by Jay Jackson
Newt smiled at Delroy.
“I know how to lay low. You don’t have to worry about that. Wonder who else they’re going to lean on, though. Didn’t your niece find Millie’s ear in the cave?”
“That was my nephew.” Delroy didn’t like the fact that someone like Newt was aware of Meg’s existence, although he realized he would be.
“My thirteen year old, jailbait niece was with her brother when he found the ear, and that’s the end of what they know.”
“Maybe you’re right, Delroy. But those guys from last night, they’re going to have to answer a lot of questions. They can’t leave things undone. They might even want to talk to you. I imagine the sheriff, after he starts to run into some walls on this case, is going to start asking deeper questions of y’all, too. He’ll have to.” Newt knew about harassment from law enforcement. It was price of being who he was.
Delroy knew that Newt was right. Something had to be done to take care of Meg and Peck. Maybe they were okay, but Delroy couldn’t be sure. He was supposed to pick Peck up for baseball practice around 3:00 P.M. He was going to be considerably earlier than that today, and there would be no practice.
Poor Peck, that kid just has no luck.
Kero came back in with three mugs of coffee, and Delroy took a sip of his. It was black and a little bitter, and did nothing to ebb the throbbing in his head. Bad coffee is no way to start a day, he thought, and neither is company with bad news so early in the damn morning.
12.
Cozette
Cozette’s House of Bargains had served downtown Gratis for over fifteen years. The proprietor, Cozette Dillard, opened the store when she was only nineteen. At its entrance she placed a wooden abomination of a toad, perched on its hindlegs, smiling a barky grin to all who entered.
If a person wanted an oil painting of Sam Cooke or Jesus, he would go to Cozette’s. If kids needed wall-pops or candy, Cozette’s had them. Whatever the need, Cozette always met it at a bargain. She could undersell even the largest superstore because she had no compunction regarding expiration dates. Her aisles were a good dumping ground for old products. Children knew their chocolate bar may be a little harder and cracked if they got it at Cozette’s, but they also knew they could afford a coke and a pack of gum, too. Homemakers stretched their household dollars at Cozette’s as well. Old Rinso was just as good as new Ajax.
The aisles were swept but had the grimy dust on the edges that old stores were made of. Although the shelves were loosely organized with like goods piled together, one might find lawn darts while looking for week old Krispy Kreme donuts. These attributes, however, were not the main draw for Gratisians to keep coming back year after year.
Cozette’s people were hoodoo folk, and her mother, Odette, was the most prominent root doctor in the county. When she was growing up, they lived in the Neck in a single wide trailer, hidden by brambles and live oaks from the dirt road that wound in front. In that trailer she learned that even the most sophisticated people would spend good money on supernatural assistance. Everyone wanted an advantage. Many Monday mornings folks would find chicken bones and feathers at their front door, evidence of the hex put on them by Odette the night before.
Cozette didn’t believe in hoodoo, but she knew a product that could market itself. When she first opened the store she found a supplier of small bottles of elixirs out of south Alabama. They purported to assist users in various endeavors.
Card players would get Lucky Gambler elixirs, adulterers would get Forgiveness elixirs, and so on depending on the need. Cozette, being a natural entrepreneur, cut out the middle man and started making the elixirs herself. She contracted with a plant in Albany and bottled her own line of mystical, hoodoo-based liquids. She called them “The Root Doctor’s Own.”
She was able to secure large batches of off-quality men’s colognes which, along with distilled water, made up the ingredients for her potions. With their high alcohol content they would last. People lost faith in potions that smelled sour after a few weeks. Her personal favorite was Aqua Velva, as it was the easiest to acquire. She also used English Leather when it was available, and got favorable comments on a batch made from an eleven year old stock of Hai Karate.
