by Gen Griffin
Dr. Daugherty's warm brown eyes widened and Kerry started to cry.
“I don't know why I bother,” he wailed. “They all hate me. They want to hire Ian instead so they're trying to get rid of me. I fell backwards off a porch and gave myself a concussion, and now I'm sure it'll be in my personnel file. Someone will bring it up and say I'm a blithering idiot at my first review. I'm never going to catch Benjamin Gomez's murderer because now he knows I saw him, and he probably didn't kill me because he needed to spend his time hiding all the evidence instead.”
“Oh honey.” The doctor appeared to be at a loss for words.
“You want to know what the worst part was?” he asked her. Tears were rushing down Kerry's face faster than the Kleenex the doctor had handed him could absorb them.
“What it is it sweetie?” she asked soothingly, rubbing his back in a motherly way.
“Right before I fell off the porch, I was looking at David, and he was looking at me, and my right eye twitched!”
“Okay. Well then you may not have fallen; it may have been some kind of medical...” the doctor seemed vaguely concerned, but he shook his head.
“No, it's social. It started around puberty, lasted all the way through high school getting progressively worse despite seven hours of therapy a week and then went away in college. Now it's back.”
“You poor thing.”
“I hate Callahan County,” he sobbed.
“It sounds to me like you've just had a miserable day and too much stress.” The doctor patted his hand and handed him another tissue. She walked over to a locked cabinet in the corner of the room and pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid, stuck a syringe in it and then held the needle up in front of Kerry with scarcely a nod. “This will make you feel better.”
His eyes widened for a moment, then he nodded and held out his arm. She shook her head and gestured for him to stick out his leg. It looked scrawny and was almost whiter than the sheet as she stuck the needle into it.
“Now you get some rest, honey. I'll come check on you in the morning,” Dr. Daugherty told him.
He said he would even though he didn't think that would be possible. He saw David's face looming towards him every time he closed his eyes. Whatever the doctor had given him in the syringe was working though, because he closed his eyes and tried to forget about David and passed out cold.
Chapter 11
“Tell David we're probably going to have to arrest him in the morning.” Frank Chasson scowled at the pile of paperwork Kerry had apparently placed on his desk before his ill-fated tumble onto the transmission. The Sheriff was gritting his teeth and pulling on his mustache hairs with a fierceness that Addy had never seen before.
“What?” Addison stared at his Uncle. “You can't be serious.”
Frank sighed. “He's filed a report claiming enough evidence to bring David in for questioning. He's claiming to have backed his own eyewitness account up by investigating every 1980's model Toyota in the county. He says David's is the only one he hasn't been able to rule out. His report says he's already requested, and received, a search warrant from Judge Bohannon for David's truck.”
Addison's eyebrows shot up. “I thought no one was allowed to request a search warrant without you okaying it?”
“They're not.” Frank glared at the report in his hand. “But that's department policy. Not the law.”
“He's already gotten the search warrant?” Addison couldn't believe it. “The last time I tried to get a search warrant it took me three days and the whole county knew before I got it. Evidence was so far gone by the time I got there, it wasn't even funny.”
“He said,” Frank held up the neatly written report, “that he went ahead and went directly to the judge when he couldn't reach me. He claims he didn't want to give a murder suspect the chance to get ahead of our investigation.”
“I can't believe he got a warrant,” Addison said.
“That makes two of us.” Frank shook his head. “When I get my hands on that boy in the morning he's going to wish that damned transmission had killed him.”
Addison laughed, but turned sober quickly. “If you don't kill him, David sure as hell will.”
“David.” Frank tugged several gray hairs free from his mustache. “Tell David to bring the truck down here first thing in the morning, so I can go ahead and send it off to Baker County. Their crime techs will go over it with a forensic fine tooth comb whenever they get the time. Kerry's trying to push it through as high priority, but I'm not signing off on that.”
“Yeah, I really see David cooperating with a bullshit investigation headed by Kerry.” Addison ran his tongue over his teeth and wished for a cigarette. “How can he even do this?”
“Do what?” Frank asked.
“Arrest my best friend on a warrant based on his own bullshit eyewitness report?” Addison scanned the report as Frank handed it to him. He was getting madder by the minute.
“The eyes of the law don't discriminate,” Frank said.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Addison asked.
“Addy, if you see a hunter shoot an illegal deer, and he claims he didn't do it, who do we believe?”
“That's different.”
“Not legally,” Frank said. “If you or I saw someone dump a dead body out of a truck, and we recognized the person or the truck, what would happen?”
“We'd arrest them,” Addison said. “At the scene. When we saw them do it. Red-handed with the evidence.”
Frank glowered and gave the mustache another hard yank. “Don't even get me started on that.”
“I just don't see why we're arresting David based on Kerry's report.” Addy crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldn't trust Kerry's word when it comes to what would be good on a sandwich. Let alone a crime.”
