Read Jack Zane: Evil at Storm Lake Page 16


  Chapter 16

  As the plane soared over the Rockies, Jonathan looked on in awe. He’d never really seen the mountains, at least mountains like these. They were magnificent. From a sightseeing perspective, he was looking forward to the trip. As for the rest…well, he’d play that by ear.

  He’d flown into Denver and from there had taken a commuter junket up to Billings. As they came in over the city, he could see the housetops immediately below, when suddenly…they touched down. He would see the runways set up on a bluff over the city. It was a unique aeronautical experience.

  Mike Hansen was waiting for him. As people always do, Jonathan had a preconceived notion of what Mike would look like, and he wasn’t too far wrong. Average height, stout man with short sandy hair and penetrating blue eyes. They exchanged greetings, hopped in Mike’s truck and headed for the motel. There was some small talk, about the beautiful weather, and of course the unusual landing. Mike laughed, told Jonathan, he hears that every time someone flies into their airport the first time. “Wait till you take off, if you thought landing was fun.” Mike actually found that more amusing than Jonathan, but he laughed anyway.

  All the way to the motel Jonathan kept glancing at Mike out of the corner of his eye, hoping he didn’t notice. He couldn’t help thinking, this man, only a boy then, survived the attack of a mass murder, and now I’m here to talk to him about it.

  It was about 4 p.m. when Mike dropped him off. He’d come back and get him about six and take him to their home for dinner. After dinner they’d have time to talk.

  Jonathan called Amy to let her know he’d made it safe and sound, despite the local placement of the airport, then cleaned up, got all his materials in order and waited for Mike.

  Right on schedule Mike pulled up. Jonathan jumped in and they made the short drive to the Hansen house. It was a nice two-story, well kept and homey inside. Nancy, Mike’s wife, met them at the door, introduced herself and invited Jonathan in. There, playing in the family room was Katy, a cute little blond with her dad’s big blue eyes. She came out, said “Hi”, and went back to playing.

  Nancy had prepared a wonderful homemade meal. Jonathan felt stuffed. He waited in the living room while they put Katy to bed, then Mike summoned him to the family room.

  “Jonathan, can I get you some coffee?”

  “Sure, that would be great. That was such a superb meal I feel like taking a nap. Some caffeine would be welcome.”

  As Mike made the coffee, he asked Jonathan about his life, where he’d come from, how he’d become a writer, but nothing about his history with Jack Zane. Jonathan figured it would be he who would have to bring it up. Nancy stepped in and said she had some things to do upstairs, so he and Mike could go ahead and talk. Mike plopped down in his lounge chair, while Jonathan relaxed on the couch. Mike looked across at Jonathan and said, “So, Jack Zane rears his ugly head once again.”

  Well, I guess he wouldn’t have to mention it after all. “Yeah, I guess so. You know Mike, I’ve been wondering for some time now how this insane killer, who’s been dead for what, some thirty years now, can still reach from the grave and affect peoples lives. It doesn’t make sense. My mom, your parents and sister have been dead almost that long and…well, I’m sure you see my point.”

  Mike leaned forward in his chair, put his elbows on his knees, “It’s because people are fascinated with the dark side of life. Look how we glorify killing, robbery, violence in the movies, on TV. It’s unbelievable to me, but there it is. And then we wonder why there’s so much crime. It’s one of the reasons Nancy and I chose to live here, away from the big city. Not that we don’t have crime, we do, but it ain’t nothing to…say, New Orleans.” There was a little glint in his eye, like “I got you.”

  “Well, certainly I’d have to agree. Look at me, I write about crime to make a living. You’re right, there’s definitely a market for it. I don’t know if this book will be a hit or a bomb, but one thing it will be is honest, no glorification. He’s going to come across just as he was, a maniacal killer, whom the world is better off without.”

  “Well, that shouldn’t be hard, that’s what he was,” Mike said relaxing back in his chair.

  “Mike, I don’t know quite how to start this, given the horrifying experience you went through, so just start where you feel comfortable.”

  “Comfortable, Jonathan? There’s nothing comfortable about this.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  “That’s okay, I know what you meant. Let’s see, where to start talking about the most horrible event in your life. I guess at the beginning.

  You probably already know some of this, so stop me if you do.”

  “No, you just talk, I’ll listen.” Jonathan said, turning on the recorder.

  “We’d gone camping up at Victoria Springs; it was one of our favorite spots. We could camp out, play around, do a little fishing, it was a great place for our family.

  I’ll never forget that night; it was clear, crisp with a half moon. We’d cooked over the fire, dad read us a story and we’d bunked down for the night. I was sleeping on one side of mom and Ann on the other. Dad would sometimes sleep outside with Spots, but that night he slept in, at the foot of the tent. It was a big tent, could accommodate all of us, even Spots. I never heard him get up in the middle of the night. The first thing I remember was someone in the tent, I thought it was dad.”

