The Killing King of Gratis

by Jay Jackson

  He took her hand and led her onto the pontoon boat tied up at the dock. The boat had to be thirty years old and didn’t have a seat on it. It was basically a flat deck with a small railing around it. A console was placed in the back with a steering wheel and ignition.

  Delroy christened it the “Lola” after his grandmother. The name just seemed to fit. Behind the wheel, Delroy set up one chair and the other chair beside it.

  “Madame Amy, your throne awaits you.” He swooped his arm toward the passenger lawn chair. Amy laughed and sat down.

  Delroy started the motor and they began putting out to the main channel of the lake. The lake water chopped behind them in their wake, and lights started to shimmer in the small lake cottages that dotted the shore. After a few minutes they turned left and made their way into a cove. It was brightly lit at the far end by strings of lights. Under those strings stood the Crooked Creek Tavern.

  “Delroy, this is just charming.” The lights, in the darkening sky, made everything look aglow to Amy. The beers she drank didn’t hurt, either.

  Crooked Creek sat at the edge of the lake not forty feet from the dock. It had a wrap-around porch, good food, and a full bar. Boaters could dock there and get served as long as they had on flip flops, shorts and shirts, and good manners. Amy and Delroy got seated on the porch and were waiting for their drinks before they mentioned the case.

  “Amy, what do you think about everything since you’ve had a chance to look at, I mean wallow in, the file?”

  Amy cocked her head. Delroy thought her adorable.

  She answered. “Newt seems pretty screwed. He’s got a personal tie, either by location, sexual relationship, or both, with at least Millie and Merry. Of course he was found with Merry when the cops got there, and his DNA was found inside of Millie. So our defense would be that he was set up and that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. That might work once, but that’s a hell of a rough defense to have to make twice, or really three times counting Althea. And it sounds like his alibi, for Millie at least, is that he was passed out or asleep. Which doesn’t really help, because everyone in town knows that he doesn’t like to sleep alone. For Althea’s case, they don’t really have anything on him, but they got enough on the other two so it doesn’t matter.”

  She caught her breath and continued.

  “Terrence helps a little, but who’s to say that it wasn’t Newt he saw, or that he wasn’t mistaken. People don’t think a little boy is going to lie, but they would believe he might make a mistake. Plus, who knows whether he would be able to even testify after the shock of his mom dying. Who knows how he’ll hold up to an even mediocre cross-examination. So that leaves us with trying to find the real bad guy. I saw your notes, Delroy, how you think it’s got to be someone local. So we have the truck description, and are looking local, but have come up with squat. We have a clothing description, but it’s pretty bland, nothing really stands out. So, finally, it seems to me that, if we can’t find this guy who’s right under our noses, we are, as my old criminal law professor would say, egregiously fucked. No, more than that, he would say we are fucked running backwards, with bare asses and little promise.”

  Amy looked at Delroy with eyes wide, smiled, and took a drink of her recently delivered Maker’s and ginger ale.

  Delroy was impressed. She was young but she got it. Better yet, she could describe it succinctly and with profanity, always a plus.

  “Amy, that’s about how we stand. I’m grasping at straws and not holding on to any of them. Just keep believing in Newt is really all I can say, and look deeper into the owners we haven’t spoken to yet.” He was sipping his Jack and Coke. It was his first of the evening, and it was correct. Delroy had not touched a drop in days, and it was all he could do not to gulp it down. He felt a pang of guilt for drinking after promising himself he wouldn’t until everything was okay, but reasoned it wouldn’t be the first promise he had broken to himself, nor the last.

  Their food arrived and they ate watching the moonlight glint off the lake’s surface. Sinclair was far enough north that the air smelled different, more like a forest than the sea or the swamp. They both needed that, to get away from the Gratis smell, the Gratis feel. It felt good to be somewhere that nobody knew you, where nobody started whispering when you walked into a room. Delroy couldn’t remember the last time he felt like that.

