Kentucky Murders: A Small Town Murder Mystery

by Larry Parrott

  “I’m sorry that he’s had a tough time, but all I’m asking is for him to do his job.”

  “Just give him a chance, Zack.” She stepped back. “Gotta get back to work. Will I see you later? I’m off at five.”

  “I’m tired. Tonight I think I’ll go to bed early. How about tomorrow?”

  “Will you be visiting Max?”

  “Yes. Want to go?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow around five-thirty.”

  She turned, walked off, and waved over her shoulder. “See you then.”

  Zack got into his car and drove toward his apartment. He thought about the secret he was now keeping from Kate, a betrayal that could ruin both their lives.

  Chapter 27

  “If he dies,” said Kenny, “we could go down for murder.”

  Tommy looked down from the top of his truck cab, where he sat cross-legged. They were parked along a dirt road in the same area where Tommy and Jesse had gone shooting less than a month earlier. “First, they’ve got to prove we did it,” said Tommy, trying to convince himself as much as the others. The other four men looked up at him. Three of them sat around the top edge of the truck bed, their feet inside the bed, and the other sat on the floor, his back against the tailgate. Tommy looked like a preacher perched high above his congregation.

  “I talked with a nurse friend of mine at the hospital,” said Mike. “She said he’s still in a coma, but is stable, and has been moved from intensive care to a private room.”

  “That means he’s not under the constant watch of a nurse anymore,” said Tommy, thinking out loud. He looked up at the sky, where the bright sun had almost reached its highest point and would soon be sliding down in a westerly arch. “We have to make sure he doesn’t wake up. He can’t be allowed to talk. Even attempted murder would mean hard time.”

  Bull, an over two-hundred pound hulk, spoke up from where he sat alone on one side of the truck: “You mean kill him?”

  Tommy smiled and finished the last of his beer. He tossed the can into the woods. “Any other suggestions?”

  “I told you to stop kicking him, Tommy,” said Jesse. “You went too damn far. We were just supposed to teach him a lesson, not put him into a coma.”

  Tommy shrugged and motioned for another beer. “What’s done is done.” He caught the beer Mike had tossed to him. “Just remember that we’re all in this together. Don’t go chicken shit on us now, Jesse.”

  “I don’t want to be involved in a murder.”

  “Tell you what,” said Tommy, looking down at the others. “Forget the whole thing. I’ll take care of everything personally. Now let me drop you assholes off. I’ve got something to check out.”

  As Tommy climbed down, Bull asked, “What about that Taylor son of a bitch? He already went to the sheriff yesterday.”

  “And the sheriff talked to all of us. We all had alibis. Right? You just make sure your brother sticks to his story that we played cards all night at his house. Okay?”

  Bull nodded.

  “We’ve got nothing to worry about then. Just relax, all of you. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Tommy dropped off the other men and drove over to the next town, where Max lay helpless in his hospital bed. At some time, maybe even Tommy himself didn’t notice exactly when, Tommy had gone past the point of no return. His actions had moved further than he had thought possible, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it now. His dad had taught him to act first and worry about consequences later. That had worked for Tommy until now. Then he thought about Kate. All this went back to his situation with her. Kate had led to Taylor and Taylor had led to Max. Now because of Max he was in this impossible situation. Things just seemed to be piling up on top of him. If he didn’t find a way to dig himself out of this mess, he’d be crushed under the load.

  Chapter 28

  The phone rang and the nurse picked up the receiver. She pressed the button with the flashing light. “Crestville General Hospital.” She paused while she listened. “You missed the morning visiting hours. Sorry. You’ll can come at six this evening and stay until eight.” Another pause. “Just a minute.” She picked up a clip board and searched a list. “He’s in room 504.” A pause. “You’re welcome.” She hung up the phone.

  ---

  He looked at his watch, which read 5:40. He then scanned for the security car that made its rounds of the back parking lot every thirty minutes or so. It had passed five minutes earlier and was nowhere in sight. He trotted from the woods, across the employee parking lot, and slipped into the rear entrance of the hospital. Inside, he followed the empty hallway to the stairwell that led to the fifth and uppermost floor, where Max lay in room 504.

  Quickly and silently climbing the stairs, he watched for patrolling security guards. Finally, he reached the top landing and peered down the empty hallway through the wire-reinforced window in the fire exit door. Suddenly, a nurse darted out of a room and walked off toward the nurses’ station down at the far end and around the corner. He waited.

  ---

  “We’re fifteen minutes early for visiting hours,” said Zack as they pulled into the parking lot.

  ---

  After the nurse had disappeared around the corner, he slowly opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. A television played from one of the rooms; its sound echoed through the otherwise silent wing.

  The first two rooms at the end read 511 on one side and 512 on the other. That would mean Max’s room was on the even side, about halfway down the hallway. If only they’d put him down at this end. That would have made his job so much easier, he thought.

  He slid along the wall working his way down, ready to dart into a room at the first sound of a nurse’s footsteps. He passed 510, 508, 506, and then he slipped into Max’s room. He glanced at his watch, 5:53. He would have to hurry. At six, this place would get crowded.

