Fifteen Coffins

by Tony J. Forder

  ‘This would be Dylan Cole and Mitchell Copping, right?’ Benton said. He slid Sydney a sidelong glance, which she caught. Her pulse began to race.

  The boy nodded.

  ‘You seen either of those two boys since you were shot?’

  ‘No. I’m not back at school yet. I start a week on Monday.’ He touched a hand to the protective wadding on his face. ‘By then I’m hoping to have this off, and maybe people will find me interesting because of my scar.’

  ‘Why are you asking about those boys?’ Mary said, eyes narrowing as she set down the iced tea she had picked up only seconds before. ‘Nate told you Kevin Muller had no reason to try and murder him. If that’s what even happened. He’s who pulled the trigger, so what difference does it make what these other boys think or did? Are you saying they may have put the Muller kid up to it?’

  Benton Lowe raised a hand, palm facing the woman whose voice was becoming shrill. ‘Hey, hold on there, Mary. I’m not saying anything of the kind. I’m asking questions is all. There are a lot of people who would still like an explanation for what happened that day, and I mean beyond the fact that a slightly odd kid turned his mind and efforts to slaughter. We’re exploring possibilities here, that’s all.’

  Sydney was grateful to him for stamping out the fire he’d started.

  Mrs Rains closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. ‘I apologise, Sheriff Lowe. My feelings are raw still, if you know what I mean.’

  ‘I do, Mary. Believe me, I was there and I understand perfectly.’

  Her eyes dropped as if she suddenly remembered the sheriff had been one of the officers to have shot Kevin Muller dead that fateful day.

  ‘I hear this paralysis is going to be only temporary, is that right?’ Sydney had been listening intently as she finished her drink. She spoke up, hoping to turn the conversation around. Benton had updated her on the boy’s condition during the drive over.

  ‘That’s what we’re told,’ Nate replied.

  His mother nodded eagerly, beaming at her son. ‘The surgeon assures us that the wound to the spine itself will heal, and that the paralysis is caused by trauma to specific nerves along the cord. Nate is on medication which will help ease this, and as the nerves react, more and more feeling should return.’

  ‘That’s an amazing prognosis when you consider what happened.’

  ‘It sure is. And I thank the Lord for that every day, I can tell you.’

  Sydney remembered how Mary Sandford had been a regular churchgoer along with her family. Not at all pious, and not one to preach, Mary had her beliefs and held to them no matter what. Not a girl Sydney had spent a great deal of time with, and certainly not as friends, but someone she had seen around school and liked. She wondered how Mary would feel if she learned precisely what she and Benton were searching for here. And that if they were unable to find their answers elsewhere, would return to delve deeper still.

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘I’m going to pile on some real weight if I keep eating pie,’ Sydney complained while forking the last piece of her slice into her mouth.

  By the time she and Benton arrived at Bob’s, the diner was all out of boysenberry, but the apple and strawberry combination was delicious. A good way to end a frustrating afternoon.

  Benton laughed at her. ‘I bet you don’t tip the scales at more than a few pounds heavier than you did back in school.’

  Sydney tilted her head, wondering if her friend was having fun at her expense. But his expression looked genuine enough. She bit into the chunk of pie and snorted. ‘I hate to disappoint you and spoil the memory, but believe me, if I had any clothes left over from those days they wouldn’t fit me anymore. Even my curves have curves.’

  ‘Sure. But in all the right places.’

  ‘Now I know you’re full of BS. Why the sweet talk, Doc? Sounds to me as if you’re getting ready to set me up for a fall.’

  He raised his eyebrows and let them drop again. ‘You always could read me like a book, Syd.’

  ‘Uh-huh. And not a very enlightened one, either. So, what’s up?’

  Benton sighed before responding, shifting sideways and stretching a leg along the bench seat. ‘I’m trying real hard to remain detached from this whole Muller theory, Syd. I still have my own opinions, and they’re rock solid. I’m open to yours, and I’m following your train of thought, your progression of logic. Heck, I’m even understanding Dexter’s way of thinking. But what I’m not seeing, what I’m not hearing or finding so far, is any hard evidence proving our closed case wrong.’

