by Jason Deas
Chief Neighbors summoned Vernon and Benny to his office. They arrived separately, but at the same time.
“What’s this about?” Benny asked as the two men neared the front door.
“I don’t know, but he was pissed.”
The tiny police department was empty. Chief Neighbors’ office door was closed. Vernon knocked. And waited.
A full minute later the door opened. A redhead in sunglasses walked out with her head pointed toward the floor. Her hair and clothes were tousled.
Vernon smirked. Benny chuckled. They walked into the office.
“Afternoon meeting?” Benny asked.
“Yes,” Chief Neighbors said, trying to tuck his shirt into his pants as he was still seated behind his desk. With his shirt tucked, he pulled at his mustache and tried to be serious. “She is the new, um, the new…”
“The new piece of ass?” Benny asked.
Chief Neighbors’ face lit up like Christmas. “Yes! And she’s a devil in sheep’s clothing. You wouldn’t believe the tricks that gal can do. My goodness!”
“You’ve got lipstick on your face, Chief,” Vernon said, pointing to the right side of his own face.
Chief Neighbors pulled open the desk drawer containing his mirror and wiped away the evidence of his fling.
“You boys are lucky,” he said closing the drawer.
“Why is that?” Vernon asked.
“Well, before the redheaded gal showed up I was absolutely furious with you two. Now I am only slightly perturbed.”
“Can I get her number for the next time we piss you off?” Benny joked.
“I put her on my speed dial,” the Chief answered, completely missing the attempt at humor.
“What were you mad about?” Vernon probed.
“I got a call a few hours ago from across the lake.”
“Oh,” Vernon said, clueing in. “Big E.”
“Yes. Big E called and yelled at me.” Chief Neighbors pouted. “He was irate.”
“Why do you care?” Benny asked. “He’s not one of your constituents, so to speak.”
“He seems to think he was being harassed in my county and I…,” Chief Neighbors searched for a lie.
“And he has a lot of money,” Vernon said.
“He’s loaded,” answered the Chief.
“And you don’t want to lose one of the biggest contributors to your re-election fund,” Benny guessed.
Chief Neighbors pulled at his mustache. “No.” He pulled some more.
“You’re a terrible liar,” Benny said.
“How do you know that? Those were secret donations.”
“Aren’t those illegal?”
“Not if they remain secret,” Chief Neighbors shot back. “We’re getting off the point here. I have my reasons for doing the things I do and this county is better for it.”
“I’ll never tell,” Benny said.
“Do tell how you knew,” Chief Neighbors pleaded.
“I’ve been around the block, Charles. I read signs and I make educated guesses.”
“So now you’re psychic?”
“Just intuitive. Would you like to tell us why Big E was so angry?”
“I was hoping you would tell me,” Chief Neighbors admitted.
“You tell him,” Benny said to Vernon.
“We caught him doing some illegal gambling.”
“In Donny’s pool?”
“You know about that, Chief?”
“I… I… just discovered it.” Chief Neighbors pulled at his mustache.
“You know we have his books,” Benny bluffed.
“Did he put my real name in those books?” Chief Neighbors yelled. He stood up and pounded his fist on the desk. “That dumb redneck!”
“Charles, Charles,” Benny calmed. “No. Stop talking. Should I call the redhead back? Everything is fine. We don’t know anything about anything,” Benny lied. “We’ll leave Big E alone. To us, he doesn’t exist. Happy?”
“Nothing said here gets out of this room,” Chief Neighbors stated.
“Nothing,” Vernon said.
“Nothing,” Benny echoed.
As Vernon and Benny walked out of his office, Chief Neighbors was punching the speed dial on his phone.
In the parking lot, Benny and Vernon decided to go to Rene’s for a drink. They heard she had reopened earlier and besides wanting a drink, they were both curious to see if it was business as usual at the café.
They walked in the restaurant to find a few customers scattered about the room. It was mid-day and usually a slow time. Benny picked his and Vernon’s favorite spot by the front window and sat down. After sitting, they spotted Angel emerging from the kitchen. As she eyed them her mouth widened into a devilish grin.
“Whatever she says is a lie,” Benny quickly said to Vernon.
Vernon shot him a confused look. “What?”
“Hello officers,” Angel said in a singsong voice.
Benny nodded and Vernon asked, “What’s with the evil smile?”
“Mr. James didn’t tell you?”
“Mr. James doesn’t give away his secrets easily.”
Angel looked at Benny playfully and raised her eyebrows.
“OK,” Benny said. “I’ll spill. When I met Angel’s mother I fainted for the first time in my life. It was hot and bright and my senses were overwhelmed by some sort of rancid chemicals she had in a jar.”
Vernon bent over in a fit of laughter. “The great FBI man faints. I’ll be damned.”
“It was much less of a faint than a loss of my senses for a few moments.”
“My mother said you were lying prostrate on the floor. I think she even said something about drool.”
“She did not!”
“I made that part up,” Angel admitted. “She did say you were awfully cute, though.”
“She did not.”
