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Feeding Gators: Book 1 in the Shiner's Bayou Series

Page 28

by Gen Anne Griffin


  “What the hell does that make you?” Addison snarled, hoping to turn the tables on Perkins unwanted commentary.

  “Me?” Perkins laughed again. “The only thing I give a shit about is my pension,” he said. “I don’t give a damn about being a cop. I just want to finish out my twenty-five years, so I can pay off the mortgage on my fishing camp. I’m still a better investigator than either of you two are, though.”

  “Oh yeah?” Addison was beginning to turn red with anger; his fists were clenched by his side.

  “Yeah. I am, and I can prove it,” Perkins gloated.

  “Really?” Alex crossed his arms over his slender chest.

  “I’d love to hear this,” Addison said, eyeballing Perkins’ massive pot-belly.

  “Alright.” Perkins nodded smugly. “For starters, the only evidence you’ve got on this murder is a lousy eyewitness account. Eyewitness accounts have been proven 85 percent unreliable by a group of researchers up at Stanford a few years back, by the way.”

  “You didn’t investigate the crime scene and our county coroner is a squeamish funeral director who wouldn’t know evidence if it bit him in the ass. Y’all are running all over the fucking county, driving out gallons and gallons of tax-payer paid for fuel when everything y’all need to clear your buddy’s name is right here in the office.” Perkins jerked a thumb back towards David and Addison scowled.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Addison asked when it became clear Perkins wasn’t going to continue without prompting.

  “What evidence you got?” Perkins asked, nodding towards the case file Addison had been reading.

  “Eddie’s eyewitness account and a printout of every 1980’s model Toyota truck in the county,” Addison said warily.

  “Every 1980’s model Toyota.” Perkins was shaking his head with apparent wonder. “How the hell do you know there was a 1980’s model Toyota truck at the scene?”

  “Eddie saw it,” Alex supplied.

  “Right. Eddie saw it,” Perkins threw his hands up in the air and made a gesture of mock surrender as he plucked Eddie’s original report off of Addison’s desk. “Eddie wears some of the thickest glasses in town, but he saw and recognized an ‘80s model light eight truck on a moonless night from what, 500, 600 feet?” he scanned he said as he scanned the report for the exact distance. “I don’t know that I could tell a Toyota from a Nissan in the dark at that distance, how about y’all?”

  He waited on Addison and Alex to respond as they exchanged a dumbfounded expression. Addison cursed.

  “Hadn’t thought about that, had you, Cowboy?” Perkins asked smugly. “For that matter, it could have been an S-10 or a Dakota. All those trucks were small and boxy in the ‘80s and early ‘90s. Hell, if you want to go a step further, how do you know that truck came from Coastal County? Fella could have driven in from Baker or Marsden County to dump a body. Anyone think to check for small old pick-ups over there? I bet there are thousands, in between the three counties.”

  Alex opened his mouth to say something but Perkins held up one beefy hand. “Hold on, Momma’s boy. I ain’t finished yet.”

  Alex shut his mouth, furious but clearly interested. Perkins had a point.

  “For all that matter, boys, how do y’all even know there was a really a truck?”

  Addison’s eyes widened noticeably. “We’ve got a body,” he said flatly.

  “Sure you do. But you ain’t got a truck. Weren’t both of y’all out in Johnson’s pasture at around the same time Eddie decided to ruin his cruiser’s transmission in that swamp mud?”

  Addison and Alex both nodded.

  “Y’all see a truck?” Perkins asked, speaking slowly as if he were talking to a pair of exceptionally stupid children. They shook their heads.

  “Y’all have any proof there was a truck?” Perkins asked. “Y’all have tire tracks? Paint off the vehicle? Anything to prove there ever was a truck?”

  Addison was flat out gaping at Perkins. “You’re saying he made it up?”

  “I’m saying he damned well may have,” Perkins shrugged and continued to stuff his face. “You ain’t got no proof of nothing besides a dead body that’s already been cut up by a fella who got his mortician’s license from an ad at the back of a Small Town Business magazine. For all y’all know, Eddie’s your murderer. Y’all sure as hell don’t have any proof he ain’t.” Perkins shook the report in his hand. “The only evidence y’all have is the dead body of someone who wasn’t from here and had no good reason to be here.”

