“He told me Jimmy met someone down by the river, someone who killed him. Later, people came looking for his body.”
She stared at Jennifer, truly frightened.
“Do you know where Al was that night? I think I know where Danny was.”
“Go home, Jennifer, and count your blessings. Be thankful I warned you.”
“Warned me—”
The door slammed shut in her face, and no amount of ringing the bell could get Candy to open it again.
Chapter 36
Sam’s voice sounded distant over the phone line. “I got hold of that naturalist friend of mine.”
“Yeah? So what did he say?” Jennifer asked, feeding Muffy the crumbs left over from her jelly toast breakfast. She hiked up the pants of her flannel pajamas. She hadn’t been eating well since Danny died—the meal at the Casablanca excepted—and she could tell it in her waistline.
“He said if a body was buried in a shallow grave down on the riverbank twelve years ago, there’s no way it would still be there.”
“I don’t see why not. Bodies lie buried for—”
“He told me about the flood.”
The flood. She’d completely forgotten. Six years ago the Ocmulgee had jumped its banks and stopped Macon cold, leaving them without fresh water for weeks. Showers had become a fond memory, and business had virtually ceased. The President declared Macon a disaster area, and bottled water was trucked in from all over the country. It hadn’t once occurred to her when she’d gone looking for Jimmy’s body.
“That flood in the Carolinas was so bad,” Sam said, “that it floated coffins out of the cemetery.”
“That happened here, too. I think some of the bodies even slipped their coffins. Can you imagine? It must have looked like something out of Poltergeist. Dead bodies and coffins bobbing along the river like gruesome buoys.” She held her breath. “What did they do with those bodies?”
“They reburied them.”
“Do you think they might have had one left over?” she suggested.
She could hear his sigh over the line.
“It’s not as far-fetched as it might sound at first,” she rushed on. “I don’t know how many floated out, but isn’t it possible they had an extra, one more than they had coffins?”
“Jennifer, we have no reason to believe—”
“All right, then, indulge me just this once.” She could imagine him cringing over the phone. She’d already had her share of “just this once” many times over. “Go back to the river with me. In the daylight. If we can’t find any evidence that someone was buried there, I’ll drop the whole matter. I’ll never mention Jimmy Mitchell’s name again.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Not really. But I do expect you to go with me.”
“You know we aren’t going to find anything.”
“You don’t know that.” She felt like a petulant child.
“I think I can slip away for a short while this morning,” he offered. “Not too much going on and I have been working overtime.”
She smiled with relief.
“Where should we meet?” he asked.
“I don’t know any other way to get there except through the woods from the high school.”
“Fine. Let’s make it eleven o’clock.”
In the daylight there could be no doubt. Gavin, repressed memory or not, had described the location perfectly. There wasn’t another area quite like it anywhere on that particular section of the riverbank.
“So he knew this stretch of the river,” Sam told her. “That overhang most likely was taken away by high waters. I don’t see anything to indicate a body was ever buried here.” The bright sunlight dappled his face through the leaves. It was truly a beautiful day. Too bad her mood didn’t match it.
“Doesn’t mean there wasn’t one,” she added. He looked at her but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. They both knew how stubborn she was. Once she’d bought into Gavin’s story, it would take a lot for her to give it up.
Sam picked up a stick and flung it out over the water. It arced and then plopped on the surface, bobbing briefly and then rising to float with the gentle current.
“Are you satisfied yet?” he asked.
She sat down in the dirt with her knees bent, next to what was left of the overhang, symbolically answering his question. She sank back against the slope. Sometimes life could be unfair.
She picked up a pebble and tossed it toward the water. It landed at the river’s edge. She could see it sitting there, refusing to go with the flow.
“I need to be getting back,” he told her, “but I might could manage to make time for lunch if you think—”
She didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. She leaned over and grabbed a handful of grass at the edge of the overhang. Vegetation had flourished so well in the last six years that grass, weeds, and everything green covered any scars left by the floodwaters. She was frustrated beyond belief. She ripped out the grass and tossed it into the air, watching it float down over her, making a mess.
“Does that make you feel better?” he asked.
“Yes, I think it does,” she declared, her jaw firmly jutted out.
“Then go for it,” he suggested.
She grabbed another handful, ripped it from the ground, and threw it upward, too. Then a third. When she reached for a fourth, she stopped.
Sunlight glinted off what looked like a funny shaped pebble, long and thin, tangled in the exposed roots. She reached for it, bringing it close to her eyes.
“Oh, God.” The words burst from her. Her fingers spread wide and the object fell from her hand onto her thigh. “Get it off me,” she shouted, scrambling to her feet as though covered by a swarm of fire ants. She fled to Sam, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his chest. It couldn’t be what she thought it was. It couldn’t.
“What the heck? Did something bite you?” Sam said, wrapping her closer to him, patting her hair.
“Look at it,” she ordered. “Look at that...that thing!”
He tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let him move. “I will if you’ll let go of me.”
