The Executioners

The Executioners

Ruth Ann Hixson

Published by Ruth Ann Hixson at Smashwords

Copyright 2015 by Ruth Ann Hixson

Cover by Ruth Ann Hixson

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This book is fiction and has been produced from the author's imagination. Any names, descriptions and places are coincidental.

This book or part of this book may not be reproduced with out consent of the author.

Chapter 1

The sunrise over the Blue Ridge painted the sky blood red but the mountain road that Sheriff Eugene Adler drove on was still in shadow. Gene wasn't looking forward to the reason that brought him to the mountain so early on the June morning. He touched the mic on his shoulder. Bill, were you able to get anymore info on the number where the call was made?

The call came from the Quik-Mart. Todd's on his way over there now.

Good. Gene turned the wheel and steered the cruiser into a open area in front of a ramshackle log cabin. He parked off to one side so he wouldn't mess up the tire tracks in front of the cabin. He hesitated before going inside. Bill had said dead people. People was plural. He stepped out of the car and walked toward the door, his gut knotting up like it did in Iraq when he knew a firefight was coming.

On the door was a note in bold black letters on white, attached to the door with a small knife: SHERIFF. We have done your job for you. The Executioners.

Gene pushed open the door and shone his flashlight around the dim room. Along the back wall was a line of blindfolded bodies. He moved his light down the line. Ten, he murmured. Ten people lined up and shot down. He tried to imagine what had brought this on. One murder would be unusual for his backwoods county in east Tennessee. Ten was beyond real.

At the sound of a car, he turned. He was glad to see that CSI Hope Palmer had parked off to the side as he had. He immediately called Dr. Phillips to tell her to park off to the side, too. There are tire tracks that might be traceable. Oh, and tell George to bring extra body bags. We have ten bodies.

Oh, my. I'm not ready for multiple bodies so early on a Monday morning.

Hope came up beside Gene. What have we here?

Just what you see, Gene returned. They left us a note so we know who is responsible. Too bad they didn't sign their names.

Hope studied the note. How tall are you?

Six two. Why?

Stand up here. A person usually posts something like this at his eye level. The person who put that note up here was taller than you. That narrows it down a little bit.

Bag it. Then start on the tire tracks. I'll take an initial look around before Bertie gets here.

She's here. Dr. Alberta Phillips stepped out of her Black Lexus. Pushing her glasses up on her nose, she walked over to look past Gene to the lines of corpses. They went inside staying along the wall to avoid contaminating evidence.

Gene knelt down beside the first victim and pulled up the blindfold. God, she's hardly more than a kid.

Move, Bertie ordered. I'll take her temp. She squatted down and shoved the tip of the thermometer in the the woman's liver. Dead about two hours. She moved along the line of victims. As near as I can tell they all died from multiple gunshot wounds.

Gene carefully checked the pockets of the victims but came up empty. I'll get out of here so I don't mess up the crime scene. He needed to get out in the air. He drew a deep breath. City problems were moving into rural areas because there was less chance of getting caught. He was well aware that drug traffickers were moving products through the mountains where there was less chance of detection. Not in my county. Not if I can help it.

George Lucas, Dr. Alberta Phillips' assistant, pulled up behind the cruiser. I'd been here sooner but I had to go back for more body bags.

They aren't going anywhere.

Gene followed George into the cabin. Hope had just finished taking impressions of some of the tire tracks. I count three vehicles, she told Gene. Bertie was busy taking multiple pictures of each victim prior to moving them to body bags. Being the only men on the scene, it was Gene and George's task of lifting them into body bags and carrying them to the van.

Gene felt the nausea building in his stomach. He needed to get away from the vehicle. In the ten years he'd been with the sheriff's department, five of them as sheriff, he had never come across something like this.

When the bodies were stacked like cord wood in the van, George headed back to town. Dr. Phillips stopped to tell Gene, We'll do autopsies as soon as we can. I'm not sure we have enough refrigerated facilities to handle this many bodies.

Check with Greene's Funeral Home. Just make sure Ralph understands they haven't been autopsied yet. Don't want them embalmed.

I numbered them to keep account of who's what.

Good idea.

To tell the truth, I think this would be a good time to take a vacation. She gave him a grin and headed for her car just as Deputy Sheriff Norman Finder pulled up and parked.

