by catt dahman
“Oh, you can bluff me all you want, Sheriff McLendon, but I ain’t blind or stupid, and I saw both of you lining up those clues and figuring it out. I am going to owe Mason Lord a ton before this is done,” He chuckled. “So what had you so fired up after meeting Hollingsworth?”
Virgil wanted to beat his own head on the desk; he had gotten sidetracked and forgot to tell Sheriff Kirby what he and Tina believed. “This Beck family. They aren’t the first kill. Hollingsworth had a different first kill.”
“How do you know? The files indicate he was found guilty of the first one, which was like the Becks. He killed three families. I have three crime scenes.”
“Did he admit anything? I don’t have time to go through the testimony quite yet.”
Kirby concentrated, “He was connected to the three crime scenes, and he was convicted. Death sentence on all three cases because they were multiples and involved a child under ten years of age. He never confessed, never answered questions, and never had his lawyer present a defense. He waved appeals. He was caught when he slipped up.
He broke into a fourth couple’s home, but they had a grandfather that lived there with the family, the man’s father. The older gentleman was a former police officer, and he awakened, found Hollingsworth holding a knife, and shot him, and the rest was history, we can say.”
Tina made a funny sound as she shook her head, “Slipped up, my ass. He didn’t slip up.”
Reb Kirby agreed, “I said that all along, but that’s what the records show. He didn’t make mistakes, so he would have known about the former cop living there. He was finished with his work.”
Virgil was sidetracked again as he listened, gathering all the history and forming ideas. With almost a mental jerk, he fought back to his original point. “I want to review the cases and compare them, but Sheriff, Doctor Hollingsworth committed more murders; he killed another family first. The Beck scenario wasn’t like Hollingsworth’s first kill. It was like his second.”
“That’s impossible. I mean. How do you know?” Kirby sat up straight.
“Because I asked him to tell me about the first one, and he did. And it isn’t the Beck family.”
“Son of a bitch….” Kirby muttered, “so we have an undiscovered crime scene?”
Chapter Six: Deputies Matter
Virgil carried the last box out to his car, and he and Tina waved at Sheriff Kirby, motioning that they would follow. The diner was the next stop; all of them were starving. Small town Mom and Pop diners always had the best food.
“I don’t know what y’all like, but you can’t go wrong with the chicken fried steak and gravy. Stacey will add some fried taters and black-eyed peas, buttered carrots, and some cornbread to die for. Get the buttermilk, and you’re in Heaven,” Kimiko Staggs, a young deputy told them. She was wispy thin, had pale blue eyes, and straight dark hair she kept pinned back. If she ate that way, it didn’t show. She pointed to the items on of the menu and rubbed her belly.
“Stacey’s has good meatloaf, too. She makes it Italian style with onions and peppers and red sauce,” said Sheriff Kirby as he sat across from Virgil and Tina in the booth with Kimiko. He gave Stacey a wave as another waitress came over to serve them.
Kimiko stretched her arms out like a sleek cat and said, “Stacey is a good cook, and I never get tired of the food. I love everything here.”
“We’ll start with some of Stacey’s iced sweet coffee; make it four. I wanna make these two fans of it fast as I can,” Kirby said. “We’re all crazy for her iced coffee; it’s unreal.”
Julie, the waitress laughed, “Oh, Sheriff K is a hot mess with his addiction to the iced coffee. Yanno people come here just for cups of iced coffee. Someone should open up a fancy coffee shop one day and let people get all kinds, ya never know. How you doing, Kimiko? Working hard?”
“Pretty much. I have all the details from the guys since we have a special prisoner to guard all the time, and the Sheriff is working with these fine folks,” Kimiko said, not daring to add who was in their lock-up or mention that the FBI agents guarded the criminal, Hollingsworth, twenty-four hours a day. It was a secret.
“I just sent food back for them at the jail, two orders of meatloaf, a fried chicken, and some country chicken fried steak. Also I sent a whole apple pie and some iced tea and iced coffee,” Julie said. “I think you’ll have a lot of full folks back to the jail.”
