by Rick Outzen
Julie Wittman sat on the couch. The gun was lying in the fifteen-year-old’s lap.
“Help me,” I whispered. “Untie these ropes.”
At first, she pretended not to hear me, but I kept repeating, “Help me.”
Julie stared ahead, looking over me out the windows, not at me. She mumbled something.
“What?” I asked. “Please help me.”
“Bo would be mad at me,” she said.
“Your Uncle Bo and father are in big trouble,” I said. “I can save them from themselves before it’s too late.”
She looked at me, waved the gun in my direction. “Bo would be mad at me.”
I tried to scoot across the floor and maybe loosen the ropes. They began to give a little. Hines and Wittman entered the cabin as I almost freed my left hand.
Laughing Hines said, “Well, what do we have here? Trying to escape, Holmes?”
“Uncle Bo, he asked me to untie his ropes,” said Julie.
“Good girl,” he said and kicked the back of my chair. A wave of pain racked my chest.
Jace straightened the chair and untied the ropes. Bo took the gun from Julie and pointed it at me. I rubbed my wrists, coaxing the circulation back into my hands. I reached up and felt the stitches on my head. Thankfully they were still intact. I wiped the blood off my cheek, nose, and lips with my sleeve. Then I looked at the scarlet streaks on my white shirt.
I smiled again. The hell with these beatings.
“Julie, bring Mr. Holmes a washcloth with some ice,” said Hines. “We’re not savages, Walker. All of this is a misunderstanding.”
Bo matched my smile, but his didn’t reach his eyes. They were reptilian. He wanted me to think that he would let me go soon. Maybe he even convinced Jace that was what he would do.
When she returned with ice wrapped in the washcloth, I applied it to my nose and upper lip. Jace sat quietly, drinking his bourbon with a blank stare. Again, I was caught between them. Other than the moon’s reflection, I could see no other lights outside.
Bo began to spin his tale. “Sue and I gave Pandora keys to our condo months ago. She wanted to take her nephews to Dollywood. She must have made copies before she returned them.”
“What about her meeting me at O’Riley’s?” I asked.
Jace said, “We don’t know anything about that. Bo said you hung around O’Riley’s on Friday nights. We sent Julie inside. When she spotted you, Bo texted you. I hit you when you came out.”
I bit my tongue, seeing the glaring hole in the story. How did Bo Hines obtain Childs’ cell phone? Wittman was too smart not to see it, but he was drunk. I needed to keep Jace engaged in conversation and keep him from passing out if I was to have any chance. He wouldn’t want his daughter to witness a murder. Hines didn’t seem to care.
“Why kidnap me?”
Wittman couldn’t remember. He looked at his brother-in-law.
“We haven’t kidnapped you,” Bo said smiling again. “We needed your undivided attention so you would understand our offer.”
“Why tie me up? Why the beatings?”
Jace said, “Tying you up was Bo’s idea. You provoked the beatings. Those are on you.”
My nose had stopped bleeding. I had to keep them talking.
“How about a drink of water?” I asked.
Bo said, “Julie, bring Mr. Holmes a glass of water.”
After she left the room, I said, “Jace, you don’t want her to see all this. Do you?”
Bo answered before his brother-in-law. “My niece knows how to keep her mouth shut. She needs to learn how the business world works, how deals are negotiated.”
After Julie handed me the glass, Hines squeezed her leg as she sat down beside him. He still had the gun pointed at me.
I asked, “Why tonight? Why not wait until you finalized your deal with the state attorney?”
Jace found his voice again. The alcohol had dulled his cognitive abilities, but he was shaking it off, like a bear waking from hibernation.
“When the porn bust hit, Bo said it was the perfect time to grab you because everyone else would be distracted,” he said. “If anything happened to you, people would think it was connected to your reporting on a child porn network.”
I said, “But nothing is going to happen to me, right? You and Bo just want to talk to me.”
“You always have to be prepared, Walker,” said Bo as he got up and stood over me.
