Vanishing Point: One-hundred-two An Epilogue

Tags

Bishop Scudder, Caleb Ezra Morse, David Demetrius, Elohim's Army, Evah Lovin, Interlachen Elementary, Jim Lance, John Farmer, Karla Kisor, Manny Taisto, Mrs. McNutt, Stacie Shannon, Suzann Layher, Tyler Hinnenkamp

EPILOGUE

Caleb Ezra Morse pled not guilty and got out of prison on a technicality- technically he was dead. Caleb’s kidnapping, sexual, and aggravated assault charges fell under the federal hate crime umbrella and the federal prosecutor offered him a plea deal if he would provide evidence against the Elohim jihadist. Caleb had laughed at the prosecutor and later bragged to his fellow Elohim detainees that the prosecutor thought he could be bought with Judas’ silver.

Within a week of the offer, Caleb was found beaten to death in his cell, the hair and blood of one David Demetrius found in Caleb’s cell, along with Demetrius’ DNA on the murder weapon. What could have been damning evidence against a man who had openly fought with Caleb on the exercise lawn instead perplexed prison authorities. How could Demetrius’ DNA appear in Morse’s cell two days after Demetrius had been released from custody; a release that had been made possible via DNA evidence that eliminated David Demetrius as a suspect in his pending trial?

Caleb’s phone records and personal belongings led to one John Farmer who, faced with charges of conspiracy to kidnap, rape, torture and murder, had readily agreed to act as a confidential informant against the Elohim and his brother-in-law, Bishop Scudder. Elohim’s Army was on the run and authorities felt that Karla Karen Kisor was an unlikely target.

Caleb’s phone also held pictures of Evah Lovin, an African-American, transgender entertainer that Morse and Scudder had raped, killed and left in a shallow Mobile, Alabama grave. Caleb’s phone held a treasure trough of information that was used in establishing evidence against Scudder and his Elohim’s followers.

Upon Evah’s disappearance, a reward had been established by her many adoring fans for evidence leading to the discovery of MS Lovin’s whereabouts. Based on the evidence that Caleb Morse’s arrest had provided, the one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward went to Manny Taisto, Karla Kisor, Suzann Layher and Stacie Shannon. Stacie and Suzann attempted to give their $25,000 reward to Karla, but she refused, declaring, “Fair is fair.”

Karla and Suzann then established a 529, qualified tuition plan in Skylar’s name that each woman contributed $15,000 to. Manny Taisto, upon hearing of the generosity of his friend Suzann as well as that of her young co-worker, Stacie, contributed $5,000 to the account. “What? I don’t even know the woman. Plus, I could a been killed. Give me a fricking break, here.”

Because Karla’s residence was physically separate from Mrs. McNutt’s, the police and McNutt estate allowed her and Skylar to continue living in the tiny rented shack. The arrangement, though generous, proved untenable due to frequent, overwhelming nightmares that Skylar experienced. They were able to find affordable accommodations within walking or riding distance of Interlachen Elementary. Karla purchased a too small but much beloved Disney Princess bicycle for Skylar from Goodwill.

Sara Kohnen and Marti stopped referring to one another as “steps” and instead simply called each other Mom and daughter. Mark Kohnen, upon his wife’s insistence, reminded his wife of her demeanor when her less desirable traits surfaced. The favorable change in Marti and Sara’s relationship was marked, Mark’s and Marti’s not as much.

Fourth grade placed Sara and Skylar in separate classes but the two remained best friends. Marti frequently invited Karla and Skylar over for swims in the family pool.

Stacie Shannon’s fourth year of teaching was as heartfelt as her first three and she found her increase in confidence a blessing in dealing with fellow staff, parents and teachers. Jim Lance beat out Tyler Hinnenkamp for Stacie’s romantic attentions. The two are engaged but have not yet set a date.

Vanishing Point: One-hundred-one of 101

Tags

Caleb Ezra Morse, Doctor Goldstein, Doctor Kay Bikerman, Elohim's Army, Florida, Manny Taisto, Marti Kohnen, Officer Tierney Rosenstock, Pasco County, Pasco County Sherriff’s District Three Office, Sara Kohnen, Stacie Shannon, Suzann Layher, Trinity Florida, Trinity Hospital

PART ONE-HUNDRED-ONE

The noise from the living room poured into the bedroom. Skylar entered the room but, other than the blood-soaked bed, found no sign of her father or Marti. “Marti?” she asked. “It’s Skylar. Where are you?”

“Here,” Marti said quietly. “Other side of the bed.”

Skylar limped to the far side of the bed where Marti, crouched low, covered in blood, her sports bra pulled back up and stuffed with a pillowcase to staunch her bleeding, knife in hand, knelt beside Caleb.

“Is he,” Skylar began, paused and then continued, “Is he dead?”

“Not yet,” Marti replied, holding the knife to Caleb’s throat. “He’s got a pulse. I was just debating…”

“No, Marti! No! Sara needs you! If you kill him, you’ll go to prison. Prison’s where my daddy turned bad. Please don’t! Not for his sake, for Sara’s. And yours. Please?”

Marti dropped the knife. “You think Sara needs me?”

“I know she does. We all need to be loved.”

“God, I love that kid,” Marti said as the Pasco County deputies poured into the room, guns drawn and pointed to the heavens, “I really do. Thanks, Skylar.”

The cops rushed to Marti’s side of the bed, declaring, “Police! Police! Hands up!”