  They stayed for a few more drinks after they finished eating. Amy gave him her life story. It wasn’t until then he realized she was a local, or at least pretty close to being one. She had an aunt in Gratis and grew up in Swainsboro. Undergrad was at Georgia Southern and then on to law school at the University of Georgia. She always wanted to come back home, or at least near home, and be a small town lawyer. Atticus Finch was her hero, and she didn’t care whether it was a cliché or not. Who wouldn’t aspire to be like Atticus?

  She was engaged once but broke it off. Her ex-fiancé still called her every week and would have her back in a second. “I’m not bragging,” she said, “In fact it makes me feel bad.” Delroy felt bad for him as well, to lose a woman like this.

  She told him Johnnie called her after their falling out. She said she would write a scathing article in Newt’s defense and that they should make up.

  “Seriously Delroy, I wonder what she wants me to do for her. Either she’s awfully lonely, or she has some chore she needs done.” Delroy nodded thinking about her article in today’s paper and how it attacked the sheriff’s office for stopping their search. He loved the article but was disappointed that it was now on the back page, directly under the death announcements.

  He let Amy do most of the talking, and he soaked up every word. Her voice was as beautiful as she was. Her accent felt like home. For his part, he told her about the divorce and about his relationship with his dead brother’s kids. He wasn’t totally honest, though, not wanting her to be scared away about his depth of feelings for either the ex-wife, or the children. He realized he felt too deeply, about too many things, and was helpless to stop doing so. It wasn’t quite right.

  They got on the Lola after paying up and went back to the single wide. Lightning bugs were hovering in the forests coming up to the water’s edge, outlining the shore with their glow when they docked. Delroy helped Amy out of the boat and put his arm around her as they went up the hill to the trailer.

  Once there, they went inside and he put her in his bedroom. She was hanging onto him now, and he could feel her breath on his neck as he finally put her on the bed. Amy held him tightly, if only for a moment, before falling back on her pillow. Without a word he went into the small den and got on the couch, closing the door to the bedroom as he left.

  He wanted badly to go back to her, but he didn’t want to risk complicating their relationship, not yet at least. He would pursue her that way, he knew that, but only after the case was done. He needed every ally he could get right now. Besides Kero and Amy, he felt alone. Even Cozette was tired of helping him, and Anna believed the whole thing was over with Newt in jail.

  Amy woke him early the next morning. She was fully dressed and brewing coffee for them when he opened his eyes. Somehow in that 1956 vintage single wide kitchen she found some coffee and two old ‘UGA’ mugs. It took a couple of “get up Delroy” shouts for him to get off the couch, but soon they were back in the Chevelle and heading down 441. Amy was distant and professional. She handled what must have been a bad hangover very well.

  It was nearly eight in the morning when Delroy dropped her in the alley behind her office. The last thing she needed was people talking about how she was sleeping with her co-counsel. When he stopped she got out of the car and unlocked her back door. Before going in she turned and looked at him.

  “I really did have fun last night. We’ll go for a ride on the Lola again. Now leave me alone for a while. I have a hunch and I don’t need you bothering me while I’m checking into it.” She went inside and locked the door behind her.

  Delroy left and made his way toward h
is office. He would never understand women, not at all. Smiling, though, he knew he would sure as hell keep trying to. Some of them were worth the effort, and then some.

  44.

  Finding Meg

  That night, while Amy and Delroy got to know each other, Skipper was finding out about the swamp during a storm. He decided to stay off the river and went looking for Meg at Cozette’s. The swamp was darker, but the stormy river was too much for his little fishing boat to handle.

  He made his way through the small channels that wound through the Neck and finally pulled into a small cove not twenty yards from Cozette’s dock. The black water surged under his fishing boat, but the trees protected him from the storm’s stinging rain. Although the wind howled overhead, it eased upon hitting the solid curtain of the swamp.