Reluctantly, she loosened her grip. When she managed to force herself to turn in his direction, Sam was intent on an object he was rolling back and forth in his palm.
He looked up at her. She’d seen that look before and she didn’t like it.
“I think you’re right. I think someone was buried here.”
She closed her eyes, Sam’s words filtering like a swirl into her mind.
“Looks like you found one of his finger bones.”
Chapter 37
The police were all over the place, their guns and night sticks creaking in leather as they moved. She wished Sam hadn’t called them, but he was right. They didn’t have a choice.
One tall fellow cornered her and led off with a barrage of questions. She tap danced around them as best she could, hoping beyond hope he’d never get to why they were at the river. If he did, how, exactly, could she avoid mentioning Gavin Lawless?
“I think I need to talk to a lawyer,” Jennifer stated firmly.
“Miss, I don’t see how that could possibly be necessary,” the frustrated patrolman told her. “As I see it, you were simply down by the river enjoying the water with your boyfriend when you found an object that looked suspiciously like a bone.”
“That sounds good. Put that down,” Jennifer agreed, tapping the paper attached to a clipboard on which he was taking notes.
“We haven’t even determined if the bone is human or animal. Probably something some dog drug down here and dropped.”
Hadn’t he ever seen a human skeleton? He was supposed to know what a finger bone looked like. She knew, and she’d only seen one in books.
“Once I write down the exact location—”
“Here,” she insisted, pointing at the tangled tree roots jutting from what was left of the overhang. “That’s where I found it. Can I
go now?”
The policeman nodded. “Sign this report, and you’re on your way.”
She scanned his scribbles. They looked fine to her and incredibly innocuous. If she’d been writing it, the word “murder” would have been capitalized and underlined at least three times right next to the findings, which would have read “partial corpse.”
“Thank you, officer.” She smiled and handed back his pen and paper. Now if Sam had managed to keep his tongue...
“Those bodies,” she said, once they were well into the woods and out of hearing distance from the police, “the ones that floated away during the flood. We need to find out what happened to any that weren’t identified. Do you think one of them might be missing a finger bone? Maybe one with a broken neck.”
“I’ll go down to the coroner’s office and ask, but on one condition,” Sam told her. “I don’t want you poking around trying to solve what you think is a murder case. We pay people to do that. They’re called policemen.”
“Right. Could you do it casually? It’s only one simple question. I don’t want to start something that’s going to require a lot of explanation any more than you do. I don’t agree with what Gavin’s trying to do, but I don’t feel I have the right to step in the middle of it. I’m afraid if he isn’t more careful, he’s going to get himself killed.”
They ran into Seth Yarborough about five minutes farther up the path.
“Jennifer?” he said, his eyes darting back and forth from Sam to her. “What are you doing here? Surely you’re not the one who called in this report.”
She nodded. “Technically, that would be Sam here.”
“Are you talking with the press?” He cocked his head at Sam. “I thought I saw the two of you together at the reunion but...”
“Oh, you mean...” Seth wouldn’t know about their relationship. “Sam was with me when we found...”
“You found what exactly?”
Jennifer and Sam exchanged looks.
“Well, I don’t know. I thought it was a bone, maybe from some animal.” She listened to herself talking as though viewing someone else. Why was she so stiff, so distant? The man had been kind enough to take her to lunch earlier that week. But he was one of them, one of the police, one of the people to be careful around.
She could feel Sam studying her face.
“The officers at the river have our statements,” she assured Seth. “There wasn’t anything to tell, but Sam thought we’d better report it anyway.”
“That area’s posted.”
She frowned. “Are you going to give us a ticket?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s just not a good place to go. Kids go down there from school and get themselves in trouble.”
“Right.”
“If you’ve got any concerns, you come to me,” Seth told her. “You don’t have to call the police.”
“I’ll remember that,” she promised.
He touched her hand and then shook Sam’s. “It’s nice seeing you both again.”
He brushed past them, and she watched as he headed down toward the river.
Chapter 38
“Okay,” Jennifer muttered to herself. Sam had dropped her off at home and then gone on to work. She was alone in her apartment, alone, except for Muffy and her thoughts.
“Let’s say Jimmy was buried on that riverbank, and every word Gavin told me was true,” she told Muffy. “And that Al got Danny and went down to the river looking for Jimmy’s body that night. Why? Why would they do a thing like that?”
She paced the length of her living room. “What were you planning to do, Danny? Get rid of the body? You were on a date with me, for goodness sakes! The prom. What were you thinking?”
She wished she could shake him, make him tell her what had happened. “Something’s come back up,” she said aloud to herself. “Something I thought was long over and done.” He’d wanted to talk to her about it. Why?
Jennifer sank onto the sofa, folding her arms. He knew. Of course, he knew. He knew who killed Jimmy. He had to if he were one of the ones who had gone to find the body. Only there wasn’t a body, and he’d been left with the knowledge that someone had confessed to a murder that, in his mind, may or may not have happened. He couldn’t go to the police. There wasn’t any evidence of a crime. He never got the opportunity to make the choice: help cover up the crime or turn the murderer in to the police.
