Dan Whyte: And Justice for All

By Ken Lownds

Ken and Tiffany Lownds: Dan Whyte ~And Justice for All.There are those who believe that they are above the law. There are also those, like Dan Whyte, who believe otherwise and are willing to prove it. When a pedophile goes after one of his granddaughters, Dan starts an extermination of the unsavory element in his neighborhood. Between his cleansings, he goes to Tombstone to lay low and meets a pretty bar owner, who, along with her friend and partner, lost their sisters nearly 40 years before to a child molester. Once the FBI is called in, retiring Agent Josephine Torres finds herself drawn to Tombstone not just to find out about the lost siblings, but to find love and also to find the one she knows is responsible for killing several men. Will Dan finish what he started, or will the FBI get their man?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ken Lownds
• Release date: Dec 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310313936

Ken Lownds

About the authorGrowing up dyslexic made him hate reading, let alone writing. Going through his first divorce had him begin writing poetry, and from there he started reading and writing more. He wrote his first book in five weeks while being laid off from his job for six months, and his second, this book, also took five weeks to write. The third, a prequel to the first, took four years to write.He spent nearly twenty years in the military, in such jobs as radio operator, military police officer, firefighter/EMT/hazardous materials technician, combat lifesaver, air cargo specialist, and dump truck driver. Civilian jobs included fast food, television as a studio camera operator and a master control operator, driver of just about everything, ending up with school bus driver, actor, 1880's reenactor, and too many more jobs than can be listed here.Being married and divorced three times made him realize that he has absolutely no idea how women think, so when he needed to have the ladies in the novel say or do something, he called his daughter and had her enlighten him.He currently lives somewhere between Dragoon, Cochise, and Pearce/Sunsites, Az with his catahoula, blue heeler, appaloosa, and quarterhorse.

Book preview

DAN WHYTE:

AND JUSTICE FOR ALL

AN ADVENTURE NOVEL

Ken and Tiffany Lownds

The Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2015 Ken Lownds

Smashwords License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. It may not be resold or given away. If you would like to share this ebook, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you want to share it. If you're reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, please return to smashwords and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

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Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction, a product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance or similarity to any actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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Cover photo by Ken Lownds

Formatting by Debora Lewis arenapublishing.org

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To Harvey Stanbrough, whose seminars taught me that good enough isn't, and to Debbie Lewis, without whose efforts my books would still be stuck in my computer. Thank you both.

DEDICATION

To those who believe in me for doing so,

and for those who didn't

for making me work harder to prove you wrong.

Table of Contents

Dan Whyte: Justice for All

Another book by Ken and Tiffany Lownds

About the Author

DAN WHYTE:

AND JUSTICE FOR ALL

I should lay low for a while, just in case. Dan Whyte told his daughter, Julie, as he saddled one of his two horses. The other stood nearby and already had a full pack saddle on it. I’ll be close. Go to our camping area and light a small fire to let me know you’re there if you need anything.

Dad, just call the police and tell them what happened. Julie knew her father was not in the best of health, and that this might cause irreparable harm to him.

I killed a child molester that was going after one of your kids. The law makes what I did wrong, even though it was the right thing to do. I’d rather do the right thing than the legal thing, which most people—especially cops—wouldn’t understand. He finished and stepped into the saddle before turning west toward the Silverbell Mountains. I’ll leave any messages by the rocks at the cutoff before the road to the campground. You know where to leave my meds and any supplies, or I'll swing by to get them as I need them.

I still say you should tell the police. Julie stood there looking at her father, hoping. You haven’t run from anything before. Why are you starting now? Besides, they might not even find him, and if they do, they'll probably think he ran into a bunch of illegals.

That sick son of a bitch was just the first victim in a plague on child molesters. It’s been shown that these psychos cannot stop doing what they do, and the idiots in charge of keeping us safe set them free to continue hurting innocents. He looked at her for a moment. Time to let them know that they need to change their ways or find out if there really is a God.

Once comfortably seated, he turned back. My disability checks come in on the first. You have my card and pin number. I’ll check the message rock every few days. Oh, try to save some out of my checks, just in case. Use what you need, though. He smiled and nodded. Be careful. Dan turned and slowly headed west.

I was going to tell you the same thing. She heard him chuckle as he rode away. She turned and went inside the gate, knowing she had to get ready to pick up her kids from school. She turned one last time, but he was around a corner and out of sight.

As he rode slowly toward the towering Silverbell Mountains, he thought about things. Yes, he had killed a man, but the man was trying to hurt his grandchild. Maybe the county attorney would chalk that up to defense of a minor, but they would not look at it the same way after he killed all of the pedophiles in the area, even though it was, at least in Dan’s mind, merely extending the same protection to every child and parent in this small piece of Pima County, Arizona.

