Murder in the Palouse Read online




  MURDER IN THE PALOUSE

  FRANK R. SPELLMAN

  I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

  --T.S. ELLIOT

  I will show you fear in an empty chewing tobacco pouch.

  --Susan B. Anthony Patch

  Other Amazon titles by the author:

  The Curmudgeon

  Obsession with Linda

  In the Shadow Of Crazy Horse

  Lena Bullima: Ultimate Dysfunctional Manager

  The Green New Deal Fiasco

  Burnin’ for Murder

  Truckin’ for Murder

  The Golden Curmudgeon

  Tunnelin’ for Murder

  Murder on the Blue Ridge

  Murder in the Grand Canyon

  Murder in the Narrows

  SEX OR MURDER, WHICH IS BETTER?

  Ann A. hid behind a hump, bump, lump, rolling, hillock or whatever it is called in a coulee in the Palouse of Washington State. Actually, in her camo clothing and jack boots—these boots are part of the uniform but also protection from rattlesnakes which are plentiful in the area—her fully loaded 30-06 rifle by her right side and her hunting knife sheathed and draped across her shoulders and diagonal to her waist she crouched off the trail waiting, waiting for hikers at the south-end of Palouse Falls Trail. She is waiting with walkie-talkie in hand. Actually she is acting as a posted lookout at her section of the 1.2-mile loop trail in Palouse Falls State Park. Standing now she spit out a mouthful of tobacco juice onto a couple of dragon flies who were mating on top of a tall wheat stalk; she waits.

  Meanwhile, at the other end of the trail crouches Ann B. also in her camo clothing and jack boots (which are highly polished when not being worn in the field and they stay that way whenever she does not miss with her tobacco juice spit with more often than not contaminate the boot tops) and holding tightly onto her AR-15 with 70 round magazine; she also sported a holster held 38-special revolver. She also has a walkie talkie with her. Her assignment is to watch for any hikers returning from Palouse Falls on their way back to the parking lot. Out of necessity, she spit out a warm stream of tobacco juice, missing her already stained boots; she waited.

  In between Ann A. and Ann B. is their leader, W.W. Williams (referred to W.W. by all in his clan, group or cult). W.W. is the leader of AANARC (Americans for Anarchy--=pronounced ANN ARK) a remote and diverse militia group occupying several different locations in the Palouse and Scablands within southwestern Washington State, within the northeast corner of Oregon and within most of the western border area of Idaho. W.W. leads a band (a cult actually, thank you very much) of 50 women (mostly young girls) and 10 men … all 60 of them can be classed as dregs of society … shit, of the globe.

  Why are they at Palouse Falls?

  Simply, really.

  They are there to wreak havoc and kill any hikers on the Palouse Falls Trail that they trap between Ann A. and Ann B. Between Ann A. and Ann B. are W.W and 7 of W.W.’s most trusted female troopers (cult members are called troopers); they the troopers, are cold-blooded, merciless murderers.

  During this current event, the troopers did not have to wait long before they had 11 hikers wedged in between Trooper Ann A. and Trooper Ann B.—W.W. and his killer wenches were happy to see all 11 of the unsuspecting hikers, consisting of 4 men, 4 women and 3 children. When they were close to W.W. and his killer wenches they all sprang from their hillock-like cover and instantly fired into the group killing all; they then walked over to each body and spit out a stream of warm tobacco juice onto each of the victims and then using long-bladed knives and heavy hand-axes they chopped up the hikers, stole their valuables and then faded away into the mounds, hills, sagebrush and out of sight and out of mind—so to speak.

  Where was W.W. Williams and his killer clan headed?

  They were returning along the 16-mile country road in 5 inconspicuous vehicles to their remote 300-acre site that served as their encampment and training facility, their lair, located 2.5 miles southeast from the town of Starbuck, Washington (absolutely no connection to Starbucks Coffee).

  With regard to W.W. Williams, the 28-year-old guru and madman in charge of his cult, group, band, clan or cult or whatever the fuck you want to call it, he can be summed up easily by reviewing his mantra—the same one he pumped into his followers daily.

  His mantra?

