Killer Reunion

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Killer Reunion Page 10

by G. A. McKevett


  Then things went from bad to worse.

  “Driver and passenger,” Stafford shouted as he opened his door and stepped out of his unit. “Exit your vehicle. Slowly.”

  Savannah saw to her shock and horror that he had drawn his weapon and was pointing it at them.

  As he had directed, she and Dirk cautiously and calmly got out of their car.

  “Raise your hands,” he demanded.

  Savannah noticed that the other two deputies, who had also left their vehicles and were standing on either side of Stafford, had not drawn their weapons. She knew both of them and at one time had been their friends. Rather than meeting her eyes, they were staring down at ground in front of them and looking miserable.

  She and Dirk followed Stafford’s directions and raised their hands.

  But one quick sideways look at Dirk told her that he was furious. As was she. Never in her wildest fantasies had she ever imagined that this moment would come, that her childhood sweetheart would be holding her and her husband at gunpoint.

  “Oh, come on, Tommy,” she said, half joking, half pleading. “What’s going on here? What’s this all about?”

  “Shut up and get down on your knees. Both of you. Right now.”

  Savannah’s temper soared. She dropped her hands down to her sides and started walking toward him. “I most certainly will not get down on my knees. What the hell’s wrong with you, boy?”

  She heard Dirk call her name and registered the alarm in his voice. But she ignored him. Walking up to Stafford, she pushed his pistol aside and stood so close that her chest brushed his.

  “You oughta be ashamed of yourself, Tommy Lee Stafford,” she shouted up into his face. “How dare you draw a gun on me! Why, I should slap you upside the head for pullin’ a stunt like that!”

  To her surprise, and certainly to her relief, he reholstered his weapon. He even removed his sunglasses and stuck them in his shirt pocket.

  Now that she could see his eyes, she knew that her words had had their intended effect. He did look ashamed.

  She decided to press her point a bit further. “If you wanted to talk to me or my husband, you could’ve just walked over to our car and done so in a civil manner. You don’t have to treat us like armed and dangerous felons.”

  She realized she had gone a little too far when his face turned red again with anger.

  “For all I know, the two of you are felons,” he yelled back. “Cold-blooded murderers, armed and dangerous. What the hell are you two doing up here at my crime scene?”

  She shrugged and tried to look as innocent as a kindergartner with a candy-smeared face. “What crime? What scene?”

  “I think you know. I think you knew this morning, when I was talking to you both there at your grandma’s house. I think you were lying your asses off to me, and you both know how much we cops just love gettin’ lied to.”

  He pushed her an arm’s length away from him and gave her a head-to-toe scan that was much more thorough than that given by any airport security apparatus. She felt naked and exposed—and not in any sexual sort of way.

  It was far worse than that.

  Then he turned to Dirk, who had walked up to join them, and gave him the same once-over.

  “What’s that mud on the front of your shirt?” he asked Dirk.

  Dirk looked down and shrugged. “I don’t know. Dirt, I guess. There seems to be a lot of it around here. Along with pine trees. You should probably check me for pine needles, too.”

  “Don’t get smart with me, Coulter. You know what I mean.”

  Savannah tensed, expecting Dirk to flare up.

  But he didn’t. He gave Tom an even, calm look and said, “No, actually, I don’t know what you mean, Sheriff Stafford. Maybe you should explain why you ordered my wife and me out of our car at gunpoint and are making a big deal about the fact that I have some mud on my shirt. I don’t know about here in Georgia, but in California there’s nothing illegal about driving down the road or getting dirty.”

  Savannah took a step back from Tom and was trying to decide what to do next when they all heard the chugalugging of a large vehicle coming in their direction.

  A moment later, it rounded the curve in the road, and an enormous tow truck appeared, with her brother-in-law at the wheel. Butch pulled up behind the parked cop cars and sat, looking at the assemblage, a worried expression on his usually placid face.

  “All right,” Tom said, turning to his deputies. “We got our truck and work to do. Stick him in your car, Jesse. And, Martin, you put her in yours. Then let’s get to it.”

