by Ink Blood
“The drunkard made it sound like he believed that Christopher’s my son.”
“That sounds to me like a motive.”
“What a drunken gossip?”
“If Martin believed that Janet cheated with you and that Christopher’s your son. That’s enough to drive a man to insanity. Every time he’d look at either one of them gossip would grow and he would start seeing things that isn’t really there. It’d be like his trust was already gone. Like a cancer infesting him until he snaps.”
Andrew slowed to the speed limit as he entered town. He pulled into a parking lot at a supermarket.
*~*~*
*VIII*
Martin woke up dripping from sweat. His head echoed the sound of his screaming still ringing through his ears. His mouth was dry and his throat felt raw. He looked down at his hands, examining them from all angles. He covered his face and breathed deeply. The smell of blood overwhelmed him. He tried to get up, his legs felt like they were not there. He sat down too fast and fell into the couch.
Martin wiped the sweat from his face with the bottom end of his shirt. He could smell sweat, and he could smell blood. He closed his eyes.
He stood up, steadied himself and stumbled to the kitchen. He opened the fridge door. He took the beers and a bottle of gin out and slammed the door, he was off balance. He stumbled back to the couch he fell into it. He didn’t open the beer. He placed the sealed bottle on the table after sweeping the papers, books and clothing off to the side. He stared at it but saw nothing. He saw only the child sleeping peacefully then he wasn’t. Blood stained his hands the beers and bottle of gin.
He stood up and stumbled away from the small coffee table. He fell over something. He crushed to the floor. His mind was blank and the images of his recent nightmare rushed through again, it played over and over like a broken record. More and more blood dripped from his hands.
He pulled himself to the nearest wall, sat up with his back against it and sunk his face into his hands. He wept softly at first.
The weeping echoed through the house. His body trembled more and more. Martin screamed and curled into a tighter ball.
He sobbed uncontrollably.
*~*~*
*IX*
“Let’s just stop here and think this through before we speak to the sheriff here.” Andrew decided and turned off the engine, and opened the window slightly. “I can’t believe that Martin would believe something like Janet cheats just from conversations in a bar, he’s not that gullible.”
“Maybe he overheard or saw something that he could’ve misinterpreted.”
“No, there was nothing like that between us. For some time before this whole thing started Janet and I didn’t see each other that much. She mostly stayed at home. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but maybe he started to see things then. To tell you the truth I think I was too busy and didn’t even notice anything’s wrong. She did phone occasionally but didn’t mention anything. When we did see each other it was just taking her home or picking her up and taking her to the office. If something was wrong, she would’ve told me.”
“What if Martin was threatening her forcing her to be quiet?”
Andrew fell silent in thought. “Even if...”
“Maybe he found something.”
Andrew felt sad, fighting to hold back the tears. “Whatever it was he made a dreadful mistake.”
“So, now he’s was angry, drunk and hurt. What did he do?”
“Stay longer and drink more than he should.” Andrew predicted.
“These thoughts in his mind and alcohol don’t mix.”
“He got drunker, angrier and thinking more that the rumors are true.”
“He went where? Home…?”
“He had to go somewhere eventually.” Andrew admitted softly.
“Evidently..?”
“He went home, to confront Janet about her alleged affair, most likely.”
“Probably the worst thing he could’ve done in his state of mind but most likely.” Helen agreed.
“So now he was home and he started confronting Janet.”
“If she was innocent she would defend herself.”
“Yes and he got angrier. One thing I’ve learned was that you can’t argue with someone who’s drunk. For some reason they don’t listen to reason.” Andrew informed.
“So the fight accelerated.”
“Christopher woke up from all the noise and looked for his mother.”
“Naturally, maybe he got in the way.”
“Janet tried to comfort him and ignored Martin. Maybe she tried to leave the house with him to give Martin time to cool off. He tried to stop her and something happened while he was in a rage fit.”
“Maybe out of anger he hit her or the child?”
“I can’t imagine that but evidently something happened. Something went terribly wrong. Before he realized what happened it was over.”
“What do you think he did next?” Helen asked.
Andrew cleared his throat. “He had to hide it, come up with the story that they left town.”
“He dumped the bodies where he knew no one will ever find them.” Helen predicted as Andrew tried to avoid the thought.
“Yes, in the worst area of the lake.” He admitted in a soft trembling voice.
“At the rock faces the perfect place. No one ever goes there because it’s so inaccessible.”
“He covered his tracks with Janet’s credit cards and blew off anything that happened at the lake as nonsense, he started falling apart because Janet was haunting him and the lake. He realized he couldn’t hide it and did what anyone would’ve done.”
“He ran away.”
“Like a coward with his tail between his legs.” Andrew added.
“Well it sounds possible, you don’t have any proof, do you?”
“I don’t have enough to proof it yet.”
“If he argues that it’s a crime of passion he might walk away. Maybe even a reduced sentence.”