He had been roaming these mountains for the better part of the last two decades, and he knew them well. He had already been stockpiling supplies in some of the caves and abandoned mines that dotted the area since he had discovered them.

The weight of the pistol on his hip was comfortable, and comforting. The rifle in the saddle scabbard was a match to it, both in the forty-five Long Colt caliber. He had been camping and hunting since he was six, and in the intervening forty plus years he had learned how to survive anywhere for any length of time, so he knew he was ready. Nearly twenty years in the military didn’t hurt, nor did his few years as a mountain man after his medical discharge.

He got to the first cave just as the sun set over the Tucson area, but on the east side of the mountains where the cave and mine entrances were, it had been fairly dark for over an hour. He got the horses unsaddled and bedded down, then he made the several trips necessary to bring his gear to the abandoned mine about a quarter of a mile away and several hundred feet above the cave he used for the horses. Inside the mine he could light a small fire near the vertical air shaft that sat toward the middle of the cavern, and the smoke would travel up through a huge clump of bushes at the top of the hill that would break it up so no one could see it. It would also be far enough back, even without the bend several yards in, so that the firelight could not be seen from the mine entrance.

With the last load he put up the metal and thorn bush cover across the entrance of the cave to keep any predators away from the horses. The cave had a natural catch for water, and he had been bringing it up in his truck since he first discovered the caves and mines. He had also brought up any and everything he could think of to help if he decided he needed to bug out, to get away quickly. That time had come as he made the decision to let the predators know that there was something worse than them out there.

Once everything was inside, Dan looked at the cave entrance below from the opening to the mine. He couldn’t tell that there was anything there, but it was too dark to be sure. He’d have to check again once the sun was up to see if anything looked out of the ordinary. He went to the fire pit and lit the kindling with a strike anywhere match, liking them far more than the strike on box matches, and they lasted longer than a lighter would. Still, he thought, any of those was far better than trying to rub two sticks together. Now that was a pain!

With dinner cooking, which was beef stew as it was the first thing he pulled off of the shelf, he unloaded the packs and saddle bags. There were plenty of shelves and storage areas, as he had been coming up here for years. He was less than half done when dinner finished cooking, so he put off the rest of the unloading until after he ate.

He was sopping up the leftover gravy with some bread when he heard coyotes calling to each other in the distance, and he smiled. However messed up the human world might become, nature let you know that it would continue, no matter what.

Dan wasn’t worried about coyotes or javelina bothering the horses, but a mountain lion might be a problem. He had seen some cat tracks, but they were small enough to be bobcat. At least he hoped they were. He knew that there were big cats in these mountains, but trying to go after two full grown horses was more than any one cat would want to try. At least he hoped so.

He went to ensure that the light from the fire could not be seen from outside the mine. Satisfied, he returned to finish up for the night.

As the fire died down, he put his bed together. His mattress was from his RV, an ex-military M820 expando-van which was now at Julie’s place. Under the mattress was a storage frame from the same vehicle. A propane/12 volt/120 volt refrigerator was in there, as well. The temperature inside the cave was around seventy degrees all of the time, he knew, as he had checked over the years. Not cold enough to keep eggs or some other things for long, but good enough for most foodstuffs. The fridge would do for those things that had to be kept cold. Food poisoning would not be fun.

The storage lockers were all made of metal, which kept the rodents out. He pulled his clothes off and rolled up on the bed and discovered that he hurt all over and was thankful that he had thought to stock up on his pain killers. He took one, along with a shot of blackberry brandy, and fell asleep almost immediately.

He woke several times to the footfalls of the small creatures that shared his dwelling, and morning brought him awake with major pain in his hips and knees. He wasn’t used to such hard work over a short period of time, but he soon would be. He rose, as usual, before dawn and got the fire going. He now stood at the mine entrance, back far enough that the newly risen sun was not directly in his eyes, drinking a cup of hot chocolate. He would get the horses fed and watered before he ate, but the steaming cup of cocoa in his hand on a cool morning was something that had become a welcome necessity over the years.

He brought a pair of binoculars up to his face, a set of Barska that were the only full sized ones he ever had that fit his eyes. He had a small pair of Steiner's that did the same, but they weren't as powerful. He scanned the area, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Having been here so many times in the past, he knew where every rock, bush, tree, and trail was and how they should look. Being this far back in the shadows of the mine also ensured that the sun would not reflect off of the lenses, nor would it blind him.

He checked the trail leading from the mine to the cave, but the whole of it was rock, and he had made sure to clear it of any smaller stones or pebbles that a good tracker could see had been rolled by a careless footstep. There was nothing.

