The Wolf of Los Angeles

[Chapter 256: The Hunters of the Preserve]

Jeffrey City, Wyoming.

An old pickup truck rolled in from the woods and stopped in front of a restaurant proudly displaying a sign for steak and barbecue.

As autumn set in, the weather turned a bit chilly. Lokni, clad in a leather jacket, stepped out of the truck and walked into the restaurant, seeking a vacant table for a quick bite to eat.

Across the street, in a Ford Raptor, Garcia and Carlos kept a careful watch on the pickup.

Carlos said, "He just came out of the woods. Let's go talk to him; we heard from LA that he's heading back to San Francisco."

Garcia nodded in agreement. "We've dealt with him a few times. We finally secured his trust to help him find the killer of his family. We need to give him the information soon. He's been going out a lot lately to practice shooting, and he never has a target. His intentions are clear."

"Our situation is the same; we both have family that suffered," Carlos tightened his fist, struggling to control the fire of vengeance. "Revenge always fuels a fire within."

Garcia maintained a serious expression. "One day, we will make those responsible pay."

Campos sent these two because they knew how to handle such things.

...

Soon enough, Lokni exited the restaurant, carrying some homemade beef jerky from the owner. Although he had Native American heritage, he appeared to be of mixed descent, with a look that reminded Garcia of Dwayne Johnson.

Garcia waved him over. "Lokni, we've found some information on the case you entrusted us."

Lokni glanced in their direction, drove his truck over, and rolled down the window, noticing the two private investigators he had previously hired. "Did you get any results?"

Garcia replied, "Can we discuss it somewhere private?"

Lokni pointed down the road, driving south along the highway.

Garcia started his car, following behind.

...

Once they were out of Jeffrey City and not far down the road, Lokni's pickup veered off the highway and into the woods, taking a dirt path blanketed with leaves, turning westward.

In the Ford Raptor, Carlos, sitting in the passenger seat, pulled out his handgun for a quick check of the magazine. Given their experiences, they naturally considered personal safety in such a secluded area.

The old pickup truck didn't go far before it stopped by a lake.

Lokni jumped out of his truck and hopped onto a rock at the water's edge, waving towards the Ford Raptor.

Garcia parked and grabbed a bag, walking over alongside Carlos.

Sitting on the rock, Lokni recalled their last meeting. "Did you two private detectives find out who was behind the murders of my family?"

Garcia hopped onto the rock across from him and handed over the bag. "Everything's in here. It took a lot of effort and money to track this down."

"I didn't bring cash; all I can offer is this," Lokni said, reaching into his pocket and tossing two coins at Garcia. "These are antiques, worth over ten thousand dollars each."

He quickly added, "I'll get you cash later."

Garcia picked them up and held them up to the sun, realizing he didn't recognize the coins, but they appeared to be some type of European antique.

He tossed one to Carlos.

Carlos examined it closely, confirming it was gold, even if he didn't recognize the specific type.

Lokni opened the bag and pulled out some documents, scanning through them.

...

The first page mentioned the name of the company that was exploring mining rights. He recalled his trip back from Denver, where his father mentioned this company had obtained rights on the preserve.

It had since been investigated by the FBI due to a case involving multiple deaths related to the preserve, ultimately leading to the company's bankruptcy.

Although Lokni had been investigating this company, his previous job as a hunting guide didn't afford him much in the way of resources or influence. Even the preserve's officers were reluctant to pursue inquiries into matters he had raised, leading to dead ends time after time.

The two private detectives had taken on the case of a pair of siblings who died here, and he had taken the opportunity to solicit their help.

He continued flipping through the documents, which detailed the shareholders of the exploration company. The backers included the BlackRock Wyoming division, which had employed people to establish connections between the government and the preserve's management, facilitating the mining company's acquisition.

This person was identified as Douglas Coster, the former president of BlackRock Wyoming, who had since moved on to other states.

The records indicated that he was the decision-maker for the exploratory project and should have been held accountable for the case. Yet, the head of the mining company took the blame while Coster faced no consequences for his involvement -- even advancing his career to California.

Flipping further, Lokni found Coster's photo and information, including his current location at the BlackRock office in San Francisco in the Bay Area's Silicon Valley.

There were further documents indicating insufficient evidence in judicial terms but pointing to Coster as the main culprit in the eyes of the victims.

...

As Lokni finished reviewing everything, he carved the name Douglas Coster into his memory.

He turned to Garcia. "Is everything you've investigated true?"

