The Killing Pit

by Wes Markin

  “Their mother?”

  “Different mothers. Ex sex workers. Kayla’s mother died a few years back. Ayden’s mother lives in Sharon’s Edge. You sure you want the most interesting part of Jotham’s tale?”

  “Of course.”

  “It’s horrible.”

  “To be expected.”

  “He had three children before Kayla and Ayden … triplets―”

  “You two really are chewing the fat!” Jotham called. He’d not taken his eyes from them yet. “Must be an interesting place where you come from, Mr. Bickford.”

  “Pettman,” Jake called back. He wasn’t surprised. How could news not travel fast in a town with a population of three thousand?

  Jotham cupped his ear. “Sorry? I didn’t catch that.”

  “Pettman. My name is Jake Pettman.”

  Jotham held up the palm of his hand. “Sorry! Seems I’ve been misinformed. Please carry on with your picnic.”

  “Wanker,” Jake muttered.

  “Be safer to keep those opinions to yourself.”

  “Like everybody else in this town? Change must start somewhere. Anyway, you were saying, triplets?”

  “A while ago, when he was in his thirties, he married someone named Amber Colson. She was the daughter of the chief selectman at the time.”

  “Another shrewd move,” Jake said, recalling yesterday evening’s exploits with the current chief selectman’s son. “No wonder he’s found it easy to build his empire, with the town council on his side.”

  “Well … it hasn’t all been easy.”

  “Good,” Jake said, staring into Jotham’s smug eyes. “Enlighten me.”

  “He came home one day to find his three baby daughters dead. Amber had fed them disinfectant.”

  Jake felt his eyes twitching, but he kept them on Jotham’s.

  “Postnatal depression.”

  “Jesus,” Jake said, watching Jotham take another mouthful of beer.

  “The story is that he stood by her, tried to help her, but one night, she locked herself in an old barn and burnt it down.”

  Jotham smiled.

  “Awful way to die,” Jake said.

  “She blew her head off with a shotgun before the flames got to her.”

  Jake flinched.

  Jotham stood and walked to the edge of the pedestal. “Been good catching up!” He crushed his can and threw it.

  Jake followed its descent into the lake. Ripples spread far and wide. The can bobbed up and down—a pollutant that didn’t sink. He looked back up to see Jotham walking to his ladder. An angry, bitter man who has lost everything but wants to keep on taking.

  Jotham descended the ladder. Just before his head disappeared, Jake gritted his teeth.

  I don’t care how powerful and how dangerous you are, if you’ve hurt Maddie Thompson, I’ll kill you.

  When Piper visited his motel room early evening, Jake didn’t want her to realize that he felt betrayed that she hadn’t told him about Jotham MacLeoid and his hold over the town. However, as was always the case when he was with the opposite sex, he struggled to hide his true feelings.

  “What’re you pissed about?”

  After he told her, she sat on the edge of his bed. “I’m sorry.”

  “If you need my help, you must tell me everything.”

  “I know, but I cannot help feeling ashamed of Blue Falls. I’d quite like you to stick around, and telling you my town is a cesspit wouldn’t be the most convincing approach.”

  Jake sighed and sat beside her. “It does have some things going for it. Stinson Lake was nice. The walk to it reminded me of home.”

  “Until you get to the lake and actually see that wall.”

  “Yep. That was quite an eyesore.”

  “Who was the cop who took you to Stinson Lake?”

  Jake smiled. “Now, you want me to be open and be transparent?”

  Piper looked down. “Fair enough.”

  Jake told her about Lillian Sanborn and their afternoon together.

  “She’s nice, Lillian,” Piper said, still looking down. “I’m glad she wants to help.”

  “Yes, she’s definitely one of the nicest people I’ve met in town.”

  Piper regarded Jake with a sad expression.

  “I did say one of.”

  Piper smiled. “I’m sorry for holding back.”

  They seemed to be moving closer. Jake hadn’t adjusted his position on the edge or noticed Piper shuffling, so he guessed their faces were edging toward one another’s.

