by C. G. Cooper
He looked shocked, but only for a moment. “Didn’t think you were that drunk.” He shook his head. “It went down like this: Johnny Laney was in his usually seat,” he pointed to a table near the bar. “He’d been drinking most of the afternoon. You came in at some point, don’t remember exactly when, sat at the bar and ordered a drink. Whisky, right?”
I nodded.
“Anyway, a little time goes by and Johnny and his cousin start getting loud, singing along with the music. No big deal. Happens all the time. Well, Kelly brings them a new pitcher of beer, and Johnny accidentally knocks it off the table. Kelly knows better than to piss him off, so she goes to grab a mop to clean it up. Johnny gets mad. Wants another beer right then. Kelly tells him she had to clean it or someone will slip. He doesn’t care. That’s what she told me. I was behind the bar.”
A faint trace of recognition. Nothing concrete, just a shadow of a memory.
He continued, “Once Kelly got them more beer and finished cleaning up the mess, things went back to normal. That was, until Johnny asks Kelly to sit in his lap. She’s a pretty little thing, I get it, but she’s a good girl. She says no. Johnny didn’t like that. He grabs her by the backside and puts her on his leg. Somehow she gets away, Johnny and his cousin laugh as she makes it back to the bar. I tell her I’ll take care of their orders for the rest of the night.
“A couple minutes later, Johnny yells for more beer. I take them another pitcher and he asks where Kelly is. I tell him she’s busy tending the bar. He doesn’t listen. Johnny gets up, marches over to the bar, and points his finger in Kelly’s face, telling her she better get over there and serve them. She was scared. I try to calm him down, but he’s pissed. That’s when you stepped in.”
I felt my blood rising as he continued the story.
“You tell Johnny to leave her alone. He doesn’t like that one bit. Walks over and stands right in your face. You don’t move. The whole place is watching Johnny stare you down, screaming at you. You’re like a statue, looked right back in his eyes. Then you say, I’ll never forget this, “Are you finished?” It was like you put a red hot poker in his backside. He loses it, shoving his head right into yours, pushing you back over the bar. I grab the phone, ready to call the cops, but don’t get there. You push him back and jackhammer him with your forehead. I see his nose squash, and Johnny goes straight down to the floor.”
“And his cousin?” I asked.
“He comes over to try and help. You were calm as Sunday. He swings, you somehow grab his arm, twist, and pop that thing out of socket. He screamed like a little girl.”
No wonder the Laneys were after me. I’d invaded their turf, disturbed their chokehold.
“Was there any damage, anything I can pay for?”
By the look on the owner’s face, I could tell there hadn’t been, but he was trying to decide whether to pretend that there had. Finally, he shook his head. “No. No damage, just some spilled beer.”
I pulled out my dwindling stash and peeled off two one hundred dollar bills. He looked at them expectantly, probably salivating. “One last thing. What happened to her eye?” I asked, pointing at the waitress.
The owner hesitated. Telling a story was one thing. Getting involved was another. He looked at the money in my upraised hand. “It was Johnny. He stopped by earlier.”
Chapter 7
Johnny slammed his palm on the steering wheel. He hadn’t found the stranger at the grocery store or the gas station. There weren’t many places he could go. Johnny figured the guy probably wasn’t out for a casual dinner. The only other place they had in common was Pappy’s. Johnny made an illegal U-turn and headed that way.
+++
I tried to talk with the waitress before leaving, but she did her best to ignore me. In the end, I ordered a soda, took a sip, and left a hundred dollar tip, hoping the owner would be smart enough to leave it for the girl.
It was time to move on. I’d already made enough of a mess in Defuniak Springs. I stood up from the bar stool and headed for the door.
+++
Johnny smiled as he pulled into Pappy’s parking lot, instantly recognizing Hollie’s old truck. “I’ve got him now.”
