The Killing King of Gratis (19 page)

He collected some of his own blood over the previous days and splattered it around the crime scene. The investigators should find his DNA intermingled with his father’s. His hope was that both father and son would be suspected victims of foul play, with the circumstances being a burglary gone wrong. Once he was done with all the money transfers, nothing would be traceable to him. He would be enjoying a session with someone new.

First, he needed to ditch the old Ford pickup into in the Neck, and then feed his father to that same muck. He congratulated himself for finding some use for the god forsaken hole.

Skipper felt renewed, like he did just before he left as a teen for the University of Florida, but with one difference. He had no trepidation about the future. All the ties were cut, and he was about to charge into the world for which he waited so long.

Gratis, this dude is almost done with you. This dude only has one more job to finish. Then his time is complete
. He smiled at the thought.

Meg Jones would be his last session north of the border. He wanted to make it special. This one would be his Gratis capstone, and the folks around here would remember it for a very long time.
They’ll know to lock their doors from now on, that is for damn sure. Serves them all right.

A
my loved looking through Delroy’s file on the case.

There was a reason he was a good lawyer. He was thorough, took copious notes, and broke his thoughts and the evidence into very specific categories. She read through his “pros” and “cons” and referenced each supporting element, which he placed in its own separate file. He used this system because it helped him understand all the elements of any case, how they fit together, and how to build an argument which addressed their relative strengths and weaknesses. The longer he practiced the more he appreciated organization and preparation. It wasn’t a sexy way to practice law, but it got the job done for him.

“Did you speak to every truck owner in here, Delroy?”

“Some of them, a few were dead. The ones we could speak to were able to explain what happened to their truck and we were able to trace it from there. The only problem is that for some of the dead ones the records simply don’t exist. I don’t know if they sold their trucks, or maybe just stopped driving them off the farm. If that happened we have no way to trace what happened to them. The tag office in this county was pretty slack back in the sixties and seventies, and a lot of records are just flat gone.”

“Do you have a list of the dead owners?”

“Under the truck section of the file and the ‘owners’ subsection.”

She opened the file and went to that section. Delroy sat at his desk, put his feet up, and shut his eyes. As good as it was to have Amy here in his office, he was getting tired.

Newt had been transferred to the Gratis County jail that morning. The District Attorney had already leaked to the media that the circumstances “would probably merit us seeking the death penalty.” The national media was also starting to sniff around, and Delroy needed some time to rest and recharge.

Being in the spotlight sounded great. The reality was that investigating the case was now harder. Anybody who knew anything about the case, but demanded discretion, would never speak with him now. Not only would the press hound them, but everyone knew that Althea, the last witness, was probably killed for what she knew.

“Well, did you talk to the family of these dead owners? Maybe they can help.”

“Motte was going to do that. He got pulled off from helping me when Newt got arrested. What you see is all we have.”

Amy frowned.

“You know, Delroy, we need to speak with these folks. They might have something we can use.”

“Well speak to them then. I’m not stopping you. I don’t need a play by play of what needs to be done right now.” Delroy heard his voice come out louder than he meant it to. He immediately regretted it.

“Look Amy, I’m sorry about that. I’m just a little tired and we have a lot to do. We’re going to be defending against three murders. That’s a lot of work for no money. Anytime you see something we need to do, just do it. I trust your opinion. You don’t have to ask me whether we need to do something on this case or not.”

The whole time Delroy was speaking, Amy was making copies of the file. She stood over the machine for five minutes after Delroy apologized, tapping her foot as the old machine finally wheezed out the last blotty copy.

“Delroy, I’m going to take your advice. I think maybe I’ll just take the file and do things you are too “tired” or stupid to do yourself. Next time you get someone to work a murder case for nothing but your gratitude, maybe you’ll think before opening your mouth and proving what an asshole you are.” With that, Amy click-clacked out of his office, slamming the door behind her.

Delroy closed his eyes again. He hated being short with Amy but was worried about Meg and Peck. He knew it was time for them to come home. Anna was telling him every day that it was safe and that they wouldn’t leave the house. “Besides Delroy, I have police protection. The sheriff himself comes over almost every night to check on things.”

Still, Delroy couldn’t shake the feeling that they were better off hidden. One deputy outside and one middle aged love-besotted sheriff inside didn’t seem like much protection to him. He much preferred the pack of dogs and the defensive lineman at Cozette’s.

Maybe next week
, he thought. He knew the children had to come home, but not just yet. There was still time to figure out who the real killer was, and he dearly wanted to do that before the kids came in from the Neck. He didn’t want to make any decisions that led to more deaths. He was already living with the guilt of Althea’s death and couldn’t take anymore. Not as a newly sober man, anyway.

P
eck went fishing that morning and caught fourteen bream. They weren’t that big, but they would be a good complement to the night’s dinner. Matthew would fry them in the fryer along with the hushpuppies, and Cozette would throw shrimp in there as well. With slaw they would have a feast.

Meg watched her brother cleaning the fish. He was squeamish doing this same chore at the beginning of the summer. Matthew worked with him since then, showing him the best way to do it, and now he could clean all fourteen in no time. He was brown and his hair was bleached blond from the sun. She was surprised at how grown up and handsome he looked.

As he was finishing up the last fish, Meg walked up to him and sat down on grass. Peck ignored her and packed the fish onto the ice in the cooler beside him. He did this chore just the way Matthew showed him. He knew Matthew would check his work when he started up the fryer.

“Little brother, are you bored?” Meg gave a look that let Peck know she was bored.

“Not too bad. I have these fish to finish up, then I’m going to help Matthew get the hushpuppies started.” Matthew had a ritual for his hushpuppies, making sure the batter and oil were just right.

“Well, do you want to see Mommy?” Meg got right to it.