  His cell rang. Jake reached behind himself to grab it up from his bed. “I hope this is Jewell. I’ve been leaving messages for him every five minutes for the last two hours.” He answered, “Jake Pettman.”

  “It’s Gabriel Jewell.”

  “You’re a busy man.”

  “Well, I am the chief of police.”

  Yeah right! Chief of police in a small town where the only thing happening right now is something you’ve no inclination to investigate!

  “I’ve contacted the relatives,” Gabriel said. “Maddie’s fine and dandy. In fact, they’re enrolling her in a school on Monday. They are keen to stay law abiding in this difficult situation.”

  “I see. Who did you speak to?”

  “Not really my place to share names with you, Mr. Pettman. In fact, it’s not really my place to share any of this with you. I just figured that with all the concern you’ve shown, you deserve something. So, there it is; she’s safe. Case closed.”

  “Why have the family fallen out?”

  “Look. Where you come from, it may be part of the deal to pry and pry until the relationship between you and the community rots to shit, but here, we try and maintain a certain degree of respect for one another.”

  Jesus, not your fucking ecosystem again!

  “But, if you really must know, and this is the final thing I’m saying on this matter, the argument was to do with the brothers. Bad news them two, if you ask me. Mother wanted her away from them. Clean break.”

  “Bad news? How?”

  “I’ve done as you asked. Now, do me a favor and consider what I said to you before you left the office. The cliché, remember? Think on it long and hard. Good evening, Mr. Pettman.” The phone went dead.

  Jake sighed.

  Piper patted his upper arm. “What?”

  “He claims to have contacted the relatives, and everything is fine. In other words, the police won’t do anything.”

  “Hate to say I told you so.”

  “Let’s find out if the idiot actually rang the relatives.” Jake phoned Lillian. He greeted her, thanked her for the day and the information then led straight into a request. “So, thank Marissa again for providing the phone number of her relatives in Vermont to the police then apologize and say you think the number was written down wrong.”

  “So, she either gives me the number or wonders what the hell we’re talking about and drops the chief in it for talking bullshit?”

  “Precisely,” Jake said.

  After the call, Piper put her hand on his knee. “Thank you so much for all this.”

  Jake eyed her. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “I know I don’t, but I am.”

  Jake shrugged. “Something’s wrong here. It’s never been in my nature to look the other way. It sounds noble, but it’s a curse. It’s taken me down some bad paths in my time.” And it killed my last marriage.

  She leaned over and kissed him.

  He allowed it to linger but didn’t press back.

  When she saw it was going nowhere, she pulled away. “Sorry. I thought …”

  “You didn’t think wrong.”

  “Doesn’t seem that way.”

  “I don’t expect any kind of repayment.”

  Her eyes widened. “Really? Is that what you think this is? Some kind of service―”

  “No … no.” Jake waved his palms at her. “Bad choice of words. I don’t mean that. I just don’t want to take advantage of som
eone who feels grateful to me. This help. It’s just part of who I am—probably a lingering hangover from the job I used to do. I like you, I do, but getting involved with me would be a mistake.”

  “You make it sound like I just proposed to you.”

  Jake’s cell rang. “Lillian?”

  “Okay. Get ready for this! It totally threw Marissa. She asked her sons which one had given out the number. They all denied it.”

  “Because it never happened,” Jake said.

  “I pressed her for it again. The husband, Blake, snatched the phone and said his sister-in-law’s phone was out of order and then hung up on me. Something really is going on here.”

  “Something involving your boss.”

  “Shit.”

  “Lillian, could you phone in sick tomorrow and meet me at the Blue Falls motel at eight a.m.?”

  “Shit … is this real policework, Jake?”

  “If you class fumbling around in the dark with no fucking idea what is going on, then yes, I guess it is.”

  “Sounds exciting. See you at eight.”

  He eyed Piper.

  She didn’t look convinced. “You really have got yourself a new sidekick, haven’t you?”

