by C. M. Sutter
Keith slipped the gloves over his hands and opened the bag lying on the passenger seat. He pulled out the contents. In a few minutes, he would use one stamp and one envelope. He flipped the pages of the writing tablet to the back, just to play it safe. He had touched the front sheets with his bare fingers while making his list. Keith put a check mark next to the first name on the list then wrote the letter. He didn’t mince words, and his threats were real. Four paragraphs got his point across clearly.
He folded the sheet into thirds, slipped it into the envelope, and sealed it with a wet tissue dabbed from the water bottle at his side. He peeled a stamp off the strip of eight, made sure the address was correct, and walked the letter over to the mailbox at the restaurant’s entrance. Knowing cameras were plentiful at the truck stop, before he crossed the lot, Keith slipped on a cap that lay in his trunk. Keeping his car out of sight was necessary. If the cops put two and two together and realized where the letter was mailed, he didn’t want his car and license plate number associated with the man who had dropped the letter into the mailbox.
Once again in the car, he pulled out his phone and made the necessary call to the funeral home on Paradise Road in North Bend. After Keith explained where Kevin’s body was, the director assured him that all the arrangements would be taken care of to prevent any further anxiety from an already stressful situation.
Damn straight it’s stressful, and you’re going to be stressed too when my check bounces.
With that task completed, he opened Google Maps to see how far it was from Montgomery to Nashville—a four-hour drive. He’d stop there and, after a good night’s sleep, continue home tomorrow. I-65 would take him to Gary, Indiana, then he’d have another two hours on freeways until he reached the farm.
Chapter 4
After several stops at waysides to grab coffee from the outdoor vending machines, he arrived in Nashville at nine p.m. Now, finally checked into a cheap hotel north of Broadway, Keith found himself wide awake. He pulled out his knife and gave it a long, admiring look. Eleven years ago, he’d thought of killing his parents with it, but that would have interfered with putting the blame on Kevin. Killing his parents with a gift they gave him would have been ironic, to say the least. Keith smiled at the thought. He slid his right thumb across the blade. Sharper than he gave it credit for, the knife produced a line of blood that filled the half-inch cut on the pad of his thumb. He winced for a second then sucked on the wound. The rush he got from the murders sprang to mind. The images aroused him.
Maybe a shower and a little fun will do me good.
By ten o’clock, Keith was showered and refreshed. He checked himself in the mirror then headed out. The drive to Broadway would take less than ten minutes, and he’d find a public parking lot then walk the strip.
Every honky-tonk on lower Broadway was crowded with country music fans that Saturday night. Wide-open doors allowed the music to spill out onto the sidewalk and encouraged tourists and locals alike to come on in.
Keith found a seat in the third watering hole he came upon and allowed himself one eight-dollar glass of beer. The music was loud, and the women were hot. Wearing short skirts that barely covered their backsides, low-cut tops, and cowboy boots, they filled the dance floor. He watched, fixated, as they ground their hips against their dance partners to the sultry cowboy blues.
“Wanna dance?”
A voice came out of nowhere and whispered in Keith’s ear. He turned to see one of those women standing next to him and wearing a wide grin.
“You looked so intrigued, like you wanted to join in. I’m Lila, by the way. I come here every night, but I don’t think I’ve ever noticed you before. I’m sure I would have remembered a gentleman as fine as you.” She gave him an eyebrow raise.
Keith laughed. “So you’re a local?”
“Apparently.” She deliberately wiped away the beads of sweat that had lodged between her breasts.
Keith watched. “Yeah, okay, you have my interest. Let’s dance.” He guzzled the half glass of beer and followed her to the center of the room.
Lila wrapped her arms around Keith’s neck and began the bump-and-grind movements. She swayed to the music and licked his neck.
“Are you drunk?”
“Hardly. I like you, that’s all. You never told me your name.”
“That’s right, I didn’t. Want to get some fresh air?”