  Max lay before him, his chest and head bandaged, and his right arm covered with a plaster cast. He watched the rising and falling of Max’s chest as it kept pace with the respirator machine standing next to the bed. An intravenous bag hung above from a metal pole, its tube running down to Max’s good arm. A second machine recorded blips of light and the sound of his slow, steady heartbeat.

  He moved over quickly and looked down behind the respirator. He found a power cord plugged into the wall outlet and, with a tug, pulled it out.

  ---

  Looking down at his watch, Zack said, “Come on, Kate.” He grabbed her hand as she stood. “It’s six. Time to go up.”

  They left the first floor waiting room and headed toward the elevators.

  “I wonder if Max has shown improvement since last time,” she said. “Maybe he’s come out of the coma by now.”

  The elevator door opened, and Zack ushered her inside. “We’ll find out in a second.” He pushed the button marked “5,” and it lit up white, as the doors closed.

  Just then, another group of visitors rushed forward. “Please!” called an older woman.

  Zack reached out, caught the doors, and they bounced back open. A group of six people climbed on board. By the time they finished pressing the necessary floors, buttons 2, 3, 4, and 5 were all lit. Zack looked over at Kate, shrugged, and whispered, “Oh, well.”

  The elevator jerked upward.

  ---

  He had wondered if there would be any struggle, but instead he found that unplugging the machine didn’t stop Max’s breathing after all. His breaths became more irregular, but the machine hadn’t been keeping him alive, as suspected. Reaching back, he tugged on Max’s pillow, and after a few seconds, it came out. He removed the respirator mask from his face, lifted the pillow, and placed it over the unconscious man’s face.

  This time, the chest pumped harder than normal for several seconds, then fell still. The heartbeat on the screen sped up and then stopped, replaced by a straight line and a steady beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep sound. He held the pillow firmly in place for
another thirty seconds, just to make sure.

  After replacing the mask on Max’s face and the pillow back under the dead man’s head, he reached back and plugged in the respirator. Max’s lifeless chest moved slightly with each puff of the machine, but the straight line on the screen showed the absence of a heartbeat.

  Satisfied, he moved to the door and peeked out. The hall was still empty.

  ---

  The door closed at the fourth floor, leaving Kate and Zack alone inside the six-by-eight elevator. It jerked upward once more.

  When the door reopened, they stood facing the nurses’ station, where three women dressed in white stood, and another sat. Zack nodded to one of the nurses. “Where would we find room 504?” he asked.

  She pointed. “That way. Halfway down.”

  As they stepped out into the hallway, something caught Zack’s eye. There had been a flicker of movement far down the hall and maybe a clicking sound.

  They followed the corridor down to Max’s room. Kate stepped inside, but Zack paused and looked toward the end of the hallway.

  Then Kate screamed.

  Chapter 29

  “Maybe I should drive,” said Kate, as they approached the car.

  Zack kept quiet, unlocked her door, and slowly moved around to the driver’s side. Keeping his head down, he said, “I’ll be alright.” Actually, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling. He did feel bad about Max’s dying, but that wasn’t where his numb feeling was coming from. Max’s killers were walking free; that’s what hurt.

  He tried to hurry his movements, but he felt as if he were moving through quicksand instead of air. His arms and legs felt heavy. This must be shock. Should I let Kate drive?

  As he started the engine, his thoughts shifted back up to the fifth floor an hour earlier just before they had entered Max’s room. But then Kate’s scream had made him forget about the click at the end of the hallway. Had the door closed? No, probably not. I probably imagined it, he thought, and he filed the memory away.

  “Are you sure you can drive?” asked Kate, as they pulled out of the parking spot.

  They had come to the driveway leading onto the road, when the sheriff’s cruiser turned in. He stopped next to them, his window facing Zack’s, and he leaned out to say something. “Sorry to hear about Max,” he said. He actually sounded sorry, too.

  “Thanks,” said Zack. “Just find his killers.”

  The sheriff nodded and drove into the lot.

  Zack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He looked over at Kate, forced a smile, and hoped it would console her.

  Actually, he did feel a little better. As he pulled out onto the road, he thought that it had helped to get away from that hospital; it was so sterile, yet it was still a place where people could die.

  The vision of Max’s lifeless body and the sheet pulled up to cover his face, flashed through his mind. He shook his head, sighing.

  Kate, who must have sensed his thoughts, turned to him. “It happened, Zack,” she said, touching his arm. “There’s nothing we can do now to bring him back.”

  Maybe he couldn’t bring him back, but he could make someone pay for killing Max. Zack kept the thought to himself.

  ---

  Later, they entered Michaeltown. Dim streetlights lit Main Street. Zack flipped on his blinker to turn toward Kate’s house, not like there was any traffic to signal to.

  Kate reached over. “No. I want to stay with you tonight. Please.”

  “But your parents.”

  “I’ll call them and let them know I’m alright, so they won’t worry.” She motioned with one hand for him to drive on.