Peck was silent for a moment and then sighed. “I miss Mommy.”

Meg sat up and put her arm around her little brother. “Well, we’re going to see her tonight.”

Peck stared at her. “We’re going home?”

Meg was disappointed. She expected to hear a lot more enthusiasm than that.

“Come on Baby Brother, aren’t you glad?”

Peck waited a moment before answering. He was torn. He wanted to see Mommy, but he loved being at Cozette’s place with Matthew and his dog pack. Matthew was taking him hunting again in the morning, and he wanted to be rested for that.

Meg continued as if she could read his mind.

“We could just go home for a bit tonight, after dinner. Nobody would know but Mommy, and she would have a great surprise. We could all snuggle together. It’s been a long time since we’ve done that.”

The thought of snuggling with his mother caught Peck by surprise. He leaned into his sister and started to cry.

She held him tightly. “We’ll just visit tonight and come back in the morning before anyone wakes up. It’ll be fun, Peck, so there’s no reason to cry.”

They sat there until Peck remembered Matthew was waiting for him in the kitchen. He got up and walked away carrying the cooler in both hands. The sun dried the tears on his cheeks. Meg watched, imagining the look on Mommy’s face when she saw them walk in the door.

Meg knew she would get in trouble with Uncle Delroy, but she could handle him. What she couldn’t handle was another day of nothing but the Neck and the spit of land she inhabited with little boys and dogs. She would risk her uncle’s anger.
After all, I’m almost an adult. He should be worried about me getting angry with him for leaving me here all summer.

This reasoning satisfied her, and she got up to go help Peck with the fish. There was no reason to leave tonight without a proper supper, and she did enjoy Matthew’s cooking.

S
kipper was unstoppable and now he had a plan.

After stabbing his father he drove down to St Simon’s, got his cruiser, and was motoring it back up to the family home in Gratis. He lost some hours retrieving the cruiser but now was finally pointing the nose of his boat up the Bird. The banks of the river floated by him as he helmed the boat. He appreciated the black green beauty of the river. If he missed anything about Gratis, it would be this.

He was going to moor the cruiser on the slip behind his family’s house and take his much smaller fishing boat to go out. The fishing boat had a shallow hull and could get through most areas in the Neck, if needed.

At this point he didn’t know whether he would have to go into the swamp or whether he would stay on the river. Once he was done he would take everything, including his father’s body, with him on the cruiser, and then motor back down the river and finally out to sea. From there, he would then begin his new life in the Bahamas. The women there were beautiful.

First, he had to find Meg. He couldn’t start his new life until he properly finished his old one. It might be risky, but nothing worth doing was easy. He smiled as he remembered his father telling him that over and over, conveniently forgetting that he himself married into wealth.

He wasn’t sure where Meg was, which was a problem. He thought she might be at one of two places. He hoped she was back at her mother’s house. It would be so easy to pick her up there. It was only yards from the riverbank to the house.

Skipper knew that a sheriff’s deputy would be parked in front of the house, but the deputy would nod off to sleep if he waited late enough. He also knew that, although the sheriff was over most nights, he always left around midnight. He grimaced at the sheriff’s notions of being a gentleman. The security, as it was, would be easy to breach.

Tonight he would wait there for Meg. If she got near the water he would grab her and be gone.

If he didn’t get her there the task would be much harder. At the other likely hiding place he would have to deal with the Neck, a gun toting brother and sister, and a pack of fairly vicious dogs. He would do it but would rather not have to. His odds of success were cut in half if he had to go to Cozette’s to meet up for his last session in Gratis. He was still amazed that the sheriff never thought to look for the children there before Newt was found.

When he got to the dock behind his childhood home he tied the cruiser up and walked to the house. As he came in the back door he caught a whiff of his father’s decomposing body. It had been two days since his death. Georgia’s awful summer heat was getting to it even though he was blasting the air conditioner. He should have already done something with the corpse, but the logistics of getting the cruiser kept him from taking care of that task.

He went into the study and eyed his father’s decomposing husk. The old man was a mess. He was bruised, covered in blood, and had a gaping knife hole in his chest. Skipper could still see the arrogance etched into his face, though. He knew it would be there until the flesh was torn from his body.
The gators will take care of that
.

He went over to the bar in the study and made himself a Bombay and tonic. There he sat across from his father in one of the desk chairs contemplating the body and sipping his drink. The old man was really gone and for a moment he was scared.

The moment passed. “No need for parents, friends, nothing. Money, a boat, and me, me, me, maybe some gin.” He spoke to himself and then gulped his drink down. “Alright son, you can have one more, but we have to be at the top of our game tonight.” He got up and made another drink.

The grand house was silent. Skipper remembered when he was a child and how loud the fights were between his parents. He recalled how silent it became after his mother died. He resented her for that, for leaving him in a quiet house with a person who didn’t talk to him.
Unless it was to tell me I was doing something wrong.

“Damn man, you got to stop remembering the past. You’re about to leap forward.” He was starting to speak to himself a lot. He was aware of it but it didn’t worry him. He liked the sound of his own voice.

“Skipper needs to get ready. He has a date, another session, if he can find her.” The thought of Meg startled him and he dropped his glass. He would find her, that he knew. He would be her first and last and then would leave this place forever.

Skipper went outside to the pool house and heard the first rumble of thunder while he was showering. A storm was coming in off the coast and was expected to last for a few hours. An earlier weather report noted that the storm would skirt south of Gratis, but the thunder indicated it was coming straight through. He worried that it would affect his plans. If it stormed the river would be too rough for his fishing boat to handle.

After showering he put on some jeans and a t-shirt. An old rain jacket was dug out from the back of his closet. He turned on the television and decided that another gin and tonic would be appropriate while waiting for the bad weather to pass.