Still Waters

by David Banner

  “Just back away…” she answered. “Let him come home to me, let him-”

  “Daphne,” Ryan stopped her. “If he’s innocent he will have nothing to worry about. All he needs to do is speak with us and clear his name.”

  “I…” Ryan could almost hear the tears flowing down her face. “He didn’t hurt anyone. I know it. He’s a good man. You have to back away, you have to let him come home. I’m afraid of what he might do.”

  “Are you talking to him now?” Ryan asked, hearing what sounded like another phone call in the background. It was low and distant but Ryan heard a mans voice. It was Gus, he knew it.”

  “I-” she stopped.

  The detective cut his eyes to his partner as she reached for her phone. He extended his arm, stopping her from dialing. She, like almost any other officer would have in that moment was going to call for backup. It would only things worse, Ryan knew.

  He flipped the call into speakerphone, letting Kit heard the sadness and pleading in both Gus and his fiancés voice. The man was frightened and frantic. The sound of sirens or the sight of police lights flashing behind him would very likely set him off.

  He hadn’t panicked yet and they needed to keep it that way.

  “I need you to listen to me.” The detective said calmly as the small truck turned onto yet another seemingly random street. A dark and weaving two-lane road stretched out for miles ahead. There no cars and no houses, only the moonlit marsh and the mystery it often contained.

  The truck continued its slow pace as Ryan listened to the distant and pleading sound of Daphne’s voice. Though he couldn’t understand her Ryan still trusted her tone. Just as he’d asked the woman was begging her fiancé to pull his car to a stop.

  “He won’t,” her voice echoed again through the phone. “He’s not going to stop. He said he won’t spend the rest of his life in prison for something he didn’t do. I’m scared, I don’t know what to say to make him stop.”

  “He has no choice,” Ryan answered as his cruiser topped a small hill.

  Roughly a half mile ahead of them the small road came to a dead stop. Nothing but the moonlit ocean waves stretched out before them. Ryan breathed in relief. Gus Greenfield would have no choice but to talk with them.

  “What do you mean?” Daphne asked. “Please… just stay away from him. Just let him come home and I promise you I’ll convince him to come in and speak with you.”

  “We can’t do that,” the detective answered. “At this point, he’s evading police. That in itself is a crime. Not to mention how guilty it makes him look.”

  “Guilty of what?”

  Listening to the young womans trembling voice he turned to his partner. They both knew the truth. Holly Waters was very likely dead and the sweet womans fiancé was likely to blame. Three days is never a good thing when it comes to missing persons.

  Daphne Kyser fell silent on the phone, as the detectives continued their pursuit of the young man. His bright red brake lights fell harshly on Ryans windshield, spilling into his car like an unwelcome guest.

  The grey truck came to a slow stop and began idling in place only a few feet from the sand. Daphne’s voice was distant and pleading on the phone. She was still talking to her fiancé, still begging him to go calmly.

  “He has a gun…” Daphne cried tearfully into the phone. “Don’t’ go near him. Just leave, leave and let me find him.”

  Both Ryan and Kit grabbed their weapons. Ryan threw the cruiser into ‘Park’ and stepped outside. Placing the phone on the cars’ roof the detectives raised their weapons. Daphne’s cries echoed into the night, carrying across the soulful southern breeze before disappearing into the vast oceanic darkness.

  Ryan watched as the trucks driver-side window moved slowly downward. His heart raced, pounding against his chest as he met Gus’s eyes in the small door-side mirror. The mans face was flushed with blood, shimmering with tears and puffed from crying.

  The detective focused in, watching for even the slightest movement as he kept his weapon aimed high. Surely, he thought, Gus wouldn’t be stupid enough to fire at a detective. Maybe Kit was right. They should have called for backup.

  “Can you see him?” She asked.

  “Yes,” he answered in a soft voice. “He’s staring at me in the mirror.”

