by Jason Deas
Rachael stood up cautiously, trying not to seem too eager and said in her sweetest Mississippi drawl, “Good morning Mr. James. My name is Rachael Martin and it doesn’t have to be now, but I would be forever grateful if I could take a few moments of your time.”
“You’re not selling insurance are you?” Benny said, shooting a wink in Donny’s direction.
“No sir, I’m not.”
“Ms. Martin, I’m just joshing you. Can’t you see?” Benny said as he pointed at the television, “We know who you are.”
“Mr. James,” Rachael said laughing, giving Benny the remembrance of the southern acting of Reese Witherspoon, “You are the third person that has pulled that joke on me. I see that I have found a good hearted town.”
“You have indeed,” Benny said. “Why don’t we get a cup of coffee and head back to my office? I am afraid I won’t be able to tell you much though.”
“I understand police confidentiality, Mr. James.”
“It’s not that Ms. Martin,” Benny replied. “We haven’t found anything yet.”
Once on the boat, Benny invited Rachael to make herself at home while he quickly showered and dressed for the day.
Rachael tried to hide her admiration for the boat’s interior. She had never been on a houseboat and would have never imagined one to look so homey on the inside. It reminded her of a luxury condo with a view. The kitchen had marble counter tops, a porcelain sink, and custom cabinets.
The living area she was seated in had leather sofas, an extraordinary coffee table decorated with two oriental sculptures and a spread of Architectural Digest magazines. The room was spotless, as if it was ready to be photographed for a piece in the magazines covering the table.
Even the ceilings were exquisite. Rachael noted they were wood planked. Her curiosity and imagination dreamt of what was behind the closed doors leading away from the room, as Benny entered freshly showered and dressed.
“I apologize for making you wait Ms. Martin, but I don’t ever feel completely ready to greet the day without a shower to knock the sleep off of me,” Benny winked. Rachael thought it might be a twitch.
“Please don’t apologize and please call me Rachael.” Rachael’s second impression of Benny was quite different from her first. Her first impression registered nothing. When Benny entered the room this time she felt a presence enter with him and she noticed he carried with him an air radiating self-confidence.
She blushed a bit when he sat close to her on the adjacent love seat. Benny’s blue eyes studied and fixed their gaze upon her. She tried to focus her thoughts. Her mind slipped as her eyes traced his handsome face. Rachael recognized a powerful body as he crossed his legs and gripped his coffee cup. She imagined the mug shattering and pulled her gaze back to meet his eyes.
“This is quite some office,” Rachael said, as she tried to get her thoughts to catch up with her eyes and heartbeat.
“That’s another one of the running jokes in this town,” Benny said, with a boyish laugh. “I guess if I have to be honest, this is my home as much as I would like to believe that it isn’t. This is where I feel comfortable and in turn this is where I lay my head at night Rachael.”
“I would love to sleep here,” Rachael said, quickly adding, “if I owned a boat like this.”
“I imagine you’re in town for the serial killer story?”
“I am.” Rachael’s tone was businesslike. “I hear that you’re the town’s unofficial crime sleuth. Is this true and, if so, how did this come to be?”
“Well,” Benny said, as he thought about where to begin and what information to impart to Rachael. “Ms. Martin…”
“Please, call me Rachael,” she interrupted.
“Rachael, I’m sure with a little bit of investigative work you can find out the specifics about what I’m going to tell you, so I’ll give you the short version. I worked with the FBI for a number of years and before long I found myself as their ace investigator. I eventually climbed my way up to a senior position, mainly dealing with homicides. But, whenever they had a case in any area they couldn’t solve in the appropriately deemed amount of time, they would call me in to look it over. In nine out of ten cases, I solved the mystery.
“I resigned after a case, once again that you will find on public record, in which I became romantically involved with a woman I met during the investigation who wound up tied to the crime. She was the killer I was searching for.