“Yeah, she really did. You should call her.”
Benny was not used to blushing, but he did.
“What can I get you guys?” Angel asked, changing the subject.
“Two Buds.”
“Two beers coming up.” Angel walked away from the table.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” Benny warned.
“About what? The fainting or Angel’s mom having the hots for you?”
“Neither.”
“What’s she look like?”
“Don’t want to talk about it.”
“It might help you forget Rachael.” Benny gave him a look. “OK. Let’s change the subject.”
“Thanks.”
“I was able to rustle up a good picture of our first victim,” Vernon said. He pulled the photo out of his pocket and showed it to Benny.
“That looks like him all right, minus all the slashes I last saw him with. What do you know about him?”
“He’s not from around here. I’m still working on the rest.”
“Let me know when you uncover some more.”
“So, how are we going to put the screws to Big E without the Chief knowing about it?”
“We’ll have to be sneaky. We’ll have to lie to him about what we’re doing, and we’ll also have to make sure Big E doesn’t see us snooping around him or find out we’re checking him out.”
“Why do you think he had mud on the front of his boat?”
“Good question,” Benny said rubbing his chin.
Angel arrived with two Budweiser bottles, set them on the table, and scurried off without a word.
“I can’t picture Big E hopping out of a boat on one of the islands, can you?” Vernon asked.
“I can’t imagine his fat ass hopping at all.”
“Maybe it’s not his boat,” Vernon suggested.
“Let’s find out. When you took the photo, did you get the identification number on the side of the boat?”
“Yep.”
“Run it when you get back to the office and we’ll go from there.”
As both men were about to touch their bottles to their lips, Vernon’s cel
l phone rang and they both paused.
“Officer Kearns,” he said and listened. “Dammit. On my way,” he said standing.
Benny stood as well. “What?”
“More bloody art.”
“Where?”
“The Police Department.”
Chapter 9
Tilley’s Police Department was the size of a gas station—a small one. It had an office for Chief Neighbors, an oversized closet used as an interrogation room, another closet-sized room to store property, and one more small area with a long counter that separated a few desks and a waiting area.
On top of the counter sat a welded compilation of rusted auto parts. The sculpture looked like a candle holder, but instead of a candle there was a finger. A single, bloody finger.
“Chief!” Vernon yelled.
“I’m in here,” Chief Neighbors yelled from behind his office door.
Vernon walked into his office and as usual, whenever anything involving blood happened, Chief Neighbors was pale and nursing a Sprite.
“Don’t say it,” Chief Neighbors said looking at Benny.
“Why did you get into this line of work?” Benny asked.
“This kind of thing is not supposed to happen here,” the Chief tried.
“You should have been anything else,” Benny snapped.
“Just tell us what happened,” Vernon said.
“I was really upset after you guys left and I called an old friend to come down and comfort me. She calmed me down, and when she went to leave and walked out the door I heard her scream. I ran to the door and saw the candle thing and called you guys.”
“Where’s Officer Mandelino?” Vernon asked.
“He’s off doing some things you asked him, I believe.”
“And you didn’t hear anything?” Benny asked. “Isn’t there a bell on the front door you can hear if your office door is closed?”
“Yes,” Chief Neighbors answered.
“Did you hear it go off a few minutes ago?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Benny asked.
“I figured it was one of you guys. And I was busy being comforted.”
“Oh for Chrissake,” Benny said. “Did you hear anything out of the ordinary?”
Chief Neighbors just looked at Benny. Benny’s face turned red and his brain started to spin. He knew he should not say what he was thinking, but his anger trumped his common sense and he screamed, “How in the hell do you win re-election every four years? You are an incompetent boob and Vernon could do your job with both of his eyes closed and his hands tied behind his back.”
“I don’t want your job, boss,” Vernon tried. Vernon looked at Benny and shook his head trying to tell him to cool it.
Benny caught the communication and took a few deep breaths. “I’m sorry, Chief. I know you can’t forget what I said, but I would like to take it back. This is just pissing me off. I came to Tilley to retire and get away from all of this madness, and it just seems to follow me around.”
“Why don’t we all just forget our personal differences and try to solve this case,” Vernon suggested.
“Great idea,” Benny said.
“I agree,” Chief Neighbors said.
“So,” Vernon started, “we have another sick piece of art we’re supposed to figure out. Who has any ideas?”
The men all stared at the rusted sculpture holding the finger.
“It’s made out of auto parts,” Chief Neighbors said holding his hand in front of his face like he was shielding the sun from his eyes.
“What are you doing?” Benny asked.
“If I hold my hand like this, I can’t see the bloody finger and I won’t throw up.”
“We should put that on your re-election posters,” Benny said.
“Benny!” Vernon cautioned.
“Sorry,” Benny said. “Great technique, Chief.”
“Can we just assume there is a dead body that goes with this finger?” Vernon asked Benny.
“Definitely. Does it look like a man’s or a woman’s finger?”
Chief Neighbors held his mouth and ran into his office slamming the door behind him.