  “No, we’ve got ourselves a dose of good luck. She’s a police officer. How far do you think we’d get without one?”

  “Still, I’d rather I tagged along.”

  “I know, but after meeting Jotham and hearing all about the insidious monster, I’m not about to parade you around in the investigation.”

  She kicked off her shoes, hoisted up her legs and leaned in so her head was on his shoulder.

  He considered slipping his arm around her but hesitated and tilted his head toward hers instead. He almost sighed when he felt the contact but forced it back; he didn’t want to give her too many clues that he was enjoying it as much as she was.

  A mistake … a mistake … a mistake … The words ran through his head. Maybe she was turned on that he’d come to help, that he was like some knight in shining armor, but was that such a bad thing? He looked down as her hand moved over him.

  Her multi-colored nails slid down over his chest. “You’ve got a good body. Strong.” Her hand moved lower.

  Both were breathing faster now.

  She slipped her hands underneath his T-shirt and moved them over his stomach.

  A mistake … a mistake … a mistake … He couldn’t shake his warning, and it did little to stop him. If anything, it turned him on even more.

  She slipped away.

  He leaned into her, not wanting her to go.

  She raised a finger to still him then removed her own shirt, unhooked her bra, lifted his shirt and pressed her breasts against his skin. She nuzzled his chin, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, before kissing him.

  This time, he kissed back.

  A mistake … a mistake … a mistake…

  The kiss became firmer. Her hand fell below, and she began to touch.

  He grew hard quickly.

  She climbed on top of him, pushing him back, then leaned over him so she could kiss him again.

  A mistake … a mistake … a mistake … The words tortured him, but his hands couldn’t be stopped. He yanked at the belt on her jeans as she forcefully kissed him.

  She allowed him some air to unpin her hair and let it fall all over him.

  He popped the button on her jeans with one hand while, with the other, he massaged her breast.

  She leaned down and kissed him for the longest time.

  A mistake … a mistake … a mistake …

  A wise person once told Jake that you cannot learn without making mistakes. He turned her over onto the bed and slid down her jeans. Tonight, then, was all about education.

  7

  AFTER JOTHAM HAD spent the day working through the cooler of Stinson IPA, he paced Kayla’s room. The boy band posters which he’d torn down earlier lay crumpled on the floor. He kicked them around then thumbed the patches on the wall where his tearing had damaged the yellow paint. You will paint that, Ayden. You will paint this whole fucking room.

  He went to the full-sized mirror by her bed and stared at his reflection. He gripped each hanging white curtain of hair in a different hand, yanked them back over his ears and held them there. I see you, Daddy.

  He panned up and down the weathered face, lingering for a time on the beady eyes drowning in pulpy sacs. I see you, Boyd. He slammed his forehead into the mirror. Keeping his head against the glass, he waited for the burning sensation to spread a dull ache over his nose and cheeks. He pulled his head away, smiling.

  A spider’s web had spread across the glass.

  He felt blood running down the bridge of his nose.

  I―

  He thrust forward and heard the glass splinter some more.

  See―

  He drove in, keeping his eyes open so when he drew back he could see the wound splitting on his forehead.

  You.

  Blood filled his eyes. He stumbled backward, blind, ripped open his buttoned flannel shirt and removed it. He wiped the blood from his face and eyes and held it against his burning forehead to stem the flow. He approached the mirror again, his vision clearing. The spiderweb had grown in detail and glowed red, but he could still see himself. He traced his reflection, starting at his exposed stomach just above the buckle of his jeans and up his bloody chest—which, although not muscular, was slim and did not sag as was often the case in men his age. He touched his face, which was splintered by the heart of the cobweb.

  “I lost her, Daddy―”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  “Don’t you look at me, Boyd―”

  He slammed the palm of his hand into the mirror, splintering it further.

  “Don’t you fucking look at me!”

  He thrust his palm into the glass. It was useless. The mean old bastard stared back.