"How could I possibly fake this? Do you think it looks like a falsehood?" Garcia leaned in closer, whispering, "I spent a lot of money to get this information through connections within the FBI."

He held the coins up. "Buddy, you have no idea how greedy the FBI can be -- you've at least seen it in movies, right? This is not enough."

Lokni said, "If your findings turn out to be legitimate, I'll pay you the rest of the fee; I have the money."

Though his sister had been classified as a missing person without any compensation, the bodies of his parents found at the mining company's dumping ground garnered him a hefty payout.

That money was enough for him to do many things.

Garcia pointed at the bag. "Did you notice the letter mentioning your preserve's sheriff? You know him, right? Grab him, and he'll spill everything."

Lokni replied, "I can't manage him alone. How about you assist me? Money isn't a problem; given your investigation, you should know I received a substantial sum."

Garcia looked uneasy. "Dealing with the preserve's sheriff poses a significant risk."

Having worked in a big city like Denver, Lokni understood how to persuade others. "I'll offer more."

Garcia responded, "The job of private detectives always requires taking risks."

Carlos shot his partner a disdainful look.

For the sake of his family, Lokni, having returned from Denver, couldn't afford to wait any longer.

He said, "You two wait at Jeffrey's restaurant for me; I'll be back in a flash."

"Sure thing." Garcia hopped down from the rock, calling to Carlos as they headed back to their car.

...

As the Ford Raptor roared to life and turned around to leave, Lokni secured the bag and returned to the preserve, retrieving money from one of the houses before heading back to Jeffrey City.

He stepped outside the restaurant and made a phone call.

Garcia and Carlos emerged from the restaurant, climbing into his truck.

Lokni pulled out the cash bag and handed it to them.

Garcia opened it, checking the authenticity, counting just enough to satisfy himself before passing it to Carlos.

Lokni exclaimed, "You guys need to change clothes; I'm taking you into the preserve."

He dug through the back seat, pulling out several outfits for them to choose from.

Garcia and Carlos had taken makeup classes while in Los Angeles, where Campos had hired professional experts to teach them.

They quickly changed into the clothes, dyed their hair black, and donned fake mustaches as they followed Lokni into the preserve, arriving near the preserve's police station.

...

The preserve's police station was set up independently, with officers consisting only of preserve personnel.

The elderly sheriff, Graham, who had seen over sixty, was a well-respected figure with real power in the area.

After his shift, he hopped into a patrol car, whistling as he drove home.

The environment of the preserve was rough, characterized by barren mountains, and the population had dwindled over the years, leading to even sparser living conditions than the Wyoming average.

After rounding a hill, Sheriff Graham spotted a rusty pickup parked up ahead, with a young local resident squatting beside a tire.

Seeing the approach of a vehicle, the grease-covered young man stood and waved at the patrol car.

Graham stopped and asked, "What's wrong?"

Lokni chimed in, "A flat tire; I didn't bring a jack."

"You youngsters." Recognizing the local accent, Graham exited the car and opened the trunk for a jack.

Hidden behind some nearby rocks, Garcia and Carlos crept up, with the former pressing his gun against Graham's head. "Don't move, or my gun might go off."

Graham felt the gun's pressure against his head and quickly raised his hands. "You can take what you want, just don't hurt me, kids."

Garcia pulled his hands behind his back, tying them up with zip ties.

To be safe, he secured him three times over.

Carlos patted him down, retrieving his handgun, handcuffs, and pepper spray, shoving Graham with gloved hands. "Get in the car."

The three got into the vehicle, with Lokni leading the way as they exited the preserve as fast as they could.

...

When they reached the lake area, the patrol car drove straight into the water. Garcia dismantled Graham's phone, removing the battery and SIM card, throwing them into the lake to ensure it wouldn't be found anytime soon.

Lokni then dragged Graham away for solitary questioning.

In the forest, screams echoed occasionally.

Lokni, who had served as a guide for a hunting company, realized he had killed more animals than he could count.

The screams waned, gradually diminishing into groans, and before long, there was silence.

Lokni emerged by the lake, a bloodied hunting knife in hand, rinsing it off. "He talked; what you researched is valid."

Garcia asked, "What about him?"

"Accidentally killed him," Lokni stated matter-of-factly.

Garcia advised, "You'd better handle the body properly."

"Help me toss him in the lake," Lokni urged, wanting to pull both men to the water's edge. "I'll pay you more if you accompany me to San Francisco."

*****

https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.