Chapter X-Ray
X-Ray
The morning sunlight streamed through the thin white window curtains, waking Mac from a deep sleep.
The twin bed groaned as he pulled himself to a seated position, noticing the chill in the air.
The cabins were not heated. The other bed was vacant.
He wondered when Cooper had gotten up and how he hadn’t heard him.
He also had to wonder if this was him losing his edge because of the new domestic bliss he enjoyed by sleeping beside Yvette most nights over the past few weeks.
Glancing at his watch, he was surprised to see it was nearly seven.
Mac quickly pulled his jeans back on and slid a pair of socks over his feet. His shoes were near the front door of the cabin. Pushing open the room door, he found Cooper and Robinson seated at the wood dining table, drinking coffee. The fireplace was lit, which had kept the main room warm.
“Morning,” he said. “Any news from the Digital Team regarding the recordings?” He went to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup.
Garcia had gained remote access into the surveillance system John Williamson had that recorded all the cabins in his campground after Williamson had shown them the computer the system was housed on.
The entire week-long recordings were divided among several Digital Team members to review.
It would be faster this way as that was a lot of hours to review and most of it would show a vacant cabin with no discussion as the men would have spent most waking hours out on the lake fishing, plus there’d be at least six or seven hours each night that they slept that could be fast-forwarded through.
A software program would help with the audio recordings, cueing up each section with sounds.
“Yes, Garcia reported this morning that his team has gotten through a lot of it and so far nothing to explain their disappearances. They should get through the rest of it, and the last day, this morning. My bet is on the last night and the morning of their departure that will give us some clues,” Cooper said.
Mac took a seat with them at the table nearest the fire to get warmed up.
“I still say they should have started at the last morning and worked their way back on the recordings,” Robinson said.
“Where’s Gallup this morning?” Mac asked.
“Went for a run,” Cooper said. “And before you ask, Flores reports all was quiet for him and Winston last night at Williamson’s house.”
After they’d confronted John Williamson and he’d given them access to the computer the recordings were stored on, they took him into protective custody.
Flores and Winston remained with him until the shop was closed, and they accompanied him home.
Not able to determine yet if he had anything to do with the disappearance of the four men, he would not be left alone.
“So, we’re still in wait mode,” Mac commented.
“Not entirely. As soon as Gallup gets back, he and I are going to go check out cabin number seven, which no one else has stayed in since the men disappeared. You and Robinson should take the boat out to that branch of the creek we know our four men were told about and see if anything looks off,” Cooper said.
Just before Mac and Robinson were going to head down to the little dock to take the boat out, Cooper received a call from Garcia.
Cooper put the call on speaker. “The team is done with the initial assessment of the camera and audio surveillance. There were no violent scenes captured, and no words exchanged that indicated any problems. The one notable thing detected was a loss of signal the morning the four men were to check out of the campground, and Woods was able to confirm that the entire campground’s electric cut out for two hours that morning,” Garcia reported.
“I have Smith following up on that with the electric company right now. I’ll forward that info to you as soon as I get it. ”
“That’s just a little too coincidental,” Cooper said.
“And convenient,” Mac added.
“How widespread was that outage?” Robinson asked.
“Smith’s also checking into that. He’s also researching how often outages take place in the area,” Garcia said.
“Williamson should be asked about it. Just to see if he gives a verifiable answer,” Gallup, who’d just returned from his run, said.
“Flores is my next call,” Garcia said.
“Was anyone besides the four men in the cabin over the week?” Cooper asked.
“Not in. They had one visitor the night before they checked out, but he didn’t step foot inside. He knocked, and Fees stepped out to talk to him. Woods is trying to get an ID on him,” Garcia said.
“Get us a photo; we’ll take a look around for him, though if he was a guest in another cabin, I’m sure he’s checked out by now,” Cooper said.
“The police would have a record of him,” Mac said. “Have Woods run his picture against all the names of the people the police interviewed who were guests at the campground.”
“He already is,” Garcia said.
The four men’s text notifications chimed.
“Just sent the picture,” Garcia said.
Mac checked his phone. “No fucking way.”
The three other men stared at him after checking their phones. None of them recognized the man with the mullet.
“This is the bartender from that bar across the lake,” Mac said, holding his phone and the picture up.
