Sixty
Scorecard
Since the game was played, regardless that one side would have given anything not to play it, in order to keep score:
Ray Andrews had been an Eagle Scout.
Ray Andrews had spent the summers of his junior and senior years in high school and his freshman and sophomore years in college as a camp counselor at a remote outdoor camp in Oregon. This was because Ray’s father was an avid outdoorsman, and Ray was too.
Ray Andrews was beloved by his family, as well as, until recently, his hometown.
Ray Andrews had been prom king.
Ray Andrews had been voted by his senior class as best looking, one part of the best couple, best eyes, best legs and most likely to succeed.
Ray Andrews had been salutatorian of his high school class.
Ray Andrews had been an all-state linebacker who still held the record for most interceptions in a season for any player on any team in the entire county.
Ray Andrews had earned a full ride to a Pac-12 team at a university I’d rather not name.
Ray Andrews performed so well for this team, he was eligible and encouraged to enter the NFL draft, but he was nowhere near the best linebacker not only in the draft, but he’d be far from the best in the league. The estimate of what round in which he’d be selected was very low, but it was expected he’d be selected. He chose not to enter the draft.
Ray Andrews graduated magna cum laude with a degree in non-profit administration.
Ray Andrews had an unheard-of seventy-eight percent success rate in having grants he’d written funded.
Ray Andrews had been the youngest person in history to receive a key to the city (an honor which had since been rescinded), because, in the position he held before coming to Misted Pines, his award-winning, highly funded and since-copied initiative completely revamped the school lunch program into healthier eating. Resultant surveys showed the children had significantly higher energy, better concentration and improved grades, as well as uptake in physical activities. It was widely accepted that part of the reason for the success of this program was, in doing it, he’d directly engaged the kids.
Ray Andrews had started hunting at the age of fifteen and had many kills, including bagging a black bear—he’d done that on a hunting trip he took with Tony Romano.
Ray Andrews played the stock market online in his spare time, and at the time of his incarceration, had amassed a portfolio worth seven hundred and twenty-three thousand dollars…and some change.
Ray Andrews had painstakingly, and faithfully, recorded much of his life in manifest journals.
And as such, it was learned that he had indeed, first sought out Tony Romano due to underground chatter about the depth of services he offered in his adventure business.
However, at this point, Ray Andrews had read the account of the pursuit and capture of Al Catlin, and two about the same of Percy Gibson. Therefore, he’d already moved to Misted Pines and was laying the groundwork to be a trusted part of the community so the test he intended to administer to Cade Bohannan would not result in casting suspicion on him.
Upon meeting Tony Romano, learning the fullness of his skills, and the ease in which he earned the other man’s devotion, the final pieces of the plan fell into place.
Upon searching the home Ray Andrews shared with Shelly George, it was found that they’d had a highly kitted BDSM dungeon installed. And upon interrogating Shelly George, it was discovered that they had a Dominant-submissive relationship that was so much a part of their lifestyle, he selected the clothes she wore every day, and she never did anything without his permission.
In-depth study of his journals exposed that Ray Andrews was deeply in love with and totally devoted to Shelly George and Tony Romano.
In other words, with some of this, Ray Andrews could have been a really damned cool guy.
If he didn’t turn his brilliant mind and abundant energy to killing people.
On the other side of that coin:
The woman working in The Joy of Joy heard me shouting.
She was calling 911 before she looked out the window and saw Ray punch me then shove my unconscious body into his truck.
She recognized me.
She had been working at the store for only three weeks.
So, although he was a long-standing customer and friends with the owners, she, as yet, did not know Ray.
As a matter of course for Ray, his purchase that day of a new set of nipple clamps—because, as he told the clerk, his last pair had broken—had been in cash.
Upon getting the call, Harry Moran, already moving out, told Polly Pickler to phone Bohannan.
The first thing Bohannan did was contact Hawk Delgado.
Therefore, within ten minutes of my abduction, they’d called up my fob and saw where I was heading.
A deputy in the area swung by The Joy of Joy, saw the boat, remembered the report about what a boat of its description was used for, and also saw the R on my Volvo.
En route, this information was relayed to Harry Moran and Bohannan.
It was then, Bohannan knew who had me.
And why.
Onward from that:
Within days of the media sharing the role Ray played in the deaths of Alice Pulaski, Malorie Graham and the shooting of David Ashbrook, and with this sharing photos of Ray, Ray started receiving a trickle of fan mail.
Within weeks, it was an avalanche.
Within the month, The Joy of Joy was burned to the ground. No one was harmed in the fire.
Two days after that, Harry Moran found the arsonists and arrested them.
Also within the month, Shelly George took her own life with an overdose of sleeping pills.
Within a day of learning this, Ray was under twenty-four-hour guard because he’d gone apeshit crazy.
Two days later, Bobby Graham had been found in his car in the garage in the home he was renting outside Seattle, asphyxiated by carbon monoxide.
Not long after that, it was learned that he’d left his somewhat vast holdings to his still-wife Lana.
The day after that, a young man came forward to the police in Berkeley, California and informed them he’d been hired to play a prank on a girl in a dormitory on the campus. He admitted to getting paid five hundred dollars to do it. He also admitted to having sexual relations with Ray Andrews. That young man bore more than passing resemblance to Tony Romano.
A week and a half after that, Harry Moran arrested Leland Dern for multiple felonious abuses during his tenure as sheriff, including not following through with investigations of reports of two of his deputies’ consistent sexual coercion of female suspects in custody and misappropriation of department funds. Not long after that, on the evidence presented, a grand jury indicted him.
That same day, Gary Spoonacher resigned as county commissioner.
A day later, Kenneth Warner announced his planned retirement from the town council upon the beginning of the next term.
Three days later, the woman who provided an alibi for Tony Romano in the death of Malorie Graham was arrested in a prostitution sting in Portland, Oregon. She was extradited to Misted Pines and charged with providing a false statement to the police in a murder investigation. She has since recanted her alibi.
The next week, the Misted Pines Town Council invited Paddy Tremayne to their next meeting to accept an honor for the role he played in capturing Ray Andrews and saving my life.
The next day, Paddy Tremayne, a recluse who lived in a cabin in the hills above the lake directly opposite from the Bohannan compound, a man who came to town only once a month to get supplies, called Polly Pickler to ask her to communicate his response. And that response was, “Tell them to go stuff it.”