  Jonathan was sitting up now, attentive, “Were you afraid?”

  “Well, not at first. I remember looking up and seeing a shadow against the tent wall. I said, ‘Dad what are you doing?’ He said nothing, that’s when I got scared. I tugged on mom, she looked at me and I guess could see the fear on my face, she sat up and that’s when…”

  Mike got up and moved to the window, his voice quivering.

  “Ann sat up and began screaming, I saw a flash of something shinny…and she stopped. Something warm splattered across my face. Ann wasn’t moving. Mom tried to get up but he grabbed her by the throat and shoved her back down. Then he grabbed me by the neck and was choking me. My mom grabbed something, maybe a flashlight, and hit him with it. He let go of me and went after her. I started crawling out the side of the tent. He grabbed my leg and pulled off one of my socks. After I got out of the tent, I ran. My mom stopped screaming. I ran down to the river and hid in the weeds. I know now, that I was probably only a few feet from my dad and Spots. I could see a little in the moonlight, so I waited for him to come out. It wasn’t long before he came out and looked around, I know he was looking for me, but probably thought I’d run away. He went back into the tent and…then came back out and down to the river. I guess still looking for me. I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. I was frozen. He could have stepped on me and I wouldn’t have made a sound. He rummaged through our stuff, found the car keys, got in the car and drove off. I couldn’t look in the tent, or look for my dad or Spots, I just turned and walked out through the fields. I knew they were all dead. I don’t know how long it took, I know it was daylight when I wandered into Dunning.”

  He turned, came back and sat down, tears in his eyes. Jonathan fell back into the couch distraught. He felt a knot in his stomach and thought he might throw up.

  “Mike can I use your bathroom?”

  Mike, with head in hands, pointed down the hall. Jonathan stood in the bathroom staring into the mirror. Was this worth it he wondered? What have I put this poor man, this family through? He washed his face off and made his way back to the family room. Mike hadn’t moved, still sitting, leaned forward in his chair, looking down at his feet.

  Jonathan sat back down on the couch. He didn’t quite know what to say. Mike looked up at Jonathan said, “Well, there it is. I don’t know what else I can tell you?”

  “Don’t worry, that was enough. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “I knew what I was in for, you were
honest about what you needed. It’s funny, it never gets any easier. It’s something I live with day after day. There’s virtually not a day goes by I don’t think of it in some way. Maybe it’s because I’m in law enforcement, I don’t know, but it’s always there. Knowing my parents and sister will never get to see or know my sweet Katy.”

  “How could it not be? I think about my mom, who wasn’t killed, every day. I think you’ve handled it very well.”

  Jonathan had stayed long enough, “Mike I’ve taken up enough of your time tonight, I’ll head out if that’s okay.”

  Mike drove him back to his motel. Jonathan had offered to take Mike to lunch the next day before he left, Mike accepted. He was emotionally drained. He didn’t know how many more of these gut-wrenching interviews he could take. There was a new part of him that mourned after each one.

  It was a quaint little restaurant in downtown. Jonathan had packed and was ready for his 3 p.m. flight. Mike would take him to the airport after lunch. Jonathan was curious how, or why, Mike went into law enforcement.

  “Mike, why law enforcement?”

  “Good question. I suppose part of it had to do with what happened. If I could stop or prevent what happened to my family, make sure nobody else had to go through it…I guess that’s why I went into it.”

  “Do you feel like you’ve been able to do that…make a difference?”

  “Yeah, I do. I mean, I’m not naïve, there will always be crime, but if I stop one killing, one rape, save one person’s life, it will all be worth it. As a matter of fact I’m part of an investigative team right now working on a series of killings, that probably involves a guy just like Zane.”

  “Really, you mean here in Billings?”

  “No, in and out of Montana. It’s been going on for several years. The guy comes down to the states, usually Montana, North Dakota or Idaho, kills, robs, rapes, then ducks back into Canada.”

  “Has he killed in Canada as well?”

  “Oh sure, he bounces back and forth. We’ve nicknamed him the Border Butcher, but up in Canada they’re calling him La De’couper, the carver.”

  “My God, it never stops, does it? Here we are over thirty years after Zane, and it still goes on…why?”

  “I think it’s genetic. In this line of work you have to study what makes these guys tick. Almost every time there were signs when they were young, you know, beating other kids, real antisocial behavior. Then it seems to take its natural course and moves into truly violent crime. I’ve seen it time after time. As painful as it is, look at Zane. That’s the way he started.”

  “So you’ve studied Zane’s past?”

  “Oh yes. You have to know your enemy Jonathan, how they think, act, feel. It’s the only way we’ll catch them.”

  Mike got him to the airport on time, and was right about the take off – scary. On the flight back Jonathan couldn’t help but be impressed by Mike and his family. Not only had they survived, but had excelled. Mike was now in pursuit of the very kind of evil that had, to a great extent, destroyed his life…one brave man.