Killing The Blood Cleaner (11 page)

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SEVENTEEN

Christ Church has been ministering to the inhabitants of St. Simons Island since 1736. The Church was rebuilt after its malicious destruction by Union troops in the Civil War. It is now a fresh white structure with a grey roof, surrounded by old oaks heavily laden with Spanish moss. Behind the church and enclosed within a wrought iron fence is the church graveyard with the oldest tombstone dating from the early nineteenth century.

General Oglethorpe, the founder of Georgia, appointed his Secretary for Indian affairs, Charles Wesley as Chaplain of nearby Fort Frederica, succeeded by his brother, James Wesley. The Wesley brothers later left the Church of England to become the founders of the Methodist Church. Charles Wesley returned to England abruptly, after only a few months of service on St Simons, with no explanation. There had been well known arguments with his brother and many rumors of sexual adventures to add mystery to Charles’ sudden departure to England.

It was whispered among the locals that the graveyard was haunted and it had been a favorite late night trysting place until the Church restored the wrought iron fence and installed a formidable gate which was padlocked daily by the Church Sexton. However, these defenses could be breached.

“Pull right up to the gate,” Cindy instructed as Jack pulled his car from Frederica Road into the Church compound. Cindy got out of the car with her purse and walked up to the gate. Jack watched her lustily as his headlights revealed the delicious tightness of her dress and the fact that several of her top buttons had been undone in their journey to the church.

“Cindy, look at that chain and padlock. There is no way we are getting in there,” Jack shouted.

“Jack, do I have to remind you that I am the Assistant Homeland Security Director for the Georgia Coastal Region and that Christ Church is a Hurricane Evacuation Center under my jurisdiction? That would be why I have the key,” she said, waving a large key ring she retrieved from her purse. In an instant, she had unlocked the padlock and was removing the chain.

“Now, I’m going to show you how the local wenches had their way with the Right Reverend Charles Wesley. They say some of them still haunt the graveyard as naked ghosts,” Cindy said as she kicked off her shoes and proceeded to remove her dress. Jack watched in amazement as she undressed and stood totally nude in the glare of his headlights.

“You have to catch me now if you want some!” she said giddily as she turned and ran off into the graveyard. Jack got out of the car and followed her past the ancient headstones. Once inside the gate, he looked around in the darkness, but he could not see her anywhere. He walked down a cobblestone path which turned past a large magnolia tree, all the while, peering into the darkness. He stopped and stood by the tree for a second, looking back toward the car and listening for any sound. All was quiet and he continued down the path, past the tree. The second he was past the tree, Cindy jumped out and, waving her fingernails in a ghostly fashion, said, “Who goes there, mortal? What is the password?”

Jack looked at her lovely tanned body and puzzled for a second. “My guess is Wesley,” he said.

“Wesley will do!” she said as she ran forward to embrace him. At that moment, from the other side of the graveyard and down the road was the sound of a car starting and then its lights illuminated the path near where they were standing. The car was some distance away on a side road leading to the Church. It would take a few minutes for it to wind around to where their car was parked.

“Time to go now, Ms. Ghost. I hope they didn’t see us,” Jack said as he pulled at Cindy’s hand. They scampered back up the path, stopping quickly to retrieve Cindy’s clothes and lock the gate. Jack could see the car’s lights as it backed up and turned to get to their side of the Church. Cindy wriggled halfway back into her dress as Jack threw the car into reverse and without turning on his lights, headed down the blacktop toward St. Simons village.

“I’m going to pull in to a side street up here in case they are following us,” Jack said as he accelerated the car down the narrow road. He could see in his rearview mirror that the other car had now arrived at the Church gate and was continuing behind them. As Jack topped a hill he sped up quickly and then turned into a small subdivision. He waited for the car to pass. In a few seconds the other car sped past the entrance to the subdivision.

“Glynn County Sheriff’s Department,” Jack said softly as he read the lettering on the car as it drove past.

“Can we go back now and get naked in the cemetery again?” Cindy said laughing. “They will never expect us to return to the scene of the crime.”

