Doppelganger Read online

  James was worn from lack of real sleep and it showed. Bags were plainly visible under his bloodshot eyes, and his speech even had a slight slur to it. He seemed drunk. Bill suggested that he go home and get some rest, and he did.

  It was three in the afternoon when James finally returned to the sheriff’s office a second time, looking and feeling a little bit better. When he arrived, Sam and Bill were just coming out of the building and walking to Bill’s patrol car.

  Seeing James drive up, Bill changed his course and walked over to his pickup. Meeting James as he stepped out of his truck, Bill said. “We’re headin’ out to Bob Ellis' to check on Larry and his dogs if you want to come along.”

  “Sure,” James replied with a shrug.

  As he climbed in the backseat of the patrol car, he realized this was his third such ride. The thought of the circumstances surrounding his previous rides in the backseat of a patrol car made him uncomfortable and he considered asking Sam to switch seats. His manners got the better of him, however; and he didn’t utter a single complaint. Luckily, the trip out to the Ellis' place was a short one.

  * * *

  The State supplied Larry with portable pens for his dogs, but it was still up to the host department — in this case the Newton County Sheriff’s Department — to find a place to set up Larry’s makeshift kennel and a nearby place for him to stay. Bob Ellis and his new bride, Jewel, had just built a house about two miles north of the small community of Liberty, some seven miles north of Newton. It was built on thirty acres of land, which was mostly wooded but included a small pasture on which Bob had three horses. Bob had drawn the detail of quartering Larry and providing a place for his dogs. Bob and Jewel could definitely relate to James’ sleeping problems. Larry’s hounds might have been the best sniffers in the country, but they weren’t exactly the best neighbors one could ask for. For one thing, they were quite prone to suddenly start baying in the middle of the night. This had been an almost constant problem when Larry first arrived, but he swore his babies were only excited about being in a new place. Last night the dogs only woke up once, but it was enough to ruin yet another night’s sleep for the Ellises.

  When Bill, Sam, and James arrived at Bob’s, they could hear the dogs baying from behind the house before they even stepped out of the patrol car.

  Bill rang the doorbell and got no answer, so they went around back. Larry had the dogs out of their pens and was working them in the back yard. It actually looked more like he was playing with them. Larry would put the dogs back in their pen, take a small beanbag-like sack and hide it among the numerous obstacles placed throughout the yard, and then walk over to the pen and let one of the dogs out. The bloodhound would come out of the pen running with its nose to the ground. A tarp had been thrown over one side of the kennel, preventing the dogs from watching Larry hide the beanbag, but Larry’s babies had no difficulty finding the bag with their sniffers. In fact, it took more time for Larry to hide the bag than it did for the dog to find it. Once the hound found the bag, Larry would make it sit, then give the dog a treat from a small pouch he wore on his belt, ruffle the dog’s ears, and return it to the pen with the others. He would then repeat the process with one of the other dogs until every dog had its turn, then Larry would start over.

  Larry glanced up and noticed his three new observers, but he didn’t acknowledge their presence. He just kept right on working the dogs.

  Bob was out patrolling, but Jewel Ellis stood in the house’s little gazebo, watching Larry and his dogs. She had her long brown hair pulled back in a braid. She had no makeup on and her face looked almost as worn and weary as James’ had this morning. Jewel Hart Ellis was a native of Newton County. Her family had lived around Burkeville, a small community a little further north, for generations. Jewel was one of the sweetest people you could have the pleasure to meet. Despite the fact she hadn’t slept well since the dogs arrived, and it had been the sheriff’s decision to quarter the dogs in her backyard and their strange master in their spare bedroom, she still managed a smile when Bill walked up to her.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Ellis,” Bill said, taking his hat from his head. Bill’s normal greeting toward a young lady would include the comment, you look lovely today, but in light of how rough Jewel looked, Bill skipped the phrase, thinking it would sound a bit sarcastic.

  “Afternoon, Sheriff Oates,” Jewel said sweetly.

