by Robin Mahle
Almost on cue, Connor started up the waterworks. Not intentionally, of course. It just happened. He was a scared twelve-year-old boy.
“It’s okay,” Braydon reassured him before returning his attention to the female deputy. “Ma’am, we found something in the river, down past the cove.” He could hardly bring himself to say what it was. As if the mere mention of a dead body would somehow make it haunt him.
“What did you find, son?”
Braydon was a pretty tough kid, but this was too much for him. His eyes reddened as he tried desperately to hold it together, but soon his bottom lip began to quiver. For a boy who stood nearly six feet at only fourteen, the incident had reduced him from the man he was trying to be to the boy he was. “It was a hand.”
“I’m sorry? Did you say a hand?” The woman’s brow narrowed and the lines in her forehead turned severe.
“Yes, ma’am. A hand and I’m pretty sure it was attached to a body, but I just couldn’t see. I fell in and…” His words dropped off. Controlling his emotions was a skill he no longer possessed and his eyes spilled over with tears.
“For God’s sake.” She walked around the desk and took Braydon by his shoulders. “Come sit down. You too, young man,” she said to Connor. “Now, I need you to calm down. Relax and take a deep breath. Can you do that for me?”
Braydon nodded and took Connor’s hand as he sat down next to him.
“Okay, then. Where were you?”
“At the cove. We were fishing,” Braydon replied.
“Yeah, just fishing,” Connor agreed.
“And you saw a hand? Are you sure it was a hand?”
Braydon was growing impatient at her condescension. “I’m sure. I fell into the water and I—I was up close to it. I saw an arm—but nothing else. Water was too murky.”
The deputy pursed her lips and began to nod. “I see. Okay, can you boys just sit here for one minute? I need to get Deputy Burgess to come talk to you.” She hoisted herself up and shuffled into the hallway, the sound of her polyester uniform rustling wildly with her hurried steps.
Connor waited for the woman to disappear beyond the corridor. “Are we gonna get in trouble for skipping school?”
Braydon rolled his eyes and cast a disapproving glance. “I think they’ve got bigger problems than us missing a day of school.”
Connor nodded. “Sure, you’re right.” A brief pause followed as he seemed to consider an additional point of concern. “Mom’s gonna be pissed.”
TWO
Midday on a Thursday would normally find the Agent Nick Scarborough buried in paperwork on his desk or traveling on a plane going somewhere to investigate something. But not today and not for the past several weeks. This afternoon would find Nick perched on his favorite barstool, staring at the television above, and well on his way to a soothing state of inebriation. The last of his bourbon burning his throat, he looked at the barman. “Can I get another, please?” His weary brown eyes matched his tired expression as he stared at the man, waiting for him to do what he’d asked.
Nick was well aware of his weakness for the drink, but was generally able to keep it contained, mostly due to his preoccupation with a case of one kind or another. Without work, it was the best way for him to kill time—and he had a lot of it right now. Except that today he’d had a meeting with the guys in the Inspection Division—internal affairs for the FBI. The so-called “shooting incident review team” had a few more questions for Nick to answer. Although he’d recounted the events so goddamn many times, the idea that he still hadn’t conveyed enough for them gave him a bad feeling. That was partly the reason he was here now.
“Here you go.” The bartender placed the drink in front of Nick. Double Jack and Coke. “Maybe you might want to slow down after this one.”
Nick’s eyes were fixed on the drink, but he shot a quick look up at the kid who was serving him. The young man was probably right, but he didn’t care too much for being called out. “Yeah, thanks.” He picked up the drink and brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving the kid. He poured in a large mouthful and swallowed it down. A grimace formed on his already lined face making him look years beyond his actual age of thirty-eight. It took a minute for the fire in his throat to pass.
The bartender just looked at him, thin-lipped, and walked away.