+++
I was always careful, especially in unfamiliar places. It was the only reason the swinging bat narrowly missed my head as I exited the building, falling to the side to avoid the blow. My assailant cursed and moved to follow my roll. Looking up, I saw that it was Johnny Laney. I was in no mood for a fight.
“I thought we’d made our peace,” I said, crouched and ready to dodge again.
Johnny’s nostrils flared. “The only peace you’re gonna have is when I dump your ass in the swamp.”
Another swing, another dodge. He wasn’t stupid and had apparently learned his lesson, careful to stay out of arms reach, instead using the length of the bat to keep me moving.
“I don’t want any more trouble. I’m leaving…”
Just then the loud BLIP of a police siren, followed by its flashing lights stopped us both.
“Put the bat down, Johnny,” came the call over the loudspeaker.
Johnny stood breathing hard, ignoring the order.
I heard car doors opening, and saw two policemen meandering over, guns still holstered.
“Come on, Johnny. I said, put the bat down.”
By the sound of the cop’s voice, it was obvious that he’d made the command because of his job, not because he actually wanted the bat lowered. Are all these guys related?
“This is none of your concern, Mitch,” said Johnny, still focused on me.
“The hell if it ain’t. You know I can’t just let you beat some guy to pieces in public, Johnny. Now come on, put it down.”
Johnny finally relented, lowering the weapon, but didn’t drop it. He pointed a finger at me.
“He assaulted me first.”
“Is this true, sir?” asked the cop.
“No,” I said, still watching Johnny.
“Bullshit! How do you think I got my nose busted? Ask Wally. Ask Kelly.”
The two cops looked at each other, making a decision. “Sir,” speaking to me, “If we can please have you come with us, we’ll see if we can’t get this resolved.”
“What do you want me to do?” I asked, concerned, not scared.
“Let’s have you take a seat in the back of our squad car. We’ll go in Pappy’s and get some answers.”
“Gentlemen, if you’re going to arrest me I suggest you do it,” I said, taking a gamble that the local cops might not want to go through the hassle of taking me in without a valid charge.
Another silent moment. Thinking. “Okay. Why don’t we all go in there and ask Wally. If it’s not true, we’ll let you go. If it is…”
He let the threat hang. I could’ve run, hit the tree line, make a break. They didn’t know who I was. I knew how to survive off the land, escape and evade. But something told me to stay, to see what happened. Maybe I was just curious about what the witnesses would say.
“Okay. Let’s go.”
+++
Johnny led the way back into the bar, me next, the two cops bringing up the rear. I saw Kelly flinch as we stepped in, quickly scooting back to the kitchen.
“Wally!” Johnny called.
The owner’s head popped out from under the bar, a frown at our appearance. “How can I help you, officers?” he asked, trying to force a smile. Two of a bar owner’s least favorite things had just stepped into his establishment: brawlers and cops.
One of the police officers stepped forward. “Mr. Laney said you and Ms. Kelly were witnesses to an assault on his person by this man,” pointing at me. “Is that true?”
Wally was in a tough spot. I almost sympathized for him…almost. “Well, I’m not sure…”
“Tell him what happened, Wally. This guy broke my nose!”
Wally shuffled uncomfortably, wringing his hands on the filthy dish cloth he held. “Now, I’m not sure if I saw anything.” His face changed, brightened. “But, y
ou know, I’m pretty sure Kelly saw everything. Why don’t I go get her?”
The cops and Johnny didn’t protest. Wally had found his way out. The lie burned in my chest, something I would not forget.
Kelly stepped out a moment later, Wally forgoing any further questioning by hiding in the kitchen.
The officer asking the questions smiled at the young waitress. “Ms. Kelly, we won’t take much of your time, but we wanted to get a statement from you regarding the alleged assault on Mr. Laney by this gentleman here.”
Patrons tried to pretend not to listen as Kelly struggled to stay standing. Her petite frame shook under the white hot glare of Johnny Laney. She looked to me and I nodded, mouthing, It’s okay.
