Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series)

by Martin Cogburn

  Jenny was silent for a moment as she studied him. Seeing he was sincere, she smiled. “That’s okay,” she said kindly. “Unfortunately, misjudgment is a common problem.”

  Jason returned her smile and nodded his head in agreement. It did seem to be that way. “So what’s his story?” he asked.

  Jenny let out a sad sigh. “We grew up together. I always admired him from afar,” she said with a roll of her eyes, like that was her usual way of admiring things. “When he finished school, he went to work at a steel mill over on the other side of town and eventually ended up owning it. He soon became one of this town’s wealthiest and most respected men. He married his high school sweetheart, and her beauty and the love that they shared was nothing short of legendary. He had everything going for him… but then,” she paused and sniffed as a tear trickled down her cheek, “he, he – he lost everything. His wife was killed in a car wreck and he just,” she sighed, trying to compose herself, “he just lost everything… When she died, he quit living. He sold his steel mill for basically nothing and gave their house to a charity – told folks he couldn’t live there without her.” Jason knew the feeling.

  She shook her head and wiped the moisture from her eyes before going on. “He just moved out into that dirty ole’ alley, and he’s been using the money he has left to try and wash her memory away, ever since,” she paused for a moment and sighed. “Poor man, I think he knows the truth. The truth is, you can never forget true love – so all he knows to do is dull the pain.”

  Jason leaned back and sighed. Knowing Donald’s story certainly changed the way he viewed him.

  Jenny shook her head and ran her fingers through her brown hair. A stray strand flopped over one eye and, in retaliation, she shaped her bottom lip upward and blew it out of her face. “So what brings you here?” she asked, giving Jason a little smile.

  “I have a surprise for you,” he replied as he pulled the napkin from his pocket, laid it on the desk and unfolded it.

  Jenny clasped her hands together, and her eyes lit up when she saw the locket. “For me?” she asked excitedly.

  “Oh, um, no,” Jason stammered. “Sorry. Um, my fault. I worded that wrong. This isn’t for you. It belongs to my wife.”

  “Then how could you give it away?” Jenny asked, unable to comprehend his complete lack of sentimentality.

  “I’m not giving it away,” Jason explained quickly. “It was on her neck the night she was kidnapped. I found it today at the park where it all happened and was hoping someone here could get some prints off of it. Can you point me in the right direction?”

  “Sure,” Jenny answered, then pointed… at herself?

  “You? You’re the…” he didn’t know the official name for someone who checks things for prints. “You’re the print lady?” Jason asked confused. “But you’re the sketch artist.”

  “Prints are my main job,” Jenny explained perkily. “I just do sketch artist whenever needed. I told you I was a Jenny of all trades,” she said with a laugh, and Jason joined in. Wow, what a talented woman.

  It was then that Jason looked down and noticed what she had been staring at on her desk when he’d walked in. “That’s one of the kidnappers that I helped you draw,” he said as he pointed at the drawing on her desk. He could recognize that ugly face anywhere.

  “Oh, yes!” Jenny exclaimed. “We have him… here… locked up!” She did a little shuffle. “It’s gotta be him! I just know it! He’s almost a perfect match for the drawing.” Her eyes were bright and filled with life as she pointed at herself and proclaimed, “I am good.”

  She suddenly froze in the middle of her self-praise, looking at Jason. “Oh, oh,” she danced, “I have an idea. You should take a look at him while you’re here!”

  “I’m supposed to pick him out of a line up at one,” Jason explained before looking up at a clock on the wall. “Better get headed that way,” he added.

  “Okay… bye!” Jenny waved energetically.

  As Jason turned towards the door, he spotted the sheriff and deputy walking by. “Sheriff Victor,” he called out.

  “Jason,” the sheriff greeted kindly enough. “Glad you’re here. Follow me.”

  Sheriff Victor led the way down the hall, turning into the room where they’d stood and looked in on the drunk, whom Jason now knew as Donald, through the glass. Today the other room was pitch-black. Deputy Andrews followed them in, closing the door behind him. Sheriff Victor gave a nod and the deputy flipped a switch, turning a light on in the interrogation room. As Jason looked through the glass, his heart leapt.

