”

  “Yeah, they go to church. Nicole’s a very religious woman, you know.”

  “Really?” Russ raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Could have fooled me. They’re all right then?”

  Glen nodded. “Tom called Coppola from the hospital and told him they were.”

  “At least you know where they are,” Russ stated. “Now all you have to do is find Colton.”

  “Yeah, now all we have to do’s find Colton,” Glen nodded. “You and Mitch know this desert pretty good. Why aren’t you out there helping look for him?”

  “I ain’t no lawman. Colton’ll kill anyone who comes after him. Hell, he’ll shoot you a mile away! You’d never know what hit you.”

  “I didn’t know he had that kind of fire-power.”

  Russ shrugged, “I don’t know what he has besides that 30-30 he carries, but I don’t know that I want to find out.”

  Glen frowned. “It can’t reach that far,” he said, as he watched the dogs search the yard.

  “Six hundred feet’s far enough away for me not to want to be on the other end of.”

  “I don’t suppose you know if they’ve found any of the other girls?”

  Russ shook his head, looking at the dogs. “Not that I know of.”

  “Mac!” one of the troopers yelled from his car. “Mustafa’s found Hornbaker.”

  “Where at?” Mac asked walking to his car.

  “On the Old Stagecoach Road, he’s headed for the mountains.”

  “What the hell we waiting for, let’s go!” Mac ordered.

  Glen shrugged. He looked at Russ as he started to his car. “You comin’?”

  “Me? You want me to come with ya?”

  “We might need a tracker.”

  “Tracker! I don’t know how to track.”

  “You comin’ or n
ot?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Russ hurried up and opened the door,getting in the car.

  Glen pulled out behind one of the state patrol cars. “How long do you think it will take us to get him?”

  Russ shrugged, “Depends. Maybe not long. Maybe months.”

  “Months?”

  “Colton knows how to live off the land. And there’s people out here that’ll help him.”

  “After what he’s done?” Glen shook his head. “I think everyone within a hundred miles knows we’re looking for him and why.” He watched as a state patrol car went speeding around him.

  “Always some red neck out there that doesn’t get the message. Besides, Colton’s got a lot of friends, and most of them don’t care much for the law. That’s why they live in the middle of nowhere.”

  “You mean in the mountains?”

  “Same thing.”

  * * * *

  Jerry circled the plane overhead as he and Tory watched Colton’s pickup move down the desert road. “Patrol’s going to have a hard time finding him if he gets in the mountains,” he commented.

  “I don’t think so,” Tory replied. “Those dogs don’t miss much.”

  “Damn dogs,” Jerry said, as Tory picked up the radio mic.

  “Hornbaker’s turned off The Old Stagecoach Road and he’s headed west.”

  “I’ve seen them dogs work in the war. Good when they’re on your side, but if they’re not. They can tear a man to shreds.”

  “Cousin of the wolf aren’t they?” Tory asked.

  “Which damn road west?” Mac’s voice came over the radio.

  Jerry picked up the mic. “Forest Mountain Road.”

  Tory looked at Jerry. “That’s why he hunted all those girls down out there in the desert, so they couldn’t hide from him? If he was such a good hunter, why didn’t he hunt them in the mountains?”

  “I don’t know, but the man’s sick. Huntin’ people down like that, especially those girls.”

  “Yeah, well. We all seen what happened when he tried hunting someone who was better than him. He didn’t get the job done.”

  “Thank, god,” Jerry said. He pointed ahead of them. “There’s where he’s headed too.”

  Tory looked at the dense mountainous timber as Colton pulled up near it and stopped. “You know, Jerry. Hornbaker can shoot this plane down.”

  “I know. He does, I’ll kill him personally.” Jerry banked the plane and circled back. Picking up the mic, he gave the troopers on the ground the coordinates.

  * * * *

  Glen looked at Russ. “You know those coordinates?”

  “Hell no! What do you think I am? Some military genius? Nobody uses longitude and latitude anymore.”