He went back to the fire, making sure, as he did every time he neared, that there wasn't anything close enough for a straying ember to catch. He left the Long Colt hanging near the bed and slid his .45 auto onto his belt. It was a Safari frame modeled after the famous Colt 1911A1. The 1911 was the pistol he had used as a military police officer, and the Safari frame fit his hand as if made for it. Two spare magazines went into their holder on his left hip, and a long, sharp sheath knife rode next to them.

He took his time getting to the cave where the horses waited. This way he could watch and listen more closely, and the sun felt good. He had always liked the warmth and the inner peace the sun brought him. He loved clouds and rain, as well, but the sun just made things… right.

He reached the cave and tended the horses. He had stocked up on hay and it should keep inside the cave, but apples and carrots would have to be replenished frequently. He was glad that he had kept Julie informed of things. She would do what Dan needed done while he was away. In the event that something happened to him, she could make it look like he was alive until she died, if necessary. They had it prearranged, however, that if she did not hear from him for two months, she should start looking for him.

The horses were fed and watered. He cleaned the horse biscuits out of the cave and then checked to make sure everything was as it should be. No creepy crawlies or other nasties sharing the cave that could harm the horses were found. He curried them and then headed up to the mine after securing the makeshift gate.

Once back in the mine, he checked out the rest of the tunnels. He had done it several times before, but not recently. He had found a couple of old, broken lanterns and some other things that the local residents had deemed unpalatable, but nothing that he would consider useful. The rest of the day was spent setting up the propane tanks and solar panels, putting the wires inside of metal conduits so the insulation wouldn’t get chewed. The fridge was set to propane and fired up.

Tomorrow he would ride in to the Minit Market a few miles to the east, not far from Julie’s place, and get some things that needed to be cold, but he was going to make sure that the fridge worked before spending money. The only problem was that he didn’t want to move to and from this area any more than he absolutely had to. Dan felt that it was early enough that he didn’t really have to worry. He didn’t even know if they were looking for him or not, as he hadn’t heard anything, but it was better to not take chances.

He hadn’t left much in the way of evidence, but like his M.P. instructor had told him, the police can make a thousand mistakes. The bad guy cannot make any, and they all make at least one. Thank you, Sergeant First Class MacGuinn.

Dan reached over and took the survival radio out of the locker and cranked the hand generator. He turned it to a local a.m. news channel, but there was nothing on his activities. Not unexpected, as it had been only a short time, and the local detectives were not much on ambition. Dan had been burglarized over a dozen times, and with each instance, the case was closed in a month or less. Closed, as in solved, instead of cold, as in unsolved and no longer of enough interest to continue. Eventually, he stopped calling when he got ripped off. Dan had little in the way of good feelings for the detectives.

The deputies that showed up and took the reports he had nothing but respect for, as they put their lives on the line day in and day out. Those few others, he was sure, made their fifty grand a year, which they probably spent at the local donut house and did little else. Thinking about it in that way made him feel little better.

The radio died after about an hour, but there had been no mention of anything Dan considered important. He thought about his next steps as he cleaned the mine.

He wondered about the value of keeping the horses here. Julie could easily bring him out with his Toyota Land Cruiser, but if they did it that way, he would be left on foot. If he just took one horse back, it would be difficult for the other, as horses are herd animals and don’t like being alone. The two horses had been together almost all their lives, and they knew each other well. He wished that there was an abundance of grasses in this, the Sonora desert. If horses could eat sand, rock, or cactus, there wouldn’t be a problem. Unfortunately, they could not.

Dan stood at the mine entrance after feeding the horses one morning as he watched a Border Patrol truck head west past his spot. He shook his head. What border are they patrolling?The slowly rising dust cloud was soon the only thing visible. Before long it would be too bright to see much as the sun rose, but he loved watching the lights at night as they stretched out across the valley to the Catalina Mountains in the east, and past them as Tucson sprawled on by to the south and east.

There would soon be snow on the Catalina Mountains, and quail season was about to start. He had been hunting dove since that season opened a few weeks ago, but he preferred the less gamey taste of quail. He refused to eat rabbit at this altitude at any time of year. There was too much of a chance of worms or parasites to make rabbit worth the risk, unless starvation was coming, but the dove, quail, canned goods and the refrigerator should take care of that.

The first several days had passed and nothing interesting was happening on the news. Dan had to go from shotgun to rifle to get dove. They seemed to know his intentions now and would not come near enough for the twelve gauge. Thankfully, he had a scoped .22 that nearly doubled the hunting range. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to break out the high powered 30-06. Not only was the ammunition much more expensive, the noise factor was exponentially increased. He thought about buying a pellet or BB gun so he could save on ammunition.