So why did he want to talk to her? Because she knew he wasn’t the murderer. Because she could testify that Al had come to the car and taken him away—after the murder had already taken place. But why his need for a private eye? That meant the murderer was still around and still dangerous. Danny was looking for more proof.
She sat back up and grabbed Muffy, who’d been pacing in front of her. “Don’t you see,” she told the dog, rubbing hard behind her ears. “Danny made that appointment with a lawyer, not to start divorce proceedings against Sheena, but to get some advice. He was preparing to go to the authorities because Gavin’s song made it clear what he suspected: Jimmy was dead.”
She looked deep into Muffy’s eyes and asked, “Why? Why Jimmy was killed?”
Damn. Without that, none of it made sense.
The dog whimpered and Jennifer let her go.
She looked around the floor. Where, exactly, had those yearbooks Sheena left gotten to? They’d been next to the couch. She crouched down, Muffy jumping on the back of her legs, and ran a hand along the carpet. Near the skirt of the sofa she felt something hard. That’s right. She’d shoved them under when Muffy decided they made a perfect perch.
She pulled them out and took the top one off the stack, opening it to the inside cover. Sheena had filled all of the first page, printing her name in huge letters. Then she’d taken a pack of pens and alternated sentences, following all the colors of the rainbow in order.
Jennifer scanned the almost illegible, angular scrawl. Suggestive fluff. About what she would expect. No reference to Jimmy or prom or much of anything else.
Most of the other entries in the front were typical. Keep in touch. Call me over the summer. Have a great time in college. Etc., etc.
Jennifer hadn’t signed it. What would she have to say even if they’d been talking?
She flipped on through to the advertising section in the back. On a page where an office supply store and a dry cleaners wished the graduating class every future success, there were entries from Mick, then Al, and finally Candy.
Hey, hey, hey, Bro. We actually made it all the way to graduation. Too cool for words, man. Two and a half more months and I’m outta here for good. I ain’t never coming back. Keep the faith. Mick.
A skull with a dagger dripping blood was drawn in pen next to his name. He was good, Jennifer had to admit, if a little dramatic with his subject matter. And a bit premature with his plans to escape Macon.
Danny, boy, we made it! Four years and all is cool, man. We rule!!! Keep your head, keep your tongue, keep your freedom. What’s gone is gone and none of our business. The future shall be ours, my friend. Al.
A sweat broke out across her neck and forehead as her gaze found the final entry on the page.
In big round letters with little o’s dotting the i’s, Candy had written: Danny. Next year’s got to be better than this one. I wish you love. Candy.
She’d seen that handwriting before. Candy told her she had warned her, but she didn’t say when. The note had been slipped into her locker after Jennifer’s breakup with Danny. The weight gain, the mood swings, the depression. The warning. It all made sense.
Oh, God. There it was, the final piece that made it all fit. She knew who Jimmy had met that night, who had killed him, and she even knew why.
She dove for the phone, punching in numbers as fast as she could.
Sheena picked up on the second ring. “Yes.”
“Go over to Candy’s house. Take her and the kids some place safe.”
“Jennifer? What the hell are you—”
“Just do it, S
heena. Now!”
She cut the connection and dialed again. She had more phone calls to make.
Chapter 39
“Seth, please, I need your help.” Jennifer’s throat was so constricted she could barely make the words clear over the phone line. “The real reason I was down at the river was because Gavin Lawless told me he buried Jimmy Mitchell’s body there the night of our prom. I’m sure that bone we found is Jimmy’s. The flood must have washed the rest of what was left of the body away.”
“Calm down and tell me exactly what’s going on. Are you saying Gavin Lawless confessed to Mitchell’s murder?”
“No. I know all about the repressed memories he’s been able to pull back up—surely you read the article in the Atlanta Eye—but there’s more. He told me three people came back looking for the body to dispose of it that night.” If she were wrong, she’d soon know.
“You’ve been talking to Lawless? Do you know where he is?”
“Not right now, but I can find out.”
“Good. Where’s your friend Leigh Ann?”
“Staying with a girlfriend.”
“At least she’s safe. I think you’ve jumped to some conclusions, Jennifer. I want you to take three deep breaths, settle down, and listen to me closely. I don’t want to alarm you, but I did some checking on this Gavin Lawless. All that hoopla he fed to the Eye was a publicity stunt to promote his new song. He was never a patient of any regression therapist in California.”
“You mean he’s never been in therapy?”
“He’s under a psychiatrist’s care all right, but for paranoid schizophrenia. We’ve been trying to track him since the night of the reunion. He’s dangerous, Jennifer. We’ve got to stop him. If we don’t, he will kill again.”
She forced herself to wait, counting away ten seconds very slowly. Finally, she said, “What do you want me to do? Get an address from Leigh Ann?”
“Yes, but don’t let her know why you need it. Do we understand each other?”
“I’m sure we do. Seth, there’s one more thing.”
Dying to Remember Page 16
