"Too Many Skeletons For One Closet"
May. 21st, 2022 02:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dochermes"Too Many Skeletons For One Closet"
3/24-3/30/1994
I.
The blonde teen walked into CASEY'S at eleven, shrugged off her windbreaker and sat down at the bar. Casey himself was on duty that night, the regular bartender had called out sick. There was nothing charming about Casey, he was fat and bald and grumpy, but he served decent-sized drinks and saw to it that the hamburgers and hot sandwiches from the kitchen were done right. A big screen TV high up on one wall was showing a hocket game and two guys were debating which team was worst. Casey examined the blonde's ID as if life itself depended on it, but finally handed it back to her and asked what she wanted. The blonde asked for a Coke, explaining she was just waiting for two girlfriends to show up to drive her back to college.
Seated a few stools down was a man in all black... slacks, turtleneck and sportjacket. He was finishing off a hot roast beef sandwich and a glass of iced tea. As the blonde sat down, she glanced over at him but the look in his pale grey eyes was not friendly and she sipped her Coke as if he didn't exist. The girl looked great. She was wearing tight blue pants with flared bottoms on the legs and a snug polyester blouse opened a button or two too many. Her hair was the color of butter, hanging straight down her slim back and she had a tanned, freckled face that seemed to belong in a magazine ad.Within a few minutes, Ted Haines casually came over. "Mind if I join you for a minute?"
She smiled at him. Ted was wearing a business suit with the tie loosened and the top button on the shirt opened. She glanced at his shoes, his watch, the pale circle where a wedding ring usually sat, and in an instant she had made her decision. "It's a free country, my friend. My name is Holly."
Ted checked her out openly. She was obviously not wearing a bra and had the high firm breasts that time would lower. Her grin as she watched him showed the flash of perfect teeth. "See anything you like?"
"I see everything I like," he answered. "You're just perfect. I'm Ted, I work in a boring insurance office but I'm a fun guy." As Casey grumbled at him, Ted ordered a screwdriver and asked her what she wanted. Holly leaned closer and said, "Let's cut to the good stuff, okay. I'm a student at the University of Vermont, with a crummy part-time job and cheap parents. Maybe we can help each other out."
Without seeming to, the nearby man in black was catching every word. He held up his empty glass for a refill and frowned.
"Well, I'm open to the idea," said Ted. "We each have something the other one wants, right? Let me have some details."
"Sure," Holly whispered. "My girlfriend Erin and I are staying across the highway in that little motel. See it? We're just there for the weekend. She took her car and went into High Woods to the movies and left me stranded. So I've got at least three hours before she comes back." The blonde leaned close and breathed in his ear, "We could have a lot of fun in an hour, I promise you that."
Ted was grinning as widely as he could."And of course I would want to give you a little present. Just to show my appreciation."
The blonde shrugged. "Sounds fair. Two hundred dollars. I mean, look at me, not bragging or anything but just take a good look and imagine me sliding under the blanket with you..."
"I'm convinced. There's an ATM outside. Let's get you in my Prius and get to know each other." He helped her with her windbreaker and walked her to the door. As they walked by the man in black, Holly was saying, "I don't normally do this but the price of textbooks is killing my budget..."
As they left the bar, the man in black sighed almost inaudibly and swiveled to look out the wide picture window with the neon letters that read CASEY'S backwards from where he sat. He watched Ted hold the door for the girl, then go over to the ATM. So obvious. As he got behind the wheel, Ted spun the car around and crossed the highway to where the COZEE MOTEL sat almost directly opposite the tavern. He watched the white Prius pull up to the second door from the end, and decided it was time to move.
Jeremy Bane got off the stool, left a tip and headed out the door. In late March, this part of Vermont was still chilly at night. He stood for an instant by his own car, a dark green Subaru, and decided to leave it there for the moment. As soon as he sprinted away from the lights of CASEY'S, Bane in his black outfit was only a vague shadow in the gloom. He raced across the parking lot, saw no oncoming cars and was across the highway in a flash, flattening himself beside a tall soda machine at the end of the row of rooms. There was the Prius and a light went on in the window of Room 7.
The Dire Wolf waited for what he expected. Sure enough, a man got out of a SUV parked down the line and strode angrily up to Room 7. The door had been left unlocked - Holly had done that, Bane figured- and the man turned the knob. He was a bit over six feet tall, slim, with a full head of curly black hair that looked almost as if he had it permed. Bane crept past the man unobserved,clipped something under the rear fender of the SUV and stalked back with complete silence.The man slammed the door open and went in, never seeing Bane creep up not three feet behind him, looking over his shoulder.