Tears came to her eyes.
“Ms. Kelly,” the policeman pressed, “will you kindly tell us what happened?”
Kelly looked at me again, unsure. I nodded again, not wanting her to take any more heat from the bully standing next to me. Suddenly, she stood a little straighter and said, “It was just a little scuffle, officer. I didn’t get to see the whole thing, but I think it was a misunderstanding.”
Johnny seethed. The policeman exhaled. “Are you telling me that you did not see this man break Mr. Laney’s nose?”
Kelly looked right at Johnny, her hair parting just enough to show her black eye, roughly concealed by makeup. I knew the cops had seen it too. “It all happened so fast. Like I said, it was some kind of disagreement. I don’t think I’m the best witness.”
“You lying little, bitch,” growled Johnny. The number two cop put a hand on Johnny’s shoulder that he promptly shook off.
“Calm down, Johnny. I’m sure Kelly wouldn’t lie.”
They were trying to diffuse the situation, correctly putting the pieces together in their heads. They knew where Kelly’s black eye had come from. She wasn’t Johnny’s first victim, but they didn’t want to open that can of worms.
The lead policeman turned to me. “You’re free to go, sir. I would recommend staying away. It might be for your own good.”
“Yes, sir.” I nodded at Kelly, who resisted the urge to nod back.
“Come on, Johnny. Why don’t I buy you a drink?” offered Cop #1.
The two on-duty policemen ushered Johnny to the bar, patrons making room. I could feel the younger Laney’s glare on the back of my head as I walked out the door.
Chapter 8
Hollie was on the front porch, whittling a piece of birch when I got back.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“No damage.”
“That’s good. No trouble either?”
I shook my head. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He turned his gaze as I sat in the white rocking chair next to him.
“You sure?”
I nodded. “What do you know about the girl that works at Pappy’s? Kelly?”
Hollie grunted. “Kelly Waters. Nice girl. Her daddy used to own a farm a couple miles down the road. Had to sell it. Now he works at the beach, taking care of vacation homes for out of town owners.”
“What about her? Has she always worked at the bar?”
“I don’t know. Don’t spend much time there myself. Gave up drinking a fews years back. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious.”
Hollie wanted me to say more, knew there was more, but didn’t press. Instead, we sat back, enjoying the cooler air, the smell of a storm coming.
+++
The two cops, who happened to be distant relatives of the Laneys, stayed for a couple rounds then hopped back in their police cruiser and continued patrolling.
Johnny stayed, taking drink after drink, eyes focused on the muted television showing highlights of the day’s games. Not a word came out of his mouth, just the repeated double thump of his empty glass on the bar.
Kelly kept pouring and Johnny kept drinking.
+++
Men down. Men down. Insurgents overrunning….
I woke with a scream stifled in my throat, sweat soaking the sheets. Same dream. I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol. My medicine. I couldn’t go back.
As quietly as I could on the creaking wooden floors, I padded to the bathroom and rinsed my face off. There was a knock at the door, “Everything okay, son?”
I opened the door, the vanity light illuminating Hollie’s concerned face.
“I’m fine.”
“I heard screaming. Thought it was the coyotes for a second.”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Need anything?” he asked, still not prying, just worried.
“I’m okay. I might go for a little walk. Clear my head.”
+++
I had breakfast ready when Hollie came downstairs just after sunrise. “Now that smells good. Whatcha got in the oven?”
“Just an old recipe my mom taught me. I hope you don’t mind that I used the rest of your eggs and most of your sausage. I can pick some up later.”
Hollie waved the thought away, peeking into the hot oven. “I get all my eggs from a neighbor. Have a friend that gets me all the sausage I want too.”
He set the table as I pulled out the casserole, setting it carefully on a hot pad in the middle of the kitchen table.
“I’m thinking that I’ll probably head out this afternoon. There’s a bus coming through at two o’clock,” I said while we ate.
Hollie slowed his chewing. “You got your mind made up?”