  Sydney wiped her lips with a paper serviette. Breathed through her nose and settled herself. ‘This may surprise you, but I agree with you on that point, Ben. I’ve yet to come across anything solid, either. That doesn’t mean it’s not out there, and it certainly doesn’t suggest we won’t find it eventually. I know you have to focus on actual proof because it’s the only thing that’s going to formally open the investigation again. But how’s your radar doing? Those spidey-senses of yours pinging at all?’

  Running a hand across his chin, Benton said, ‘I can’t honestly say they’re not. Fact is, Syd, I wouldn’t be here if that weren’t the case. But you’ve worked in law-enforcement as long as I have, and you know there are times when the juices flow in completely the wrong direction for no apparent reason. You convince yourself you’re on the right path. Every indication says it’s so. Then the world turns on its axis and you realise you’ve been looking at it ass backwards the whole time.’

  Before entering the diner, Benton had shown Sydney footage of the Dave Tabbert interview on his cellphone. He had asked a deputy to send it across in a mail, and the two of them had sat side by side in her truck as they watched the janitor provide his statement. Sydney immediately recognised the man from their exchange in the school parking lot. A large and overly aggressive man when he spoke, Tabbert had the furtive look of a caged animal about him right from the word go. Neither Benton nor Isaac had needed to set traps for him, as he was oblivious to any of the contradictions his story contained. Even when they pointed out to him that he had been on the far side of the school when he was supposedly walking past the art supplies room, Tabbert appeared nonplussed by their scepticism.

  Sydney had not asked to review the video a second time. The man was all bluster and bullshit. All the footage did was to remind her how Benton had hidden behind his star witness, and the memory irked her all over again.

  ‘So you still think you’re right and I’m wrong?’ she demanded through tight lips.

  ‘I didn’t say that. You’ve forced me to see things I missed first time around, had me consider what I thought to be true in a completely different light. But the way I see it, if you’d been there that day you’d be thinking Kevin Muller was the trigger man, too. You don’t witness something like that and then ask yourself if your eyes and brain were playing tricks on you.’

  Huffing her frustration, Sydney said, ‘I get that. I had the benefit of coming into this with a fresh eye. Not in the least bit jaundiced. I don’t have any of those same mental images running through my head. Difference is, you see that as a negative, while I regard it as a positive thing.’

  Benton tried reeling things back in. He admitted that they were unlikely to ever see eye to eye on Muller’s innocence, but he also pointed out that he was there with her, taking a fresh and closer look at the whole incident all over again, digging into it as much as he was able to without drawing unwanted attention.

  ‘If I even manage to get away with that,’ he concluded.

  Sydney peered inquisitively at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Word has a habit of getting around. Certain people find out I’m fraternising with the enemy, could be they sit me down and try talking some sense into me.’

  Sydney’s heart beat faster. ‘So now I’m the enemy? Raised here in Moon Falls since I was a kid, but people think of me as the enemy?’

  ‘Hey, it’s just a word. And I used the wrong one. I’m sorry.’<
br />
  But she saw beyond that. Saw the truth. ‘No, Ben. It’s the word you’ve clearly already heard or expect to hear, and in this particular case it’s appropriate. That is how people in this town are going to regard me.’

  ‘Some will. For how long depends on how things turn out, I guess.’

  Sydney sighed, her resolve faltering. ‘Am I crazy, Ben? Am I putting my determination to do the right thing for Dexter and Kevin Muller ahead of leaving Moon Falls to finish mourning its loss and overcome its grief?’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m the best person to be asking. I’m on the other side, remember?’

  ‘I think what I’m wondering is whether there are two sides to this, or only the one. We all learn as we grow older that the truth can often hurt, but that doesn’t stop it being the truth. There can’t be two sides to the same truth, can there?’

  Benton was about to reply when he looked up behind Sydney and rolled his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, but I think you’re about to find out for yourself,’ he said in voice so low it was almost inaudible.

  ‘Is that you, Sydney Merlot?’ came a loud cry from the front of the diner. Other customers turned and pricked up their ears.