“It's law, Addison. Kerry is playing this strictly by the books,” Frank said. “Kerry claims he witnessed a crime. I have no choice but to believe him the same way I would believe you or any other responsible and trustworthy officer of the law. He has credibility and he’s collaborated his report with basic preliminary investigative work. David's going to have to come in, and he's going to have to bring that truck with him. Unless it somehow gets crushed by the junkyard between now and eight o'clock tomorrow morning.”
“Shit,” Addison muttered.
Frank shot Addison a meaningful look before continuing. “I want you to give David very specific instructions on how to handle this, understand me?”
Addison nodded, not sure where this was going.
“Tell him that when he comes in tomorrow he needs to demand a lawyer the minute Kerry opens his mouth to interrogate him.”
“A lawyer?” Addison's jaw dropped. Lawyers in Possum Creek were unheard of.
Then again, this was the first truly unsolved murder in Callahan County, population 1,274, in nearly 10 years. Most Callahan County murderers were caught at the scene of the crime, still holding the murder weapon.
“A lawyer. Tell him not to open his damn mouth at all except to demand his lawyer.”
“But he's innocent. Why would he need a lawyer?” Addison tried to forget the way David had stared at him when he'd told him he was being investigated for murder. It hadn't been the most innocent expression he'd ever seen on his best friend's face. He'd looked surprised, but not nearly as surprised as he should have. Gracie was his alibi for the time of the body dump. Because David and Gracie had suddenly developed a wild attraction to one another after years of platonic friendship.
A message from the State University Police was sitting on his desk.
Addison was getting a bad feeling about all of this. He tried not to let it show as he forced his attention back to Uncle Frank.
“Because the Callahan County Sheriff Department is not his friend any more. It's no one's friend.” Frank held his hands up in the air, frustration evident on his almost sixty-year-old face. “I've been the Sheriff here for 34 years and I've always run things based more on
my own judgment than the book of the law. Despite being one of the smallest Sheriff’s Departments in the state, we have one of the lowest crime rates. I try to be preventative and realistic. You know that.”
Addison nodded, recalling the occasional poachers he let slide because he knew the meat was going to feed their families for the next month, not hang as a trophy on the wall.
“I've always thought my approach worked for us, worked for Possum Creek and Callahan County as a whole, but Kerry Longwood doesn't.”
“Who gives a shit about Kerry Longwood?” Addison still couldn't quite wrap his mind around the reality that Kerry's eye witness account was enough to get a warrant put out on his best friend.
“The law,” Frank replied. “Legally, David should have been arrested tonight. Kerry had that warrant in his pocket; the ink probably wasn't even dry on it yet. Instead, I'm going to claim total ignorance because Kerry didn't inform me about the warrant, and we're going to round David up in the morning. Even a lousy lawyer will be able to throw Kerry's case against David right out the window. The search warrant on his truck will probably be declared null-and-void. Anything they get off the truck will be thrown out along with it.”
“He's not going to want to sit here all day waiting on a lawyer.” Addison sighed, already imagining the fit David was going to pitch over this mess.
“Tell him too bad.” Frank turned to Addy and gave him a serious look. “Tell him it's our best chance of getting rid of Kerry. Make sure he understands that.”
Addison blinked at him. “How will David getting a lawyer help us get rid of Kerry?”
“Because I can claim Kerry botched our murder investigation by going off on wild tangents without proper evidence.” Frank yanked the mustache hard enough to make his own eyes water. “If the evidence in the truck gets thrown out by the lawyer, it gives me more proof.”
“There's no murder evidence in David's truck.” Addison said.
“Probably not, but there's bound to be blood. He's been hunting with that thing for years.”
“Most of it’s probably mine. I cut myself working on my truck last year and bled like a damned stuck pig all the way to the hospital.” Addison held up his forearm to display a three inch scar. “He's not going to like this.”
“It doesn't matter what he likes. It's what has to be done. Oh, and tell him not to talk to you or Ian while he's here. Kerry will have y'all subpoenaed to testify in court faster than you can blink.”
“This shit sucks,” Addison said gloomily.
“You've always taken the way things were run around here for granted. Now you see what it could be, and what it would be, if we didn't have that open trust in one another.” Frank tugged on his mustache, pulling loose several hairs.
“I don't like it,” Addison said.
“Me neither. If I have to hire Kerry Longwood on as my deputy, you can bet your ass I'm going to retire come the next election.” Frank crossed his arms over his chest and nodded self-righteously. “I'm too old to deal with this crap. I'm going home and going to bed.” Frank stood up from his desk chair.
“Uh, Uncle Frank, there's one more thing I need to ask you.” Addison was holding Kerry's report in one hand.
“What?”
“How are we supposed to get David's truck to Baker County when David has the only wrecker in town?”
“Oh Christ.” Frank groaned and leaned his head against the door-frame. “Tell Kerry that's his problem.”
Addison nodded. He had a few things he was planning on telling Kerry. None of them nice.
Chapter 12
“I'm being arrested?” David stared at Addison in disbelief.
“Not by choice.” Addison held up his hands. “Kerry went behind Uncle Frank's back and got a search warrant while he was on the lake fishing.”
