by Jason Deas
Discovery of the second body came within forty-eight hours of the first. Hank’s Bar and Grill was named as the crime scene, but it is unclear whether the victim was murdered on location, or if this was just the site for dumping the body and the staging of another bizarre scene. An unnamed source confirms that the body was once again positioned in a curious manner but the specifics of this have not been released.
Chief of Police Charles “Chuckie” Neighbors is expected to make a statement this afternoon as the national media begins to descend upon Tilley. The “No Vacancy” sign at the Lakeside Motor Inn tells of the increasing media interest in this story as the usually quiet Inn’s parking lot is steadily filling with news vans from across the country.
Chief Neighbors released a written statement advising all residents of Tilley to be extremely cautious and immediately report anything out of the ordinary. This and any other pertinent information may be reported directly to the Tilley Police Department.
Chapter 19
Rachael Martin opened the door to room twelve of the Lakeside Motor Inn and expected the worst. She was pleasantly surprised to find a bright, clean, and unordinary room for a small town inn. The room was decorated as a miniature lake cottage.
As an art lover she was first drawn to the unique wall decorations. Rachael suspected they were original landscape paintings. Upon inspecting the artworks her initial assumptions were confirmed.
An entertainment center with a large television, stereo, and DVD player centered the wall opposite the bed. Rachael thought the bed looked cozy enough to spend most of the day between its sheets. A small work station was situated next to the front window with an Ethernet connection and a charming stained glass light fixture that hung over the quaint, oblong table. The painted walls were faux finished. A subtle red crackle crept across antique white. Somebody either had a lot of time on his or her hands, or too much money, Rachael thought.
The nightstand had a small sign welcoming her to Tilley with a list of phone numbers that highlighted the resources a traveler might need. As a frequent inhabitant of motels and hotels, the message at the bottom of the list made her take a step back as she read it three times.
It read, “For your reassurance to our dedication in providing you the most relaxing stay, we wash the comforters in each of our rooms upon the departure of each guest. Enjoy your stay.” Rachael saw an exposé on television uncovering the filth these comforters sometimes contained, and this information was just too good to believe. After reading the sentence for the third time, her curiosity drove her to pick up the edge of the comforter and pull it towards her face. As she held it against her nose and took a detective sniff, her nose not only told her the message was true, but they also used Downey fabric softener.
Rachael took a step into the bathroom. It had a long counter with a sink large enough to wash a baby or small dog. The tub was garden style, with jets and another sign that read, “Feel free to relax, the utmost care was taken to sanitize and clean this area.” Rachael thought, who the hell are these people? Don’t they know that motels are supposed to be suspicious places where people tiptoe around in their flip-flops to avoid touching the ground?
Rachael looked in the mirror and saw her green eyes staring back at her. Her blonde hair crept down her back a little longer than she liked, but the network informed her viewers liked it that way. She loathed the time it took from her busy schedule to keep it blond. She wore two faces. She had an innocent, sweet, girly face that contradicted her on-air personality as the hard-hitting bulldog reporter, which had gained her national fame.
When Rachael was off the air, her appearance bordered on plain. A quick study of her revealed a great potential for beauty if she cared to try. The make-up artists and hairdressers from the television crew realized her potential nightly. Her body didn’t hurt her ratings, as it was firm and curved in all the right places. She looked like an aerobics instructor in a suit.
When she opened her mouth, the fitness façade quickly dissipated. She was a feisty broad who easily fooled her sources into giving her what she wanted with her Southern charm. Born in Sweet Palm, Mississippi and escaping at eighteen, she held fast upon her down south accent and mannerisms when needed. Now at the top, her assignment sent her south once again to investigate and report on the Tilley murders.
Rachael unpacked her bags, hanging the clothes she did not want to wrinkle and dividing the rest between the drawers of the armoire. It was her usual habit to live out of her suitcase, but the cleanliness of the room led her to feel safe in putting her clothes away.
Rachael lined up her sundries on the bathroom counter. Everything had to be orderly. She showered and washed the hairspray out of her hair and the makeup off of her face. After towel drying her hair, she put it up in a ponytail, using her favorite scrunchie. She put on a pair of shorts, a tee-shirt with no bra, and once again felt like herself.
She wished she could have traveled this way, adding back in the bra, which didn’t have too big of a job to do other than concealing her nipples. The network felt she was too visible in airports and discouraged the practice. Rachael was savvy with her career decisions. She complied during times her visibility was high, which increased the possibility of being recognized, even in her down-to-earth state.
Comfortable, Rachael unpacked her laptop and connected to the station’s network. Scrolling through her email messages, she also checked her voice mail. Her position demanded the ability to multitask and instances where she needed to only concentrate on a single item were rare. Nothing of immediate importance came across the computer or phone lines. So, Rachael propped herself up with the bounty of pillows in the bed, found an I Love Lucy marathon on the television, and fell asleep, just as her guest host started her nine o’clock show.
Chapter 20
Benny sat reading the paper on the top deck of his houseboat when the phone rang. He expected the call to be a reporter or Vernon. When he answered, there was a real surprise for him on the other end of the line.