  As a child Skipper explored the Neck, too. That was years ago, but he still knew how to get to the few homesteads in its heart. Cozette’s was one of the biggest. He came here as a child to catch a glimpse of Odette, the old hoodoo root doctor. He would hide in his boat downstream from their old trailer. Every now and then she would come to the water's edge, a large red headscarf covering her head and a long blue dress covering the rest. She was always festooned with draping necklaces made from animal claws and bright beads. To a child it appeared that magic could fly from her fingertips. She was Gratis, but also something totally apart from the place. It was her exotic nature that drew Skipper, and that her home looked like it belonged in a Caribbean jungle, not in Gratis. Now, unfortunately, she was dead, and the single wide was a two story wood planked house. The old post planted into the bank to secure boats was replaced by a dock with a shed beside it. All of its allure was lost to progress, and even the old root doctor’s magic was nothing more than a product label.

  He sat out there for a few hours, cursing at the rain but also glad for the cover it provided. The dogs couldn’t smell him and the people couldn’t see him. Around midnight he almost gave up and started to leave. Before he could push his boat from the bank, however, two figures, one taller than the other, came walking out to the dock.

  The figures went to a small john boat, where the smaller figure went to the motor and knelt over it. After a few moments the taller figure came over to the first one and knelt as well. Both kept looking around and back towards the house. It was apparent that they didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Skipper smiled.

  As the taller one stood up and looked into the sky a violent gust of wind blew off her jacket. The hood came off as well and there, only twenty yards away, stood Meg Jones. Skipper could have taken her then but was savoring the moment. Every second before he took her might be the last normal, boring second of her life. He wondered if she could feel it in the whipping wind.

  He probably would have snatched her but wasn’t sure what to do with the other person, who had to be Peck. He could kill him now and take the sister, or he could take them both and kill the boy later. Skipper looked at his supplies, realized he might not have enough tape to secure two people, and decided that he didn’t want to leave Peck’s body lying on the dock. He wanted both children to go missing so the authorities who came to look, and there would be many, would split their resources searching for two kids. Keep the kids together and hidden, and the authorities wouldn’t figure things out for a long time. Given enough time, Skipper would become invisible.

  He was startled when he heard Meg yell at her brother.

  “Let’s go tomorrow night. It’s too rough tonight, and Mommy wouldn’t want us in the boat on the river when it’s this wild. Plus, Matthew is going to bed early tomorrow, almost as early as Cozette, because he’s leaving the next morning to go hunting with his football friends. He’ll be tired after hunting all day with you. We’ll be able to sneak out a lot earlier.” Although she was yelling the wind killed any sound from the dock before it reached the house.

  Peck looked up from the motor in the dark. Skipper saw him look at his sister, put his head down, and then pull something out of the motor and place it in his pocket. Son of a bitch, he thought, Cozette killed their motor by taking the plugs out and they found some more. Despite himself he felt a small wave of respect for the two. They figured out how to outmaneuver their protectors.

  “Don’t underestimate them, old Skip,” he whispered to himself.

  The two clasped hands and ran back to the house. Skipper was still tempted to follow, but that would be risking waking the dogs and the defensive lineman. Anyway, he knew where they would be tomorrow, and he needed to plan for two. There was no reason to rush things so much now that he knew where Meg was keeping herself.

  He pushed off the bank and puttered back into the channel toward the Bird. The wind got sharper as the tree cover fell away, and the waves in the river rocked his boat as he made his way back home. The wind cut into him, and the rain was surprisingly cold for the middle of summer. Although he should have been miserable, he wasn’t. Now he would be able to plan for his session with Meg, and put some real care into it. There would be no more looking, just catching. The thought warmed him as he motored through the rain and waves, oblivious to the chaos around him.

  45.

  The Announcement

  Delroy made his way to Kero’s after he caught a couple of hours of sleep and washed up. He walked in and found Kero standing behind the bar, scrubbing the pockmarked oak slab. Steely Dan’s ‘Deacon Blues’ tumbled from the jukebox. Kero eyed Delroy for a moment and then went back to scrubbing.

  “I tried to call your sorry ass five times last night, Delroy. All I got was your damn voicemail. You taking a vacation or what?”

