The Lee Callaway Boxed Set

by Thomas Fincham

  “Okay,” he said, and he kept staring at the screen.

  She hesitated, but she wanted to know. “Who did they catch? Does your friend know?”

  “Some private investigator… his name is… Jimmy Keith.”

  Her knees suddenly buckled. She grabbed Daniel’s arm for support.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  After she got her bearings, she said, “I’m fine. I just feel a little lightheaded. I have to go.”

  She hurried ahead.

  “Hey, wait, I can walk you home,” he said.

  “I’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later.”

  She didn’t wait for his response. She was already running toward her house.

  SEVENTY-FIVE

  Callaway was at a bar, drowning his sorrows in a glass of scotch. He was in tears as he took one sip after another.

  He was devastated. He could not believe what was happening. Jimmy was not just a mentor to him, he was more like a father.

  Callaway came from a long line of law enforcement officers. His grandfather and uncle were state troopers. His father was a prison warden, while his older brother was a captain for a local county police department.

  Callaway continued the family tradition, but he soon realized he was not cut out for it. To the dismay of his brother, he quit, but it was only after his father had passed away. He couldn’t bear to see disappointment in his old man’s eyes. Once he was gone, Callaway was free to do whatever he wanted with his life.

  The only problem was that he didn’t know what to do with himself. He was lost when he walked away from the sheriff’s department. This was also around the time he left his wife and infant daughter.

  He never regretted leaving the sheriff’s department, but what he did to his family at a time when they needed him most was unforgivable.

  Jimmy is not the only selfish prick around here, Callaway thought. I am just like him.

  Maybe that’s why Callaway was drawn to a man like Jimmy Keith. Jimmy epitomized a life of self-indulgence, danger, and recklessness. Jimmy lived for the day, and he lived for himself. He did care about what happened to those around him, just as long as it did not interfere with his life of fun and excitement.

  It now dawned on Callaway that Jimmy lived a life bereft of responsibility. Jimmy disappeared if things got too personal, which explained why he didn’t return Callaway’s calls these past few years.

  Callaway wanted to work with Jimmy forever. He had even suggested they open up their own agency together. Jimmy was not too keen on the idea. He liked working alone. He also thought it was better for Callaway to strike out on his own. Callaway figured Jimmy was teaching him to be more independent. What he did not realize was that Jimmy was pushing him away.

  For a man who ran away from his problems, why did he confess now? Maybe murder was something he could not just walk away from.

  Jimmy had a lot of faults, but the man also had a lot of good in him. Callaway had seen it with his own eyes, or else he would have left Jimmy a long time ago. Jimmy was kind to the less fortunate. If he had a dollar in his pocket and someone was begging on the street, Jimmy would give him that dollar. Callaway would ask him why he would do that when it was his last penny, and Jimmy’s response would be, “The guy needs it more than me.”

  Jimmy also took on cases where he knew the money did not compensate the amount of work required to complete the job. If there was a wrong that needed to be righted, Jimmy would go out of his way to make it happen.

  Perhaps Jimmy knew he was wrong to hide Scott’s murder, and he saw no other option except to come clean. How else could one explain what he did? Fisher had nothing that linked him to Scott’s death. There was even the possibility she might have never solved the case.

  Callaway shook his head and downed the remainder of his scotch. He waved the bartender over.

  “You sure you should be drinking this early in the day?” the bartender asked.

  Callaway dropped another large bill on the counter. “Keep bringing them, okay?”

  “Sure,” the bartender said, and he returned with another glass.

  Tears streamed down Callaway’s face as he took another long gulp. The scotch burned the back of his throat, and he winced. If he had to go through the five hundred dollars the Hendersons had given him, he would. The alcohol helped numb the pain.

  His mind was swirling with all sorts of emotions. One second he would be angry, the next he was sad, and then it would quickly turn to regret. Emotions were coming at him full-force.

  Someone entered the bar. He felt a shadow behind him. He turned and saw it was his ex-wife, Patti.

  “Lee,” she said. “I just saw the news about Jimmy.”

  There was genuine concern in her eyes. His lips quivered, and then he broke down crying.

  Patti came over and hugged him.

  Callaway let her. He didn’t want to be alone.

  SEVENTY-SIX

  Rain pelted the windshield in a rhythmic motion. The rain had started light, then it turned hard in a matter of minutes.

  Inclement weather was not forecast when Fisher decided to drive twenty miles to a location outside the city.

  She was parked at the edge of a cliff. A sign on the way over warned drivers to be careful. The cliff itself was not steep, but the turn was sharp. There were reports of cars skidding off the cliff.

  Fisher was familiar with the location because she had been here once before, on the night of her high school prom.

  Barry Kessel was the football team’s star defenseman. He was built like an ox. When he asked her to be his date, her friends told her not to accept. Barry was not the most handsome man. He looked more like a Neanderthal. He even had a bushy unibrow.