“Hello?”
“Hi Benny,” the voice said with caution. It was Jane, his ex-wife. Over a year passed since the last time he heard her voice and he didn’t know or care where she was or what she was doing.
“Well, well,” Benny responded. “Did you run out of money already? I thought I gave you just about everything I owned.”
“Please don’t be a jackass Benny, I’m worried about you,” Jane said. “I’ve been watching the news and if I know you, you have your nose in that mess going on in Tilley. It’s all over the news here.”
“Where exactly is here?” Benny asked.
“Phoenix.”
“Back with Mom, eh?” Benny asked, not expecting a response.
“She needs me Benny. She had another stroke.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Tell her I send my best,” Benny said, continuing to read the newspaper.
“I’m sure she’ll find great comfort in your caring words,” Jane said.
Benny smiled at the flustered sound in her voice.
“I just called because I was worried about you and I wanted to offer you some advice.”
“Oh God, please give it to me,” Benny said mocking her. “I’ve barely been able to function for the past year without your words of wisdom.”
“You haven’t changed a bit have you, Benny James?”
“No, I haven’t,” Benny said, with blood in his teeth. “And neither has the fact that you fucked Chuckie Neighbors.”
“Goodbye Benny,” Jane said.
Benny hung up the phone without a word, picked up the lawn chair he sat in that had belonged to Jane and threw it in the lake. His breathing reached its normal level again as he envisioned it touching the bottom and resting in the muck.
The marriage to Jane was a short one and Benny’s only venture into this arena of life. He was serious with a few other women, but the marriage to his career would not allow him to commit polygamy. His so-called retirement and move to Tilley led him
to believe it would work at this point in his life.
Jane respected his private eye business and the odd hours he kept, but she had a nomadic heart. She and Chuckie Neighbors grew up in Tilley and were high school sweethearts. They married a month after their high school graduation. During the same week, Chuckie entered the force as a rookie cop. Being such a small town, the Tilley Police Department was desperate for bodies to fill its meek numbers and the requirements for entry were low.
Chuckie in the beginning years was a loyal, thoughtful, and dedicated husband. As he climbed each rank in the force, however, he became more and more distant as his growing powers led not his heart, but his loins to wander. Once he reached the rank of Chief, he didn’t exert any effort in covering his misdeeds. Power is a mighty corruptor. Although Chuckie ran a spic and span operation in every other sense, his sexual escapades were dirtier than a truck stop bathroom. Jane tried to ignore it for a while, but one can only be slapped in the face so many times before retaliating. One afternoon, she decided to surprise him at work and surprise him she did.
She walked unannounced into his office against the strong advice of his secretary to find panties just inside the door on the floor and a very young gal doing what looked like a split on his desk. She saw the top of Chuckie’s head and when he looked up, he told her to go home and not to bother him at work.
She did go home. She packed her stuff and visited a lawyer. Taking on the Chief of Police in a judicially slanted town was an uphill battle and she luckily took possession of the house, which had a mortgage balance she could handle, and nothing else.
She thanked God there were no children involved. She got the house, thanks to the services of Benny James and some lascivious photos the judge could not ignore. Benny advised her to use the photos as leverage. As advised, she threatened to show them around the town and county if he did not sign over the house to her.
He obliged. He was in the midst of a race for Sheriff of Gladdis County and Tilley, Georgia was, after all, still in the Bible Belt.
After the case ended, Jane called Benny and asked him to go out for a celebratory dinner. The dinner resulted in a romantic relationship that evolved into a marriage. The marriage lasted two years. Something in Jane’s heart, maybe the high school sweetheart history, or God knows what, could not sever the tie of her feelings for Chuckie. They eventually wound up in bed again. Chuckie and Jane would never know that Vernon was the one who tipped Benny off. This bit of information began the close tie between the two men.
One afternoon after Vernon witnessed Jane slithering behind the door of the Chief, Vernon placed a call to Benny. Benny walked in, once again ill-advised by Chuckie’s secretary to find the two practicing what looked like some form of Kama Sutra.
To Benny’s dismay, Jane did not apologize or feel shame. Jane looked him straight in the eye and said, “Have your stuff out of my house by the end of the day.” Benny did just that, moving his few belongings to the houseboat he used as an office.
The houseboat had been nameless for a couple of years but the next day, Benny named it the Jane Says. Jane thought that Chuckie would take her back, but even though they had a history, she was just another piece of ass. Upon discovery of this information, she fled town. The relationship between Chief Neighbors and Benny James, to say the least, was a tense one.
Chapter 21
Benny’s phone rang. It was Chuckie Neighbors. “Benny James here.”
“Benny, this is Chief Neighbors. How’s it going, bud?”
“Can the fucking pleasantries, Chuck. You know I’m not your bud and never will be, so don’t insult me.”
“I like a straight shooter Benny,” Chief Neighbors responded. “Vernon mentioned that you were hoping to help with this serial killer stuff and he talked me into letting you provide us some assistance.”
