Sam looked at Jerome and thought he might try to accomplish that, but didn’t want to give him false hope. “Well Mister Franklin, I really appreciate your assistance. You’ve provided some good information,” Sam said while he stood up.
“You can pay me back by sending Billy Stein to jail,” Jerome said while they shook hands.
“I’ll do my best.”
They walked away in separate directions.
While Sam walked through the park back to his car, his cell phone rang. He looked at the viewfinder and smiled.
“Hey Peter.”
“Bo Smithson lives at seventy-five ninety-eight Garrison Avenue in Jackson, Mississippi. He apparently grew up in Curtis, Mississippi,” Peter told him from the cell phone.
“Thanks. I’ll think I’ll pay that dumbass a visit,” Sam said while he disconnected his call.
Thirty minutes later, Sam was in his car and headed north to Jackson, Mississippi.
It was early in the evening.
Bo Smithson was overweight and bald, sat in his den of his five thousand square foot three hundred and fifty thousand dollar home. He drank scotch while he watched the TV show CSI: Las Vegas. He never married since he wasn’t attractive but found love with escorts he found on the Internet or streets.
His doorbell rang. Bo looked bothered and ignored it, as the show had him intrigued. The doorbell rang again, and he ignored. The doorbell kept on ringing continuously. Bo got irritated and knew if he didn’t go to the door, it would probably continue for hours.
He got up with his glass of scotch and walked out of the den.
He walked to his front door. He opened it and he immediately looked nervous when he saw Sam standing outside.
“Hello Bo. Remember me? Sam Woods?”
“Ah, yeah. Sam Woods. How the hell are you?”
“Are you going to invite me inside your beautiful home?”
“Ah, sure. Please come inside.”
Sam walked inside his home and Bo closed the door.
Sam looked around the living room that was furnished with expensive furniture. “I can't afford a house like this on my FBI pension. How can you?”
“Good investments while I was in the bureau. So, what brings you here?” Bo asked but knew the answer.
“I'm doing my own investigation into that old October Slayer case.”
“Oh yeah. The one you couldn’t solve and caused you to have a huge drinking problem,” Bo said to taunt Sam.
“The author of a book called A Killer’s Tale is based on the October Slayer and it was written by Allan Stein who grew up in Curtis, Mississippi. And his book had details only the killer and myself knew.”
“So then why are you seeing me?”
Sam looked around the living room. “Mind if I sit down? I’m exhausted from the long drive from Biloxi.”
Bo walked Sam over to the couch and sat down.
“I discovered Allan Stein, passed away. And since you're also from Curtis Mississippi, I was wondering if you knew his brother, Billy?”
Sam eyed the mahogany bookcase at the other wall of the living room.
“I knew of Billy just like everybody did in Curtis. I loved Chevy's and would buy my cars from his family’s dealership. Do you suspect he’s the killer?” Bo curiously asked.
“It could head in that direction. Why did you ask that?”
“Well, you asked about Billy,” Bo responded.
“Yes I did.”
Then Bo looked like he was scheming. “I know what, why don’t we hook up together. I can help with your little investigation. I mean, you must be doing an investigation since you’re up here in Mississippi asking about certain people,” Bo said. Then he saw Sam’s stare and wasn’t sure he would accept his offer. “I mean, I find it fascinating you’re apparently looking for that October Slayer. It’s about time that scumbag gets sent to jail,” Bo said and silently prayed Sam would accept.
Sam thought about Bo’s offer for a few seconds. “I don’t know. I heard you didn’t even try to solve the case after I went to Phoenix. Plus that book had the agent’s partner talking to the killer and passing on information to a fellow agent. Then that agent talked to the brother of the killer.”
Bo looked a little guilty. “I would never do that. I’ll be a valuable and trusted partner. Promise!” Bo replied and faked a look he was serious.
Sam thought about Bo’s response for a few seconds.
“Okay but you have to pay for our own expenses,” Sam said thinking he could trick Bo, since he’s stupid, to get evidence on Billy.
“That’s no problem.”
They shook hands to seal the deal.
Bo’s phone in the kitchen rang. “Please excuse me.”
Bo got up from the couch and walked in the direction of his kitchen.
When the coast was clear, Sam got up off the couch and rushed over to the bookcase.
He glanced at the books and saw copies of all of Allan’s books including A Killer’s Tale. Then saw a book of interest. He grabbed it and saw it was a 1960 Curtis High School yearbook. He flipped through some pages.
In the kitchen, Bo picked up his ringing phone. “Hello.”
“Bo, it’s me Billy.”
Bo made sure Sam wasn’t close by. “He’s here,” Bo quietly replied in the phone.
“Who’s there?” Billy replied from the phone.
“Sam Woods,” Bo quietly responded.
In the living room, Sam found the senior picture of Billy. Then on the same page, he found the senior picture of Bo. He closed the book and placed it back.
He looked at the drawers and opened one.
In the kitchen, Bo still talked on the phone. “He’s thinking you’re the killer,” Bo quietly said while he kept an eye on the entrance to the kitchen.
“Shit!” Billy yelled from the phone.