  Yes—it is summed up here.

  SEX OR MURDER, WHICH IS BETTER?

  Note from Jake Your Narrator:

  When a band of serial killers are wasting hikers in the Palouse.

  Who you gonna hire? Curmudgeons Inc.

  When law enforcement is unable to find the murderers.

  Who you gonna hire? Curmudgeons Inc.

  When you want ‘instant justice’ delivered to the asshole perps.

  Who you gonna hire? Curmudgeons Inc.

  When your shit out of luck enforcing the law.

  Who you gonna hire? Curmudgeons Inc.

  Okay, who the fuck is or Curmudgeons Inc.?

  I thought you would never ask!

  Well, good people, saints, adoring fans, all women whose first names start with the letter J and braindead snowflakes, I will get to that shortly.

  Now since you have to ask about the Curmudgeons and their famous (infamous) exploits you have not stayed tuned in on or with the TV, social media, newspapers stories about the Curmudgeons previous capers or murder investigations. So, to acquaint you with who the Curmudgeons are and what they are all about I will start with a brief history of the organization and make the appropriate introductions to key personnel in the organization as called for and when appropriate.

  Curmudgeons Inc. came into being in 1983 when the two original owners Thomas Jonathan Stonewall Jackson Patch (Patch) and his daughter Susan B. Anthony Patch (Sue) were asked by federal law enforcement authorities to investigate a serial killer case that was difficult to solve. Once they agreed to do the investigation the Curmudgeons (a name that Sue derived) they were able to solve and bring the perps to ultimate justice (commonly known as wasting the commie perps); thus bringing the murders to an end.

  Why did the feds ask the Patchs to take on the serial killer case?

  Good question.

  Well, in 1982 after Patch retired from a 26-year Naval career, he and Sue decided to explore the National Forest in the Olympic Peninsula in Washington State. The goal of the hiking and camping trip was for the father and daughter to get to know one another. Patch had spent consider time away from home while in the United States Navy and Sue was pretty much a loner with a very high IQ. During their outdoor adventure to explore the wonders of Nature and to get acquainted they stumbled upon an illicit drug manufacturing site deep within the Olympic rainforest (the only northern hemisphere rainforest on the globe). The drug operation was run by three scumbags who caught Patch and Sue off guard, unawares and unsuspecting and beat them to a senseless state and tied Sue to an 8-foot pole stuck in the middle of a clearing close to their tent-like buildings. Sue was savagely beaten and raped by the two male scumbags and then their female slut partner physically abused Sue with a coke bottle just for shit and giggles. Meanwhile Patch remained unconscious and presumed dead by the druggers, but he recovered during the night and was able to free Sue and they escaped back to the parking lot and to their vehicle. However, Sue was so infuriated with her treatment and her father’s desire to leave and to get out of Dodge so to speak that she threw a tantrum and Patch got the message and ran all the way back to the illicit drug operation site and destroyed all three scumbags by dicing up one of them with a machete, throwing the other male into the depths of the outdoor shithouse and finally shoving one of his cucumbers (which he usually had on him at all times for a snack) up the female’s ass; Patc
h was so mad and out of control that he did not realize that the evil bitch was stone dead; no not stoned as he assumed but instead lifeless. Thus he was able to administer ‘final justice’ to those who had assaulted them and abused them. Afterwards and when Patch related what had happened to local police and state police, the feds were informed and immediately pleased that Patch and Sue had found the drug operation and had wasted the perps (although they did not talk about ‘wasting’ perps out loud or even whisper it or hint it—maybe the message was delivered via ESP).

  ESP is possible—with the Curmudgeons anything is fucking possible, Jose, Paco and Maria.

  Anyway, Patch and Sue were so successful in solving their first few murder cases that it became common practice for local, state and federal law enforcement authorities to hire them to solve difficult cases. They also investigated a number of fraud cases. Sue was so intellectually acute in solving fraudulent bookkeeping activities that she could spot fraud in quick order.

