Fallout (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 2) (4 page)

“No, I’m alright, Sheriff, but can you tell me what happened to Mama and Daddy?”

“Lorelei, your folks was murdered.”

“Who in the world would want to hurt Mama and Daddy? They didn’t have an enemy in the world that I know of… no, I know they didn’t. Everyone loved them!”

“We think it was a drifter riding the rails.”

“We’ve lived in this spot my entire life, Sheriff. We never had any trouble because of those tracks. I’ve never even seen a hobo around here. Of course, I know that there are some in Mobile, but they tend to stick close to the city.”

“We’ll know more once we’ve done a thorough investigation.”

“Are they still here? I’d like to say goodbye.”

“Hon, you don’t want to see your folks like that. Wait until after the funeral home is done with them to say your goodbyes. It appears they’ve been dead several days.”

“Oh my God!” she exclaimed and Joshua thought she was going to collapse as he felt her weight fill his arms. “How could I not have known that? Oh, Lord, I have been so tied up with comforting others in my family, fixing food and stuff. Daddy had not been feeling well. He and Mama didn’t feel like going to Tom’s wake and funeral…” she let her words drop off as if she just realized that it was he that shot Tom.

“I know you done what you had to do, Sheriff. I don’t hold Tom’s death against you. He hadn’t ever been right in the head.” Joshua released his hold on her arms.

“Is there anything, I can do for you? Do you need me to drive you home?”

“That would be helpful, Sheriff. I will get my husband and boy to come back and get my car on the flatbed.”

“You need to get rid of that thing, Lori. You see how dangerous they are.”

“Yes, Sir, I do now.”

Joshua made sure Metcalf and the others had everything under control until he could return and then he drove Lorelei home. By the time he dropped her off, it was dark. His stomach was growling in complaint, so he stopped at the Hickory Pit Café to get him a bite to eat and a cup of coffee; he figured it was going to be a long night.

Jeanne, one of the waitresses, smiled when he walked in and said, “Haven’t seen you in a while, Sheriff, we all thought you had done found you a woman to do your cooking for you.”

“Nah, Hon, I just been busy,” he said as he took a seat at a table near the door.

“Well, if you’re ever in the market for one, you just let me know,” Jeanne winked.

Joshua smiled, “Not meaning to change the subject,” he said, “but I am looking for someone to give my place a good scrubbing.”

“I could do that for you, Sheriff.” Joshua heard the voice but it was not coming from Jeanne. He looked toward the back of the café and saw, Emma Carr sitting alone.

“Mind if I join you?”

“No, Sheriff, I don’t mind,” Emma replied.

“If it’s not too much trouble, bring my coffee and plate over to Emma’s table,” he told Jeanne as he stood and then stretched a little, his body feeling the results of the last several weeks. He had been broadsided by a Ford Mustang, doing at least 70 mph, and then shot in the ribs. He was definitely feeling it. Moreover, he was feeling the weight of it all settling on him, smothering him until he hardly had room to gather his thoughts.

“Are you doing alright, Sheriff?” Emma asked. Joshua looked deep into Emma’s eyes, debated telling her the truth but he could tell she was still suffering the effects of her bondage. Her hair was still black. It did not fit at all with her coloring and he could see the faint red dots around her mouth where the needle had punched through the skin of her lips. He decided just to tell her yes, he was doing ‘all right.’

“Good, I’ve been worried about you. I don’t want Leonard and the others to do anything bad to you and you know they are running their mouths about doing just that.”

“Yeah, I figured as much. He and
little
Tom paid me a visit this afternoon.”

“He’s just as dirty and disgusting as Tom was, Sheriff, but where Tom was arrogant and bigoted, Leonard is sneaky. He thinks he is slick and can get away with the things he does, but one of these days, karma is going to bite him square in the ass, the same as it did Tom. They’re two peas in a pod, or they were before Tom died.”

Joshua took in everything Emma was saying while he smoked a cigarette and drank a cup of coffee. He knew there were hidden meanings behind her words. He had no doubt that he deciphered them well. He and Emma came to an agreement on the housework he needed done, he ate his burger and then excused himself telling her he had work to do. He did not want to spread the news about Jesse and Ola Vice; he knew that it would get around soon enough. Emma watched him go, wishing he could have stayed just a little bit longer. She felt safe as long as he was around.