In the living room, Sam found a photo album in one of the drawers. He opened it up and flipped through the pages. He found some pages of old pictures of Bo and Billy fishing in a lake from a boat.
Sam quickly placed the album back and walked out of the kitchen.
“What do you want me to do?” Bo quietly asked.
“Where's the bathroom?” Sam asked from the kitchen doorway. Bo got startled and he jumped a little with a little scream.
“There's one down the hall to the left,” Bo replied while he looked nervous.
“Where is he now?” Billy asked while Bo saw Sam standing in his kitchen doorway.
“Answer me dumbass,” Billy yelled from the phone.
Bo stared at Sam who stared back. It was a nervous moment for Bo and he didn’t know what to do. “Thanks,” Sam finally spoke and walked away.
“Dip shit, are you there?” Billy yelled from the phone.
“Yes, he was in the kitchen,” Bo quietly responded.
“That bastard. He came to my dealership earlier and pretended to be that FBI character in Allan’s book,” Billy replied from the phone.
“I struck a deal with Sam.”
“What the hell do you mean you struck a deal with him?” Billy yelled out.
“I offered to work with him.”
“You what?” Billy screamed.
“Cool down. This could work in your favor.”
“How the fuck can this work in my favor?” Billy yelled.
“I’ll be on the inside and can manipulate his investigation to throw him off you. You know, send him on a wild goose chase that will lead nowhere. Plus if he finds any evidence, I’ll give it to you.”
There was a moment of silence. “I do need to get my hands on that wooden chest that Allan hid somewhere. So, how much will this cost me?”
Bo thought for a few seconds. “Well, I think fifty thousand dollars would be fair. After all, he could accidently discover some other information about our past business arrangement,” Bo said with a smirk knowing he had Billy just where he wanted him for once in his life.
There was a moment of silence, and then Bo heard the
toilet flush down the hall. “Okay, we’ll meet tonight and I’ll have the money,” Billy said then there was a few seconds of silence. “But if you fuck me over, I’ll make sure it’s known that you love fucking underage boys,” Billy threatened.
“Have I fucked you over for the past forty-three years?”
“No.”
“Good, I want my money tonight,” Bo demanded.
There was a few seconds of silence. “Okay, we’ll meet at Hoo Hoo Park that’s north of Jackson at two in the morning. You should be familiar with that place,” Billy said.
“Fucking funny,” Bo snapped back.
“It’s that place or the deal is off.”
“Okay, I’ll meet you at two,” Bo said then hung up the phone.
Bo left the kitchen and headed to the living room.
He got nervous when he didn’t see Sam. He turned around just as he entered the room.
“Well, it’s getting late and I better get to my hotel room.”
Bo walked Sam to the front door.
“So, are we going to start first thing in the morning?” Bo asked and looked excited.
“Sure. Meet me at eight in the morning at the Waffle House in front of my hotel. It’s the Quality Inn off Moore’s Avenue.”
“Great. But why don’t you quickly fill me in on the information you’ve uncovered so far.”
Sam thought for a few seconds. “No, I’ll update you tomorrow morning. You better be there by eight, as I have a long drive home and want to be on the road before nine.”
“Okay, eight in the morning,” Bo said then opened up the door for Sam.
He watched while Sam walked to his car in the driveway then he closed his door.
“I’ll squeeze more money out of Billy as things progress,” Bo sang while he did a victory dance around the living room.
Sam arrived at his hotel room, and got ready for bed. He just got under the covers when his cell phone rang.
“Sam Woods,” he answered.
“Mister Woods, I’m Wendy Graham. An old friend of mine Pam Woods called me. She told me about your interest with Billy my ex-husband. Well, if you want to talk, I live in Los Angeles,” Wendy responded from Sam’s cell phone.
“Wendy. I’m so glad you called. I would love to talk with you about Billy. I can come to Los Angeles whenever you like. The sooner the better.”
“How about the day after tomorrow? I’m going to New York with my husband after that day for a week.”
“Perfect,” Sam said.
“Call me with your flight information and I’ll arrange for someone to pick you up. Then we’ll meet,” Wendy said.
“I will and thanks Wendy,” Sam replied.
“We’ll talk later,” Wendy said then disconnected her end of the call.
Sam did a little victory dance then remembered his deal with Bo. Sam thought for a few seconds. Sam decided to tell Bo that they’ll start together in a few days.
Sam closed his eyes. His eyes opened in a panic when he forgot something. He quickly made another phone call on his cell phone.
“It’s late Sam, why are you calling?” Cindy answered a little groggy as he woke her up.
“Listen honey, I have to fly out to Los Angeles,” Sam said.
“Where are you now?”
“I’m in Jackson, Mississippi.”
“When are you going out there?”
“I’ll drive down to Daytona, get a change of clothes then head to the Orlando airport. So the day after tomorrow.”
“Kristen’s play is in a few days.”
“I know, I’ll make it there in time.”
“I think you’ll be cutting it too close.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll make it, I promise.”
“You better,” Cindy replied irritated. She disconnected her end of the call.
He got ready for bed and was asleep in ten minutes.
