Chapter Five

WIFE BEATER

Aaron and Rachel were married in a church in Salt Lake City the following month. A short honeymoon followed in Phoenix, Arizona. The following week, Aaron and Cole were eating lunch at their favorite hamburger joint.

“Picking up on what you were saying before your engagement and wedding, yes, I have some more plans. Are you and your new bride settled in enough to think about anything besides your new wife and work?”

Aaron almost shouted, but realized where they were sitting “I have been thinking a lot about what has happened over the last year. My life has really changed. What plans are you talking about?”

“A story came across my desk yesterday. It’s about a guy in West Valley who was arrested for beating and almost killing his wife. The police were called by neighbors who heard the yelling and then the screaming from the house. The police reported they’ve had repeated calls of domestic violence from this house. The wife was taken to the nearest hospital. The husband was arrested for carrying a concealed weapon and threatening the neighbors and the police officers.”

“Ok, what else?”

“The TV news had a picture of him as the police took him away. I’ve seen him camped next to where we go hunting. He’s an arrogant drunken slob. He is one of those hunters who take a rifle and a case of beer to go hunting. They party all night and then go hunting with a hangover. I was just thinking that if he shows up hunting where we camp again this year, we could arrange an accident to happen and that would be a good thing.”

“Are you suggesting shooting him,” asked Aaron incredulously?

“No the anti-hunting wackos don’t need any more hunters shot while hunting. I was thinking more of maybe a fall on his knife, or off of a cliff, or into a river? How about going hunting with us?”

“That’s a problem. My family and I are going hunting in a different area.”

“OK, I’ll play it by ear and see if the opportunity presents itself, if not we can work out something when we get back after the hunt.”

Cole and his brother, Ted, were camped in their regular spot. Hunting season started the next day. They were sitting by the fire enjoying the crackling fire and their companionship. They were talking about their plans for the next day when a truck pulled into the campground. It was the wife beater from West Valley and 2 other guys. They almost hit Cole’s truck and were laughing loudly as the wife beater and one other guy got out of their truck to guide the driver back into the next clearing. Each was holding a can of beer in his hand.

“Talk about how to ruin a good hunting trip,” said Ted.

“These are the kind of jerks that give hunting a bad name. They are the same bunch that was here last year. They’ll be stinking drunk tonight, sleep in tomorrow morning and miss the best time to be hunting…first light on opening day. I don’t think they care. It’s all about getting drunk, going out in the forest, getting drunk, carrying a high powered rifle and getting drunk. They probably wouldn’t know what to do with a deer if they shot one.”

The wife beater and friends were busy setting up camp; however they didn’t set up a tent. They pulled out some folding chairs, sleeping bags, cases of beer, a can of gas, some wood and settled down for some hard drinking. One of them threw some wood in the fire pit, poured some gas on it and threw a match. The explosion must have singed the wife beater’s hair, because he was yelling something at the one who threw the match. The other guy was having a wonderful time. Soon all were laughing and throwing can after empty beer can on the blazing fire.

Cole noted where the wife beater placed his sleeping bag. It was the farthest from the fire. An idea was germinating in his mind. They couldn’t hear most of what was being said in the wife beaters camp, but one of them said something, threw another empty can in the fire, and collapsed on his sleeping bag. The other 2 seemed dazed and followed suit. Wife beater got back up and walked into the trees. They could hear the sounds of the wife beater relieving himself. He then staggered back in the firelight and collapsed on the sleeping bag.

“Looks like the show is over, I think that I’ll turn in,” said Ted.

“Will you leave the door unzipped; I need to go take a leak. I’ll make sure the fire is out and join you.”

“Sure thing” as Ted unzipped the tent, and in just a few minutes was making those snorts and sawing noises that he was famous for.

Cole watched the fire burn itself out in wife beaters camp. When he was sure that Ted was asleep, he walked over to the wife beaters camp. The moon was putting out enough light to see almost as clearly as day. The 3 men were all completely out of it. Cole took a look around. These guys were all in a drunken stupor. ‘This opportunity may not come again,’ he whispered to himself. It was as if someone whispered in his ear and he repeated it out loud.

The wife beater was half way in his bag, laying face up, snoring loudly. His pillow was near by. Two unopened cases of beer were beside their truck. An open case was next to the fire pit. A couple of empty cases had been thrown on some nearby bushes. The fire was still smoking. Cole could not see any lights or other movement around the camping area or coming up the road.

Cole made his decision. He slipped his gloves on, took the pillow, and straddled the sleeping wife beater, sat down on his chest with his legs holding down his arms. He then quickly placed the pillow over wife beater’s mouth and pushed down as hard as he could. The wife beater struggled, but his legs were pinned in the sleeping bag, his arms were pinned by the weight of Cole and he couldn’t breath. Wife beater started to vomit as he suffocated. It was over in a minute or two. Cole got up and turned the pillow just enough to see that it was smeared with wife beaters vomit. He then grabbed a can of beer and poured it into wife beater’s open mouth, dumped the rest all over him, and forced the empty can into his right hand. He rolled wife beater face down on the pillow where it was smeared with vomit. He took a branch and brushed the ground where he had walked all the way back to the tent to erase his footprints. Then he went into the tent and crawled into his sleeping bag.