“Possible, but I think we need to proof he knew what he was doing. If it was a crime of passion and he knew the law, why did he cover it up for so long? Why didn’t he report the matter instead of throwing the bodies in the lake? Even if he realized enough to do that than he had time to think, a crime of passion wouldn’t stick.”
“What about temporary insanity? That would set him free.”
Andrew was cold and detached. “I’ll do anything to prevent that from happening. He knew what he was doing when he covered his tracks and that’s not insane, not even temporary.”
The rain had stopped and people appeared walking at a lazily pace. No one paid them any attention.
Andrew placed a call from his cell phone.
“Maybe my deputy has spoken to the drunken man and found out more about what he had said.” He paused and waited for someone to answer the phone.
“Do you remember the drunken man from the other day...? Did you get a statement from him...? What’s the reason why you didn't...? So you just released him? What happened...?
Deputy Davis, I’m not concerned about that. I asked you specifically to get him to explain the accusations he made toward me. I wanted to know what he was accusing me of... Fine I’ll get to him later. I return in a couple of days maybe sooner...” He ended the call and turned to Helen. “I’m working with an idiot.”
“Who the deputy, he seems a little young.”
“He just completed school and wants to be a police officer.”
Andrew pulled out of the parking lot a found the sheriff’s office two blocks down. He walked into the office and scanned the area for the sheriff. He saw no one except an officer behind the desk. He walked closer and waited for the officer to finish his conversation with a woman sobbing.
“Good day I need to speak to your sheriff please.” He announced as Frank walked in behind him.
“Yes, I’m Sheriff Frank Godwin, what can I do you for?”
Andrew turned sharply. “I’m Sheriff An
drew Foster from Hazy View. This is a witness Helen James-Leigh. Can we talk?”
“Is it that urgent?”
“If it wasn’t I would’ve sent you a memo or just placed a call. I’m afraid it’s very urgent and serious.”
“Let’s talk in my office.” Frank invited and pointed to a small office in the corner.
*~*~*
*X*
The rain stopped as sudden as it had started. It didn’t hammer the roof of the house any more. The wind calmed, the tree outside the window wasn’t scratching against the walls anymore. The sun started to shine again. Martin wanted to know nothing of that because he closed all the windows with heavy curtains.
For the first time in days Martin had showered and dressed into clean clothes. His body odor overwhelmed him that he felt robbed of air. He felt different and reenergized something he had deprived himself of. He feared the water more than he feared the darkness. Finally he realized it was enough and took the bull by the horns.
He was on the couch now, watching some movie that didn’t make much sense to him. At least he had stopped sobbing. He drowned himself in the bottle of gin which fell to half. The beer cans were empty and scattered around the table and couch. A bottle of pain killers were open and standing on the coffee table next to the bottle of gin. There was no food around, it was clear that he hadn’t eaten and was now feeling the full effect of the alcohol and painkillers.
Martin’s eye was distant and dazed. He couldn’t see, feel or think. When he’s like this, the darkness won’t think of him as dead even if it had found a way into the house. He looked dead. He couldn’t move, not even to change the channel. He stayed in the same moment. He couldn’t even lift the bottle of gin to his mouth that drooled from the corners. He could close his eyes, and he did. He heard nothing, saw nothing, and dreamed nothing. For the first time in four months he had peace.
*~*~*
*XI*
Frank Godwin was short and overweight. His gun belt hung low, his legs short and awkward looking, and his hair reddish and short. Andrew and Helen followed him into his small lightly furnished office.
Frank sat behind the desk with a grunt. “I’m ready to hear your story. Please take a seat.” He invited.
“Well it’s a little hard to explain and as far as proof goes, I don’t really have much of that, but I’m working on it.”
“But still you drove all the way from Hazy View to do what?”
“To find someone...”Andrew started and paused.
“What does this have to do with my office, how do you need our support?”
“We’re investigating two counts of murder.”
“And I suppose your suspect’s hiding here?”
“It’s believed that a couple of months ago our old sheriff, Martin Parker had killed his son and wife and had thrown their bodies in our lake. He would’ve gotten away with it because nobody noticed the crime. It became evident that the victims ghosts had started to haunt the lake and attacking whoever came around the water.”
“Really and no one noticed that they were missing?” Frank asked shocked but intrigued.
“Martin told everyone in the town that his family had left and was staying at her family house. His wife’s parents had a farm around here. As far as I know the house had been standing empty for some time. They passed away some time ago and his wife hadn’t sold it, not as far as I know, although she might have had someone looking after the grounds. We believe that Martin’s hiding out there.”
“Martin who…?”
“Martin Parker.” Andrew informed quickly.
Frank sat backward deep in thought. “I don’t know him.” He finally admitted.
“He would’ve arrived a little more than a week ago.”
Frank rubbed his chin still thinking. “Doesn’t ring any bells, who were the wife’s parents?”
“Holloway.”