The only thing she remembered from her ordeal after the brothers took her from Joshua’s back porch was his covering her with something and telling her that she was safe. Emma did not know if she would ever truly feel safe again. It was not because of Earl and Vernon Dixon - she knew that she never had to worry about them again, except when they slipped into her dreams or when she had the occasional flashback. It was everything else in the world-the ease with which everything could be fine one minute and in the next moment it could change so drastically…

Joshua hated to think that he might have to contact the Mexican Government. He knew that small groups of secret societies, cartels called juntas, ran the government there. These juntas, as the Spanish call them, actually ran the entire country from within the government. Although Joshua had been an elected official in Alabama for the last twenty some odd years, he knew very little about politics or any of the other stuff that went along with it. He did not care for politicians. He knew that the groups that ran the Mexican government consisted of the affluent and well known, the drug lords, and other lowlifes. Not much different from our own country, he thought to himself. That was why it was so hard to keep the Mexicans from jumping the border.

They came to America to live the
American
Dream
. The government there did not mind losing a few thousand a year, especially those poor idiots that think they can jump the border and get rich quick. It did not work that way at all. Many were caught and sent back to Mexico; many of them died just trying to cross the border. Joshua had heard horror stories about the things that went on along the border. He had no desire to go there.

When he left the Hickory Pit, he grabbed his Steppenwolf tape and was about to shove it into the 8-Track player then decided he would not have time to listen to even one song before he’d be back to Jesse’s place, and he needed a lot more than that; he needed to cruise the back roads. He needed to ride with the windows down, a good joint in his hand, and listen to the entire tape before he’d be able to relax. He needed to just chill, but when he drove into Jesse’s yard, and saw the black sedans parked there, he knew there would be no relaxing for him, at least for a while.

Joshua Stokes hated the Federal Bureau of Investigation more than he hated liars and thieves and that was saying a lot. Thieves and liars were a lot that should be shipped off to some island somewhere where it would be no one but them there. They would eventually kill each other off because there would be no trust involved, and in this world, you had to have trust. You had to have faith in your fellow man to survive.

He parked and then got out. John Metcalf was still processing the crime scene. He came out the backdoor just as Joshua was getting out. Joshua lit a smoke and leaned back against his patrol car. Metcalf walked over. John Metcalf could read Joshua’s expressions pretty well and knew he was pissed, and from the look he was giving him, he was pissed at
him
. As soon as he reached the patrol car, he blurted out his thoughts.

“I know what you’re thinking, Sheriff, but it wasn’t me that called them,” Metcalf said, “Remember me telling you they sent word that he was headed this way. Well, as soon as they heard about these murders, they showed up. These boys are from the Mobile field office.” Joshua was chewing the side of his lip. He’d had so much on his mind that what Metcalf had first told him about the Mexican killer had slipped his mind. He was used to local on local crime, not nationwide.

“You’re right. I figured you had called them. You just don’t know how bad these federal boys get under my skin, John. They come onto a crime scene like this one and act as if they own it. They flaunt their
absolute
authority
over everyone. It’s all I can do not to shoot 'em when they piss me off.”

“They’ve already said they want to work closely with us local authorities,” Metcalf assured him, “It don’t seem like they want to just take over, Sir.”

“Maybe not yet, John, but they will, I can assure you of that,” he said tersely. John did not respond. “Those fellers being here throw me off balance. I’m use to delegating orders, telling who to do what and so on. The last time they were here, they just took over. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise.”

“All they’ve asked for is to see our reports and the results of our investigation.” Joshua looked over John Metcalf’s shoulder when he saw a man in a suit walking toward them. The man was older, a little on the stout side with gray at his temples.

“Sheriff?” the man questioned.

“That’d be me” Joshua responded.

“I wanted to introduce myself, Sheriff. My name is Joe Barnes. I’m the Lead Investigator of the local branch of the FBI.” he extended his hand. Reluctantly, Joshua reached out his in return.