  “I went to the lake for the night. I just needed to clear my head and I got back here around seven this morning.” Delroy sat down at the bar.

  “Your eyes don’t look that clear to me, and I heard you didn’t go to the lake alone. I guess it takes two people to help clear one head nowadays.”

  Delroy grimaced. One thing Gratis folk did better than anyone in the world was gossip. He was sure that everyone knew he was at the lake with Amy at least an hour before he even got on the road to go there.

  “She’s co-counsel on this case, and nothing happened.” He omitted the part that he hoped something would definitely happen later. Kero knew that anyway. The way Kero eyed him, though, Delroy wasn’t sure if he was disgusted that he went to the lake with Amy, or that nothing happened once they got there.

  “Delroy, right now is the time for Newt. Don’t get sideways. Don’t let that Amy get in your head about what to do. You have to keep your own counsel about this. She might be straight up and hell, I like her, but we still don’t really know her.”

  Delroy nodded his head while Kero spoke. Some people would’ve been angry if a friend told them not to get too crazy over a woman, but Delroy knew that Kero was right. He also knew that Kero would take the same advice from him if the situation was reversed.

  “I hear you, buddy. You’re right, and I can’t say that I didn’t want to go off with her. She’s pretty straight up, I know that, but you’re right. I can fully trust you and me, and after that it’s all about what we decide others need to know. It’s just that this thing is about to worry me to death. I needed to get away for a minute. I just wanted to be with a woman without Newt and everyone else seeming like they were there with us. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to do that.”

  Kero straightened up and poured two cokes from the bar tap. He handed one to Delroy. They clinked their glasses, drank, and were square with each other again.

  “I got you Delroy. I know it’s hard. With your kids you’ve got more skin in the game than I do and it’s about to worry me to death, too. I do have one good thing right now, though.”

  “What the hell could that be?”

  “Business is up this week. I mean it, lunch is full even though it’s usually slow in summer, and man, the nighttime crowds have killed for us. The news guys are always in here, and we even have tourists coming in to see where the crazy killer
of Gratis use to work. I know, it’s total bullshit, but to my shame I’m not about to turn them away.”

  “No shame in that Kero, money is money. You didn’t ask for this, it found you. Hell, you oughta be able to have something good happen. It’s better than somebody else making that money, anyway.”

  Delroy didn’t tell him that he hadn’t brought in a new client in a month. His office phone would not ring, and money was getting tight. Representing the local serial killer wasn’t too popular in the law business.

  Kero yelled at the kitchen to bring a couple of chopped pork sandwiches, and the two friends ate together at the bar. He turned on the television to catch the weather report on the Savannah news station. It was going to be “sizzling in the high nineties,” but one could always pray for the miracle of a cold front.

  The weatherman assured Kero his prayers would not be answered. The next report confirmed that he would be zero for two when it came to prayed for results.

  A young news reporter wearing a short skirt and high heels was standing “live” outside the Gratis County courthouse. Behind her was a podium set up on the courthouse steps. As she prattled on about breaking news in the Gratis serial killer case, D.A. Broyles walked into the frame. Directly behind him were his chief assistant on one side and Tommy on the other. The reporter finally shut up as Broyles began to speak.

  “As you know, the murderer Newt MacElroy was caught in Savannah, Georgia, after killing yet again. Although we have not made our formal announcement in court, I have decided to inform the people of this county that we will be seeking the death penalty in this case. I do not do this lightly. However, the aggravating circumstances in this case are so profound and serious that to do less would be turning my back on the welfare of the people of this great county, and indeed of this state. At this time, it appears to our office that the evidence against Newt MacElroy is so great as to at least three murders, both here and in Chatham County, that I feel it my duty to announce the decision of this office to the people of this county at once. Thankyou, and I will take no questions at this time.” With that Broyles turned and walked away from the podium back to the courthouse, a look of extreme gravitas hardening his face. Delroy wanted to punch it.