Frank sat up again. “Yes, now I know who you’re talking about. Their farm’s about three miles from here. Wait a moment. You aren't talking about Lisa are you?”
“No the other daughter, Janet Holloway...”
“You think he killed her and she’s haunting your lake?”
“Yes and she’s haunting my house. I just bought it from Martin before he left town.” Helen informed.
“So if you bought the house recently, how does this make you a witness?”
“Janet appeared to me with her son and insisted that I help her find the man that had killed them.”
“So you didn’t witness the actual murder?” Frank turned his attention to Andrew. “What proof do you have that this man staying on the farm had actually committed the crime?”
“He was the last person to see them. He had lied about them leaving town and he had used Janet’s credit card to establish that she had left town. There had also been dramatic changes in his behavior before he left. I’m waiting for the forensic lab to get back to me regarding test done on the house, his vehicle. There’s also evidence found where we believed he had dumped the bodies.” Andrew brought him up to speed.
“When’s forensics supposed to get back to you?”
“I need to contact them so they can send me the reports.”
“You can receive it here. This is the number.” Frank offered. He handed him his business card. “When do you want to go to the suspect?”
“As soon as I receive the fax, at least I’ll have something to wave at him.”
“To tell you the truth I'm very interested in hearing what you have. It’s not every day that we hear about ghosts pointing out their killers.”
Andrew picked up the phone and dialed the number given to him by Yvonne. After a short conversation he replaced the receiver and turned back to Frank.
“They said they would fax it through first thing in the morning. Could one of your vehicles just make a turn past the farm, just to make sure he’s still there?” Andrew asked disappointed.
“Sure. Do you have your case file here? I’d like to see it, purely out of interest if I may?” Frank asked excited. Clearly this was just another small town where nothing ever happened.
Walking out of the sheriff’s office Andrew handed Frank the case file through Helens vehicle window. With directions from the sheriff they found the bed and breakfast with ease. Helen and Andrew ordered dinner in and settle down for the night in two separate rooms. Within minutes the rooms were dark and quiet. Early in the morning a well-rested and refreshed Helen decided to wonder around town while Andrew returned to the sheriff’s office.
*~*~*
Chapter Six
*I*
Martin woke early with the sound of birds chirping in the large trees outside. A dog barked. It sounded like a vehicle passed close by the house, too close to be on the main road. His head was drumming. His ears echoed dull in the empty house. His mouth was dry and his eyes felt like sandpaper, every blink almost blinded him.
He heard something upstairs.
A hissing moan echoed from above bouncing off the walls. He turned sharply to the stairs. Something was stomping, knocking and echoed a cry so filled of rage that it made the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Martin’s body was numb and stiff by indecision. Should he hide? Should he run? Should he ready himself for the fight of his life?
“I left you behind. There’s no way you could’ve made it here. It won’t work. I will not let you do this anymore.”
Another bump, a loud stomp and scream so horrid burst through the silence it made Martin’s skin crawl.
“I will go again to where you will never find me.” He screamed and threw an overflowing ashtray toward the stairs.
The sound silenced the hissing stopped and the stomping faded.
A thick cold atmosphere hung in the air.
Martin grabbed clothing scattered around filling his hands as much as he could. “I need to leave. I’ve got to leave before they get me. I need to find somewhere far, where she can’t find me. I can’t let her find me again, not her or the
darkness.” He pauses. “I need a bag.”
Martin headed for the stairs then paused.
He stood for a moment listening, staring into the upstairs shadows. Going upstairs meant he would face whatever’s up there.
“Leave it.”
He headed out the door with bundles of clothes wrapped in blankets from the couch.
*~*~*
*II*
Andrew sat scanning the forensics report. He felt a strong sensation in the pit of his stomach. Something was wrong, very wrong. For some reason he felt the need to hurry. He needed to leave now, enough time’s wasted.
“My men who went out had assured me that there’s someone there. Now what do you want us to do?”
“I have this nagging feeling that we need to go. Actually I have the feeling that we should’ve been there already. It’ll be great if you and your men could back me up.”
“What do you mean?” Frank said upset. “You drove out here to come and spitball on my residents on a hunch that’s true. You have proof right there in your hands that he did what you claimed. Now you want me to stand by and watch you have all the fun?”
“I believe he’s in a fragile state.” Andrew answered.
“Fragile my ass, he’s a murderer. We go pick him up. If he sneeze in the wrong direction or just even thinks of fighting. Well I’ve a lot of men if you catch my drift.”
It seemed like Frank had been waiting a long time for some action, and by the look of it he had been spending his time in the diner.
All Andrew could do was smile. He could never have expected this reaction. “It wouldn’t be necessary for brute force. Thank you.”
“It’s not just that we’re bored, but a man that kills his family doesn’t breathe the same air as us.” Frank’s voice was strong.
“Fine, but I still believe there will be no need for force. Can we get going now please, I have the feeling we might already be too late.” Andrew said eager to get on the road.