Chapter Three: Muskrat Love
The animal stared back at Steve with sightless eyes, death had left its top lip rolled up and dirty sharp teeth exposed. He looked back at the two men who stood in front of him and wondered just exactly what he was supposed to do with the creature.
"Well, get off your knees, Boy, you've got a supper to fix!" Cletus ordered.
As he spoke spittle flew from his mouth and it was flecked with bits of tobacco from the ever present wad he kept in his mouth. It landed on the floor around Steve and their 'supper'. He had caught, cleaned and cooked fish before, but that was completely different, if they had walked in and thrown a bass at his feet, even one with a bullet hole, he could have dealt with it, as it was he didn't even know where to begin. "I don't know what to do with it," Steve explained as he gestured towards the carcass.
"Didn't that daddy of yours teach you nothin'? My boy learned how to skin, clean and cook critters before he was six years old."
Steve felt his temper rise at another suggestion that his father had failed him in some way. "My, FATHER," Steve emphasized the word as he spoke. "Taught me everything I need to know to be an honest, decent man, it's a shame yours didn't do the same for you!" Steve regretted it as soon as he spoke; he knew he would pay for his comment, but once again Cletus's reaction surprised him.
It started as a low rumble in his chest and bubbled out into deep laughter. Cletus Baxter slapped Steve on the shoulder. "I see talking about yer Pa can make ya a bit touchy, I'll have to remember that, Donnie, show the city boy how to clean this here critter up. Next time you'll be doing it on your own," he informed Steve as he walked away still chuckling.
Sloans' Deck
"This is a waste of time!" Jesse exclaimed as he slammed a file on the table.
Mark reached a hand to steady the glass of lemonade that nearly sloshed out of the container as the folder had impacted the table. He peered over the top of his glasses with tired blue eyes at his young friend. Though Jesse could always be described as impatient and at times impetuous, the word angry was rarely used. They were all weary; Amanda and Jesse had joined them as soon as their shifts had ended, a double for Jesse, and they'd been poring over the information in the folders since. The dull ache from Mark's lower back was now settling into every muscle of his entire body. Experience had told him it was too early to give up, but he was finding it difficult to concentrate, vivid images of Steve in the bed of the truck as it drove away were interspersed with other visions his imagination kept creating, in all of them his son was hurt and in pain. Sighing, he redirected his thoughts to the matter at hand, he could help Jesse. "Jesse, I know you are tired and it's frustrating, but we have to find something to help Steve."
Blue eyes flashed above cheeks that were flushed in anger. "I know that, Mark, but this is not the way, you know the governor, call him, get the National Guard involved in searching the woods, that would be much more productive than trying to prove a guilty man innocent!"
Mark knew that the root of this uncharacteristic outburst was fear, it was taking every ounce of personal control he had not to succumb to it as well, and he didn't know if he had the strength to fight the battle for Jesse.
"Jesse," Amanda said softly, she had moved so quietly that no one had realized she now stood beside him. "Come take a walk with me, please? My back and neck are killing me and I need to stretch." As she finished she offered him her hand.
Jesse stared up at her, the peacefulness of her expression calmed him and he felt the tendrils of anger recede to a manageable level. As he looked towards Mark his cheeks were red again, this time from embarrassment. "Mark, I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me."
Mark waved a hand nonchalantly. "Don't worry about it, Jesse, you are scared like the rest of us, now go walk with Amanda."
Sloans' Deck
Steve picked the piece of fur from between his teeth, apparently Donnie didn't believe in completely cleaning the animals he caught and killed. He had watched the entire process amazed at what Donnie could do with a knife, having observed his father and Jesse in surgery he recognized someone who was naturally gifted. It appeared though, that removing the fur was another matter entirely, and he certainly needed practice for that. He had never thought he would see the day that something he would normally consider road kill would be his dinner. He was so involved in trying to pry a small piece of meat that remained on a tiny bone that he didn't realize that Cletus was standing in front of him until he grunted, he looked up to find him offering him a glass. Steve muttered his thanks and sat the glass on the floor beside him.
"Ain't ya gonna take a drink?" Cletus asked.
Steve eyed him for a moment, picked the glass up and looked at the liquid, it was then that the smell hit him, he almost gagged. "It's moonshine," he stated.
"Well ain't you the smart one," Cletus responded.
Steve then noticed that Cletus's breath matched the smell emanating from his cup, his eyes were bloodshot and if possible his speech was worse than normal. He looked beyond him to see Donnie practically slumped in his chair; apparently, both men had been having a good deal of drink to go along with their meager meal. Steve allowed himself a mental smile, when he had been cleaning earlier he had found the end of an old garden hoe, he had intended to wait until they left him alone again to try and pry the end of his ankle chain out of the rotting wall. Now though, it appeared that Pa and junior were well on their way to tying one on. He offered Cletus a small smile and holding his breath he brought the glass to his lips and pretended to take a sip. He knew what kind of reaction Cletus was expecting so he obliged, he coughed and choked loudly, the aroma from the drink helped by causing his eyes to water. All in all he thought he had given an academy award winning performance, and his reward was the sound of a hyena like cackle that probably scattered animals for miles around the cabin.