  “If I was you boys,” Perkins continued smugly, “I would bundle all my problems into one neat little package and nail Eddie for the murder. All the evidence you’ve got points to him and-. What?” He turned to Alex, who looked dismayed.

  “We don’t have any evidence at all,” Alex said.

  “Sure you do. You have a dead body with Eddie Von Hussant’s prints all over it. Eddie ain’t got no alibi and neither of y’all saw the mystery truck when you were in Johnson’s pasture.” Perkins smirked. “Pin it on Eddie and y’all will have solved the case, cleared your buddy of any wrong doings, and Momma’s boy here will get to keep his badge by eliminating his competition for the job.” Perkins laughed. “How’s that for police work, boys? I just solved all your problems without ever leaving the office.”

  “I just can’t see Eddie as a killer,” Alex said, shaking his head.

  “No one is paying you for instincts. You’ve got evidence; use it.” Perkins glared at him, seeming angry for the first time.

  Addison was shaking his head. “This ain’t right,” he said.

  “You wouldn’t know right if it bit you on the ass,” Perkins said sharply. “Speaking of incompetent, I’ll go ahead and clear up another little mystery for you, while I’m at it.”

  “What?” Addison growled, glowering at the poaching report Perkins had plucked off the desk and was currently waving in front of his nose.

  “Riley Ramirez is charging folks 50 bucks a pop to keep the game warden occupied on one side of the county while they get an early start on hunting season on the other side of the county. He’s got a couple of spotlights with colored tissue paper duct-taped over them. He goes out into the woods and waves ‘em around near the house of someone he knows will call the cops out to investigate. Hunters pay him to do it. From what I hear, he’s making a nice little profit,” Perkins laughed.

  “That son-of-a-no-good-.”Addison’s face flushed red with fury.

  “Con-artist?” Perkins supplied.

  “Just wait until I get my hands around his scrawny neck.” Addison trailed off and began pacing the length of his desk.

  Perkins laughed a deep belly laugh that seemed to shake him all the way through his fat jowls. Addison had never disliked the man more than he did as Perkins set the papers all back down on his desk and began gathering up his things to go out on patrol. Addison noted with scorn that Perkins’ things included a fat paperback novel.

  “You boys try not to work too hard,” Perkins said as he walked out the door. “I’m looking forward to reading your reports,” he called out.

  They sat and stared at the door after it closed behind him.

  “Jesus Christ,” Alex muttered finally, shaking his head as he turned to Addison. “How much of that do you believe?”

  “About Riley?” Addison was totally livid. “It’s true; I guarantee it. That’s just his style. Just wait until I get my hands around his scrawny little throat. He’s going to wish he was never even born.”

  “I didn’t mean Riley. The Riley part, I believe. It’s typical. I can’t believe we didn’t think about Riley.” Alex rubbed his hands together and took a deep breath. “I mean about Eddie.”

  Addison stopped pacing for moment and frowned. “I don’t really buy Eddie as a killer,” he said finally.”

  “Me neither, but?” Alex paused and shrugged. His forehead was deeply creased by wrinkles and looking far older than his 22 years. “He’s right about the evidence though.�


  Addison’s eyebrows shot up.

  “You think he’s good for it?” Addison asked.

  “I think,” Alex swallowed nervously and licked his lips, “I don’t think David did it.”

  Addison shook his head in agreement. “Me neither. It’s not his style.”

  “It’s too sloppy.” Alex ran his tongue across his teeth and picked up a water bottle off of the desk and downed half of it in one gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared through the glass door out into the night. “I need this job, Addison.”

  “I understand that,” Addison said, stepping up behind him.

  “No, you don’t.” Alex was shaking his head. “I really really need this job.”

  “Man, I know. Eddie’s been making a fool of himself on his own though. I’m not sure we’ll need to do anything to him. I think he’s screwing up on his own enough that, in time, Uncle Wally’s going to be able to get rid of him.”

