“We got a break, finally,” the Bureau man said. “Some senator’s grandkid got all doped up at a party, and later that night she was used in a porn film Back East. The next day she went running to her granddad, and he blew his top. The girl was fourteen years old. So now kiddie porn and snuff films get high priority with us.” The wind shifted directions, and Scott wrinkled his nose at a very foul odor. The breeze died down and the odor was gone. “This Carlos Washington just might be the key to opening up this nasty can of worms.”
The wind again shifted, bringing the terrible odor with it. This time, they all smelled it.
“Phew!” Bev and Katti said, waving their hands in front of their noses.
“That’s something dead,” Cole said. “I’ve smelled it too many times not to know that odor.”
The wind abruptly died down to nothing, and the smell was gone.
“So, since the missing sisters crossed state lines, you people have been assigned to the case, right?” Al questioned the Bureau men.
“That’s it. But the SAC in Memphis says he does not want to see anything more about ghosts or ghost clubs in my reports.”
“Even though they might have something to do with this case?” Bob asked.
“He does not want to read about ghosts,” Scott said firmly. “He . . .” Scott trailed that off, his eyes following Cole as he walked to the clearing and looked up into the sky.
“Vultures,” Cole said, pointing. “Something is definitely down over there.”
“Let’s check it out,” George said.
“Wait a minute,” Al said, holding up a hand. “That’s private property, and it’s posted. Let’s don’t do anything that might screw up any case we might build against Victoria.” He looked at his chief deputy. “Tom, you go call Kliner with Wildlife and Fisheries. Those guys can go any damn place they want to go, and they don’t need a warrant.”
Roy Kliner was on the scene in half an hour. “Let’s go,” he told the group. “You’re assisting me, and no warrant is required.”
“Victoria is not going to like this,” Al said.
“Fuck Victoria,” the Wildlife and Fisheries man said. “Excuse my language, ladies,” he quickly added. “I ain’t never had any use for that woman, and never will. She’s cruel to animals, and I can’t abide anybody who is cruel to animals.”
Two of Victoria’s hired hands were on the scene before the group had walked five hundred yards. “You’re trespassing,” one of them told Roy.
“Fuck you, Lucas,” Kliner said. “Now get out of my way, or go to jail. The choice is yours.”
“I’m going to fetch Miss Victoria,” Lucas said.
“Fine. You do that,” Kliner told him. Then he grinned wickedly. “Is she able to hop around, since gettin’ pronged in the ass?”
Lucas and his partner hotfooted it toward the mansion and the group walked on, the smell getting worse with every step.
“That’s no animal,” Cole said.
“You mighty right about that, boy,” the older man said. “My eyesight might not be what it used to be, but there ain’t nothin’ wrong with my nose. That’s rotting human flesh.”
Katti stopped. “I think I’ll stay right here.”
“Stay with her,” Jim told Gary.
The group walked on.
The sounds of grunting came to them.
“Hogs workin’ at whatever it is,” Kliner said. “Hog’ll eat damn near anything.”
George turned a little green around the mouth.
“Bes’ way in the world to get rid of a body, is toss it in a hog pen,” Kliner added.
“I may never eat bacon again,” George muttered.
“You eat chicken, don’t you?” Kliner asked, without breaking step.
“Of course, I do. It’s good for you,” George replied.
“Chicken’ll shit, then turn around and eat it,” Kliner told him. “Toss a body into a river, and the fish and turtles will gnaw on it. You eat fish and turtle soup, don’t you?”
“I may never eat anything again,” George said.
“Crabs will dine on a body,” Kliner wouldn’t let up. “You ever eat crabs?”
“If you don’t mind!” George said.
Kliner chuckled and walked on. He paused to pick up a large stick from the ground.
“What’s that for?” George asked.
“To beat off the hogs. Might have to shoot one, if he’s a tusker. Hog can hurt you bad. I had a pet hog, when I was a little boy. Followed me around like a dog. Nobody would mess with me, when Norman was around.”
“You had a pet hog named Norman?” George asked.
