Fallen Giant

by Monica Owens

  “Well, Rocky?”

  The sheriff flicked his uneasy gaze to the mayor. Mayor Elliott enjoyed that unease. “Mr. Mayor?”

  “What do you think?”

  After driving back from the crime scene, the mayor had insisted the sheriff spend the afternoon with him and then join him for dinner. He was certain they’d hear from the medical examiner or even the detective. Since they hadn’t, the mayor now had sheriff Rocky Grande sitting in the most uncomfortable chair he owned.

  The sheriff furrowed his brow. “Sir?”

  “About your star detective? And my man?” He leaned forward just a bit. “Who do you think will win?”

  “Win, sir? This isn’t a game.”

  “Like hell it isn’t,” the mayor gritted out. “Someone out there is killing folks and we need to find out who they are.”

  “The medical examiner should be able to match dental records for the victims—”

  “Not the victims, you imbecile. The bloody murderer.” Mayor Elliott did his best not to shout at the sheriff, but his impatience was plain. “I have lived in this town my whole life, Grande. And for that woman to insinuate that someone from this town is the murderer is an insult, plain and simple. You’re sure you got her off that crazy idea?”

  The sheriff said nothing.

  Mayor Elliott narrowed his eyes and frowned. “I see. So I guess we’ll have to up the stakes.”

  “The stakes, sir?”

  “Yes,” the mayor hissed. “I refuse to let this town die. And I refuse to be the site of a serial killer. You take the next call.”

  “Maybe there won’t be another—”

  “You take the next call,” the mayor interrupted. “You go out there and you take care of it. Do you know what I’m saying?”

  The sheriff paled. “Sir, you don’t mean—”

  “I do. You move that body somewhere else. I’ll be damned if she destroys this town.”

  “But if someone is killing people…and that someone lives here—”

  “That someone doesn’t live here,” Mayor Elliott insisted. “Right?”

  Grande opened and closed his mouth like a fish.

  The mayor ignored him and went on. “I brought that professor in so he could agree with me about the satanic cult. Then the next body, you move it, dispose of all information and evidence of it being near Magnolia or our county. I’ll take care of getting the murderer.”

  “What do you mean, ‘getting the murderer?’”

  “Just what I said, Sheriff. Someone’s committing the crimes, aren’t they? We need someone to do that. And I have just the person in mind.”

  The mayor grinned at the sheriff but was unconcerned when Grande did not grin back. Mayor Elliott would take care of this. No taint of murder would touch his town of Magnolia.

  Never.

  Chapter Six

  Levi sat on the porch steps of the apartment he was renting. The night glittered around him, coyotes called, and crickets chirped.

  Fuck if any of this made sense.

  From everything he’d seen, Trish was a fabulous detective. She left no stone unturned. For her to not add the missing kidney and lung to her wall was ludicrous. He had to believe she was hiding something and he was furious that she refused to tell him what it was.

  This might not smell like a satanic cult, but something weird was happening here in Magnolia.

  The whole town was odd. The mayor was unusual. The sheriff seemed downtrodden. Their town square consisted of four buildings and a non-working fountain. Sure it was a small town, but something was…off. Magnolia consisted of four main roads, with smaller ones branching off, but no stoplights, no stop signs, and hundreds of miles of desert.

  The biggest street was Main Street, of course, and housed several old Victorian homes that had to be hell to keep cool. He’d learned quickly that the mayor owned all of the houses and lived in the largest. Seemed the mayor enjoyed owning half the town. Most of the homes had been converted to apartments or businesses, but the mayor was quick to point out how selective he was to who he rented to.

  Levi had been set up in his living quarters by the mayor. He was staying in an upstairs garage apartment down Oak Street, the next biggest street. The older gentleman who owned the house in front wasn’t at home and wouldn’t return for some time, Levi was told. But since he was the mayor’s cousin, the garage apartment had been made available to Levi.

  Across the street was clearly the bane of Mayor Elliott’s existence.