  The young man sniffled hard, pulling watery tear-filled mucus back into his nose. Daphne’s voice still echoed into the darkness as she begged for an update. Neither Ryan nor Kit answered her. Her voice grew louder and louder before stopping again.

  The officers finger rested hard against the trigger as he noticed the suspect beginning to move. This was it, he thought, he was going to have to fire. Ryan steadied himself, closing one eye and taking aim. He stopped as Gus Greenfield placed a phone against his ear.

  “Goodbye.” His lips read.

  The young mans body jerked violently as the bullet ripped through his skull. Bright red blood spattered across the trucks cabin, spraying through the open window then carrying across the breeze.

  Daphne’s cries wailed through the dark still night, crashing hard against the peaceful ocean like an unsteady ship. The detective dropped his gun and ran toward the truck, hoping and praying the young man was still alive.

  One look is all he needed to know the truth.

  Gus Greenfield was gone and he was never coming back.

  Chapter 23

  “Detective Ryan Devereux,” the obviously-angered woman began. “Looks like he’s at it again. Here we are, just a week after my fiancé died alone in an alley with this man and now another young Lowcountry citizen has lost their life. When will enough be enough? When will this man be brought to justice?”

  Ryan stared at his laptops screen, watching as Alisha Ogdon accused him of multiple counts of murder. Was this real, he thought to himself. Of course the young woman had been through a lot and of course her nerves would be frayed but how long would she continue this witch hunt? How long until she realized Ryan had nothing to do with her husbands actions?

  “Wow,” Daphne sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t’ worry about it,” he answered. “I doubt much will come from the frantic words of a grieving widow. Sometimes you just have to let things play out.”

  “I guess we’re both grieving widows now,” she sighed.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to-”

  “It’s alright, I’m working through it.” She looked to a small framed photo of her former fiancé. “Or at least I’m trying to.”

  One look at the womans face told the detective she wasn’t doing as well as she claimed. Her eyes were puffy from crying, her face red and flushed and her movements slow and tired from lack of sleep.

  Losing someone you love is never easy. It’s a simple fact. But losing someone in such a terrible way and so unexpectedly is almost unbearable for most people. He extended his hand, placing it softly on her knee. She lifted her hand and sat it atop his. Though basic, human touch was valuable in times like these.

  “Whenever you’re ready,” he said.

  “I’m ready,” she answered with a slow nod.

  Ryan opened his computer and turned it toward her as a surveillance clip began to play. Daphne Kyser leaned in wide-eyed as she watched the man she loved climb into a truck with another woman and drive away.

  It must have been hard for her, he thought. But she needed to see it, she needed to know the truth. Gus Greenfield was the last person to see Holly Waters alive. She shook her head, resting her face in her palms before collapsing backward into the bright red couch.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I just wanted you to see it for yourself.”

  “I get it,” she answered. “It’s just hard.”

  “The truck,” he paused the frame. “Do you know where Gus’s truck is now?”

  “No… but I think I can find it.”

  “How?”

  Her body shivered as though a winter chill ran up her spine. She stood, brushing
back her long brown hair as she headed for the kitchen. Ryan watched as the young woman removed a large bottle of bourbon. She grabbed two glasses then headed for the couch. Her hands shook as she poured the dark brown liquor.

  “The truck…. Gus has a friend down at the body shop. He removed the stereo and everything. Replaced it with a big iPad. It has a map feature. I can track it.”

  What most people don’t realize about things like cellphones, tablets and electronic mapping devices is that they never sleep. A few classes up at the state capital told Detective Ryan Devereux everything he needed to know about things like Google, Waze and GPS backtracking.

  Things like Google’s real-time non-stop tracking history were amazing tools in the rights hands. There was only one problem. Law enforcement officials were rarely able to access them, even for suspected criminals.

  Thank God, the detective said a small prayer. I can finally get some answers.

  “Show me,” Ryan nodded toward his laptop.

