Chapter Eleven

Officer Pete Nelson couldn’t comprehend what he was looking at. The Camaro was sitting a hundred feet from the stop sign on Milton Street, engine running, lights on, yet there was nobody in sight. The interior reeked of beer. Perhaps the driver had needed to pull over in a hurry.

After calling in the licence plate number, Pete leaned against his Crown Vic, waiting to hear back.

A dark lump in the grass next to the savings bank building caught his eye.

Reggie came over the comm.

“Looks like the car is registered to Kailin Boucher. Nineteen, 6’, 155 lbs. According to the registration, he lives at 38 Wilton Road in Saco.”

“Well, he ain’t out here,” Pete said. “And the car is just idling in the middle of the road.”

“Want me to send for a tow?”

“Yep, might as well give Jesse a call. He’s probably still awake.”

“Okay. Roger that.”

Pete placed the comm back on the hook and turned his Maglite on. There was a queer sensation running down his back, kind of like a millipede walking across his spine. He didn’t like it. He walked over to the Camaro and killed the engine before flicking the hazards on and dropping the keys on the driver’s seat.

The light gleamed for a split second over something wet on the blacktop beneath his feet.

He found the spot again with the beam.

Blood. Or at least, that’s what it looked like. He bent down and ran a finger along the edge of it. Pete Nelson didn’t have a doubt. It sure as shit was blood. He scanned the ground for more, but the drop was the sole specimen.

Great.

Sure, he wasn’t concerned about the new AIDS epidemic; he was straight. Not that he had a problem with gays, they were free to love who they wanted, but he really hadn’t thought it would be blood. Now, he’d gone and contaminated it with his finger. Chief would kick him in the balls if he fucked this up.

He stood, wiping his finger off on his pant leg.

Maybe the guy was carjacked? He’d never heard of anything like that happening here in town, but you never know. There always had to be a first time for everything.

He waltzed over to the bank and shone the light on the object he’d noticed in the grass. It was a boot.

It was a cowboy-style boot, snakeskin, or fake snakeskin, more likely. He scanned the lawn for the matching boot but came up empty.

Back at his car, he could see headlights coming up the road. Jesse and his tower, no doubt. A warmth flooded his body as the familiar truck pulled up next to him.

“Jesse, good to see you,” he said.

“What’s the deal with this, Pete?” Jesse asked, chunks of blond hair jutting out from beneath a blue bandana. “We got a drunk?”

Pete had played basketball in high school with Jesse. The guy was good. After his father passed, he wound up smoking dope, getting caught in the trap. Never went to college, never went anywhere. Damn shame. Talent, smarts, good looks, the guy had too much potential to get stuck in a place like this. Yet, here he was at one twenty-five in the a.m. fetching a vacant car.

“Smells like it,” Pete said. “Ain’t no sign of him though.” He made a point of looking around. “Car was right here when I arrived on the scene, still running.”

“Dude,” Jesse said. “That’s fucking weird.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I’ve been standing here for twenty minutes. All I found was a boot. Hell, might not even belong to the guy.”

“Huh? Want me to snatch her up and bring it down to the lot?”

“Yep.” Pete spat a brown stain onto the blacktop. “He’ll sure as shit come looking for it tomorrow.”

“Unless something happened to him.”

Pete had a rush of chills ghost through him. He hadn’t mentioned the drop of blood to Jesse. And he really didn’t like that the vehicle had been running.

“Jesus, Jessie, don’t go wishing harm on the guy.”

“It’s fucking weird is all. Well, let me get positioned. I’ll have it out of here in a jiffy.”

Even hearing Jessie talk like a backwoods burnout was a bummer.

Pete slapped the tow truck’s cab, gave Jesse a nod and backed away.

He waited until the tow truck drove off with the car before snatching the lone boot he’d found by the bank and heading back to the station to fill out his report.