Bitter Bones

by N. C. Lewis

  A car engine revved in the street below. The windows rattled. I peered down to see a young woman in a mini skirt and flowing long hair climb into a sports car, it took off, tires screeching around a corner.

  Wandale's vacant eyes shifted from Chastity's chest and slid up towards the ceiling where they examined a particularly dark stain. Suddenly, the eyes shifted back to Chastity, this time her face. In a grotesque parody of a smile Wandale bared yellow stained crooked teeth set in deep pink gums. The next words he spoke were slow and deliberate.

  "Garrick's woman, eh? Well, he said he didn't love you."

  Chastity let out a wild sob, and shrunk back into her chair. It seemed overly dramatic, as if she was on stage playing Cathy in Wuthering Heights.

  Wandale's lips tugged and the crooked yellow stained teeth reappeared. He was enjoying himself, but he was not yet done.

  "After your kid died," he continued in his wheezy Wisconsin accent, "Garrick said he couldn't continue with the pretense any longer. He blamed you for the child's death. That's why he left you. Why didn't you give him a divorce? You know he's not coming back." Wandale was grinning all out now, a full mouth of crooked yellow stained teeth on display.

  Chastity sat frozen as his words began to sink in. Her bitter sobs confirmed her new realization.

  "I'm not Garrick's ex-wife, I'm his…" The voice trailed off into a whimper.

  Wandale laughed, it was a cruel and vengeful cackle. "My brother said you were a beauty, and he was right. Perhaps you'd like to share a little brotherly love." The revolting tongue reappeared and made little darting movements across his cracked lips. I glanced toward the door, now would be a good time to leave.

  But Wandale lay back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. For an instant, I thought he had slipped into a drug induced coma. I half expected him to curl up into a tiny ball terrified at the pink panthers with lizard heads crawling up the walls. But his eyes flickered open, the wheezy voice dropping to a mumbled whisper.

  "Garrick had the best of everything, he went to the best family, he attended the best schools, ate from the finest tables, and had the best women. And what did I get? A violent father and a spiteful mother. I didn't have any friends like Garrick did. As soon as I got close to anyone it was time to move to another military base. Garrick lived on easy street, and I got the flea pit motel."

  "You had Teddy," I said rubbing my perspiring hands on my jeans.

  Wandale's eyes narrowed.

  "Uh-huh, I wrote to the old man two or three times a year. The randy goat was always good for a few extra dollars. But I deserved it after the mess he left me in."

  A sideways glance at Chastity, she got the message. It was time to leave. Before we moved, Wandale sat up, his eyes blazing. "A father should never run out on his kids!"

  We clambered to our feet and stumbled towards the door. Wandale sprang up in front of us. I saw a vein pulsating with violence in his thick neck, his nostrils flared, and the vacant eyes were now wide open exposing red streaks across the whites. He wasn't smiling.

  Chapter 38

  Wandale stood in front of the door, his muscular frame blocking the only way out of the room, and he was muttering.

  "Dad should've been there for me as a child. He wasn't. Then when he died the money dried up. The man had money, but didn't leave me a penny. That's why I went to see Garrick, I figured pops left him all the money, I wanted my share."

  Wandale raised his hands to his face and let out a thundering sob. The man needs help, I thought, he's suffering from some sort of persecution mania brought on by the drugs. As he continued to sob I grabbed for the latch, threw open the door and we scurried past him out into the hall. He made no attempt to stop us or follow, but stood staring with those dark hollow empty eyes.

  Halfway toward the stairwell it hit me, the missing link. I stopped, Chastity just behind me, and turned. "What happened the last time you visited with Garrick?"

  Wandale stepped into the hall. What he said next sent a shiver down my spine.

  "Like I said lady, I ain't seen Garrick in years. On my last visit to Medlin Creek I didn't see him either. I wandered along the Riverwalk, and across a trail to an abandoned property where I saw an old man with a cedar cane walking stick. He looked a little crazy, so I hurried away, but he followed behind. I lost him by an abandoned oil well. That was the last time I visited Medlin Creek, and I ain't going back."

  I pressed my palm to my cheek sucking in a deep breath of the stale sour air. I now knew who killed Garrick Markovich, and I thought I knew why.

  Chapter 39

  The doorbell rang, its jarring sound rattling along the staircase and out to where we stood. Then the patter of feet, the rusty squeal of the front door opening, and an inaudible mumble, masculine.

  Wandale's lips tugged into a thin smile, and the merciless eyes focused on my face like a lens on a mechanical camera. The eyelids shut. Click.

  "Lady, what did you say your name was?"

  I didn't answer but kept moving towards the staircase where we turned to look back. Wandale stood in the door frame, a giant silhouette with his hands on his hips.

  Chastity glanced in my direction. If I hadn't been paying attention I would've missed it, a flash of apprehension, even fear. It appeared momentarily and was gone. It was so fleeting that I wouldn't testify to its existence in a court of law, but it was there alright. Then she spoke.

