Other than Aaron, the only people who knew about Cody’s incarceration were Sheriff Donovan, Sergeant Henderson, Deputy Copeland, the district attorney, and the mayor. The FBI had gotten one of these people to talk.
“He assaulted Chris Hollingsworth at school. You know, Mayor Hollingsworth’s son? That’s why he’s in custody.”
Agent Kelson raised his eyebrows. “In San Antonio? Right. Lost Maples is a bit out of Bexar County’s jurisdiction. Sounds like some kind of a cover up to me.”
“Yeah, you feds would know all about that, wouldn’t you?”
“Lieutenant, your sarcasm isn’t helping. We’re in Lost Maples to help you catch this killer. We know neither you nor Cody killed Peter Slavic. That’s obvious to us. What we don’t know is how your fingerprints ended up on the murder weapon.”
Aaron briefed the agents on the events leading to Peter Slavic’s murder, including the deaths of Randall Cunningham and Daniel Corbin. He showed them where he found Mr. Corbin’s remains in the field and the shed where he and Cody found the axe, the weapon used to kill Peter Slavic.
“You adopted Cody, right?” Agent Stone asked.
“Yeah, a couple of years ago.” What did that have to do with anything?
“Do you know if he had a twin?”
“A twin?” Not exactly. “No, he’s an only child, but that’s an interesting theory.” Aaron rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the black sedan. “Prior to this crap with the Mayor’s son, he’s never spent any time in juvenile detention. So how the hell did he end up with a file in JJIS?”
“That system is strictly maintained by the Department of Public Safety,” Agent Kelson said. “Someone would have had to transmit the information to them before creating a new record. I’ll contact DPS on Monday morning and find out where the info came from.”
Agent Stone leaned back against the fender of the car. “Have any enemies that might be interested in framing you or Cody for murder?”
“Aside from all the creeps I’ve put away over the years?”
Agent Stone tilted his head and jerked the sides of his mouth downward. “Okay, then. Have any recent enemies? Let’s say within the past year or two?”
“Only one, but he wouldn’t have been able to do it because he’s locked up in Huntsville.”
“Are you talking about Donald Luther?”
Aaron nodded.
“Who’s Donald Luther?” Agent Kelson asked.
“Former ME involved in that cult case in Austin a couple of years ago,” Agent Stone answered. “There could still be remnants of that cult we don’t know about. There’s also the recent case in Austin.” He nodded at Aaron. “The one you assisted the Travis County Sheriff’s Department with.”
“The one Agent Hirsch questioned you about?” Agent Kelson asked, emphasizing the deceased agent’s name.
Aaron shifted his eyes towards Agent Kelson. “We’re not going back there again, are we?”
“No, we’re not,” Agent Stone spoke for his partner. “Have you been in contact with this Donald Luther since his incarceration?”
“Yes, I have. I suspected cult involvement based on the religious messages left at the murder scenes… and the condition of the bodies.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“Just a bunch of end-of-the-world bullshit.” Aaron stepped away from the car. “You know, shit like killing Cody to save the world.”
Agent Stone smirked. “That’s right. I heard about how those cult wackos thought he had some crazy curse that was going to bring on the apocalypse. And would you believe some of them claimed a big three-headed monster killed all those people in Austin?”
“No kidding?” Aaron said with a straight face.
“A chimera.” Agent Stone shook his head. “Resorting to mythological creatures in order to avoid prison is pretty pathetic.”
“Jim believes in all that crap,” Agent Kelson stated. “Agent Hirsch. He’s our real-life version of Spooky Mulder in the Bureau. He’s into all that paranormal and unexplained phenomena stuff. Maybe why we haven’t seen him or Kramer since they came here. They finally got slimed by a ghost.”
The two agents looked at each other and laughed. “So, what do you say, Lieutenant?” Agent Kelson said. “You believe in ghosts?”
“No, and I think you guys watch way too much television.”
Agent Stone laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He checked his watch. “Well, I’m ready for some dinner. Any good restaurants in town you’d recommend?”