  Snapping her eyes closed, Sydney uttered a single hushed word. ‘Shit!’

  Without waiting for an invitation, a slim and willowy blonde woman slid into the booth alongside Sydney. Her wide smile was stuck on full beam, all teeth and pouting collagen-injected lips. Unnaturally brown and shiny, the exposed flesh on her arms and legs was taut and toned, silky and smooth, glowing with vitality. If ever a high school teen was destined to be voted girl most likely to devote herself to herself, it had been Alanis Foley.

  ‘Hey, Al,’ Sydney managed to say without bringing back up her pie filling. ‘It’s been a while. How are you doing?’

  The blonde’s smile thinned. ‘It’s Alanis, Syd. You know that. You’ve always known that. And I’m doing fine, hon.’

  ‘Of course. And it’s Sydney to you, Alanis. Always has been.’

  There was neither humour nor affection in those bright blue eyes staring back at Sydney. Even the colouring of her irises was fake, tinted by contacts. ‘I heard you were in town again and I told myself I must hunt you down this time. Always could find you here in the diner stuffing yourself with pie.’

  ‘Damn straight,’ Sydney shot back, nodding and offering an equally false grin in return. ‘And how’s the rabbit food diet going these days?’

  Alanis giggled and swept her hands down as if presenting herself as a gift. ‘As you can plainly see for yourself, I’ve managed to keep myself trim. I’d feel so terribly bloated and ugly if I put on even a few pounds.’

  ‘Funny,’ Benton interjected, ‘Only seconds ago I was telling Sydney how she looks every bit as good as she did the day we left high school.’

  Sydney thanked him with her eyes while Alanis pretended to appraise her. ‘Nothing a few less pastries wouldn’t cure,’ she said, fluttering false curling eyelashes that sat on her lids like little black spiders. She prodded the air in his direction with a manicured glossy nail. ‘But then, as I recall, you were always chasing this girl, Benton. Not that she put up too much of a fight when boys were around.’

  ‘Did you pop over to exchange insults or was there something specific you wanted to talk about?’ Sydney asked, already tired of the woman and fast running out of patience with her.

  Alanis Foley had left education to concentrate on training to be a beautician. Less than a year into the job, she got lucky when putting a face mask on a client who happened to edit a magazine based out of Sacramento. She made Alanis an offer – coming up with a monthly column featuring beauty tips. From there it was only a short hop to having her own weekly gossip page, which in turn became a YouTube feature and then a channel complete with subscribers and advertisements. It not only turned Alanis into a minor modern day celebrity, it slaked her thirst for drama. And she had plenty of dirt to dish living in and around the quad-town area.

  ‘Oh, Sydney… Syd. It’s been far too long, and there is so much we need to catch up on. I’m sure the sheriff here has some work to do.’

  Benton cleared his throat. ‘You see me wearing a uniform, Alanis? No. And you know why, Alanis? Because I don’t dress formally when not on duty. So, I’m not Sheriff Lowe today, I’m plain old Benton. And I don’t have a damn thing else to be doing with my time at the moment.’

  Alanis shot back a predatory grin and raised her eyebrows. ‘Is that so? Well, I’m sure your dear, sweet wife sitting at home will be overjoyed to hear that, Benton. Your darling children, too. How tolerant of them to be happy in the knowledge that their father prefers spending his day off with an old flame rather than in the bosom of his beloved family.’

  ‘Oh, my goodness,’ Sydney said, cutting through the growing tension. ‘Is there finally something you don’t know, Alanis?’

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’ The woman snapped her head around, her full attention back on Sydney.

  ‘Kathy and I are the best of friends. Benton introduced me to his lovely wife many years ago, and she and I have become close. In fact, when I was still grieving for my father, it was Kathy who comforted me most of all. It was she who suggested Ben and I spent time together catching up.’

  That perfect smile faltered for the first time. Her deep red lips quivered momentarily. Alanis Foley didn’t often find herself speechless, but this was one such occasion. Sydney did not enjoy telling lies, but in this case the words tasted delicious.

