Fallout (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 2) (16 page)

John Metcalf called out from the front yard. Joshua hollered and told him to come around to the back porch. He watched Emma stretch and then sit up; her long, smooth legs glistened in the waning rays of sunlight that pierced through the trees.

“I haven’t seen you in a couple of days, Sheriff. I was on my way to my folk’s house and just thought I would stop by and see your place. You told me to stop by sometimes.”

“You’re welcome to come by anytime,” Joshua replied. He saw John staring at Emma and said, “John, you remember Emma, don’t you? She has been staying here doing some cleaning for me.”

“Yes, certainly, how have you been?” John asked.

“I’m good,” Emma replied. “I’m sorry but I don’t remember you,” she apologized.

Joshua could see Emma’s interest in the younger man. John was a handsome fellow, and he saw John’s admiration of Emma’s good looks. It did not hurt his feelings at all. Maybe John would take some of Emma’s attention from him. The sex had been nice, but he did not feel comfortable getting into a relationship with someone as young as she was.

“What did you find out about the floater from the other day?”

“Just like you figured, Sheriff, he fell from a rig twenty-five miles out in the gulf.”

“That’s good; well it’s good that it was an accident. Have you heard anything from our federal friends?” Joshua asked.

“No, sir, not yet, but I heard there was a murder over in Mississippi and two in Louisiana since those we had here.”

“He moves on quick like. It doesn’t give anyone time to pin him down.”

“Yes, sir, he does…” Metcalf hesitated. “I hoped we could stop him here, but it looks like he might make it into Mexico before they catch him.”

“Yeah, there are too many sets of rails leading to the border to cover all of them. I hate that more women have lost their lives. I would have liked to catch him too, but to tell the truth, I am glad he is gone from here. Not meaning to change the subject, John, but I was wondering, do you know anything about the mortuary in Green County?”

“Not very much, Sheriff, but I remember going to a wake and funeral over there with my folks a few years back. Why?”

“I need to look into some things concerning information I picked up while looking into my mother’s disappearance.” Just then, Joshua heard the intro to the Three Dog Night song, ‘Mama Told Me not the Come,’ begin playing on the radio. Emma stood and danced a jig as she headed toward the back door. It reminded Joshua very much of her mother, Pearl. He looked toward John Metcalf just as Emma asked John if he had ever smoked a joint. The surprised look on Metcalf’s face caused him to smile.

Emma kept dancing. She swirled around and around, and then she stopped in front of Joshua, winked, then turned and danced back toward Metcalf. “Well, have you?” she coaxed.

Metcalf glanced toward Joshua. Joshua’s amused expression gave him the courage to be at ease.

“Nope,” John replied, “But, I always listened to my mama when she told me not to come.” Emma burst out laughing, and then John laughed. Joshua took a swallow of whiskey and then lit a cigarette.

“Why don’t you sit down and relax awhile,” Emma told Metcalf. “Y’all two,” she looked at both “are just
too
damned serious. Y’all need to quit stressing over stuff.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. I need to be heading on; my folks are expecting me for supper.”

“That’s too bad,” Emma replied, “You’re gonna miss out on my cooking, it’s pretty good, isn’t it, Sheriff.”

“Yeah, Emma’s a good cook, John.” Joshua figured Emma was doing the old, ‘way to a man’s heart’ thing. “Maybe you can come eat supper with us soon,” he told John.

“I’d like that,” Metcalf replied.

Before John Metcalf could turn to leave, they heard another vehicle coming down the driveway. John leaned back trying to see who it was; Joshua listened, wondering who it could be this time. When he heard the low roar and lope of the motorcycle mufflers, he propped his feet back onto the railing and relaxed.

Well, I’ll be damned, thought Joshua. It’s Roy McGregor. It seemed that much of what he was concerned over was taking care of itself in one sitting.

“I hate to leave good company,” Metcalf said as Roy walked up, “but, the folks are waiting. I’ll see y’all later,” he said, encompassing them all.

“You don’t have to run off, just ‘cause I come,” Roy said as he walked up. He stopped beside John Metcalf and surveyed those there.

“Nothing personal, Roy; the folks are expecting me for supper.”

Roy acknowledged the statement with a nod of his head and extended his hand for a shake. Emma had sat back down on the swing and was watching the two men exchange pleasantries. Joshua drank what whiskey was in his glass and poured himself a little more, then lit a cigarette.