“It all sounds good to me,” Tina said. “Are the cheese burgers good? That sounds good to me for some reason.”
Julie nodded, “You bet they are. That meal comes with two big burgers, cheese dripping, the works, and a side of chili cheese fries, and onion rings. Everyone loves the onion rings; they’re hand battered.”
“That’s what I want,” Tina said.
After they ordered, they tried the iced coffee and found it was strong, sweet, and flavored slightly with cinnamon, and good. Virgil asked Kimiko about her job as a deputy, saying he noticed there were more females going into law.
“Awe, I was a bad kid, always getting in trouble for stuff such as shoplifting, drinking, or fighting. I was ‘hell on wheels’. We grew up poor with just Mama at home and me and two sisters. Sheriff Kirby was always having to pick me up for stealing or fighting out in public, and about the tenth time, he sat me down, and we just talked, talked about losing his wife and not havin’ kids and other topics.”
“That was kind of him,” Virgil said.
“He changed my life,” said Kimiko and meant it. He had helped change her.
“Good,” Virgil said.
“I was one step from drugs and real trouble. That time, he made me work, and I was so mad at him, but my mama agreed to Jeb’s making me work because she was fed up with me. Mama didn’t take no guff off her kids. I had to file things, look up all this boring stuff about law, and run errands. He made me run the switchboard, and I was horrible at it.”
She remembered how she had once answered a call. A woman called from a local bar and said there was a drunk man with a gun. Glaring at Kirby, Kimiko radioed, “Unit Three, come in, Over. Under. Whatever.”
“Unit Three here, go ahead.”
“Hey, you need to get down to Earl’s cause there’s a drunk raising hell as usual.”
“Huh?”
Sheriff Kirby chuckled and pointed to numbers.
“Damn. 10-33. No, 10-31. No, hey, man with a gun.”
“Headquarters, is that a 10-32? Over.” Harold Tackett was trying to be serious but was laughing at Kimiko. He knew she was trying, but it made him laugh, all the same. She’d better get used to that because there was always a 10-32 going on at Earl’s on the weekend.
“I dunno.” She saw Kirby nod. “Yeah, 10-32 over to Earl’s.” After hearing more, she repeated, “10-39 on that, Harold. Ummm. Unit There.”
“Say ‘over’.”
“Over,” Kimiko repeated, rolling her eyes.
“10-4. We are 10-76. 10-77 two minutes. Over.”
“Tell them 10-4.”
“They told you when they would arrive at the scene, so we know when to expect them to be there. The numbers kept people from getting all the information if they were listening in, and they made it easy and clear for us.”
Kimiko finished that call, finding the correct codes, directing the deputy, and making notes. She liked the numbers that meant things and that she could use a code that most didn’t know. She never dreamed ideas could become numbers. She found the thrill intoxicating and begged to take more calls. Kirby told her if she behaved, went to school and graduated, then she could come work after classes let out and on the weekends. The deputies teased her about her first calls, but it was good-natured joking, and she felt a part of the group.
“You loved the work, huh?” Tina asked.
“I did. He taught me everything he knew, and I became one of the team, yanno. Sheriff Kirby was a patient man. As soon as I graduated, I started work. It was steady, and I was saving money, and I was out of trouble. I know I want to st
ay in criminology.”
Kirby smiled after he swallowed a bite of meatloaf. “She had the smarts but didn’t have a focus. She just was bored and needed something to keep her busy. She forgot to add that she took a class or two every semester towards her degree.”
Kimiko blushed and replied, “Yeah.”
“Straight A’s, too.”
Tina nodded, “That’s great.” The small town reminded her of her own small town. When crime happened in a small town, it felt personal, and she knew how the others felt. She knew Kimiko was proud of her success and that it may have saved her life or saved her a stint in prison. Boldly, she asked, “Sheriff Kirby, is it possible Kimiko could help us as we work? If she wants to do it, and if she is a good note taker….”