“My superiors didn’t want to see me go but the lack of judgment on my part made the decision a no-brainer to clear up the Bureau’s name. Wanting to disappear, I came to Tilley to retire. I bored quickly and started a private investigation business that kept me busy enough to forget I was retired.
“Not being able to keep my nose out of city police business I was discovered once again as a pretty handy crime solver. I established a friendship with the senior homicide investigator on their staff and the rest is history.”
“How much in the loop are you with the new investigation?” Rachael asked, already knowing the answer.
“Completely,” Benny stated.
“Do you have anything that might tell you where he or she might strike next or what to look for next with clues left at the murder scenes?”
“I have a feeling that I am going to be seeing a lot of you Rachael,” Benny began. “I’m going to be honest with you for now and if you cross me I will no longer be truthful with you. Are we straight?” Benny asked this as he looked directly into Rachael’s eyes.
“We’re straight.”
“We don’t have much. But I could use your help in the investigation.”
“What do you mean?” Rachael asked, her eyes sparkling in anticipation.
“I want you to give your report tonight saying that the Tilley Police Department found some substantial evidence that is not yet being released to the public. Say it was leaked by a confidential source as being crucial evidence in the case.”
“You want me to lie?” Rachael said.
“Rachael,” Benny said. “First of all, you are not lying because we do have more than I have told you. For your conscience, I am the leak. Second, you must know our killer will be glued to the television every night to find out what we know. He wants the publicity. If you give him a hint that we know something, even if we don’t, he is going to be put on edge. That is what we want and need to catch this guy. Are you with me?”
“I’m with you,” Rachael said. “If I do this, can I count on you to get all of the first interviews and information for my network?”
“I’ll scratch your back if you scratch mine.”
“All right, I’ll do it,” Rachael said. “Who should I talk to next?”
“Try Jerry Lee with the local paper, the Tilley Bee. But don’t cuss or be crude, which I don’t think you would. He hates that.”
Benny watched her as she walked down the dock towards her car. His eyes stayed glued to her until she disappeared from his view. She’s even more beautiful than she is on television. She’s pretty when she’s not too made up His heart wanted him to turn on the charm but his head had reigned in his libido, keeping his disposition businesslike and to the point. The last thing I need at this point in my life and this case is a complicated romance that could never work. She’s New York and I’m not. Benny tried to purge her from his mind as he turned his thoughts to his second cup of coffee.
Chapter 25
As Rachael drove away from the Sleepy Cove Marina, she could not get Benny’s intense blue eyes and his cool demeanor out of her mind. She knew he was not showing his full hand and was certain he had reigned in his personality as to not give her a true snapshot of who he really was.
Although she suspected he was holding out, Rachael decided she trusted him anyway. Benny had his reasons for playing poker with his thoughts and information. He didn’t get to where he was and establish the impressive resume he had without learning how to play the game along the way.
She resolved to play his game
until he crossed her, which was the same sentiment Benny had relayed to her. Rachael began to rehearse in her mind the evening broadcast, which would include the information Benny desired. She hoped to get more as she drove towards the Tilley Bee headquarters for an impromptu meeting with Jerry Lee.
Jerry Lee’s office door was open. He was staring blankly at his computer monitor. Jerry Lee was a giant of a man with a potato nose that did not fit even his bulbous head. His dirty blonde hair was real but looked like three toupees intertwined in a hairy game of twister. His face was similar to a topographical map that told the tale of severe teenage acne. His eyes were a piercing blue, which diverted the focus from his scarred complexion. He looked more like a farmer than he did a reporter. His country twang matched his overalls.
Rachael stopped at his door and waited for him to notice her. There was a window behind him. She thought it curious that he had the blinds down when it was such a gorgeous day outside. The walls were mostly bare and his desk was spotless, which Rachael also found odd. Most reporters she knew lived in a world of clutter, with enough papers on their desks and walls to account for at least a couple of trees.
After a few seconds she knocked. “Excuse me, Mr. Lee?”