  "Garrick's body was discovered several days ago in Medlin Creek. I want you to know that your brother is dead, and," she continued raising a chubby finger, "so are you."

  Chastity reached into her handbag and rushed toward Wandale. I stood and gaped as a blade flashed in the murky light, a muffled cry, and I watched as he staggered back into the room and collapsed. Chastity stepped through the doorway with the dagger still in her hand and struck again, and again, and again.

  Chapter 40

  I froze.

  The regret in Chastity's face was instant, but it was too late. She looked wildly about her, but there was no one else around. Only I saw what happened.

  "Ollie," Chastity growled. "Wandale had to die."

  I drew a sharp breath when I saw the side of his neck.

  "Why?" I said curtly struggling to hold down my last meal.

  With an expressionless face she turned, hard eyed and said, "As long as he lived there was a chance he would discover what happened to his father's money. I had to track him down, and eliminate that problem. You see, Ollie, the money belongs to me, not illegitimate children. I volunteered to take care of him as he grew older. Bobby and I were like family to that man. Look on it as payment for services rendered."

  Unconsciously, I rubbed my bare arms and felt my skin tighten. "So, you killed Garrick Markovich for the money?"

  Her voice, equally compounded of bitterness and satisfaction, cackled breathlessly. "If Garrick had got a divorce and married me none of this would've happened."

  Chastity paused, then shrugged as if she was tossing off the last of her integrity. "I sent Bobby to 'have words with him', but Garrick refused to play ball, and it ended in a fight. Garrick had to die after that, it was the man's own fault."

  A shiver chilled me at the realization of her motive, and I ran.

  In a blind panic I stumbled into the stairwell. A tall muscular figure, climbing up the stairs, blocked my path. I swiveled my head, a pair of dark merciless eyes stared back.

  "Bobby Williams!"

  Chapter 41

  "Come on," he hissed, "back upstairs."

  Up I climbed, with Bobby so close behind I could smell his breath, sweet and malty, he had been drinking.

  In the hallway, Bobby's eyes stuck like glue on the slumped figure in the doorway of room 2d in a sort of dumb horror. He drew a sharp breath.

  "Sis," he said glaring at Chastity, "we gotta get out of here."

  "Let me finish the job then we can go," she said. Her eyes shifted to me.

  My mouth was parc
hed, the voice raspy. "Why did you kill Joseph Shine?"

  Chastity's eyes grew wide and she hissed, "I won't be blackmailed by anyone. Joseph Shine thought I was a cash machine, I'm not. I paid him to keep quiet over what he saw. But the man kept coming back for more. How was I to know the fool would see Bobby bury the body by your oil well! His last request for money was the final straw. I told him I was not going to pay for his drunken habits any longer. He was no more good than an eyeless needle, he won't be—"

  "Sis," Bobby broke in impatiently, "let's finish the job, and go."

  Chastity chuckled, a faint, weak little chuckle. "Sorry, Ollie, no one knows I came to Austin with you, except Bobby. I guess, your death will go down as one of those unsolvable crimes just like Garrick's…or Teddy's."

  "Teddy," I croaked.

  "The man was on his way out, all I did was give a little shove." She tipped back her head and let out a loud raucous laugh.

  The shear panic I felt had left, replaced by a sense of calmness. "Chastity, you won't get away with this. Millie Watkins and Bob Lukey are on the way here right now."

  Again, she laughed, but there was doubt in her eyes. She flashed a quick questioning glance at Bobby who stood directly behind me blocking the entrance to the stairwell.

  The doorbell rang.

  Chastity's right hand flickered and the blade, blood stained, flashed as she lunged with a vicious cry toward my stomach. In an instant, which stretched out for eternity, the words of Master Ironsmith poured into my conscious mind.

  'Tonight, you will die more times than you survive. Nevertheless, training gives a slight edge. Now, it's your turn.'

  I made a small pivot sideways and my arms shot upwards. The knife whistled past plunging into Bobby. Then my right hand grasped the top of Chastity's knife hand, and my left hand the bottom—kote geshi. With a vigorous pivot of my body her wrist twisted, bones snapped, hand opened and then her entire body swiveled clean through the air clattering down into the brown stained wall. Bobby let out a startled cry, the knife still in his chest, and slumped to the floor. Chastity lay motionless against the wall.

  "Police, no one move."

  A uniformed police officer, with a gun in his hand, clambered out of the stairwell. Another officer followed him, again with gun drawn. Behind him Detective Inspector Rodriguez, a sharp faced man who wore half framed eyeglasses with light blue tinted lenses. Bob leaning on a cane with Millie followed close behind. It was only then that I began to scream.