  ‘You’re right, Sydney. I was not aware of that.’

  ‘That’s fine. Don’t beat yourself up over it. Something was bound to slip through your talons eventually.’

  Sydney saw the final twinkle in Alanis’s eyes fade and die. They narrowed only slightly, but it was enough for them to become austere. They contained spite to match the poison that dripped so readily from her tongue.

  ‘I’ll tell you one thing that has not escaped my attention, Sydney Merlot,’ Alanis sneered, recovering quickly. ‘A little bird told me you are here rooting around in our dirt. The way I hear it, you have chosen to side against your own town and its people in favour of that freak, Dexter Muller.’

  Sydney gave her sweetest smile. ‘Is that so? Then I’d suggest your little bird is more of a canary in a coalmine. See, I haven’t chosen to side with Dexter and against Moon Falls. In fact, if anyone came out and said that to my face, I’d sue them for slander. After I’d slapped them across the face, that is. And if they were too chicken shit to risk that and instead put it in writing, I’d sue them for libel. Because the truth is, Al, the only thing I am siding with is the truth.’

  ‘I don’t believe that’s necessarily how other people will see it. I can’t speak for all of them, of course, but those I have discussed it with so far are terribly concerned about you and your interference.’

  ‘And I’m sure you’re doing nothing to stamp out those flames.’

  ‘Why, Sydney. Whatever do you mean?’

  Sydney wanted to laugh. Alanis reminded her of a southern belle in some old black-and-white movie, fanning her face having been shocked by some minor indiscretion. She turned in her seat to face the woman the girl she had always despised had become.

  ‘Al, you get your kicks provoking a reaction. The only thing you enjoy more than gossip is your own reflection – as phoney as it is – and you don’t care if your particular brand of vitriol carries no truth in it. You regard everybody else with contempt, and you put down as many people as you can possibly fit into your busy schedule. You leave misery and mayhem in your wake, and far from being horrified and ashamed, you get a cheap and tawdry thrill from it. You’re a stick insect in a dress two sizes too small for you, two inches too short for you, and twenty years too young for you. You’re a parasite, Al. You thrive on sucking up people’s personal pain and spewing it all out again in public. If I had my way, I’d sew up that trout-pout of yours, keep you away from the Botox, then lock you up in a hall of mirrors and let you se
e yourself for what you truly are. Now, are we done with the pleasantries?’

  Moments later, Alanis Foley having fled from the diner in a flurry of tanned limbs and cuss words, Benton was still sitting at the booth with his mouth hanging open. Sydney flapped a hand at him. ‘You know you’ll stay like that if the wind changes, right?’

  He shook his head and struggled to find the right words. ‘I just… I mean… that was… heck, Syd, I don’t think that woman would have been torn apart more had you tossed her into a wood chipper. I’ve never seen anybody flayed alive using only a tongue.’

  ‘Who needs a weapon, right?’

  ‘In your case, I’d say that was true.’

  ‘You telling me she didn’t deserve it?’ Sydney glanced around the diner to see that she had become the focus of attention. And while it had not been her objective, neither did she have any regrets.

  Benton held up his hands in mock surrender. ‘Not at all. Firstly, having witnessed that stripping of a personality down to the bare bones as if a piranha had been here with us, I’m not about to argue with you any time soon. And secondly, knowing exactly what a bitter and venomous bitch she can be, I’d say Alanis had it coming.’

  Sydney nodded. ‘I hope her attitude is not indicative of the encounters I’m going to have the longer this goes on. You think that’s how everybody is going to react?’

  ‘No chance. That woman is a one off. Some people are going to be unhappy with you. That’s a given, and you were fully aware of how it would be. I’m ashamed to say I acted that way myself for a while. Others will take it for what it is and leave you to get on with it.’

  ‘Still, Alanis made her point.’

  ‘She did?’

  ‘Sure. People are talking, Doc. And I don’t think either of us are going to like what they’re saying.’

  Benton nodded. ‘You may be right about that. But you had to be expecting some flak coming your way.’

  ‘Naturally. Although not quite so soon. I thought I had more time.’