“I was thinking of her already. She has a calm demeanor and can handle Hollingsworth, I think. I want her kept safe, though. Kimmy has a lot of potential. She could learn a lot from, you folks.”
“I could,” Kimiko said, “and I’d love to help you. I really want to learn how you work.” Despite being thin, she ate her chicken fried steak dinner with grits, kale, mushrooms, and a side of green beans, and then she had a piece of peach cobbler for dessert. She gave Sheriff Kirby competition for eating big.
“This is mighty fine, Julie,” Virgil said, “and that’s the best cobbler I’ve ever eaten.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Stacey. She’s awfully proud of her desserts.” Julie winked. “Someday come in for the lemon chess pie or peanut butter-chocolate cake.”
Tina groaned since she was stuffed but asked, “Apple pie?”
“Freshly made and with a scoop of real vanilla ice cream that melts right in, tart and stuffed full of apples,” Julie told her.
Tina groaned again.
After finishing, Virgil and Tina went with Sheriff Kirby to his home. It was large and built with a lot of rocks and glass, so it felt bigger than it was and made use of the land as sections rose higher; it was modest but elegant. The house was built around large, old trees and boulders. The furnishings were nice, simple, and comfortable, but uncluttered, and a piano was in the den. Along with the piano were easy chairs and a bulky sofa designed for comfort. The comfortable den was situated off the kitchen.
“My wife used to play. Please make yourself at home here, and play if you want. I love hearing the piano.”
“Did you lose her long ago?”
“Ten years ago,” Kirby told Tina, “she was hit by a drunk driver. That’s my weakness that Hollingsworth digs at, the fact that I didn’t get him off the roads sooner. I thought the drunk was getting sober and getting help, but I was wrong, and I failed.”
“I’m sorry,” Virgil said.
Reb Kirby shrugged. “My cross to bear.”
Virgil sat down. He began with easy pieces, and the piano was fine as he pounded his way into complex pieces, his hands flying as he played. The seemingly discordant notes mellowed into something pleasant after a while, and then Virgil finished with an upbeat, popular song that he guessed at as he found the notes. All of his stress lifted. At home, he played almost every night, teaching Charlene some easier pieces; it was how he made time for just her.
“Beautiful. You are talented, Virgil.” The sheriff enjoyed listening to genuine talent. Virgil put raw passion into his playing.
“Thank you, Reb.” He was surprised to see he had played for half an hour and blushed to know he had an audience the whole time. “I release all the bad feelings this way. I guess the doctor got to me more than I thought.”
“He was feeling around for weak spots,” Tina said. “Why does he do that? He asked for our help and offered a tasty trade to get Virgil to work with him, so why does he poke around for weak spots?”
“I think he is convinced he is the smartest person on earth and beyond emotions. To reinforce that, he digs at us, trying to see what hurts us, emotionally. It’s how he shows power. I think of him like an emotional vampire,” said Reb as he chuckled at the thought.
“That’s accurate,” Tina said.
Reb Kirby nodded, “The agents guarding him were told never to engage in conversation with him and to say as little as possible. If he knows personal information, he uses it. He’s locked up tightly and has never attempted an escape, but I’ve been eatin’ antacids like candy since he came to my jail. He makes me nervous. It’s as if he’s some wild animal, just watching for prey.”
“I feel the same way,” Tina said, “he dug and dug at us.”
“He’s clever,” Virgil said, “and he said a lot, so it’s hard to know what matters. I wonder if he’s the type that believes everything he says is vital?”
“How should we handle the investigation, Virg? It’s as if we have a storm and can’t decide what to grab first.”
“I got a deputy doing welfare checks on some folks we ain’t seen in a few weeks. Some people aren’t sociable, but those are the ones we’re checking on. I sure hope you’re wrong about there being a scene we missed, but I fear you’re right,” Reb said since he was concerned about a few families.
“I want to see the other crime scenes in the morning. I’m not reading about it because I want to walk it and see what we have. Are you sure it isn’t the Copycat, Sheriff?”