Standing in the center of the room, Holly had dropped her blouse on the floor and Ted was kneading her breasts eagerly. She looked up and yelled, "Daddy!"
"Daddy?" echoed Ted, stepping away from the blonde as if she had caught on fire.
"By God, you're going to jail, mister," said the curly-haired Daddy. "Do you know my daughter is only fifteen? You're going to be on the sex offender list the rest of your life."
"Fifteen...?! She showed the bartender her ID. Honestly, mister, I didn't mean any harm."
"I'm pressing charges. Your face is going to be in the papers tomorrow!" Daddy yelled.
"Wait, wait, we can work something out. Here's my ATM card, my Visa card, it's got five thousand dollars credit on it. I won't report it missing for a few days. Don't ruin my life. I'll lose my job, my marriage..."
"You should have thought of that before you dragged a child into this motel, mister. I'm calling the police."
Holly was buttoning her blouse and tucking it in. "Wait, Daddy. You know times are hard. We can pay off some of our bills. And he didn't have sex with me... Who the hell are you?" she suddenly shouted.
Bane had stepped into the room and was standing with folded arms. "The badger game, old as time. Ted, get in your car and go home. These two are con artists, they were shaking you down for every penny you have."
As the man ran from the room, jumped into his car and peeled out onto the highway at seventy miles per hour, the Dire Wolf blocked Daddy's path with quiet calm. "Where's the rest of the Trapper family?"
"Who do you think you are! I'm defending my daughter's virginity--!"
"I am a Private Investigator. The FBI department 21 Black has asked me to help track your clan down. I've been following leads for three days now and finally I'm getting somewhere. Morgan Trapper, I'm placing you under arrest for about ten thousand crimes."
Morgan Trapper reached behind him and came up with a seven-inch knife that he drove forward in a fencer's lunge. Bane swept that attack aside with an outer circular block and smashed the heel of his open hand to the center of Morgan's chest with a noise like a stick snapping. The man wheezed and sat down on the floor, trying to catch his breath. The Dire Wolf went on, "And your so-called daughter as well."
As he said this, Holly rushed up to press her body against him. "Oh thank you, thank you," she said. "He forced me to do this, he beat me and said he'd hurt me bad if I didn't go along."
"Save it for the judge," Bane began as something cracked behind his ear with murderous force. He fell to his hands and knees, not quite unconscious but dazed. Someone said something but the ringing in his ears was too loud to make words out. Vaguely, he felt hands pawing at his clothing and he slapped them away hard. A door slammed. He managed to get up, fell down again and struggled into a sitting position, waiting for his head to clear.
II.
It was only two or three minutes before Bane got to his feet, feeling normal except for the throbbing pain. Decades of the Tagra tea diet had boosted his healing factor beyond what medical science could accept. He was not indestructible, he still felt pain and he could be killed, but he recovered quickly from trauma that would place regular humans in an ICU. The Dire Wolf made it to the bathroom, flicked on the light and lowered his head in the sink to run cold water over it. Spluttering, he reached for a towel and found just an empty rack. He looked up. All the towels and washcloths, the soap and shampoo and mouthwash were gone. The Trappers stole as a way of life. He wiped his face with his hands and gingerly explored the bump behind his right ear. It was sore but it would go away within the next hour. The girl had smacked him hard with a sap of some kind and he deserved it for letting her get that close.
The Dire Wolf went out and sat on the bed, which had no pillows or sheets or blankets. Even the TV had been unbolted and taken. He shook his head, which he immediately regretted. All the stories about the Trapper family seemed to be true. Bane spent ten minutes searching the room for clues, but found nothing. These drifters were too good at their way of life. He stepped outside into the night, saw no one watching, and crossed the parking lot, more than a little disgusted with himself. He had allowed the girl to get too close, she had decked him and if one of them had been carrying a gun, they could easily have killed him. Bane swore not to underestimate these people again.
Reaching his Subaru, he started it up. On the back seat was a knapsack he always kept stocked with a change of clothes and personal items, but underneath was a flat metal case. Bane put the case on his lap, opened the hidden lock and lifted the lid. Various Trom devices were packed neatly in white cardboard boxes. With Leonard Slade dead, Bane had no access to Trom technology and could not replace or repair these items. They were advanced beyond current Human knowledge. He took out a metal gimmick the size of a pack of cigarettes and thumbed its ON switch. One side lit up with a screen showing a small green blip over a grid. Bane made a few adjustments. The tracer he had planted on Morgan's SUV indicated that the vehicle was heading west at just over the speed limit. Keeping the monitor in one hand, he pulled out of CASEY'S parking lot and headed west himself.