  Savannah’s heart sank. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the next few hours caged in the back of a hot patrol car, separated from Dirk.

  She reached over and poked Stafford in the ribs, what she hoped was a reasonably companionable gesture, but not overly familiar. “Come on, Tom. Seriously. We were just taking a little drive today. You know, checking out the local hot spots.”

  “Yeah,” Dirk interjected. “We’d already taken in all the museums and the ballet and opera, and this make-out spot was the last on our to-see-and-do list. How were we supposed to know that you boys were coming up here to . . . well . . . do whatever it is that you’ve gotta do?”

  When Tom didn’t answer right away, Savannah could see that he was thinking it over. Perhaps even leaning toward leniency. She hoped that his former affection toward her would win out over his cop’s instincts.

  Apparently, it did, because he said, “We got a tip that there’s a car, a purple car, in the water at the bottom of the cliff. A Cadillac convertible.”

  “Do you reckon it’s Jeanette?” Savannah asked.

  Tom gave her a derisive sniff and said, “Well, now, you tell me, gal. How many purple Cadillac convertibles you figure we got in the fine metropolis of McGill? In this whole dadgum county, for that matter? Of course it’s her car. Once we get it pulled to the top of the cliff, I reckon we’ll find out if she’s in it or not.” He looked back and forth between her and Dirk. “Unless the two of you wanna go ahead and tell me right now. I’ve got a feeling y’all have known since last night.”

  Savannah locked eyes with him and said with all sincerity, “Tom, I swear to you, neither one of us has any idea whether or not Jeanette’s in that car. I give you my solemn word on it.”

  A sense of relief swept over her as she uttered the words. It felt good to be able to tell the truth for a change.

  And Stafford seem to register her emotion, as well.

  “All right,” he said. “I won’t lock you up in the cages. But don’t you leave, either one of you. And you stay out of our way. You hear?”

  Savannah gave him the benefit of one of her dimpled smiles. She figured Dirk would be okay with it, under the circumstances. “We hear you, Sheriff,” she said. “Loud and clear. And if you need any help, we could always—”

  “I won’t. I done warned you. Stay out of my way, or by gum, you’ll wish you had.”

  Savannah sat on the hood of her rental car and thanked the heavens above that she wasn’t stuck in the back of a hot, stuffy cop car. Two hours had passed, and absolutely nothing had been accomplished.

  Dirk sat next to her, less patient, less grateful.

  “If this is the way law enforcement operates around here,” he grumbled, “I’m surprised the crime rate is as low as they claim. These stooges couldn’t catch a dog with one leg.”

  “Maybe not, but these stooges, as you call them, have still got badges and guns with bullets. I’d keep my voice down if I were you.”

  Sheriff Stafford and Butch were arguing, as they had been for hours, about the feasibility of pulling Jeanette’s convertible out of the lake and up the cliff.

  “Sheriff,” Butch was saying, “I know you want to get your hands on that car, but I’m telling you now, it ain’t gonna happen.”

  Tom Stafford was pacing back and forth at the edge of the pavement, his hands thrust deep into his trouser pockets and an ugly scowl on his face.


  Savannah knew the look. She knew the pacing. And she knew that this was Tom at his worst. She didn’t envy her calm, peace-loving brother-in-law.

  What Butch had been trying to explain to the sheriff for far too long would have made sense to anyone else. Anyone except a police officer who was determined to recover what might be the most important piece of evidence in a homicide investigation.

  She understood Butch’s misgivings about the recovery. But she totally related to Tom and his desire to have that car on dry ground.

  “This here cliff ain’t all that stable nohow,” Butch was telling him again. “And now that it’s been rained on and all softened up, there’s no way it’d support even the weight of this truck, let alone the strain from lifting that heavy car, too.”

  “Then stay back here on the pavement,” Tom argued.

  “I done told you, the cables ain’t nearly long enough to reach all the way across here to that cliff and then way down to the water.”

  “No, no, no. There has to be a way. We’ve got to get it up here,” Tom shot back. “If you don’t know how to do it proper like, then just say so.”