  A few minutes, an email address and a single eleven-digit password was all it took for the detective to have a leg up. Tears streamed down her face as she sorted through a handful of windows until finally reaching a large map depicting Charleston and its’ surrounding areas.

  A small blue orb flashed to life in the screens upper left quadrant. Ryan narrowed his eyes as the young woman zoomed in closer. I know that place, he thought. The vehicle in question seemed to be located just three feet away from Gus Sr.’s house.

  “His father,” Daphne said, her voice shaking and nervous. “He has the truck.”

  “Thank you,” he answered. “Would you mind downloading the tracking files from the time he left with Holly up until he-“

  “Died.” Daphne answered with a deep breath. “Alright.”

  She clicked through a few screens until finally reaching the file in question. Ryan watched her finger hover over the mouse as she stared into the screen. What must have been going through her mind, he thought.

  She’d promised to love a man for the rest of her life only to watch him take her trust and crush it beneath his boot. With just the simple click of a mouse she would destroy him forever, they both knew it. Gus Greenfield would go down in history for the murder of an innocent young woman and nothing was going to change that.

  “I met her once, you know.” Daphne pulled back, letting her weary hand rest atop her knee. “Before all of this. Or at least before I knew about it… She was sweet. I recognized her from the evening news. She was at the beach doing a story on something to do with sea turtles, I think. We talked for a while. I’ve thought about that day a million times, trying to remember if Gus was there, if that was the day all of this started. I think maybe it was…”

  “I know how hard this is,” he answered. “Believe me.”

  “She cheated?” Daphne asked, waiting just a beat too long.

  “Yes.”

  It was a difficult thing to remember and an even more difficult thing to talk about. When at all possible Ryan tried his best to forget his wife’s indiscretions. But sometimes memories permeate and calling them to mind is easier than trying to ignore them.

  “We were young,” he began. “I worked a lot. Too much… I wasn’t there for her in the way I should have been. I didn’t know it then, not the way I do now. I’m not trying to absolve her, I couldn’t. But I’ve learned to forgive her. I’ve learned to move on, to love her again.”

  Love her again… Had he really just said those words out loud?

  “I’m sorry,” he shook it off. “I didn’t mean to make it about me.”

  “No. I could use the distraction.”

  Taking a final slow sip from her small glass she began the download.

  “The wifi… it’s slow.” Daphne’s wounded voice was barely audible. “And this is a big file. It’s going to take some time.”

  “I don’t mind waiting,” he answered.

  Nearly an hour later Ryan woke to find the young woman asleep, her face pressed against his chest and her hand resting softly on his stomach. He remembered Jillian, the way she used to fall asleep in the very same position. Daphne’s brown hair and smooth skin brought him back to this days, to happiness and comfort he’d once felt.

  He was left wondering if either of them would ever feel that peace again.

  “It’s done,” he said, softly rousing her awake.

  “Oh,” she wiped her eyes, her face flush with embarrassment. “I- I’m sorry. I was-”

  “It’s alright,” he assured her. “We all need someone.”

  “He didn’t do it,” she called after him as he approached the door. “I know you think he did and I know what the evidence says, but he didn’t do it. Gus wasn’t a murderer. He had his flaws but he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not like that.”

  “I hope you’re right. I really do.”

  Chapter 24

  “Its kind of alarming if you think about it,” Kit scrolled through the download of Gus’s data file. “Google kept track of literally every step he took.”

  “Yeah,” Ryan said. “If it wasn’t for Daphne we wouldn’t have gotten it. Those companies almost never give the information over.”

  The detectives cruiser headed slowly north as they began following the mans trail from the moment he and Holly left the small apartment complex. Narrow two-lane roads stretched out into the forever ahead of them. Beautiful trees and mysterious Spanish moss lined their journey.

  “This is his fathers house,” Kit said. “He drove straight there, no stop.”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Which means Gus Sr. was lying about everything. He must have met Holly Waters.”