  “Mrs. Ellis, have you met Deputy Taylor?” Bill introduced James to Jewel

  James smiled and shook her hand and she commented. “James Taylor, right? You work at Baldwin’s Garage don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And I believe you’ve met Captain Jones,” Bill said.

  “Captain Jones,” Jewel said, and extended her hand. Sam, who had also taken his hat off, revealing his hairless head, took her hand and gently shook it. “Can I get y’all anything?” Jewel asked. “A glass of tea, maybe?”

  Bill, Sam, and James all declined the offer. They all stood and watched Larry and his dogs for some time before Bill once again spoke up. “Mrs. Ellis, I sure do appreciate you letting us keep the dogs out here. I hope it hasn’t been too much of a burden on you.”

  “Not at all,” Jewel lied, “Just glad we could help out.”

  They continued to watch Larry and his dogs for the better part of an hour. Larry never took a break or came over to speak, and Bill and Sam didn’t want to interrupt. Finally Bill turned to Jewel and said, “Well, Mrs. Ellis, I think we’ll be heading back to town. If you need anything, you just call up to the office and let me know.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff Oates.”

  * * *

  That night the beast was on the move. It ambled through the pine forest like it owned the place, occasionally crossing streams and roads and coming into clearings.

  It came up to a paved road and watched from the woods as a car came by. Then the beast withdrew into the woods and began moving again, now parallel with the road. Every now and then it would come to a house and have to take time to skirt its way around the yard. Once it even had to detach its vision into a dog so it could pass by undetected.

  It continued on through the woods for miles before it came to a dirt road, where it stopped and looked around. It walked along this dirt road until it came out at the paved road again. Then the beast took a look around as if it was looking for something. It then turned back around and entered the woods. It began moving along parallel to the dirt road, much the same as it had been doing earlier with the paved road.

  As it moved along, hounds began to bay in the distance.

  It had moved too close.

  The beast detached its senses, passing through the woods before coming into a clearing. A house was situated in the clearing, near the dirt road. The beast’s senses then continued toward the back of the house, where it found a small, temporary pen holding seven bloodhounds. The senses then entered each of the hounds.

  The hounds didn’t stop baying instantly, so the beast had to bide its time. It simply sat on its haunches, patiently listening. Fifteen minutes passed before the hounds quite suddenly stopped their baying. The beast then waited for a while longer before proceeding.

  It moved stealthily through the woods toward the house. Remaining near the edge of the tree line, the beast moved along until it was as close to the dog pen as it could get and still be in the concealment of the trees.

  It then stood on all fours and walked toward the pen. Once the beast came near the pen the dogs started up again.

  “Hush, now! Hush, damn it!” the beast said in Larry’s voice.

  The baying quieted somewhat and the beast hurried to the gate to the small pen. As it opened the gate, they started baying again. It would have to work fast before they woke someone.

  * * *

  It seemed he had just come from outside when the dogs started up again. Larry had worked the dogs harder than usual today, hoping he could wear them down to the point that they would sleep tonight and give his h
osts a break. It seemed like it hadn’t worked; the dogs sounded more active than ever. He was about to get up when the barking changed. Larry knew his dogs better than most people know their own wives. He recognized their current excited baying as the happy barking they generally reserved for when he fed them. This was strange. Perhaps some well-meaning stranger was unloading his scraps in their pen, but that wasn’t right either. The dogs never got that excited unless he was with them.

  Larry sat up in his bed and stretched. The bloodhound-handler-Larry wasn’t as much of the type to worry about inconveniencing others as the family-man-Larry was. The bloodhound-handler-Larry had a one-track mind, and his only two concerns were tracking down whomever - or in this case whatever - he was sent to track down. And the welfare of his dogs. To hell with anything and everything else that didn’t have to do with one of these two concerns. However, the way Larry saw it, keeping the Ellises’ happy had a lot to do with both of these concerns. The Ellis house and the area around it were perfect for Larry and his hounds. Aside from the three horses that Larry had convinced Bob to move to another pasture for the duration of his stay, the Ellis place was well away from the various things that could distract the dogs from their training, like nosy neighbors and other dogs and animals. The Ellises also had a large backyard and a pasture to work the dogs, and the woods were near the house, so Larry could work them in the woods without having to load them up and transport them somewhere else.