The physical appearance of the two men in front of them was vastly different. Metcalf was in his mid-twenties, Roy, his mid-thirties. John Metcalf was about five-ten, slender build, with light brown hair and blue eyes. Roy was six-three, medium build, with dark, should length curls and dark, amber to an almost brown eye color. Both were good-looking, but Joshua could tell that Emma was fascinated by Roy’s bad-boy looks and charming smile. As he thought of it, Joshua figured that Emma should know Roy. He was an associate of her aunts and uncles. He grew up with them, went to school with them, and hung out with them as a teenager.

As soon as John Metcalf walked away, Emma said, “Well, if it isn’t
Mister
Roy McGregor. I haven’t seen you in a coon’s age!” she exclaimed. “How, have, you, been?” she asked, dragging it out into four syllables.

Roy looked puzzled for a moment and then said, “Little Emma Carr, is that you?” Emma jumped up and ran to hug him. As Roy untangled himself from Emma’s grasp, he said “Damn, gal, you have done gone and growed up on me! Just look at you… you ain’t so gangly now are you; you’re pretty as a picture. Dang it girl, you’re prettier than your mama was at your age.” Roy admired her with his eyes.

Emma blushed, looped her arm through his and led him up onto the porch and to the porch swing. After he sat down, she sat beside him, turned slightly and then threw her legs across his leg that was nearest hers.

For a moment, he thought she was going to crawl into Roy’s lap. Damn, thought Joshua, she must be more familiar with him that he first thought. He could see that Roy was not comfortable with Emma’s possessive familiarity with him.

“Girl, you wasn’t knee high to a grasshopper the last time I saw you.”

“I was probably twelve the last time I saw you over at Mammaw’s house,” Emma replied. “And I
was,
too,
higher than a grasshopper,” she pouted.

“Maybe,” Roy teased, “We grow them grasshoppers mighty big around these parts. What are you now, fifteen?” he asked.

“I’ll have you know that I am almost twenty years old!”

“Twenty!” Roy exclaimed, “Lord help us then if you get any prettier.”

Joshua took a long drag off his cigarette and then blew it out slowly. Their cat and mouse game was beginning to grind on his nerves. Roy had come for a reason and he doubted that it was to flirt with Emma. Joshua took a swallow of whiskey and gazed across the river where his thoughts went back to the horse and rider he saw there recently. At first, he did not hear Roy speaking his name. When he did, he looked at him.

“I need to talk to you, Sheriff; privately, if possible” Roy’s tone was now serious.

“Sure,” Joshua responded. “Emma, go inside so that Roy and me can talk,” he did not ask, he issued an order. Emma frowned, but got up and walked into the kitchen.

“Are you mad at me, Cuz?” Roy asked, once she had gone.

“Why would I be mad, like she says, she is grown. She is just staying here temporarily, there is nothing between us.” Roy looked doubtful and then grinned.

“Well, for some reason, she’s trying her damnedest to make you jealous.”

“I think she has a crush on me because I saved her from those Dixon boys.”

“Let her down easy, Cuz. She’s in a delicate state.”

“What do you mean?”

Roy pulled his pipe out of his pocket, packed it with marijuana, and then said, “Like old Willie Shakespeare says, ‘Love all, trust a few, do wrong to none’- I seen track marks on her arm, Sheriff. After what she went through, who can blame her. I knew something was wrong; she’s always been real shy.” Roy lit his pipe and puffed to keep it lit. He took a toke and offered it to Joshua.

“Uh huh,” Joshua accepted and took a hit.

“When I asked if you was mad, I meant about the cemetery the other day,” Roy said after he exhaled.

“Nah,” Joshua replied. ‘Simple Man,’ by Lynyrd Skynyrd played on the radio and each listened quietly as they passed the pipe back and forth.

“God rest her soul. Every time I hear that song, I think of my mama,” said Roy solemnly. “That’s all she ever wanted was for me to be a
simple man
. She as much as said the same thing to me he says in the song. Just be a simple man, son, don’t go looking for trouble and you won’t find any. The other day, I was looking for trouble. I wanted to kill that sorry sum’bitch and he was already dead. Ain’t that something?”