“Really?” Marti responded. “Really? Thanks for letting me know. My name’s Marti Kohnen and I’m the victim here, dip-shits. Me and my friend Skylar Kisor and that poor lady out there, Mrs. McNutt. Now, get us to the damn doctor. That ass-hole down there bit my damn nipple off.”

************

Mrs. McNutt didn’t survive; her resuscitation proved too large a miracle for paramedics with a defibrillator, but her death added Murder One to Caleb Ezra Morse’s criminal charges.

At Trinity Hospital, Marti pulled her gnawed off nipple from the right side of her bra, handed it to Doctor Bikerman and demanded, “First you bring me to my daughter then you get that reattached, got it?” Kay Bikerman knew just the man for the job, a reconstructive surgeon named Goldstein who specialized in post mastectomy breast reconstruction.

Manny Taisto was loosely handcuffed, hands in front, and transported to Officer Tierney Rosenstock’s Pasco County Sherriff’s District Three Office where he was questioned and released. During the interview he confided, “You know, I was NYPD for twenty-years, Pasco Deputy for five and I never shot nobody. I can’t tell how glad I am the piece of crap lived,” he left unsaid the, “for my sake,” that he was thinking.

Skylar, whose physical wounds were minor, was examined and released. “Mama, I don’t want to go back to our house,” she confided.

“Baby, I don’t know where else we can go,” Karla said mournfully.

Stacie looked at Suzann, shrugged and said, “Why don’t you stay at my place tonight. You can work this out in the morning.”

“Thank you, Stacie,” Karla replied. “You’re like an angel to me.”

“You’re the one with the wings,” Stacie said with a smile. “Suzann? You sobered up? I can take you to your car or you can sleep on my couch.”

“Plenty sober, thank you. I need my bed. Karla? I’m sorry we didn’t listen right away. We had no idea.”

“Oh, please. How could you? I’m just glad they locked Caleb up.”

“What about Elohim? What are you going to do?” Suzann asked.

“I own’t know. Talk to the police. But tomorrow. I’m exhausted.”

“Me, too,” Stacie declared. “Let’s go.”

The four females were heading for the door when officer Rosenstock’s voice stopped them. “Ladies? Ladies!” she called from a distance. Eliminating the gap between them she added, “I just wanted to say good work. I think it’s safe to say that you four plus Sara and Taisto saved the day here.”

“Hey!” Skylar said, “Don’t forget Marti.”

“As if,” Tierney replied shaking her head. “That woman want’s a deputy to meet her husband at the airport. Says if she can’t be there to tell him what happened then we need to. Talk about a piece of work.”

Vanishing Point: Ninety-three of 101

Tags

"WARNING! Grossly coarse language- sexual violence", Caleb Ezra Morse, Elohim's Army, Florida, Hot Mama, Marti Kohnen, Mrs. McNutt, Skylar Kisor, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Grossly coarse language- sexual violence.

PART NINETY-THREE

Caleb found the master bedroom and let out a hoot. “Hey, Marti!” he declared, stretching out the “e” sound, “Guess what I found!” he added in sing-song as he walked from the bedroom to the front door where Marti lay crammed against the wall.

Standing over his victim Caleb declared, “A great big bed where the two of us can get to know each other! Isn’t that great?” he asked, reaching down and grabbing her by an ankle.

Marti, with feet bound and arms and legs tied together behind her back, had little room to respond but she used what little slack the rope afforded to flail impotently away.

“Why, Marti,” Caleb declared, a lopsided grin filling his face, “I’d almost think that you don’t want to play. That can’t be right, can it?”

“You leave that poor woman alone!” Mrs. McNutt demanded from her confined position. “I called you an animal before and I was right! Animal!” she screamed.

Caleb looked toward the old woman and grinned wider. “Oh, come on Mrs. Mic N, don’t get yourself in a lather. I been watching good ole Marti Pants for days and I can absolutely assure you I ain’t gonna do anything to her she don’t deserve. Biggest bitch I ever met, despite her temptress exterior. I’m just gonna give her a little bit of her own, that’s all.

“Ain’t I, Hot Mama?” Caleb added, grinning down at Marti.

“No, Daddy!” Skylar demanded, making the chair to which she was bound hop up and down. “No! Stop it.”

“Oh, Skylar, I’m sorry. It’s part of Elohim’s plan. The righteous shall bring His judgement to bear on the unrighteous. Me an Marti here got us a date an were gonna have us a real heart to heart,” Caleb declared before lowering his voice and adding, “As well as a few other body parts ta other body parts, if’n ya knows what I mean, Hot Mama.”

Returning his voice to conversational levels he declared, “Don’t fret, child. It’ll all make sense once we strip your heart of Lucifer’s lies. Give me five minutes; I’ll be right back,” he said, dragging Marti into the bedroom as his daughter and Mrs. McNutt yelled for him to stop.

Once in the bedroom Caleb bent at the knees and hoisted Marti to the top of the old double bed, dropping her unceremoniously on the weathered, white, frayed bedspread. “Why look, Marti,” he said, removing the knife from its sheath and laying it on the bed before bending low to get to her ear. “the bedspread’s white, like a bride’s dress! Ain’t that sweet?” he added, pulling her tight top down and cupping her left breast.

Marti’s eyes flared in anger as she flailed her head left and right, screaming as best she could, but the duct-tape kept her volume low and her articulation unintelligible.