  As Larry searched the floor and under his bed for his pants (the bloodhound-handler-Larry was also quite a slob), he heard the dog’s baying change dramatically. Fear.

  He heard a yelp.

  Larry grabbed his revolver off the nightstand and took off, starting down the hall clad only in his long johns.

  * * *

  The Ellis master bedroom was on the other end of the house. Jewel woke up when the dogs started baying the first time, and she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep when they started again. She woke Bob and asked him to go see if Larry could do anything to quiet the dogs down. Bob, who had been sleeping like a rock through all the commotion, got up and put on his robe. He was on his way down the hall to Larry’s room when his guest burst out the door and slammed into him. Despite being about fifty pounds lighter than Bob, Larry didn’t fall. In fact, his step didn’t falter; he didn’t even break stride. He plowed into and over Bob and kept going.

  Outside the dogs’ barking had turned to outright panic. Another startled yelp was heard, and was abruptly silenced.

  Larry threw the sliding glass door that lead to the back porch open with such force that it jumped off its tracks and fell to the porch, shattering.

  Another yelp came from the pen, this one long and pained. He could hear the rest of the dogs were barking and howling in outright terror.

  Driven by a combination of rage, fear, and panic usually reserved for parents protecting their children, Larry leaped from the porch and started toward the pen.

  There were security lights in the backyard of the Ellis house, but none of them were close to the pen. Larry was halfway across the backyard before he could make out something in the pen with the dogs. It was standing on two legs. Larry saw this intruder swing a long arm, and then saw what seemed to be one of his dogs fly across the pen and against the far wall of the pen.

  “Son-of-a-bitch!” Larry shrieked, and fired his .38 in the air. There was no chance of him hitting whatever it was at this range without a risk of hitting one of the dogs, but perhaps he could scare it off.

  Apparently it worked. Whatever was in the pen with the dogs ran out the gate and started for the woods. Larry fired two poorly aimed shots at the shape while still on the run.

  The beast crashed into the woods with Larry not too far behind.

  Larry continued chasing whatever it was that had hurt his babies. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear it. Every once in a while he would let his rage out, and shriek an expletive at the top of his panic-stricken voice. About ten cuss words later Larry tripped over a root and went sprawling face first.

  Larry raised his head. “Bastard,” he said now in a hoarse whisper.

  He then pointed his revolver in the direction he had been running and blindly fired his remaining three shots.

  * * *

  Bob made it to the back door just in time to see Larry crash into the woods. He turned to Jewel, who had heard the commotion and gotten up and now stood right behind him. “Call the sheriff’s office,” he told her.

  Then Bob rushed back into the living room and turned on the light. He went to the gun-cabinet, and selected a .308 out of the dozen or so shotguns and rifles. Bob hurried to the back door, where he stepped outside, carefully trying to avoid stepping on the broken glass with his bare feet. Once past the glass, he started toward the dog’s pen at a trot.

  As Bob hurried across the yard, he noticed the dogs were strangely silent. When he got nearer and saw the gate open, he first began to calm somewhat as he decided that maybe one of the dogs had somehow managed to get out and that Larry had taken off trying to catch them. But this didn’t make any sense. From what he had seen, Larry’s dogs were so well disciplined that if Larry wanted them to come back he’d just have to call them and they’d come running. In fact, it almost seemed that the pen was unnecessary; Larry could probably draw a circle on the ground and tell them to stay in it and they would. Not only that, but why had Larry been shooting?

  As Bob approached the gate he began to hear a faint whimper. He knew it had to be a dog, but it almost sounded human. Then he saw the mutilated remains of what had been Larry’s bloodhounds.

  “My God,” he gasped

  In the distance three shots rang out, causing Bob to jump.

  * * *

  Bill was first to arrive at the scene. He got out of his patrol car, drew his pistol, and started around the house. “Bob! Jewel!” he called out.

  “Around back!” He heard Bob answer.

