Kentucky Murders: A Small Town Murder Mystery (16 page)

Kate lay back as Zack’s fingers gently explored her body. His touch sent a tingling pleasure like low voltage electricity though her. She wanted him to hurry, but, at the same time, to take forever. Her emotions, her desire, her lust came from somewhere so far down within her, that it felt like a warm current rising from the deepest icy ocean depths. This wasn’t the first time she had felt sexual pleasure, but this was so much mor
e
a passion she’d never before come close to experiencing. And this was just the foreplay.

---

He knew that they were both ready and he slid on top of her.

“Slowly,” she said.

He would try, but he couldn’t make any promise
s


Chapter 31

Days passed while Zack kept to himself at work, waiting. The sheriff would have his time to act, but if nothing happened, it would be Zack’s turn. However, he still wasn’t sure what his next move would be. He ran various plans through his head, searching for the best solution.

On Thursday, he and Kate went to dinner. In search of a pizza parlor, they drove toward Cincinnati and found a Shakey’s Pizza off an exit ramp ten miles or so south of the city.

After they’d ordered, he got up and went to the drink bar.

“What’s been going on this week?” Kate asked as he returned to the table carrying two frosted mugs and a pitcher of beer. “Is Tommy still keeping quiet?”

“Yeah.” He sat and began filling the mugs. “He’s definitely avoiding me. Also, one of his friends, the big guy, has been watching the police station. I guess they want to know if I go back.”

“And, are you going to?”

“Yes, tomorrow. That sheriff isn’t doing anything. He could care less.” He slid Kate’s glass across the table to her and grabbed her hand when she reached for the mug. “Kate, if he doesn’t follow through, I’ll have to.”

“What do you mean? What can you do?”

Before answering, he sipped his beer. “I’ve got a few ideas.” He saw her sigh and quickly added, “Please, Kate. Trust me. None of my ideas involve confronting Tommy directly. I’ll tell you what: I’ll let you know before I do anything. In fact, I’ll probably need your help.” He felt an obligation to her and didn’t want to keep secrets from her.

“Good. I want to be involved.”

Zack opened his mouth to speak, but paused when the waitress stepped up with their pizza and set it in the middle of the table. “Anything else I can get you?”

“No, we’re fine. Thanks,” said Kate.

Zack quickly pulled off a piece and dropped it onto his plate. “I need to check something out tomorrow.” He took a bite and chewed. “Sorry,” he said with his mouth full.

“I know; you’re starved again. You always are.”

He shrugged, swallowed, and continued. “If this idea doesn’t pan out, I’ll need your help for Plan B.”

“And what might that be?” She bit into a piece of pizza.

“I’ll let you know if it comes to that.”

---

Friday after work, Zack swung by the police station, where he found the sheriff and a deputy who looked to be in his mid-twenties. The sheriff frowned when he saw Zack.

“Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“What do you want this time?”

“I came by to find out how the investigation was going. Have you found anything yet?”

He stood up from his chair and walked around, leaning on the front of his desk. He produced a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end, spit it into a nearby trashcan, and lit the cigar. Finally, he spoke. “If I did find something, why should I tell you about it?”

“Sheriff, I’m only interested in the truth. What’s wrong with that?” Zack hoped that deep down the sheriff was an honest lawman who would do the right thing. He was just a little narrow-minded and prejudiced. When it came to the law, however, he would follow it to the letter. At least, that’s what Zack hoped.

The sheriff’s frown faded. “Well, the house was clean. Nothing. I talked with Tommy and the others. They all have alibis verified by half a dozen witnesses. I still think some punk drifters did it. There’s just no evidence to prove otherwise.”

“Is that it, then? You’re going to write it off to thi
s
this theory and forget about the whole thing?” Zack pleaded once more. “Won’t you ask for help to take fingerprints? After all, this is no longer just an assault. It’s a murder/robbery.”

“I told you before. We don’t like strangers taking care of our business. Besides, I would have to have something solid to go on before I could even ask for the state police’s help. By now, there are a thousand fingerprints in that place. I’m afraid it’s too late.”

He was probably right. It was too late. The evidence, if there ever was any, had been destroyed by now. But somehow Zack couldn’t accept that. Deep down, he knew that, even without evidence, he had to expose Max’s murderer. He was almost sure that Tommy was the culprit, but somehow he had to prove it.

After a moment of silence, Zack looked up at the sheriff.

“Don’t you stir up any more trouble around here,” he said, shaking his finger at Zack. “You need to accept the fact that we’ll probably never know what happened.”

Zack’s face was blank, as he said simply, “No,” and turned to walk out.

“You come down here from Detroit and think you can push us around,” called the sheriff from behind. “You’re still an outsider here, and folks don’t take kindly to you making accusations about our people.”

Zack opened the door, turned to take one last look at the sheriff, and stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight.

Chapter 32

As he drove out of town, he knew he was alone, except for Kate, of course. And between the two of them, they would somehow have to avenge his dead friend.

Ten minutes later, he pulled onto what used to be Max’s road. This time he saw no blacktop or white cement curbs. And when he reached the clearing, Max’s shack, not his mother’s house, stood where it should.

Zack took a deep breath and got out of the car. First, he explored the area around the outside of the house, searching for footprints, tire tracks, anything. He found what seemed like hundreds, probably left by the police. His desperation growing, he knocked down the yellow police tape, opened the front door, and went inside. The furniture had all been moved by the sheriff and his men.