“Sure, after this set is over.” She continued to grind her pelvis against Keith’s pants throughout the song.
The bass guitarist spoke up. “Okay, folks, we’re going to take a short fifteen-minute break.”
“Perfect timing,” Keith said. He tipped his head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s take a walk by the river. My car is parked in that direction, anyway.”
“You mean you’re going to take a walk with me then toss me aside like yesterday’s trash?”
He smiled. “I didn’t say that. What do you have in mind?”
“You’ll see.”
The early November air was cool, especially near the river. They turned on First Street and continued north. Now that they were blocks from the loud hustle and bustle of lower Broadway, little activity was going on.
“Let’s walk along Riverfront Park. It’s dead there this time of night. Everyone would rather be in the bars.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Keith said. He thumbed the cool steel of the knife in his pants pocket. Until yesterday, he hadn’t thought about committing another murder after all those years. Now Lila, likely a prostitute, and Nashville, a town he’d be leaving first thing in the morning, made the act seem very inviting.
“Let’s sit down here on the grass. You can wrap your arms around me and keep me warm.”
“My pleasure.” Keith slipped on the gloves that he had placed in his jacket pocket earlier that day. He pulled her in close, face-to-face, as they became comfortable on the grass, well hidden from view.
“I’m all yours, cowboy. Do whatever you want to me.”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.” Keith pressed the release on his knife and jammed the blade into the back of her neck.
Lila lurched forward and tried to swat away the burning sensation. Keith pulled the knife back and plunged it again, twisting it to the handle that time, nearly severing her spinal cord. Blood seeped from Lila’s mouth as her head toppled forward, held on by a string. He pushed her off his shoulder and stared at her lifeless body lying on the grass. With one more thrust of the blade between her breasts for good measure, he stood, looked around, and saw nothing but the street lamps along the brick walkway. Nobody was wandering in the area. He wiped the blade across her skirt, folded the knife, and dropped it into his pocket. With a swipe to his pants to remove remnants of grass, he gave her one last glance. “That was fun, Trash.” He walked the three blocks to the parking garage and sucked in a deep gulp of cool air. He was satisfied with the night.
Back in his hotel room, Keith sat at the wobbly table and wrote the second letter while sipping a brandy and Coke. The blood-smeared shoulder of his shirt soaked in the bathroom sink, filled with cold water. He’d hang it over the shower rod before bed in hopes that it would be dry by morning. He walked into the bathroom to see if the stain had come out. The pink-tinted water reminded him that his knife was still in his pocket and coated with Lila’s blood. He pulled it out, pushed the shower curtain to the side, and took a seat on the edge of the tub. Holding the knife under the stream of water, he watched the clotted blood dissolve and disappear down the drain. The sight gave him a strong desire to kill again.
He turned off the faucet and wiped the knife with the hand towel. Then he placed the knife on the table in the open position so every part of it would dry.
Keith returned his focus to the letter and read it silently before folding it and placing it in the envelope. He liked how it sounded—threatening and full of suspense. Nobody would know who penned the ominous death threats, but the people who received them would surely find it ha
rd to sleep at night.
Keith drank three long chugs of brandy straight from the bottle, hung his shirt over the shower rod to dry, then fell into bed. His last memory before drifting off was of Lila lying dead on the ground. He smiled and closed his eyes.
Chapter 5
He woke to another pounding headache, but this time he was prepared. He tipped four aspirin into his hand and popped them into his mouth. He crunched the tablets into powder then washed them down with a mouthful of water from under the tap. A cup of coffee or two and he’d be on his way. Keith walked to the office while the coffee brewed and dropped the letter into the outgoing mail slot. He mumbled a good morning to the desk clerk then returned to his room to gather his belongings before leaving Nashville.
Two letters down and four to go. I’ll have to make mail stops along the way.