The people who used these potions wanted some ritual to accompany them. Cozette made one up and printed it on the back of each bottle. It read, “Pour into tub of bathwater, get into the tub and anoint top of head. Pour tub water into bucket and mop hearth of home while reciting the 23rd Psalm. Open third eye and concentrate on object of desire. Be with God. Love the spirits.” After a couple of years she modified the instructions to include showering in regular water after bathing. Too many women were casting spells before a date and getting rejected for smelling like their dad’s cologne.
A few hours after his meeting with Kero and Newt, Delroy walked into Cozette’s. He loved the place. It felt like authentic Gratis to him, like a little of the town that existed before the new developments changed it. He bought every type of elixir Cozette sold, although he didn’t believe in hoodoo. They were Gratis’ folk art and their labels spoke more about the town’s people than any history book could.
He also came here to talk to Cozette when he needed information. He liked her and trusted her. They knew each other for years and both recognized a real native when they saw one. She also knew more about what was happening in town than just about anyone. People talked to Cozette and she was smart enough to listen.
Today, Delroy came seeking the biggest favor he had ever asked of anyone.
“What’s wrong with you, Delroy?” Cozette saw the worry hanging on him like a cheap jacket.
“Cozette, I need your help. Can we go to your back room?”
There, Delroy recounted his early morning visit with Kero and Newt. Cozette already knew about everything else.
“Cozette, this thing is going to get hot. Knox won’t care who gets hurt. I can’t say that I blame him, but I’m worried about my nephew and niece. I wonder if you’d be willing to take them for a while, just until I figure out whether anyone is going to want to do anything to them. I know it’s a lot, but I’m worried as hell.”
Cozette considered his request, looking at the worn man in front of her. I ought to say no, she thought.
“Delroy, I’ll take those kids. You’re going to owe me, though.”
“Cozette, anything you need, you’ve got. There’s nothing more important to me than those two, and I can’t tell you what your help means to me. When can I bring them?”
“Bring them by river over to my place later this afternoon. I’ll have my brother drive you back home and we’ll keep the boat. The roads might not be such good place for the kids right now, and you might want to leave through the back door. I don’t want to start lying to Tommy until I have to. Don’t worry about any others sniffing around. I know how to take care of them.” She kept a shotgun under the counter for overly curious types.
Delroy left and went to get the children ready. He knew Meg and Peck would be safe at Cozette’s but dreaded taking them from their mother. Delroy loved them but Anna lived for them. He was in for a day of tears but, if it meant their safety, Anna would finally let them go.
He got to Anna’s and told to her what he wanted to do. She asked him to explain why over and over, not wanting the answers he gave. In the end, though, she trusted him, and gathered the children’s things. Since they were going in the johnboat she only packed one suitcase.
After alternately hugging them, and asking again why they needed to leave, Anna finally let the children go. She smiled and waved to her babies as they left, watching them float away through a thin veil of tears. Finally, as they rounded the first bend in the river, they lost sight of her.
The children were quiet as they drifted away from home. The bird cries and fishtail slaps around them were brought into tempo by the constant croaking of frogs. The boat’s small motor hummed underneath. Delroy looked at his niece and nephew and wondered how the world had brought them
here. One night he’s having a drink and debating about which kid to play at shortstop on Peck’s team. Now, this mess.
Life. He hated how random it kept proving itself. One couldn’t do enough planning to keep it all from falling apart. Loving is just heartache, nothing more, he thought. How do I keep these two from breaking?
They entered the section of the Bird where it ran a bit faster and the south bank became a bramble opening into the Neck. There the swamp sapped the river. It never regained its full strength before joining another river nearer the coast. Here the Bird reminded him of his clients, those with demons too strong to beat. It reminded him of himself.
Off this broken river Delroy steered the johnboat forward. He pointed it down one of the small branches that broke away and led to Cozette’s. The water, stained dark with tannins, reflected a black sun, and his neck and ears turned red. Delroy kept looking ahead, keeping one eye on the channel and one on his charges.
They drifted down several smaller channels until Delroy caught sight of Cozette’s dock. Thank God, he thought, and steered his sad group until the water met the land. Cozette was there to meet him with a pack of at least ten dogs.