“You like that don’t cha?” Caleb asked, picking up the knife and pressing the blade against Marti’s nipple. “My what big knockers you have,” Caleb continued in a big-bad-wolf voice, “Is that all the better to bring men to sin with, bitch?” he asked with a laugh, pinching her nipple between his thumb and the knife blade until it pinked with a spot of blood.

Marti flinched in pain, a guttural sound escaping her throat as Caleb, licking the blood from her breast asked, “Same doctor who gave you that little WASP nose give you them bodacious boobies? What was his name? Doctor Nosenstein or Doctor Boobelah? Either way, God knows you got ‘em the old-fashioned way; on your back.

“Speaking a back, I’m gonna leave you be fer a bit. Gotta check on Mrs. McN and Skylar. Now you wait here, you hear?” he asked with a laugh as he closed the bedroom door behind him.

Marti stared at the knife Caleb had left lying on the bed, trying frantically to free herself.

 

Vanishing Point: Eighty-six of 101

Tags

"ATTENTION: WARNING! Grossly coarse language", Black Lake Road, Caleb Ezra Morse, Elohim's Army, Florida, Marti Khonen, Marti Kohnen, Skylar Kisor, State Road Fifty-four, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Grossly coarse language.

PART EIGHTY-SIX

Caleb put a steadying hand on Skylar’s shoulder as they wound their way through the underbrush that covered the spongy ground adjacent to Mrs. McNutt’s property. In addition to duct taping Skylar’s mouth shut, Caleb had loosely bound her hands behind her back, and the last thing Caleb wanted was for his precious daughter to fall and injure herself as they retraced their steps in the black swamp.

Ideally, Caleb would have brought Skylar to one of his Elohim’s Army compatriots where she could be properly brought into the fold but, as warriors had noted since Abraham and his three-hundred-eighteen fought the armies of Shinar, warriors go to war with the army that they have, not with the army that they wished they had.

There was no time to introduce Skylar to God’s truth via a slow, inch by inch, gradual sanctification into His holy waters. No, tonight Skylar was going to be fully immersed in righteousness and baptized with the blood of justice.

Skylar stumbled a bit and Caleb, hand already loosely encircling her arm just below the armpit, gripped more firmly to prevent her from falling. “Easy there, sugar,” he whispered in her ear. “We’re almost there.”

The van wasn’t far and Caleb, knife in hand and hands at the ready should his guest somehow be lying in wait for him, slid the rear door open quickly. No street lights adorned either Black Lake Road nor hundred feet distant State Road Fifty-four, so Marti was more of a darker black patch within the van’s unlit black interior than an easily discernable human entity.

“Yo, yo, yo!” Caleb said to Marti as he opened the door. “I told you we’d be back! Did you miss us?” he asked, tapping the base of her neck with his knife handle, “Cuz it’s party-time!”

Marti emitted a stunned groan from the sharp pain of Caleb’s quick, hard rap and Caleb smiled in satisfaction. “That’s just the beginning, hook nose,” he whispered in Marti’s ear. “I got a real special night planned for the two of us.

“Come on, Skylar,” he said, turning his attention back to his daughter, and opening the van’s front passenger door, “we gotta get Miss Marti pants here up to your place. I bet she’s right anxious to see the inside a your house.”

State Road Fifty-four was busy, visible, and easily accessed via a short section of connecting Black Lake Road asphalt. With Caleb’s attention split between Skylar and Marti, the little girl made a quick dash out from the weedy niche where the van was parked and toward the six-lane. Caleb grabbed for his daughter’s wrist but caught nothing but a little bit of the girl’s skin under his nails as she valiantly tried to run from him in the dark.

Skylar managed five steps forward before snagging a fallen log and slamming into the wet, muddy ground. Caleb towered over her, his face portraying a mixture of anger and delight. “Girl, you are a fighter, ain’t cha? I like that about you!” he said sincerely, reaching down and grasping her by one arm and jerking his daughter skyward. “But you have got to learn to mind!” he said, pushing his face to within a fraction of an inch of hers.

Walking her back to the van he thrust her into the passenger seat, pointed a finger in her face and said, “Now. You stay right there. I’m gonna pull this van up to the house and then you and me’s gonna have a chat and then me and Miss Marti’s gonna have a little party. Got it?!” he demanded, slamming the door as he uttered his question.

Turning from the front of the van to the rear he added, “And now, little Miss bar code, you’re gonna get exactly what you’ve got coming.” Which he punctuated with another door slam.

Walking in front of the van, Caleb slid into the driver’s seat, turned the ignition key and, after pulling the column mounted gear shift into D, pushed his foot on the accelerator. Rather than lurching forward the van’s tires spun ferociously, and Caleb brought his hands to his face, covering his eyes with his palms and tightly squeezing the crown of his head and temples. “Fuck shit! God damned, mother fucking, son of a bitch!

“Fine,” he added calmly, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile to his face, “We’ll walk.” Stepping out of the van he returned to Skylar, grabbed her from the van, plunked her down on the ground and commanded, “Stay!” before opening the rear door, grabbing Marti, throwing her over his shoulder and declaring to Skylar, “Shut the god damned doors and come on. I’ve had enough of this shit.”

 

Vanishing Point: Eighty-four of 101

Tags

Derek Easton, Elohim's Army, Florida, Karla Kisor, Luis Madrigal, Manny Taisto, Officer Tierney Rosenstock, Paco Count Sherfiffs, Sara Kohnen, Sergeant Looney, Stacie Shannon, Suzann Layher, Trinity Florida, Trintiy Hospital

PART EIGHTY-FOUR

The women stood and shook hands with Manny, Suzann introducing him first to Stacie and then Karla.