Then Zack wondered whether Tommy had returned to the scene of the crime. Had Tommy come back to double-check for that forgotten ite
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the shred that would give him away? Then another thought came to him. Had Tommy even done it? Before Zack had been so convinced, but now? Were the sheriff’s words starting to make sense, or was he just losing interest? After all, Max was gone. Would he know that Zack had caught his killers? Was he standing up on some cloud, looking down, and cheering Zack on?

Zack sat on the old couch, confused. Scanning the room, he noticed the be
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the place where Max had stashed his money. The bare mattress had been stripped, and the money was gone. Thinking back, he recalled seeing the bed on the night he had found Max unconscious.

After a few minutes, he resumed his desperate search with renewed vigor, hoping to find some clues or a shred of evidence to implicate Tommy. But, after an hour of thorough investigating, he still came up empty. He lit the oil lamp when he realized how dark it had gotten. Then he heard something.

He walked to the window and peered out at the headlights that rounded the final curve and approached him. He lifted his hand to block his eyes from the bright light, and he realized who was outside. Tommy braked to a halt and cut his engine. He climbed out of his truck, the headlights still shining on the shack. Before closing the door, he leaned back inside, and removed a long object. As the other four men stepped around to the front of the truck, Zack recognized the object he had removed from the truck. It was a baseball bat.

“Taylor, you get your ass out here,” yelled Tommy. “We want to talk. There must be some sort of agreement we can work out on this here thing.” Then, seconds passed in silence. “Damn it. Either you come out, or we come in and drag you out. It’s your choice.”

Having doused the lantern at the first sign of the truck approaching, Zack now crouched in the darkness. He didn’t have any choice but to comply with Tommy’s demand. He stood and walked outside.

“Turn off the headlights,” he said, shielding his eyes.

The lights died. When the fuzz cleared, he saw Tommy and his familiar followers standing in a semicircle around him. “Okay, talk.”

“You’ve been saying some nasty things about us around town,” said Tommy, from the center of the formation. He held the bat’s handle in one hand and slapped the thick end against his other hand. “But we’re willing to forget all that.”

“In exchange for what?”

“All you have to do is leave town. Find yourself another job in another state, and forget you ever saw this place.”

“And what do I get out of this deal?”

“You get peace of mind.” Tommy held the bat out toward Zack. “And a lot less doctor’s bills. Face it. You’re not wanted here. I’m giving you a chance, boy.”

Zack could hardly make out the features of Tommy’s face as the last rays of daylight faded away. “You,” said Zack, and then he paused before continuing, “killed a man. What about that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you find anything here? Did that skinny-ass sheriff find anything? Well, did you?”

Zack scanned the line of men. The big guy on the end took a step forward, but Zack held his ground. “Maybe,” he said.

Tommy’s head moved back and forth, looking at his men. Then he turned back to Zack. “You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?” Zack couldn’t see the expression on Tommy’s face in the dim light, but he hoped that it was one of uncertainty.

“Yeah? You didn’t find anything!”

Now the daylight was completely gone, and surprisingly, he could see even better. The stars and moon lit the night with a different kind of light. Colors seemed to have faded away, replaced by black and shades of gray.

Tommy turned and walked toward his truck. He reached inside the cab and pulled out a beer. After leaning the bat on the side of the truck, he removed a buck knife from the case strapped to his belt. He turned the can over, gouged a hole in the bottom with the knife, and lifted it to his mouth. With his mouth covering the hole, he swung the can right-side up and popped the top. The beer drained down his throat in about three seconds. He tossed the beer can and picked up the bat. He returned to his place at the center with the others. “Well?” he asked. “What’s your decision?”

“Was that supposed to impress me?”

“No, not impress you. Just give you time to decide. Well, you leaving town?”

Zack could lie, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t beat him up anyway. Or he could refuse and get his head bashed in for sure. Some choice.

“If I leave town,” he said slowly, “Kate goes with me.”

“Damn it, Taylor. What the hell is your problem?”

“Let’s beat the hell out of him,” called out the big guy.

“Wait,” said Tommy, holding out his hand. He looked back at Zack, saying, “Kate’s my girl. You know that. Now why don’t you just pack your stuff and leave tonight?”

“Kate’s not your girl anymor
e
at least, not according to her.”

“She doesn’t know what she wants right now. Forget her. You’ll leave tonight, alone, or else. No more bullshit. You’ve got five seconds. Starting now.”

Zack looked into the blackness of the woods. If he cut around the house, he might be able to make it. No time for guessing, he ran.

He’d caught them by surprise, and it took Tommy a few seconds to react. By the time he shouted, “Get him,” Zack was a few steps from the woods, some twenty yards past the shack.

In the darkness, Zack slammed into a tree, spinning him to the ground. He blinked several times to adjust and stood up quickly. Now able to make out the darker obstacles around him, he ran, dodging back and forth between the trees like a slalom skier through his gates. A minute later, he crouched behind a bush and listened while rubbing his sore shoulder.

“Tommy shouted instructions. “You go that way. You others, that way. I’ll go down the middle. Spread out. We’ll find him.”

Zack slid, hunched low, to his right. He then came forward toward the clearing, figuring he’d outflanked the skirmish line. Stopping at the edge of the field, he scanned the area for a guard, but they had left no one behind. He could still hear Tommy directing his men in their search effort through the woods.

At Tommy’s truck, Zack popped the hood and reached inside. He found the distributor cable and jerked it out. He tossed it toward the woods. That would slow them down, he thought. As he jumped into his car and started the engine, he heard Tommy yell, “He’s back in the clearing!” Zack slipped the transmission into gear and drove away.