The Killing King of Gratis (26 page)

BOOK: The Killing King of Gratis
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When the bad man finally made his sister undress and tied her up, it was as if Peck no longer existed to him. He was invisible and then Peck knew. It was time to take care of business.
Just like I know how to kiss Momma on the cheek
.

Peck slid his jeans leg up and took his knife out of its sheath. Through all the waiting the bad man never checked to see if Peck was carrying anything. The knife was sharper than a barber’s razor, with an edge that Peck honed every night. He cut the plastic ties around his wrist and started to go toward the bad man when he saw another figure enter the cavernous room. Even in the dark he could tell it was Uncle Delroy. He wanted so badly to run to him.

Then the bad man raised the gun at his uncle. Peck could feel the sweat pouring down his face, and heard the shallow rasps of his own breath in his ears. He thought he would freeze but then heard Matthew’s voice, this time shouting.

“It’s time son! It’s time to take care of your business! Your time is now, it’s now! You’ve got this, boy, it’s yours!”

With that, Peck plunged his knife deep into the bad man’s hamstring, twisting it as it went in. The summer hardened Peck’s arms with new muscles, and he didn’t stop pushing until the knife hit bone. The bad man let out a deafening scream after his gun blasted.

Peck pulled the knife out and readied to stick the bad man again. Matthew’s voice rang in Peck’s head.

“That’s right Peck, do like old Mr. Bobcat. He’s good at waiting, too, and when he hunts he goes for the eyes and the balls. He knows that will drop anything. Don’t matter what you are, you’re gonna fall if your eyes or balls get cut.”

Peck couldn’t reach the bad man’s eyes, but his balls were at shoulder level. He plunged the knife into the bad man’s crotch, twisted it, and neutered him with a turn of his wrist.

The bad man fell down now, grabbing himself and writhing in pain. The shotgun fell to the floor and, without thinking, Peck went over and took it out of the bad man’s reach. He brought it over to his uncle.

Delroy was bleeding from a hole in his shoulder and arm. When Peck stabbed Skipper, the gun slid to the left of where he was aiming but not so far that he missed Delroy. It’s hard to miss anything with a shotgun in such a small space. Peck took his shirt off and tied a tourniquet around his uncle’s arm the way Matthew showed him. “Boy, you gotta be ready to take care of yourself in the old Neck. 911 don’t come out here.”

Delroy sat up and took the gun with his good arm. Peck then walked over to his sister and took the rope from around her neck. She fell to the ground and took her little brother with her, holding him.

“Oh, baby brother, my brave, baby brother,” was all she could say. She held him tightly, her tears bathing them both. Just like that, as soon as Peck’s time came, it was over. He dropped his face into his sister’s bosom and started crying as well. For such a little boy the last few hours seemed a lifetime. Things felt too different. Peck didn’t like it at all.

It was this crying, along with the howls of a very bad man and the whispers of a very scared sister, that Kero and Tommy heard as they ran into the tunnel room. When they got there they stopped, amazed at the scene before them.

57.
Delroy Takes a Ride

T
he weeks following that night in the tunnels were busy, but things finally sorted themselves out.

Tommy was quick to get Broyles to drop the charges against Newt. Broyles resisted at first. He made a hell of a production announcing the capture and pursuit of the death penalty against Newt. He didn’t want to look like a fool to the voting public. Tommy convinced him that the faster he dropped charges against Newt, the more apt those voters would believe that he was a fair man. Broyles was self-aware enough to know he wasn’t a fair man, but Tommy was right. The charges were dropped two days after Tommy and Kero dragged Skipper, naked and bleeding, in from the tunnels. Newt was then transferred back to Chatham County.

Chatham County took another seventy-two hours. The District Attorney went so far as to say that the Gratis case had no bearing on his case, and that “this killer was caught lying down with poor Merry Clemens admiring his work.”

When news of Skipper’s capture spread, however, a bartender at Pinky Master’s came forward on the evening news. He remembered Skipper in the bar on the day of Merry’s murder. One of his old girlfriends, a junior at SCAD, was there and told him this “creepy old dude” kept looking at her and her friends. Skipper was that creepy old dude.

The Chatham detectives then pulled all traffic cam footage from the hours surrounding Merry’s murder and identified Skipper’s Jaguar pulling off I-16 at almost six that evening. After that, the District Attorney relented and dropped all charges against Newt “pending further investigation.” Newt walked out of the Chatham County jail that night. Kero was there waiting to take his friend home.

Skipper refused to make any statements following his arrest. He was taken to Gratis Memorial and sewn back together, at least somewhat. They saved his life but they couldn’t save his testicles. When he finally came to, Skipper refused to talk to anyone and appeared catatonic.

He was taken to Georgia Regional, where he was to be housed until he learned to speak again. Delroy figured he was probably faking to set up an incompetency defense. More importantly, Skipper didn’t want to get placed in the general prison population. A castrato, who happened to be a would-be child molester, would not fair too well with the other inmates. Skipper didn’t need his law degree to figure that out, so there he stayed, not saying a word. Delroy hoped he woke up sweating every night, missing his freedom, and his balls.

Although the manhunt was over, news teams still swelled Daddy Jack’s with thirsty cameramen and roving reporters buying rounds for anyone who might have any new scoop. This was the juiciest story most of them had seen in years, whether they were from Atlanta or elsewhere. One local swore she even gave directions to Diane Sawyer. When pressed for details, however, she couldn’t explain why Diane was driving an old mint green Taurus.

