by Thomas Scott
Emma, who was the assistant night manager at the Dollar General knew that Jodie was eager to leave so she could have as much time with Bobby as possible. “The store is empty, Jodie. We don’t have one single customer. Steve is still stocking the shelves. Why don’t you go ahead and take off?”
“Are you sure?” Jodie said. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”
“I’m not alone. I just told you Steve is here stocking the shelves.”
“What if you get a last-minute rush. It happens.”
“I know it happens. I also know I can handle it. This isn’t Walmart in the big city. It’s Dollar General a half hour before closing time in French Lick. Go.”
That was all the convincing Jodie needed. She took off her yellow smock and stuck it under the register. She was almost through the door when Emma said, “You better call me tomorrow morning and tell me all about it.”
Jodie gave her friend a wicked smile and said, “Don’t worry, I will as soon as I get home.” And then she was gone.
Forever.
When Don parked his van next to Jodie’s car, he was glad he’d gotten there early, because Jodie was already on her way out. He quickly opened the van’s sliding door from the inside, then hopped out and bent over like he might be looking for something inside the van. If it worked before…
Jodie walked out to her car, which was parked along the side of the building. When she turned the corner, she saw a familiar vehicle parked next to her own. She saw a man bent over from the waist and looking inside his van. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. I’d know those knees anywhere, she thought. As she got closer, she called out, “Hey Coach. Is that you?”
Don heard Jodie walking his way, and when she called out to him, he leaned back out of the van, smiled, and said, “Hi, Jodie. I was just about to run inside and grab a few things. You guys aren’t closed yet, are you?” He closed the sliding door of his van right up to the latch, but left it cracked, like he didn’t want her to see inside.
Jodie let her smile grow. “No, the store is still open, but I’m done for the night…sneaking out a little early. What do you have in there? It looks like you’re trying to hide something from me.”
Don waited until she was right next to the van. “I always suspected you were a sneaky one, though I have to admit, you’ve never snuck out on practice.”
“And I never will,” Jodie said. “So, what have you got in there?”
Don smiled at her. “Look, Jodie, I’ll show you, but you’ve got to keep it a secret from the other girls. Think you can do that?”
“Sure.”
Don gave her an amused look, one that was suggestive of Jodie’s inability to keep a secret.
“C’mon, Coach. I won’t tell a soul. I promise. What is it?”
Don smiled, stepped back from the van, and said, “Okay, see for yourself.” He made a sweeping motion with his arm, an indication that Jodie should pull the door open.
Jodie turned toward the van, pulled open the door, and looked inside. The back of the van was completely empty. When she turned back around, Don didn’t hesitate. He hit her with a massive uppercut to the jaw, and it sent her flying into the van. He jumped in after her, yanked the door shut, then hit her again, this time in the stomach to take the air out of her lungs. He quickly wrapped her hands and ankles with duct tape, then stuck a piece over her mouth. Then he climbed in the front, started the engine, and drove out of the lot.
Half an hour later at closing time, Emma told Steve the stock boy he could leave. Then she turned out the store’s lights, set the security system, locked the front door, and walked out to her car. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth when she thought about Jodie and Bobby. She knew they were going to have a great time, and she was glad to do her part and help make it happen for her friend.
As she turned her car around and drove past the far side of the building, her smile faded just a bit when she saw Jodie’s car was still parked in the lot. She pulled up close to her friend’s car, her smile now a full-blown frown, and wondered what the heck was going on. She put her car in park, got out, and looked inside the other vehicle. Nothing appeared to be out of order. The thought went through her head that maybe Jodie had simply left her car here, and Bobby had picked her up. But if that was the case, why hadn’t she said anything?
Emma took out her phone and tried to call Jodie. After four rings, it clicked over to voicemail. She ended the call and sent her a text message, asking if she was okay. When no reply came back, she wasn’t quite sure what to do next. Should she try Bobby? After a few seconds of self-debate, she did just that. But Bobby didn’t answer his phone or respond to Emma’s text message either. Emma thought that in all likelihood, Jodie and Bobby were going at it, their phones turned off, and nothing was wrong. But still, something didn’t feel quite right.
She got back in her car and headed for Bobby’s house, thinking she’d rather embarrass herself and make sure nothing was wrong, as opposed to finding out later that something had happened to her friend.
When Don finished with Jodie, he thought he might have felt a little bad about the whole thing, but as it happened, he felt nothing at all…except the afterglow that came from a good fight, and of course, the kill itself. He looked at Jodie’s body on the ground for a few minutes, thinking about how good she looked, and how glad he was that she’d never have to experience the horrors of life that would surely come her way if she married the kind of man his own mother had.
After a few minutes of reflective thought about his mom, he picked up Jodie’s body and carried her back to the edge of the clearing in the middle of the woods, where the old farmhouse used to be. He set her gently on the ground, then, with no small amount of effort, he opened the lid of the old cistern, picked Jodie back up, and let her slide from his arms and down into the bottom of the pit. There was a small splash as she joined the others, and somewhere in the back of Don’s mind, the sound registered with him as applause.