Kirby shrugged, “At this point, it could be. Hell, for all I know, Hollingsworth sneaked out and did it himself.” He laughed without humor. “Maybe he did…naw…I think someone wanted it to look like the Copycat, but well, it’s best you walk it and tell me. Other than the bodies which were lying around, the blood was dried where it was when we first saw it. You can use the photos to get the blood right in your head. It was a bad scene, too, one of the worst ever. It’s as if my town went to hell all at once.”
“I’m tired,” Tina said as she stood. She was ready for a long sleep.
“Last room down the hall is yours. That bed is said to be the softest, most comfortable bed on earth, so you’ll sleep well. Use all the hot water you want to shower or take a bath, get a snack if you want, and look around for whatever you want or need; just dig around, and you’ll find it. I got quilts and all kinds of junk in closets if you need anything. Make yourselves at home. Breakfast is at seven down to the diner, and then we’ll go to look at the place you need to see.”
“We appreciate the hospitality.”
“I’m glad to have you both here.”
Virgil thanked the sheriff again and managed a sleepy call to his wife, Vivian, before he passed out into a solid sleep. He told her about the case and his dinner and about staying at Reb’s house. He missed her, and she filled his head with funny stories and endearments. Vivian always made him laugh, but he was
mentally and physically exhausted. He slept straight through the night and felt refreshed, and if he had nightmares about Dr. Hollingsworth, he didn’t remember them when he awoke
“Did you sleep okay?” asked Virgil.
“I did, thanks.”
And then they greeted Reb Kirby who asked, “Tina, did you sleep well?
“Very, I was out cold.” That bed needs to come home with me. I love it. It’s like falling into a nest of feathers.
“We have Starla Stoker in custody. I made the arrest day before yesterday after some pressure because, to be honest, I don’t know what else to do. She and her husband, Mike, and their baby, Cherry, have been staying with her sister’s family. But I need to show you the Stokes’ house.
Tina adjusted her holster as they walked to the roomy, large one-story, well-maintained house. It sat in a nice neighborhood. Starla said she wasn’t sure if she locked the door, which was normal for them. No signs of B and E.”
They pushed the wooden, nine-pane windowed back door, open and walked in to an area between the kitchen and the laundry room. Dried footprints led to the door and away. Going the other direction, Virgil walked into the kitchen where blood had dried in diluted puddles. Flakes and stains filled the sink.
“What does she claim happened?” Virgil stopped. He needed a little background.
“She woke up and came downstairs to check her on children who were all camped out in the den, watching a late night animal show. Four were down here. The oldest was Beth, a mature twelve-year-old; then, there were Carl who was five, Ricky who was eight, and Laura, who was three. They all minded Beth well and were tucked in for the night.”
“Even the little one.”
“Yeah, they said the baby was good about minding her big sister. Starla said she got up, feeling strange and didn’t know why, heard something like glass breaking, and came down here. She was attacked at the foot of the stairs but chased the attacker to the back door and locked it when he ran outside.
She called the dispatcher before she saw anything was wrong. After that, it was chaotic. She said she hardly realized she was cut, but I just don’t buy the story. She claims not to remember half the details.”
Virgil nodded. It sounded bad so far.
He went straight to the stairs. He wanted to begin there first. At the landing on the beige carpet were big drops of blood in circles, indicating that they fell straight down from a wound. He backed up and followed the spots with his eyes. Someone had been moving quickly but not running. He had run back through the kitchen and to the back door. There were handprints as if someone had closed a door and locked it with bloodied hands.
“Event one.” Tina wrote a note on her pad. She went back and studied the foot of the stairs again, making more notes. There was a lot of blood for Starla Stoker to claim she didn’t know she was hurt. Why would she not know?
Virgil squatted and looked at broken glass, papers, and a chain and locket lying on the floor on top of the blood stains. He scooped up the locket and slid it into his pocket for later, making sure that Tina noted it and Kirby nodded an okay.
“The knife was there. See the puddle of blood in the shape?”
Virgil followed Kirby’s finger and looked at the counter top; a lot of blood was around where the knife was lying. “How did it end up here?”