  “Any of them look familiar?” the sheriff asked as he cast a glance at Jason.

  Memories from that night flooded Jason’s mind. He stood silent.

  “Jason?” Sheriff Victor’s voice unfroze him.

  “Um, third one from the right,” Jason said as he gazed through the glass at the predator. With the ugly face and bent nose, there was no mistake.

  “Has he given you any information?” Jason asked hopefully. “Does he know where my wife is?” There was a pleading sound to his voice.

  The sheriff opened the door and motioned with his head for Andrews to go out. The moment the deputy left, he shut the door, leaving only him and Jason alone in the room. The hair stood up on the back of Jason’s neck.

  “No, he hasn’t,” Victor replied in a cold voice, “hasn’t told us where your wife is – hasn’t told us anything about the case… As a matter of fact, he has an air tight alibi. He wasn’t anywhere close to the park on the night of the kidnapping. Wasn’t even in town.”

  “What?” Jason asked, bewildered. “That’s not possible. I saw him – no mistake.”

  “You calling me a liar?” the sheriff asked flatly as he turned away from Jason and gazed through the glass at the row of men.

  “What is this air tight alibi of his?” Jason demanded.

  Victor ignored his question. “Where were you on the night of the kidnapping?” he asked in a professional sounding voice.

  “What? Are you serious?” Jason asked in bewilderment. “I was at the kidnapping,” he stressed, “watching my wife be kidnapped… by the kidnappers – You know, the ones who kidnapped her.” He paused for a moment then asked, “What part of this do you not understand?”

  “That places you at the scene of the crime,” Sheriff Victor said thoughtfully. Then in a slow, quiet, and emotionless voice he began speaking, “You have the right to remain silent.”

  “Are you serious?” Jason questioned loudly, unable to believe his ears.

  “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law,” the sheriff said then went on reading Jason his rights, but the words quit registering. Getting locked up was going to change everything.

  “Place all your personal belongings on the table,” the sheriff instructed.

  Jason quietly obeyed. He didn’t want to have resisting arrest added to his charges… whatever the original charges were.

  “Now put your hands on your head,” Sheriff Victor ordered flatly. Jason obeyed. Then the sheriff motioned to the door. “Let’s go,” he instructed.

  Leading the way to the next door down, where the men from the lineup had already filed out, the sheriff waved his prisoner inside. Once across the threshold, Jason stopped and glanced around the room. So this was the other side of the glass. Victor had promised if he ever got Jason into this room, his sentence would be eternal incarceration.

  “Let me know when you’re ready to tell the truth,” Victor growled as he began closing the door shut on Jason.

  “I’m ready,” Jason spoke flatly as he lowered his arms and made his way over to the side of the table that made him face the mirrored glass. Figured that would be his side.

  Victor opened the door back up, walked in and sat down across from his prisoner, cocking an eyebrow, obviously a bit suspicious that it had been this easy.

  “You want the truth?” Jason asked with an edge to his tone. “I’ll give you the truth. The trut
h is that I watched men drag my wife away one night not so very long ago. The truth is that the only way I can save her is by doing something that will likely get me killed. The truth is that yesterday I walked and ran close to fifty miles training to save her and possibly come out alive.” A tear ran down Jason’s cheek and his voice shook as he concluded by saying, “And the truth is… if you screw this thing up… if you make it where I can’t save her, you will answer to me.”

  “In this life or the next?” the sheriff mocked, but the uneasiness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed.

  “This life,” Jason answered without missing a beat. “I don’t know much about the next.”

  Jason leaned back in his chair and locked eyes with the sheriff. Finally, Victor looked away and stood up. “Looks like you need to think on your attitude for a while,” he commented before walking out the door, closing it behind him.

  With nothing else to do, Jason sat and stared at his reflection in the mirrored glass. He almost didn’t recognize himself. Two weeks ago, if he’d met the guy looking back at him now, he probably would have gone to great lengths to avoid him. The work, worry, and sleepless nights were beginning to take their toll. His cheeks were more drawn and haggard than before. The effects of being pushed to the limits shone back from his tired eyes. Plus he hadn’t shaved since the whole thing started. He wasn’t Big Foot hairy but, still, it was the longest he’d ever gone without shaving.

