Victim 18 post 18

CHAPTER 6
ELIZABETH O’ MALLEY

The next morning Wren is up early and after a shower she slips back into a pair of jeans and a tee shirt and eats some cold cereal for breakfast. Norman will be here soon to take her out to the Phelps county sheriff's department to pick up her Mustang.

Norman arrives promptly at eight and they are on their way.

“Wren, have you heard the news this morning?”

“No, what's up?”

“Check the front page of the paper behind the seat.”

Wren reaches back and picks up the paper, directly across the top of the page are words that bring back a thousand bad memories.




“VICTIM NINETEEN FOUND!




The nineteenth rape gang victim was found late Sunday morning duct taped to an interstate highway sign at Kingdom City along interstate seventy. The victim was identified as Miss. June Smithers of Jennings age twenty-nine was reported missing on Saturday when she failed to return home from picking up her wedding gown from the dressmakers on Friday. The seamstress reported that she did in fact pick up the gown and wore it out of her shop so she could show it to her grandmother in a nearby retirement center. According to her grandmother and the retirement center she never arrived. Continued on page A2.”




“Norman, this is horrible! If the police had listened to me maybe this poor woman wouldn’t have met such an awful death.”

“I know, they could have at least tailed Rachel and caught them in the act. By the way, how's the job search going?”

“Well I’ve decided to concentrate on archeological field work instead of accounting. I mean after all it is what my major is in, accounting was only a fool proof back-up. The only problem is there aren’t a lot of full time digs in the U.S. so I will have to relocate.”

“Well I know someone who hopes you don’t have to relocate.”

“Really? Who could be that desperate?”

They both laugh at her little joke. She loves Norman dearly, and she feels safe with him, in ways he reminds her of her own father. He is steady and sure, nothing about him ever really changes even his truck is always the same. Always immaculately clean with the odd scent of hot chocolate lingering in the air. She wonders if she does get a foreign job can she bare to leave him behind? With her late night and early start she soon finds herself drifting off to sleep.

As she sleeps a series of childhood memories starting at age seven come up into her mind.

“All right Wren this is the clip where the bullets go and it snaps into here. Now we cock it by pulling up and then back on this lever over here now forward and down it’s almost ready to fire. Now once we push this button the safety is off and if the trigger is pulled it’s going to shoot.

Now take your right hand and hold this part. It's called the fore stock. Put this end called the butt here on your shoulder. No not there, that's too far out and you’ll bruise your shoulder. That’s it now look down the top of the barrel through the v shaped piece of metal and line up the straight piece at the front in it with the target. When you have it all lined up push the safety and then squeeze the trigger. But remember to hold the gun tight to your shoulder because it will punch you when it fires.

Wren looks down the barrel aiming at the bulls eye and the twenty-two makes its small bang of life.

“How did I do Daddy? How did I do?”

“Well let's go see.”

They walk the seventy-five feet to the target. It seems like an eternity to the ecstatic Wren as she bounces along beside her Dad.

“I don’t believe it. If I didn’t see it I’d never believe it.”

“What Daddy?”

“You got a bullseye the very first time you ever shot a gun.”

“Well that’s what you're supposed to do isn’t it?”

“Yes but it’s rare to find someone who can do it the first time.”

Time passes within the dream and Wren is several years older and she is looking down the scope of a nine millimeter magnum as it roars into life, and an elk two hundred yards away falls dead. A ramrod straight Wren starts her run toward the downed elk, gun in hand and ready for a second shot. She gets to the elk and pulling a knife out of its sheath slits its throat so it can’t possibly run off. Kneeling a short distance from the animal she makes a sign of the cross and offers prayers of thanks for a successful hunt. She takes off her pack and pulls out a small shovel digging a small hole and then starts field dressing the elk. When she is done she pulls out a drag harness, hooks it to the hind legs and starts the two and a half mile walk back to her dad’s truck with the elk in tow.

Half a mile from the truck her dad meets back up with her.

“Nice size buck, how far away?”

“About two hundred yards.”

“And right through the spine? You are definitely an amazing shot. Actually though, I was wondering how far you had been dragging it.”

“Oh I guess about two miles so far.”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

“You know Mom isn’t going to like this.”

“Still a vegetarian.?”

“Vegan now, the only time I eat meat is when I’m away from her. So I try to stay away from her.”

They both laugh for a while as John finishes dragging the elk to the truck.

“Well you do remember I’m supposed to be home again around Christmas and you’re supposed to be back here for Christmas break. That’s what, close to two weeks isn’t it?”

“A little over but when you take out travel time that’s what’s left. Oh Dad, I wish I could just stay here with you and not have to go back.”

“So do I Wren, but the courts placed you with your mother as primary custodian and with my job you do need a stable home.”

Wren wakes back up at first surprised to be in Norman’s truck then reality sets in that she is merely remembering the past. They aren’t half way to Rolla yet as she looks out of the window with tears running down her face.

“What’s wrong Wren?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“I just had a dream about my dad, that's all.”

“Bad dream?”

“No, not really. I was dreaming about our last hunt together.”



Norman learned a lot about John Robbins that day and some more things he didn’t know about the woman he loved.