“We aren’t going to start with the hitting again, are we?” I said. “As hard as it may be to believe, I’m not a fan of getting my ass kicked.”
Julie giggled.
“This is all your fault,” said Hines to me. His reptilian eyes had returned. The bourbon on his breath was overpowering. “You brought all this upon yourself.”
He made two drinks and traded Julie a bourbon and Diet Coke for the gun. He put his arm around the teenager and kept the handgun on his lap. She didn’t pull away, and Jace ignored them.
“Which one of you got Celeste Daniels pregnant?” I asked. It was a jump, but maybe it would buy me some time. The longer I dragged this out, the better my chances for survival.
Jace bolted up, spilled his drink, and rushed toward me. I grabbed his wrist before his punch connected with my chin. “I said no more hitting.”
He wrestled his arm away, picked up his red Solo Cup, and went to the bar. I started to stand.
Bo said, “Sit back down, Walker. We’re still negotiating.”
He squeezed Julie. “You wouldn’t want to deprive my niece of her education?”
I sat down, not taking my eyes off Hines.
“My guess, the baby was yours.”
Wittman started laughing. “You really are clueless,” he said. “Bo’s impotent, shoots nothing but blanks.”
Bo said, “Be quiet, Jace.”
Jace continued to laugh. “He can’t get anyone pregnant. Not Celeste, not Sue.”
“Be quiet,” Bo repeated.
I said, “So, you’re the father?”
Jace stopped laughing. I had hit a tender wound. Instead of striking me, tears filled his eyes.
“Yes,” Wittman said. “I loved her, really loved her. Everybody thought I dated her to hurt Stan, but she was special.”
He continued, “We kept it from her family, but I couldn’t keep secrets from my mother. She demanded Celeste get an abortion, even offered to pay for it. Celeste and I wanted to marry and move to Mobile or Birmingham.”
Bo tried again to stop his brother-in-law. “Is this the kind of tale you need to discuss in front of your daughter?”
I needed Wittman to continue talking. I asked, “Why didn’t you go ahead with your plans?”
With a tear running down his cheek, he said, “We were supposed to meet with her parents. We needed their permission to marry. I waited for her after school at the Burger King outside of Town and Country Plaza so we could rehearse our speeches, but she never showed.”
I said, “Why didn’t you tell this to the police?”
Wittman said, “I wanted to, but my mother told me to keep my mouth shut. It wouldn’t have changed anything. I didn’t know where Celeste was. The police would suspect I killed her and I would lose my college scholarship. I was a coward.”
“That’s enough ancient history,” said Hines. “Jace, you’re working yourself up. Let’s review our offer to Mr. Holmes. He stops writing. Your petition halts the park, and he saves his newspaper. Win-win-win.”
“How was she supposed to get to the mall?” I asked Wittman.
“Bo was supposed to give her a ride.”
Hines said, “I waited outside Catholic High for about an hour. She never showed up. I assumed she had found another ride.”
Jace said, “I went home, too afraid to call her house. I didn’t learn she had disappeared until the next day.”
Hines said, “We searched everywhere. Remember, Jace, how we talked to all her friends, visited her favorite spots. We got nowhere.”
“Yeah,
we did,” said Jace.
Another thought popped into my head. “Jace, why did you start the petition? Was it because you needed the contract rebid so your consulting company would make money?”
“Walker, what’s with all the questions?” asked Hines.
“Humor me. I’m a journalist.” I said, finishing my glass of water. I tried to scan the room without being too obvious. The cabin was too clean, too tidy. Nothing to grab for a weapon.
Hines said, “I was going to make a lot of money on that maritime park. I cut Jace into the deal at Sue’s suggestion to help him pay his late wife’s remaining medical bills. She also wanted them out of the house.”
Julie mumbled, “Aunt Sue never liked me.”
“You fucked everything up with your Arts Council story,” said Hines as his voice got louder with each word. He pointed the gun at my chest. “You wouldn’t leave it alone. You had to take me down.”
“You stole the money,” I said staring down the barrel of the gun.