“We are getting you back to trailer trash heaven. We have a date with Elvis and your gold framed mirror,” Jack replied, now feeling a wave of excitement at the thought of getting Cindy into a bed. His heart was racing and he felt especially happy and in control. Again, a small flash of a message from some part of his rational medical persona warned that things were not quite right, and that the amount of alcohol they had consumed should not be producing this sort of wildness. But the message faded as he watched Cindy glide her flowered silk panties up her long legs and back onto her tight bottom while he sped across the bridge toward the mainland, Ossabaw County and Cindy’s trailer.

In his euphoria, Jack didn’t say a word as Cindy reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of chewing gum and a small wad of tissue paper. He watched her chew several sticks of gum briefly and then retrieve a small red plastic object from the paper. She then covered the red object with the chewed gum and pushed it up under the dashboard in front of her. “The red sweater people from Alabama won’t be getting this tonight,” she said dreamily. At the time, this seemed quite fine and normal to Jack. “I hate it when girls chew gum,” was his only comment as he grabbed the pack of gum from Cindy’s hand and put it in his pocket.

EIGHTEEN

Major Knowles sat in his tan unmarked van and stared at the glowing screen of his laptop. The van was parked unobtrusively off the side of Highway 189 behind some scrub palmettos and a small magnolia tree. It was not visible from the roadway. Only the bar of blue lights on the roof identified it as a police vehicle. His position was approximately two hundred feet from the rock outcropping which had been the scene of other crashes. The computer screen showed a map of the local area within twenty miles. Major Knowles watched the glowing green dot which was Jack’s car, as the map showed it moving rapidly across the causeway bridge.

“You better slow down, son. You’re speeding. I don’t want you to get caught just yet,” he thought to himself with a smile as he analyzed the trajectory of the bright dot headed toward his location. The Major then clicked to open another program which showed a night vision satellite view of his location within a two mile radius. He noted the headlights of an oncoming truck on the screen, and within a few seconds the actual headlights appeared on the road behind him as shown on the computer in real time. He switched back to the tracking program and with a few additional clicks he was given an estimated time of arrival for the car represented by the glowing dot to arrive at his exact location.

The Major activated the security icon on his cell phone and speed dialed a number. “Yes,” the Sheriff answered. “It appears we are on target for contact,” the Major responded quietly. “Good, let me know after,” the Sheriff said without further comment. Again, the Major clicked back to the tracking program to make sure that Jack was still on course and then clicked to a full screen version of the two mile area satellite view. Satisfied, the Major placed the laptop sideways in the passenger seat so that the screen could be easily seen from the outside of the vehicle through the driver’s window. He then reached around his seat and retrieved his canvas bag from the cargo area of the van.

The Major exited the van and walked over to the rock outcropping and carefully paced twenty nine full strides to a point on the blacktop approximately four feet from the faded skid marks left from the previous fatality. He placed the rectangular shaped stencil on the road. It would make sure any inadvertent paint droplets were not deposited on the road surface. He then removed the piece of rubber tire and a can of black spray paint from the canvas bag. He sprayed the rubber track with paint until it glistened black. He then carefully placed the tread on the rectangle in the stencil and then removed it quickly, creating a realistic impression of a tire track skid on the road. Pulling a retractable measuring tape from the bag he carefully measured the width of a Mercedes such as Jack’s and then re-sprayed the tread and laid down another painted skid mark to the left of the first one, simulating a skid of the left tire. In the warm evening air the black paint began to dry immediately.

The Major then returned to the van and placed the canvas bag which contained the tire tread, stencil and spray paint in the cargo area. Sliding the cargo door open he picked up one of two five gallon cans of liquid and carried it to a location fifteen feet in front of the skid marks. He poured the glistening liquid soap on the right side of the road so that it covered the blacktop with slickness for a distance of about ten feet. He then returned to the empty can to the van, being careful not to disturb the painted skid marks or the slippery liquid.

The Major then grabbed the dead fawn’s tiny legs, picked the little carcass up easily and took it to a spot about ten feet in front of the soap slick. The Major carefully placed it with about two feet of the deer’s head protruding across the center line on to the right side of the road.