Midnight passed as he whipped along the highway. This would make it the fourth day since he had agreed to track down the Trappers and the first time he had actually encountered them. Most of his cases were over in a few frantic hours. Four days ago, two agents of 21 Black had shown up at his office on 44th Street in Manhattan and tried to recruit him. He had not been particularly interested. Con artists, grifters, shoplifters... these were not his usual prey. It wasn't until the FBI agents had detailed the six murders known definitely to be the work of the Trappers that Bane had taken an interest. Then Agent Gaddis had told the story of how Morgan and Carly Trapper had first gone to live outside the law.
Morgan had been an architect working on city projects, including a new stadium, when he had met Carlotta Brink and they recognized each other as amoral sociopaths hiding within normal society. They had instinctively kept their relationship clandestine. Within six months, Carly's husband Don shot himself to death, leaving an incoherent note and a massive life insurance policy. She was at work that day, with nine witnesses to back her up. Then, at the end of that year, Morgan's wife Millie drowned in the Kilmer Creek after drinking a bottle of brandy and mixing it with painkillers. Morgan was in the next state at the time of her death, meeting with city planners in an all-day seminar. There seemed to be no connection between the two deaths, and as far as any of their friends knew, Morgan and Carly did not even meet until after the deaths of their spouses.
But there were some odd details that FBI investigators noted. The handwriting on Don's suicide note was probably his but experts felt it could have been an imitation by someone who knew him well. His wife, for example. The almost empty bottle of painkillers found on Millie's body had the label ripped off and no pharmacy reported such a prescription for her. A few other discrepancies led to agents visiting the new couple with some pointed questions.
arry
The following day, Morgan and Carly fell off the radar. They evidently lived as nomads, leaving no paper trails, using dozens of fake IDs, buying old cars for cash and carrying a collection of stolen license plates which they changed constantly. As the years went by and they avoided capture, the Trappers became something of an urban legend. In time, they were spotted with small children. Two girls with blonde hair, two boys with black hair; the oldest seemed to be about sixteen at last sighting. Law enforcement agencies downplayed the existence of the Trappers, not least out of embarassment about being unable to catch them.
But lately, the family had been getting violent for the first time. Bodies began turning up where the Trappers had been seen. One or more of them had developed a taste for killing. This was when Department 21 Black decided to see if the Dire Wolf was interested.
Now, at one in the morning on the outskirts of a Vermont town, Bane had had his first brush with the Trappers and he was on their trail with his pride hurt.
III.
The Golden Pantry was part of a chain of supermarkets throughout the Northeast. According to the tracker, Morgan's SUV had stopped moving ten minutes earlier and Bane spotted it toward the rear of the gigantic, almost empty parking lot. He pulled in toward the opposite end, walked around behind the supermarket itself and emerged from the shadows of the loading dock where he had a good view. A beat-up Jeep Forester was parked next to the SUV, but no one was in sight. Bane settled back to watch and wait. He examined his .38 long-barreled Colt and replaced it to the hip holster which his jacket hid. The silver daggers were as always sheathed on his forearms, hilts forward for easy draw, and he was wearing the silk-thin Trom armor under his clothing, so he was as ready as ever.
Ten minutes passed. Bane had planned on following the Trappers to see if they were staying somewhere. His briefing told him they did a lot of squatting in summer homes during the months when the owners were away, and that would mean he could add breaking and entry charges. But he wanted to wrap this up, there was more than enough evidence already and the outstanding warrents alone meant lots of jail time. Besides, these people were slippery. He figured it was best to just nail them hard and get it over with. He decided to get closer and dashed over to a group of trees on the outside of the parking lot, almost within reach of the two vehicles. He froze behind a tree as he spotted movement at one of the supermarket doors. A blonde woman and two children were approaching. She was carrying a single plastic bag. As they approached the Jeep, the family passed under a lightpole and he got a good clear look. Carly Trapper was about forty, not bad-looking, with short blonde hair and a trim figure. The kids were mismatched, both looked to be about seven but the boy had curly black hair and the girl had bright yellow pigtails the same color as the hair of both Carly and Holly. They were wearing somewhat garish clothing, loose red slacks and polo shirts with horizontal stripes of green and blue, heavy down-filled coats. Nothing matched.
Bane watched as the woman opened the rear door and held out an empty shopping bag. "Empty those pockets, children," she said and the little boy and girl pulled an assortment of items from their clothing and dropped them into the bag. There was a little bit of everything... bandaids, candy bars, canned soup, a magazine, two peaches, Swiss cheese. The items kept coming out after Bane was certain there couldn't possible be any more.