Nick was being an ass and he knew it. He shook his head and when he closed his eyes, he saw the man again, holding the girl with a gun pressed against her cheek. Let her go, he’d said to him. But the man seemed to understand that he was either going to prison or going to die and it appeared as though he’d prefer the latter. The rest of the team was fighting their own battles. Taking down the suspects, trying to protect the victims in the process, and no one else was there. It was Nick and the son of a bitch who was holding one of the victim’s hostage, under cover of thick trees and off the road where they’d staged the raid.
Yelling and gunshots were all that could be heard in the distance and Nick was forced to do what he felt was right. Put the gun down and let her go. He stepped closer to the suspect. You hear that? All your buddies are going down, my friend. You can go with them or you can drop your weapon. I swear I’ll put you down if you hurt her.
In a split second, it happened. The suspect pushed the girl down and began to lower his weapon. That should have been the end of it, but it wasn’t. She fell to the ground and her head struck a large rock. Nick glanced down at her. So did the suspect. The man’s eyes widened, believing he’d just shoved her to her death. He began to raise his weapon again. At least, Nick thought he was.
The weapon fired a single round and the suspect dropped. The entire incident couldn’t have lasted longer than a minute and Nick pulled the trigger believing his own life was in danger. He rushed to the girl. She was alive.
“Nick?”
The call of his name brought him back to the present. He turned to confirm whom the voice belonged to, already knowing her identity. “How you doing, Kate?” He patted the seat next to him. “Sit down.”
She would know he’d had too much to drink, and there was no point in trying to convince her otherwise. He had no excuses to make and besides that, with Kate, excuses were unnecessary.
“I’m glad they’re letting you stay put,” Nick began. “No matter what shit storm I’m facing, they had no right to throw you into the mix, threatening to move you. It wasn’t right and I’m glad they finally saw that.”
“I’m pretty sure Dwight had a lot to say on the matter too.” Kate looked at Nick’s half-empty glass. “Anyway, they said he’ll be my mentor, at least until you return.”
“Good.” Nick waved the bartender over again. “You want something to drink?”
“Blue Moon. Thanks.”
“You heard the lady,” Nick replied, but not before considering ordering another for himself. In the end, he decided against it, for the moment.
“How’d your meeting go?” she asked, nodding to the barman who’d just set her beer down.
“Apparently, they’re still drafting the narrative to send to the big boys for review. I won’t know anything for a while.”
“For God’s sake, how long can they drag this out for?” Kate tossed back a frothy swig.
“As long as they want, I guess. Just red tape bullshit. They all know I complied with Bureau policy. It’s Hughes’ testimony that’s causing this to be dragged out. He didn’t show up until the man was already down. He doesn’t know what the hell happened out there.” Nick could feel his pulse rise and the heat crawl up the back of his neck. He cocked his head in each direction to loosen the muscles that were starting to tense. Another sip of his drink to keep the edges softened should help.
“I’m sorry, Nick. I know I’ve said this a hundred times before, but I wish I had been there. Maybe I could’ve—I don’t know.”
Her tone seemed to bring him some peace and he reached out for her. “There’s nothing you could’ve done. In fact, if you’d been there… hell, I don’t
know either.” He turned away and rattled the melting ice around the empty glass. “Can I get another over here?”
Kate and the kid behind the bar, who hardly looked old enough to serve alcohol, exchanged a brief glance. Nick wasn’t blind. He knew what they were thinking and maybe they were right. He could feel himself sliding down that slippery slope. He’d been on this path a few times before over the years and, in this job, who the hell could blame him? But he’d always been able to reel it in. It felt different this time, like he might be sliding too far.
“You know what? Never mind. I’ll just take the bill, please.” He looked at Kate. “Unless you want another beer?”
“No. I’m good, thanks. You eaten today?” Her eyes scanned his body as though he’d suddenly appeared too thin for his own good. “I didn’t have a chance to grab anything yet.” She pressed the button on her phone to check the time. “Feel up to a late lunch?”