  Butch bristled, and Savannah saw he was clenching his fists.

  That’s not good, she told herself. Only one member of the family should be in trouble with the law at a time.

  She slid off the hood and walked over to stand beside Butch, who was saying, “It ain’t a matter of expertise, Sheriff. I know how to operate a tow truck and get most anything out of anywhere. But I’m telling you, unless you can work some miracle and get the National Guard or an army helicopter up here to lift it out or whatever, that car’s stayin’ put.”

  With his piece said, Butch spun around on his cowboy boot heel and, with stiffer posture than she had ever seen on him, marched over to the tow truck and drove away.

  Turning to Tom, she said, “I don’t want to butt in here. However, I was thinking that—”

  “Since when don’t you wanna butt in?” Tom shot back. “‘Butt in’ is your middle name, gal. Always has been.”

  “Hey, watch it, buddy,” Dirk said, walking up behind Savannah. “That’s my wife you’re talking to. Keep it respectful.”

  “Or what?” Tom demanded, seemingly eager to turn his anger and frustration elsewhere.

  “Or you’ll regret it,” Dirk replied, his tone more relaxed and less confrontational than his words.

  Savannah took a deep breath and plunged, once again, into the deep end. “As I was going to say, why don’t you send down a diver and see if there’s even a body inside the car? If there’s not, then maybe bringing the vehicle to the surface isn’t as much of a priority as you think.”

  Dirk considered her words and nodded. “She’s got a point there, Stafford. You’re all in a dither, thinking this is a homicide, and you don’t even know yet if she’s dead or not.”

  The sheriff continued to pace for a while longer. Then he said, “That’s easy for you to say. ‘Just send a diver down.’ This ain’t California. And we ain’t just got a diver or two lollin’ around on every street corner, at our beck and call.”

  “Then why don’t you send a couple of your deputies down?” Savannah suggested. “I don’t know how far below the surface it is, ’cause you won’t let us walk to the edge of the cliff and look. But from what you said, I gather it’s not down very deep. You might not even need scuba gear. Maybe a couple of you guys could just hold your breath and take the plunge.”

  Stafford perked up a bit and turned to his deputies. They both began to shake their heads as they took a couple of steps backward.

  “No, no, sir,” Jesse said. “I can’t swim worth nothin’.”

  “I sink like a tombstone,” added Martin. “You might as well just take me out on a boat, tie an anchor around my neck, and sink me.”

  Savannah listened and watched Tom’s dismayed reaction. She knew that he, too, wasn’t a particularly good swimmer. He was reluctant to venture outside of a private pool.

  Dirk, on the other hand, was far more graceful in the water than he would ever be on land.

  “Sounds like it’s you and me, Sheriff,” he said, peeling off his Harley-Davidson T-shirt and handing it to Savannah. “Let’s scramble down that cliff to the water and take ourselves a swim. Who knows what we’ll find?”

  Savannah knew it cost Dirk a lot to make that offer. He might be Aquaman in the water, but he was deathly afraid of two things: chickens and heights. Undoubtedly, he had to be terrified to “scramble” down that cliff for any reason. But she knew he was trying to ingratiate himself to Tom at any cost. For her sake.

  She made a silent vow to think of some kinky new bedroom activity to reward him.

  Early in their marriage she had discovered that positive reinforcement and all that good stuff worked on husbands, too. That was how she’d gotten him to be more careful about hitting the center of the toilet and not the surrounding landscapes.

  It was surprising what a man would do in exchange for some bedtime adventure.

  “How do I know you’re not just trying to get me down there so’s you can drown me?” Tom asked him, ever the suspicious cop.

  Dirk laughed and shook his head in disbelief. “In front of two of your deputies and my wife? Get real. If I was going to do you in, I’d probably just wait until a dark and stormy night and throw you off a cliff into a lake somewhere.”

  Nobody spoke.

  Nobody breathed.

  Finally, Dirk said, “I’m kidding. It’s a joke. And here I thought you Confederates had a sense of humor. Sheez Louise.” He reached over and slapped Sheriff Stafford soundly on his big, broad shoulder. “Let’s get down there, Sheriff, and see what we can find.”