“You upset him on purpose,” Vernon said.
“Please don’t take up for him. Let’s get a closer look at this,” Benny said inching closer. “Tell me what you see,” he instructed.
“OK.” Vernon took a closer look. “I can tell by the discolored skin that the finger was removed from the body at least 24 hours ago.”
“Good,” Benny said nodding his head with approval. “What about the blood dripping down and around the finger?”
“It must have been added recently. It definitely did not come from this finger as the tissue looks dried. It seems to be a poor attempt to fool whoever they thought would find this into thinking this just happened. I would guess this happened yesterday or the day before and someone was just waiting for the right time to place this for us to find.”
“Good. I agree with everything you’ve said. Make sure we find out if the blood dripping over and around the finger matches the blood type inside the finger. I suspect it does, but if it doesn’t, we might have another new problem.”
“So where’s our clue?” Vernon asked. “How does this lead us to a body?”
“I don’t know.”
“Isn’t that what our killer wants? He wants us to find a body from this clue?”
“I think so. So, let’s look at his pattern so far—even though it is only one murder, I always assume there’s a pattern. What’s the pattern?”
“In the last murder he used numbers. He used the number four in the painting, and the body was found on site number four of the Talking Pines Campground.”
“So, if we are going by that thesis, what number do we have here?”
Vernon looked at the finger sticking into the air and it hit him. “Number one!”
“I think so,” Benny agreed. “I don’t think he would use the campground again, but we might as well check there first.”
“I believe site number one is actually visible from the check-in station, so I highly doubt the body will be there, but I’ll send a deputy by to check it out.”
“What else has the number one attached to it around here?”
“Well, none of the roads do besides the mile markers.”
“Put that on the list for the deputies to check.”
“Is there an address in town you can think of that has a one in it that might stand out?”
“No. I think everything starts at one hundred and goes up from there. The slips at your marina are numbered, aren’t they?”
Benny’s face fell. “I’m number one.”
“I think you would have noticed a dead body when you left this morning.”
“This nasty bastard could have moved it to my boat since then.”
“I didn’t get the feeling that this was anything personal against you, did you?”
“No, but I have put a lot of people in prison and somebody could be looking for revenge.”
“Possible,” Vernon said. “I just don’t get that feeling. Why don’t you go check it out real quick while I take care of this crime scene.”
“That would make me feel better.”
“On your way back, will you swing by the One Stop and pick up a Dr. Pepper for me?”
Benny was already headed for the door and jerked his head back.
“That’s it!”
“What?”
“Think about what you just said.”
Vernon thought. “The One Stop!”
“It has to be. Think about the sign.”
“You’re right. It has a hand with one finger pointing in the air next to the words.”
As Benny ran out the door, Vernon called, “I still want a Dr. Pepper!”
The One Stop was a fairly seedy establishment with a revolving door of employees. It had all your gas station essentials plus a few extras. Benny felt certain the slot machines in the back room were illegal. He
also marveled at the wide selection of adult magazines offered behind the counter and the glass case displaying water bongs and pipes in plain view accompanied by a sign that read, “For Tobacco Use Only.” The inside of the station always smelled like cigarette smoke and incense.
Unfortunately for Benny, it was the closest store to the Sleepy Cove Marina and sometimes out of necessity he had to stop in and buy something. The employees always gave him the creeps, and he oftentimes wondered where the owner found them. The average employee lasted about four months before they quit because of burnout and the long hours or were fired for stealing or some other impropriety.
Benny entered the store to find a new face behind the counter, and he immediately sized him up as an alcoholic or drug user. The clerk was an older man with wispy gray hair and a beard which had not been cut or trimmed in quite some time. He had the look of someone who didn’t want to look completely disheveled, but still did. As Benny neared he smelled strong body odor mixed with stale cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. Benny gave him his best fake smile. When the clerk returned it with a fake one of his own he spotted a mouth full of yellow and at least two missing teeth.
“How you doing this afternoon?” Benny asked.
The clerk coughed up some phlegm and cleared his throat as he muttered, “Hanging.”
“Hanging,” Benny repeated. “Like hanging in there?”
“Yeah. You being smart with me?”
“No. I just wasn’t too sure what you meant.”
“What do you need?”
“I need to take a look around,” Benny said watching his eyes.
“What are you looking for?”
“I’ll know it when I see it.”
The clerk’s eyes twitched, and he studied Benny as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep.
“Well, look on then,” he said as his hands started to fidget. He scratched his face nervously and pulled a pack of Camels out of his dirty shirt pocket. With a trembling hand he put one in his mouth and lit it.
“I’ve been around the block a time or two,” the clerk told Benny.
“I can tell.”
“And I can tell you’re the law.”
Benny flashed him his credentials.
“Oh, Jesus.”
“Calm down,” Benny said holding out his hand.
“I don’t know anything about the video slots and poker machines in the back. If the customers win, they have to come back when the boss is here for the payout. I swear. And the pipes and bongs, I know people buy them to smoke grass, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”