Nick smiled and dropped some cash on the bar. “Sure.”
» » »
The cove had been cordoned off—shut down to any and all visitors. Patrol cars with flashing lights parked at the entrance. Deputies stationed on the beach. To the boys, it looked like something out of a movie. But when Braydon saw his mother step out of her old blue Toyota Sentra, the look on her face suggested that this was anything but a movie, and that he was in some kind of serious trouble. Deputy Burgess insisted he had to call her because they were minors or something like that. He figured the deputy was right to do so, but it was going to mean problems when they got home later.
“Oh my God, sweetheart.” She ran towards Braydon, her face softening at the sight of his trepidation.
He found himself inside a great big hug from his too-skinny mother. She was a smoker, although never inside the house. Braydon was old enough to notice that she hardly ate and was approaching a three-pack-a-day habit. “I’m okay, Mom. I promise.”
She gently held him at arm’s length. “Where’s your brother?”
Just as the words left her mouth, Connor emerged from inside one of the patrol cars. The weather had heated up, thickening the air, and the boy needed a place to cool down. “Mama!” He ran toward her and flung his arms around her waist.
“Oh, baby, are you okay?”
“Somebody died, Mama.” Connor looked up at her with eyes that had seen too much for their age.
“I know, baby. I’m so sorry you two had to see something so awful. Where’s the sheriff? I need to see him.”
Braydon looked down along the path where they’d left their fishing gear. “It’s Deputy Burgess. I had to show him where it was—the body. I think he’s still down there.” He pointed in the direction of the gruesome discovery.
“Now you boys stay right here. I’m going to go find him.”
Deputy Michael Burgess stood with his arms folded against his broad chest while the dive team began to carefully bring the body to the shoreline. At first glance, he believed they’d have no trouble bringing it up to the surface once they pulled the branch away, but it was caught on something else and rather than risk damaging the body and, more importantly, destroying physical evidence, Burgess thought it better to bring in the divers and employ a more meticulous approach. He was glad to have made that call.
“Deputy Burgess?” The boys’ mother carefully navigated through the other officers and rugged terrain. “I’m Jenny Sykes, Braydon and Connor’s mother.”
“Ma’am, you shouldn’t be over here.” Burgess began walking toward the woman who appeared to be in her late thirties, but the obvious odor of cigarettes that lingered on her clothing could have meant that her habit made her features appear more aged. “Let’s go over here and talk for a minute.” He led her to a safer spot, away from the scene. “I’m sorry to have had to pull you away from your job, but your boys... I’m sure they told you what happened?”
“Yes, sir, they did. Are they in any trouble?”
“No, ma’am, of course not. I know they were skipping school, but frankly, something like this?” He turned back and watched as the body began to emerge from the river. “Well, we don’t get this kind of thing around here, as I’m sure you are aware.”
“No, I suppose we don’t.” Mrs. Sykes looked over the deputy’s shoulder, but turned away quickly from the grisly sight. “Can I take my boys home, then? They don’t need to be here anymore, do they?”
“You can take them home. I agree. They don’t need to be exposed to this any more than they already have. However, I’d like to speak with them tomorrow, if possible. Just a brief statement. I don’t think they’re up for it today. They’re both pretty shaken up.”
“Of course. I can bring them by in the morning. I’ve got second shift tomorrow, so I’ll have the time.”
“Sir?” one of the officers shouted to Deputy Burgess.
“Thank you, ma’am. I’ve got to be getting back. Please take care of those boys tonight. I imagine they’ll be having some pretty unsettling dreams.” Burgess tipped his hat and began to walk in the direction of the scene.
“Sir, you need to see this.” The officer met him halfway and turned on his heel, heading toward the divers.
“Jesus Christ.” Burgess removed his hat and knelt down beside the body. He scanned the swollen figure, shaking his head in disgust and disbelief.
