Hunting a Killer

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Buck was almost finished with his shift at the bar and had done his periodic walk-through to make certain everyone was behaving. It was a relatively slow night, being a Wednesday, so there were no problems he had to deal with. Returning to his stool by the front entrance, he watched the late-night denizens of the city heading home or on to wherever they were going. He waved to a couple of homeless guys who were regulars in the area, glad as always that he wasn’t one of them. His might not be the most exciting or up-scale job, but at least it kept him in food and a place to stay and gave him cash when he wanted to take in a movie or put gas in his car so he could get out of town on his days off.

The bartender had just announced last call, when two obviously inebriated guys tried to enter the bar. Buck politely but firmly told them they were too late, much to their disgust. They argued with him, finally getting the fact he wasn’t going to let them in and took off. He was about to tell another man the same thing when he realized, much to his surprise, that it was Mika.

“Going to order a beer and stare at it,” Buck teased. “If so, you’re too late. We’re about to close.”

Mika shook his head. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured maybe if I took a walk…” He swallowed hard. “Okay, not quite the truth. I was wide awake, tossing and turning, and I remembered what you said, and you’re the only person who has even seemed to give a damn even if you don’t know me, and…”

“You need to get everything out before it breaks you.”

“Yeah. I know it’s asking a lot, and it’s late, and you probably want to get home…”

Buck chuckled. “Do you ever finish a sentence?”

For a second, a smile flashed over Mika’s lips. “Apparently not tonight.”

“Come on inside. I have closing chores, and then we can go get some coffee?” He looked at Mika in question.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Mika settled at a table by the door while Buck did what he needed to so he could leave. When he finished, he suggested they head to an all-night diner two blocks from the bar. He was certain going there was a good idea, even though he wasn’t sure why he’d offered. All he knew was that this man he didn’t really know, except very casually, if that, was hurting and needed someone to listen to him.

They found a vacant table in one corner of the diner and ordered coffee.

“Go ahead and eat, if you’re hungry,” Mika said.

“Naw, I’m good.” Buck waited for the coffee to arrive before saying, “When you said your brother was killed—”

“Murdered,” Mika interjected.

“Okay, murdered. You implied your mother was, too. How?”

“Do you honestly want to know, or are you doing some Good Samaritan thing because you feel sorry for me?”

Buck immediately decided honesty would be better than hedging. “It’s obvious you’re suffering. I have the feeling you haven’t talked to anyone about what happened. Or more, you’ve talked to the police and perhaps relatives, maybe a friend or people you work with, but you haven’t let it all out. Because of that, it’s eating a hole in you.” He tapped his chest. “Here, and probably in your head, too, if that makes any kind of sense.”

Mika nodded. “It does. The cops think it was a home invasion. My uncle?” He shrugged. “He probably agrees with them, though he never said. He’s the only relative I’ve got left, now.”

“No father? Okay, dumb question. You just said you’ve only got your uncle. Is he here in town?”

“No. He flew in after hearing about the murders, took over the funeral and burial arrangements because I’m too young—” he rolled his eyes, “—hired some lawyer to handle everything else, and left. He never was close to us when my father was alive and after he died, Elias, that’s my uncle, got Mom to agree to move here and then pretty much walked away.” Mika grimaced. “He’s good at that.”

“Off topic, sort of, but how old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Hell, that’s not too young.”

“Tell that to Elias. Anyway, no, I didn’t open up to him, given his attitude. The guys I work with sympathized with me about what happened, but that’s it.”

Buck took a drink of coffee, studying Mika. “You sound as if you don’t believe it was a home invasion, or a break-in, or whatever.”

“We live…lived in a lower middle-class neighborhood. If you were looking for a place to rob, would you choose a small house in an area of small houses where it was pretty obvious the people were struggling to make ends meet?”

Buck chuckled. “I wouldn’t, but then I’m not a burglar, even a stupid one.” He paused before asking, “How were they killed? Shot, like they surprised the guys?”

“Shot, yeah, but not until after they…” Mika took a deep breath. “It looked like they tortured Reko and Mom, first. They were slashed with a knife, or knives. Cut…” He shuddered, closing his eyes, saying, “I walked in on the scene. There was so much blood.”

“Damn. No wonder you’re so, well upset doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“It doesn’t. The detective, his name is Windom, suggested the killers tortured them, trying to find out where they kept any valuables.” Mika’s mouth tightened. “As if there were any. All of us worked, because we had to, to pay the mortgage and keep food on the table.”

“If it wasn’t a burglary or home invasion, then why were they killed?”

“I don’t know! It’s not like we had any enemies. We’ve only lived here for a couple of years. How could we have made enemies?”

“What did your brother do?”

“He worked for a janitorial service. Mom worked part time as a cashier at one of the big-box stores.”

“Definitely not the kind of jobs that bring in the big money.”

Mika snorted. “No kidding.”

“What about your father, before he died?”

“Whew. Okay, this is going to be hard to explain so it makes sense to you.” Mika smiled wryly. “It never did to Uncle Elias.”

“Try me,” Buck said when Mika went quiet.

“All right. Soon after they married, my folks began living off the grid. You know what that means?”

“Yeah. You are totally self-sufficient. You don’t use any public utilities, especially electricity. As I understand it, you hunt and fish for your food and raise your own vegetables.”