The Major stepped back to review his work. A driver coming down this road at high speed would see the deer carcass and naturally move his car slightly to the right to avoid running over the deer’s head. This would put the car careening into the slick at an angle which would send it sliding directly into the rock outcropping. There would be a crash with the passenger side of the car having massive impact with the rock as had happened in the previous fatal car wrecks at that location. The painted skid marks would make it appear that the car was traveling at a much higher speed when the brakes were hit to avoid the deer carcass. There would be no skid marks from the actual auto as the soap would quickly slide the auto off the road.

Satisfied with his work, the Major then walked back to the van and settled into the driver’s seat. He clicked on the tracking program and saw that Jack was about three minutes away from being viewable on the two mile satellite program. The two mile view showed no other traffic on Highway 189. The Major took one long look around the scene and settled back to wait.

Jack was now happily cruising his top down Mercedes through the center of Lanier with music blaring and Cindy dancing in her seat and waving her arms. There was no traffic at this time of night and their merry travel went unnoticed until they sped past the Waffles N’ Grits, at the city limits of Lanier and its posted speed limits of 25MPH. Inside, coming off his evening shift was Georgia State Trooper, Doug King. He had just settled into his late-night dinner of country ham, grits and coffee when he happened to look up and out the window toward the highway as Jack and Cindy went speeding by. He could even hear the music as a customer opened the glass door to the restaurant.

“Dammit, I thought I was done for today. Lilly, keep my plate warm. I’ve got to intercept some drunk perpetrators. I’ll be back,” he said to the waitress, pointing to his food as he moved through the door. By the time he had his patrol car back on the highway, Jack and Cindy were miles ahead.

Jack was going about 65 when he saw the deer in the highway. “Oh no! He’s dead,” Cindy said as she also saw the deer. Jack braked slightly as there appeared to be plenty of room on the right to avoid running over the carcass. Jack was calm and now that he had spotted the situation, it was just a matter of avoidance as he approached. But as he drove closer something seem to be wrong. The road just ahead was shining and reflecting in the bright moonlight. Jack had no time to respond as the car slid off the slippery road and careened directly toward the rocky outcropping. “Jack stop!” Cindy screamed as the car hit the rocks. The impact crushed her door with the most jagged part of the rocks. A piece of the yellow rock hit Jack in the head just as his airbag exploded.

Major Knowles watched the collision and its aftermath silently for a few seconds and listened to the hissing of broken radiator hoses over the sounds of the still audible music. He turned on the blue lights and moved the van from its hidden position and parked it directly over the soap slick. Exiting the van, he pulled open the cargo door and retrieved the second five gallon can, filled with water which he poured under the van to wash away the soap. He returned the empty can to the van and groped around for the canvas bag and retrieved the brick sized yellow rock from the previous accident. He put on his leather gloves as he approached the wrecked vehicle.

Jack was unconscious and still strapped into his seat belt. Blood poured from the gash made by the rock down the side of his face. Major Knowles could see that Cindy was still alive even though the door on her side was penetrated by a piece of the rock formation. It was clear she had been pelted by several large rocks that had been slammed loose like cannonballs from the impact. She appeared to be unconscious and was making only low moaning noises. Major Knowles stepped around to her side of the car and positioned himself with the rock in both hands to break her extended neck as she slumped forward. There would be no way to show that this blow was any different from the others. As he pulled back to strike, he took a quick glance around to make sure his actions would be unwitnessed. Suddenly, in the corner of his eye, he saw the flash of a blue light about a thousand yards away and behind a distant hill on the highway.

“Damn, they must’ve picked up a Trooper,” he said as he tossed the rock to the ground. He removed his gloves, placing them in his pocket and took his radio from his belt. “Two-zero here. We have an accident with two injuries. Highway 189 at the rocks. Send an ambulance,” he said loudly into the radio, continuing with the car tag information and vehicle description. It was only a few seconds before the State Trooper pulled quickly around the blinking van and off the road to within a few feet from the crash site. Major Knowles stepped forward as the door to the State Patrol cruiser door opened. Trooper King emerged from the car and walked quickly over to the wrecked vehicle.

“So here they are. They blew right past the Waffles N’ Grits just as I was starting dinner,” the Trooper said, looking at the smashed car and its bleeding occupants, wondering how Major Knowles had arrived so quickly at the scene.

