Robert Parker - Wilderness

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At 46, Aaron Newman was enjoying the good things in life – a good marriage, a good job – and he was in good shape himself. Then he saw the murder. A petty vicious killing that was to plunge him into an insane jungle of raw violence and fear, threatening and defiling the things he cared about.

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Steiger left the keys in the ignition, left the parking lights on, and got out of the car. He closed the door quietly and walked briskly back toward Newman's house. It was set back from the street, and the front yard was shadowed by old maple trees grown huge over several centuries.

He turned without any hesitation into the long driveway smelling of bark mulch and walked toward the side door of the house. The lights were on in the house, in most rooms. Upstairs and down. He took the Ruger out of his hip holster as he walked up the drive, and held it against his leg.

When Steiger reached the side door Hood stepped out of the shadowed bushes behind him and jacked a shell into the breech with the pump action of the shotgun. Steiger turned at the sound. The.44 still held against his right leg, his face was inquisitive.

"What the hell is this," he said.

Hood said, "Don't bullshit me, Jack. I saw you take the gun out coming up the drive." He held the shotgun steady on Steiger's middle. "Reach across with your left hand. Take the gun by the barrel. Hold it by the barrel and toss it with your left hand over here to my right. You do anything quick and I'll cut you in two." "You got the cannon," Steiger said. He tossed the gun left-handed and butt-first onto the bark mulch-covered driveway near Hood's right foot.

His face was still pleasant and quizzical.

With the shotgun steady still on Steiger, Hood felt with his foot for Steiger's gun in the driveway. When he found it he maneuvered it into position and then kicked it into the bushes with his heel. "Put your hands on top of your head," he said to Steiger. Steiger did, not clasping them together but resting the right lightly on top of the left.

Hood stepped closer to search Steiger for a gun. He held the shotgun against Steiger's neck as he patted him down on the left side, then he switched the shotgun from right hand to left so that he could search Steiger's other side. Steiger brought his right elbow around and hit Hood on the temple as the gun was in mid-switch. Hood staggered and dropped the shotgun.

Steiger bent down for it and Hood kneed him in the face. It straightened Steiger up but he had the shotgun. Hood lunged in against him, locking his arms around Steiger's. The shotgun was in Steiger's right hand but he couldn't turn it to bear on Hood. The muscles in Hood's back and shoulders swelled with effort as he clamped his arms tighter around Steiger, his balled right fist pressing into the small of Steiger's back, his left hand covering it, adding pressure. With his hands he pulled in and up, leaning his chest into Steiger, bending him back while keeping his arms pinned against him. Hood's neck thickened, the trapezius muscles bulged up at the base of his neck and across his shoulders. Steiger tried to use the shotgun butt against Hood's kidneys, but it was too awkward an angle to hurt. In his present position the shotgun was useless. He dropped it and locked his own hands behind Hood's back. Hood had arched forward in arching Steiger back and thus had an advantage in leverage. Steiger couldn't reverse it, he was bending farther back and it was harder to breathe.

He let go of Hood's back and brought his hands down under Hood's buttocks. He got hold and heaved back. Hood's feet came off the ground. His leverage was lost. Steiger was able to straighten his back and turn Hood toward the house. He tried to ram Hood against the cement stairs to the porch door but he couldn't and they both fell and rolled, locked in each other's embrace, fifteen feet down the driveway.

Hood released his hold as they rolled and came up on his feet under the huge old maple tree. Steiger came up opposite him. Steiger's gun was somewhere in the bushes. Hood's shotgun was fifteen feet away back up the driveway. Steiger hit Hood a sharp left-hand hook on the right cheek and followed with an overhand right that staggered Hood against the tree. He kicked at Hood's groin, but Hood karate-blocked it with his left forearm. Hood reached behind him with his right hand and brought out the bowie knife. It was dark but there was enough light filtered in from the street lamps to see the knife. Steiger backed away, Hood followed. Hood held the knife low in his right hand, sharpened side up, moving it back and forth in front of him. His knees were bent and he shuffled like a boxer, left foot always ahead of the right. Steiger, as he backed away, kept his hands out in front of him, overlapping the thumbs, making a V and aiming the crotch of the V at the bowie knife as it moved. Hood had both hands on the knife, ready to switch to either hand if Steiger went for one. They were in the shaded darkness under the big maple tree as they moved down the sweetsmelling bark-mulch driveway. A car went by on the street behind Steiger. Neither Hood nor Steiger knew. Both concentrated on the knife. Nothing else impinged, nothing else was real. Their faces were serious. Steiger took a head-jerking glance at his car parked in front of the next house. It was too far to run. The knife would catch him before he could get in and lock the door. He half-turned as if he would, and as Hood charged he gave him a head fake and dashed for the shotgun, past Hood, back up the driveway. Hood caught the back of his jacket as he went by. He half-turned him and drove the nine inch knife blade upward into Steiger's stomach, turned it at the end of the thrust, and pulled it toward him along the line of Steiger's rib cage.

Steiger made a soft sound, Hood pulled the knife free and slashed it back and across Steiger's throat. Steiger fell down and died on the bark mulch in silence.

CHAPTER 19.

"You mean the bastard is lying out there dead in the driveway, now?" Newman said. He wore a green velour bathrobe and no shoes.

Hood said, "Yes. We'll have to do something with him." Janet said, "There's that big roll of polyethylene in the shed. You could wrap him in that if he's messy." "I'll get it," Hood said. "You get dressed, Aaron, and help me." "I'll come too," Janet said. Hood looked at her for a moment and then went to the shed.

When Newman and his wife came out of the house Hood had spread a large sheet of polyethylene on the ground beside Steiger's body.

"Help me roll him onto it," he said.

Janet looked away but knelt down beside Hood. New man hesitated, then crouched down beside them. They rolled Steiger's body over, onto the polyethylene.

"You got some tape or something?" Hood said.

Newman said, "I'll get some." He got up quickly and went to the house.

Hood and Janet folded the polyethylene carefully around Steiger's body.

Janet kept her head averted all the time she worked, looking only obliquely at the corpse in front of her.

Newman came back with a large roll of gray duct tape. They taped the polyethylene wrapping around the body.

"We'll put it in my Bronco and take it someplace and dump it."

"Where?" Newman said.

"Wherever we can, away from here," Hood said. "You don't want to explain this to the cops."

"You think it's one of them?"

"I should think so. I figure they decided to hit you," Hood said. "I was afraid they might so I staked you out."

"It has to be," Janet said. "It's too huge a coincidence any other way."

"That means there may be another one coming."

"Not if we get to Karl first," Hood said. "If he's dead there's no reason to kill you."

"Unless they suspect me of doing it," Newman said. He felt sick and very weak. It was hard to keep his shoulders straight.

"Well, first we have to take care of this," Janet said. "I think we ought to put him in the trunk of his car and put the whole thing, car and body, where it won't be found." "The car," Hood said, "Jesus, I forgot about his car. Good you remembered, Janet."

"Where can we put it where no one will find it, where they'll just disappear?"

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