He gave her a wave and trotted over to where his boss waited. What do we have?

Ten execution style murders. It looks like they were lined up against the wall and cut down with an assault weapon. Hope's inside. Go help her. And no fooling around. Gene knew his deputy had it bad for the CSI worker. I'm going to the office to see what comes up with the fingerprints and DNA. Somewhere there are relatives or loved ones waiting for them to come home. Oh, before you leave, seal the door and string crime scene tape around the cabin and across the drive out at the road. See you later.

As he drove down the winding mountain road, Gene puzzled over why the red-haired young woman looked familiar to him. She'd been a beauty with coppery red hair and green eyes. Where had he seen her before?

****

Zippora Zippi Decker checked her watch again. It was nearly nine o'clock. She couldn't imagine her sister being in bed that late unless she was sick. She pounded on the door again and waited another ten minutes. Her mind bounced back and forth from the thought that Ginger might be with a man to genuine concern for her errant sister. She debated whether to dial 911.

Last night Zippi had dreams of violence that involved her beautiful red haired sister. The dreams left her with a premonition that something bad had happened to Ginny. She knew from past experience that the dreams and visions she had too often came true. It had happened just before Danny got shot in Afghanistan. He would never come home to her now.

The feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that something had happened to Ginny and prompted her to look for something to break a window in the door. She jiggled the doorknob to try to get a response within. The door opened inward. A chill made the hair on her neck stand on end. Ginny would never go off and leave the door unlocked. Too much was at stake.

Zippi stepped across the threshold and looked around the dimly lit living room. Then she saw Peaches lying on the hardwood floor in a puddle of blood. She switched on the light to see without disturbing anything. The window blinds and drapes were closed. She took out her phone and dialed 911.

She explained to the woman who answered what she had found. The woman responded, I'll get in touch with the sheriff. Someone should be there shortly. Don't touch anything. Without touching anything, Zippi looked in the bedroom and bathroom. No one was there but it looked like there'd been one hell of a fight.

Zippi regretted that she didn't spend much time with her younger sister. That's the way Ginny wanted it. I can't live my life with you looking over my shoulder, she'd said. So Zippi moved out of the old home place and got an apartment in town.

She went outside and sat down in a porch chair to wait for the sheriff. She didn't have to wait long until a patrol car came up the steep lane to the house. She stood up as Sheriff Adler got out of his car.

What's the problem? he asked.

She motioned for him to come inside where she showed him Ginny's dead dog and the disarranged bedroom. I was supposed to come over this morning; she said she needed to talk to me. I didn't look to see if her car's in the garage. The door wasn't locked so I came in.

Do you have a picture of your sister?

Zippi walked over to the fireplace and took down a framed picture that showed a pretty redhead and a young man who looked Latino. Gene took the picture and stared at it. He was temporarily at a loss for words. I'm sorry to inform you that your sister is dead. She was among ten victims slain in an execution of sorts in a cabin up on Moon Hollow Road.

Zippi felt like she would faint. She must have looked it, too, because the sheriff grabbed her arms and guided her back outside to set her down in a chair. She felt like she needed to cry but couldn't. Everything inside her froze in an instant.

He took her hand and squatted down in front of her. I'm sorry for your loss. Zippi just sat there looking at him but she wasn't seeing him. She was seeing her sister, so full of life and always laughing.

When she finally found her voice, she asked, Why?

I don't know. But I intend to find out. No one has the right to murder with impunity. Do you think you can answer some questions?

She nodded.

I'll give you a few minutes while I go see if her car's in the garage. He left her alone on the porch and walked to the garage which sat off to the side and back away from the house. When he came back he said quietly, No car but I did find a meth lab or what's left of one. There's broken glass all over the place. I've got to call it in.

Ginny was making meth? I don't believe it. Ginny hated drugs. She wouldn't even take anything for a headache.

Someone had a meth lab in your sister's garage. Adler walked out of hearing distance to call for a CSI. You'll have to call someone from another county. Hope's already got her hands full. He closed his phone and walked back to Zippi.Ms. Decker, do you feel like answering some questions about your sister now?

All of a sudden, it came to Gene where he'd seen the young woman. Decker. He'd arrested her for underage drinking a few years back. She was the daughter of the late Ernest Decker, a sheriff who'd been murdered ten years ago, right after Gene had joined the force. Was there a connection to Ernie Decker's murder and what was happening now?