"Not bad," Carly said. "You guys are learning. Of course Holly is a great distraction. When she raised her arms overhead and stretched, every man in there was hypnotized. You could have walked out with one of the registers."
As she spoke, the blonde teen trotted cheerfully across the parking lot and started emptying her own pockets. "Nice haul. We eat tonight."
"Where's Dad? And Freddie?" asked the little boy. "We've been here too long as it is."
"I know," the mother said. "But they must have a good reason. Everyone get in, we're switching cars. Girls in the SUV, boys in the Jeep."
As soon as the doors slammed shut, Bane crawled out on hands and knees with a potato-sized rock in each hand. He wedged them as deep as he could in the tailpipes of each vehicle, then backed away. As soon as he was concealed again, Morgan Trapper came hurrying up with a teenage boy beside him. They were carrying boxes of soda six-packs.
"Now we really have to get moving," Morgan grumbled. "They'll find the driver any minute. I didn't see any reason why he had to die, Freddie."
"How about because it makes me laugh?" Freddie answered. "I like the expressions on their faces when they realize they're dying. It makes me happy."
"Time and a place for everything," Morgan said, "even killing. Carly, we'll meet you gals at the next stop, right before the Interstate. Time for New Hampshire, I figure. Get in, Freddie."
Neither vehicle turned over. After a few minutes, Bane could hear Morgan curse and get out. He popped the hood of his Jeep and said to Freddie, "Go check out the SUV. This is mighty peculiar."
Bane was waiting behind the SUV, down on fingertips and toes. Freddie came around the side of the vehicle, a tall lanky boy with the same curly black hair as his brother and father. As he stepped into sight, Bane pounced and lifted him off the ground entirely, squeezing the boy in a sleeper hold. Freddie kicked at the air and wriggled but passed out in a few seconds. Bane lowered the teen to the cold parking lot and, as an afterthought, slammed the boy's head hard to the ground to make sure he would stay out.
Under the hood of the Jeep, Morgan grumbled, "Damned if I see a problem. Freddie? What have you got?"
Bane stepped around, seized the father by the collar and yanked him into an elbow strike that rocked the man's head back. Morgan Trapper staggered like a drunk. The Dire Wolf threw a perfect left cross that dropped the man senseless, then rushed over to where Carly had wound down the window of the SUV. "What was that noise? Honey, are you okay?"
Taking a pair of handcuffs from the back of his belt, Bane snapped one cuff around the woman's left wrist and the other around the steering wheel. "Don't go anywhere," he said and leaped around to the other side of the vehicle just as Holly jumped out and started to run. Bane tripped her, she went down on her stomach with a grunt and he pinned her down with a boot in the center of her back. "You're not going anywhere either."
The blonde teen struggled anyway. "You again. Let me go, mister. I'm not one of these people."
"That's why you're playing the badger game and shoplifting with them,eh? Forget it."
"Listen, I'll do anything you want if you let me go. I know tricks your wife never heard of. You won't regret it."
"You're wasting your breath." Bane seized her arm and bent it up behind her back, bending the wrist on that arm the wrong way as well.
"Owww. You're hurting me, let me go. I'll scream rape. I'll get the cops here."
"The police will be here soon enough," Bane said. "This might hurt a little." He drove three stiffened fingers deep into her solar plexus, forcing the blood from her torso so fast that she passed out. The Dire Wolf lowered her to lean against the side of the SUV. He hauled the stunned Morgan and Freddie over, yanked off their belts and tied their hands behind them tightly. Morgan had shoelaces he could use and he bound Holly's wrists behind her the same way.
Bane straightened up. Carly was staring at him with white-faced venom. The two children in the back added to the angry glares. He studied their faces for a minute. "You know, Carly, none of you resemble each other in the slightest. The boys have their hair dyed black and permed to look a little like Morgan, and the girls have their hair dyed the same color as yours. But you're not a biological family at all."
Carly said, "There's twenty thousand dollars hidden on that Jeep. How about you take it and let me go?"
"These aren't your children at all, are they? I bet we'll find DNA testing proves they are missing kids you abducted as babies and raised as your own." Bane shook his head.
"Momma, that can't be true, can it?" lisped the little blonde girl.
"So what? We raised you, you're ours. We ARE a family." Carly was trying to break the steering wheel to get loose but with no results.
Bane took out his phone, looking to make sure neither Morgan nor Freddie nor Holly showed signs of stirring. "Hello? Vermont State Police? Sgt Stoebel? Yes, this is Jeremy Bane. I've got them. In the parking lot of the Golden Pantry. There may be a fresh murder victim nearby as well. Hurry. I'm watching them." He hung up. "Talk about a family with a skeleton or two in the closet. You bunch need more than one closet."
