Chapter 28: The Fairlake Street

Virginia Kelly, assistant to the news anchor Kaleen Webber, stood with George, the 40-year-old cameraman, on Main Street in Fairlake, West Virginia. The town was bustling with Halloween festivities and the 10th annual Mountain Man Music Festival. The evening was lively with children and adults dressed in various costumes, the air filled with laughter and music.

George grumbled, checking his watch. "Where the hell is she?"

Virginia, holding her phone to her ear, replied with frustration, "I've been calling her cell for the last hour. She's not picking up."

"Freaking diva. I hate talent," George muttered under his breath. He then turned to Virginia, his face serious. "You're going to have to fill in."

"What? No, I can't." Virginia protested, shaking her head.

George's eyes bore into hers, his tone firm. "You can and you will. No one goes to dead air on my watch."

Virginia took a deep breath, nodding reluctantly. "Okay."

George adjusted the camera on its tripod, ensuring it was focused and ready. He stepped back, signaling to Virginia. "Ready in 1, 2, 3. Ready."

Virginia stood in front of the camera, her demeanor professional. She began, "Here we are on Main Street in the town of Fairlake, West Virginia. The kids are out for Halloween in full force... but…"

She paused, looking around at the festive scene. Children dressed as ghosts, witches, and superheroes ran around collecting candy. Adults in more elaborate costumes mingled, enjoying the music and food stalls set up along the street. "...they're joined by a bunch of hillbillies for the 10th annual Mountain Man Music Festival."

She continued, "So whether you're dressed as a ghost, a witch, or a hillbilly, everyone is sure to have a happy Halloween with some great music to top it all off."

As she scanned the crowd, she spotted a familiar face—Mr. Albert Patterson, standing near a food stall. His striking red hair and eyes made him stand out, though Virginia didn't know he was actually Alpha in disguise. She decided to seize the opportunity for an impromptu interview.

Virginia approached him with a professional smile. "Mr. Albert!"

Alpha turned towards her, his red eyes glinting under the streetlights. He smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "Oh, you're from the news, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Albert. So, um, can we interview you today? Just a few questions?" Virginia asked, maintaining her composed exterior.

Alpha nodded graciously. "Yeah, sure."

Virginia turned back to the camera. "We have here Mr. Albert. Many of you recognize him from our morning segment where we interviewed him. So..."

She turned to Alpha, holding the microphone up to him. "Mr. Albert, what is your outfit for today?"

Alpha glanced down at his attire—a well-tailored Herringbone suit. "Nothing special, just a normal Herringbone suit."

Virginia couldn't help but gulp, taken aback by Alpha's attractive appearance. "So, um, Mr. Albert, your suit—is there something special about it? Like the costumes people are wearing today?"

Alpha's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Yep, there is. It's what you'd call a serial killer costume... but only a few people recognize this face and this suit for how special they really are."

His smirk sent a shiver down Virginia's spine, but she managed to chuckle nervously. "O-Okay, great then."

Alpha laughed lightly. "I'm just joking, Ms...?"

"Virginia. Call me Ms. Virginia."

Alpha nodded. "Ms. Virginia."

Virginia turned back to the camera, wrapping up the segment. "Thank you, Mr. Albert." She nodded at Alpha, who gave a charming smile in return.

Looking into the camera once more, Virginia concluded, "That's all for now. I am Virginia Kelly from Live Action News." She signaled to George to cut the feed, and the camera light went off.

Virginia exhaled deeply, relieved the segment was over. Alpha gave her one last smirk before blending back into the crowd, his presence lingering in Virginia's mind as she and George packed up their equipment.

........

Meanwhile, Julian Jones, Gus McKaley, Lita Marquez, and Cruz Wilson walked down the dimly lit corridor of the Fairlake Motel. Sheriff Angela had booked them a room, and they were looking for Room 3.

Julian, leading the way, glanced at the numbers on the doors. The sound of their footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway.

"Is this it?" Gus asked, his voice low, as they approached a door.

Julian stopped and pointed. "Oh, 3. This is it."