“Joshua Stokes” he responded. Barnes made and held eye contact as they shook. He had a firm grip and an honest eye. Joshua decided he would hold his opinion of him until after he had a little more dealings with him.

“We’re not here to step on anyone’s toes, Sheriff. We’re just trying to stay ahead of this killer, but he seems to stay one-step ahead of us.”

“Yeah, they tend to do that because they don’t think or feel as we do, Mr. Barnes, and rarely are they logical. Most killers do not have what is considered a
normal
state of mind. They do not feel as we do, actually, they don’t feel at all where living creatures are concerned. Many start out killing small animals. They are a lot like a shark. Sharks kill to satisfy a hunger, it don’t care what it kills as long as its belly gets full. Killers kill to satisfy a need too, they have no empathy toward others. That does not mean they don’t have relationships. Some of them do, but their relationships are one sided and only if the person they are in the relationship with is in some way helpful to them. Either to support their egos or to furnish them with something they’re in need of; at least, that has been my experience in my thirty some odd years as a law enforcement officer.”

“Sounds as if you pretty much know how criminals think, Sheriff. You’d make a good profiler for the FBI,” Joe Barnes said, admiring the sheriff’s intellect.

“No Sir, y’all don’t want me up there, I can assure you. To do that you probably have to have empathy for the killer; that ain’t going to happen. I would just as soon shoot 'em and be done with it. Save the tax payers money from having to take care of them.”

“Just the same, you might want to consider it.”

“No Sir, I’m not cut out for office work nor am I cut out for wearing a suit. We’ll keep you updated on what we find as we go on with the investigation, Mr.-”

“Please, Sheriff, just call me Joe. Keep me apprised, and that will work just fine, we will back off and let your boy’s work. If you need us, you know where we’ll be.”

“Yes, Sir” Joshua nodded. Just then, Deputy Calvert’s patrol car drove into the yard. Joshua excused himself and walked toward it. He did not want to give Calvert time to come to him, if he did, Barnes would know whatever was said.

“Did you find anything,” he asked Calvert.

“Seasonal did not admit to hiring any new Mexicans, but several that were still there working the flowerbeds around the office appeared to be fresh off the train. By the time I got to Page’s the gate was locked. I know the Mexican’s who work there live in several old trailers they have set up there for them, so I walked around the gate and went in. there wasn’t a damn one of 'em that spoke English or at least ‘fessed up to speaking it. You want me to go back in the morning after they open?”

“Yeah, you do that and then check out several more while you’re at it, I’m going to go talk to Kitty Christian first thing in the morning and see what she can tell me. She is up to snuff on the goings on in the nursery business.”

“What you want me to do tonight?”

“Nothing, there’s not much we
can
do. Go home and get some rest, we will get back at it first thing in the morning. Tell Cookie and Davis to do the same.”

“Yes, Sir”

Joshua looked over to see if Metcalf and Barnes were still by his patrol car. He saw all the federal cars leaving. They looked like a funeral procession driving out to the main road. Metcalf was walking his way.

“Sheriff, I’m just going to put some yellow tape across the doors, maybe it will keep out the Vices kinfolk for a little while; there’s not much we can do in the dark. I’m going back to the lab to see what I can find under the microscope.”

“Alright, John, but try to get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be one hellacious long day. We will be up to our elbows in it. I’m heading home.”

The drive home was a quiet one; Joshua was thoughtful. Before he knew it, his drive loomed ahead. He turned in and drove up to his cabin, went in, got his bottle whiskey, and then walked back out onto his porch. Just as he sat down in his rocker, he saw a possum walk up onto his porch. The possum stopped and stared at him. It was the damnedest thing he had even seen. He had heard somewhere or at sometime or another that it was a warning of impending death if a possum came right up to someone or to someone’s home like that. Joshua had just reared back to kick at it when he heard a gunshot. His head whipped around looking out through the trees toward the river. His first thought was poachers and that someone was hunting out of season, but the immediate firing of a second shot that he heard hit the wall behind him, changed his mind fast. He knew they were shooting at him!

His eyes went from the woods to the area around him. The light from the kitchen window that was directly behind him illuminated much of the porch. He glanced toward the woods again and then back to the window. With the light of the kitchen behind him, he was like a duck in a shooting gallery!