“Get us an address for him, Garcia,” Cooper said.
“Calling Flores. Surely Williamson knows where the man lives. It’s a small town,” Garcia said before he disconnected the call.
Three minutes later, Cooper’s phone rang. “Flores.” Cooper put the call on speaker. “I have you on speaker. What do you have for us?”
“According to Williamson, Billy Lane Smith is not just the bartender at the bar. He owns it,” Flores said. “And he lives above it.”
“Does he live alone?” Cooper asked.
“Yes, though Williamson said he is known to have a woman by the name of Peggy Sue Draper sleep over on a regular basis.”
“Thanks, we’re going to confront him. You two stay with Williamson; we’ll let you know if we need you,” Cooper said and then disconnected the call.
“Let’s go.” He grabbed the car keys from the table where they lay.
Flores had the other pickup truck. Mac slid his boots on and rushed out of the door to join the others, forgetting to grab his coat.
The forty-eight degree air instantly invaded him.
Before he pulled away from the cabin, Cooper placed a call to Garcia and told him their plans. The call was on speaker. They heard the keys of the keyboard clicking rapidly as Garcia attempted to pull any info on Billy Lane Smith and the lakeside bar.
“Identification as William Lane Smith confirmed from his driver’s license,” Garcia said.
“And the bar is his listed address.” More clicking.
“Getting a registered owner by the name of William Ray Smith, and oh, our boy, Billy Lane Smith, has a criminal record, armed robbery in Mobile. He served seven years out of ten, and was paroled ten years ago.”
“Who is William Ray and where is he now?” Mac asked.
“I’m checking. Go on comms and I’ll notify Ops for you,” Garcia said.
“Thanks, Garcia. We’re pulling up in front of the bar now,” Cooper said.
“What’s the layout of the place?” Cooper asked.
“There’s a dock around back and a deck with tables, a door leading into the bar.
Inside, it’s mostly one room, the main bar area with a large oval-shaped bar in the middle of the room.
The main door in was on the west wall. Back door on the east. On the north wall there're four doors. One is a bathroom; your guess is as good as mine as to the others, though one has to have stairs leading up to where this guy lives,” Mac said.
“The south wall has dart boards and windows.”
“With the deck and dock and how the ground slopes towards the lake, it’s a long way down from the windows on the back of the building,” Robinson said. “He won’t be dropping out of them to get away.”
From the front of the bar, the roof sloped up to a pointed roof. There were no windows on the front of the building.
“Kegger and Ducky, you go around back. Mac, you’re with me.” Cooper’s gaze focused on the two men. “Let us know when you’re ready to make entry through the back. Mac and I will come in through the front, and we’ll locate Mr. Smith together.”
Robinson and Gallup ran to the side of the building and disappeared around its corner.
Cooper and Mac approached the front door of the bar.
After examining the cheap wood door and lock on the doorknob, and finding the door locked, they pressed their backs to the building on either side of the door, and they waited.
Several minutes later, Kegger’s voice came through comms. “Ready whenever you are, gentlemen.”
“Ops, are you on the line?” Cooper transmitted.
“Roger that, Coop,” Yvette’s voice replied.
Hearing her voice, a smile came to Mac’s face and felt a sense of safety.
“Control, we are getting ready to make entry,” Cooper said. “Be ready to notify the local LEOs if we need them.”
“Roger that, Coop.” They heard keys clicking on the keyboard. “I’m tapped into the local 9-1-1 system.”
“Make entry,” Coop said and then drew his weapon. Mac’s was already held at his side.
Cooper stepped in front of the door and raised his leg. With a powerful kick, the door exploded open. Mac entered ahead of him, his gaze and weapon sweeping the inside of the vacant bar. A second later, the back door opened. Kegger and Ducky strolled inside and closed the door behind themselves.
Cooper jogged over to the oval bar, checking it to make sure no one was hiding within.
The four men converged on the four closed doors on the north wall.
The sign on one of the doors read Ladies; on the one beside it, Gents.
Cooper pointed to the first one. Mac opened it and pushed it inward from a kneeling position as Cooper rushed into the space, weapon leading the way. A one-toilet bathroom. Empty.
Ducky and Kegger did the same with the second identical bathroom.