“Holy Larry Wilson and Jim,” Jerry said as he popped back in surprise. “Well I have been sent straight to Slim Lenny’s basement attic of rainbows and joy.” Jerry Lee stood up with surprise still showing on his face. “Ms. Martin, you have obviously startled me and I apologize for my absurd reaction.”
“I’m sorry I frightened you, Mr. Lee. And may I say that this is the first time I have ever heard of a basement attic.”
“I sometimes use the term basement attic where most would use a curse word, like H, E, double hockey sticks, because it doesn’t make any sense, just like foul language.” Jerry Lee paused, looked at his feet and continued, “I guess you’re here to steal my thunder. I knew I wouldn’t have an exclusive story for long. It’s kind of like when the FBI comes into town and takes over the local police department’s case, leaving them to play second fiddle. That’s why I have the window shades drawn on such a pretty day. I heard you were in town about an hour ago and it gave me a splitting headache.”
“Jerry Lee,” Rachael crooked her head to the side, “I don’t want you to feel that way. This is evolving into a big story the nation is becoming interested in. My network will do everything to respect you and the town of Tilley. I’ll tell you what.” Rachael thought of a way to pacify Jerry Lee. “Our website gets thousands upon thousands of hits per day. I’ll call our Webmaster today, and if it’s all right with you, I’ll have him provide a link on our site to all of your articles pertaining to the case.”
“You would really do that for me?” Jerry Lee asked, as his eyes began to sparkle. “I would have national exposure?”
“I’ll do that for you if you cooperate with me and form a partnership.”
“What do you mean a partnership?” Jerry Lee looked a bit confused.
“You share information with me and I will share my discoveries with you.”
“It’s a deal, Ms. Martin.” Jerry Lee smiled from ear to ear which was a long way on his gigantic head. “Where are my manners?” Jerry Lee motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, have a seat Ms. Martin.”
“Thank you Jerry Lee, and please call me Rachael.”
“What do you know so far, Rachael?”
“Basically, all I know is what I have read in your columns.” Rachael knew this flattery would give her additional information.
“You’ve read my column?” Jerry Lee’s eyebrows rose so high they almost hid under his hairline.
“Oh yes, Jerry Lee. You’re a very good writer.” Rachael felt a slight pang of guilt as she poured on the flattery in hopes of information.
“Ms. Martin,” Jerry pulled his eyebrows as low as they would go. “I mean Rachael, there is more to the story than has been told. The binoculars found around victim number one’s neck were Johnsonville Binoculars.
“His name was just released as Ryan Mableton. I just left the police station and found out a few things. He was in his late twenties. Ryan was single but engaged to be married. He lived with his fiancée and supposedly was a workaholic. I don’t have much else on him other than that.” Jerry Lee paused as he collected his thoughts.
“Victim number two,” Jerry Lee examined his fingernails even as his hands curled into fists. “Can we be off the record here? I don’t know if all of this information has been confirmed yet.”
Rachael nodded.
“His name is Danny Hill and so far I have found out he was a loner, in his late thirties, and he lived with his mother. His poor, poor mama. She must be just heartbroken.”
Jerry Lee described the murder scene, noting “the cause of death has not been released on that one yet. I hear that it will probably be ruled strangulation. I imagine our slow pace of doing business around here will soon get up to speed. We’re just not used to this type of thing around here.
“Forensic labs haven’t had many dealings with us and quite honestly Rachael, I think our cops are fumbling around trying to remember how to process this rush of evidence.”
“It’s not your fault,” Rachael scribbled on the back of her business card. “Here is my cell number.” She handed the card to Jerry Lee. “Let’s keep in touch all right?”
“You got it Rachael. Are you really going to see if you can put a link to my columns on your site?”
“I’ll make the call right now.” She shook his hand and made her exit.