“Shit, I was going to pay it back once I could draw on the city contract,” he said. “You had to hurt me. You were jealous of my success.”
I shook my head. “Bo, people lost their jobs, paychecks bounced, and performances were cut because you stole the grant money.”
He began to shake his head. “No, no.”
I said, “You supported the petition drive because you wanted the city to cancel the construction contract and rebid the work. You didn’t care about the maritime park, but you and Jace wanted the money.”
“You can’t prove it,” Hines said. “You can’t prove I stole from the Arts Council either. No one can.”
I said, “No one can because you killed Pandora Childs.”
At the corner of my eye, I noticed Wittman had raised his head. I had his attention.
“Again, no proof,” Bo said, dismissing me with a wave of his hand.
I said, “There will be records, evidence tying you to the money and her death.”
Laughing Hines said, “This ain’t my first rodeo. You aren’t that smart, Holmes.”
Looking at Jace and then back to him, I asked, “What are you talking about? First rodeo? Have you killed before?”
Hines smiled and took a big sip of his drink.
Jace asked, “What are you talking about Bo?”
Hines said, “Shut up, Jace.”
“He killed Celeste Daniels,” I said and decided to push it. “He was jealous of your relationship with her. He couldn’t stand Celeste loving someone else more than him.”
Hines jumped up and pressed the gun against my chest. My ribs throbbed. I gasped and held back a scream.
“Enough of your shit,” he said. “I could blow you away, dump your corpse into the Gulf. No one would ever miss you.”
Gritting my teeth, I said, “My dog would.”
Julie giggled again. I had forgotten she was in the room.
Hines shoved the gun into my rib cage one more time. The chair tilted back and my feet were off the floor. He liked to see me wince. Getting that pleasure satisfied his bloodlust for the moment. He went back to the couch, set down the gun between his niece and himself, and began to drink. He was relaxed, in control, and completely enjoying himself.
He said, “Again, you have no proof, not even a body.”
Jace stood. A storm had come up, and the boat began to rock more forcefully. Swaying, Wittman fought to keep his balance. He was also trying to clear his head.
“You killed Celeste?” he shouted at his brother-in-law.
“Of course not. Holmes wants to set us against each other. Mess with our heads. He wants to be let go.”
Wittman said, “But that’s what we agreed to do. Scare him, get him to back off, and put him back on shore.”
“Yes, Jace. Sit back down, rest. I’ll crank up the boat in a few minutes, and we’ll go to the marina. Promise.”
I said, “Jace, he’s going to kill me like he murdered Celeste Daniels and Pandora Childs. He may have even poisoned Sue.”
Hines charged me and hit me so hard that I fell off the chair. He began to kick me repeatedly. He picked the chair up, held it high and took aim for my head. Wittman crashed into him, knocking him against the glass door.
“Stop it, stop it,” shouted Wittman. He was bigger than Hines by four inches and twenty pounds.
Hines let go of the chair. He had his hands on his knees and was breathing heavily. So was Wittman. The two aging, one-time high school athletes were like a couple of old lions fighting over an antelope’s carcass.
Jace said, “Holmes, you found the suicide note. We all know Sue killed herself.”
My left eye was nearly swollen shut. I struggled to keep consciousness. My brain was shutting down. “What was the secret?” I rasped.
A soft voice spoke. Julie Wittman said, “I am.”
Jace charged Bo. A gun fired, and I blacked out.
33
When I woke, my pulse was radiating throughout my body. My head ached with each beat. I took short breaths to get relief from the piercing pain in my chest. The left side of my face was numb. I couldn’t hear out of that ear.
I slowly pulled myself up to a sitting position. The storm had passed, and the sea was calm again.
Bo sat across from me, propped up against the glass door with a web of cracks behind his head. Somehow it hadn’t shattered.
Bo’s eyes were open but had no life. Dark red blood emanated from a hole in his chest and covered his Pensacola Country Club white polo. Blood had puddled under him.
Jace and Julie Wittman held each other on the couch. The father stroked the hair of the sobbing girl. The gun was lying on the floor near their feet.