Delroy was still recovering, his left arm hanging in a sling, when he decided to go to Daddy Jack’s the second Saturday after that night at the turtle palace. He and Amy walked down into the Rendezvous, his hand grasping her shoulder for balance as he came down the narrow, steep staircase. Amy told him he shouldn’t have gone out, but he was stir crazy after days in the hospital. He needed to be around other people.

They went up to the bar and ordered two Sweetwaters. Newt gave them their pints moments later. Out of deference to his attorney he tried not to eye Amy, but couldn’t help sneaking a peek at her when he could.

“Damn, Delroy, your woman ain’t nothing but fine,” he said under his breath. He wondered if he should steal her from the man who gave him his life back. He would have to ponder that one.

They sat there at the end of the bar, Delroy’s injured arm dangling while Amy held his good hand. They enjoyed being together in front of everyone. Running around and calling themselves co-counsels was one thing. Knowing they might become a real team was another. They got through one very bad situation together and, for now, basked in the calm.

“My goodness, look at you two, reminds me of my junior prom. Make sure you don’t get your braces all latched together.” Kero laughed at the two, smiling at his own joke. He was on his third rum and coke. It didn’t take much to make him smile.

“Kero, I’m just taking care of my friend. He’s had a hard time. I am a little worried at how that beer is going to react with all the pain meds he has in his system, though.” Amy kept holding Delroy’s hand and took a sip of her beer.

“None of y’all have to worry about a thing. I thought I might have a drink tonight so I didn’t take a pill all day. Nobody’s going to get any story about a local lawyer falling on his face, at least not tonight.” Delroy smiled and grimaced at the same time.

“Well, that’s just so damned admirable Delroy. Placing your growing pill addiction on hold so you can drink is a hell of a sacrifice.” Kero started to say more but a couple of patrons on the porch started mouthing off to each other. He left them to check things out.

“I’ve told you two that I will throw you off the porch and into the river if you don’t stop that. This place is a classy juke joint, not like the joints where your mommas met your daddies!”

Delroy and Amy both laughed at that and finished their beers. Delroy was about to order another when Amy told him to wait.

“Amy, let me just get another. I have seriously earned it.”

“I know you have, but trust me, I have somewhere to take you, and you’ll like it. Let’s go.”

Delroy just sat on his stool eyeing her. Amy spoke again. “Delroy, I know exactly where your arm hurts. Do not make me prove it to you.”

That was all he needed to hear.
Damn she’s hot
. Delroy paid up and followed Amy up the stairs and into the early evening air.

They had parked Amy’s BMW in front of Daddy Jack’s when they arrived. When they came out the Chevelle was parked in its place. Delroy looked at Amy, a little confused.

“Delroy, get in.”

“Amy, you know I can’t drive a stick right now. It’s going to be awhile.”

Amy crooked her head. “Well, I didn’t say get in the driver’s seat, did I? Go over there and get in.”

Delroy smiled and got in the passenger’s seat. Amy bent down at the front tire, got the keys from where they were hidden, and jumped behind the wheel.

“Amy, where’s your car?” Delroy was enjoying this.

“I got Anna to drop your car here and I let her take my car with her. I believe she’s going to take Meg and Peck down to Tybee Island for a very long weekend. I expect it to last until at least next Friday. I hear Tommy may have plans to be there at the same time, by the way, just so you know.”

“Amy, those two kids, at the beach in your car, well, don’t blame me when you still have sand in your seats until Christmas.” Amy acted like she didn’t hear him and gunned the Chevelle down the road.

The last few weeks of tension left his body at just that moment. Things seemed like they might become normal again. The children might need more help, maybe some therapy, but only time would tell. Meg was a little quieter than usual, but that might be how any almost fourteen year old girl acts, for all Delroy knew.

Peck, on the other hand, was better than ever. He looked his uncle in the eye when he spoke, and Delroy could swear his voice was lower. When Anna told him Matthew would lose his leg he didn’t cry at all. He got her to take him to the hospital and slept on a second chair that Cozette insisted they bring into the room. When Matthew awoke after the operation, Peck was there. The two talked about the advantages of having one less leg in a cramped duck blind.

Delroy was worried about Terrence, but maybe things would work out there, too. Cozette was hard on Delroy about Althea, but she knew it wasn’t the child’s fault. Terrence trailed behind Cozette like a puppy when she came home from the store every day during that summer. She found that she enjoyed being a mother, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Amy got the juvenile judge to enter an emergency order granting Terrence’s temporary custody to Cozette. Delroy hoped it would grow into something more than temporary. He owed Terrence and he knew he always would. He was, after all, the boy’s attorney for life.

For now, though, Amy was motoring north and the roadway was starting to roll through the Georgia pines.

“Where are we going Amy? You gonna fill me in, or you gonna make me keep guessing?”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, Delroy?” Amy glanced at him. “I made sure your neighbor topped off the tank on the Lola. We’re going to have a nice dinner tonight at Crooked Creek. You’ve earned a little time away. Anyway, you and me, we have some unfinished business, yes we do. I believe you owe me at least one breakfast in bed, maybe a few.” She laughed and turned up the radio. “Statesboro Blues” wailed into the gathering dusk.

The Chevelle growled as they made their way north.
Normal
, he thought,
things might get to be way better than normal. Things might just get to be all together pleasant around here.
Delroy couldn’t stop smiling at the very notion. Hell, he wouldn’t if he could.

About the Author

Jay Jackson is a practicing attorney who lives with his wife and children in Atlanta, Georgia. He learns something new from them, and their two dogs, everyday.

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