Murder in the Mountains?

Chapter 5

Author's Note: Sorry for the incredibly long delay, but I completely forgot about this story and recently decided that I might as well finish it for anyone interested.

A small, brick building was nestled between tow low-end apartment complexes. A bright neon sign that read Joe's Bar flickered just above the building. This bar was exactly the type of place most cops in Los Angeles loved to spend time in. The homicide detective reclining in one of the tables of the building, however, felt unclean by even breathing the stuffy air and touching the menu he was pretending to read.

Steve was starting to become increasingly agitated. Of all the places the tour guide could have arranged to meet with her boyfriend, it had to be at the most rundown joint in the city.

Steve glanced at his watch, muttering to himself when he realized that it had been almost an hour since he had arrived at the bar. "Where is he?"

From the chair across from Steve, Mark looked up, slightly startled. "Steve, have you ever considered the possibility that John will not show up? This could just be another one of the tour guide's schemes." His voice was calm but his eyes flashed with irritation.

Steve sighed and massaged his temples. Glancing over at the young woman sitting alone at a nearby table only increased his headache. "And she just sits there without a care in the world, smiling, waiting!" Steve turned to look at his father and lowered his voice. "I'm beginning to think you're right about her."

Before Steve could contemplate his next course of action, the door to the bar creaked. Steve snapped around and found a tall, dark man standing in the entryway. Steve and the man locked eyes briefly before Steve broke eye contact and innocently stared at his menu. The man peered in all directions like a prairie dog until his eyes rested on the woman seated alone in the bar.

"Lindsay!" the man greeted as he distastefully eyed his surroundings. "Why did you want to meet me in a place like this?" A wooden chair screeched against the floor as he seated himself next to the woman.

Steve brought the menu over his face as he watched the man intently. He had no idea who this man was; it certainly wasn't the John Tabura he remembered putting behind bars.

"You ugly jerk!" the woman exclaimed, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why did you do it?" She retrieved a handkerchief from her back pocket and blew her nose loudly. "Tell me why!"

The man stared at her dumbfounded and scratched his head. "I came here because you called me and said you wanted to talk to me? What's wrong; has the movie been canceled?"

Mark's face it up and his scowl became a satisfied grin. "It all makes sense now..."

The woman's eyes darkened. She balled her hand into a fist and waved it under the man's nose. "Are you trying to say that this whole thing was an act! You were every bit as involved in this as I am." She slammed the table and gained the attention of all dining at the bar. "Don't play innocent with me!"

The man's eyebrows knitted up in confusion. "But I only did what you told me to. I know that last scene was over the top, but I made sure that you were all out of range when I fired."

" You make no sense. What are you talking about?" the woman whispered.

Mark had watched enough. He stood and approached the table with the hysterical woman. "Oh, I think you know exactly what is going on Lindsay." Mark stared her straight in the eye. "All those traps in the woods- they were just special effects."

The man, flustered, rose from his seat and addressed the older man. "Yes, I was helping her film the special effects for a movie."

Mark' smile grew tenfold. "Ah, then you have everything on videotape."

Steve was amazed at his father's antics. Things had taken a turn he had certainly not expected. He lightly shook his head in disbelief. Steve allowed himself the satisfaction of relaxing for a moment; the case was solved and Mark had once again uncovered the truth behind a strange crime. He was completely unprepared for the next chain of events.

Steve watched in horror as the woman whipped out a pistol. She held the weapon in a firm grip parallel to the ground and aimed at the center of Mark's chest. "No!" Steve cried as he reached for his own gun. "Dad!"

Boom! Boom! Boom! Three shots, and Mark slumped to the floor. Mark's crumpled body was forever emblazoned in Steve's memory. He let out a feral growl and charged the woman with the gun. Police protocols were meaningless. He didn't care what he had to do or how he did it as long as he inflicted as much pain as possible on the shooter.

Steve was on top of the woman before she had time to even blink. Steve kicked the gun out of her hands and pocketed it himself, tackled her to the ground, and roughly pulled her arms back to handcuff her wrists. He left her on the floor as he raced to his father's side.

Amanda and Jesse had been watching the events transpire from outside the restaurant by peering in a front window. As soon as the two saw the gun and Mark fell, time seemed to stop. They flung the door to the bar open and raced to the older man.

Amanda, Jesse, and Steve stood in shock as Mark's eyes popped open and as he sat up.

Steve fell to his knees, all male pride vanishing from him. "Dad." He spoke the word quietly. It was a question, an apology, a statement of genuine love.

Jesse's worry-stricken face became jovial. He laughed a bit to lighten the mood. "Wow. What happened in here, Mark?"

Mark sighed and got to his feet. "John Tabura has nothing to do with this mess. And that man over there is just some innocent special-effects technician." Mark motioned to the horrified man pinned against a wall with several other terrified people. "Every thing's alright folks!" he called. "It's safe; you can all leave. The police will handle things now."

Mark addressed the tour guide. "I don't understand," he said. "What possible motive could you have for doing this?"

The woman shifted and sat up, twisting her wrists to relieve the uncomfortable pressure of the metal. "Johnny Tabura is my brother," she admitted quietly. "He's out of jail and doesn't want to get into more trouble. Somebody had to get revenge for his time wrongfully spent in prison."

Mark nodded but declined to say anything more.

Steve made a call for backup to secure the area and to pick up the tour guide who sulked on the floor and refused to speak a word. The customers in the bar began to slowly disperse. Mark made an effort to usher them out of the building. Steve caught his wrist and gave his father a pleading look. "You were almost killed," he choked out. "If you hadn't done whatever you did, I would have just sat there and watched you die." Steve adverted his eyes to the ground.

"Steve..." Amanda started but was silenced by a glance from Mark.

"You had no control over what Lindsay was going to do," Mark assured him. "The only reason I was so risky in my confrontation was because I found her gun earlier and switched a clip of bullets for blanks." Mark's voice took on a gentler tone. "Steve, I'm fine, Don't beat yourself up over this."

Steve was grateful. He genuinely appreciated his father's attempt to comfort him. The last part of Mark's statement bewildered him, though. "Blanks, dad?" he asked as he went to secure his prisoner. "Since when do you carry around clips of blanks?"

Steve felt better about himself. It was nice to turn the heat on somebody else for a change. Apparently, Steve wasn't the only one to bring strange things with him in unusual places.

Mark shared a conspiratorial grin with Amanda and Jesse. "Actually, Steve," he began with an innocent smile, " I found the clips in your bag."

Steve shot his father a dirty look. Amanda and Jesse tried in vain to stifle their laughter when they felt Steve's glare upon them. Soon, all four were chuckling. Steve realized that he was being a traitor to his own cause, but that was irrelevant. After the stress of the past few days, a little mirth was gladly welcomed.

Jesse was the first one to sober up and become serious. "I suppose this means you don't want to finish our camping trip?"

He was met with three dubious stares.

Mark sighed and glanced at the woman kneeling on the floor. She looked up and glared daggers at Mark before silently crying to herself. "Jesse, I don't think I ever want to go on another camping trip again."

Mark recalled the memories of the brief time he spent at Moonlight Springs Lodge. "No more horses, no more tour guides, no more trails, no more crusty food." Mark was oblivious as Steve roughly pulled his prisoner to his feet and led her out of the bar. He didn't hear Amanda and Jesse follow Steve out the door. "No more explosions, no more saunas, no more trains..."

Mark glanced around and realized he was the only person remaining in the building. "And no more shabby, little bars!"

END