Chapter 26
Benny had his second cup of coffee on the top deck of his houseboat. His eyes glazed over as he stared across the lake and he let his thinking cap work its magic. His thoughts searched for an abnormality he and the crime team may have missed.
His mind’s eye ran across the crucifixion scene. Benny popped out of his intoxicated dream as a vision of the room and a long shot of a clue stuck in his mind. Benny tried to discount the thought as ridiculous but something about it wouldn’t allow him to leave it alone.
He poured another cup of coffee and another and the thought continued scratching at his brain. From experience, even though the idea seemed an unlikely possibility, he knew he should act upon it.
Benny picked up the phone hesitantly and called Vernon. Vernon was the kind of guy who always answered on the first or second ring. When there was no answer, Benny surmised he was tied up with something important. He left a brief message stating he might have a new clue and needed to bounce his idea off of someone.
Vernon called back a few minutes later. “Sorry Benny, I was on the other line with Hank.”
“The Hank from Hank’s Bar and Grill?”
“Yeah, he went back over to the bar for the first time this morning. We might have something new over there, but tell me first what’s on your mind.”
“Over at the first scene,” Benny began, “you may or may not have seen this and I didn’t think it was a big deal until this morning but I remember seeing a dead bird under the victim’s foot, near the corner of the room. It was on the floor behind some of the vines that were draping down.
“The bird was fairly near the floor length mirror. At the time, I thought the bird probably flew in through an open window since they haven’t put the screens on yet and maybe the bird got confused and flew into the mirror, accidentally killing itself.”
“Hmm… very curious…” Vernon hesitated. “This makes what Hank had to say all the more interesting.” Vernon let out a nervous chuckle. “Hank said it smells as if there is a dead animal or something in the place and he wants us to check it out before he calls pest control in the off-hand chance the smell might be related to the murder.”
“Now I have an even better suspicion my bird theory means something. The only thing is, we went over that place with a fine toothed comb. We searched every nook and cranny. If there is a dead bird over there, I would think it would have to be in the ceiling.”
“Could be. I need to ask you a favor.” Vernon coughed.
“Sure.”
“I can’t get over there right now. Chief Asshole is about to lose his shit. He’s going around here this morning like a bloody tyrant. He’s got everybody in the whole office barking up the wrong tree. We’re going through this mound of senseless paperwork looking for clues. When we came in this morning each of us had a stack on our desks at least a foot high. We’re not going to find anything but I can’t tell him that.”
“What kind of documents does he have you looking at?”
“Records of past complaints called in to the station, the court room dockets, tickets, you name it. He needs to get laid. I know him. He acts like a complete moron when he hasn’t had any in a while. The other times he’s just a dipshit.
“Do you mind checking it out without me? I’m sorry I can’t get away from here. It’s probably going to take me two more hours to go through this crap.”
“Not a problem. Just relax. I’ll try to figure out a way to get him off your back. Who has the key? Do I need to contact Hank to get one?”
“Hank said there is one under a five gallon paint bucket in the back.”
“Cool.”
“Thanks Benny. Let me know if you find anything.”
Chapter 27
Rachael’s next stop was the Tilley Police Department. She was hoping to meet or at least set up a meeting with Chief Neighbors. She didn’t know what was in store for her. Rachael walked into the station and approached the officer working the desk. They made eye contact with each other and unlike every other soul she had previously met in town, he had no idea who she was.
The officer, a stoic man bordering on lifelessness spoke first. “How can I help you ma’am?”
“Hey,” Rachael drew her greeting into two syllables, rustling up her Mississippi charm once again. “My name is Rachael Martin and I would like, if it is at all possible, to speak with your Chief.”
The officer looked down and raised his eyes back up to Rachael’s in slow motion. He dug his finger into his ear, pulled it out, studied his finger and gazed back at her. He reminded her of the cartoon character Deputy Dog, slow and moping. “He’s a busy man Ms. …?” He paused, obviously doing a leisurely mental search. “What did you say that name was again?”