Aaron grinned. “Yeah, try Stan’s Eatery on the corner of Main and Rosewood. They have a little bit of everything.”
†
Cody listened to the rain and thunder while he lay on the bed in his small cell. His cellmate Fernando was snoring, sound asleep on the top bunk. Cody closed his eyes and tried to fall sleep, but violent and grotesque flashbacks kept him awake, reminding him of his dark past and the horrible things he’d witnessed, including the recent brutal deaths in Lost Maples.
He prayed for death. He had already attempted suicide once before, and he contemplated ways of doing it again. He could try to hang himself, but with what? Maybe find a way to slit his wrists? Again, with what? A spork?
The more Cody thought about his depressing life, the more he wished the priest at Saint Hedwig would have killed him on the altar. He thought about his mother, curled up in bed, and cried himself to sleep.
†
Aaron emptied his Glock 38 into a paper target at the local firing range on Sunday morning. All but three of his shots ripped through the head of the target. As Aaron loaded another magazine into his pistol, he felt a soft tap on his shoulder. He glanced over his shoulder. It was Sheriff Donovan, dressed in a suit.
“That’s some fine shootin’ there, Lieutenant.”
“I missed three times.” He pointed to the three holes around the head and pulled the target off the hanger.
“Can we chat outside for a minute?” Sheriff Donovan raised his voice over the sound of another patron firing his weapon.
“About what?”
“Cody.”
Aaron chewed on the inside of his upper lip as he contemplated whether he wanted to interrupt his stress-relieving activity. “All right, I’ll meet you outside.”
Aaron opened a fresh pack of cigarettes as soon as he stepped outside. The Sheriff was sitting on a bench near the entrance. Aaron lit a cigarette and sat next to his boss. “So, what exactly did you want to talk to me about?”
“I can only imagine what you and yer family are going through right now.” The Sheriff gathered his thoughts, and then said, “Did you talk to that attorney I recommended?”
“Maria did, but it didn’t go over well.”
“Really? What happened?”
“Without saying it in so many words, he felt Cody was screwed and we should make a deal with the DA.” Aaron stared at the burning embers on his cigarette. “Cody’s innocent, and if the attorney doesn’t believe he is, then what’s the point of hiring him?”
“I’m sorry, Aaron. I thought he could help ya’.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll find another one.”
“How about Slaughter, Payne, and Lynch? I shoulda recommended them instead.”
Aaron smiled. “Seriously? That’s the name of a real law firm?”
“All women, too.” Sheriff Donovan flipped through several business cards in his wallet. “Dang it. I ain’t got their card.”
“That’s all right. I’ll Google them or look in the yellow pages under the mob attorney category.”
Sheriff Donovan laughed. “You ain’t far off, buddy. They’ve represented some mighty shady people.”
“You’re not helping, Richard.”
“It’s a good firm. You’ll thank me later.” The Sheriff slapped Aaron on the knee and got up from the bench. “Well, I’d better get going. Got a pot roast waiting fer me at home.”
“Sounds good.”
“Best pot
roast in Lost Maples,” Sheriff Donovan said proudly. As he walked towards his car he yelled, “I’ll bring ya’ some fer lunch tomorrow.”
“My mouth is watering already.”
Aaron grabbed his keys and got in his Corvette. He turned the key, but the engine didn’t start. The ignition just clicked several times. “Oh, come on.”
With the hood pulled back, Aaron inspected the engine, making sure all the connections were tight. He also jacked the front end of the car and gave the starter a few whacks with a screw driver. That got the engine started, but then smoke rose from underneath the hood.
Aaron rested his head on the steering wheel and shut the engine off. “God, Maria is never going to let this one go.”
†
Maria leaned against the bannister on the front porch and shook her head as a tow truck operator eased Aaron’s Corvette off the flatbed onto the driveway. She waited for Aaron to pay the driver before she approached him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Aaron said, and pointed at the car. “I’m not selling it.”