“How . . . how long have I been out?” I asked.
“Not sure, maybe an hour,” said Jace. His bravado had evaporated. He sounded sober.
“Julie shot Bo when I went at him,” he said. “She was defending me.”
Julie took her head off her father’s shoulder. “But I didn’t think,” she said. “I didn’t mean to. I just pulled the trigger, and he fell.”
“Hush, angel, you did what you had to do,” Wittman said.
But I sensed Julie wanted to talk. No, she needed to talk.
“Julie, what did you mean when you said you were the secret,” I asked.
Jace warned, “Holmes, this isn’t the time or place for your investigative reporting. Leave her—”
Julie shouted over her father. “I want you to understand.”
Jace shut his eyes. He didn’t want to hear this but wouldn’t stop her.
“At first Uncle Bo was fun to be around,” she continued. “He wanted to hear about my day, listened to my stories. Like he didn’t cut me off or tune me out. It seemed like he really cared, you know.”
I nodded to encourage her to continue talking. I didn’t want to interrupt her.
“I really looked forward to seeing him. I loved his hugging me, the smell of his cologne—he was so funny . . .”
Tears ran down Wittman’s cheeks.
“Daddy, you were away a lot and Aunt Sue went to sleep early. Uncle Bo would watch movies with me. I stretched out on the sofa, and he sat next to me. Then one night, he turned out the lights, and soon he was lying down behind me.”
She talked as if she were describing a scene in a movie. “He put his hand underneath my shirt and began to touch my breasts.”
Jace clenched his fists.
“I didn’t know what to do,” said Julie, who cried softly as she told how her uncle then began visiting her bedroom. She said Hines would talk to her about their “strong connection.”
“I was afraid,” she said. “But he made me feel important and I really liked him.”
“And your aunt found out?” I asked.
She nodded. “I think so.”
Julie burrowed into her father’s shoulder and started sobbing again.
After a third attempt to get up from the floor, I stood.
Jace asked, “What a
re we going to do? I can’t let my daughter suffer through the humiliation of a trial. I can’t.”
He was crying, too. “I’ve been so stupid,” he said shaking his head. “Right under my nose.”
“Grudges,” I whispered to myself.
“What?” asked Jace.
“Nothing. Where’s my cell phone?”
He pointed to his windbreaker on the counter near the bar. “It’s in my pocket,” he said. “What in the hell are you going to do?”
The phone had a signal, but the battery was low. I dialed Gravy.
“Walker, where are you?” he asked. “Childs is dead. Harden has looked for you everywhere.”
“I’m on a boat with Jace Wittman and his daughter.”
“What?”
“Gravy, be quiet and listen. I’ve killed Bo Hines.”
“Shit.”
“It was self-defense,” I said and looked at the Wittmans. Jace nodded his head. “Have police and EMS meet us at Palafox Pier.”
“Are you hurt?”
My phone died.
“Anyone else have a phone?” I asked, but their phones had lost their charge, too.
“Okay, we need to get back to Pensacola,” I said. “But first, Julie, you must scrub your hands with the strongest soap on this boat. We’ve got to get as much powder residue off as possible.”
Jace said, “Won’t they still detect it?”
“This isn’t CSI,” I said. “I’m giving them a better target.”
I picked up the gun. It was heavier than I thought. “Jace, go below with Julie. I’ll start the engines, but you may still hear a gunshot. It’s me putting another bullet in him.”
“But I deserve to go to jail,” Julie said.
“No one is going to jail. We were having a friendly discussion. Bo became enraged and started beating me. Jace, you tried to stop him, and Bo knocked you unconscious. He pulled the gun. I wrestled with him and the gun fired twice killing him.”
Holding his daughter tightly, Jace agreed. “Julie, we can make it work. We’ve got about a thirty-minute ride. We can get our stories together.”
After they had gone below, I started the engine and fired the gun. The glass door behind Hines shattered from the additional force. The motors drowned out the noise. I draped a blanket over Hines’ corpse and called for the Wittmans to come back.
