“Tell me about it. I thought these women were only killed in the fall? It’s February,” another deputy replied.
Sheriff Rainy looked at Robert and was a little bothered. “I don’t believe there’s a dead body out here, agent Fillert,” Sheriff Rainy said.
Robert was furious. “Can we look some more?” he asked.
“No, it’s going to be dark soon. If we find anything in the future, I’ll immediately give you a call,” Sheriff Rainy replied.
Robert reluctantly walked back to the Sheriff’s car.
The two cars and backed down the dirt road to the two-lane road.
Three days later, Robert sat in a stupor at his desk at his office. He just stared at the Fall Slayer file folders.
The secretary walked up to Robert, dropped a letter on his desk then walked away.
Robert saw the envelope and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He knew it came from the scumbag killer. He tore it opened and read the letter.
"Chasing False Leads Dumbass? All my love, Fall Slayer," the letter read with magazine print.
Robert’s blood boiled while he stared at the taunting print. He opened up his desk drawer and placed the letter with the previous two letters. He discreetly grabbed his whiskey flask. When the coast was clear, he quickly poured whiskey into his coffee cup. He hid his flask back in the drawer.
Robert got up and walked over to the coffee pot. He poured another cup of coffee.
Two days later, Jimmy was restless and needed some action, but he did not want to perform this year’s event any sooner.
So he found action in the woods with a young colored girl named Donna. She was only sixteen years old. He previously agreed to stop this activity, but he couldn’t resist the temptation. So he forced his way with Donna while he tricked her into the woods.
“You know what will happen if you tell anybody about this Donna? It's our little secret so don’t let your daddy get hung,” Jimmy told her with a serious tone.
“Yes Sheriff Nalla. I won't tell a soul. I promise,” she said softly while she shook with fear.
“Good girl. Now run along,” Jimmy motioned with his hand.
He watched while she stood up naked and slipped on her panties then put on her bra. She slipped on her flowery dress then put on her shoes.
She ran away while her eyes welled up.
Jimmy watched while Donna stopped and barfed by a tree. He chuckled and looked proud.
Then from behind another tree, Ricky stepped out with a camera in his hand.
“Did you get some good pictures?”
“I sure did.”
“Good, now I better head on back to the office,” he told Ricky while they walked over to his squad car.
Three months later, Jimmy was alone again one Saturday afternoon. Betty went back to Montgomery to visit her sister. So he revisited his chest and looked at his souvenirs from Annette, Rhonda and Angie. He had his new True Detective magazine. It had an article about Angie’s killing and talked about the kids playing the woods that found the dead naked body. It also mentioned how FBI agent Robert Fillert was still on the case.
Later that night, he sat naked in his living room chair and masturbated while he read the article about Angie. He ejaculated on the page then closed the magazine. He dropped it into the chest and locked it. He lit a Lucky Strike cigarette and took a drag. He exhaled the smoke and again felt satisfied.
He returned the chest back to its hiding place in his attic.
The fourth of July rolled around again.
Jimmy and Homer had their usual drinking Black Label beer. Jimmy again learned that Robert Fillert was still clueless on the killer being dubbed the Fall Slayer by the media. Jimmy was satisfied that he could press on for his fourth victim.
October finally arrived and Jimmy was anxious to fill up his chest with more souvenirs.
It was early in the morning.
After Betty packed his required items in his suitcase, he kissed her then drove away and tooted his horn.
But this time, Ricky decided he did not want to tag along for the killings. So they agreed to meet at their fishing spot in Mississippi. So Jimmy left two days early and Betty knew better than to questions his reasons.
He drove up to Tennessee to find his next victim.
Later that night, Jimmy drove down a two-lane country road twenty miles outside Downing, Tennessee. There was a full Moon out tonight. But he wondered where he would find his next victim, as Downing did not provide many opportunities.
Then a car raced past him in the other direction.
He turned on his radio and the Buck Owens Leavin Dirty Tracks song played on the radio. Jimmy whistled along with the tune while he smoked a Luck Strike.
He soon saw the figure of a woman on the road about twenty feet ahead. “A lonely girl on the road in the middle of the night. How stupid can one be? But this will be great for me, as it’s my lucky day!” Jimmy talked to himself.
Jimmy drover closer and saw Sandy Lurcott, a young drop dead gorgeous girl with shoulder length blonde hair and a mole on her upper lip. She was dressed in black Capri pants and a white blouse while she walked on the other side of the road. He looked upset about something.
Jimmy drove down the road another twenty feet then turned his car around.
He drove back and stopped his car by Sandy. He leaned over and rolled down the passenger window.
“Are you okay?” Jimmy asked while he put on a good act that he was concerned.
“Sorta,” Sandy said while her eyes welled up a little.
“Would you like a ride back into town? I’m a very good listener,” Jimmy offered with a warm smile.
“I don’t know,” replied Sandy a little nervous of Jimmy.
“Don’t be afraid of me. I’m a sheriff over in Alabama. I’m safe,” Jimmy said. He removed his wallet and showed her his badge.
Sandy looked at his badge and felt comfortable with Jimmy. Then the loud clap of thunder from an approaching storm was heard.
