Robert Waggoner - John - The Senior Killer

After hanging up, Billy looked at his screen and saw the time was one am. He knew Brad was probably not sleeping and rang his room. Like agent Jones he picked up on the first ring and listened to what Billy had to say. He thought it a good idea and told him to stay in touch when in position. Also he would tell Nancy what the plan was to alert the other agents already in position. He hung up without another word and Billy could feel the stress flowing through the line. Billy lighted his forty something cigarette of the day and sat back blowing smoke rings in deep thought about what this dude’s disguise was for tomorrow’s gig.

Terry Adams woke as the daylight fought its way through the motel drapes. He stretched his arms and thought to himself what a good night sleep he had. He bounced out of bed and made for the shower. After a hot shower he dressed in his blue jeans, slip on penny loafers and a checkered long sleeve shirt with two pockets. He made sure his makeup and all that made him Terry Adams was in order before he left for breakfast. He motored downtown and parked the bike outside the local Denny’s restaurant. He parked the Harley next to the door as that is what would attract his victim, he hoped. He would hang around all day until his mark came by to talk bikes and then he would tell him that he had some pictures back in his room showing some old bikes that he restored. Of course the word was out about the serial killer and he would show the guy his license and all about where he lived not far from the 747 Boeing plant in Everett. If that didn’t work he would pull his little 22 hand gun and walk the guy behind the restaurant and do him there. As it turned out the unsuspecting old time Harley rider played his game.

Brad walked the streets along with he didn’t know how many other agents mixing in with the ever increasing people flocking to the festival. Mostly young people he noticed and not so many old people. Maybe the old folks decided to let this one go by as they were no doubt afraid of the killer still at large. About nine am Brad approached Denny’s and went in for a cup of tea and some breakfast He wasn’t hungry but realized he needed some fuel to face the long day ahead. He noticed the sleek Harley sitting near the front door as he walked in. Nancy was sitting by herself looking at some files drinking coffee. He walked up and asked if he could join her. She smiled up at him and told him she would love some company. Unknown to both of them sitting in the next booth was John the Senior Killer. He was just another middle aged man reading the paper drinking coffee.

Brad and Nancy talked about this and that and nothing really important. She told him all was in place and now it was the waiting that was the hardest. Brad was still disguised in his looks, but John when he saw him knew right away who it was. It was half way through Brad’s omelet when John got up to leave. He dropped his newspaper next to their booth and Brad reached down and picked it up, handed to him as the man said, “Sorry, but forgive me,” as he looked at his files on the table, “but I couldn’t but overhear your conversation about the serial killer. Are you law enforcement agents?”

“Yes we are and be careful out there today.”

“I will and hope you catch the guy soon. My parents are over eighty and they refuse to leave their house. I have to go shopping for them and do all their errands like the doctor and pharmacy. Things like that.” Brad was focusing intently on this guy, but nothing about him raised any special attention. He looked at his hands and they didn’t look like the hands he remembered from the pig farm. The guy moved off and they returned to their breakfast. John hopped onto this bike and went for a ride around town to show them he wasn’t loitering.

Mike wandered around town for hours waiting for someone to invite him for a killing. He bought some things for the kids and Julie. Anacortes was a town of culture. Art and artists were everywhere. A town bent upon culture and tourist dollars made the place attractive.

Wendy, agent Jones and Billy did the same as Mike. After a couple of hours of wandering around they hit the motels and bed and breakfast for a double check of guests coming or going. Check out time was usually by eleven or so and that is when they started from one end of town to the other. By four o’clock they had a complete list of guests. They sat in the ferry terminal going over the lists. First they checked off couples and anyone under the age of fifty. That left about a hundred of guests who were either checking in or staying for the next night and or until the weekend was over. Nothing they noticed was out of the ordinary or suspicious. Billy told them the Canadian ferry was due to leave at five thirty. Cars were driving onto the ferry as they looked out the window. A special roped off area let walk on passenger load while cars and an occasional truck drove onto the ferry. Billy had purchased three tickets for them in case they were needed. None of them wanted to use their ID to make the ferry staff nervous.

At around noon Terry Adams rode his bike back to Denny’s restaurant. He had a bite to eat and watched as people flocked in for lunch. The place was filling up and he looked for a likely mark. He could see his bike out front and when someone looked at it, he eyed them carefully. About the time he finished his sandwich he noticed a gray haired man stop and carefully look his bike over. Ah, he thought my man was here at last. He had a second cup of coffee and then left to hang around wiping his bike off waiting to see if the guy would stop and talk.

As he figured, the guy came out and told him what a fine scooter he had. The conversation went as John planned and they made an appointment for 4:30 that afternoon to look at John’s photo album at the San Juan Motel.

Brad met Nancy again at Denny’s for lunch and to see how it was going. She told him all was well and in place. Something was digging at the Brad brain. Walking since the parking lot where he had parked his car he saw the tail end of the meeting between the Harley rider and a tall gray haired man. The bike rider took off to the east and the other man walked back the opposite way. Nancy was asking him a question and finally he came back to the present and said, “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I was asking you how Sujin was doing.”

“She has a little morning sickness, but other than that, she is not happy not being here when, or if something comes down. Nancy do you have the list of motels and RV parks with you?”

“No, I left them in the trailer van. Is there something I should know about or help you with,” she asked with a very concerned look on her face. She knew if there was something on his mind it was important.

“Yes, I want to know if there is a guest or an RV that drives or rides a large Harley motorcycle. The license on the bike should be different than a car’s license.”

“I’ll check on that for you after lunch when I get back to the trailer,” she said.

Brad nodded and ate his vegetable soup and a stack of whole wheat toast. They left to go their separate ways and when Nancy got back to the trailer with full intentions of doing what Brad asked for when a problem arose with a road block outside of town. She looked at her watch and it was just after two pm. By the time she took care of a farmer who complained about the road being blocked and some other fires to put out it was close to four when she finally got back to locating the list of guests and in particular one with a registration license number for a motorcycle.

Brad meanwhile had an earpiece stuck in his ear waiting for Nancy’s call about the biker. Nothing else was going on and all was quiet on the airwaves too. Mike sat in the harbor watching the boats coming in and out and the crowds of people having a good time at a festival when his phone rang. He looked at his watch and it was just after four thirty.