to 319, the man shouldn’t have been out there anyway.”
“319 to dispatch, yes, sir. 319 and 827 and 828 will clean up the site, dispose of human remains in the Elwha River. What of the trailer, dispatch?”
“Dispatch to 319, leave the trailer. It won’t be the first trailer abandoned by the edge of a river. Over.”
“319 to dispatch, will follow through with orders. Over.”
A fourth white sheriff’s truck pulled into the opening by the river. A rustic, older sheriff stepped out of the car. Sergeant Mitchell had seen his fair share of action in the field during his tenure as sheriff of Clallam County for the past thirty-two years. His beard hung down his chin, touching the Kevlar chest protector he wore under his light tan-colored uniform. His belly hung over the front of his belt as if he enjoyed a beer each night for those past thirty-two years too.
“You boys clean this fucking mess up. No traces,” said Sheriff Mitchell.
“But, sir, this doesn’t seem right. There was obviously a human life lost here,” replied Deputy Fox.
“Do you see a fucking body?”
“No, sir. But there’s a human arm and a human hand inside the trailer. Looks as if they were appendages violently ripped off the caller’s body too.”
“Forget that shit. You boys didn’t see shit out here. Clean the damn mess up, and like I said, no traces of anything human. Last thing I want around this goddamn town is a group of crazed asshole hunters, claiming themselves to be fucking Sasquatch scientists, like this fucking fruit loop. The dipshit shouldn’t even have been up here in the first place.”
Sergeant Mitchell spat his wad of chewing tobacco onto the ground, reaching into his back pocket, and grabbed his chew cup to get more. Sergeant Mitchell opened the cup, took a dip out, and stuffed a fresh wad of chewing tobacco between his brown-colored teeth and bottom lip.
“Now then. Clean the fucking mess. There was no sign of anything here. The call. The call was a fucking prank. We get them all the time. Drunk dumbass college kids coming up here to drink and smoke jayne, and fuck. Nothing more than that. Move, men.”
“What about the human remains?”
“Toss that shit into the river. No one will know either way. Now move your asses and clean this shit up!”
With that, the deputies followed the orders of their superior and began to clean up the campsite. Sergeant Mitchell got back into his patrol truck, backed up, and drove out of the clearing and back up the dirt trail, leaving the deputies to clean up the scene. The deputies picked up garbage and small pieces of what was left of the trailer. Deputies also cleaned up what they presumed was all that was left of Craig, tossing pieces of his body into the Elwha River as they were ordered to do—a grim demise to the biology professor from South Puget Sound Community College. After the deputies finished cleaning up the campsite, they abandoned the trailer and went back to their squad cars. Here Deputy Fox wrote in his report that upon responding to the scene they observed an old abandoned trailer that appeared to have been left along the riverbank for years, no campsite, and no Craig Irving. Craig was now officially a missing person with the Clallam County Sheriff’s Department—one of many that were reported missing around the Olympic Highway 101, Port Angeles suburbs, and the small town of Elwha, Washington. When he finished his report and reluctantly submitted it to the station by his squad truck computer, Deputy Fox started his patrol truck and drove out, followed by the other two deputies. The urgent 911 phone call that was made to the dispatch, considered as a screened-out report, only made by a drunken fool or someone who had taken too much recreational drugs in the evening and was playing a prank on the sheriff’s department.
This was the last time anyone had ever heard from Dr. Craig Irving—family, friend, or colleague. He was reported as a missing person from the Clallam County Sheriff’s Office.
Chapter 2
Mr. and Mrs. Carter
“Honey, have you seen my red-and-blue striped tie? The one that goes along with this shirt?” asked Matt.
“Isn’t it hanging up in the closet on your tie rack by the wall?” replied Christina.
“No. I can’t find it anywhere.”
“When did you wear it last?”
“Friday of last week. I remember I got home around 6:00 p.m., we had date night, we came back home.”
Matt walked to the back of the bed and found his red-and-blue striped tie tied to the bed post.
“I wonder what you used that for.” smirked his wife, Christina.
“Shut up,” said Matt, smiling back with a sheepish grin on his face.
“So what are your plans for today at work?” asked Christina.
“Just survive another day here in the city, Chris. There is just something about living here that I don’t enjoy. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to be in the city, have certain amenities available when I need them. I don’t know though, Chris. Maybe someday we can finally get that log cabin you and I have been talking about for the longest time.”
“Yeah, wouldn’t that be the American dream right there,” said Christina, brushing her hair with a hair comb in the bathroom.
“What are you up to today?” asked Matt.
“Well, I have a meeting this morning with the accounting department and Mr. Klemme. The older one. Then followed by a luncheon with a new company that we’re trying to convince to come to our accounting agency to let us do their accounting and payroll for them. After that just paperwork this afternoon. Try and get caught up, even though that’s almost always impossible.”
“Oh nice, who is the company you’re having the lunch with?”
“It’s a smaller company here in Olympia. I thought I heard it’s called Star something.”
“Starbucks?”
“No, I would remember that. I can’t remember. I think it’s Star Wear something. I know they specialize in fancy cutlery and silverware. They ship all around the world, so for a smaller business they’ve really done good for themselves.”
“Well, good luck in getting their services. Hope everything works out for you.”
Matt Carter left the bathroom after he finished tying his necktie, while Christina started to brush her teeth at the sink. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he made a pot of coffee for himself and Christina. Matt would always make a little extra coffee to take with him to work in the mornings. Matt grabbed a thermos from the cupboard while the coffee was brewing still. Once the coffee had finished brewing Matt poured some from the pot into his thermos and then poured some coffee into a mug and sat at the table for a brief moment to relax and enjoy the morning. A realtor magazine was lying on the table, near the centerpiece, and Matt grabbed it. Opening the magazine Matt began to look through properties in the suburbs of Olympia—South Capitol, Cain Road, East Bay Drive, Lakemoor, as well as cabin homes in the nearby Olympic mountains. Matt and his wife had lived in downtown Olympia for the past few years. But over the years, Matt grew tired of living in the large city of Olympia, the capital of Washington