“You’ll be completely soaked if you walk into town. Or possibly struck by lightening,” Jimmy said.
A bolt of lightening fifty feet away changed her mind. She hoped in his car.
She rolled up the window while he drove off down the road.
“So, what has you so upset? If you don’t mind me asking,” he asked with concern in his eyes and a fatherly tone in his voice.
Sandy looked at Jimmy and felt safe with him and felt he would be great listener to her problem. “Well, the evening started off nice with some drinks at Bobby’s Bar with my boyfriend, Burt. Then on the way home, the booze turned him into a jerk again!” she replied really pissed.
“What did he do to act like a jerk?” he asked.
“He tried to force his hand down my pants after I told him I wasn’t in the mood. Then he slapped me a couple of times thinking that would put me in the mood. I’m going to dump his ass first thing tomorrow.”
Jimmy reached under his seat and removed a small bottle of whiskey. He opened it up and handed it to Sandy. “Want to forget him for a while?”
Sandy grabbed the bottle and took a swig. She coughed, as she was not a frequent whiskey drinker.
She handed Jimmy the bottle. She cringed at the Buck Owens song on the radio.
“Mind if I change the channel?” she asked.
“Be my guest.”
She changed the channel and stopped when The Beatles song Day Tripper just started.
“Got a good reason for taking the easy way out,” Sandy sang along with The Beatles and forgot about her boyfriend for a second.
Jimmy cringed. “Those guys are fucking queer with their long hair,” Jimmy said while he turned off the radio. He took a swig of whiskey then handed her the bottle.
She took another swig and did not cough with this drink.
Jimmy looked at Sandy and got an evil grin while he decided to make his move.
“So, Burt tried to shove his hands down pants?”
<
br /> “Yeah. Creep!” she said while she looked out her passenger window.
“You mean like this?” Jimmy said then he quickly grabbed her crotch with his right hand.
“Hey!” Sandy yelled out while she grabbed his hand and moved it away. “Let me out!” she cried scared of Jimmy.
“Okay,” Jimmy said while he slowed his car down.
Before she knew what happened, he grabbed the back of her head and slammed her face into his crotch. He rubbed her face into his crotch and loved every second.
His eyes widened in pain. “Shit!” he screamed in pain while she grabbed a hold of his crotch with her teeth. He quickly pulled her off his crotch and threw her up against the passenger door.
“Let me out!” she screamed while she repeatedly slapped Jimmy across his face. His car swerved all over the road while they fought with each other.
Headlights shined through his windshield and a car horn blew.
Jimmy got startled when he saw a car directly in front of him. He panicked and swerved his car back into his lane.
“You almost killed me! You fucking idiot!” Sandy screamed.
Jimmy got furious then punched her in her face while he slowed his car down.
He quickly glanced out his rear window and saw the other car was far away down the road. He felt it was safe to proceed.
“Fucking bastard!” she yelled out at Jimmy and punched him in his face.
Jimmy whacked her in her throat.
Sandy gasped for air.
Jimmy grabbed her hair and repeatedly smashed her head into the dashboard. She passed out and slouched down in the seat.
Jimmy turned his car around and headed down the road.
Twenty minutes later, Jimmy had Sandy stripped naked and tied to a tree in the woods.
A big boulder about four feet high was ten feet away.
His camera was by the front of his car on the tripod ready to capture this moment.
He heard more thunder in the sky and knew it would probably start raining soon.
Jimmy walked up to Sandy who was groggy and had a splitting headache from having her head pounded on the dashboard.
“So, you like hitting men?” he yelled then swung his bat. He whacked her collarbone and it instantly snapped.
“Ahhhh!” Sandy screamed.
Jimmy swung his bat again and whacked her other collarbone and it instantly snapped.
“Ahhhh!” Sandy screamed in extreme pain.
Jimmy swung his bat and whacked her in her throat to shut her up. It worked as Sandy gasped for air while in pain.
Jimmy swung his bat and whacked her jaw. Teeth and blood flew out. He swung his bat again and a few more teeth and blood flew out when he whacked her jaw again.
He dropped the bat and grabbed her head. He twisted her neck until he heard a snap. He knew she was dead.
He walked around and picked up all her teeth he could find in the dirt. He shoved them in his pocket, and then he picked up his bat.
He rushed back to his trunk and dropped the bat inside. He removed the axle grease from his trunk.
He rushed back to Sandy and ran a streak down her stomach to represent the number “4” as his calling card.
He rushed over to the camera and snapped a picture. He took a few more pictures from different angles.
He then set the timer and rushed over Sandy. The camera snapped a picture and Jimmy looked like a proud hunter who bagged a prize deer.
He rushed over to the camera and tripod and grabbed it.
He rushed the camera and tripod to the rear of the car. He dropped it in the trunk along with the grease. He removed his gloves, dropped them in the trunk and slammed it shut.
He rushed over and got back inside his car.
He moved his car down to the paved road and stopped. He got out and performed his usual cleanup with a small tree branch to erase his tracks.
He quickly got back in his car and drove off with a satisfying smile.
The second Jimmy pulled his car onto the two-lane country road, the sky opened up and it poured.