  Jason rubbed his eyes. Fatigue was setting in. The stress of yesterday, now this – it was all getting to be very tiring. If he could just get a few minutes of sleep then he would focus on his predicament. He rose to his feet then stretched out on top of the interrogation table. Soon the cruel and unfair world faded away as he drifted off to sleep.

  - - - - - -

  Cold and dark surrounded him. Cruel and unyielding steal lay beneath him. Where was he? What had happened? Slowly, bit by bit, the earlier part of the day began creeping back into Jason’s mind. Misty’s necklace. Identification of one of the kidnappers… Got arrested? – Yep. Finally, his mind made the day’s complete circuit, bringing him to where he was… on top of a metal interrogation table. How long had he been asleep? And why was it so dark… and freezing?

  Then it dawned on Jason. That sheriff had a lot of nerve. He must have shut the lights off and turned the A/C down all the way. That was border line torture. What if Jason had gotten sick or woke up enveloped by the total darkness and cold, causing him to go into shock. Then the police department would be personally liable… Light bulb – Jason had a brilliant plan.

  “Noooo!” he screamed, flailing and rolling off of the table. He landed on a chair, knocking it over, grabbed it and flung it into the wall. Stumbling, he crashed to the floor, rolled under the table and leapt up with all of his might, sending it flying across the room. Running footsteps approached. Jason fell limply to the ground. The door was flung open, letting light and warmth spill in from the hallway.

  “Oh my goodness!” a concerned voice exclaimed. “Are you okay?” A uniformed officer knelt by Jason’s side. It was Deputy Andrews. “Talk to me. Move. Breathe. Do something!” Andrews exclaimed, nearing panic. “Sheriff,” he yelped. “Sheriff Victor! Hurry!”

  Jason let out a moan and gasped for air as his eyes bulged.

  “Hurry Sheriff!” Andrews screamed. “I think he’s dying!”

  “Move it Andrews – move!” The sheriff’s abrupt shout sent his deputy scrambling to get out of the way. “What have you done to yourself?” he asked in an astounded voice as he quickly surveyed the room before focusing his attention on Jason.

  “Come on, man,” Victor encouraged as he knelt down by Jason’s side. “Stay with me now.” He let out a distressed sigh then muttered under his breath, “This is just what I need. Election time. Could get run out of office over this.”

  Well, at least Jason knew where the sheriff based his concern. It certainly wasn’t in Jason’s wellbeing. “It’s sooo cold,” Jason said in a raspy whisper as he thrust a shaky hand heavenward. “And so dark,” he added before letting his hand fall limp by his side.

  “Come on man, please!” Victor begged. “Work with me man. If we can get you out into the hall, it’ll be warmer.” He paused for a moment. “The light is shining out there, too,” he added like he was talking to a child who didn’t want to come out and play.

  Renewed by the sheriff’s desperation, Jason went rigid. “No!” he shrieked like a mountain lion that had gotten its tail caught beneath a rock then began acting like he was trying to get up. “We cannot go towards the light!” he added desperately. “Momma said if you think you might be dying, don’t you ever, ever, EVER!” he exclaimed then began fumbling for the sheriff’s hand, grasped it, gave it a squeeze then concluded in a raspy whisper, “never go towards the light!” With that, his hand slipped from the sheriff’s; he went completely limp and quit breathing as it dropped to the floor.

  Victor’s eyes grew big. He had only wanted to get the truth – not kill his main suspect. “Come on. Stay with me, man,” the sheriff pleaded. “I’m sorry. Just hold on. Hold on. Jenny’s on the way; she’s trained in first aid.” Jason was impressed. What could that woman not do? “Hang on a little longer, and she’ll be here!” The image of that energetic woman trying to pump the breath of life back into him almost ruined Jason’s act. Fits of laughter threatened to burst free, but he somehow managed to maintain his limp composure.

  “Where’s Jenny?” Sheriff Victor hollered over his shoulder.

  “I don’t know,” Andrews answered in a desperate voice.