“First of all, Chuck,” Benny said with blood seeping down his gums once again. “Let me begin by saying fuck you. I am not hoping to help. I am not asking for your permission to help. I’m going to help because you need my help. Without me, you’re going to look like a small town, hick Chief of Police on the national news. Like I told Jerry Lee, I’m going to be the one who solves this case. Are we straight?”
“Yeah,” the Chief said.
Benny slammed his end down.
Wanting to throw the phone in the lake to follow Jane’s chair, Benny resisted. He took a few deep breaths and told himself he shouldn’t expect anything less from Chief Asshole. He and Vernon had plans for the day to investigate the two murder victims. Because of the two phone calls, he was late. The two men knew they might not uncover anything through the investigations, but it was worth a shot to get some sort of lead; and sometimes geese lay golden eggs.
Benny dialed the phone he had not thrown in the lake to let Vernon know he was running late. Vernon, flexible as usual, told Benny to get there when he could. Benny put on what he called his visiting apparel that he wore any time he wanted to question someone and look professional. He hated this type of clothing, but he knew people responded better to finely dressed interrogators.
The first victim was a young construction worker named Ryan Mableton. Vernon went over to his fiancée’s apartment to question her. The two lived together for three years before Ryan’s death.
The second victim, named Danny Hill, was Benny's assignment. He was an unwed, struggling musician who lived with his mother. She resided in an antiquated home that looked brand new. Large white columns and a grand front porch accompanied with swings on each end greeted Benny as he parked on the street directly in front of the house. He walked up the sidewalk through the neatly groomed lawn and before he could get to the door, Ms. Hill walked out and greeted him with a glass of iced tea.
“I’ve been expecting you all day,” she began. “You must be from the Tilley Police Department. I made you some iced tea. Let’s have a seat on the swing and maybe I can be of some help to you.”
“Thank you ma’am,” Benny said, with a nod and an expression telling of his sorrow and concern. “My name is Benny James and I’m a private investigator helping the Tilley Police Department with this investigation. I appreciate your openness into what I know is a sensitive matter.” As they sat on the swing, Benny sipped his iced tea and said, “Well, if this isn’t some of the best iced tea I’ve ever tasted I don’t know what is.”
“Danny didn’t like it,” Ms. Hill said.
“He didn’t know what he was missing. Tell me about Danny if you would.”
“Well, he was a quiet boy who was unsure of everything except his music. He wasn’t good with women or people in general and I truly think they made him nervous. I think I was the only person he was comfortable with and that’s why he never left.
“He grew up here and after his father died, I knew he would never leave. He helped me in the yard and besides playing his guitar, I believe he only felt pleasure when he made me happy. He kept all the bushes trimmed perfectly, and if he saw one weed in the yard he pulled it immediately. It wasn’t because he cared about weeds or the appearance of the yard. He was caring about me because he knew how proud I was of this house and yard when his father was alive. He tried so hard to keep me happy after his father passed away.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, when was that?” Benny questioned.
“It’s been about four years, I guess. Cigarette smoking took his life. He knew it was bad but just couldn’t break the habit. I quit after he died, but I’ve been thinking about buying a pack since the news of Danny.”
“Both my parents died from bad habits,” Benny confided. “You do what you need to do to get by Ms. Hill. If I can give you some advice, go pull some weeds when you feel the need or prune those bushes but if that’s what it takes, I wouldn’t blame you.”
“You seem like a real nice man Mr. James and I’m sorry to hear about your parents,” Ms. Hill said, with true concern and sadness in her voice.
“It’s been a long time and time heals all.” Benny paused,
took a sip of his iced tea, and said, “Can I ask you a few more questions about Danny?”
“Of course,” Ms. Hill said sweetly.
“Did he have any enemies?”
“No, but he didn’t have any friends either. As I said, he was a strange boy afraid of anybody who wasn’t musical. He slept till about eleven-thirty or so every day, got up and drank a pot of coffee and read USA Today. He said he liked how the paper was so colorful. He showered and then he spent the rest of the day playing his guitar or working in the yard. He had a computer in his room he spent a great deal of time on and he did tell me one time he had some friends in what he called chat rooms.
“I’ve never heard of such, but personally I don’t think friends you have through computer talking are really friends at all since you never see them or anything.”
“If the Department would like to see the computer, would you have a problem with that?” Benny asked.
“Take it today if you want,” Ms. Hill said. “I sure don’t have a use for it.”
“I’ll have to send someone over for it Ms. Hill. I can’t just take it without filling out a mound of paperwork. Can you think of anything else that might help us with the investigation?”
Ms. Hill thought for a moment and said, “I sure can’t Mr. James. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”
“You can call me Benny and you have been just wonderful. Thank you so much for the tea,” Benny said getting up. “Once again, Ms. Hill, I am truly sorry for your loss. Here is my card,” Benny said producing a business card from his jacket pocket and handing it to Ms. Hill along with his empty glass. “If you think of anything else or need help pulling weeds or pruning those bushes, please don’t hesitate and give me a call.”