2/23/2014
3/24-3/30/1994
I.
The blonde teen walked into CASEY'S at eleven, shrugged off her windbreaker and sat down at the bar. Casey himself was on duty that night, the regular bartender had called out sick. There was nothing charming about Casey, he was fat and bald and grumpy, but he served decent-sized drinks and saw to it that the hamburgers and hot sandwiches from the kitchen were done right. A big screen TV high up on one wall was showing a hocket game and two guys were debating which team was worst. Casey examined the blonde's ID as if life itself depended on it, but finally handed it back to her and asked what she wanted. The blonde asked for a Coke, explaining she was just waiting for two girlfriends to show up to drive her back to college.
Seated a few stools down was a man in all black... slacks, turtleneck and sportjacket. He was finishing off a hot roast beef sandwich and a glass of iced tea. As the blonde sat down, she glanced over at him but the look in his pale grey eyes was not friendly and she sipped her Coke as if he didn't exist. The girl looked great. She was wearing tight blue pants with flared bottoms on the legs and a snug polyester blouse opened a button or two too many. Her hair was the color of butter, hanging straight down her slim back and she had a tanned, freckled face that seemed to belong in a magazine ad.Within a few minutes, Ted Haines casually came over. "Mind if I join you for a minute?"
She smiled at him. Ted was wearing a business suit with the tie loosened and the top button on the shirt opened. She glanced at his shoes, his watch, the pale circle where a wedding ring usually sat, and in an instant she had made her decision. "It's a free country, my friend. My name is Holly."
Ted checked her out openly. She was obviously not wearing a bra and had the high firm breasts that time would lower. Her grin as she watched him showed the flash of perfect teeth. "See anything you like?"
"I see everything I like," he answered. "You're just perfect. I'm Ted, I work in a boring insurance office but I'm a fun guy." As Casey grumbled at him, Ted ordered a screwdriver and asked her what she wanted. Holly leaned closer and said, "Let's cut to the good stuff, okay. I'm a student at the University of Vermont, with a crummy part-time job and cheap parents. Maybe we can help each other out."
Without seeming to, the nearby man in black was catching every word. He held up his empty glass for a refill and frowned.
"Well, I'm open to the idea," said Ted. "We each have something the other one wants, right? Let me have some details."
"Sure," Holly whispered. "My girlfriend Erin and I are staying across the highway in that little motel. See it? We're just there for the weekend. She took her car and went into High Woods to the movies and left me stranded. So I've got at least three hours before she comes back." The blonde leaned close and breathed in his ear, "We could have a lot of fun in an hour, I promise you that."
Ted was grinning as widely as he could."And of course I would want to give you a little present. Just to show my appreciation."
The blonde shrugged. "Sounds fair. Two hundred dollars. I mean, look at me, not bragging or anything but just take a good look and imagine me sliding under the blanket with you..."
"I'm convinced. There's an ATM outside. Let's get you in my Prius and get to know each other." He helped her with her windbreaker and walked her to the door. As they walked by the man in black, Holly was saying, "I don't normally do this but the price of textbooks is killing my budget..."
As they left the bar, the man in black sighed almost inaudibly and swiveled to look out the wide picture window with the neon letters that read CASEY'S backwards from where he sat. He watched Ted hold the door for the girl, then go over to the ATM. So obvious. As he got behind the wheel, Ted spun the car around and crossed the highway to where the COZEE MOTEL sat almost directly opposite the tavern. He watched the white Prius pull up to the second door from the end, and decided it was time to move.
Jeremy Bane got off the stool, left a tip and headed out the door. In late March, this part of Vermont was still chilly at night. He stood for an instant by his own car, a dark green Subaru, and decided to leave it there for the moment. As soon as he sprinted away from the lights of CASEY'S, Bane in his black outfit was only a vague shadow in the gloom. He raced across the parking lot, saw no oncoming cars and was across the highway in a flash, flattening himself beside a tall soda machine at the end of the row of rooms. There was the Prius and a light went on in the window of Room 7.
The Dire Wolf waited for what he expected. Sure enough, a man got out of a SUV parked down the line and strode angrily up to Room 7. The door had been left unlocked - Holly had done that, Bane figured- and the man turned the knob. He was a bit over six feet tall, slim, with a full head of curly black hair that looked almost as if he had it permed. Bane crept past the man unobserved,clipped something under the rear fender of the SUV and stalked back with complete silence.The man slammed the door open and went in, never seeing Bane creep up not three feet behind him, looking over his shoulder.
Standing in the center of the room, Holly had dropped her blouse on the floor and Ted was kneading her breasts eagerly. She looked up and yelled, "Daddy!"