“I can understand that much better than you realize,” Joshua replied. “My mother disappeared thirty-eight years ago. I can’t prove it, but I think those Dixon boys’ daddy, granddaddy, or uncle had something to do with her disappearance. I would like to string them up, castrate them, and then skin them alive. So, yeah, I understand exactly what brought you to the graveyard.”

“Cassie didn’t deserve what Tom did to her, no more than Emma deserved to be treated the way she was by those idiots that had her. Neither did that nig-that colored man. He was trying to help Cassie and Tom killed him for it. This is a fucked up world we live in Cuz, and it don’t seem to be getting any better; it gets worse and worse.”

“Yes, it does…” Joshua replied sadly, feeling the weight settle on his shoulders.

“Those idiots up there in Washington would have folks believe it is because of this,” he said holding out the pipe. “Pot soothes you, mellows you out. All it does is make you feel good. It eases your pains. It causes you to be laid back, a little lazy; it don’t cause people to do crazy shit.”

“No,
it
don’t,” Joshua agreed “but that manufactured shit is something else. It needs to be eradicated; wiped off the planet.”

“That’s unfamiliar territory for me, Cuz. I’ve never partook of anything but this,” Roy motioned with the pipe again. “We grow this stuff ourselves, so I know it’s pure.”

“It’s good stuff, that’s for sure. Got any to spare?” Joshua asked. “I like to keep a little on hand for when I get stressed out.”

“I’ll fix you up, Cuz. I got a couple of ounces in my saddlebags. I’ll leave that with you. Anytime you need more just let me know.” Joshua nodded his head.

They talked a little more and then Roy got the pot out of his saddlebags and brought it to Joshua. Joshua tried to pay him for it, but he refused payment, said that he might need to call in a favor some day.

“Anytime,” Joshua replied. The pot had soothed his taunt nerves and he was relaxed. It was dark by then and Joshua’s eyes drooped heavily. He strained to keep them open as he watched for the lone rider he had seen across the river the night before.

Opaque, less than perfect, small, black, red-tinged roses reflected along the edge of the mirrored pool of water. One reflection turned into a tadpole, fat and black with red eyes. It slithered along the edge. The gristly bumps of flesh, where soon to be legs would sprout wiggled with its movement, already practicing for when they grew forth to raise it from its belly to hop away from the sheltered abode.

A sound behind him caused Joshua to take his eyes from the water and turn to look.

Translucent, in a circle of iridescent light, a woman void of color stood watching him. Suddenly he felt as if he was a child again. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear music playing. It was so soft that he could not make out what song it was, but knew he had heard it before. He also heard an automobile idling. That was where the light behind the woman came from, the cars headlamps.

Joshua looked down. He was standing on the bed of a gravel road, on a levee maybe. A loud splash in the water caused him to glance back toward the pool; he saw a large tadpole with bright red eyes that closed as it sunk deep beneath the water’s surface. A woman’s voice called out his name and told him to run. When he looked back toward the circle of light, his porch and rocker had replaced the woman in the circle of light. It was pitch black everywhere except the area around his rocking chair. Joshua sat down and closed his eyes. The sound of the music grew louder and surrounded him-it was the ‘Time in a Bottle’ song. He listened. After a moment, he opened his eyes. In front of him, sallow in color, stood the shadowy form of a woman, her breasts resolute, upright, the nipples pressed firmly against the transparent material of her gown. She reached down and pulled the garment up and over her head, removing it.

She then reached out, took his hands from the arms of the rocker, and placed them firmly on her bosom. Joshua was confused. Was this another illusion? It felt solid enough. He placed his thumbs on the realistic nipples and slowly rotated them. Yes, most definitely feel real, thought Joshua; however, he was still leery of the situation. Then he realized he might be dreaming. He was about to remove one of his hands from the breast and pinch himself when the illusive creature before him moved closer, pushing him back deeper and deeper into the rocker until he was lying flat in his bed, a surreal pillow cradled his head. He knew he was in his bed, but again, he had no idea how he come to be there. Emma was astraddle him, suckling his earlobe.

With hot labored breath, she whispered, “Make love to me,” and then moved her lips to his.

Her nakedness felt smooth and silky against his skin. His lips responded as she began to move against him, even though he fought against it.

Joe Cocker’s voice flowed into the room from somewhere in the night … and as the choir sung - “
Do you need anybody?”

Cocker said - “I need somebody to love.”