“Perfect,” said Jimmy with a smiling knowing that the rain would help erase any signs of him being there with Sandy.
He drove off down the street whistling a tune.
When he was thirty miles down the road, he threw her purse and shoes out the window.
The next morning, he met up with Ricky at Artabatian Lake outside Pierce, Mississippi.
Ricky had a new white 1966 Ford Thunderbird with blue interior for Jimmy.
While they fished on the lake, Jimmy told Ricky of his time with Sandy.
Ricky then confessed he raped a white teenage girl on the way to the lake. Her name was Betsy and was from Melford, Mississippi.
Jimmy looked proud of his little brother and they again promised to take their secrets to their graves.
The next day arrived. Billy drove off in the 65 Galaxie while Jimmy drove off with the 66 Thunderbird.
But along the way back to Boldger, Alabama, Jimmy stopped off in another tattoo parlor in another town.
Jimmy drove his new 1966 Ford Thunderbird home and showed it off to Betty.
She loved it.
Then she saw that the letters under his skull tattoo has grown to “A, R, A, and S” and she just accepted his foolishness.
Inside his garage, Jimmy did his same routine of placing Sandy’s clothes, teeth, and the bloody tip of the bat into his chest. After he developed the pictures from his camera, he dropped the photos of Sandy and himself, as the proud hunter into the chest and locked it. He hid the wooden chest back up in his attic.
He went inside the house and showed Betty the pictures of Ricky and himself fishing on the lake. She never had a clue what Jimmy actually did before he went fishing.
Two days later, a farmer’s hound dog ran off into the woods and he went after him. The farmer found his dog barking at Sandy’s dead body tied to the tree. The farmer ran back to his farm house and called the Sheriff.
An hour later, Sheriff Phil Dickson from Downing, Tennessee arrived at the scene with three deputies. The farmer showed them Sandy’s body, and they immediately roped off the area. After Sheriff Dickson noticed the number on her belly, he got pissed. He knew that the Fall Slayer was in his neck of the woods.
“Steve,” he called out to his deputy.
“Yeah, Sheriff,” Steve replied while he walked over.
“Call the office and request they call the FBI office up in Atlanta. I want Agent Robert Fillert down here. I think we have another Fall Slayer victim,” he told Steve.
“Yes sir,” Steve replied then ran back to his squad car. He sat inside his car and called their dispatcher.
Sheriff Dickson and his other two deputies stared at Sandy. They were furious that some scumbag would do such a horrible crime to a woman close to their quiet town.
Four hours had passed.
A government car drove down the dirt road and parked behind the squad cars.
Sheriff Dickson watched while Robert and Carl got out and walked over to the area.
“I’m agent Robert Fillert,” he said while he flashed his identification badge. “And this is Carl Meyers,” he added while Carl flashed his identification.
They all shook hands.
Robert went under the rope to check out the fourth victim.
“Does anybody know her name?” Robert asked while he walked up to Sandy.
“No sir,” Sheriff Dickson replied.
Robert stopped four feet from Sandy where flies buzzed around her dead flesh. He saw the “4” grease mark on her belly and knew this was the work of the Fall Slayer.
He looked at her face and saw the mole on her upper lip. Something struck him as being familiar with this girl. He reached in his suit pocket and removed a pair of white gloves. After he put them on, he lifted her face by her chin to get a better look. It hit him hard. He looked sick and turned white as a ghost.
He rushed over to that big rock and barfed behind it.
“He’s never done this with the other victims,” Carl said and looked a little concerned.
“I thought about barfing the second I saw her,” Sheriff Dickson said.
The three deputies nodded in agreement, as they’ve never had such a horrible crime in their peacefully county.
“That scum of a human sure beat the crap out of this poor girl. We couldn't find any identification,” Sheriff Dickson said while they watched Robert sit white as a ghost on the rock.
“Her name is Sandy Lurcott,” Robert told everybody while his eyes welled up.
“Do you know her?” Carl asked.
Robert choked up and fought off from crying. “She’s the sister of my best friend from college,” Robert said then he walked away.
“Oh my God,” Sheriff Dickson said quietly to himself and felt sorry for Sam.
“Take tons of fucking pictures,” Robert yelled at Carl while he headed back to his government car.
Carl snapped tons of pictures.
Inside the government car, Robert’s eyes welled up and he removed a small flask of whiskey from his inside suit pocket. He took a huge swig. All he could think about was finding that killer and snapping his neck like a twig. His body started shaking while all he could think about was Sandy being killed. His blood started to boil thinking about that killer. But he knew the killer was smarter than what he was and might never catch him.
It was quiet while Robert and Carl drove back to their Atlanta office.
Thanksgiving arrived and it was the traditional turkey dinner at the Nalla house with Melvin, Ricky and Emily.
Christmas arrived.
Jimmy and Homer had their usual Christmas Black Label beers at Jimmy’s house.
“How’s that Fall Slayer case coming along?” Jimmy asked the second Homer sat down on his couch.
Jimmy handed Homer a can of beer.
“Nowhere,” said Homer while he opened up his can of beer.
Confession Page 16