  Fisher felt sorry for him, so she agreed. But there was another reason why. The boy she had a crush on had asked another girl to be his prom date. Fisher was heartbroken. She even considered not going to the prom.

  The night was awkward. They hardly spoke, and the one dance they had together made them the center of attention for all the wrong reasons. She looked like a princess, and he looked like an ogre.

  Afterwards, she couldn’t wait to go home, but then he asked her to go on a drive with him. She hesitated, but when she saw the eagerness in his eyes, she agreed.

  The moment they arrived at the spot on the cliff, she immediately regretted her decision. If he chose to have his way with her and then dump her body over the cliff, she would be helpless to stop him. She only wished the students at the prom remembered her leaving with him. They could identify him as her killer.

  To her surprise, unlike the other boys in her class, who were prepared to make a move on their dates, he was a complete gentleman. He had brought her to this spot because it overlooked Milton. He had been here countless times. He would sit and think about his future as he looked at the city.

  They talked for hours. She found that behind the rough exterior, he was a kind soul. He disliked football, but he only played it because it stopped other kids from making fun of him. He was thoughtful, intellectual, and he had a wry sense of humor. At the end of the night, she even gave him a kiss. That made him feel special.

  The last she heard of Barry Kessel, he was a professor at Columbia, and he was married with three children. Fisher knew if he could make her feel special for one night, he must make his family feel special every day.

  The rain slowed when she got out of the SUV. She went over to the edge of the cliff and peered down.

  I should call for backup, she thought. I shouldn’t be doing this alone.

  The dirt on the side of the cliff had turned into mud. Scaling down could result in her slipping and falling hundreds of feet to her death.

  She could always come back on a nicer day, but she didn’t want to waste time. She had seventy-two hours to complete her investigation, and she had to confirm or deny that something vital lay at the bottom of the cliff.

  She went back to the SUV, removed a nylon rope from the trunk, and ti
ed one end to the SUV. She tied the other around her waist.

  She slowly and carefully began to scale down the side of the cliff. Her feet dug into the dirt and mud, causing her legs to work extra hard. Her thighs burned, but she made it to the landing twenty feet below. She pulled out a flashlight and shined the light around.

  She spotted what she had come to find. The white kitchen towel had turned dull and brown.

  She reached over and grabbed the towel, pulling it closer until she was holding it. She unwrapped the towel and found an ivory bookend shaped like a Roman column.

  The bookend had been cleaned of fingerprints, but that didn’t matter. The bookend was an obvious match for the other found at the scene of the crime.

  Fisher had found the bookend exactly where Jimmy had told her it would be.

  Jimmy was telling the truth.

  He had murdered Dillon Scott.

  SEVENTY-SEVEN

  Becky entered the house. She spotted her mom in the living room. Becky had forgotten her mom started work late that day.

  “I didn’t know you were coming home for lunch,” her mom said with a smile.

  Without replying, Becky raced up the stairs and went straight to her room. She shut the door and fell on the bed. She covered her face with a pillow and began to sob uncontrollably.

  It was not supposed to be like this. He had assured her everything would be okay. He told her he would take care of things, so how did this happen?

  A part of her wanted to scream at the top of her lungs, telling the world the truth as she did, but she could not. Her mom had been through so much already. She didn’t deserve to be in the middle of her daughter’s mess.

  She pushed the pillow aside. She couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had gripped her throat and was squeezing tight. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

  She sat upright. Her chest tightened as if she was deep underwater and the pressure was crushing her like a can. The walls were caving in on her. She wanted to get out, but where could she go? Who could she turn to now?

  He made her promise him she would let him handle the matter. She would not get involved. She had kept her end of the bargain, but how could she keep her mouth shut now? She couldn’t hide the truth forever. It was bound to come out.

  What if it doesn’t? she thought. What if no one ever knows that I was responsible for what happened?

  She hugged herself and began to cry again. She was scared, even more so than the time she heard her dad was gone. She feared for the future without him. He was the foundation that kept her and her mom steady.

  Somehow they had managed to get through the year. Her mom grieved in silence, but Becky had a shoulder to cry on.

  Now even that was gone.

  There was a knock at the door. “Honey, are you okay?”

  Becky wiped her eyes. “I’m… I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Mom… I just need…”

  “Becky, please…”

  She hesitated for a moment, but she relented. “Okay, Mom.”

  Her mom entered. The moment she saw her, she said, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  Becky covered her face with a pillow. She could not face her mom. Not like this.

  Her mom came over and sat next to her. “You can talk to me, you know that, right?”

  “I know, but I can’t.”

  Her mom waited a moment before she asked, “Do you want me to cook you something special?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Okay, so you’re not hungry, and you don’t want to talk. I’m certain you’re upset about a boy? Is it Daniel Bailey?”

  Becky pushed the pillow aside and asked, “How do you know about Daniel?”

  “I’ve heard you mention his name on the phone.”

  Becky scowled. “Have you been eavesdropping on my conversations?”