Keith dropped the keys off at the front desk and left. With a few zigs and zags, he merged onto I-65 and headed north. If everything went according to plan, and with a few stops for food and gas, he’d be in Washburn County by nine o’clock that night.
As he drove, he reflected on that fateful time after the murders. Once Kevin was in the county lockup awaiting his trial, Keith moved back into the family home on the outskirts of North Bend. College in Madison was just a charade, nothing more. At the time, it gave his parents a reason to be proud and gave him some much-needed freedom. Moving to the farm, surrounded by county land and a stream, gave Keith the privacy he needed to unearth his father’s coin cache, which he had no problem selling to dealers for cold hard cash.
Not many people in the community had known Keith as a younger man. His father, the most well-known vet in the county, was well-respected, but the kids weren’t often seen. Kevin attended a private school for mentally challenged youth, and Keith went to a private Catholic school. They both came directly home after classes. Once Keith left the area for college, he was rarely home. The sensational trial focused completely on Kevin, and Keith made sure to stay out of the limelight. Kevin’s court-appointed attorney took care of everything.
When a car horn blared, Keith’s mind popped back into the moment. He had drifted over the centerline while thinking about the past.
He’d planned four stops before arriving in Washburn County. He would mail letters from Louisville, Indianapolis, Chicago, and lastly, Milwaukee. Nobody would realize that the letters had been sent along a route from Alabama to Wisconsin. Each person would get a letter of their own from a particular state. They would have no idea that there were other letters and that the author of each one was the same person.
Chapter 6
“Aren’t you freezing to death out there?” Jade slid the patio door open only far enough to stick out half her face.
I watched through the glass as the men hovered over the grill, trying to look as if they were keeping a close watch on the burgers and brats. I knew better. The men wouldn’t admit that they were actually cold and huddled around the heat to stay warm. They were men and would go down with the proverbial ship before admitting defeat. I caught a glimpse or two of them pulling up their collars and rubbing their hands together over the holes in the grill lid. I elbowed Kate and laughed.
Jack yelled toward the sliders. “We need a few platters. I think the meat is done.”
Jade looked over her shoulder at Kate and me in the kitchen. “Jack wants two platters.”
I jerked my head toward the cabinet. “You know where they are.”
“But it’s cold outside.”
“And we’re busy making food. I don’t see you helping.”
“I’m the elder female here. I supervise.”
I heard Jack yell again through the glass. “You better get after that before the burgers and brats burn.”
“Fine.” Jade marched into the kitchen, gave me a push with her hip, and opened the lower cabinet door. She pulled out two platters then walked to the patio.
I nudged Kate again, and we watched from the breakfast bar. I was sure my sister, Jade, who hated winter, wouldn’t take one step outside. She opened the patio door just far enough to extend her arm out and yell for Clayton to come get the platters. I rolled my eyes then pulled the ketchup, mustard, and pickles out of the refrigerator.
Jade closed the slider, gave a full-body shiver, then crossed the living room to face us. “So what do you need help with?”
“You’re offering after we’re finished? Nice work, Sis.”
Kate piped in. “Set the table. I bet you can handle that.”
“Whatever. We’re using paper plates, right?”
“That would be correct. Make way. The guys are coming in.”
The living room and table area filled up quickly with hungry, cold men. Jack and Clayton carried the overflowing platters to the breakfast bar and set them down.
“Need help with anything else, ladies?”
I raised my brow at Jade. “I don’t know, Chad. Ask her. She’s in charge.”
Clayton smirked and took a seat on the couch. Jade swatted his shoulder. Meanwhile, Jack channel surfed. “I thought there was a Packer game on today.”
“There is. Turn it to the NFL Network. It should have already started.”
“Damn,” Billings said. “I wish Lynn would let me subscribe to the NFL Network. She said if she did, work around the house would never get done.”
I yelled across the breakfast bar. “And she’s probably right.”
He waved away my comment with his middle finger.