"Daddy?" echoed Ted, stepping away from the blonde as if she had caught on fire.
"By God, you're going to jail, mister," said the curly-haired Daddy. "Do you know my daughter is only fifteen? You're going to be on the sex offender list the rest of your life."
"Fifteen...?! She showed the bartender her ID. Honestly, mister, I didn't mean any harm."
"I'm pressing charges. Your face is going to be in the papers tomorrow!" Daddy yelled.
"Wait, wait, we can work something out. Here's my ATM card, my Visa card, it's got five thousand dollars credit on it. I won't report it missing for a few days. Don't ruin my life. I'll lose my job, my marriage..."
"You should have thought of that before you dragged a child into this motel, mister. I'm calling the police."
Holly was buttoning her blouse and tucking it in. "Wait, Daddy. You know times are hard. We can pay off some of our bills. And he didn't have sex with me... Who the hell are you?" she suddenly shouted.
Bane had stepped into the room and was standing with folded arms. "The badger game, old as time. Ted, get in your car and go home. These two are con artists, they were shaking you down for every penny you have."
As the man ran from the room, jumped into his car and peeled out onto the highway at seventy miles per hour, the Dire Wolf blocked Daddy's path with quiet calm. "Where's the rest of the Trapper family?"
"Who do you think you are! I'm defending my daughter's virginity--!"
"I am a Private Investigator. The FBI department 21 Black has asked me to help track your clan down. I've been following leads for three days now and finally I'm getting somewhere. Morgan Trapper, I'm placing you under arrest for about ten thousand crimes."
Morgan Trapper reached behind him and came up with a seven-inch knife that he drove forward in a fencer's lunge. Bane swept that attack aside with an outer circular block and smashed the heel of his open hand to the center of Morgan's chest with a noise like a stick snapping. The man wheezed and sat down on the floor, trying to catch his breath. The Dire Wolf went on, "And your so-called daughter as well."
As he said this, Holly rushed up to press her body against him. "Oh thank you, thank you," she said. "He forced me to do this, he beat me and said he'd hurt me bad if I didn't go along."
"Save it for the judge," Bane began as something cracked behind his ear with murderous force. He fell to his hands and knees, not quite unconscious but dazed. Someone said something but the ringing in his ears was too loud to make words out. Vaguely, he felt hands pawing at his clothing and he slapped them away hard. A door slammed. He managed to get up, fell down again and struggled into a sitting position, waiting for his head to clear.
II.
It was only two or three minutes before Bane got to his feet, feeling normal except for the throbbing pain. Decades of the Tagra tea diet had boosted his healing factor beyond what medical science could accept. He was not indestructible, he still felt pain and he could be killed, but he recovered quickly from trauma that would place regular humans in an ICU. The Dire Wolf made it to the bathroom, flicked on the light and lowered his head in the sink to run cold water over it. Spluttering, he reached for a towel and found just an empty rack. He looked up. All the towels and washcloths, the soap and shampoo and mouthwash were gone. The Trappers stole as a way of life. He wiped his face with his hands and gingerly explored the bump behind his right ear. It was sore but it would go away within the next hour. The girl had smacked him hard with a sap of some kind and he deserved it for letting her get that close.
The Dire Wolf went out and sat on the bed, which had no pillows or sheets or blankets. Even the TV had been unbolted and taken. He shook his head, which he immediately regretted. All the stories about the Trapper family seemed to be true. Bane spent ten minutes searching the room for clues, but found nothing. These drifters were too good at their way of life. He stepped outside into the night, saw no one watching, and crossed the parking lot, more than a little disgusted with himself. He had allowed the girl to get too close, she had decked him and if one of them had been carrying a gun, they could easily have killed him. Bane swore not to underestimate these people again.
Reaching his Subaru, he started it up. On the back seat was a knapsack he always kept stocked with a change of clothes and personal items, but underneath was a flat metal case. Bane put the case on his lap, opened the hidden lock and lifted the lid. Various Trom devices were packed neatly in white cardboard boxes. With Leonard Slade dead, Bane had no access to Trom technology and could not replace or repair these items. They were advanced beyond current Human knowledge. He took out a metal gimmick the size of a pack of cigarettes and thumbed its ON switch. One side lit up with a screen showing a small green blip over a grid. Bane made a few adjustments. The tracer he had planted on Morgan's SUV indicated that the vehicle was heading west at just over the speed limit. Keeping the monitor in one hand, he pulled out of CASEY'S parking lot and headed west himself.