Meanwhile, in Kissimmee, Florida, Becky fell asleep watching old home videos with Allan. Marty was halfway through reading Allan’s book for the second time.
Chapter 25
It was two in the morning and dark in Hoo Hoo Park. The parking lot was empty except for Bo. He waited in his Impala for Billy to show up with his money.
Car headlights shone inside from his rear window. Bo smiled knowing it was Billy.
Billy parked his brown Malibu next to Bo’s Impala. He got out and rushed over to Bo’s car. He sat in the passenger seat.
“Why can't that jerk leave things alone?” Billy immediately blurted out when he sat down. “Are you sure you didn't tell Woods anything?”
“I didn’t. You can trust me. He doesn't have a clue of our connection. Like I said earlier, with me helping, he’ll never learn the truth. I’ll have him chasing his tail to where he’ll get tired and quit,” Bo said with a tone of confidence.
“Okay, let me get your money out of my car,” Billy said then opened the door and got out.
Bo looked excited while he watched Billy rush over to the passenger door of his car.
Billy hid both his hands behind his back while he rushed back to Bo’s car. He stood by Bo’s driver’s door. He motioned him to roll down his window.
Bo rolled down his window and was really looking forward to all that cash. I’ll get a really nice escort. Bo thought to himself while he licked his lips in anticipation of a hot brunette with jumbo jiggly breasts.
Billy tossed a gay nudie magazine into Bo’s lap with his left hand in a latex glove.
Bo picked up the magazine and looked at the cover. He looked confused for a second.
“Here’s your payment,” Billy said the second his right hand in a latex glove appeared with a Glock with silencer. This pistol was never registered to Billy. He bought it from an old KKK member, ten years ago, who was in dire need of some cash.
Bo looked expecting an envelope full of cash. By the time Bo realized Billy had a pistol aimed at his head, it was too late. The bullet penetrated his forehead. Blood and brains splattered the inside of his car. Bo’s dead body slumped over the console.
Billy removed his hanky from his pocket and carefully opened up the driver’s door. “Sorry Bo, I can’t take any chances with a dumb ass helping Woods,” he said. He unbuckled Bo’s belt, unzipped his pants then lowered them down to his ankles.
He removed Bo’s wallet, and he rushed back to his Malibu.
He got inside his car and drove away.
While Billy drove out of the Park, he didn’t notice the two individuals hidden in the shadows of the dark woods. They saw the whole episode.
He drove off and headed north back to Curtis.
Later that night, Billy got home. He hid the Glock and Bo’s wallet under his spare tire.
He rushed inside his house.
Billy rushed to his computer in his den, and he powered it up. When it was ready, he immediately opened up a Word file and started typing.
Sam rose up at seven that morning and checked out of his hotel.
He had breakfast at the Waffle House at 8:00 and waited for Bo.
Nine that morning rolled around and Bo never showed up. Sam left. He was disappointed but was kind of glad, since he wanted to work alone.
He hit the road and headed south down Interstate I-55 with his usual five miles over the speed limit.
Meanwhile, Billy also rose up early after getting a few hours of sleep. He packed some clothes in a suitcase. After that, he called his office. He told them he was staying home for a few days and didn’t want to be disturbed.
He left his house with his suitcase.
On his way south, Billy stopped off and dropped a letter in a mailbox in Jackson.
He got back in his car and headed south.
Later that day, Billy headed south on I-95. He normally speeds, but this time he was a poster child for safe driving and kept it five miles over the speed limit.
Later that afternoon, Sam drove south down I-95. He didn’t realize that Billy was a few miles behind him in the Malibu.
> “I’m at greater risk with being killed on America’s Interstate than chasing killers,” Sam said while numerous cars whizzed past him twenty miles over the speed limit.
Sam didn’t realize that Billy was only a few car lengths behind his car. Billy was on the hunt and Sam was his prey.
Later that evening, Sam pulled into the driveway of his house. The garage door opened. Sam pulled into the garage then the door closed.
Billy pulled his Malibu across and street. He saw the lights turn on inside Sam’s house.
He drove away happy.
Inside Sam’s house, he immediately got on his computer and made reservations for a direct flight from Orlando to Los Angeles. He was lucky with reserving a seat for a flight first thing in the morning. He then called Wendy and gave her the information.
Sam got ready for bed and was soon fast asleep.
Elsewhere in Daytona, Billy parked his car in a Wal-Mart parking lot. He crawled in the backseat with a blanket and went to sleep.
Sam rose up early in the morning and packed an overnight bag for this short trip to Los Angeles.
Billy also rose up early and was waiting in his Malibu down the street from Sam’s house.
Sam drove south on Interstate I-95.
An hour later, he headed west on 528, the Beachline, to get to the Orlando International airport. While Sam drove down the Beachline, he made a call to Cindy to let her know he was heading to the airport. It was a short call since Cindy wasn’t interested in talking. Sam knew he would have to make it up to her somehow and it would have to be the trip to North Carolina.
Billy trailed Sam’s car down the Beachline.
Sam drove down the airport roads and headed to the parking lot. Billy trailed Sam’s car.
A little while later, Billy drove back out of the airport when he realized Sam was flying off to somewhere.
Confession Page 28