"Whoo-ew, I told Donnie you wouldn't be able to handle my corn liquor, look at 'im, Donnie, he's a cryin' like a baby. Shame we don't have a goat we could get you some milk, it might be a little gentler on your delicate stomach." He snorted one more time, before stumbling back towards the table and falling into a chair.
Sloans' Deck
They had to sleep, Mark knew it, he was exhausted, but he seriously doubted if he would even be able to lie down. He looked around the table, Amanda. Cheryl and Jesse were all engrossed in the files they were looking at, but fatigue was visible in their faces and their bodies, even Amanda, who had impressed his sister Dora with her perfect posture, was slouched in her chair. Cheryl had been off the clock for hours now, yet she was still here as well, and Jesse, well Jesse had come back from his walk re-energized, and he was convinced they would find the answer tonight. "I think it's time we called it a night, you are all welcome to stay here if you like."
Three startled faces looked at him in unison.
"But, Mark, we haven't found anything yet," Jesse responded.
"I know, Jesse, but we are all tired and I don't think this is going to be something we can solve in one night, we all need some rest, and you and Amanda both have shifts at the hospital in the morning."
Amanda rose from the table, stopped beside him and dropped a kiss on his cheek. "Are you going to be ok here?"
"Yes, I'll be fine, go home to the boys, I've kept you away from them too long anyway," as he had finished his voice had broken.
"Mark, what is it?" She asked quietly.
He looked up at her with moist eyes that were filled with pain and sadness. "Hug your sons tight, they are all that matter."
His expression tore at her very soul, they had to find Steve and he had to be ok, because if not, the Baxters would claim two victims, she felt certain Mark would not survive the loss of his son.
Sloans' Deck
The loud snores were interrupted only by the sounds of other more unpleasant body functions. Steve had been leaning up against the wall for hours now. Cletus and Donnie had consumed so much of the moonshine he'd given up trying to keep track of it. The time waiting patiently for proof they were completely out of it had been spent quietly working on the wood around the iron eye in the wall. He had been delighted at how easily parts of it had come loose. One good tug and it would break away, he glanced one last time at his captors then yanked on the eye, it came free and if not for a quick recovery on his part would have banged on the floor. As silently as the chains would allow he stood up, and moved across the small room to the door. Stopping for a moment he tried to remember how loudly it had creaked when it had opened before, realizing he had not been paying attention he cursed himself while grasping the knob and turning it slowly and pulling it towards him. The door screeched on rusted hinges and Steve quickly looked over at his captors, they had not even stirred, as he stepped through the door a path to the woods became visible. He found himself bathed in moonlight and started down the trail that he hoped would lead him to freedom, the beams were oddly comforting and they seemed to guide the way.
Sloans' Deck
The others had been gone for close to an hour, he had been relieved when no one had taken him up on his offer to stay, he needed this time alone. There had not really been any time to come to terms with what had happened. Immediately after Steve was taken, he had called the police and reporting the details of the kidnapping had been his sole focus, then he had turned his attention on Captain Newman and getting access to the evidence that had been gathered in the case. The brainstorming session with Amanda, Cheryl and Jesse had consumed the rest of his time. He found himself alone with his thoughts, normally it would have been a relaxing time, but this was not the case now. The house seemed larger than normal and not nearly as friendly or comforting as it usually was. He walked across the deck and down the steps, as he started across the sand he stopped for a moment and looked back over his shoulder at the door that led to Steve's apartment. The despair threatened to overwhelm him, but he willed it away and continued walking until he reached a log that sat at the edge of a dune. As he sat down, Mark noticed that the log was suffering from the ravages of time; it had survived longer than he would ever have imagined. This was where Steve came when he needed to work things out, sometimes Mark would join him, at other times he would leave him to handle it himself. Mark looked up to the sky and at the moonlight that was enveloping him, the beams spread a warmth through him and to his amazement he found comfort in their glow.
Sloans' Deck
Steve had been walking for a little over thirty minutes, his progress had been hampered by the heavy chain and its tendency to catch on every twig or branch. His face was riddled with scratches and his shirt had been torn in several places. The path had taken him deeper into the woods and the canopy of trees had obliterated the moonlight. He heard a rustling from behind him and he stopped and held his breath while he listened, an owl hooted in the tree above him causing him to jump. The noise from the rear grew louder and the urge to run overwhelmed him and he stumbled forward at a jog. He now heard sounds from all around him, the Baxters were on his trail. His level of fatigue had increased and along with it so had the pounding in his head. Those two things combined to make him careless and it wasn't until his ankle pressed against the trip wire that he realized he had walked into a trap.