Bullet Beth

by James Patrick Hunt

  It was a new experience for George Hastings. Not so much the being sued, though that itself was new. But mainly it was having to rely on someone else to get him out of trouble. He was usually the one taking care of people. His family, the officers under his command, the victims of crime. Yet with Henry Brummell, Hastings was the one who needed guidance and direction. On this matter, Brummell was in charge. A police officer’s relationship with lawyers is generally adversarial. For cops, the lawyers are usually the enemy. Until they needed a lawyer. Hastings trusted Brummell and was coming to like him. Still, it was uncomfortable placing his fate in someone else’s hands. But he knew he had no choice.

  Hastings went to his computer and typed up his notes, summarizing his interview with Jeff Lacroix. It took his mind off the lawsuit…a little. When he was finished, he thought about Lacroix. Hastings would check with the witnesses at the dog park to ensure that both Aaron and Lacroix had alibis the night of Johnny Rodgers’s murder. Hastings was about ninety nine percent sure both of them were clean. Lacroix was an interesting character. Gay lineman for the Missouri Tigers. Klosterman would get a kick out of that.

  Things had changed since Hastings was a rookie patrol officer. Back then, cops freely used the word fag. They were discouraged from doing that now. Though the department certainly didn’t put it in the same league as using racial epithets. Like any patrol officer, Hastings had mediated many domestic disputes, particularly when he worked night shift. Most of them were between men and women. A good many of them involved domestic assault, hauling away the husband in handcuffs while the wife with the black eye screams at them to leave her man alone. A handful of disputes involved gay couples. A police officer is as much a social worker as he is an enforcer of law, if not more so. Hastings had seen just about everything human nature had to offer. Despite what he had said to Jeff Lacroix, very little shocked him anymore and that included a healthy relationship between two gay men.

  Around the time Hastings was in the police academy, there had been an incident in Milwaukee that was discussed at one of the training classes. A couple of patrolmen were called to investigate a teenage Laotian boy running naked in a low income neighborhood. The boy spoke hardly any English, though he said “no” a lot. A white man in his thirties came out to the street and told the cops that the Laotian was his boyfriend and assured them they were just having a sort of lover’s spat. Ignoring the protests of the neighbors, the cops carried the boy back into the white man’s apartment. After the cops left, the white man killed the Laotian and cut him up into little pieces. The white man’s name was Jeffrey Dahmer.

  A lot of police officers would later argue that the Milwaukee cops could not have had any idea they were handing the boy over to a notorious serial killer. Though one of the students in the class commented that the boy’s last thought was probably a Laotian version of, “These cops have fucked me.”

  Well…what did it matter now? Johnny Rodgers wasn’t a defenseless boy, he was a man. Jeff Lacroix said he was a loser who no one would think about killing. Karen was a shit for suggesting he was wasting the department’s time and resources, but maybe she had a point. Maybe Klosterman was right too. If the evidence isn’t there, you couldn’t will the homicide into existence.

  Hastings told himself he would call the dog park witnesses before he made a decision on whether or not to close the case. He showered and climbed in bed. But when he got there, thoughts of the lawsuit and the deposition came back to him and prevented him from sleeping.

  At ten twenty nine and twenty seconds the producer told Beth they were light, so she exchanged banter about the weather with meteorologist and then she said goodnight. She timed it perfectly. She went to her dressing room to cream off her makeup and then she checked the messages on her cell phone.

  The first one was from some auto dealer she had met at a fundraiser. He had money and told her about his place in Aspen and how he played football for Notre Dame and stories of the Formula One racers he had known in Europe, but she knew he wasn’t the fifty-five he claimed to be. More like sixty-five, maybe even seventy. God. Some of these old codgers thought she’d believe anything. More delusional than women. The auto dealer said he’d love to take her dinner and share some French wine with her and to call him when she could.

  The second message was from a woman in her twenties she had met while having lunch with some friends downtown. The young lady said it had been just wonderful to meet her, I mean, a real honor, and would she like to have coffee with her sometime and just talk? Beth remembered this one vaguely. A fat girl with bull shoulders who said she’d always dreamed of working in broadcast news. Beth deleted the message.

  The third one was from Aaron Peterson. He said he was starting to feel stressed out about this Johnny thing and could she call him right away?

  Jeff was asleep when she returned his call.

  Beth said, “What’s the matter?”

  “Some cop’s asking about Johnny.”

  Beth waited for a moment. To her knowledge, Aaron didn’t know anything. She had met Aaron only once. That was when Johnny brought him along to meet her when they had coffee in the west end. Johnny showing off his friendship with her, the dumbshit. Johnny and Aaron both crowing over her like she was Cher.

  Now Beth said, “So what?”

  “Well, I don’t know. It’s probably nothing. I thought he killed himself. Or just got drunk and fell in the lake. You know Johnny.”

  “Well, I didn’t know him that well,” Beth said. “What happened was tragic.”

  A pause. Beth waiting for Aaron to say something else.

  And Aaron said, “Well, to tell you the truth, I am kind of worried about something.”

  Christ, Beth thought. He could be taping what she was saying. Stay cool. She said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why don’t you come over,” Beth said. “Alone.”