Midnight passed as he whipped along the highway. This would make it the fourth day since he had agreed to track down the Trappers and the first time he had actually encountered them. Most of his cases were over in a few frantic hours. Four days ago, two agents of 21 Black had shown up at his office on 44th Street in Manhattan and tried to recruit him. He had not been particularly interested. Con artists, grifters, shoplifters... these were not his usual prey. It wasn't until the FBI agents had detailed the six murders known definitely to be the work of the Trappers that Bane had taken an interest. Then Agent Gaddis had told the story of how Morgan and Carly Trapper had first gone to live outside the law.
Morgan had been an architect working on city projects, including a new stadium, when he had met Carlotta Brink and they recognized each other as amoral sociopaths hiding within normal society. They had instinctively kept their relationship clandestine. Within six months, Carly's husband Don shot himself to death, leaving an incoherent note and a massive life insurance policy. She was at work that day, with nine witnesses to back her up. Then, at the end of that year, Morgan's wife Millie drowned in the Kilmer Creek after drinking a bottle of brandy and mixing it with painkillers. Morgan was in the next state at the time of her death, meeting with city planners in an all-day seminar. There seemed to be no connection between the two deaths, and as far as any of their friends knew, Morgan and Carly did not even meet until after the deaths of their spouses.
But there were some odd details that FBI investigators noted. The handwriting on Don's suicide note was probably his but experts felt it could have been an imitation by someone who knew him well. His wife, for example. The almost empty bottle of painkillers found on Millie's body had the label ripped off and no pharmacy reported such a prescription for her. A few other discrepancies led to agents visiting the new couple with some pointed questions.
arry
The following day, Morgan and Carly fell off the radar. They evidently lived as nomads, leaving no paper trails, using dozens of fake IDs, buying old cars for cash and carrying a collection of stolen license plates which they changed constantly. As the years went by and they avoided capture, the Trappers became something of an urban legend. In time, they were spotted with small children. Two girls with blonde hair, two boys with black hair; the oldest seemed to be about sixteen at last sighting. Law enforcement agencies downplayed the existence of the Trappers, not least out of embarassment about being unable to catch them.
But lately, the family had been getting violent for the first time. Bodies began turning up where the Trappers had been seen. One or more of them had developed a taste for killing. This was when Department 21 Black decided to see if the Dire Wolf was interested.
Now, at one in the morning on the outskirts of a Vermont town, Bane had had his first brush with the Trappers and he was on their trail with his pride hurt.
III.
The Golden Pantry was part of a chain of supermarkets throughout the Northeast. According to the tracker, Morgan's SUV had stopped moving ten minutes earlier and Bane spotted it toward the rear of the gigantic, almost empty parking lot. He pulled in toward the opposite end, walked around behind the supermarket itself and emerged from the shadows of the loading dock where he had a good view. A beat-up Jeep Forester was parked next to the SUV, but no one was in sight. Bane settled back to watch and wait. He examined his .38 long-barreled Colt and replaced it to the hip holster which his jacket hid. The silver daggers were as always sheathed on his forearms, hilts forward for easy draw, and he was wearing the silk-thin Trom armor under his clothing, so he was as ready as ever.
Ten minutes passed. Bane had planned on following the Trappers to see if they were staying somewhere. His briefing told him they did a lot of squatting in summer homes during the months when the owners were away, and that would mean he could add breaking and entry charges. But he wanted to wrap this up, there was more than enough evidence already and the outstanding warrents alone meant lots of jail time. Besides, these people were slippery. He figured it was best to just nail them hard and get it over with. He decided to get closer and dashed over to a group of trees on the outside of the parking lot, almost within reach of the two vehicles. He froze behind a tree as he spotted movement at one of the supermarket doors. A blonde woman and two children were approaching. She was carrying a single plastic bag. As they approached the Jeep, the family passed under a lightpole and he got a good clear look. Carly Trapper was about forty, not bad-looking, with short blonde hair and a trim figure. The kids were mismatched, both looked to be about seven but the boy had curly black hair and the girl had bright yellow pigtails the same color as the hair of both Carly and Holly. They were wearing somewhat garish clothing, loose red slacks and polo shirts with horizontal stripes of green and blue, heavy down-filled coats. Nothing matched.
Bane watched as the woman opened the rear door and held out an empty shopping bag. "Empty those pockets, children," she said and the little boy and girl pulled an assortment of items from their clothing and dropped them into the bag. There was a little bit of everything... bandaids, candy bars, canned soup, a magazine, two peaches, Swiss cheese. The items kept coming out after Bane was certain there couldn't possible be any more.
"Not bad," Carly said. "You guys are learning. Of course Holly is a great distraction. When she raised her arms overhead and stretched, every man in there was hypnotized. You could have walked out with one of the registers."