“I didn’t say anything, but now that you’ve mentioned it…”
“Ain’t gonna happen,” Aaron said, as went inside the house.
Maria followed him inside. Samantha was playing with her new rabbit in the living room.
“Hi, Aaron!” Samantha greeted him and picked up the rabbit. “Want to hold Lucky? He’s really soft.”
Aaron smiled half-heartedly and held the rabbit in his arms. The rabbit wiggled its nose and struggled to break free.
“Here.” Aaron handed the rabbit back to Samantha. “It doesn’t seem to like me holding it. And make sure you clean up after that thing if it poops on the floor. And wash your hands before dinner.”
While the family ate Maria’s stir fry, the rabbit hopped over to Aaron’s side. It stood on its hind legs and placed its front paws against Aaron’s leg while wiggling its nose like a dog begging for a treat. Aaron formed a half smile and fed the rabbit a piece of broccoli.
Samantha giggled. “You see? The bunny does like you.”
“It is kind of cute,” Aaron admitted, while he scratched the top of the rabbit’s head.
Samantha got up from the table. “Can I go play with Lucky in my room?”
Maria pointed downward. “Not until you eat the broccoli on your plate.”
“Aaron’s feeding all of his to Lucky.”
Aaron looked up while he held out another piece of broccoli to the rabbit. It snatched the vegetable from his hand and hopped away. “Oh, give her a break, Maria. She ate most of it.”
“Fine, but you’re washing the dishes first. And make sure you put Lucky in his cage before you go to bed.”
“I will,” Samantha promised.
She played with the rabbit in the living room while Aaron and Maria finished eating. The rabbit followed the girl around as she cleared the table and washed the dishes. Aaron and Maria sat on the couch to watch a movie, while Samantha completed her chore.
“All done,” Samantha said, with the rabbit in her arms. “Good night.”
“Good night?” Maria said. “It’s only seven-thirty.”
“I know.” She kissed her mother and held the rabbit out to Aaron. “Give Lucky a kiss goodnight.”
“I don’t think so.”
Samantha giggled and gave Aaron a kiss on the cheek. “Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night, Sam.”
“Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” Maria reminded.
“Do I ever?” Samantha asked, and scampered out of the living room.
†
Samantha snuck some vegetables into her bedroom and played with Lucky on her bed until she dozed off. She fell asleep with the soft, furry rabbit resting on her chest. Lucky snuggled up to her chin and closed its eyes. As he dreamed about large gardens full of carrots and a little playful girl chasing him, something woke him. He opened his eyes as someone lifted him off Samantha’s chest. He kicked his legs and let out a petite squeak as it was carried away from the warmth of the girl’s body.
A tight pressure around its body caused him to stop struggling. It was time to sleep in that metal house that the man and girl had built for him. Samantha was supposed to lock him inside before she went to sleep. A hand reached for a yellow switch on the wall and flipped it downward. Lights out, but he wasn’t placed in the cage. Instead, he was carried outside. Lucky spotted the garden where it would steal vegetables, but it wasn’t carried there. It was carried further, towards the garage. The door opened with a loud, mechanic buzz.
He was then carried inside, held by the scruff of his neck, and dropped into a black trash bag. He kicked and squeaked while the human hands twisted the bag tight around his body. Lucky struggled to breathe and couldn’t move. In a panic, he chewed a hole through the plastic and stuck his small head through it. He sucked in some air, then shrieked in terror as his head swung towards a brick wall.
†
Samantha woke up to the smell of fried bacon. Soft fur tickled her chin, reminding her that she’d forgotten to put Lucky in his cage before going to sleep. But that was just fine with her. She closed her eyes and smiled while petting the rabbit’s soft fur. As she ran her hand from his head down his back, something didn’t feel right. It felt… thin.
She opened her eyes and tilted her head down. Her eyes grew wide. Lucky’s eyes were bulged out of their sockets and his mouth was disfigured and agape. His skinned hide was stretched over her chest. Dried blood stained the soft fur.