The girl had shoulder-length dark hair. Her face was bloated and discolored, but what struck Burgess the hardest was that her leg had been torn away, leaving only half a thigh with mangled flesh dangling from it.
“Looks like a gator might have gotten to her first,” the officer said. “I’m surprised there’s anything left of her.”
“Did you call the coroner’s office yet?” Burgess asked.
“I did. They’re coming from Jacksonville. It’ll take them a while to get here.”
Burgess continued to inspect the girl’s body. Her clothes clung to her tightly both from the water and distension. His brow creased as he tried to glean any information based on her appearance. He was neither equipped nor qualified to examine her and, even if he was, it couldn’t be done here. “I can’t even tell how old she might have been. She must have been in the water for a while.”
“And there’s something else too.” The officer signaled one of the divers over. “You mentioned you thought she might’ve come downstream a ways, is that right?” he asked the diver.
“I’m not an expert, sir,” the diver said, “and I’ll leave it to the coroner’s office to make the conclusion, but I’m pretty familiar with this area and I gotta tell you that some of the plant material hung up on the body didn’t come from down in these parts.” He pointed a finger at the girl’s hair. “See that?”
“Looks like part of a plant, a flower maybe, stuck in her hair,” Burgess replied.
“Well, yes and no. I’ve seen these before and, to me, it looks like part of a pitcher plant. You know, the flycatchers? It looks like one of its leaves got tangled up here.”
“Okay. So what does that mean?” Burgess asked.
“I’ve never seen one of these down here in this part of the river. These things live in the swamps.”
It dawned on Burgess what it was the diver was surmising. “You think she traveled all the way down from the Okefenokee Swamp? That’s a mighty long way.”
“Well, if she didn’t travel that far, then I think she was there at some point, maybe dumped further downstream and ended up here.”
Burgess pushed back up to his feet. “Well, if that’s the case, then we better put a call into Charlton County.” He began to shake his head. “That’s all we need—getting another jurisdiction involved.” A brief sigh escaped him. “Let’s wait to see what the coroner’s office has to say before we go any further. Lord knows I don’t want to ruffle any feathers until I have to.”
» » »
The late lunch with Nick meant Kate didn’t leave the office until after seven o’clock. Now, as she pulled into the driveway of her small rented house, the day had begun to wear o
n her. She worried about Nick. Worried about how much time he was spending at the bars. Worried about the effects this inquiry was going to have on his career and even worried about whether or not he and Georgia were getting along through all of this. Nick hadn’t said much about it one way or another and Kate didn’t pry. None of this was what she’d expected after graduation. Then again, not much in her life ever really went to plan.
She opened the front door and stepped inside, kicking her shoes off immediately. Once inside her bedroom, she removed her gun from its holster and locked it away as always. A box on top of the closet was where it remained from the time she got home from work until five minutes before she walked out the door in the morning. It wasn’t like she had any kids running around and so it seemed overly cautious to lock it up every night. Living alone, she would have been better off keeping it in her nightstand or something to that effect. But she felt safe here. It took quite a while to get to this point, but she felt safe.
Her appetite hadn’t returned, thanks to the late lunch, so Kate curled up on the couch for some T.V. So far, in the six weeks she’d been assigned at the WFO, not a single case had been tossed her way. They’d had her doing a whole lot of administrative work—paper pushing, which she intensely disliked. But now that it had finally been resolved and she knew the WFO would be her home, now maybe they’d put her onto something with some meat in it.
Dwight would be her mentor as dictated by Bureau policy. The first two years after graduation was a probationary period for a new agent who was learning the ropes. There was a lot to learn and it was mostly bureaucratic political nonsense, but it was all a part of the game. She understood that perhaps now more so than before with everything that had been going on with Nick.
Kate switched on the television, more for white noise than anything else. Living alone was still an adjustment. Loneliness crept in all too often, but she did her best to stay busy and not think about why she was alone. After all, it was coming up on a year now.