  On the way to the crime scene, the mayor had pointed out that while his family hadn’t been “in charge” of Magnolia, some unsavory types had moved into the area and built several apartment buildings. The buildings themselves were beautifully done, architecturally speaking, and fit in with most of the other structures in the town. But that’s where the similarities ended.

  Levi supposed one of the issues the mayor had was riding by on his bike right now.

  He glanced at his watch, saw the late hour, and sighed heavily. He got to his feet and moseyed down the driveway, waiting for the bike to turn back around and head his way. A large live oak guarded the entrance to the driveway and Levi leaned against it.

  When the boy on his bike pedaled closer, Levi stepped out into his way.

  The tire screeched on the sidewalk and two sneakers hit the pavement.

  “Kinda late, isn’t it?” Levi asked.

  The kid’s chin jutted out.

  “How old are you?” Levi chin nodded to him.

  “Fifteen,” the kid spat out.

  Levi looked the kid up and down. From the streetlight across the road, Levi could tell that fifteen was years in this kid’s future. “Wanna try again?”

  The kid wet his lips, eyes darted back and forth. “Thirteen.”

  Levi lifted a brow.

  Now the eyes dropped to the tips of his sneakers. “Eleven.”

  Levi swallowed a smile. “That’s better. Wanna tell me why you’re out so late?”

  The kid shrugged and glanced at Levi quickly, then back down. “You ain’t my dad.”

  “Nope. I’d sure like to meet him though. Ask him why you’re out here riding your bike at three in the morning.” There was no answer. “You got a name?”

  “Yeah,” he answered sulkily.

  “I’m Levi. Who’re you?”

  “Colton.”

  “Nice to meet you, Colton. Where do you live? I’ll walk you back.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter,” Colton shot back.

  “Clearly.” Levi waved a hand toward the apartments. “Over there?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come on. I’ll walk you back,” Levi said again.

  Colton slipped off his bike and fell into a petulant walk next to Levi. Levi grinned to himself as the kid scuffed across the street. His sneakers were ratty, as were his jeans, and he had a stain on the front of his shirt. The kid’s glossy curls were jet black and his skin a light mocha. Ultimately, it wasn’t Colton’s fault he was out in the middle of the night. Someone should be taking care of him.

  “Your mom at work or something?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where does she work?”

  “I’m not s’posed to say.”

  Levi nodded. On his way here, after exiting the highway, he’d driven past a skeezy strip club. If the woman who’d birthed this child was working, chances are she was working there. Nothing else around here was open.

  They passed through the wrought iron gates of the apartment buildings and Levi glanced around. Four buildings sat around a courtyard, the parking lot around the buildings. Nearly all windows were dark and the parking lot was almost empty. They crossed the cracked asphalt to the sidewalk that ringed the lot.

  “Not a lot of people around, huh?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Levi ran a hand through his hair. The image of the broken body today flashed through his mind. This kid had no idea what was out there.

  “Shouldn’t be out this late,�
� he murmured.

  “I can take care of myself,” Colton piped up.

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So I’m a stranger and I’m walking you home.”

  Colton stopped in his tracks. When Levi followed suit, he turned to see a scared little boy looking at him with big, big eyes.

  “I ain’t gonna hurt you, kid. I’m just pointing out how dangerous this is. You shouldn’t be out this late.”

  Colton bit back what looked like a sob. “My mom works late. I get bored and can’t sleep so good.”

  “Fine,” Levi said after a moment. “So later today I’ll come by and meet your mom. Then you can call me if you get bored, not ride your bike around empty streets.”

  Colton dropped his eyes and rubbed the tip of his sneaker along the broken concrete. “She sleeps late.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.”

  Levi put his hands in his back pockets. “You hear about some murders around here?”

  Now Colton’s head jerked up. “Yeah. But those were in the desert.”

  Levi shrugged.

  “Right?” Colton asked nervously.

  “What have you heard?” Levi asked.