“Yes, sir. I think it’s best for everyone if I move along.” I’d thought about it all morning. Kelly, the girl at the bar, Hollie, they’d be in trouble because of me. I couldn’t add that to my already burdened conscience.
“You mind helping me with a couple things before you go?”
+++
Tom and Mary Freeman spent at least one week every year at the beach. It was their favorite place in the world, and if they’d had more money, they would’ve visited more often.
As they’d done every morning since arriving, the Freemans walked along the sandy shore, admiring the emerald water beside their beloved Rosemary Beach community. Mary carried a mesh bag full of shells. She’d add it to their collection at home.
“What’s that up ahead?” Tom asked, pointing.
Mary squinted. “Something big. Maybe it’s a dead dolphin. Let’s go back. I can’t stand to see the poor things like that, and besides, the last one we saw stunk to high heaven.”
“You stay here. I’ll go take a look.”
Mary sat down on the snowy sand, burying her feet as her husband moved further down the beach. The form was half-buried, so he couldn’t tell what it was. A sea turtle?
A seagull swooped down and landed on the form, picking. It looked up as Tom approached, holding something in its beak. What is that? he thought, now twenty feet from the prostrate form covered in sand and seaweed. The seagull squawked, causing it to drop whatever had been in its mouth, then flew away. Tom looked down. Is that…
A frothy waved crashed against the shore, jostling the form in the sand and moving aside a portion of the seaweed. Tom fell back horrified, tripping over his feet, trying to get away.
“Mary, call 9-1-1!”
Chapter 9
Wally busied himself in the bar, picking up trash before sweeping and mopping the floor. He’d left Kelly to close up the night before. Normally she was good about leaving the place spotless. Hell, she was his best employee.
He’d returned in the morning only to find the place as he’d left it, dirty and sticky. After opening the doors to air out the stale smell, he pulled out his phone and called Kelly. It went to voicemail. He tried again. Voicemail.
“Hey, it’s Wally. Just want to see why you didn’t clean up last night. I’ll take care of it for you this time, but let’s not have it happen again.”
He was upset, but he knew the value of a dependable employee. There were a few over the years, Kelly being one of the best.
Wally got back to the task at hand, dumping the last batch of plastic cups in the
trashcan before he started on the floors.
+++
“Yes, ma’am. When was the last time you saw her?” asked the police dispatcher.
“I think it was before she went to work yesterday,” said Mrs. Waters.
“Is there anyone she could be staying with? Maybe a boyfriend or girlfriend?”
“Kelly doesn’t have a boyfriend. She comes home from work the same time every night. I’m so worried. What can you do?”
“Technically it hasn’t been twenty-four hours, but I’ll let the chief know. I’m sure he’ll have the patrols start looking.”
+++
The Walton County Sheriff’s Department had cordoned off the beach, lining the perimeter with deputies and vehicles.
“Did you get any ID off of the body?” Sheriff Karl Tasker asked one of his men who’d just inspected the deceased.
“No, sir.”
“What about cause of death? Any clue?”
“No gunshots as far as I could see. The coroner should be here any minute.”
The affluent beach community hadn’t seen a dead body in quite some time. Three local mayors had contacted the sheriff, asking if the cause of death had been determined and whether a suspect was in custody. He’d told them all the same thing, that the matter was still in its infancy, and that he would give them an update when he could.
Word spread quickly, and the crowds showed up before the police could get the body covered. Pictures of the body had already been posted on social media. Karl Tasker, a former beat cop from Detroit, fumed at the thought of having the poor girl’s family see the photos. He wanted to wring the necks of the inconsiderate bastard who’d done it.
Tasker’s phone rang. “Tasker.”
“Karl, it’s Darryl up in Defuniak Springs,” Tasker rolled his eyes. He hated dealing with the chief of the Defuniak Springs police department. The man thought he was God’s gift to law enforcement, when in fact, all he was just a lazy bigot.