“Exactly. Dad owned a small piece of property in the mountains. He and Mom, and some of his friends, spent the first six months of their marriage building a house into the mountain slope. I mean, in it. All you could see of it from outside was the front wall and about six feet of side walls, with a roof composed of solar panels for heating and power. By the time Reko was born, it was two stories, the second one fully underground. I won’t bore you with the rest of the details about it. Anyway, I came along two years later. By then they had only minimal contact with the outside world.” He smiled to himself. “It was a wonderful life, as far as we were concerned.”

“You never left there, all the time you were growing up?”

“We did. Dad had an older truck and once a month we’d come down to the city to stock up on necessities we couldn’t make ourselves, like toilet paper, some clothes, boots, books. Upkeep on the truck was how I learned about cars and repairing them, since we did it all ourselves.”

“Makes sense. Books?”

“Oh yeah,” Mika replied. “As soon as we were old enough, Mom spent every weekday morning home-schooling us while Dad did repairs or made new furniture, cleaned the cistern, and the bathroom, which was basically a fancy indoor privy. He hated the bathroom part, but it was necessary, of course. In the afternoons, he and Reko would hunt and fish while Mom and I tended the garden and made the meals.”

“Even in winter?”

“Yep. We had a sort of greenhouse set up for growing things like potatoes and other root vegetables. By the time spring came we were good and tired of them, but it was what it was.”

“Didn’t you get bothered by hikers and hunters?”

“Occasionally. All Dad had to do was walk outside with his shotgun cradled in his arms and they’d hightail it. He was a big man, and with his full beard, damned fearsome looking.”

Buck chuckled. “Dressed in deerskin pants and a fringed leather jacket?”

“Actually, yes. We didn’t let anything go to waste. Mom made quilts from rabbit pelts. It used to piss her off that there was nothing she could do with the fish other than eat the meat.”

Buck grimaced. “Yeah, I don’t think the skins would make good clothes. They’d be real smelly, to start with.” He was glad when Mika laughed, although it was a brief one.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I,” Mika said at that point. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I think it’s helping you to get things out there. I bet I’m about the only person you’ve told about what it was like growing up.”

“Yeah.” Mika sighed. “The people I know, now that we’re…” He bit his lip. “Now that I’m living here, are the guys I work with and occasionally someone I date, which isn’t that often.”

“At least you do. Even if it’s only a couple of times, you’re out and about, not going from home to work and back home again.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

A flash of pain in Mika’s expression made Buck wonder if he’d had some bad experiences with dating but he wasn’t going to pry. The fact that Mika was opening up to him at all was a small miracle, he figured. Don’t push or that will stop.

Mika picked up his cup, set it down again without drinking, and said, “It’s late. I should let you go.”

“I work nights,” Buck replied with a smile. “I’m used to these hours. You, on the other hand need to get some sleep so you can face your job in the morning.”

“I’m off tomorrow…today now, I guess. I can sleep in. Well, a little. I have to go by the house to get whatever I’m going to keep because the people the lawyer hired are supposed to be there in the afternoon to start clearing things out so it can be put on the market.”

“I hope you have lots of boxes and a van for the furniture.”

“No furniture. Where would I put it, even if I wanted it? I’m living in a motel right now. That’s the other thing I have to do, this afternoon. Find a cheap apartment.”

Buck considered offering to help and telling him there were a couple of vacant apartments in his building. He didn’t because he was afraid Mika might take it the wrong way. They barely knew each other and for all he knew this could be the first and last time Mika wanted to be around him. When he thinks about it, he may regret opening up to me as much as he has.

“Thank you for listening,” Mika said, getting to his feet.

“You’re welcome. You know where to find me if you need an ear to bend again, or a shoulder.”

“To cry on?” Mika’s lips pressed together momentarily. “I’ve already done the crying. Now I have to face whatever comes next.”

“Getting moved?” Buck asked as he stood as well.

Mika nodded. “That and find out why…” He shook his head, starting toward the door.

As Buck followed him, he wondered what Mika wanted to find out. He had a feeling he knew. “Leave that for the police. It’s what they do best.”

Mika turned to look at him. “I know. I will.”

Buck didn’t believe him, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. When they were outside the diner, Mika thanked him again for listening and then they parted, Buck going back to where he parked, Mika heading in the other direction.

* * * *

He’s a nice guy. I almost feel guilty, making him listen while I babbled on about…everything. Still, he was right. Talking did help. It would be great if Buck is right about the police, too, but I don’t think he is. They’re looking in the wrong direction. I know they are. Like I told him, no thief would think there was anything of value in our house. They were looking for something they thought Mom had, or Reko, or maybe even me. But what, and why?

Mika shivered. If they thought it was me…No. If they had, they’d have come looking for me. It’s not like I’m hiding out. Not really. I went straight from the house to the motel once the cops said I could. And I’ve gone to work every day, too.

He kept on walking, heading back to the motel. The tension he’d almost let go of, because of his talk with Buck, began to return and he felt his shoulders tighten. Stopping where he was, he turned slowly, looking for anyone who might be interested in a lone man walking the dark streets. There was no one in view which he supposed was unsurprising, given the hour. Still, he stepped up his pace and soon was back at the motel and in his room. He took a fast shower before falling into bed. Moments later exhaustion overtook him, and he slept.