  Her mom smiled. “When you and Ester talk on the phone, you don’t realize there are other people in the house. These walls are made of drywall, not concrete.”

  Becky placed the pillow back over her head. “This is not about Daniel.”

  “Then what is it about?”

  “Please leave me alone, Mom.”

  Silence hung between them.

  Her mom sighed. “After your dad died, the only thing I wanted to do was stay inside my room and cry. I did that for many days. I’m sure you heard me.”

  Becky did, but she never told her.

  “Your father was not only my husband, he was also my best friend. I couldn’t see myself going forward alone. I thought about swallowing a bottle of pills to end my misery.”

  Becky whipped the pillow off her face and looked at her mom. “You did?” she asked, shocked.

  Her mom nodded. “But then I thought of you. With both of us gone, who would take care of you? Your father never chose to end his life, and I couldn’t choose to end mine either. I flushed the pills down the toilet.”

  “I didn’t know this, Mom.”

  “And I never wanted you to know it, either.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me? I’m your daughter.”

  “That’s right, baby. You and I are the only family we have left. If you don’t talk to me now, I will never know what you’re going through. Like you never knew what I was going through.”

  Becky stared at her mom. She knew her mom would never judge her.

  Tears brimmed in Becky’s eyes.

  “Mom, I did something very bad, and I don’t know what to do.”

  SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Callaway sat on the sofa. His shoulders were slumped, and his face was a mask of agony. Patricia “Patti” Callaway sat across from him with a cup in her hand. She had dark hair that used to be short but was now shoulder-length. Her brown eyes could spot a lie a mile away, which was why Callaway had stopped bullshitting her. He respected her too much to pull a fast one on her.

  She always had a smile on her face, even when things were going bad. Unlike Callaway, she had the internal strength to not let the world get to her. She managed to raise a child on her own when Callaway abruptly left her.

  Any other spouse would have been bitter, angry, and would have done everything to make his life miserable. Patti took the high road. She let him walk away without many repercussions. She knew he was unhappy, though not with the marriage—this was something he was adamant about—but with life in general. He wanted more out of his existence. Unfortunately, he was not mature enough to realize how much he mattered to his family.

  He did, however, leave everything behind: the house, the car, whatever savings he had in their joint bank account. Enough for her to start all over again.

  Callaway knew why she never retaliated for his cruel actions. Patti had grown up in a broken home. Her parents divorced when she was very young. She saw how one parent used their children against the other. She saw how the pettiness and vitriol impacted her and her siblings. She vowed she would not let that affect her little girl.

  Sabrina “Nina” Callaway was nine years old, and she was as smart and grounded as her mother. There were even times when Callaway would ask Nina for advice. He knew it should be the other way around, but he was such a screwup that Nina was sometimes the parent. Nina had her mother’s dark hair, but she also had his green eyes. She looked more like Patti than him, which was perfectly fine by Callaway. If he had a boy, he would have wanted his son to be more like his mother as well.

  Even after all these years, Callaway still found Patti attractive. He had imagined them getting back together and becoming a family again, but he wasn’t sure Patti would be up for it. Callaway never once cheated on her during their marriage, but he was so miserable while they were married that Patti was perhaps relieved to let him go.

  He doubted she would let him back in.

  She took a sip from her cup but said nothing. His empty cup was on the coffee table. After he had cried his eyes out, he asked for a glass of water. Patti then made him a fresh brew of coffee to help him sober up.


  “I’m sorry about Jimmy,” she said.

  He shrugged.

  “I didn’t know he was in town,” she then said.

  “He showed up unannounced.”

  “That’s typical of Jimmy.”

  After walking out on his marriage, Callaway landed at Jimmy’s doorstep. Patti could have blamed Jimmy for how things had turned out with her and Callaway. Callaway was going through an early midlife crisis, and he may have returned to his family once he saw what he was missing being a parent and a husband. But Jimmy exposed him to a life where he could do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. To say Jimmy corrupted Callaway would be a lie. Callaway was corruptible to begin with, and Jimmy only showed him the way. Patti also believed that if it wasn’t Jimmy, it would have been someone else who pulled Callaway away from her and Nina.

  If Callaway was in her place, he would have held a grudge, but not Patti. Another reason he kicked himself for letting this amazing woman get away.

  “When’s Nina coming home?” he asked.

  “I have to pick her up after school. Do you want to do it?” she asked. Whenever he was over, which was rare, he cherished the opportunity to spend time with her.

  He shook his head. “I don’t want her to see me like this,” he said.

  “She’ll understand,” Patti said.

  “I’m crying like a bubbling fool.”

  “What happened is devastating. Nina knows how much Jimmy meant to you.”

  He scowled. “He used me.” He told her what had happened. She had opened her arms and her home to him, even though he deserved nothing but a cold shoulder. He would not take her kindness for granted, and he would not shy away from the truth.

  “Even then, he is your friend,” she said when he was done.

  Friend… that stings, Callaway thought. “Friends are supposed to be honest with each other,” he said.