Cruz looked at the door, a bit relieved. "It looks all right."

Julian nodded, trying to keep the mood light. "Nice."

Lita smiled, nudging Gus. "This is our bed, Gus."

Gus grinned, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. Let's just get inside."

Julian inserted the key and turned it, opening the door to reveal a modest but clean room. The room had two queen-sized beds with floral bedspreads, a small table with two chairs, and a TV mounted on the wall.

They stepped inside, dropping their bags by the door. Cruz immediately went to the bed closest to the window and sat down, exhaling deeply. "I just can't believe we're here. This is so surreal."

Lita joined her, placing a comforting hand on Cruz's shoulder. "It'll be okay. We'll figure this out."

Gus plopped down on the other bed, stretching out. "At least it's better than those cells."

Julian closed the door and leaned against it, scanning the room. "We need to stay low and figure out our next steps. Sheriff said not to leave town, but we need to clear our names."

.......

Meanwhile Inside, Fairlake Sheriff Station. Sheriff Angela Carter sat at her desk, the hum of her computer the only sound in the quiet office. She was deep into an investigation, fingers flying over the keyboard as she pulled up information on the old man they had in custody.

Her eyes scanned the screen, narrowing as she read the details. "Seems like you have been running for quite some time." she muttered, her voice laced with satisfaction. She leaned back in her chair, a smirk forming on her lips. "Well, your running just ended."

She glanced towards the holding cells at the back of the station, where Maynard Odets, a grizzled man with a sinister aura, sat behind bars. "There's no statute of limitations for murder." she added

Maynard, leaning casually against the bars of his cell, met her gaze with a smirk of his own. "You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, do you?" he taunted, his voice rough and mocking.

Angela, unfazed, continued to type. "A lot of paperwork, I suspect." she replied dryly. She reached for the telephone on her desk, dialing the number for the U.S. Marshals' office. The phone rang a few times before a voice answered.

"Hello, this is the U.S. Marshals' office. How may I help you?" a man's voice came through the receiver.

Angela pressed the telephone to her ear, her eyes still on Maynard. "Yeah, this is Sheriff Carter in Fairlake. I have a fugitive for you. He's been on the run for 30 years."

"What's his name?" the man asked.

"Maynard Odets. Case number 316165." she replied, her tone steady and professional.

Maynard's smirk widened, clearly enjoying the attention.

"We can have transport there by 10 a.m." the man on the phone informed her.

"Yeah, that will be fine," Angela said. "Thank you." She hung up the telephone and stood, making her way to Maynard's cell. "The Marshals will be here to pick you up in the morning." she informed him, her voice firm.

Maynard chuckled darkly. "You won't live that long."

Angela met his gaze without flinching. "I highly doubt that." she said, turning on her heel and walking back to her desk.

In a nearby cell, Adam Wilson and Porter Harmss observed the exchange with keen interest. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and they could sense the gravity of the situation. Adam's green eyes flickered with thoughts of his next move.

Sheriff Angela turned her attention to the two young men. "You... kid. What's your name?" she asked, her tone authoritative.

Adam stood up, his expression composed. "I'm Adam Wilson."

Angela nodded, then looked at Porter. "And you?"

Porter, standing beside Adam, responded nervously, "Porter Harmss, Sheriff."

Angela nodded again. "Well, I'm going to check on you two in my computer, see if you have any bad records."

Adam and Porter nodded silently, exchanging uneasy glances.

In the cell across from them, Billy, who had been watching the interaction closely, finally spoke up. "Hey, your last name is Wilson?"

Adam turned to face him. "Yeah, and I know what you're trying to say. Looks like your girlfriend is Wilson too, huh?"

Billy seemed surprised. "Uhm... how did you know?"

Adam shrugged nonchalantly. "You all introduced yourselves to the Sheriff back then, and also the conversation earlier doofus."

Billy cleared his throat, looking a bit embarrassed. "Ahem, so you... uhm... heard about it all?"

Adam nodded, leaning casually against the bars of his cell. "About you guys beating the shit out of that old man?"