  As their reputations grew, they had to hire more people. Patch who had invested in Seattle, Portland, Spokane and Boise, Idaho real estate during the 70s when properties were relatively inexpensive was now a multimillionaire … one who had no use for money. He just felt he did not need anything, and he had no bills other than taxes and utilities. He turned over all assets to Sue to manage. Funny thing is she had little use for money unless she was going off on some nature hike here and there. Also, neither of them had any real friends. However, that changed as they hired assistants who quickly became partners and Patch and Sue made them equal partners so that they shared the wealth, and all quickly became millionaires.

  So, let’s talk about Patch first. As stated earlier he is a retired Navy Chief Warrant Officer who served 26 years on active duty. He is also one of the most decorated military personnel who served in Viet Nam. He served on two Navy swift boats that patrolled several of the Mekong Delta river inlets. Both of the boats he served in came under enemy fire and in both cases Patch although severely wounded several times was the sole survivor. Just about all of the military’s awards for bravery were given to Patch, many in multiple numbers, including 6 purples hearts. He also was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor and never felt comfortable with the medal and the other awards. After retiring from the Naval Service the first thing Patch did was box up his medals, all of them and mail them to the Naval Academy—he felt he never deserved them and had a reason to think the Academy was the place for them.

  The reason he thought and felt this way?

  Well, that is a long story and was related in Volume 1 of the Curmudgeon’s most important cases and is not pertinent to this 10th major case the Curmudgeons took on; this case or caper is to be revealed here in the account that follows.

  Anyway, Patch is 6 foot 4 inches in height, slim and trim and all muscle and unusually fit for a 76-year-old. His only complaint is the arthritis that strikes him now and then and his gnarled hands burnt in a fire-fight where it is estimated that he killed more than 200+ enemies in Viet Nam with both a 20mm and 50mm gun.

  Even though Patch had no higher education beyond high school and various Navy Training Schools, he is not to be underestimated. No, not ever. He is one of those rare people who when he walks into a room full of people he is immediately identified as one who is the commanding type, without being commanding. It is his presence that garners attention. He has a commanding manner about him even when he does not speak. People are attracted to him even though he does not care about the attraction—or the people.

  Probably Patch’s most outstand attribute or characteristic is his ability to think calmly and coolly and thoroughly—he is a repository of common sense.

  How does Patch get along with his daughter Sue? Well, it took some doing for him to understand her and to sort of get on her wavelength, so to speak. She, like her father is an introvert who shies away from people (until she got to know her Curmudgeon partners, that is) and is a deep thinker. She hold two PhDs one in Environmental Science and the other in Environmental Health. She obtained both doctorates before her 22nd birthday. She is a nature lover who simply can’t get enough of the outdoors and its surroundings. She is an expert in so many areas of science that it is difficult to count them all.

  Susan B. Anthony Patch is not only a stunner in genius aptitude but also with her attitude, persona and looks. Although a Tom-Boy at heart and necessity because of her outdoor endeavors with Nature and serial killers she also possesses an elegance that is dignified by her appearance, movement and personal style of behavior. She can move around gently or like a peregrine falcon if need be. Quick witted and quick on her feet. In full sunshine when the sunlight touches the top of her head her waist-length bright red hair shines as if it were on fire. At 5 ft 9 inches in height and 125 lbs. of pure hard-bodied women only her smarts (IQ @ 180+) outdid the beauty that she is—her pale, freckled face was one of those that instantly attracted attention, desire and intense jealousy. A lot of people were shy, cautious, or wary about being in the presence of (or avoided any presence at all) with the very smart knock-out beauty that was Susan B. Anthony Patch (and also proved to be peoples’ opinion of the other Curmudgeon women—to be introduced in short order). Sue’s mantra was that nothing works so well to tranquilize the mind as a steady desire to learn, to expand the mind, to take in a small amount of limitless knowledge. With regard to the avoidance of friends outside Curmudgeon’s Inc. did it bother Sue?

  Are you kidding?

  She is the daughter of Thomas Jonathan Stonewall Jackson Patch—enough said about that.

  Sue also possesses a great deal of self-control. In her line of work challenges are brought forth continuously but she does not allow conflictual situations and relationships to unnerve her. She has learned that the less one reacts, defends, explains becomes fearful or controlling the more command she has over any situation. She is able to maintain a certain stillness, an icy coolness in the face of dangerous and life-threatening events.