“Sure did. Big boar. I used to play hide-and-seek with him. He was smart. Lived a long time. Whoa!” the older man drew up short. “There it is, Al. Two bodies. But the hogs has been workin’ at ’em. Let’s shoo ’em off.”
“Go get the tape, Frank,” Al said. “Secure this area.”
The group looked at the bodies of the two girls. Al lifted his walkie-talkie and keyed it. “Marge,” he called into dispatch. “Get hold of Sheriff Buster Perkins. Tell him we probably found his missing girls. They’re both 10–7.”
Victoria came rolling and bounced up in a golf cart, sitting on a pillow. “What the hell are you doing on my property!” she shouted. She spotted the dead bodies and said, “Oh, shit! Who are they?”
“You don’t know?” Al asked.
“How the hell would I know them?”
“You tell me.”
“Get them off my property immediately,” Victoria commanded. “They smell.”
“Go on back to your house, Victoria,” Al told her. “Right now. And don’t open your mouth again. Just do what I tell you to do without argument.”
Victoria looked at the sheriff, much like a queen would look at a peasant. “You, Al Pickens, do not give me orders on my own property.”
Scott held up his ID. “This is a federal matter, Miss Staples. And I warn you, if you and your hired hands do not vacate this area within fifteen seconds, I will place all of you under arrest for obstruction of justice. Is that clear enough?”
Victoria glared hate at him. But she knew better than to push it any further. She turned her golf cart around and headed back to her mansion. She twisted around in the seat one time, to give the group the middle finger. “Fuck you!” she said, just loud enough for all to hear.
“I wouldn’t fuck you with the Ayatollah’s dick, Victoria,” Kliner called after her.
That got the group two middle fingers from Victoria.
“Well!” George said, and before he could stop himself, he gave her one right back.
Scott smiled at his partner; George was loosening up. His smile faded as he turned back to the bodies of the young girls. Kliner was helping string the CRIME SCENE—DO NOT CROSS tape.
“I’ll bet you both a month’s pay Victoria had nothing to do with this,” Cole said to the Bureau man, speaking in low tones.
Both Scott and George nodded their heads in agreement, George saying, “I agree. They wouldn’t slip up this badly, after making as many of those disgusting movies as we think they’ve made.”
Scott said, “George, call this in. We need some forensic people here ASAP.”
“Right.”
“Here’s a purse, Al,” Gary called, pointing. “And here’s another one.”
Scott acknowledged that with a nod and a wave, and said, “We need evidence bags, too, George.”
“Right.” George turned to go, paused to look at the bodies, and knelt down beside the dead girls. With the tip of a pen, he pointed to a stain on the back of the older girl’s jeans. “Look here. I bet you that’s motor oil.” He moved the pen over a few inches. “And that, folks, is the very faint imprint of a tire tread.”
Katti had walked up, tired of being left out of things. She was pale at the sight of the dead and bloated girls, but held her food down. “You think the girl was run over?”
George shook his head. “No. The tread isn�
��t that clearly outlined. I think they were being transported in the trunk of a car.”
When George had walked back to the cars, Cole said, “He’s a good cop, Scott.”
“Yes, he is. And I think being around you people has helped turn him into a fairly likeable person.”
“I think he’s cute,” Bev said. “He’s got a great-looking tush.”
“Oh, lord!” Scott said, but it was softened with a grin.
* * *
By lunchtime the place was filled with FBI agents from the Memphis and Little Rock offices, and two top guns were coming in from Washington. Al was more than happy to turn the whole shebang over to the Bureau and back out of the investigation.
Jim Deaton and his people decided to nose around a bit, Katti went back to the motel to rest, Bob Jordan hung around with Scott and George, and Cole and the sheriff headed out to see Luddy and Earl, who had been released from the hospital and were once more living out in the country in their trailer.
Earl and Luddy were reading the Bible, when Al and Cole showed up at the trailer. Both of them limped badly, due to the soles of their feet having been burned raw during their experience in the old roadhouse. Cole and the sheriff could see that both men were changed for the better, and it was not a temporary conversion. That was obvious. The interior of the trailer was spotless, the men were clean-shaven with fresh haircuts, their clothing recently washed and ironed. They offered Cole and Al iced tea.