When the stench overcame the pleasure of the applause-like sound, he pushed the lid back in place and hurried away. Time to get back to the casino. He needed to be seen having that after-dinner drink.
When Emma arrived at Bobby’s house, she noticed most of the lights were on and she could see the flicker of the big screen TV through the front picture window. She walked up the steps, rang the bell, and waited. When there was no answer, she knocked on the door—hard—and still got no response. When she tried the knob, the door opened right up.
She stuck her head inside and called out to Jodie. She could hear the TV in the background, but nothing else. When she stepped all the way inside and looked to her left, she saw Bobby on the sofa. It looked like he was sleeping. She ran that way and tried to wake him, but she knew immediately that there was something wrong. Bobby smelled like a distillery, and his breathing was shallow and irregular. She shouted for Jodie again, and still, nothing. She grabbed Bobby by his shoulders and shook him, yelling his name the whole time, but she couldn’t get him to wake up.
She ran upstairs, took a quick peek in all the bedrooms and bathrooms. Jodie was nowhere to be found. When she went back downstairs she again tried to wake Bobby—this time with a slap to his face—but she still couldn’t get him to regain consciousness. Panic had set in now, its grasp of her mental thought processes at odds with the calm, direct, and professional-sounding voice on the other end of the phone. “911. What is the nature of your emergency…?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The party wound down. Cool flew the governor and Nichole back to the airport, where they’d go to wherever it was they were spending their secret time together. The kids were all in bed, as were Delroy and Huma. Nicky, Wu, and Robert had said their goodbyes, and Larry the Dog was passed out under one of the tables. Murton and Becky said goodnight and walked across the backyard, around the pond, and up to their house. Ross was helping Sandy clear some of the mess, carrying the plates and other dishes inside. That left Virgil an
d Sarah under the tent by themselves.
Virgil looked at his young female friend and said, “I’d like to share something with you.”
Sarah tipped her head and smiled at Virgil. “What’s that?”
“I couldn’t have been more wrong about you and Ross. He’s one of the finest young men I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing and working with. When I see the way you guys look at each other, it reminds me of Murt and Becky…and me and Sandy. I hope everything is going well between the two of you.”
Sarah looked at Virgil and said, “It’s going so well that sometimes I’m afraid to believe it’s real. Or I’m afraid that something might happen to him on the job. I’m not sure I’d be able to go through it all again.”
“You can’t live your life in fear, Sarah. It’s a miserable existence.”
Sarah looked away for a few seconds, then said, “Maybe I’m not saying it quite right. I’m not afraid, really. But I know his job can be a dangerous one, and after everything that happened with Gary, I sometimes have a little trouble falling asleep at night.”
“Maybe you should talk to Bell.”
“I half expected him to be here tonight,” Sarah said. “But Cool told me he couldn’t make it. I guess he had some sort of flight test he was prepping for.”
“That sounds about right,” Virgil said. “But listen, here’s the thing: Every cop has a dangerous job, I won’t lie to you, but Ross is smart, well-trained, very good at what he does, and he is extremely careful. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“I never thought I had anything to worry about with Gary, either.” Then before Virgil could respond, “Do you think I’ll ever stop missing him? Gary?”
“I hope not,” Virgil said. “I think as Liv grows up and becomes older, you’ll be able to see Gary anytime you want. All you’ll have to do is look into your daughter’s eyes.”
“I’m not betraying him, am I?”
“Of course not. If anything, you’re honoring him by getting on with your life. You’re taking care of yourself and the child the two of you had together. Do you think he’d want it any other way?”
“No…I’m sure of it. I’m also certain I wouldn’t have been able to endure what I did without you and Sandy. That video you showed me? The one where Jonas became part of your family that night? It…changed me. It also helped me to understand that if you look at something with an open mind—not to mention an open heart—you’ll see things you never thought possible.”
Virgil could feel the shift in the conversation, like Sarah was trying to tell him something without coming right out and saying the words. He was about to say so, when she stood, gave him a brief hug, and said, “I think I’ll go and help clean up. Give you a little time to yourself, so to speak.” Then she turned and headed for the house.
Virgil watched her go, then turned and looked at his father’s cross. Mason stood there, waiting. When Virgil turned back and looked at Sarah, she was on the back deck, smiling at him. She nodded once, then went inside the house.
Mason looked at his son, and said, “Sarah’s a fine young lady, isn’t she?”
“She sure is,” Virgil said. “Was she able to see you?”
Mason shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think she sensed my presence more than anything. I can tell you this, though: What she said is true. She wouldn’t have made it after Gary was murdered if you and Sandy hadn’t been by her side. It would have been a mistake to let her go after the case was over.”
Virgil squinted an eye at his father. “What exactly are we talking about here?”
“Same thing as before, Virg. Mistakes. Mine in particular.”
“You never did say what those mistakes were,” Virgil said.