  Sue was almost fearless; she was willing to dare greatly. She was aware that to compete with her father and the other Curmudgeons she had to do courageous things. She was able to do this without the loudness of her talk but with the depth of her character. She was not a quitter—never.

  Probably Sue’s strongest personal trail is that she is quite deliberate. She is clear and persistent about who she is, where she is heading and what she wants from any relationships with anyone (her only relationships are with the other Curmudgeons, all women—and her father, of course).

  “Oh, so what and who gives a shit about all that bullshit … she sounds like she thinks she is perfect, and we all know that is not possible,” you say.

  Yes, that is true; however, if you are ever in a dark alley and need a straight shooter (literally) to cover your back or your ass, Sue’s the one. And that can be said about all the other Curmudgeons also.

  Well, let’s move on.

  Let’s start with Bessie Mae Sowers. It seems that Bessie Mae Sowers was the only true cook and baker in the organization. When she baked those burnt bottom peanut butter cookies, she would often state: “I can smell when the suckers are cooked and burnt just the way we all like them.” The other Curmudgeons learned to love the smell of those cookies baking and they liked consuming them even more. Bessie Mae, like her Curmudgeon partners usually displayed a cockiness of certainty that only an expert like Bessie Mae can convey and back up. Let’s face it grasshoppers (and commie snowflakes) again Bessie Mae Sowers is an expert at everything; or so it seems. Bessie Mae was the first-person Patch and Susan B. Anthony Patch had hired at Curmudgeon’s Inc. Sue and Patch instantly liked Bessie Mae and gaged her as one of those smart, knockout-dragout beauties and at 55 years of age she looked like she was thirty-something. Bessie Mae is a tall, thin but well-proportioned hard body type with blonde hair (she later dyed her hair red to fit in with the Susan B. Anthony and Thomas Jonathan Stonewall Jackson Patch who were green-eyed natural redheads, although Patch was greying somew
hat—shit, eventually don’t we all?) and her striking blue eyes; she can do just about anything. She loved to cook and Patch and Sue (and others later) got hooked on her burnt bottom peanut butter cookies. She also knows how to mix the perfect drink for Patch (who, by the way, she is madly, I mean madly fucking in love with) a Salty Dog, which is a double shot of Vodka or Dry Gin with Grapefruit juice and salt—later, she switched to Cranberry juice to aid in controlling Patch’s kidney stone problem. Patch loved sipping on those drinks, especially while he chomped on his favorite food, a fresh cucumber. Bessie Mae always made sure they were well stocked with cookie makings, cucumbers, Salty Dog ingredients, and for Sue, bottles of apple juice, thank you very much!

  Susan B. Anthony Patch was not into alcohol—well in the beginning of the early days of Curmudgeon’s Inc. that is … later she learned to enjoy a Salty Dog or two or three.

  Oh! The travesty of all that alcohol intake—break out the bloody Mary’s, right on Jose, Paco and Maria.

  Although Bessie Mae was originally hired as an administrative assistant, she quickly became a partner in the Company when she demonstrated her expertise with a handgun (a Dirty Harry Special, of course—for you snowflakes out there in la-la land that is a 44-Magnum revolver ‘that will take your fucking head clean off’ and ‘will make her fucking day, too’). Anyway, Bessie Mae also was expert in knife throwing (Mr. Bowie was her preferred weapon) and, to the surprise of Patch and Sue, she is expert in throwing hand axes. She later trained Sue on both knife and ax throwing to the point where they are matched in expertise and accuracy. She also is expert with the crossbow and could put a bolt (arrow) just about any place she aimed. Bessie Mae also is a natural born partner who gets along with anyone (but don’t fuck with her if you want to retain your gonads, snowflakes) and seems to be able to read not only Patch’s wants and needs before anyone else, but also has a knack for knowing how to clear the way for smoother operations, so to speak.

  In the simplest terms possible, it can be said the Bessie Mae Sowers is the glue that holds Curmudgeon’s Inc. together in perfect synergy—no matter what!