“You’re the teacher, right?” he asked Stacie, shaking her hand briefly. “Suzann tells me that you’re the one who listened to Karla’s little girl- Skylar, right? -and brought all this to her and the school principal. That was good work. A lot of folks would a just ignored a third grader telling them that she just saw her dead daddy out on the playground.” He punctuated his, “Good job,” with a single index finger point at chest level before turning to Karla.

“Karla,” he said, holding the woman’s hand in his, narrowing his eyes to a slit and nodding four times before releasing it. “I’m sorry this bad hombre Caleb’s got your little girl. I got a little girl in third grade over at Lake Myrtle. Toughest thing in the world is worrying about your kid, even if she just goes missing for two minutes in the grocery store. You got that bottom dropping out of your insides feeling when you don’t know where they are. These guys are gonna find em. Period. End of report.

“I spoke to the responding officers, guy named Derek Easton and a kid named Luis Madrigal. Never worked with this Luis guy but Derek says he’s stand up. They’ll do right. They got detectives working on it too. I know it’s hard to believe but this is probably for the best. Sheriff’s department knows who has your daughter, what vehicle he’s driving and when he grabbed your Skylar and Sara’s mother. Marti, right?” he asked the last of Suzann.

“Yes,” Suzann replied, nodding minutely three times. “Marti Kohnen.”

“You talk to the officer who brought Sara in?” he asked, eyes going from Karla to Stacie and stopping at Suzann. “How she’s doing?”

“We don’t know,” Suzann replied. “We surprised her. Officer Rosenstock, I mean. We happened to arrive here just before she and the ambulance and we called out to Sara just as the EMTs were pulling her down from the ambulance. Officer Rosenstock wouldn’t even tell us if it was Sara on the gurney and stood between us and the poor child as they rolled her into the ER. By the time we got inside, Sara, the EMT’s and officer Rosenstock had all evaporated. Whoosh! I’m sure they rushed her to a secure area back in the bowels of the building.”

“Yeah, well, it sounds like she was doing her job. This officer Rosenstock, she kind of a petite thing with dark hair in a ponytail and hazel eyes? Probably, what? Mid-thirties?”

“I don’t know,” Suzann said with a scowl. “I suppose she was short but those hats you people wear make everyone seem half-a-foot taller. Probably mid-thirties,” she conceded, bobbling her head.

“Those people wear,” Manny replied with a laugh. “I’m a civilian, remember?

“Yeah, gotta be her. I didn’t work with her much; different station. She got the nice new one around the corner on Trinity Boulevard while I got the old one up Little in Central. Course, I could walk to court when need be, and she had to drive, so I guess there’s pluses and minuses. Seemed legit, but like I said, never much contact. Probably wouldn’t have noticed her if she wasn’t a woman. Just not that many female cops in County. Sounds like she was doing her job,” he said, tilting his head and furrowing his brow.

Manny screwed his mouth up and nodded a few times before continuing. “I’d already talked to Sergeant Looney on the phone and given him the info on Caleb and his Elohim’s Army connections. If Rosenstock knew that then she damn well should have been on the alert. And, no offense, Karla,” he added, showing her his tattooed right arm, “but you’re kinda flying the colors here, right? We know gang signs, you dig?”

Karla blushed visibly. “I was never an Elohim and I’ve learned that their hate is stupid and unchristian,” she said. “Don’t judge me.”

“Whoa, whoa, no, no,” Manny said with a laugh. “I’m not judging you! I’m explaining why Rosenstock would have gotten Sara Kohnen the hell out of the parking lot. Though it would be pretty odd for Elohim scum to show up with a Jamaican, wouldn’t it, Suzann?”

“I don’t know. I’m not familiar, but it certainly sounds like I am a bit too well done for their particular tastes. In any case, what do we do now?”

“Karla here needs to talk to the police,” Manny replied. “Either Officer Rosenstock or a detective. Probably both. Let me give you a number to call-”

“I did.” Karla answered curtly. “Stacie called nine-one-one after I talked to little Sara and the police were picking her up. We called nine-one-one to find out where they were taking her, but they wouldn’t tell us. The only reason we got here before you is because you sent that text to Suzann. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Wait,” Manny said, holding up a hand and shaking his head. “You called nine-one-one, told em who you are and what was going on and nobody connected you to the cops? That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, that’s what happened,” Karla replied.

“Yeah, yeah. No. That’s not what I meant by ridiculous. Did you give em your contact info? They get your name or just the ID from, uh, you said Stacie, right? From Stacie’s phone?”

“We gave them Karla’s full name and phone and the operator said he’d pass it on to responding officers,” Stacie replied.

“Okay. Responding officers probably means Easton and the Madrigal guy and they’re up to their eyebrows in it right now. Okay. So, we call the police directly. Hang on,” he said, grabbing his phone from his pocket.

Vanishing Point: Sixty-nine of 101

Tags

Craft Street, Elohim's Army, Florida, Karla Kisor, Manny Taisto, Stacie Shannon, Suzann Layher, Trinity Florida

PART SIXTY-NINE

“Karla?” Manny demanded, “Manny Taisto. Our friend Suzann tells me you’re in a hell of a lot of trouble. What’s up?”

“Uhm, hi, Manny. Yeah. A lot of trouble. I’m afraid for my little girl.”