Jade placed a stack of paper plates, plastic utensils, beer cups, and napkins on the table. With the leaf in place, the table extended another fifteen inches. She went to the basement and brought up four folding chairs. Kate and I loaded the breakfast bar with various potato and macaroni salads, buns, fresh veggies, chips, and pork and beans.
“Okay, guys, come and get it. I’m not preparing anyone’s plate for them.”
Grumbles sounded as six men rose from the couch and recliners then entered the dining area. Jack paused the game long enough to give all of them time to fill their plates with food. They found places at the table facing the TV and dug in. Kate, Jade, and I sat scrunched together at the breakfast bar with what little room was left.
“Seriously?” Jade said. “Thank God we don’t invite men here often. They hog the table and hog the TV.” She grinned. “I knew there was a reason I enjoy being single.”
Kate clinked plastic beer cups with her. “That’s what they all say until they find the perfect guy.”
Jade smirked. “There’s no such thing as a perfect guy.”
Jack added his two cents. “I heard that, Agent Monroe. At least I’m perfect at the grill.”
She nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”
“I’ll say one thing, though.”
“I thought you already did.” Kate covered her mouth and laughed.
Jack rolled his eyes then pointed at Jade and me. “You two are rubbing off on her. She’s almost as ballsy as you are. What I was going to say”—he gave Kate a warning glance—“is that it’s about damn time we had a promotion party for you two.”
“Oops. Open mouth and insert my size-eight foot.”
“It was way past due, but everyone had weekend plans throughout the entire summer. Better late than never, right?” Jade asked.
Everyone agreed and lifted their beer cups.
By five thirty, during halftime, we cleaned up the kitchen, and the guys actually helped. Kate started a pot of coffee, and I wiped the table and breakfast bar. I saw Jack and Jade head to the laundry room. Jade closed the door behind her. I jerked my head at Clark. “Where the hell are they sneaking off to, or are they going to do a load of wash?”
He shrugged and plopped down on the recliner.
Beyond the laundry room, I heard the overhead garage door open then close after a minute or two. “Oh, they cut through the garage and sneaked outside for something.”
Kate rubbed her hands together while Horbeck and Jamison took their seats at the
table.
I gave Horbeck the eyeballs. “Something going on that you want to tell us about?”
“Not really.”
The garage door to the laundry room opened, and Jade cursed the cold weather as she walked through. “Good thing we love you two.” She entered the kitchen with a sheet cake in her hands, and Jack followed, carrying a second one. They placed both of them on the table. Everyone gathered around.
I pushed my way through the men. “Wow, Kate, take a look at these.”
She found an opening and stood at my side. “Really? You guys are the best.”
Sitting side by side were two cakes, each personalized with our name and the words Congratulations on detective status. Both cakes had the best rendering of a badge and gun that the cake designer could create. We laughed our delight, hugged everyone, and took pictures. I cut the cakes, Jade grabbed more paper plates, and we dug in.
Chapter 7
He continued past the exits for Indianapolis and glanced at the gas gauge. He’d drive for another hour then exit the interstate to fill up, use the facilities, and buy coffee. The typical Petro Plaza was a one-stop shopping area for cross-country truckers. They often sent letters, mailed bills, and purchased stationary, stamps, and postcards in the gift shop. Keith knew the chance of the truck stop having an outgoing mail drop was good. He exited the freeway at six forty-five and turned in to the parking lot. He drove to the right side of the building where it was darker, and parked. Truckers often slept in their cabs and preferred to have the bright lights away from their trucks.
Keith exited his car, pocketed the fourth letter, and walked inside. He’d fill up the tank before merging on the interstate. He browsed the aisles of the large gift shop. To his left, an arrow on the wall pointed to the showers and laundry area. He peered down the hallway then continued on. He made a mental note of the mail drop near the door he had entered. Keith grabbed two bags of chips, a soda, and a prepackaged sandwich from the cooler. He walked to the counter to pay.
