Alteer jumped from the cruiser after he had stopped and ran to the van.
“Did you see the cop cruiser headed west?” he asked excitedly.
“Yeh, I saw him go under the overpass…man that was a good move getting off at this exit.”
“Yeh, but we gotta ditch this cruiser and that body!”
“Sure!”
“Look, US 42 is about three miles down this road and the Ohio River bank runs along 42…right off the road no more than five feet. We can find a spot high enough and push the cruiser and its pay load into the river.”
“That’s a plan dude."
They drove out of the NASCAR parking lot and headed north on State road 35 with the cruiser leading the way in the darkness. In a matter of minutes, they reached a perpendicular stop headed west to Warsaw or north toward Cincinnati. Mike took a left heading toward Warsaw. After driving a mile, it was now one o’clock and he knew in another six hours the sky would be filled with choppers. On the right of the highway there was a huge Sycamore, with graying shadows growing out of the riverbank and alongside there was a flat spot from which he could see the Markland Lock and Dam over his right shoulder. He pulled the cruiser off the highway and onto the shoulder…the van nudged in behind him. There was no rail separating the highway from the river, just a bushy trail along its bank beside the Sycamore which bore large gashes from being struck over the years by errant or drunk drivers. The river bank dropped off precipitously…as well as fortuitously into the Ohio some eight to ten feet below. It was a “moody river,” as the song goes and in the night with no moon it appeared black, rolling and cold as a freezer. Mike cut the lights and ran to the van. Frank, the van driver followed suit, opening the side door as the horse watched the activity in earnest. He was huge and beautiful under the globe which shown on his shinny coat…but his nostrils were flared and he grabbed a mouth full of hay.
“The cop is gone?” shouted Frank.
“Where could he have gone? Maybe he is alive?”
“Look the guy was dead, I shot him twice…pitta, pitta, bang, bang.” He held out his fingers like a gun.
“But he isn’t here,” Mike yelled.
“Wait, don’t get excited on me…there he is under the horse’s hay rack.”
Frank ran back to the van’s cab and grabbed a flashlight, returning in seconds and flipped the light on the big liver colored chestnut. The stallion was cool and pure class, nickering to let them know that he was the man…his eyes flashed, large and black as the river flowing beneath them.
Under the stallion, Officer Knower had either pulled himself somehow or the horse pulled him from the position by the side door.
“Get in there dude?”
“Fuck you, I ain’t getting anywhere near that big pricks’ hooves…that is way beyond my pay grade.”
“All right, lets’ not freak out…I’ll get in there! Now, look, the stallion can’t move because he has a shank attached on both sides of his halter and that chain is welded to both sides of the van…the chain holds his head, he can’t go anywhere or bite me. But he can stomp me or kick the shit out of me once I am in his space, so you are going to have to keep him calm…you savvy?”
“Yeh…fucking blind leading the blind!”
They both climbed into the van which had been set-up as three stalls giving
Hunter’s Destiny the largest stall for his big body. Mike thought it looked like one giant stall but it was separated at the top by large, heavy, long iron poles which fitted between the stalls giving definitive separation in the event there was a need to place other horses in the van. As he walked to the webbing which separated Mike from the horse, Hunter’s Destiny half reared, pawing the night’s darkness.
Mike jumped back to avoid the horse’s hooves with the silver plates as Frank made his way alongside the horse. He found a door under the horse’s head and opened it permitting him to pull Officer Knower’s dead body out from under the horse’s head.
“Don’t let him see that you are afraid of him…be calm, Mike!”
“Fuck you dude, that big bastard just showed me a row of teeth that looked like Moby Dick!”
“Talk quietly to him, offer him a hand-full of hay…just give me a second and it will be done.”
Mike feeling a bit overwhelmed and something of a whinny who could not seem to do anything right, jammed his hand into his pocket and felt a pepper mint candy…” you have been owned, big fella!” he said to the horse as he reached out with the mint on his upturned palm. Hunter’s Destiny sniffed it and with his large upper lip scooped it into his mouth…now he settled back as did Mile.
“Whoa there big guy…I once saw you race over at Arlington Park, it was a big race” Mike kept talking trying to calm the horse, he patted his forehead and jaw…the horse was sweating and Mike knew this wasn’t a good sign, knowing he had to calm him down he offered another pepper mint and Hunter’s Destiny gladly took it.
“You were great that day, just played with them horses and when they came to you at the eight pole, you just showed them your big ass…yeh, see we can be friends…I am a big fan of yours…” Mike offered another mint and the horse took it.
Frank Albright pulled Officer Knower from the corner of the stall. He was dead for certain and that was the bad news. The blood from the gun shot entry had tried on the starched collar of the shirt.
He called to Mike, busy with the horse, asking him to remove the jacket of the deceased police officer. Mike felt strangely ill…as he pulled the jacket off he thought that it would never warm the officer again. Dear God, he thought, what have I done…please forgive me.
“Mike…come on…quick help me…take his hands…we’ll get him in the cruiser trunk.”
Officer Knower was a big man, probably weighed in at three hundred pounds dead. The two men struggled but final got him to the rear of the cruiser, near the trunk. Mike went to the glove compartment and popped the trunk lid. He then returned to help Frank lift the body into the trunk, and then Mike dropped the blood stained jacket over the body, as though it might once again warm it. Frank closed the trunk lid.
Next, Frank went to the driver’s side, started the car and lowered the window. He placed the car in drive, it moved forward and off the shoulder, dropping into the swiftly moving black water of the Ohio. The river was high from the winter’s rain and snow…it was swift running and soon the car sank and was carried into the darkness of the water…and the body mattered no more to any of them…the soul had long departed.
Frank ran back to the van. “Get in,” he yelled at Mike who seemed to be in a daze and hesitated as though he could not remember where he was.
“You got no shot out here alone, Mike.”
Mike jumped into the van as Frank pulled away from the shoulder of the road near the river and the place where the car had been swallowed.
“What a fuck-up!” Mike said.
“Yeh