“Yeah. Suzann mentioned that you may have a, what? That you slipped away with her, shall we say? What’s this about being afraid of your husband? Can’t we just call the cops?”

Karla looked at Suzann, head tilted to the side eyes brimming with tears, and turned her hands palm up as unspoken interrogative.

“Just tell him the truth,” Suzann said softly.

“It’s a really long story,” Karla replied, “but I, I took our daughter while Caleb was in prison. I’d a called the police but he’s part of this skinhead bunch a crazies called Elohim’s Army-”

“Whoa, wait. Your husband’s an Elohim warrior?”

Stacie and Suzann exchanged glances while Karla nodded to the phone. “Yes. Yes, he is. Has been for, oh, Lord, over seven years now.”

“Okay,” Manny said, “I can see how you might not want to call the cops. Pretty rough set of dudes. So, how do you know he’s after you?”

“Because he’s been following me ever since I left Birmingham. He’s tracked us down like, half-a-dozen times, but today he showed up at Skylar’s, that’s my daughter’s, school.”

“Suzann,” Manny asked, “so, like what? He comes into the office asking for his little girl?”

“No,” Stacie replied, “this is Stacie Shannon, by the way, I’m Skylar’s teacher. He showed up at the playground during recess. Karla has told us some very disturbing things concerning Caleb, including her fears that he’s murdered people in the past. We’re very concerned for Skylar.”

“Yeah. Sounds like you should be. Where’s Skylar now?”

“At a friend’s house,” Karla replied. “But I’m afraid he’ll find my house and steal her from there or school.”

“Okay. This sounds pretty damn serious, but what do you want me to do? I can help you with the cops, but we need to call them.”

Karla hesitated. “Do we have to tell them everything? Couldn’t we just, I don’t know, tell them there’s a known killer hanging around my daughter’s school? I’m about ready to go grab Skylar and run again so’s I’m far away from him.”

“Yeah?” Manny asked sarcastically, “how’s that working for you? You said he’s found you in the past, and them Elohim’s bastards don’t quit. They got skinheads all over working for them. We need to solve the problem, Karla, not run away from it. And the known killer bit? Convictions? Arrests? What?”

“No. Not for murder. Convicted of aggravated assault. He was in prison for that when I took- He was in prison for that when me an Skylar left Gadsden.”

“Gadsden?”

“Birmingham, Gadsden. Gadsden’s bout a hour northeast a Birmingham. He was in Birmingham prison when we left.”

“Aggravated, huh? That might be enough if I talk to the right people. When you say you know he murdered people, what’s that mean? He tell you?”

“Oh. No. But three times there was reports on the news about people getting beat to death and he’d left a Google search of the area on the computer. The exact area on the same day. Like he’d been doing street view? Same place, same day, three times. You gonna try’n tell me that’s coincidence?” Karla asked petulantly.

“Whoa, sister. Cool down. I ain’t doubting you, but if you want me to get some of my old Pasco pals involved I gotta give ‘em something. So, murder’s good. I just gotta give it to ‘em in a way that allows them to act. Give me your phone number and address. Where the hell are you, anyways? Lot of noise.”

“At a little place called Craft Street down at Little and Fifty-four,” Suzann said. “They make great Moscow Mules.”

“Good to hear it. Have one for me, I quit drinking when Sammi was born. Let me call my buddy. I’ll call you back.”

“Okay, Manny,” Suzann replied. “You’re a good man.”

“Yeah. Just don’t let it get out.”

“Thank you, Manny,” Karla said. “Thank you so much!”

Vanishing Point: Fifty-four of 101

Tags

Adam Harrison, Bishop Scudder, Craft Street, DHR, Elohim's Army, Florida, John Farmer, Karla Kisor, Loren, Stacie Shannon, Steven Tyler’s, Suzann Layher, Trinity Elementary, Trinity Florida, Tyler Hinnenkamp

PART FIFTY-FOUR

Loren returned with a smile, asking, “Change your mind? Get you some dinner?”

The women looked at one another and shook their heads. “No, thank you, Loren,” Suzann replied. “I think just refills, please.”

“Okay, great,” the server said. “Other West Coast, Moscow Mule and Yuengling, correct?”

“Correct,” Suzann replied.

“Wait!” Stacie said. “Change mine to unsweetened tea, please. I’m driving, and one pint of West Coast was plenty.”

“Iced tea,” Loren replied.

“No,” Karla objected, “I can’t drink more of your beer if you’re having tea. Change mine to tea, too please.”

Suzann scowled. “And leave me to drink alone? Tell me, do you want tea, or do you want beer? Because you are not driving, Stacie is.”

“Stacie?” Karla asked.

“Oh, for goodness sake! Please, have another if you’d like. If I wasn’t DD I’d join you. I’m just a light-weight and so I’m conscientious about how much I drink.”

Karla smiled and winked at Stacie before turning to Loren and saying, “Yuengling, please.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back.”

“She seems nice,” Karla said of the retreating Loren.

“Yes, she is,” Stacie replied, nodding. “She’s at Sean and Tyler’s a lot.”

“Steven Tyler’s,” Suzann corrected. “I’ve decided that your friends get to keep their names, but henceforth their digs are to be called Steven Tyler’s. And you’re both light-weights. What do you weigh, Karla? Ninety-nine pounds?

“You said that you took Skylar away from Gadsden while Caleb was in prison. Do you mind telling me why he was incarcerated?”