He had eggs, bacon, butter, orange juice, and a few dove in the refrigerator, as well as rice, potatoes, carrots, and some local foods to keep him going. He was really looking forward to quail season! The two things that he had thought more than once about bringing, but was grateful to have now, were his books and his laptop. The laptop and Wi-Fi hotspot ran for hours off a deep cycle battery and a solar panel, and the books were varied and wonderful at breaking up the boredom.

He also went on reconnaissance missions to check on the other three pedophiles that soiled the neighborhood. He still could not fathom how lawmakers could force people to live near vermin who could not help but prey on children. By taking these four out of this area, not only would others like them be wary of coming here, but every parent would have just one less thing to worry about while raising their kids. That was good enough for Dan.

His own daughters had been violated by their stepfather, and when the girls told their mother, she stayed with him. He was the first, several years ago, and the scariest. Dan had had to drive to the next state, using cash for everything, and found a long, sharp piece of metal from a construction site near where he had stabbed the stepfather. He looked at the man who hurt his children and asked how it felt to be a victim. The other man could not answer, as his diaphragm had been ripped from the thrust of the makeshift knife, making breathing impossible. All he could do is look at the father of the girls he had violated, knowing he had made the biggest mistake of his life. Dan took the man’s watch, wallet and rings to make it look like a mugging.

The second, just a few days ago, was easier. Dan had gone to the school to pick up the grand-kids when he saw this one trying to coax the youngest into his car. The two older kids came to her rescue. Dan got the license number and followed the creep home. He had received a letter from the sheriff’s department a few weeks before with the guy’s picture and address, along with other parasites that lived in the area. Someone had to do something, and all the lawmakers were going to do is warn the citizens that a new threat was in their neighborhood, and that they could do nothing other than accept it. Dan thought otherwise.

Dan had seen the man in action and knew he would not stop. He flattened two of the man's tires and then offered him a ride. The knife went between the ribs and shredded the predator’s heart with just a few beats. A short drive to an area known to be frequented by illegal immigrants, and it looked like he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe the coyotes—the four legged ones—would have a feast.

The ‘Cruiser seat was plastic and easily replaced. The predator didn’t move as his heart turned to jelly, so there wasn’t much blood, and the look of surprise was what Dan could imagine being on the faces of the children that had been preyed upon by this monster.

Some would call it murder. Dan called it justice. Who could say for sure?

Dan had five bricks of .22, or twenty-seven hundred and fifty rounds, and had shot expert the entire length of his eighteen-plus year military career. He also had his reloading equipment for the rest of his weapons. He was better armed than some police departments. He would not, however, harm an officer of the law, having been one himself. Unless, of course, that officer strayed across the line. Then he or she was no longer a cop, but one of THEM.

He finished the drink and went back into the mine to wash the cup, then he brought out the maps he had. Not the hopefully correct ones from the internet, but the satellite images from NASA that he was able to get. He looked at them closely, checking for the easiest and quickest ways in and out of the target areas. He had decided to get several different magnifications so he could see the area from different perspectives. Having lived here as long as he had, and having been an outdoorsman his entire life, gave him a unique understanding and ample abilities to be able to survive just about anywhere. Rule number one was to know your surroundings as well as you knew yourself.

He pored over the maps until it was too dark to see before going to take care of the horses, then came back to get some food for himself while checking and rechecking the maps and pictures by lantern light. The maps were more or less homemade, with Dan putting a clear map copy over the photos that had an equal magnification.

He would have to take the horses to within a half mile of the target, but that was easy considering they were backed up against hundreds of miles of open range. Dan decided to head down and watch the target— he was no longer a man, and definitely not human as far as Dan was concerned— for at least a week to get to know the creature’s patterns and intricacies. A month would be better, but he didn’t know how much time he had to work with. Just because there had been no word on the news didn't mean the cops weren't already looking for him.

He rode to a spot where the ground was hard so that fewer footprints could be seen. Dismounting, he removed a spotting scope from the saddlebags and set it up. From a high point he watched traffic patterns, saw the neighbors come and go, saw the target go about his day as if he were nothing more than just another member of the populace.

Dan started wondering. Maybe he should give these men the benefit of doubt. Maybe they had changed, maybe they did want to just fit in and live their lives. Maybe he should just watch and see if they went back to their old ways, or if they really had changed. He kept watching.

The man’s computer was set up on his kitchen table. Dan watched as he turned it on and sat at the table with a cup in his left hand. He set the cup aside after taking a sip, then settled in to do whatever it was that he was doing.

Dan had to move to see what was on the computer screen, but was soon peering through the spotting scope at the kitchen. He saw that the computer had just the power cord going to it, so either the target was never online, or he had some kind of wireless connection.

Dan bet on the latter. He moved closer to try to get a look at what was catching the interest of the man inside. He decided to