  He turned from the reflection and leaned his naked back into the glass. He took a deep breath and, with his shirt still pressed to his leaky forehead, slid into a squat, the ruptured glass biting into his upper back. He pushed himself back into a standing position and felt the glass chew on him.

  He screamed in agony.

  I’m going to rub you out, Daddy.

  He went down the glass again and listened to his back rip.

  Half-naked and cold, still gripping his shirt against his forehead, Jotham opened the cage door and crawled in with Bo.

  The other dogs barked, jealous of the attention she was being shown and not knowing it was actually Jotham seeking out the attention on this occasion.

  Jotham curled up on his side next to his dog and closed his eyes.

  Bo excitedly padded around her owner, nuzzling his neck, but once she sensed he wasn’t here to play, she hunkered next to him and swept her long tongue up and down his torn back.

  At first, it stung, but Jotham no longer possessed the energy to move, and so allowed it. Eventually, it started to soothe. Jotham eventually found sleep, smiling over that final moment before, in Kayla’s room, when he’d turned back to look at his daddy’s face again but could see only the blood obscuring the reflection.

  Sleeping beauty.

  Kayla lay on her back with her long black hair fanned out on her pillow. She wore one of his T-shirts, which was far too large for her, but, as her chest rose and fell, her small but developing breasts pushed against the loose material.

  One kiss to wake her.

  Gabriel edged into the room, both excited and fearful of what he’d allowed into his house.

  This was Jotham MacLeoid’s daughter. If the old bastard knew she was here, he’d organize a lynching the likes of which hadn’t been seen for generations. He stood over the bed. The duvet was over her waist. It was a simple matter to lift it and fold it away from her body without disturbing her. He sighed when he saw her shorts tight against her narrow hips but loose against the thighs of her slim legs. He reached down …

  Today, on his land, Gabriel’s hatre
d for Jotham had intensified. To rise to the lofty heights of police chief only to bow down to an insidious drug dealer who corrupted the soul of the town he loved was a grueling weight to bare.

  His fingers were an inch from the sleeping girl’s thigh …

  So easy to corrupt the daughter of the tumorous Jotham. And so exciting. He chewed his bottom lip and took deep breaths. His hand trembled.

  He closed his hand and stepped away.

  Downstairs, in front of his laptop, Gabriel struggled to find satisfaction. He hopped from video to video. He’d watched most before, many times, and with great pleasure; yet, tonight, none of them would help him sustain an erection.

  Knowing where this journey may take him, he dug in, determined to fight it. No matter how far his demons tried to drag him down, there was one level he must avoid at all costs. He tried to look into his sister’s eyes for support, forgetting, of course, he’d already turned down her photograph, and there was no friendly gaze for him to meet.

  He tried one last video, but his erection then his willpower both ebbed away, and he found himself opening the video he’d been so desperate to avoid.

  And then he was staring into the abyss.

  A twelve-year-old girl begged a man in a mask to allow her to go home to her parents and her baby brother Samuel. The man shook his head and told her that if she ever wanted to see them again, she would need to undress. She removed her school uniform.

  Gabriel cried as he masturbated.

  While Piper slept, Jake stared at the ceiling. He battled with insomnia most evenings anyway. But tonight, with the Thompsons lying about their missing daughter while the shadow of the infamous Jotham MacLeoid grew ever larger, he really was on the losing side. He leaned over and kissed the large birthmark on Piper’s collarbone and turned to sit on the edge of the bed.

  As he often did when wakefulness had the upper hand, he took the photographs of his son from the drawer. The first couple of weeks he’d been traveling around New England, they’d reduce him to tears, but he was getting more resilient now. The pain was hardening him.

  The latest photograph showed Frank wearing a Southampton football shirt and celebrating a goal he’d just scored in an inflatable football net in his garden. Jake smiled. He’d allowed Frank’s shot to slip between his legs, and once he was celebrating wildly, none-the-wiser to his father’s assistance, Jake had quickly snapped a photo on his phone.