“No, I didn’t. There’s only so much I can say, Son. I’ve told you that before.”
Virgil thought about that for a minute, then said, “Am I making some sort of mistake?”
“Not necessarily. Though you may come to view it that way.”
“View what?” Virgil said.
Mason let out a little chuckle. “Nice try.” Then, as serious as Virgil had ever seen his father, “You’ve got work to do. That feeling you had earlier in the evening? The one where you said last time you had a party like this, one of you didn’t make it back? You weren’t entirely wrong.”
Virgil visibly swallowed. “Are you telling me that one of us is in danger?”
“I’m telling you that there is pure evil in the world, Virg. It’s not always easy to see. You’ve got to look for it. My mistake was I didn’t look hard enough. My excuse? I was worried about you and Murton fighting in the war, and your mother dying of cancer. I should have looked harder, but I didn’t. I turned in my badge and let someone else take over.”
“I’m already looking through your old files,” Virgil said.
“It won’t do you any good tonight. He’s already taken another.”
Virgil walked right up to his father and got in his face. “Who is it? Tell me, and I’ll either put him away or put him in the ground.”
Mason put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You have to understand, it’s not that I don’t want to. I can’t, Virg. I don’t make the rules any more than you do.”
Virgil was getting angry. “I find that all a little hard to believe.”
Mason shook his head. “I think maybe a better way to say it is you find it hard to understand. There’s a difference.” Virgil was about to respond, but his father wasn’t done. “You’ve got all the answers, Son. All you need to do is put the individual pieces together.”
“I don’t feel like I have any of the pieces,” Virgil said. “I feel like I’m running blind.”
“Your own statement is a clue in itself.”
“What? That I’m running blind?”
Mason ignored his son’s question and asked one himself. “How many counties are there in this state?”
Virgil shook his head. What was this, some sort of political science quiz? “Ninety-two, Dad. You know that.”
“Indeed I do,” Mason said. “So, go sit under that tent and think about that for a few minutes. When you figure it out, wake your brother, and get to work. Tonight.”
Virgil did what his father asked of him, though he had to admit, he didn’t see how it would do much good. He went back under the tent, sat down, and started thinking about the individual counties. As a former trooper, Virgil knew the names of every county in the state and had long ago committed them to memory. He went through them in his head alphabetically, trying to understand his father’s cryptic message.
A mild breeze was rippling the tent’s upper flap where the decorative lights had been hung earlier in the day. The lights were similar to the old-fashioned multicolored Christmas tree bulbs that hardly anyone used since the advent of LEDs. He wasn’t really staring at the lights, but he was looking at them when the wind picked up and he heard a slight popping noise. Then one by one the lights started to go out until only a few remained illuminated.
Virgil got up and pulled the plug from the extension cord and the rest of the lights went dark. The last thing he needed was an electrical fire because of a short in the line. He sat back down and finished thinking about the counties, but eventually gave up, his own frustration overpowering his analytical thought process. Disgusted with himself and his inability to figure anything out, he stood and headed for the house.
He made it all the way to the back deck before his subconscious finally kicked into overdrive and thumped him on his frontal lobe. The thought stopped him dead in his tracks. Was the answer that simple? Had he been overthinking it the entire time? He ran back down to the tent, grabbed the extension cord, and plugged the lights back in. The blue, yellow, red, and green lights refused to illuminate. The only ones that lit up were orange. Virgil took out his phone and made a call.
“I was almost asleep,” Becky said, the tone in her voice full of irritability.
“Sorry, Becks,” Virgil said. “Need your skill
s, and I need them right now.”
“Why am I not surprised? About the right now part, I mean.”
“You can yell at me later. Get into the system and tell me what’s happening in Orange County…at this very moment.”
Becky let out a sigh, told Virgil to hang on, and went to her computer. Virgil could hear her typing away, and when she finally came back with a response, she’d lost the attitude of someone who’d been roused from bed by their boss, brother-in-law or not. “How did you know?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Virgil said. “Tell me.”
“They’re putting a search team together right now. Jodie Carter, female, seventeen years old, senior at the high school in French Lick. Left her job a little before nine this evening and hasn’t been heard from since.”
“Wake Murt and tell him to bring his squad car.”
“He’s already getting dressed. He says five minutes. You’re not flying down?”
Virgil had thought about that while waiting for the information from Becky. It was not quite an hour and a half drive from Virgil’s house down to Orange County. With lights and siren they could make it in an hour if the traffic cooperated. By the time Cool got to the airport, got the helicopter ready, then picked them up, they could be there, so it was a wash. “Nope, but we’ll be running hard down the interstate. Notify the troopers and the other counties that we’ll be coming through.”
“You got it, Jonesy. You guys be careful.”
Virgil told her they would, then ran inside to tell Sandy he was going.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Murton turned into Virgil’s driveway, he pulled right up to the front door, got out of his squad car, and took the passenger seat. He knew Virgil would want to drive, and in truth, Murton knew his brother was better at the wheel than he was. He’d seen it any number of times.