“One-oh-five. And which time!? He started with drug charges. Heroin. His daddy’s uncle or some such had a big ole local lawyer name a Wishnatsky’d already got him off on drug paraphernalia an possession with intent to distribute a couple times but the cops caught him with heroine. This Wishnatsky fella couldn’t get him off on that, but Caleb said he’d be out on parole seeing how as it was his first conviction. Well, ole Judge Wallace weren’t having none of it, and Caleb got a year. Not much, considering. I mean, weeds one thing, but heroin?

“So, he’s locked up in prison and Skylar’s getting big. Baby changes a lot in a year, you know? And Skylar ain’t the only one who changed a lot. He comes back changed. Real changed.

“Went from being a charming, abusive, manipulative asshole to a self-righteous, abusive, violent one. He’d smacked me before when he was drunk or high or whatever when I’d sass him, but it was different. He just turned goll-darn mean. Got to be pins and needles for me. Egg shells, you know?

“I don’t know if it was just prison or his Elohim’s Army crowd, because that’s where he fell in with them fine, fancy gentlemen. Some weaselly fella named Farmer got ‘em hooked up. He was tight with those boys from the get go and it only got worse. Local leader’s name was Bishop Scudder. I never did know if his mama named him Bishop or if that was some nickname. Anyway, meets up with this Scudder fella and next thing you know they’re thick as thieves.

“So, Caleb and Scudder and the Army are out at night doing God knows what. I know he’s selling drugs and he comes in with bloody clothes and bloody knuckles plenty a times. And then,” Karla emphasizes the ‘then’, “he brings heroine home. I tell him, ‘Nu-uh! Not in this house! We’re not having that around Skylar! You want DHR to take our baby?’ and I was scared, cuz I didn’t know how he’d respond, but it wasn’t too bad. I mean, he whacked me one for punctuation, but he didn’t bring it home no more. I mean, it ain’t like I was some saint. I’d smoke his weed, but heroine? No, ma’am!

“One thing I gotta admit though is that I never seen him raise a hand to Skylar. He’d tell her all this Elohim’s Army bull-shit but he never hit her. I think she was too young to even understand what he was saying but after that first time in prison he just turned plain mean ugly and itching to smash heads.”

The conversation stopped as a handsome, dark haired man returned with the drinks and picked up the empties. “Stacie,” he said, beaming at her before turning to Suzann. “Ma’am,” he asked, “Is your name Mrs. Layher?”

Suzann tilted her head and raised her eyebrows. “Yes?” she said replied, elongating her s. “Have I had the pleasure of meeting you before? Did you attend Lake Myrtle, perhaps?”

Tyler smiled and shook his head. “No, ma’am. I went to Mittye P. Locke Elementary. Tyler Hinnenkamp. But that man over there did,” He said, pointing at a blond man sitting at a far table with a small Hispanic woman who held a toddler in her lap. “He said his name’s Adam Harrison and if you’re Suzann Layher he’d like to but you a drink.”

“He is!? He did? How lovely. I am, yes please, and would you please let Adam know that I’ll come see him, okay?”

“Will do. You want the drink now, or shall I wait?”

“Oh, go ahead and bring it,” Suzann said with a laugh. “After all, Stacie is driving.”

“See ya, Tyler!” Stacie called after the retreating man.

“Did I say Sean was cute?” Karla asked. “Cuz that Tyler’s adorable. I’d watch out for him.”

 

Vanishing Point: Fifty-two of 101

Tags

"ATTENTION: WARNING! Coarse language", Caleb Ezra Morse, Community Drive, East Lake public library, El Pardo, Elohim's Army, Florida, Florida State Road 54, Garden Lakes Boulevard, Google Earth, Google Street View, Gunn Highway, Heritage Spring Community, Hot Mama, Interlachen Drive, Robert Trent Jones Parkway, Trinity Florida, Trinity Preserve

WARNING! Coarse language

PART FIFTY-TWO

“Risk and reward,” Caleb said to himself as he turned east on Florida State Road 54. “Risk and reward. Gotta balance how big of a risk to take with how big the reward is,” Caleb repeated, taking a long drag on his Marlboro before lowering the van’s window just enough to flick the butt to the side of the road. “I’m gonna find you, Hot Mama. I’m gonna. And, Lord, with your help, I’m gonna do it tonight.”

Caleb had learned that three routes led to Hot Mama’s lair tucked somewhere inside Trinity Preserve. The closest and most direct route to the Preserve was south on Community Drive from the Publix, the one he’d already used. The longest was from the west via Robert Trent Jones, and the third was coming from the east on Interlachen.

Having learned previously that Community and Interlachen Drives both led to the security gate just southwest of Interlachen Elementary, Caleb had hoped against hope that by entering from the west via Robert Trent Jones he might access Trinity Preserve without activating a security gate and its attendant cameras.

Longing for the treasure trove of information Google Earth and Google Street View could provide for reconnaissance, Caleb had driven south to the East Lake public library. Hoping to access the internet via an anonymous library computer hookup, Caleb had learned that in Florida access to a computer is blocked unless one has a library card. Angry at a system that denied him access to something readily available in other states, Caleb had stifled his anger in order to remain, as Bishop liked to remind him, inconspicuous.

Caleb was expert in gleaning information about locales via Google Earth and Google Street Views. He’d spent countless hours reviewing Google maps and then zooming down via satellite image and the three-hundred-sixty-degree ubiquitous view made possible by Google cameras.