  Chapter 42

  Three days later…

  "…and then Detective Inspector Rodriguez took statements from all of us, after that they let us go." I was in Moozoos at my favorite table by the window surrounded by a gaggle of friends and interested onlookers.

  "Detective Inspector Jonathan Rodriguez, isn't that Emma Garcia's brother?" asked Ethel Green.

  "Yes, I remember Jonathan when he was a snotty nosed kid. The boy was always getting into mischief. I thought he would either be a cop or a criminal, but I couldn't tell which back then," laughed Martha, the oldest resident in Medlin Creek. She had been wheeled in for her weekly outing by Margaret Linsky, the manager of the residential Home.

  Bob grinned. "Jonathan and I go way back, we often cross paths in my work as a defense attorney. When Millie discovered Wandale had a warrant out for felony possession of a controlled substance—"

  "That's drug possession," interrupted Millie holding onto Bob's arm. We were all grateful for the translation.

  Bob scowled, and continued. "I called Jonathan and he came with us to Cummings Street in Austin, along with a couple of uniformed officers. Of course, we had no idea what had actually taken place. Millie and I were expecting a simple arrest."

  "But I can't understand how Chastity and Bobby could've been so ruthless," said the barista as he handed me a Creek Jolt.

  "While there is no justification for the behavior we do know they had some large financial debts," Millie said in a hushed whispered. "There are some failed stock market investments and ill-timed property investments. I'm still digging, I'm sure there's more."

  Gratia Violeta added, "Bobby liked to gamble, I guess he wasn't very successful."

  "Well," I said. "Bobby certainly had me fooled. Chasity too. It was Bobby who called me about the discovery of the body!"

  Gratia answered. "Ollie, both were members of the Medlin Creek Players. I bet that helped them act out the part of innocent bystanders."

  Margaret asked, "If he buried the body near the well, why didn't he stop the project?"

  The barista spoke up. "Bryant Reynolds is not the type to be messed with. Get his morning coffee order wrong and you'll have a sore head all day. When he gives an order, you say 'yes, sir'. I suspect Bobby volunteered for the project in the hope he could steer the engineers away from the body. When that failed, he simply played out the role of an innocent bystander."

  "The man deserves an Oscar," reflected Millie.

  Deputy Dingsplat, had been sitting patiently listening to the conversation, added. "We may never find the underlying cause of their true motivation. But I suspect, once Bobby is out of hospital, he'll spend the rest of his days in prison. As for Chastity, the authorities are throwing the book at her. First-degree murder, second-degree murder, there may even be a capital murder charge for the slaying of Wandale, whatever the authorities can make stick."

  Roger let out a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness it is over. The mystery of the 'Bitter Bones' has been solved. Chastity Williams will never return to Medlin Creek."

  There was a general murmur of agreement. Then the group broke up, each going off in their own direction to engage in the activities of small-town Texas. Millie had a newspaper article to write, and Roger a new artificial intelligence project to create.

  I was in no hurry and stayed at the table, staring out onto Creek Street. The comforting sounds of the barista at work, the hiss and whir of the espresso machine, the gentle tinkle of China plates, and the scent of coffee and freshly baked cinnamon rolls, reminded me of the good things in life.

  There were still loose ends to be tied up, like Pickle Bramley’s grade scores, and his uncle Bryant Reynold’s demand that I should be fired from my teaching position, and there were the financial concerns around the event center and the oil well. This morning though, it didn't seem to matter.

  I took a sip of the Creek Jolt. The barista 'hadn't spared the horses' with the brandy. The cool sensation in the top of my stomach spread downwards becoming warm as it reached deep into my gut. I took another sip. Already, the worries of the past week were beginning to fade.

  Author Notes

  Nothing makes me happier than the thought of a reader finishing one of my books.

  So, thank you!

  If you enjoyed this story, I hope you'll leave a review at the retail website where you purchased it. Reviews help readers like you discover books they will enjoy and help indie authors like me improve our stories.

  Until next time,

  N.C. Lewis

  P.S. As an indie author, I work hard to bring you entertaining cozy mysteries as fast as I can. I’ve got many more books in the works, and I hope you’ll come along for the ride.

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  Also by N.C. Lewis

  CAPITAL OF TEXAS SERIES

  The Capital of Texas murder mysteries are set in Austin, the capital city of Texas and can be enjoyed in any order:

  Murder in the Bookstore

  Murder by the Clowns

  Murder through the Window

  Murder in the Bullock

  Murder under Mopac

  OLLIE STRATEFORD MURDER MYSTERY SERIES

  The Ollie Stratford murder mysteries are a set in the Hill Country of Texas and offer a light hearted glimpse into small time life. The stories can be enjoyed in any order:

  Texas Troubles
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  Creek Crisis

  Bitter Bones

  Magic Mumbles

  Teddy Tumpin

  Double Dimple

  Angry Arrow

  For an updated list of all books please visit: https://amazon.com/author/nclewis