“We don’t drink no more,” Luddy explained. “And me and Earl signed up at the local Vo-Tech for classes this fall. We got to make something out of ourselves.”
“Something good, for a change,” Earl added.
Seated, with glasses of iced tea in front of them on the coffee table, Al asked, “Either of you boys remember anything else about your, ah, experience?”
The men exchanged glances. Luddy said, “Yeah, but you’re gonna think we’re crazy. I mean, ever’body else does. Why should you be different?”
“Try me and see.”
Earl nodded his head. “First of all, I want to level with you. I told this to the preacher, and he said we have to come clean. So okay. I will, and take whatever the law hands out. It come to me a few days ago, why Neely was out here to see us. He hired us to work you people over. Not kill you, mind you. Just hammer on you some.” His eyes took in Cole’s solid bulk, big knuckle-scarred hands, and thick wrists. “Although now I’m real glad we didn’t try that. I think we’d-a come out on the short end of the stick.”
“Neely doesn’t have that kind of money. He works for Victoria Staples.”
“That’s right. I can’t prove this, but me and Luddy here both believe it was Victoria, who really put up the money for us to ambush y’all.”
“Why would she do that?” Cole questioned.
Luddy shook his head. “That, we don’t know. But, Sheriff, there’s been strange goings-on out to the mansion for years.”
“Such as?”
“Well, you ’member an ol’ boy used to work around here named Floyd Mason?”
“Yeah. He’s been gone for some time now.” Al had punched on a small tape recorder. “Any objections?”
“No,” Luddy said. “I want to clear my mind. Floyd’s been gone three years now. Well, ’fore he left, he come to see me. Swore me to silence forever, ’bout what he had to say. Well, we’re cousins on mama’s side of the family, and blood is thicker than water. So I tole him to go ahead on with his story. He was scared, Sheriff. Real scared. He told me and Earl the damnest story you ever heard. Said Win Bryan come to see him one day, and told him that Miss Victoria wanted to see him. So Win took him out to the mansion. Miss Victoria told him to strip. I mean, right down to the buff. There was a big nigger there, too. Said his name was Carlos something or another. Well, when Floyd was buckassed nekkid, Miss Victoria, she just reached out and hefted Floyd’s pecker. Floyd said he jumped like he’d been hit with a cattle prod—startled him. I mean, she felt him up like she was inspectin’ a side of beef. Floyd, he had him a pretty good-sized pecker, for a man who wasn’t no bigger than a popcorn fart. Miss Victoria said that he would do, and would he like to make some real good money. ’Course, Floyd said he would. Floyd said that for a couple of years or so after that, he made movies. He said it come to a point where he just couldn’t take no more of it. Now, Sheriff, you know that Floyd was a bad one. He’s stole, and he’s kilt more’un one man and he’s tooken some pussy when the women din wanna give him none. But he tole me he couldn’t hep harm no more younguns. He tole me he done some terrible things out to Miss Victoria’s mansion. Awful pre-verted things. To both girls and boys. Children was all they was, he said. I asked him what he’d done that was so terrible, but he wouldn’t tell me. Said I was better off not knowin’. Now you know what I know, and I feel better for it.”
“Where is Floyd now?”
Luddy shook his head. “I don’t know. I ain’t seen him to this day. His mama grieved some for him for a time. But I guess she finally ’cepted that he wasn’t comin’ back. But he showed me a wad of money, Sheriff. Fifties and hundreds in a tote bag. Stuffed full. Must have been twenty thousand dollars in there. Made my eyes bug out, it did.”
“This black fellow,” Cole said. “Was his nickname Long Dong?”