  “Come over…you mean your house?”

  “Yes. We’ll talk.” She gave him her address. It was not listed in the telephone book.

  “You mean now?” Aaron said.

  “Yes,” Beth said. “I’m kind of a night person anyway. But, Aaron? Come alone. I don’t want a lot of people knowing where I live. I don’t give my address out to anyone.”

  “Well, I guess I could. Jeff’s asleep. He has to teach tomorrow.”

  “Come over,” Beth said, her voice warm and soothing. “We’ll have a glass of wine and talk about what’s bothering you. I’d kind of like to talk, myself. You know, I miss him too.”

  A half hour later, Aaron pressed the buzzer to Beth Tanner’s home in Clayton. She pressed the switch to open the gate and Aaron pulled his Toyota Solara convertible up to the front door of her house.

  She answered the door in her pajamas and a kimono. Her hair pulled back in a pony tail.

  She smiled and apologized for her appearance.

  Aaron said, “Don’t be ridiculous. You look ravishing.”

  “You’re sweet,” Beth said. “It’s a lovely night. Would you like to sit by the pool?”

  Aaron said that would be lovely. She took him through the house and to the back yard. Aaron almost gasped at what he saw. Her pool was not some middle class, kidney shaped hole in the ground. It was long and rectangular and surrounded by exquisite brick work and on the far side there was a sort of stone bleachers. Aaron figured it must have cost around two hundred thousand dollars.

  Steam wafted above the clear blue water.

  “Wow,” Aaron said. “I guess it’s heated?”

  “What?” Beth shrugged. “Oh, I guess.”

  “It must be great for parties.”

  “You think? Well, I don’t usually have many guests here. I’m a lonely woman, Aaron.”

  “You? That’s ridiculous.”

  “Is it? All the hottest men are gay.”

  Aaron laughed. “Stop,” he said. “Do you use it?”

  “I try to swim thirty laps every morning.”

>   “Wow. That’s great.” He looked at her appraisingly. “You don’t have a swimmer’s body.”

  “Is that good or bad?”

  “Good. Women swimmers usually look so butch. Broad shouldered and thick legged. Not like you at all.”

  “I was on the swim team,” Beth said.

  “Really?”

  Beth looked into the calm waters. “In high school and in college,” she said. “You like to swim?”

  “Hate it. I mean, I never really learned how.”

  She led him to a table at the deep end and gestured for him to take a seat. She went into the house and came back with a bottle of chardonnay and two glasses. She poured the wine and Aaron said, “Gee, if my mother could see me now. Having wine with Beth Tanner by the pool.”

  “Please,” Beth said. “I’m a country girl from Arkansas.”

  “Not to my mom, you’re not. She thinks you’re the most beautiful woman on television. And not just local television.”

  “Well, I try.” Beth smiled at herself.

  “She said you were Miss Arkansas. Is that true?”

  “Guilty.”

  “And that you were second runner up in the Miss America pageant.”

  “Third. And that was a long, long time ago.”

  “You’re too modest.”

  Beth shrugged. She said, “Aaron, you seem nervous. Is something bothering you?”

  He didn’t answer her.

  And Beth said, “It’s about Johnny, isn’t it?”

  “…yes.”

  “What are you worried about?”

  “Well…Johnny was into something…bad. He did something that only I know about. And now I’m wondering if it had something to do with his being…dead.”

  “What is it?”

  Aaron looked into his wine. Then took a big swallow of it.

  Beth leaned forward and touched his knee, her kimono opening up and revealing considerable cleavage.

  “Tell me,” she said.

  “Well…you know Carter?”

  “Yes.”

  “Carter Avery.”

  “Yes, of course I know Carter Avery.”

  “I know that. Everybody knows you shared the desk. Tanner and Avery. But…well, he and Johnny, they got together. I don’t know how they met. And they started a…thing. And you know Johnny. He likes to do funny things. He likes to have fun. Well, he taped him and Avery…you know.”

  Beth Tanner stared at him.

  She said, “Taped them doing what?”

  “…you know.”

  “Having sex?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “Beth, I saw it.”

  “He showed you that?”

  Aaron looked at her, confused in that moment.

  Quickly, Beth said, “Oh my God. I’m shocked. Carter?”

  “Takes all kinds, I guess.”

  “But why would Johnny videotape it?”

  “I don’t know. Johnny’s sort of kinky. He likes to tape things. He likes…pictures.”

  “What did he do with this tape?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.”

  “When’s the last time you saw this?”

  “A few weeks ago.”

  “Did you tell anyone about it?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure, Aaron? This is very important.”

  “I didn’t tell anyone. Not even my partner.”

  “Why not?”

  “Why didn’t I tell Jeff? Oh, he’d have gone apeshit if he knew about that. Jeff did not like Johnny at all.”

  “Why did Johnny tell you?”

  “Oh…well, you know. Pillow talk.”

  In the darkness, Beth flickered a smile.

  She said, “And he showed it to you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re sure it was Carter? Not just some guy who looked like Carter.”

  “It was Carter Avery, I know.”