It was a long night for Cole. ‘What have I become? How can I, a law abiding, religious person kill like that? I have a new wife that I love more than life itself. I am risking everything I have killing this vermin. Tomorrow may turn nasty, a drunken hunter choking on his vomit and dying right next to our camp. If we had the same police investigators, it could be a problem. Not likely, this is in a different county.’ He thought of Jan and what she had went through in the past and how much he missed her. He thought about how he felt each time he made the decision to put a rabid dog out of its misery. ‘I feel like I could pick up my pickup with one hand each time I kill one of those slime buckets.’

The alarm went off just as Cole was drifting off to sleep. Their plans were to eat some energy bars, put on their hunting backpacks, and take their rifles up the trail to their favorite hunting spots. At first light, both Cole and Ted were standing exactly where they wanted to be. Cole had gone up the trail about a mile and then went up the canyon to the right; Ted had hiked to the left. Their rifles spoke almost at the same instant as both had spotted a nice 4 point buck foraging in the sagebrush as shooting light materialized. Both went over to their trophies to make sure the prime bucks were indeed dead.

“Was that you shooting,” came the question out of Cole’s radio?

“Yes, but I heard another shot, was that you?”

“Yep, I got a nice 4 point, how about you?”

“Me too, I’ll call you when I’m done field dressing it.”

An hour and a half later “I’m finished for now, how about you” blared the radio to Cole?

“I’ll be done in a shake. This old boy is too big to carry in one trip. I’m cutting him in half so I can take him down to the truck in 2 trips.”

“See you there,” said Cole.

One hour later, Cole and Ted were walking into the camp. Cole was carrying the head and front shoulders of his buck while Ted was carrying the hind quarters of his. A game warden was sitting there and there was no sign of the wife beaters camp.

The game warden looked like he had stepped direct from the Game Warden Fashion magazine. Not a hair was out of place. His pants and shirts had the military press look. He stood about 5 feet 5 inches tall in his elevator shoes and Cole’s first impression was ‘this guy has a bad case of Small Man Disease. It’s a fairly common disease for game wardens’

The game warden glared at Cole and Ted. He was sitting on the side of his truck. This effectively put him above 6 foot 4 inch tall Cole. He finally barked an order, “Put that animal on the tailgate where I can see it! “A nice animal, too bad for you I don’t see a tag on it!”

Cole showed him his license and the tag that had been placed on the horns of his buck.

Ted pulled out his license to show the game warden, but before he could say that his tag was on the horns of his deer, the game warden, visible disappointed that he couldn’t give them a heavy fine, unhappily said “good enough, did you know the people that were camped beside you?”

“No, they came in after we did last night,” volunteered Ted.

Cole said, “What happened to them, they were here when we left this morning?”

“Let me ask the questions! One of them died overnight. It looked like he vomited in his sleep and suffocated. When the others woke up they saw he was dead and called the sheriff’s office. Since I was closer, I came on over. The sheriff and ambulance just left. The rest of the party went out with him. I told the sheriff that I would get your identification in case he had any questions for you. How long will you be here?”

Cole said, “We’ll be leaving today. It’s too hot to hang the deer very long so we’ll need to take it home to process it.”

With that the game warden sat there glaring at them until they walked back to their camp, he then quickly jumped down and ran to the front door, got in his truck and left.

Cole watched him leave. “I haven’t seen a game warden that bad since the one we ran into 3 or 4 years ago. I wonder if it’s the same guy.”

“Probably is. How many of them could there be around like that. Do you believe those drunken idiots that were parked beside us last night? It doesn’t surprise me that one of them drank so much he died. I guess it serves him right! I can’t believe it, right beside us, a drunk died, I can’t believe it,” repeated Ted.

“Let’s hang the deer, rest for a little bit, have lunch, and hike back to get the other halves of our deer.”

It was almost dark when they finally arrived back to camp. This time there was a sheriff sitting there watching while 3 others were picking up stuff from the clearing where wife beater and friends had been camped. Obviously they were doing a crime scene scan seeing if there was any evidence of wrongdoing.

“Wondered where you guys were” said the sheriff. The game warden told me that you had a big buck, and I see it there hanging in the trees, but he didn’t tell me that you had 2 big bucks.”

“He assumed that we had got one deer and brought it in, while in fact we each had got one and brought in different halves. He didn’t ask if we had another deer back in the hills someplace, so we didn’t volunteer the information. I don’t want to be disrespectful, but some game wardens are arrogant pricks,” said Cole!