Denied access at the library, Caleb had been tempted to use his phone, just as he would were he not on Elohim business. The temptation, though great, was quickly set behind him.

Bishop, via open-handed slaps and tongue lashing, had forever chiseled in Caleb’s brain the precept that Caleb was never to use his own phone to reconnoiter locations he and his fellow Army members would be visiting.

Catching him in the act, his brother at arms had demanded, “What in the name of holy fuck do you think you’re doing!? Why don’t you just call the fucking cops and say, ‘Hey! It’s us! Come get us!’ Never use your own phone on Army business. Use a library or paper map. Jesus, son! I thought you were smarter than that!”

The map book he’d picked up at the Shell station a few blocks south of the library showed Robert Trent Jones Parkway snaking east from where it intersected with Trinity Drive and Little Road. On the map there was no indication that a security gate blocked traffic just east of El Pardo, but entry into the fifty-five-and-older Heritage Spring community was, unsurprisingly, gate restricted from both the east and west on Robert Trent Jones as well as Garden Lakes Boulevard. Caleb had toyed with the idea of stealing a bicycle and exploring the golf cart lanes in search of access but decided that even if that could gain him entry, he’d be stuck at Hot Mama’s with no means for a speedy exit, a position he knew better than to put himself in.

Having already driven up and down Community drive twice the night before and east and west along Robert Trent to Heritage Spring’s security gate, Caleb was now heading east on Fifty-four in order to access Interlachen Drive via Gunn Highway. “Hot Mama,” he said with a smirk, “I’m a coming for you. Ready or not, here I cum!”

 

Vanishing Point: Fifty-one of 101

Tags

Audrey June, Caleb Ezra Morse, Elohim's Army, Karla Kisor, Murder, Pregnant And Fourteen, Race Mixing, Southside High School Gadsden Alabama, Stacie Shannon, Suzann Layher

PART FIFTY-ONE

Stacie sat wordlessly, mouth hanging agape. Suzann, turning in the booth to face Karla, took her hands and placed them on the young mother’s right forearm. “Karla,” she said softly and gently, “if your husband has killed someone and he’s here to kill you we must call the police. If not for your sake, then for Skylar’s.”

Stacie saw Karla’s eyes close as tightly as possible in the split second it took her hands to fly from the table to her face. Karla emitted a wordless sound of terror and grief before taking a jagged, broken gulp of air. Bringing her hands from her face, she reached over with her left hand to pat Suzann’s right as it rested on her forearm, grabbed her water glass and took a long drink before inhaling deeply twice more and answering, “And lose my baby? Because that’s what’ll happen, won’t it? I took Skylar from her Daddy. He’s a Morse. A Gadsden Morse?

“You just don’t get it. The Morses are a very powerful clan in Gadsden. If I didn’t run, then Skylar’d be ruined, and if I go to the police, she’ll wind up with her grandparents, and they’re the ones who created Caleb in the first place. The man is sick and evil. Is that what you want for Skylar?”

“If Caleb killed someone then the police can help!” Stacie declared.

“Some one?! No, no. Not someone, some many!” Karla cried. “I know he did, I know he did, I know he did. He was twisted when I met him; charming but twisted, and then he got more and more twisted once he started running with those Elohim folks.”

Suzann moved her hands from Karla’s forearm to the young woman’s shoulder. “Breathe, darling. Breathe. We can help. We can. But if your husband has killed people then the police can lock him away. You can be safe and stop running.”

Karla shook her head hard, first left and then right. “Mm-mm! You can’t turn in one of Elohim’s Army’s top soldiers and get off scot-free. You just can’t,” she moaned, voice filled with defeat. “That’s why I ran when I got the chance; while Caleb was in prison for the, I own’t know, sixth time? Because when it comes to them Elohim folk the only way out is death or disappearance and I refused to have my little girl around a man like that. Men like that! And women too!

“Oh, Miss Suzann, if Elohim’s boys just saw us sitting here together I own’t know what they’d do. Not because they’re hunting me. Oh, no! Because we’re race-mixing! Race-mixing! And to think I once believed all that crap.”

Despite herself, Suzann’s hands momentarily came off Karla’s shoulder before she placed a false smile on her face and put her left arm around the diminutive blonde. “Okay, okay. Okay. Breathe. And talk. Don’t worry about what we’re going to do. Don’t worry about running or hiding or whether Caleb Ezra Morse is close by or far away. Just tell us what you know.”

“Tell you what I know? What I know could take days. Let’s just hit the highlights, shall we?” Karla asked.

“Do you know when I met Caleb?”

“No,” Suzann replied. “When?”

“Homecoming dance, freshman year at Southside High School Gadsden, Alabama. I was there with a nice boy named Duncan. His mama drove us to the dance because he was a tenth grader and didn’t have no driver’s license. We’re there, having a good time. My first high school dance and all, you know? I’m feeling like a princess, dancing with Duncan and then, wham! I forget all about poor Duncan. Know why?”

Suzann and Stacie both shake their heads.

“Because this gorgeous man walks in with this vision from heaven on his arm.

“I have never met Caleb Ezra Morse, but I have heard of him. Captain of the football team, all around jock and heart melter. I’d watched him play when I’d go to games with my family. Lord, Daddy loved Southside football! Anyway, in walks this man, he’d graduated the year before and if you don’t think a nineteen-year-old-boy looks like heaven to a fourteen-year-old inexperienced Southern girl then you need to rethink.