Billy sighed. "Yeah."

Adam smirked, his eyes glinting with a hint of respect. "He deserved it. He's a fucking serial killer, as you can see from the conversation unfolding right now."

Adam thought to himself, "If I were there, I would've killed that old man already."

Billy looked relieved, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Yeah, a running fugitive. Don't get me started about it."

Adam chuckled, and Billy joined in, the shared laughter easing some of the tension in the room. Porter watched the interaction, feeling a bit out of place but comforted by the fact that Adam seemed to have a handle on things. The two groups, despite their differences, shared a moment of camaraderie in the face of their uncertain future.

.......

[Sheriff Angela side]

Sheriff Angela sat back down at her desk, her attention momentarily diverted by the ringing of her cell phone. She picked it up, seeing the familiar name of her husband, Jason Carter, on the screen. She answered it, her voice a mix of weariness and relief.

"Hey, Jason," she said, leaning back in her chair.

"Hey, Ange. How's it going over there?" Jason's voice crackled through the line.

Angela sighed. "No, I sent the other deputies to the fairgrounds to police the festival. All except Junior. Which reminds me, he should be back by now."

Suddenly, the signal began to break up. "Jason? Jason?" she called into the phone, frustration creeping into her voice as the line went dead. She looked at the phone, shaking her head before setting it down.

Her eyes drifted back to the computer screen, where the details of Maynard Odets' criminal history were displayed. She felt a chill run down her spine, realizing the gravity of the situation. Determined to maintain control, she refocused on her work.

.......

Julian Jones paced back and forth in the small, dimly lit motel room, his mobile phone pressed to his ear. Gus McKaley and Lita Marquez sat on one of the beds, sharing a takeout meal, while Cruz Wilson sat on the edge of the other bed, nervously fidgeting and glancing at her mobile phone, clearly worried about her boyfriend Billy.

Julian spoke into his phone, frustration evident in his voice. "No, I-- No, I know. I know," he said, his pacing becoming more erratic. "No, it's-- Yeah, but it was a complete accident."

He stopped by the window, peering out into the dark night as he continued, "It was an a-- Yeah. Tomorrow." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly stressed. "The car is totaled."

Julian tried to maintain the call. "Mr. Brodin? Mr. Brodin?" He looked at his phone, seeing the signal bars fluctuate before dropping entirely. He sighed, turning to his friends. "Lost the signal. Probably for the best."

He placed the phone on a nearby table and sat down heavily on the bed. "To say Billy's dad is pissed is the understatement of the year." he remarked, shaking his head.

Cruz looked up, her eyes wide with concern. "Is he coming tomorrow?"

Julian nodded. "Yeah."

Cruz bit her lip. "How much trouble do you think Billy's in?"

Julian exhaled deeply. "Oh, God, there's a lot of drugs in that bag. I don't think he's going to get off with a misdemeanor."

Cruz's face paled. "Do you think Billy's going to go to jail for this?"

Julian leaned forward, trying to sound reassuring. "No, Billy's dad will throw the best lawyers at it because Billy's dad is loaded." He met Cruz's worried gaze. "He might not have to. He might get lucky."

Gus, munching on a burger, chimed in between bites. "Yeah. I wouldn't worry about it. Billy's dad's connected up to the wazoo."

Julian stood up again, trying to shift the mood. "Okay, so let's go to the festival."

Cruz looked at him incredulously. "What the hell, Julian? We can't go now."

Julian gestured emphatically. "Well, we can't help Billy sitting in a hotel or motel whatever room...Why not? We..." He looked around at his friends, hoping for some agreement.

But they all stared back at him with skepticism.

Julian threw his hands up. "Come on, we came all this way."

Gus shrugged. "And how do you propose we get there?"

Julian's enthusiasm didn't waver. "Walk."

Lita shook her head firmly. "Well, I am not going anywhere, guys."

Julian scoffed, mimicking shooting himself in the head in frustration at their reactions. "You guys are ridiculous."

To be continue