  Sheriff Victor sighed and hung his head. Finally, a decision shown in his eyes. “Awe, screw it,” he huffed as he grabbed Jason’s nose and tilted his head back.

  Was he gonna? Yes – yes he was! The sheriff was lowering his open mouth down towards Jason’s. Time to quit acting! “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jason shouted. Victor’s mouth froze inches away from his.

  “Were you going to kiss me?” Jason asked in disbelief. “You were going to kiss me!” he shouted, like some dirty truth had just been revealed. “You know that only works in fairytales, right? And only with his one true love.” Jason paused for a moment. “I’m not your one true love… am I?” he asked sounding hopeful.

  Sheriff Victor was frozen from shock. He wouldn’t have appeared more stunned if he’d just witnessed a herd of monkeys riding motorcycles down the hall. Seeing the expression on the sheriff’s face and knowing that this mission was very accomplished, Jason busted into fits of hysteric laughter. In the middle of which, he gasped, “Since we can’t go towards the light why don’t you go ahead and turn the one on in here?” Victor still hadn’t found his voice, so Jason took advantage of it by adding more mockery. “And as far as me being soooo cold turn the A/C off.”

  Jason was still rolling on the floor when the sheriff caught up to speed. Needless to say, he didn’t find the joke nearly as funny as his prisoner did.

  “You little… get up from there!” Sheriff Victor ordered as he grabbed Jason’s shirt and yanked him up. “I ought’a…”

  “Sheriff Victor?” a stunned voice interrupted.

  The sheriff released his prisoner like he had just been informed that he had the plague. Jason stood beside him, still grinning.

  “Oh, hi Jenny,” Victor said in a startled voice. “Just helping a prisoner up.”

  “Prisoner?” she asked, confused. “Jason?”

  “Yes, Jason,” the sheriff replied flatly.

  “But what’d he do?” Jenny questioned.

  “Now Jenny,” the sheriff spoke down to her, “we both know that multitalented though you are, you can’t be involved in everything.” With that, he marched Jason right past her, out the door and down the hall.

  Jason shook free of the sheriff’s grip and walked along by his side. As they rounded a corner, they came face to face with a pretty, young woman. “Sheriff,” she exclaimed with a bright and toothy smile. “I have something for you to sign,” she added without
taking her big eyes off of him. Was he going to strut? Seriously, the sheriff looked like he was going to strut like a rooster.

  “Are you saying you want my autograph, Miss Adean?” he asked in a flirting tone. She giggled as she began to hand over the clipboard. “You know, out of all my adoring fans, I think I sign my name for you more than…” the sheriff stopped abruptly as Jason snatched the clipboard before it reached his hands.

  Knowing he would only have a few seconds of stunned silence, Jason quickly scanned the page, handed the clipboard to the sheriff and said, “Everything appears to be in order, sir.”

  “Wh-what?” the sheriff sputtered in surprise as he tried to form a question.

  “I’m sorry,” a professional sounding Jason said, directing his attention to the young woman. “The sheriff is a busy man. He didn’t introduce us.” He paused for a moment then asked, “You’re his old assistant, I assume?”

  “Old assis… what?” she asked, turning her attention to a very flustered sheriff.

  “You’re not my assist… I mean old assistant!” the confused sheriff exclaimed to the lady.

  “I’m his new assistant,” Jason explained to the now disturbed young woman.

  She turned back to the sheriff with a look of betrayal in her eyes.

  “He’s not my…” Sheriff Victor tried to explain, but Jason slapped him on the shoulder.

  “Gotta go check on the prisoners,” he shouted excitedly as he took off running down the hall. “I have a feeling they’re about to start rioting!”

  “Wait,” Jason heard Victor order before he turned and began trying to explain things to the lady. “I didn’t – He’s not – You’re, um…” then Jason turned a corner and was out of earshot. The sheriff wanted to make trouble for Jason then Jason would make trouble for the sheriff.

  Grabbing a metal mop bucket from a corner, Jason dumped the soapy water out on the floor and began running down the hall banging the bucket on the bars on the cell windows and yelling, “Everybody up! We’re busting out! We are busting out! Get up! Get up!”