  “Katie’s pregnant,” Alex said softly.

  “Do what?” Addison stared at him in shock.

  Alex rubbed his forehead. “We found out last Thursday, but we ain’t told anyone yet. Her Momma’s gonna have a cow, but we figured if we waited until after I was hired on as an official Coastal County Sheriff’s Deputy, it wouldn’t be so bad.”

  Addison nodded. “That kind of makes sense, I mean. Y’all have been together a long time.”

  “We were planning on getting married as soon as I could afford a ring, even before we found out about the, you know.”

  “The baby,” Addison filled in the blank and Alex nodded.

  “Everything would’ve worked out just fine, except now there’s Eddie, and Wally’s saying he’s better qualified and that he wants to hire me, but he’s afraid of getting sued.” Alex turned away and Addison was pretty sure he was trying to hide brimming tears. “Now everything’s falling apart,” he choked out. “If I don’t get this job,- you know there aren’t any jobs around here right now. I’ll have to go back to bagging groceries for $7.50 an hour. You can’t support a kid on $7.50 an hour.”

  Addison cursed and sank down into his desk chair. His mind was racing. “Look, I’ll figure this out. Somehow. We’ll take care of it. Have you told Wally yet?”

  Alex shook his head no. “He’d tell Momma, Addison.”

  “You need to. Especially if we’re really going to file a report claiming Eddie’s our suspect.” Addison scowled at the ceiling. “Fuck, why can’t anything ever be easy?”

  Alex was watching him with tears still threatening to spill down his cheeks, a scarce hope in his eyes. “You really think we could?”

  “I’m starting to think we may not have a choice,” Addison said grimly. “Look, I sent Cal to go do a little information gathering. I need to talk to him before we do anything, but depending on what he says we’ll get this shit taken care of. One way or another.”

  “I need to be able to take care of my family,” Alex said. “Katie deserves not to have to worry.”

  Addison held up one hand to stop him before he went any further. “We’ll get it taken care of, Alex.”

  “Do you think Perkins would write the report?” Alex asked him after a moment.

  “If it comes down to it, I’ll write the report myself,” said Addison.

  *

  Cal had just reclined the driver’s seat of his truck, anticipating a nice long wait, when Gracie came hurrying out of the Math and Science Building. Despite everything that had gone wrong between the two of them, he had to smile as he watched her walk towards him in ripped blue jeans, cheap bright red plastic flip-flops, and a hoodie he recognized as being one of his old ones.

  Two realizations hit Cal at the same time. The first was that she’d been telling the truth when she’d claimed she was miserable at college. Gracie always dressed up when she was in a good mood. The ratty jeans and sloppy ponytail told Cal more about her state of mind than anything else he’d figured out over the last couple of days. The second realization Cal made was that he had to fix whatever had gone wrong between the two of them because he wasn’t sure he would survive the next 50 years if he had to live without her. He still loved her with every single piece of his heart and soul.

  He opened the driver’s side door of his truck without even really thinking about it and held out his arms out to Gracie. She never hesitated. She closed the distance between them at a run, flinging herself into his chest so hard that she nearly knocked him over. The hard steel side of the Chevy was the only thing that kept them both from landing on their butts on the hot pavement. Gracie buried her face in his shoulder.

  “Oh God, Cal. I miss you.” Gracie spoke the words so softly that he could barely hear her. He tightened his grip around her waist. God, she felt good to hold. Cal pressed his nose into her hair, noticing that she had changed shampoos. It was an improvement. He’d never much cared for the kiwi-banana scent she’d liked to use in high school.

  “Miss you too, babe.” He stroked his hand through her hair, pulling the ponytail loose. He kept one arm securely around her waist as he used his thumb to tilt her chin up so that she had to look at him. Her wide turquoise eyes were brimming with unshed tears. Cal felt the last of his doubts about whether or not he still wanted their relationship drain away as he stared into her eyes. “We need to talk.”

  “I was afraid you would say that.” Gracie frowned at him. “Can we skip the talk, please?”