“Shut up boys. Leave these folks alone!” She yelled at the pack.
Delroy and the children got out of the boat. “Cozette, these are your newest houseguests. Kids, what do we say to Miss Cozette?”
“Hello Miss Cozette,” they both mumbled. Peck stared at the ground while Meg managed a weak smile.
“Well, hello to y’all. We are going to have so much fun. My brother stays with me, and we’re both glad to have you. Now go on inside and put your things away.”
The two walked up to the house, Peck dragging the suitcase. Delroy started to say thanks but Cozette cut him short.
“Keep your words to yourself. Just hope this thing doesn’t go through the summer. Like you said, you’re gonna owe me. The longer they stay the more it’ll be. You better keep an eye on that, Delroy, because I ain’t cheap.”
With that Cozette turned and walked toward the house. Delroy followed, wondering how much this summer would cost him in the end. He would pay it, that he was sure of, whatever it cost.
13.
The Lean
Days after Millie’s funeral the Proclaimer came out with a front page different from any before. It exclusively covered the life and death of Millicent Knox, lauding her works and accomplishments. It also exalted her family, reminding everyone what the Knox family meant to the community. This was to be expected. The murder and funeral were the biggest news to hit Gratis in decades.
The most noticeable change to the paper was that Johnnie’s column, previously on page seven in the Local Lifestyles section, was now on the front page. Johnnie easily convinced the editor that the paper needed to take a stand in the matter of the Millicent Knox murder investigation. Her column would lead the way.
Johnnie put down her gossip and picked up her cause. She would not rest until someone paid for Millie’s death and intended not to let anyone else rest, either.
“Today, friends, I put Lee’s Little Secrets down. Every secret is indeed little, and not worthy of my time or yours, until we find the horrible person who murdered my dear, best friend, Ms. Millicent Knox. I will keep vigilant, asking questions, making sure that our local law enforcement doesn’t rest until her killer is shackled. There will be no such thing as “all leads have been exhausted.” This is a wound that time itself cannot begin to heal until justice prevails. If anyone knows anything, or has any information, all you have to do is call me. The information will get into the rights hands, and those hands will get busy.”
“Unfortunately, the Sheriff has still not made an arrest, and it is my understanding that private investigators have been assaulted when making inquiries. Believe it or not, the assaulters have yet to be arrested by this Sheriff’s Office, which is rather puzzling. Why would our own Sheriff impede justice? Remember, Sheriff, Millicent was a daughter of this town, and this town loves its daughters. We will be safe. God bless you all, and I will keep you informed.” She signed off without a catchphrase and retitled her article “For Millicent.” When Johnnie committed she was all in.
What horseshit, Tommy thought after he read the column. He never liked Johnnie. It riled him that this woman held so much sway in his hometown.
He knew about the fight that occurred at Daddy Jack’s. Kero told him about it the day after it happened. He had known Kero all his life. He ran an establishment that by and large observed the law. Tommy would go there himself if he wasn’t the high sheriff.
Still, Tommy’s summer was getting hotter every day. Franklin Knox was thoroughly raising hell about someone getting arrested, and Johnnie was killing him in the paper. Even worse, quasi-legalized thugs were roaming the town not so much asking questions as demanding answers. Tommy had not survived as sheriff this long without getting others to help when he needed them. That’s why he scheduled a meeting with Delroy for later that morning. Tommy needed help and needed it right now.
Delroy knew most of the criminals in town, and they told him things they wouldn’t tell anyone else. If Delroy asked questions of his former clients about Millie’s murder, he might get answers. Tommy knew politics and people. If you leaned hard enough, people would do things that surprised them. Tommy knew how to lean. It was just a matter of finding a weak point and attacking it. Delroy’s weak point was family. He would fight for his family, rabidly. Tommy believed Delroy would compromise his integrity for them as well.