“Night goes on, my friend Audrey June comes over with her date and asks do we want to meet Caleb, the returning Homecoming football star?

“Do I? It’s everything I can do not to leave poor Duncan standing there and run. Next thing I know I’m meeting him and he is charming with a capital C!

“Looking back, I feel terrible about the way I treated Duncan, but that’s neither here nor there. Anyhow, fore the night is over he comes up and asks for my number.

“Me! Little Miss Karla Kisor, nobody freshman has this big ole dog sniffing round. Could he have it? I wanted to tattoo it on his arm! I give it to him and he puts it in his cellphone. His cellphone! Kisor parents did not give their children cellphones so even that was all cool and grownup!

He calls me the next day and asks if I’d like to go out with him. As if he didn’t know the answer. Dinner and a movie! Big spender. But then he want’s payment, something I haven’t experienced before. And by payment I’m not talking no hand job in the back of the car. He wants me. I tell him no. He tells me yes. I say take me home. He says soon as we’re done.

“Prince Charming rapes me. First time, first date, bam! And it gets better. It gets way better. It gets better when I find out I’m pregnant. Pregnant and fourteen. Ain’t that a MTV show?”

Vanishing Point: Forty-two of 101

Tags

"ATTENTION: WARNING! Coarse language- graphic sexual violence", Bishop Scudder, Caleb Ezra Morse, Elohim's Army, Florida, Pasco County Florida, Trinity Florida

WARNING! Coarse language- graphic sexual violence.

PART FORTY-TWO

Truth be told, the hunt was the thing.

The important, holy work Caleb performed in His service, the feeling of pure fraternity he and his brothers-at-arms in Elohim’s Army shared as they did battle with perverts and mixed-race mongrels, the unspeakable, sexual joy he found during his fuck, torture, kill sessions he and Bishop competed in as they removed the demon-spawn that were their leading-good-men-into-temptation-whore victims, the (dare he even think it?) sexual bond he felt with Bishop Scudder as they wrestled in an, “Oh, yeah? Watch this!” display of innovative degradation and agonization of their traumatized, tormented and hog-tied lumps of fleshly tantalization that they removed from circulation, all of these were wondrous, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping moments of holy joy, but it was the slow, methodical, I see you, but you don’t see me hunt that was Caleb’s greatest pleasure. “‘The devil,’” Caleb said, emphasizing the word ‘devil,’ “‘is in the details.’”

Caleb had two conflicting schools of thought and two conflicting goals.

School of thought number one was that cover of night allowed him to better go unseen. Sure, there were security cameras everywhere, but most of them were not sophisticated and worked poorly in low light. The dome light in Caleb’s van had been turned off long ago and the just-shy-of dark-as-the-law allowed sun-film covering the van’s windows made casual detection of his face difficult in daylight and practically impossible at night.

Climbing in his van, Caleb grabbed his smokes from the center console and said a quick prayer of thanks for the advice, Trevor, his Elohim’s Army comrade, had given him.  “Don’t go dark as you can. You go too dark and you give the cops opportunity to pull you over,” Trevor had told him. “They’ll pull you over and tell you they’re just confirming that your car’s in code. ‘Code.’ Yeah. That’s their code for, ‘We got you by the balls, boy.’ Don’t give ’em the opportunity.”

Caleb knew that, “Probable Cause” was an awfully broad bludgeon and Caleb knew how to flirt with, and thereby skirt, probable cause. By avoiding certain actions Caleb didn’t give the po-po an opportunity to pull him over and demand his license and registration.

Staying low and unseen was one school of thought in the surveillance game. The other was to hide a needle in a pile of needles. A needle in a haystack is hard to find, but one particular needle in a pile of needles makes the needle nearly invisible.

Caleb knew that out on a highway driving during busy times was the best way to avoid detection. He knew that traveling at the speed limit qualified as probable cause, (Ain’t that horseshit!) and that swinging wide at turns was an open invitation to be pulled over by the rare cop that didn’t have his head up his ass.

Caleb knew, and Caleb practiced, the fine art of flying under the radar, but neighborhoods were different than highways. Folks in a neighborhood knew each other and strange vehicles caught the eye of nosy trouble makers. The nice-but-not-too-nice gated communities around Interlachen made daylight incursions untenable. Reconnoitering or invading during peak, daylight hours presented risks that Caleb knew he should avoid.

He knew that, but he also knew that the two conflicting schools had to be balanced with his two conflicting goals; the goals of secrecy and immediacy. Caleb wanted to find, fuck, torture and kill Hot Mama now. Not soon, not tomorrow, not next week; today. He wanted her, and he wanted her little spawn, and while waiting was delicious, Caleb was hungry, horny and feeling guilty.

Hot Mama deserved what he was going to give her- Caleb had no doubt about that! -but every moment spent hunting, punishing and disposing of the little JAP was time away from his primary mission, the mission that had brought him to Pasco County in the first place.

Caleb’s mission, God’s mission, was to find his unfaithful, race-traitor, ungrateful bitch of a wife and extract from her all information about his daughter’s death. Once that was accomplished he would end her. He would end her in ways that he’d only touched on in the past. “I bet whatever big-brain said, ‘The past is but a prologue,’ sure as fuck wasn’t thinking about what I got in store for you, Karla. I’m looking forward to our reunion, sweetie. I’m looking mighty forward to it,” he declared as he put his van in drive and set out on the hunt.