I'll try. We weren't close. She wanted to live her life without any inference from me. She called me a Victorian prude.

Did she live here alone?

I don't know. She liked to party. We didn't agree on what constitutes responsibility.

Do you know any of her friends?

No. I do know she was working as a waitress in the Rebel Rooster Bar and Grill. I was there to talk to her once. It's a dive. She told me to mind my own business. She's twenty-one. She wears her hemline too high and her neckline too low. I didn't stay.

I know where it is. It's out of my county but I'll get the sheriff of that county to go with me when I go out and talk to them about her. At the sound of tires crunching on the gravel driveway, he turned to look. Here come the haz-mat boys. He walked away to show them where the meth lab was located.

Zippi stood up and went into the house. She found a pack of latex gloves in the cupboard and pulled on a pair before sitting down at the table to open Ginger's laptop. Once it was booted up she typed in the email address. She knew it was midnight in Afghanistan but she needed to contact her brother immediately. She needed to tell him about their younger sister's murder.

Dear Rock, I'll dispense with the chatter about the weather, etc. I don't know how to put this so I'll tell you right out. Our little sister is dead. She was murdered.

What the hell are you doing? Gene demanded from the doorway.

She looked up and held her gloved hands up for him to see. I contacting my brother in Afghanistan to tell him Ginger's dead. I didn't delete anything. I'll only be a minute.

Contact me at home. The sheriff is having a fit because I'm using Gin's laptop.

After she sent the message she closed the laptop and stood up. Finished. No harm done. Do you need me for anything or can I go home?

If you think you can do it, I would like you to ID your sister sometime today. I'll pick you up at home and take you to the morgue.

Zippi gave him her address and cell phone number before going out to her car.

****

When Zippi walked out the door, Deputy Sheriff Todd Fullmer walked in. He turned to look back at his niece. Apparently, she hadn't noticed who walked past. She only saw the uniform. Todd was Zippi's uncle, her mother's brother. He hadn't been around much since her mother died about a year ago.

Todd was already wearing gloves. Where do we start? he asked Gene.

Gene looked up from the laptop. Upstairs or down?

Todd was getting along in years and had a recent hip replacement. I'll take down. I don't feel like climbing stairs today.

How did you make out at the Quik-Mart?

They're supposed to get a disk to us yet today. He looked down at the dead dog. Now why would they have to shoot the dog. It couldn't tell on them.

Bag it. Maybe there's a bullet we can get an ID on. Gene went back the hall to the stairs where he ran his hand along the wall for a light switch and found it. He went up to a landing and turned to continue to the second floor. It smelled of stale smoke and beer. A bathroom was directly across the hall from the stairway. One look inside was enough for him.

The bedrooms were worse with empty beer and liquor bottles, cigarette butts and the remains of marijuana joints. The beds were unmade and clothes were strewn about. A CSI's nightmare, he muttered. Judging from the looks of the bed sheets there was plenty of DNA evidence. One bedroom door was locked. He'd let the CSIs handle that.

In another room, he checked out drawers in the dresser, chest of drawers and night stands. He found some drug paraphernalia and some pills. When he raised the lid on a trunk that sat beneath a window, he let out a long whistle. Got the mother lode here. The trunk was full of kilo packs of cocaine. Time to call in the big boys.

Gene took out his phone to contact the DEA. After explaining what he'd found, he added, I found it when investigating some murders. He went on to explain about the ten murders. I think the executions have something to do with the drugs. One of the victims was the owner of the house. It would be a real help if you could get your CSU to go over this house. My resources are tied up with the murder scene right now.

He went back downstairs and looked in on Todd. Find anything of interest?

A lot of busted up furniture and a bloody busted beer bottle.

Leave it. I called in the DEA. There's a trunk full of coke upstairs.

Holy shit!

I'm taking Ginger Decker's laptop. I'll leave a note for the feds. I think this laptop is connected to our murders.

I'm thinkin' about retirin' real soon.

Don't run out on me now.

I've been thinkin' a lot about it lately. I'll stay until you find a replacement. Maybe help break him in. By the time the snow flies I'm gonna be sittin' in front of the fireplace with my feet up, nursin' a beer.

