Possession

The Red Toyota

1988

Ben Hastings sat down at his desk and put his hands behind his head, gently rocking as he chewed a flavorless piece of gum. It had been ten minutes since Chief Elliot had risen hastily from his seat and walked out the door, grumbling as the door slammed behind him. Maria had just come to the office and told Ben there was a call for a car wreck by the golf course. Ben had turned to her slowly, rotating his chair very deliberately, his hands on his head. She gave him a look.

"You OK?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied.

"You want to go help those people?"

"Where's Elliot at?"

"He's not answering. Probably at home for lunch."

Ben paused and then rose quickly, as if suddenly receiving a bolt of energy from the seat of the chair. He made a sarcastic kissing noise to wish Maria goodbye and walked out the door.

He wound around the rural road surrounding the golf course, thinking through the day. Chief Elliot had been frazzled, more than usual, and grumpier than he had been in some time. He had taken to leaving by eleven and disappearing until the early afternoon. As the only available officer during the day it left Elliot to deal with anything that came up.

It had been two years since he had been told to drop the case on the truck carrying stolen auto parts. He hadn't trusted Chief Brennen since. Ben kept his suspicions quiet but his eyes alert. Any time he happened by a Taylor's truck he watched it as if waiting for illicit wares to spill out of the bottom of it. He watched them at night from a distance, hoping to see something irrefutable he could take back to Elliot.

Elliot never asked about anything. He hadn't the slightest interest in what might be going on in there. And Ben knew if he was going to revive the issue he would have to be clear about what he had found.

He turned onto the dirt parking lot. One of the few cars sitting in the frost covered parking lot was a brown Pontiac with a large dent in the side. The driver's side door creaked open and a woman in an extra large red sweatshirt stepped out. Ben pulled up beside her.

"What happened, Jenny?" he asked as he pulled a hat on.

"Got hit," she replied, her voice bordering on anger. "I came out from cleaning the club house and a red toyota was pulling away from my car."

Ben looked around, his eyes wandering towards the golf cart garage where a few more carts were parked.

"Who was it?"

"I don't. If I knew, I'd tell you." Her face squinted against the cold, causing rolls of flesh to bunch up around her eyes and mouth.

"So some guy was out here playing golf and he hit and ran?"

"I don't know what he was doing out here."

"Can you let me into the club house?"

He made a call to look out for the red car while she unlocked the door. He hurried into the large, empty clubhouse and walked towards the back patio. The place was barely heated but it was warmer than the outside. He walked to the patio windows and looked out across the practice green to see if he could see anyone on the course.

"Who's playing golf on a day like this?"

"Few people play all year."

"Why? Who is that?" he asked, pointing to a distant figure.

"I think that's Charlie. He's about seventy but that don't stop him."

"Who else?"

"No one know. But there was a couple cars out here when I got here. Strange for it being winter. But I went inside to check up on some things and when I came out I saw that Toyota driving away in a huff."