  “Skip the talk and do what?” He asked.

  Gracie traced one fingertip down his jawline. “Go to the houseboat,” she said with a small smile. “Buy a case of beer and a couple containers of worms. Catch a couple of catfish and fry them up for supper. Maybe I can bake a cheesecake while you clean the fish?”

  “Sounds nice,” Cal put both his hands on her shoulders and tried his damnedest not to let her see how much he wanted to do exactly what she had just suggested. Spending the night fishing on the houseboat with her sounded like heaven compared to the conversation he was about to make her have with him. “It’s not that easy, Gracie. You lied to me. Big time. I want to know why.”

  “I didn’t want to lie to you,” she whispered the words as tears started spilling down her cheeks. The door to the Math and Science Building opened. Students started pouring out, talking loudly and yelling to one another.

  “Get in the truck,” he told her. “We’re about to have a conversation that I don’t want anyone overhearing.”

  Gracie reluctantly released her grip on him. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Cal almost pulled her back into him, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not until he knew the truth of whatever was going on. He held the driver’s side door of the truck open for her and gestured for Gracie to climb in. She tossed her backpack across the cab so that it landed against the passenger’s side door and then slid into the truck after it.

  Cal got into the driver’s seat and closed the door. Gracie didn’t say a word as he gunned the Chevy backwards out of the parking lot, making the tires squeal in protest as he knocked the transmission into drive. He crooked the corners of his mouth up at her, not quite a smile but not a frown. Gracie shook her head at him, but she was almost smiling too.

  “I always thought you told me everything,” Cal said to her. “I never thought I’d see the day you started keeping secrets from me.”

  “You didn’t give me much of a choice,” Gracie replied, the hurt clear in her eyes. “It’s hard to tell the truth to someone who refuses to listen to a word that comes out of your mouth.”

  “If you had told me that David had killed your fucking boyfriend, I would have listened.” Cal tightened his grip on the steering wheel and watched from the corner of his eye as her mouth fell open and all the color drained from her normally rosy cheeks.

  “David didn’t-.” She started shaking her head at him.

  “No more lies, Gracie.” He cut her off before she could piss him off any further than he already was. Cal was trying his damnedest to keep his calm.
“I’ve always been on your side. It’s never mattered what you did or why. I’ve always stood behind you and dealt with the fallout. Don’t lie to me. I can forgive y’all for damn near anything, so long as you stop fucking lying to me.”

  “Cal, please.” She had a hesitation in her voice when she said his name. She started to reach for him and then pulled her hand back into her own lap. “You don’t understand.”

  “How can I understand when y’all don’t tell me the truth?” Cal countered, unable to keep the anger and frustration out of his voice.

  “How can we tell you the truth when you’re so stubborn, you won’t listen?” Gracie crossed her arms over her chest, losing the fight against the tears that had been threatening to spill since he’d wrapped his arms around her in the parking lot. “You never listen, Cal. It’s your biggest flaw. We tried to tell you the truth first. You flat-out refused to hear so much as one single word of it. Even now, I just tried to tell you the truth and you cut me off mid-sentence and accused me of lying to you.”

  “You didn’t try hard enough.” He practically spat the words at her.

  “You’re such an asshole sometimes, Calvin.” She only ever used his full name when she was furious with him. Cal had never been more aware of her than he was at this moment. Beautiful Gracie with her golden curls and bright eyes. Beautiful Gracie, who he’d always been afraid might be a little too beautiful for him to hang onto forever. He caught sight of an abandoned gas station on the side of the road and pulled into it. He couldn’t focus on both Gracie and the road right now. He cut the engine.

  “I’m an asshole?” Cal repeated her words in disbelief.

  “I love you so much that it physically hurts, Cal. I’m sitting here in your truck, and all I can think is how desperately I want to be back with you. All I can think about is how much I miss you. Missing you is the only thing I’ve been able to think about for the last eight months. I’m failing all my classes because I spend all my time staring out the windows and thinking about you. Every time I see a blue truck, I have to turn around and make sure it’s not your truck.” She took a deep breath, brushing the tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand.

 

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