The choir sung
- “Do you want anybody?”

Cocker said - “I just need someone to love.’”

The choir sung - “
Could it be anybody?”

Cocker said - “I want somebody to love. Oh, I need you woman” -
Joshua flipped Emma onto her back and pushed himself inside her.

“
I get by with a little help from my friends, with a little help from my friends,”
sang the choir;
and as they became more frenzied in their lovemaking the song ended and the Moody Blues tune - ‘Knights in White Satin’ began playing; their lovemaking slowed to the rhythm of the song. Joshua was on the verge of pulling out and resorting to cunnilingus to delay his orgasm when ‘White Rabbit’ by Jefferson Airplane began to play. Moments later, he felt Emma’s hot spasmodic release and he could not hold back; it was as if her body drew him deeper and deeper until he lost all control.

He kissed her lips, eyelids, throat, and then her mouth. She responded by rolling him onto his side, wrapping her long leg over him and then pressed his face to her breast. She cradled him in her arms; comforted, he suckled gently.

Daylight drifted through the curtained window; when he woke, he was alone. He knew it was not a dream, he could smell her scent on him. “
If I could save time in a bottle, the first thing that I’d like to do, is to save everyday til eternity passes away just to spend them with you”
… He did not know why the lines of that song ran through his mind; that was the last thing he wanted. Emma was far too young for him to even consider such a thing. It was ridiculous. He was not in love with her. He had no feeling for her other than the sex they shared. He needed to get rid of her, get her out of his house, and out of his bed. It was just too damn convenient. It still puzzled the hell out of him as to how he ended up in his bed naked… was this some sort of vivid dream he had been having. Was his body betraying his mind, walking in his sleep, removing his clothes and getting into bed because he knew she would come to him?

As he thought this, he remembered the first part of his ‘dream’ if that was what it was. He remembered the pool of water, the woman in the circle of iridescent light, the automobile, the gravel road, and the lake. That’s what it was, a lake… and the large black tadpole with the red eyes was actually a car sinking down into the water!

Was he actually experiencing visions, instead of having dreams? Was it some sort of psychic vision of what had happened to his mother?

In the vision he was a little boy… the woman’s voice told him to run, but when he turned to look at her, he was on his porch-a full-grown man and the light that was behind his mother by the water was now shining onto his rocker.

He remembered sitting down and then Emma appeared before him, beautifully broken in a pale yellow translucent glow. He was not sure if she was real at first and then she moved closer and he was in his bed making love to her. Joshua was straightforward. This supernatural stuff scared the shit out of him; he did not trust it, especially after what happened with Josiah Long with his prediction of his father’s death.

Joshua flipped the covers back; sure enough, he was naked. He gathered his clothes to take a shower. The bathroom door was ajar. Emma lay in a tub of water asleep. He knew she was not dead; he could see her breathing. He pulled the door closed and knocked softly. When she did not respond, he knocked louder. This time he roused her.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” she called.

He went back to his bedroom to wait for her to get out of the tub. After he heard her leave the bathroom, he went in, showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and then dressed.

When he stepped out of the bathroom, he could smell coffee brewing. He knew he could not leave without having to face Emma. He took a deep breath and then walked into the kitchen. He went straight to the table to get Vivian’s photo album.

“Be careful
mister
police
man. You know not what you find when you open doors that have been closed a long time.” Georgia’s voice flowed on the morning breeze that came through the open door. Joshua glanced around. It sounded as if she was there in the room with him. His vision from the night before flashed through his mind.

Was he actually on a levee with his mother? Did a car disappear into a body of water? Was it all just some sort of weird dream he had? He headed toward the backdoor.

“Don’t you want a cup of coffee?”

“I don’t have time, I’m late,” Joshua said as he walked out the door. He got into his patrol car and shoved his Steppenwolf tape into the 8-Track player. ‘Magic Carpet Ride’ roared through the speakers. He welcomed the familiarity of it. It was something solid; something familiar, something he could depend on.

Illusions were the work of magicians-was it illusions or delusions? Was he delusional? Was he going slap-ass crazy as his grandfather had?

Maybe Georgia was right when she said, be careful, you know not what you find when you open doors that have been closed a long time.

He had opened quite a few doors recently and it seemed he had opened them far enough to let out a whole passel of memories and an entire mess of revenants…