As she spoke, the blonde teen trotted cheerfully across the parking lot and started emptying her own pockets. "Nice haul. We eat tonight."
"Where's Dad? And Freddie?" asked the little boy. "We've been here too long as it is."
"I know," the mother said. "But they must have a good reason. Everyone get in, we're switching cars. Girls in the SUV, boys in the Jeep."
As soon as the doors slammed shut, Bane crawled out on hands and knees with a potato-sized rock in each hand. He wedged them as deep as he could in the tailpipes of each vehicle, then backed away. As soon as he was concealed again, Morgan Trapper came hurrying up with a teenage boy beside him. They were carrying boxes of soda six-packs.
"Now we really have to get moving," Morgan grumbled. "They'll find the driver any minute. I didn't see any reason why he had to die, Freddie."
"How about because it makes me laugh?" Freddie answered. "I like the expressions on their faces when they realize they're dying. It makes me happy."
"Time and a place for everything," Morgan said, "even killing. Carly, we'll meet you gals at the next stop, right before the Interstate. Time for New Hampshire, I figure. Get in, Freddie."
Neither vehicle turned over. After a few minutes, Bane could hear Morgan curse and get out. He popped the hood of his Jeep and said to Freddie, "Go check out the SUV. This is mighty peculiar."
Bane was waiting behind the SUV, down on fingertips and toes. Freddie came around the side of the vehicle, a tall lanky boy with the same curly black hair as his brother and father. As he stepped into sight, Bane pounced and lifted him off the ground entirely, squeezing the boy in a sleeper hold. Freddie kicked at the air and wriggled but passed out in a few seconds. Bane lowered the teen to the cold parking lot and, as an afterthought, slammed the boy's head hard to the ground to make sure he would stay out.
Under the hood of the Jeep, Morgan grumbled, "Damned if I see a problem. Freddie? What have you got?"
Bane stepped around, seized the father by the collar and yanked him into an elbow strike that rocked the man's head back. Morgan Trapper staggered like a drunk. The Dire Wolf threw a perfect left cross that dropped the man senseless, then rushed over to where Carly had wound down the window of the SUV. "What was that noise? Honey, are you okay?"
Taking a pair of handcuffs from the back of his belt, Bane snapped one cuff around the woman's left wrist and the other around the steering wheel. "Don't go anywhere," he said and leaped around to the other side of the vehicle just as Holly jumped out and started to run. Bane tripped her, she went down on her stomach with a grunt and he pinned her down with a boot in the center of her back. "You're not going anywhere either."
The blonde teen struggled anyway. "You again. Let me go, mister. I'm not one of these people."
"That's why you're playing the badger game and shoplifting with them,eh? Forget it."
"Listen, I'll do anything you want if you let me go. I know tricks your wife never heard of. You won't regret it."
"You're wasting your breath." Bane seized her arm and bent it up behind her back, bending the wrist on that arm the wrong way as well.
"Owww. You're hurting me, let me go. I'll scream rape. I'll get the cops here."
"The police will be here soon enough," Bane said. "This might hurt a little." He drove three stiffened fingers deep into her solar plexus, forcing the blood from her torso so fast that she passed out. The Dire Wolf lowered her to lean against the side of the SUV. He hauled the stunned Morgan and Freddie over, yanked off their belts and tied their hands behind them tightly. Morgan had shoelaces he could use and he bound Holly's wrists behind her the same way.
Bane straightened up. Carly was staring at him with white-faced venom. The two children in the back added to the angry glares. He studied their faces for a minute. "You know, Carly, none of you resemble each other in the slightest. The boys have their hair dyed black and permed to look a little like Morgan, and the girls have their hair dyed the same color as yours. But you're not a biological family at all."
Carly said, "There's twenty thousand dollars hidden on that Jeep. How about you take it and let me go?"
"These aren't your children at all, are they? I bet we'll find DNA testing proves they are missing kids you abducted as babies and raised as your own." Bane shook his head.
"Momma, that can't be true, can it?" lisped the little blonde girl.
"So what? We raised you, you're ours. We ARE a family." Carly was trying to break the steering wheel to get loose but with no results.
Bane took out his phone, looking to make sure neither Morgan nor Freddie nor Holly showed signs of stirring. "Hello? Vermont State Police? Sgt Stoebel? Yes, this is Jeremy Bane. I've got them. In the parking lot of the Golden Pantry. There may be a fresh murder victim nearby as well. Hurry. I'm watching them." He hung up. "Talk about a family with a skeleton or two in the closet. You bunch need more than one closet."
2/23/2014