  “Do you think he’s covering?” Kit asked.

  “He would have to be,” her partner nodded. “It wouldn’t be that far out of the bounds of reason for a father to try and protect his son.”

  “Murder…” she sighed. “I don’t know that I could lie about that no matter how much I loved someone.”

  I think I could, Ryan thought to himself. Kit Walker didn’t have children and without them its hard to know what you will or won’t do to protect them. At least in Ryan Devereux’s opinion. Since the birth of his daughter he’d lied to his wife more than a few times. Never about anything big of course. Broken lamps and missing pets mostly. Still, something told him he would one day have to lie again in order to save her from tears.

  “According to this he stayed in his father’s house for forty-eight minutes before leaving.”

  “Yes.” Ryan answered. “Whatever happened to Holly must have happened in that forty-five minutes. If you look you’ll see he travelled down a small road right after that where he stayed for just over an hour.”

  “Chunks of this data is missing.”

  “Spotty signal I think.” Ryan answered. “I’ve looked up the address. It’s a marsh, one that is usually used for gator hunting.”

  “Gators…” her voice trailed away. “Poor girl.”

  Based on the facts Ryan doubted there would be much of the girl left to find. Still though, he had to check it out, he needed to follow each lead, looking under every rock and in the mouth of every Carolina-born alligator. Lord, he thought to himself. I hope she wasn’t alive when he left her there.

  Some might think it presumptuous to assume the young girl had been left for dead in a marsh but Ryan Devereux had been a detective for the better part of his life now and he was good at his job. This was no cold case though, there were pressures here, active and current pressures.

  Maryann Waters was a good woman, a quiet and kind soul who didn’t deserve the stress or heartache of a missing child. No one deserved that, he mused. Time can be a cruel thing for the grieving and the detective knew that. His heart ached for the woman. What hell she must be going through, he thought. Her daughter wouldn’t be coming back.

  “Looks like he stopped the truck and then walked into the marsh.” Kit noted. “He made three trips between the two.”

  “Where?” Ryan asked. “I didn’t
see that.”

  “Here,” she pointed to a series of numbers on her screen. “See, its’ only about one hundred feet but he keeps retracing his steps. From the truck to a specific spot and then back again.”

  “We need to know what’s in that spot. It’s only a few more miles down the road. Just past his fathers house.”

  Only a few miles further down the road Ryan spotted the small dirt trail. There was no road sign or gate, nothing to make this particular drive stand out above the others scattering the highway. It was the kind of place you have to know about, he thought.

  His navy police cruiser tires sunk heavy into the soft ground as they turned onto the lane. An eerie darkness spilled out in every direction, drenching the thick woods in a blanket of still blackness. No street lights, no people and no other signs of life.

  “It’s sad,” his partner peered through the window. “To think this is the last thing she ever saw.”

  “I doubt she saw much of it.”

  “You think he killed her in the house?”

  “No,” he flipped on his high-beams. “I just doubt she was awake. Drugged… maybe even beaten. This isn’t the kind of road that can handle a distracted driver.”

  A small faded green gate appeared in the light of Ryan’s headlamps. His car could go no further. This, he looked through the data and noted, was the exact same spot where Gus Greenfield came to a stop. Ryan shifted the car into ‘park’ and looked to Kit.

  The mans shoes left impressions in the damped ground as he made his way past the gate and deeper into the marsh. Kit followed closely behind, all the while likely wondering just how crazed Gus Greenfield must have been to have done something like this.

  “A little further,” she said, shining her flashlight ahead. “Be careful Ryan.”

  “I will,” he scanned the surrounding trees and waters for the slow subtle movement of gators. “Just watch for their eyes.”

  Kit Walker was a city girl, the kind unused to things like swamps, gators, snakes and tics. Her steps were careful and light, the kind of precaution generally lost on a true southerner after a childhood of swamp games and oppressive humidity.