  In the backyard Bill found Bob and Jewel standing together halfway between the house and the dog’s pen, facing the pen. Bob had his rifle in one hand and had his other arm wrapped tightly around Jewel, who was shivering. Bob was wearing a bathrobe, and Jewel was wearing only a nightgown.

  As Bill approached from behind the couple, he holstered his gun and took off his jacket. Bill placed the jacket on Jewel’s shoulders. “Here you go,” he said softly.

  Jewel didn’t say a word. One of her hands reached up and softly grasped Bill’s hand as he positioned the jacket. She was crying. Jewel was no great dog lover, but she had always been a soft-hearted person.

  “What happened?” Bill asked.

  “Something got Larry’s dogs,” Bob answered in a reverent whisper.

  “Where’s Larry?”

  “Down there,” Bob gestured toward the pen. “He’s shook up somethin’ terrible.”

  Bill started down the hill.

  The pen was a bloody mess. To the right of the gate there was what seemed to be a gory strip of dog hide hung in the mesh of the fence. A severed dog’s leg with most of the shoulder still attached was lying right in the doorway. One of the dogs had even been ripped completely in two, with its lower half lying on one side of the pen with guts hanging out of it, and the front half lying near the middle of the pen.

  Larry was kneeling in the middle of the pen holding one dog with its head in his lap, another lay near his side. He was covered in his babies’ blood.

  “You’ll be okay Jody,” Larry sobbed to the dog in his lap. Then he stroked the dog that was by his side. “Sshh, Cecil, it's okay, Daddy’s here.” He started crying uncontrollably. “My babies. My beautiful babies.”

  Bill didn’t say a word. He silently turned and walked back toward the Ellises’ allowing Larry to have his time alone with his babies.

  Five of the seven dogs were dead, and Jody, the dog in Larry’s lap, would be dead before sunrise. Cecil, the only surviving dog, would recover and eventually be kept as a house pet at the Williams house. Larry retir
ed from the Department of Public Safety as soon as he returned to Austin.

  Chapter 15

  Suspicions

  James closed the office door behind him; he was the last one to arrive. Bill was seated behind his desk, and Sam and Emilio were seated across from him.

  Not long after Bill had left for the Ellises’, James called in to tell Bill about his dream. After finding that Bill wasn’t in, he looked Emilio up in the phone book and called him. He had just started explaining everything to Emilio when Emilio’s pager went off, no doubt calling him out to Bob Ellis’ house. The last couple of days of being able to tell his horrible dreams to someone had worked as a sort of therapy for James, and he desperately wanted to talk to someone. He thought about trying to look up Sam’s number and talking to him, but decided against it. James went back to his couch and tried to go to sleep. It seemed he had just dozed off when the phone rang. He looked at the clock: 7:45 a.m. No, he’d slept at least an hour, maybe two. It was Bill. He asked if James had seen what had happened to Larry’s dogs. When James said he had, Bill told him to come into town immediately. When he arrived, Debra had directed him to Bill’s office.

  “Have a seat, James,” Bill said.

  James took one of the folding chairs from behind the door, opened it, and had a seat.

  “Sam thought we needed to have a little meeting of the minds,” Bill said, then nodded to Sam.

  Sam cleared his throat; the throat clearing turned to a cough, which led to more coughs. Sam began to turn red. Emilio reached over and began to pound him on the back. Sam took a drink of his coffee and started to talk again, but found his voice gone. After another couple of sips, he was able to speak in a hoarse voice. “Sorry about that. What I needed to say was that we’re back at square one with this thing. I can replace the dogs within a week — wouldn’t be as good of a team, especially without Larry, but they could still be replaced. However, after what happened Monday, I’m not so sure the dogs will work anyway. Quite frankly, I’m stumped. We weren’t successful tracking it. And, if there’s a pattern to this thing’s killings, I’ve missed it. You two,” Sam pointed a pair of thick fingers at Emilio and Bill, “have worked on this case longer than I have, and you,” he pointed at James, “seem to be able to see things about this thing that the rest of us can’t. What I need is for us all to put our heads together and see if we can’t come up with something – anything – that might be useful.”