  “Why would Johnny show you that?”

  “I guess I thought I’d get off on it. Or maybe he wanted to make me jealous.”

  “Do you know if Johnny told anyone else about it?”

  “Well, there’s a lot of gossip in the community. Our little sewing circle. If Johnny had told anyone else, people would have talked about it.”

  “And they didn’t?”

  “Not that I ever heard. As far as I know, he and I were the only ones who knew about it.”

  “What about Carter? Did he know about this tape?”

  “I don’t know,” Aaron said. “He left town — when was it?”

  “About two months ago. To take a job in Texas.”

  “Yes, that’s right. That’s right.”

  “So what’s bothering you now, Aaron?”

  “What’s bothering me is Johnny’s dead. And this cop is coming around asking questions like he might have been murdered or something. Beth, you don’t think — I mean, Carter — I know it’s ridiculous, but do you think it’s possible that Carter Avery came back here to —”

  “To kill Johnny?”

  “Yes.”

  Beth laughed, more to herself. She shook her head.

  “I’m sorry,” Aaron said. “I guess it is stupid.”

  Beth stood up and walked over to him. She motioned him up and took him in her arms. When they embraced, she felt the bones in his back and shoulders. He was like a little chicken, trembling and now crying.

  “It’s okay,” Beth said. “Everything’s all right now.”

  Beth turned him while she held him and stepped once then took a couple more steps. And Aaron felt the ground give way as she pushed him into the pool. They both went under. Aaron panicked. They came out of the water and Beth released him but then swam around him and grabbed him from behind, slipping a strong arm around his neck and pushed his head under. She heard a scream gurgle beneath the surface and Beth wrapped her legs, scissorslike, around his thighs for leverage. His head popped out of the water but then she grabbed his hair and put her other hand on his chin. He went further beneath the surface and Beth moved her legs around his waist and squeezed. She heard a muffled scream but it dissipated. One of Aaron’s legs rose above the surface of the water then slowly settled back down. The struggling ceased. She counted to sixty four times and then once more. Then she released her grip.

  Aaron floated to the surface, his face down in the water. Beth dragged his corpse to the shallow end.

  It was easier this time.

  With Johnny, she had worried that she would not be able to do it. Johnny had called her and said he needed more money and when she asked why, he said he still had a recording of his little session with Carter. Beth had said, “What’s that do with me?” And Johnny said, “You know.”

  So she sighed and said, okay, and asked him to meet her at the lake. After getting off the phone, she had a fair idea of what she was going to do. She told herself, then, it’s just something to think about. Like a joke. You think about it, maybe even fantasize about it, but it doesn’t mean you’re actually going to do it. Like the time she was in high school and another girl turned her in for shoplifting and almost got her kicked off the cheerleading squad. Beth thought about taking the girl up to the roof of the school gym and pushing her off. It was fun to think about, but she never actually did it. She was very popular in high school and she had other ways of exacting vengeance. Beth knew what she could get away with. The Heathers had nothing on her.

  When she got Johnny to the lake, she hugged him and said she had brought the money, but the main thing she said she was concerned about was how he was doing. It was okay if he needed money, she said, but she just hoped he wasn’t in any sort of trouble. That softened him up, the fool. She told him she loved him as always and got him to take a walk down by the lake and then got him to sit down near the shore and then she picked up a rock the size of a bowling ball and hit him over the head with it and rolled him into the lake.

  After, she wondered if she had really planned it
all along or if the opportunity had presented itself and was just too good to pass up. He had asked for another five thousand dollars. And she had brought it with her. Keeping her option open, maybe. But when she got to the lake she saw how easy it would be. Like it had been with that foolish old woman in Fayetteville, who had also been asking for it. Beth got to keep her money and she no longer had to worry about Johnny or Carter Avery.

  After she got off the phone with Aaron, she drove home and prepared for his arrival. Near the table which she led him to, she had placed a hammer in the bushes. Her plan was to bash him over the head if he tried to get tough with her. But it turned out, he didn’t know as much as she feared he did. But, again, what was the point of taking chances? And when he told her he didn’t know how to swim, she took it as a sign.

  He was a slight fellow, Aaron, though he was still bigger than her. But Beth was good in the water. Sure and strong. Like an otter that can drown a dog twice its size, Beth used the water to her advantage. It had been, she supposed, more physical work to do away with Aaron, but the execution was so much smoother.

  Now Aaron lay propped up against the steps of the shallow end of the pool. Beth sat in a lawn chair nearby in a blue terrycloth bathrobe and thought it out.

  Later, she changed into dry clothes. A jogging outfit, her hair tucked under a ball cap. She hauled Aaron out to his car. It took some effort, but she managed to get him in the trunk.

  She shut the trunk and went back into the house. She checked the city bus routes and schedules on her laptop computer. She printed out a sheet of the schedules and folded it and put in her pocket.

  Then she went to her bedroom closet and took down the .38 air weight snubnose revolver her father had given her. She put that in her pocket too.

  She got two twenties and a little change, but left her purse and pocketbook on her bedroom dresser. She put on a pair of gloves and went out to Aaron’s car.