“That’s it! Shore enuff. That’s it. Floyd said he was a bad one. And, Sheriff? Floyd said your boy Albert was all mixed up in whatever was goin’ on. Albert, Nick Pullen, Bert McClusky, Doc Drake, and Win Bryan, too. And them women deputies work for you, Maggie and Cynthia? They made dirty movies, too. Floyd said they was a few big, powerful people involved also. But he wouldn’t tell me no names. Well, he did tell me that he wasn’t ever in no danger of doin’ no more hard time, long as he worked for Miss Victoria. Said she had some judges in her pocket.”
Al tapped the tape recorder. “If I get this transcribed and typed up, will you sign it?”
“I shore will.”
Cole took a drink of iced tea. “Luddy? Earl? What did you fellows see in that old roadhouse?”
“We seen the devil, Mister,” Earl said. “Close up and real. And there ain’t no way to describe the sight. It changes at the blink of an eye. It’s . . . terrible.”
Luddy nodded his head in agreement. “Sheriff? There was one more name that Cousin Floyd mentioned. Said he was all mixed up in the terrible doin’s at the mansion. Capt. Curtis Wood. Said Captain Wood had something on Victoria. Something about her parents. But he didn’t know what.”
Al had always had a very strong suspicion about the deaths of Victoria’s parents. But the sheriff before him would not discuss it. “And you have no idea where Floyd is now?”
“No, sir. But I ’spect he changed his name and appearance bes’ he could. Said he was goin’ to try to forget the bad things he’d done out to the mansion. But he reckoned that was near’-bouts impossible. Said he’d just have to live with it.”
Al and Cole thanked the men and stood up. Luddy’s voice turned them around in the yard. “Sheriff? Y’all watch it, if you go out to that ol’ roadhouse again. You can’t beat the devil. Don’t never get sucked in that front door. I don’t know why me and Earl was spared. I’m just glad we was.”
On the drive back to the office to have the statement typed up, Al said, “Do you really think those men saw the devil?”
Cole nodded his head. “Yeah. I really think they did.”
Al Pickens could not contain a shudder. “Gives me the creeps.”
“The experience sure changed those two back at the trailer.”
“This tape we got isn’t worth a shit in a court of law,” Al abruptly changed the subject.
“No. But it’s another step in the right direction. What do you say we go lean on this Neely person?”
“I’d rather go lean on Win Bryan. But he’s tough as a boot. He won’t break. You’re right. Let’s go see Neely.”
“You know him?”
Al smiled. “He’s my wife’s second cousin. But she doesn’t cl
aim him.”
Six
“What do you want?” Neely asked, standing in the door of his house.
“Some conversation,” Al told him.
“I ain’t got a damn thing to say to you!”
Al grabbed his wife’s second cousin by the front of his shirt, jerked him out of the door, and threw him off the porch. Neely landed hard on his belly, knocking the wind from him.
“Sometimes you just have to get their attention,” Al said, stepping off the porch.
Neely groaned and caught his breath, then grabbed Al around the leg and tried to bite him. Al stomped on the man’s hand with the heel of a boot. Neely howled and turned loose.
“You’re stupid, Neely. But, hell, you’ve always been stupid. You were a stupid kid, and now you’re a stupid man. Why should anything change?”
Neely lay on the ground and cussed him.
“When you get done cussing me, cousin-in-law, we’ll talk. Anytime you’re ready. I got all day.”
Neely stopped his cussing and lay still and quiet for a moment. “What is it you want to know?” he finally asked.
“That’s better, Cousin. Who paid you to hassle those folks out in the country the other night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
Al sighed. “I guess you want to do this the hard way, Cousin. Okay. You’re under arrest for murder.”
“I’m what?”
“You have the right to remain silent . . .”
“I ain’t kilt nobody, Sheriff . . .”
“If you give up that right ...”
“Wait a damn minute here . . .”
“. . . Anything you say can and will be used against you in a . . .”
“Hold on!”
“... court of law.”
“Wait a damn minute!”
“You have the right to have an attorney present . . .”
“Goddammit, Sheriff!”
“... during questioning. If you cannot afford . . .”
“I ain’t kilt nobody, goddammit!”
“... an attorney, one will be appointed. Do you understand your rights?”
Rockabilly Hell Page 18