“I don't believe this bullshit.” David spun around and slammed his fist into the side of his Toyota, directly next to the dent Cal had punched into it Friday night. “You're telling me that goddamned little twerp is going to be wandering all over my property tomorrow searching for evidence of-. Of what exactly?”
David racked his brain trying to think of any possible evidence he might have missed during the cleanup. The car was long gone, buried deep in the muck at the hunting lease. David had burned frat boy's wallet, cellphone and other personal effects in the burn barrel. When the fire had reduced the mess to ash, David had emptied the burn barrel into the creek. The body had been reduced to gator bait. The gun Addison had given Gracie was deep in the depths of the bayou.
Nothing about this situation made sense. The body should have been in a hundred different catfish and alligator bellies by now. How the hell had Kerry managed to get a hold of the entire corpse when David had disposed of it deep in the heart of the bayou? He hadn't seen any other boats. Hell, he'd barely even been able to see three feet in front of his face. There was no way to get to the old still without a boat.
Kerry had to be pulling this shit out of his ass.
Except they had a body. Or at least part of one.
Fuck.
Addison cringed at the fist-sized dent that David had just put in the truck's bed. “He’s not searching your property. Just your truck.”
David's mind was going a mile a minute, but he stopped then.
“My truck?” He blinked at Addison, confused. His truck had nothing to do with anything. The only two vehicles the body had been in were the BMW, which he'd already disposed of and the boat he'd sunk in the creek.
“Yeah. Kerry swears you used the Toyota to transport the body. It was the only thing he could actually get a warrant for because he was able to rule out every other 1980's model Toyota in the county. Buy a newer truck when you get the chance, okay? Get an F150 or something else, really, really common.”
“My truck.” David didn't know whether to laugh or shoot somebody. “You mean to tell me that y'all are going to come on to my property, arrest me and take my fucking truck because some obnoxious little dweeb has a grudge against me?”
“Uncle Frank said to demand a lawyer the minute you get to the office in the morning.” Addison looked nervous and edgy, which only fueled David's fury.
“Why the hell should I have to do that?” David crossed his arms over his chest. Addison needed to leave. Now.
“Look, David, this isn't anyone's idea of fun.”
“This is total bullshit. We're supposed to be living in a free country, but y'all are going to arrest me because of something Kerry said? ” David argued. “Y'all wouldn't even trust Kerry to wash your socks, but his word is good enough that my best friend is willing to put me in jail?”
“It's not like that.” Addison protested. David ignored him.
“No, it's fucking worse than that. The idiot fell off my porch and knocked himself unconscious. Don't you think I would have taken advantage of that if I were really the murderer y'all think I am?”
“I do not think you're a murderer,” Addison snapped. “I think this is bullshit every bit as much as you do, but we're going to get it taken care of. Come down to the department tomorrow and demand your damned lawyer the minute Kerry walks into the interrogation room and-,”
“What interrogation room?” David threw up his hands. “Y'all don't have a fucking interrogation room.”
“Oh Christ, will you just listen for a minute?” Addison glared at him. David was vaguely pleased to see Addison's cheeks were starting to flush with anger.
“Come down to the station in the morning and bring the truck,” Addison said. “Scream for your lawyer the minute Kerry looks in your direction. I'll have Ian call Gracie and get your official alibi.”
“Keep Gracie out of this,” David said.
“What?” Addison stared at him.
“Keep Gracie the hell out of this. Don't call her.”
“Gracie can prove that you were where you said you were this weekend.” Addison started to try to explain, but David shook his head vigorously. He could take care of himself, but
Gracie wasn't a good liar. David didn't see the point in both of them spending the next twenty-five years in the state prison.
“Keep her out of this,” David repeated. “Promise me you won't call her.”
Addison stared at David for a moment. They locked eyes, Addison looked away first.
“Is there something going on that I need to know about?” Addison asked finally, sounding resigned.
David considered telling him everything, but the reality of the situation made it too dangerous. Addison would flip out. He'd likely go against the Sheriff and refuse to arrest David. The next thing David knew, he'd be chopping up Kerry's body and disposing of it right along with Gracie's most recent date.
“Get the hell off my property,” David said to him flatly.
“What?” Addison gaped at him.
“Get off my property. This is private land and you don't have a warrant. Get lost, Addison.”
Addison looked stunned as David made a shooing gesture in his direction. He stood next to his gray Fish and Game Department truck waiting for David to change his mind, but David just glared at him.
Finally Addison held up his hands in a sign of surrender, got into the gray truck, and took off out of the driveway slinging gravel and rocks.
“I'm doing this for your own damn good,” David muttered as the Ford slid sideways onto the blacktop, tires squealing with anger. “That, and I've got to make sure anything that could possibly tie me to that body is long gone before morning.”
Chapter 13
Cal was a few blocks away from Walker Hardware when Addison ran his county-issue Ford right up onto the tailgate of the Chevy and turned on the lights and sirens.
“You've got to be kidding me,” Cal muttered with a small laugh. He eased the Chevy into the First Baptist Church's parking lot and rolled down the window. Instead of pulling in behind him, Addison circled his truck and pulled around so that the two pick-ups were sitting driver's window to driver's window.