  “Not a lot.”

  “Well I can tell you that the sheriff doesn’t know who those victims are. But I don’t think someone who’d be willing to murder someone else would care who their next victim is if they see a little boy out in the middle of the night all by himself.”

  Colton narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know if I like you.”

  “You don’t have to like me. Just don’t ride your bike at three in the morning by yourself while a murderer’s running around.”

  Colton glared at him.

  “Go on,” Levi nodded to the apartments. “Get home.”

  Colton straddled his bike, but paused. “You’re not from around here.”

  “Nope.”

  “You staying long?”

  Levi shrugged. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “How long it takes for me and Detective Redding to find that murderer.”

  Colton’s eyes got big. And interested. “You’re helping?”

  “Maybe.”

  Colton nodded and stared longingly toward the road. “Yeah. Not a lot of guys stay around.” He furtively looked at Levi, then away. “’Night.”

  “’Night, Colton.”

  The kid took off, pedaling slow, and disappeared into the courtyard.

  Levi frowned.

  Something about this place wasn’t right.

  *****

  Trish was first in to work. Like always. She played the nighttime messages as she made coffee and puttered around the office.

  Old Mrs. Feeney’s voice blasted into the empty office. “That dog is back on my property. The big black one. When do you plan on doing something about that?”

  Trish rolled her eyes.

  “Um, yeah, this is Tim over at The Rube. Just wanted to let you know there was a fight between Rusty Dodd and his cousin Mel Thompson. Stupid shit. But Rusty said he was going to come in and file a report. Rusty started the whole thing, so if he shows up, give me a call.”

  Another Rusty and Mel dust-up. Figures.

  Mary Lee Baker’s drunk voice hiccupped on the line. “Sheriff. My man left with all my beer and all my money. I wanta file a report.” Hiccup. “He’s a piece a shit. He’s gonna…” Trish couldn’t make out the rest of her words and then the phone clicked.

  “That boy is out there riding his bike again. It is three in the morning!” Mrs. Feeney shouted into the phone. “Shouldn’t he be sleeping? Where is his mother?”

  Wasn’t that the question. Trish hit the percolate button on the coffee maker and wandered back to her desk to stare at her wall.

  “Miss Trish?” the tiny voice of said boy who should be sleeping crept over her. She glanced out to where the machine still played. “I met your friend Levi. Is he okay? I mean, for me to talk to?” Pause. “Okay. Good night.”

  The messages ended and the machine whirred to a stop.

  Poor Colton. He and his mother lived in those newer, yet tired, apartments and most of the time Colton was on his own. Broke Trish’s heart.

  Apparently he’d met Levi. Trish didn’t have any idea if Levi was okay or not. She certainly didn’t think she and Levi were friends. But she supposed she didn’t have any choice but to tell Colton, and herself, that Levi was okay.

  Especially when she saw his shadow out of the corner of her eye, then his hulking body darken the door and attempt to open it. When he couldn’t, he cupped his hands around his eyes to look inside. She didn’t think he saw her in her office; he dropped his hands to his hips and spun around, his lips moving as he clearly started muttering to himself.

  Trish slowly wandered out to the glass doors, watching Levi and his effortless movements. The man really was beautiful. Trish’s face burned even thinking about it. He was handsome, so what? He probably knew it. Didn’t most men who were beautiful know it? Look at David Beckham. Gorgeous. Knew it. Smirked about it.

  Trish paused by the door.

  Levi pulled his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans. The pocket bore a phantom image of the phone, worn around the edges. Tight jeans. Tight ass.

  He turned abruptly and caught her staring. He grinned.

  Trish frowned, embarrassed. Damn man.

  She unlocked the door, went through the small foyer, and flicked the lock on the outer door. She didn’t push it open, instead whirled and walked back to her desk. Maybe by the time she made it there, her cheeks wouldn’t be flaming.

  No luck. She sat in her chair, listening to Levi prowl behind her. When he leaned against her door, he still smirked.