Samantha tossed the rabbit skin off her chest and screamed. It landed in the middle of her bedroom with the meaty side facing up, eliciting another hysterical cry for her mother.
CHAPTER THIRTY
The Truth Shall Set You Free
Cody sat in between Aaron and Maria and waited for his attorney to say something… anything. Allison Slaughter set a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the metal table in the small conference room at the Bexar County Juvenile Probation Department, which was located next door from the detention center. She thumbed through the contents of a manila folder in her hands, glancing at Cody periodically as she read the information in the case file.
The attorney finally took a seat in front of her clients. She drank some of the coffee and opened the file in front of her. Without making eye contact with any of the three people seated across from her, she said, “I’m going to be brutally honest here. This does not look good at all. We’ve got fingerprints, DNA, motive…” She lifted her head and addressed Cody. “And your confession.”
“I didn’t hurt anybody,” he said, while breaking eye contact.
“Then why did you confess to killing Randall Cunningham and Daniel Corbin?” She pulled a document from the file and read from it. “I killed the bastard. I cut him up into little pieces with an axe and then buried him in the pasture.” She paused for a brief moment. “Did you say that about Daniel Corbin?”
“I… I didn’t mean it.”
“And did you mean it when you said you killed Randy Cunningham to send a message to that, and I quote, ‘fat-ass Peter Slavic?’”
“He was upset,” Aaron said. “He didn’t mean it.”
“I only said those things to get Aaron and Sergeant Henderson off my back,” Cody said, raising his voice. “I never killed anybody. I’ve never even been to Maple Hills Park, and I couldn’t have made it from my house all the way to the park and back without a car.”
“He has a point there, Miss Slaughter,” Maria said.
“He could have used one of your cars. I know of a few kids younger than Cody that have snuck out in the middle of the night and borrowed their parents’ vehicles to do some pretty stupid stuff… including my own son.”
“Well, that didn’t happen here,” Maria said. “I have GPS tracking in my car, so I would have known if he did. And Aaron’s car doesn’t work half the time.”
Aaron glanced at Maria with a scruff look on his face. “In case you haven’t noticed, Cody’s st
ature would make that a bit difficult in an old Corvette, particularly with managing the clutch.”
“I believe you, but you must understand that the prosecution is going to do everything they can to pin all three deaths on Cody. Maybe even you, Mr. Sanders. They have evidence that makes you, Cody, or both of you, prime suspects. That would also explain—”
“We were both here in San Antonio when Peter Slavic died. Someone planted the evidence. I’m sure of it. There’s something else going on here.”
“As I said before, I believe you, but you’ll need to make a decision on how this will play out. Cody can enter a plea of innocent and we can go to trial. He’ll be tried as an adult, and if convicted, may spend most of his life in prison.”
Cody rested his forehead in his hands.
“Or you can let me arrange a plea agreement with the DA in Lost Maples.”
“No, absolutely not,” Maria said. “That is not an option. I already rejected one lawyer for suggesting that already. Can you help prove Cody’s innocence or can’t you?”
“It’s not that simple, Mrs. Sanders.” She placed Cody’s file in front of Maria. “Unless the FBI and your local law enforcement can provide us with evidence to help prove someone else committed these crimes, I believe the best course of action is to convince the DA to move the case to the juvenile court system. Worst case scenario, Cody spends the rest of his childhood in a place like this with mandated therapy. With Cody’s past history, I believe I can relate everything to post-traumatic stress.”
“There is no scientific evidence that PTSD could contribute to homicidal behavior,” Maria said, while sliding the case file across the desk back to the attorney. “He did not do these things. It is that simple.”
“You were bullied at Saint Hedwig, right?” the attorney asked Cody while taking another sip of coffee.
He nodded.
“Here is what I’m thinking: You experienced quite a traumatic event where you almost lost your life. Then you began to relive that experience when Randy and Peter continuously bullied you at school. You tried to ignore it and just live with it, but they kept pushing your buttons and you finally snapped.”
Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2) Page 35