“I have already called for an ambulance,” Major Knowles said calmly. “The girl is in bad shape. The guy looks better, maybe just a head laceration.”

The Trooper looked out to the highway as the blue lights from both the Trooper car and Major Knowles’ van whirled about them both. “Looks like they hit a deer and swerved,” the Trooper said, looking at the carcass. “They sure were flying. I wish I had caught them. How did you get here so fast?” he asked, always suspicious of anything involving Major Knowles or the Ossabaw Sheriff.

“I was just on the way to the Waffle N’ Grits myself when I saw them on the side,” Major Knowles said smoothly.

“Do we have any ID on these folks? Have you called in the tag?” the Trooper continued.

“I called in the tag when I called for the ambulance. I didn’t want to move them to look for an ID until the ambulance arrived,” the Major responded. At that moment they both heard the wail of a siren and they turned to see the flashing red lights of the ambulance approach. It pulled off the highway and flashed a spotlight on the wreck as it pulled alongside. The driver, a thin, twentyish, white boy with long blond hair and the EMT, a tall, middle-aged black man with a beard, jumped out of the ambulance and walked quickly to the wrecked vehicle.

“Look at the passenger first. She is the worst off,” the Trooper instructed as they approached the car. The EMT opened the rear door of the ambulance and pulled out two stretchers which he placed upon the sandy ground. He then dragged one of the stretchers near the door to the passenger side of the car and looked at Cindy’s crumpled form in the light of a flashlight.

“Well, at least, she had her seatbelt on and the side airbag activated. But that didn’t do her much good with these rocks,” he said as he unlatched the seatbelt and continued to examine her with the flashlight. On the other side of the car the ambulance driver was performing the same maneuver with Jack. The EMT flashed his light briefly on Jack.

“I think we can safely lift them,” the EMT pronounced as he put on a pair of gray rubber gloves and a face mask. “Come over here and give me a hand with the girl,” he said to the driver. The driver, who had also donned his gloves and mask, walked quickly to Cindy’s side of the car.

“I’m going to lift her out from under her shoulders. You get her feet and we will put her on the stretcher,” the EMT ordered. He then gently put his arms around Cindy and slowly pulled her over the side of the car. As he did so, several large rocks fell to the floor of the car. The driver caught her legs and they deposited her on the stretcher. Cindy’s face and dress was now a mass of blood and the gold necklace which had survived the impact was painted with blobs of red mixed with the yellow dirt of the rocks. The EMT snapped the straps of the stretcher around Cindy and then he and the driver carried her to the back of the ambulance. In a few seconds they returned for Jack. Again, the EMT gently pulled Jack’s limp form from the car seat and the driver grabbed his legs as they lowered him onto the stretcher.

Major Knowles and the Trooper watched as Jack was carried on the stretcher to the ambulance. The Major reached over and picked up Cindy’s purse from the floor of the car and retrieved her driver’s license. “Damm! This is our girl, Cindy Jessup. I didn’t recognize her with all the blood. This must be that doctor from Atlanta she talked to us about,” the Major said convincingly. “Why don’t you escort the ambulance and I will finish up here. I want to make sure we get this guy that fucked Cindy up. I will be right behind you,” the Major suggested to the Trooper.

“I’ll look after her!” the Trooper responded with a wave, as he bounded back into his cruiser. In a few seconds the ambulance containing Jack and Cindy was speeding toward the Glynn County Hospital preceded by the State Patrol cruiser with sirens and lights at full alert.

After their departure, Major Knowles continued to examine the contents of Cindy’s purse, and the interior of the car, hoping to find the thumb drive. He then walked back to the van where he tossed the purse into the cargo area. He picked up his cell phone, again activated the security icon and speed dialed a number.

“Yes,” was the Sheriff’s response.

“We are not quite done. They are headed for the hospital. I’ve arranged for the County to be doing some repaving here tomorrow,” Major Knowles said softly.

“So she is still alive?” the Sheriff asked. “Did you get that thumb drive?”

“Negative,” Major Knowles replied. There was no response from the Sheriff and the call was disconnected.

The Major pulled his digital camera from his pocket and took several pictures of the car, the skid marks, and the deer carcass. He was careful that the pictures of the road did not include the now disappearing slick.