  Once the course of action had been decided, it didn’t take long for Tom to remove his own shirt and for both men to climb down the cliff. At the bottom, they took off their shoes and socks, stuck them on an outcropping, and dove into the water.

  Tom had left instructions for the other two deputies to keep an eye on Savannah, but neither of them dared to stop her when she stepped to the edge and watched the activities below.

  She, too, could see the purple vehicle submerged in relatively shallow water only a few feet from the base of the cliff. But the area was in the shade and was dark, so she couldn’t make out any details of what lay below. Most importantly, she couldn’t tell if the car was inhabited or not. And she wasn’t altogether sure she even wanted to know.

  She could feel her heartbeat increasing by the moment as she watched Tom and Dirk take deep breaths and plunge beneath the surface over and over again. Each time the two men stuck their heads above the water, they spoke to each other, but Savannah couldn’t tell what they were saying.

  Finally, it was Tom who came up for air and shouted out to those standing above. “She’s here. Send down a body bag.”

  Jesse scurried away and returned a few moments later with a bag and some heavy ropes. He tossed down the bag, and Dirk, who had come up for air, caught it.

  Savannah felt as though she was living some strange, awful dream. The worst was true. Jeanette was in the car, after all. At least her mortal remains were.

  Savannah couldn’t believe it. Not even when she saw Tom and Dirk struggling to balance the body in the water and place it in the bag. The limp, sodden mass didn’t look like Jeanette, in spite of its purple dress. But then, dead bodies seldom looked like they had when inhabited by living beings.

  Savannah had come to accept that as a fact, though she had never come to terms with it emotionally. For her, death was and, she suspected, always would be the most perplexing of life’s mysteries.

  Once the body was inside the bag, and the zipper was securely closed, Jesse tossed down the ropes, and Tom and Dirk tied them tightly to both ends.

  “Okay, haul her up. Careful like,” Tom shouted to his deputies.

  They did, but even with Savannah helping, it wasn’t easy. Although Jeanette was a fairly petite woman, it was more difficult than Savannah had
anticipated to deliver the body to the top of the cliff in a gentle, respectful manner.

  But once the deed was accomplished and the bag was lying on the ground at the top of the cliff, Martin and Jesse busied themselves by loosening its ropes. When those bindings were free, the deputies tied the ends of the ropes around two trees and passed them back down to Tom and Dirk.

  Dirk and Tom put on their socks and shoes and, aided by the ropes, began the arduous climb back to the top.

  With the men all occupied, Savannah stood next to the bagged body and felt a strange moment of connection with the woman she had once known all too well.

  For some reason, she felt as though she should say something to her. But what? “I’m sorry you’re dead. I’m sorry you were such a jerk when you were alive.” Neither comment seemed adequate or appropriate, so Savannah let the moment pass in silence.

  It was all she could do not to reach down and unzip the bag. It wasn’t that she wanted to view the body up close. But she was almost frantic with curiosity, wanting to see if there was any clear cause of death.

  But with Dirk and Tom pulling themselves up and over the edge of the cliff, this wasn’t the time to be interfering with evidence.

  Dirk tossed the rope aside and walked toward her, drenched and covered with mud. In all the years they had worked together, she had seen him angry, worried, even traumatized. But she had never seen that particular type of fear in his eyes. He looked like he had just suffered some sort of horrid paranormal experience.

  She hurried to him and took his hand. “Hey there. Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I guess.” He wiped the water off his face with the back of his hand and shuddered. “Let’s just say I don’t wanna be a recovery diver when I grow up someday.”

  Tom nodded as he walked over to the bagged body. “No kidding, huh? That was downright creepy. It never occurred to me that dead folks look a lot deader in the water.” Kneeling beside the bag, Tom unzipped it halfway. Savannah found that she had a much clearer look at her old schoolmate than she wanted.

  Jeanette would not have been pleased with the way she looked in death. Her skin had a ghastly white, opaque appearance and was badly wrinkled. Her eyes were open. Her facial expression registered surprise and horror.

 

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