When the Sheriff quit laughing he said “you sure called that one right. This game warden is the worst that I’ve seen. He’ll be really pissed off when I ask him why he didn’t check both big bucks. I guess that I need to check both of your licenses and tags while I’m here.”

“Not a problem” said Ted as he pulled out his license and pointed out the tag on his buck’s horns. Cole did the same.

“Now about the guy that died last night, either of you know any of the group that was here?”

“No, like we told the game warden, we were camped here, 3 guys drove in about dusk, got out, proceeded to make a lot of noise and appeared to get stinking drunk and went to bed. We couldn’t get any sleep until it quieted down” reported Cole.

“Did you hear any strange or unusual noises during the night?”

“I heard a lot strange, weird snoring noises from my brother here and from over that direction, but nothing really unusual,” said Cole as he pointed to where wife beaters group had been parked.

“I didn’t hear anything”, said Ted.

“You make so much noise, I’m not surprised,” said Cole to Ted.

“The game warden gave me your names and phone numbers. I’ll be in touch if I need anything else. We’re out of here as soon as the investigation team finishes.”

Cole and Ted broke camp, loaded all the camping equipment and put the 2 identical deer racks on top, tied them down, and headed for home.

SHERIFF BRENT CALL

The TV news reporter with the standard anti-hunting agenda said “A deer hunter needlessly dies in the mountains east of Nephi. Sheriff Brent Call reports that it appears he died of natural causes. The case is under investigation. Final determination is awaiting autopsy report. Identification withheld until next of kin are notified.”

The newspaper did a front page story, again with an anti-hunting message, “Saturday a young man in the prime of life needlessly died in the mountains near Mount Nebo on his annual deer hunting trip. Identification withheld until the next of kin are notified.”

“Neither report told the true story. The young man and his 2 companions partied for hours drinking one beer after another until they collapsed in a drunken stupor. Maybe we should call the newspaper to tell them this piece of information,” said Ted. He and Cole talked about the standard news slant against anything to do with hunting, guns, or anything having to do with conservative values. Even in Utah, a conservative stronghold, the liberal flag burning wakos controlled most of the media. Talk radio being the only exception. Ted and Cole spend a lot of time complaining about this fact until they would finally change the subject and move on to less stressful subjects.

Jan asked Cole, “Did you see the report about the deer hunter who died? Was it close to where you and Ted were hunting?”

“Yes real close, in fact it was right next to us in the campground. These guys came in after we set up camp. They drank themselves into a stupor, but were real quiet when we left to go hunting an hour before first light. When we came back to camp with our deer, these guys were gone and the law enforcement people were there. It sounded like the guy that died, drank so much beer that he passed out, vomited and choked to death.” He skipped a few details like a pillow that stopped the wife beater from breathing.

Jan gave Cole a weird look, but seemed to accept his story and went on to tell Cole about the cute things Billy was doing. “He talks a mile a minute. I just wish he would learn to speak our language! A few words now and then are understandable, it’s so funny.”

Detective Rizzo pulled out his unmarked file folder. The news report about the wife beater in West Valley was on top. He pulled it out and stapled it to the news report about the same wife beater who had accidentally died while hunting a couple days after his arrest and release. Rizzo put them back in the unmarked folder, leaned back in his big chair and looked at Mount Olympus towering above the Salt Lake Valley. He smiled, ‘What am I going to do with you Cole?’

Sheriff Call looked over the report from the coroner.

CAUSE OF DEATH-asphyxiation caused by stomach contents obstructing the victims’ airway. Blood alcohol content was 1.6%.

He printed accidental death in his report. He wondered about the hunters who were camped next to this dead hunter. Something seemed a little out of place. ‘Were they telling him everything?’ He had a copy of the file on the dead guy showing that he was a criminal who abused his family on a regular basis. The hunters, Cole and Ted Taylor seemed like good upstanding citizens. ‘As far as I’m concerned this CASE IS CLOSED. One more rotten apple in the trash.’

Cole and Aaron were having lunch the next week, “tell me about it”, said Aaron. “I saw the news report about some poor guy who died while hunting.”

Cole told him exactly what happened.

Aaron said, “Wow, we, especially you, are really getting good at this. I’m sorry that I missed it.”

“It’s funny; I was waiting around to see if circumstances would develop where I could do my good deed, when everything just fell into place. It’s almost like some higher power is seeing to it that we take these human parasites out of their misery, or maybe we’re answering the prayers of those poor women who are being abused. I realize that we’re taking a terrible chance every time we do it, but it’s like killing a rabid dog. These human scum bags deserve to die.”

“What now?”

“Well,” said Cole, “I guess we keep watching for the next rabid dog that needs to be put out of its misery. How was your hunting trip?”

“We had a great time. Unlike you we didn’t have to work our butts off carrying body parts of some animal back to camp. We didn’t get a shot. We saw lots of does but nothing with horns. We didn’t see anything to shoot at, but enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Did you have any drunken slobs camped next to you?”

“Absolutely not, it was great.”