****

Zippi closed the door, locked it and leaned back against it. All the way home she fought back the tears. The tears began to flow as she slid down the door and sat on the floor. She didn't know how long she sat there but when she finally quit crying she felt exhausted. You always were one to push the limits, Ginny, Zippi mumbled as she stood up.

She set the coffeemaker to brew and went to the bedroom for clean clothes. The apartment felt like a sauna though the A/C was running full tilt. In the bathroom she looked in the mirror. Her face was red and tear streaked. Some strands of brown hair had escaped the clip that held it back on the nape of her neck. A pair of brown eyes stared back at her. She was pretty but not beautiful. Ginny was the beautiful one with her coppery hair and green eyes.

Zippi set the water to tepid and stood beneath the shower head and let it wash the tears from her face. She stepped out of the shower and dried. Wrapping the towel around her, she went to the bedroom to pull on cutoff jeans and a black and white striped halter. One thing Zippi had going for her was the kind of complexion that allowed her to wear any color, any shade.

She poured a cup of coffee as her cell phone began ringing. It was a recorded message that she had a dentist appointment Thursday. Turning on her computer she checked to see if there were any emails. There were none needing immediate attention so she sat on the couch and turned on the TV to get the twelve o'clock report.

The news anchor was talking about the sensational murders. According to a bulletin from the sheriff's office, ten people were found dead in a mountain cabin this morning. They were all shot to death. The sheriff's office isn't releasing any more information because they haven't been identified yet. We will update this report as information becomes available.

Zippi switched off the TV. She could get the weather report from her computer. She set her empty coffee cup aside and stretched out on the sofa. She hadn't meant to fall asleep but she did. She was roused by a knock on her door.

She scrambled to her feet and hurried to the door as a second knock sounded. Pulling aside the curtain, she saw the sheriff outside. She realized her hair dried while she slept and it was tousled.

She pulled open the door. Hello, sheriff. I must have fallen asleep. Come on in and I'll get you a cup of coffee.

I'll take coffee any time of the day or night. Can I impose on your hospitality and ask you for a sandwich? I haven't had time to get anything to eat yet today.

She stepped to her corner kitchenette and took down a heavy old-fashioned mug which she filled with coffee. Cream or sugar?

Naw. Black and strong. It's been a long day and it's not over yet.

What kind of sandwich do would you like?

Anything you happen to have. I'm not fussy. He took a sip of coffee. A couple of ice cubes to cool this off would be nice.

Sorry. She pulled an ice cube tray from the freezer door and set it down on the counter. She put a couple cubes in a dish and set it on the table beside his coffee. One sandwich coming up. She brought him a roast beef and cheese and a bag of chips.

I'll be right back. I've got to change if you want me to go to town.

You look fine to me. It's hotter than blue hell out there. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to wear this hot uniform. Comes with the job.

She hurried to the bathroom to use the toilet, wash her hands and comb her hair. Donning a sleeveless white blouse over her halter, she went back to the kitchen to make a sandwich for herself. Do you want a second one? she asked.

No. I'm fine. I will take a second cup of coffee though. And may I use your bathroom? My car doesn't come equipped with one.

She pointed to the door that separated the kitchen/living/dining room from her bedroom. First door on the right. She poured another coffee for him and got one for herself. Then she sat down to eat her sandwich.

As he sat down to drink his second cup of coffee, Gene asked, Are you ready to go ID your sister?

It has to be done. There is no sense in putting it off.

Chapter 2

Do you go by Zippora or do you have a nickname? Gene glanced over as he sat behind the wheel. At least it was cool in his car with the A/C pumping full blast.

You can call me Zippi.

I'm Gene.

After that there was little to say. Zippi felt the tension rising. She wasn't looking forward to seeing her sister dead. Ginny was always bubbling with life. Now she would be still forever.

Zippi stole a look at the sheriff. He had a fine profile with a straight nose and a firm chin. His dark hair was clipped short. She couldn't see his eyes for the sunglasses he wore. She turned back to look through the windshield trying to remember from before. Brown or maybe hazel. It gave her something to think about besides her dead sister.

Gene parked outside the hospital where the morgue was in the basement. Are you sure you're up to this?

She drew a deep breath. I can do it. Let's get it over with.