  “You got a boyfriend, Detective Redding?”

  Trish narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you worry about the case rather than my love life?”

  Levi hooked his thumbs into his pockets, drummed his fingers on his thighs. “Sure, Detective. I’ll worry about that. But that was clearly a no.”

  Trish simmered. “Coffee should be ready.”

  “I don’t want coffee.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He pushed off the door frame and stepped forward. He pulled a chair out and sat down. “Why don’t you tell me what the fuck’s going on? ’Cause that wall looks good,” he said pointing to the murder wall. “But you’re missing some shit. Not to mention your mayor is hiding something, the sheriff couldn’t give a shit about anything, and some little kid is riding his bike at three in the morning with a murderer running around.”

  “You met Colton,” Trish mumbled.

  “Yeah. Where the fuck is his mom? Where the fuck are the missing kidney and lung on your wall?” He leaned closer. “And what the fuck is wrong with your goddamn town?”

  Trish wanted to drop her head in her hands. But she didn’t. And she tried to answer him as best she could because honestly, she had no idea. “This town isn’t…right.”

  “Yeah, I figured.”

  “There’s an old Native American curse—”

  “Yeah, no,” Levi interrupted. “No stories. Just tell me everything you know about the mayor and what the fuck is going on.”

  Trish frowned. “This isn’t a story. Look, you used to be a theology professor. You know how serious people take this religion stuff.”

  “There’s no curse here.”

  “Yes there is, to hear them tell it.”

  “Them?”

  “The originals from the town. Old Mrs. Feeney, the Dodds, the mayor.”

  Levi dropped back in his chair. “Cut the bullshit.”

  “Fine. We have a lot of superstitious bastards in this town. Happy?”

  “That’s closer.”

  “Mrs. Feeney’s the worst. She swears that there are big black dogs running around, trying to drag people to hell. She has some dirt in her backyard that doesn’t ever grow anything so she says it’s a portal to hell. The Dodds are all drunks, but they’
re certain that they’ve seen insects turn into crows. Every single one of them is crazy.”

  But Levi didn’t laugh. Didn’t crack a smile. He regarded her with a funny look in his eye. “And the mayor?”

  “He thinks that since his family lost the mayor’s race three terms in a row that we’re all doomed. Why do you think he wants this to be a satanic curse?”

  “Who won the mayoral race for those three terms?”

  “A man named Sharpton Jefferson. He did not grow up here. He moved here from a big city in California, wanted to start over. He’s the one who built the apartments, even agreed to have the strip club so close. Land was set aside for an elementary/middle school and he’d been trying to get a manufacturing plant in here. And before you ask, he’s dead. Mayor Elliott ran unopposed the last time.”

  “Did Elliott run against Jefferson each time?”

  “From my understanding, Mayor Elliott wasn’t even here. He’d moved on to some great job in LA and couldn’t be bothered with Magnolia. But eventually, everyone comes home.”

  Levi frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean precisely that,” Trish snapped. “Everyone comes back. Look, there are no big fancy schools here. Hell, there aren’t even regular schools here. Colton’s got to go two towns over to make it to school. If you want an education, you leave. But you come back. There’s nothing here, but they come back.”

  Levi paused a moment. “Colton’s mom?”

  Trish gentled her tone. “His mom works at the strip club out by the highway. He’s seriously the only little boy in town. She was born and raised here, then left for school, but came back a few years ago. With Colton. The mayor has had her arrested for walking through the store. He says she’s tainted. Most of the people around here are all racist jerks,” she finished with a slight tremor to her voice. It wasn’t Colton’s fault that his father wasn’t white. But the mayor hated the kid. So did Mrs. Feeney. And all the other older residents.

  Levi nodded, stroking his beard. “So it’s a normal small town.”

  “You call this normal?”

  “Well, there might be a dash of Satan thrown in.”

  “Ha ha.” Trish snorted. “Very funny.”