He was looking forward to talking to Delroy. He didn’t hate him so much as find him smug and self-righteous. Delroy had a way of talking down to a person and Tommy wouldn’t be talked down to. He anticipated Delroy’s face when he gave him the choice between either betraying a confidence or his niece and nephew being detained as material witnesses.
I’ll wipe the smug look right off his face, he thought.
Tommy was ready to make this threat, although he didn’t know if he was willing to follow through. He was sure those children were in the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing more. He also knew that he was starting to feel the squeeze. He might not follow up, but he didn’t know.
Tommy finished his third cup of coffee that morning when his secretary told him Delroy was there. He contemplated what he was about to do.
This is a dirty, dirty business. I should probably be ashamed.
He got up, walked to the door, and prepared to turn the screw. In the lobby he saw Delroy, sitting by himself, looking at his watch. You better look at your watch, Tommy mused, because it’s time to do your civic duty. Smiling at the thought, he escorted Delroy to his office.
14.
An Early Triple
Delroy drove to Daddy Jack’s after meeting with Tommy. It was just short of eleven in the morning, and he found Kero in the back alley dumping trash from the night before.
Delroy looked as angry as Kero had ever seen him. Before he could say anything Kero shooed him inside to the bar. Once there he poured Delroy a tall glass of Jack Daniels over ice and gave him a beer to ease it down.
Delroy took a couple of long sips. The chill of the air-conditioning hitting his bare arms felt good after coming out of the morning heat. He always liked this place and that Kero knew exactly what to pour when he needed a drink.
“Kero, you know where Newt is? I have to talk to him.” Delroy took another long sip.
“You know I do. What’s going on that you’re drinking your last call triple before lunch time?”
“Had me a long talk with Tommy this morning. He implied that he was going to consider Meg and Peck as two prime suspects until he found some others. I told him to go to hell, and that I’d beat his ass and shove his badge up it in the meantime. Then I left. Thing is, I can’t let those children go to the YDC. It’s nothing more than a jail for kids, and would kill them and their mother. Looks like I’m going to start doing my own investigation of the Millie Knox murder.”
“Well, what
do you want with Newt? You know he didn’t do it.”
Kero felt ill with Delroy. He wouldn’t turn on Newt but he let Tommy shake him. Of course, Kero didn’t know what he would do if someone threatened any of his seven children. Kill them, probably. He did know that he was going to look for someone to run against Tommy in the next election. This threatening of children, along with looking the other way when thugs roughed people up, was just flat wrong.
“Newt knows more about Millie than he’s told either of us. I don’t think he did anything to her, or that he even knows who did. He does know who else she was partying with, though. I know this was connected to that. This person is from around here. I don’t know, maybe they had a grudge against Millie. I do know that they knew about the tunnels and how to get in them. This wasn’t some random trucker. Hell, Kero, the killer may be your best customer as far as we know.”
Kero knew that wasn’t the case. His best customer was the retired Baptist preacher he made home deliveries to. There he could drink in private with friendly old deacons. At the same time Kero knew it was someone local. The killer knew about the tunnels and where to find Millie. Some knockabout wasn’t going to luck into such a good killing ground, or meeting up with someone like Millie.
“Well, I’m done around here for a while, and this is the usual time I waste talking to Newt about nothing. Let’s go see him.”
“No, let’s wait a minute, Kero. I would really like one more glass of what I just drank.” Kero poured him another tall glass and got himself a beer. They sat there drinking in the cold bar, listening to the Allman Brothers on the jukebox. Kero looked out over his place, at the red upholstered booths, and wished they could stay there all day.
Of course they couldn’t, and Kero left Delroy alone while he went to get his keys and call in more staff since he wouldn’t be there that evening. Of course, Newt was gone too, which meant his replacement would automatically be more sober and less prone to skim from the till. Kero’s new, and hopefully temporary, “Newt” fill-in was his cousin Garo Peters, and he was solid. Garo was honest with the bar money, and didn’t drink on the job. Still, the till was somehow always more full when Newt was working.