  Instead, Zack pulled over and parked in a spot along the curb. “I don’t think this is the right time,” he said. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do this. Okay?”

  “Yes. But don’t think I’m offering to go to bed with you just to keep your mind off Max’s death.” She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it gently. “I love you,” she said.

  “I know.” He backed out of the parking spot, pulled ahead, and turned onto her street. “Let me take you home. I need to be alone, to think.”

  ---

  Zack punched in at the factory on Monday morning with his eyes half-closed and his head pounding. He sighed and thought of how proud Kate would have been of him if she knew how he’d handled Max’s death. Wasn’t that a joke? As usual, he’d gotten drunk. At least this time he hadn’t screwed around on her. He swore to himself again that he would quit, but how many times had he done that before? Hundreds?

  Frank walked up to Zack as he climbed onto his forklift. “I heard about Max,” he said. “If you want to take the day off, someone could fill in for you.”

  “Thanks, but no. I’d rather be working. Just have a little headache.”

  Frank shrugged and walked off.

  Somehow, Zack made it through the day. He saw Tommy twice and no words were exchanged either time. Instead, Tommy seemed to know better than to mess with Zack and Zack was thankful for it. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if Tommy got him started.

  After work, Zack swung by the diner and picked up a cheeseburger to go. He spoke a few minutes with Kate, and she seemed to read, like Tommy, the do-not-disturb sign that must have been flashing across his forehead. In fact, everyone seemed to react similarly to him that day.

  At home, he reached into the refrigerator and tore open the end of a fresh twelve-pack. Removing a beer from the box, he said, “Only one,” and closed the door. He then took his burger and beer and walked over to his bed. He sat with his back against the headboard and stared at the blank television screen. If only it were football season. A good Monday night football game would take him away, at least for a few hours, from Michaeltown and his problems. But no such luck.

  He drank his beer and devoured his burger. “Now what?” he asked himself. He’d run away from Detroit with the same question on his mind. He could run again. He could pack and be gone. Head west, maybe, like he’d originally planned. Kate, Tommy, his job, they’d all be left behind. No responsibilities, no thoughts of revenge, no guilt. Max was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. Kate had said that. But could he believe it? Max was dead. Just like Zack’s mother.

  Chapter 30

  Max’s road had been paved. The woods looked the same, but the two tire tracks had been covered with blacktop and lined with cement curbs. Zack drove along, confused. He then came up on the clearing. Or was it? Max’s shack was gone. In its place stood his mother’s house. Zack pulled up and stopped along the curb in front of the house. This doesn’t make sense.

  Climbing out of the car, he looked around. Yes, this was Max’s clearing, but

  Then he was walking around the car, up the sidewalk, and climbing onto the porch. He saw a snow shovel leaning against the wall near the front door. But it must be 90 degrees out. He felt as if in a vacuum, no sound, no wind.

  The inner door stood open, and, with a creaking sound, which finally broke the silence, he pulled open the screen door and entered. The sun shone through the picture window, lighting the empty living room.

  He stared down the hallway leading to the kitchen. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to run out to his car and speed away as fast as he could. But his feet started down the hall as they had once before, a long time ago. He could see the refrigerator through the open kitchen door. Oh, how he wanted to stop, but his body kept going. His footsteps hammered against the tile and echoed in his ears. The hallway seemed so long. Then he stepped into the kitchen, where his mother sat before a table.

  She turned to him, asking, “Max, is that you?”

  “No, Mother, it’s Zack.”

  “Hello, son. I thought you were Max. He should be home soon.”

  Zack stepped up and started shaking her. “Max is dead! He’s dead like Dad, and like, like--” He staggered back. “Like you!”

  None of this made any sense. His mother didn’t know Max. In fac
t, his mother

  Suddenly, from nowhere, she produced a butcher knife. “No, no,” she cried, waving the knife through the air. “He’s not dead.” Then she swung the cleaver down toward her wrist.

  Knocking. Someone was knocking on his door, and he was back in Michaeltown, back in his room. He leapt out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he looked around, just to make sure. Yes, it was his room, thank God.

  Four more knocks came on the door. “Zack?”

  He shuffled to the door and opened it. Kate stood there, and her mouth dropped open.

  “What happened? You’re covered with sweat.”

  He turned and walked toward the bathroom. “Come in,” he said. “A bad dream, I guess.”

  In the bathroom, he splashed some water in his face, pulled a towel off the metal rack, and wiped. He looked at his haggard face in the mirror. He gargled with Listerine. The sour liquid washed away the dryness left from his restless sleep. After spitting it into the sink and rinsing it down, he came back into the room where Kate now sat on the bed. She stared up at him.

  “What time is it, anyway?” he asked.

  “It’s about a quarter after seven. I just got off work.” She stood. “Zack Taylor, are you all right? I’m worried about you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She leaned over to kiss him but Zack pulled away.

  “Kate, wait.”

  “Wait? What do you mean?”

  “I’ve… I’ve got something to tell you. Please sit.” He looked away from her at first. Then he turned toward her where she was seated back on the bed. “You know the other night after we found Max and took him to the hospital?”