Fallout (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 2)

by Lila Beckham

  “I’m glad we did too, Uncle Joe.” Hook said. “I need to do this more often-we need to do this more often, don’t we, Joshua.”

  “Yes, we do.” Joshua replied. “I have enjoyed it, but we need to be going. I have a lot of Sheriffing to do before me and Hook can plan our fishing trip.”

  “Fishing trip, huh,” Joe said it as if he was mulling it over. “I ain’t been a fishing since the last time you and me went, Sheriff, and that was a long time ago; too long.”

  “Yeah, it has been awhile. That was probably the last time I went fishing too.”

  “Well, damn then, it sounds like we all need to go fishing,” James said with a grin.

  Feeling obligated, Joshua said, “We’ll make a plan and go before long.” Just as he said it, the beginning of the ‘Time in a Bottle’ song began playing, and it gave him pause to think about how fast time was flying by. He had so much he wanted and needed to do. He felt that time was passing him by and he would never finish what he’d set out to do.

  “Don’t worry, Sheriff,” Joe said as if reading his thoughts. “You’ve got plenty of time. You’re a youngster still. Quit worrying on it; buckle down and get ‘er done!”

  James and Joshua finished eating and then loaded up and headed toward the river. Joshua breathed a sigh of relief when they turned into his driveway. He saw three or four squirrels running and playing in the yard and when they became aware of them, they swung off the moss and wisteria vines they were climbing and ran away. He felt comforted when they drove up to the front of his cabin; he was glad to be home. Joshua realized at that moment that his cabin, his home, was as much a part of him as his right arm. He would rather live nowhere else in the world than where he lived.

  31

  Liars and Thieves

  It had been Joshua’s experience that if a person was accused of something they were guilty of, he or she would first play the victim. They would play it to the point of resorting to tears and if that didn’t work, they became defensive and then angry. The more pressure you put on them, the angrier they became. At first, they would act nonchalant as if, ‘you’ve lost your fricking mind - I wouldn’t do anything like that’ before all the other rigmarole started. The blond haired, blue-eyed boy setting in front of him was not any different from any other liar or thief that he’d had to deal with.

  After an uneventful night sitting on his back porch smoking and drinking with his feet propped on the railing, Joshua still could not go to sleep. The thirty hours sleep he’d had while in the hospital had undoubtedly caught him up on his rest. The early morning call informing him that Jody Miles had been found dead in his home by his neighbor had led them to bring Jody’s grandson in for questioning. The neighbor had told them that the grandson was the only person he had seen at Jody’s house in the last several weeks.

  When the team arrived to process the scene and remove the body, they discovered that much of Jody’s personal possessions were missing and that someone had attempted to set fire to the home by dousing the area around the bed with kerosene. Why it did not burn the entire place down was one of those mysteries that go unexplained. Joshua usually chalked those up to Karma. Karma has a way of biting people in the ass when they least expected it. If the house had burnt down, Jody’s murder probably would have gone down as an accidental death and his murderer would have gotten away with it.

  The boy had done gone through the ‘you’ve lost your fricking mind’ stage and now played the victim. His blue eyes were filled with tears that threatened to spill over. Joshua could tell the tears were not for his grandfather - the tears were because he had been caught and now faced going to jail for the rest of his life. The boy’s tears did nothing but piss Joshua off. He suspected that the boy had probably been toting his grandfather’s possessions out one at a time and pawning them or selling them to support his drug habit.

  He wasn’t exactly sure what had gone down, but if he had to guess, the grandfather had probably threatened to call the law if he kept on taking stuff and when he caught him stealing again and tried to call them, they struggled over the phone and things turned ugly. The boy probably killed him in anger, and after he realized what he had done, he tried to start the fire to make it look like the old man died in the fire. However, twenty-one stab wounds constituted a crime of passion, not an accident!

  The psychologist for the state had already interviewed the boy and assessed him as having narcissistic tendencies. However, that did not mean that boy could not control his actions. Joshua did not like interrogations; he tended to get too angry. That was why he elected to observe and not participate. He wanted to jerk the boy up by the neck and make him own up to what he had done, but they had to follow procedure. That was why he had not objected to two of the lead detectives in the sheriff’s office doing the investigation. He, several of his deputies, and Metcalf were observing from behind the two-way mirror.

  “He’ll break soon,” Paul Calvert mumbled.

  “I hope so,” said Deputy Cook.

  “Well, y’all let me know when he does,” Joshua said as he turned and headed toward the door. He had other things he needed to be concentrating on instead of hanging out there watching a punk ass kid tell boldfaced lies.

  “Will do,” he heard Calvert say as the door closed behind him.

  He walked across the courtyard to his office. It was unlit and cool beneath the shade of the large oak tree near the window. As he looked around, he decided his office lacked personality. There was nothing on his desk, which disappointed him slightly. He figured Sandy would have brought over the photos he’d asked her to print out and leave them on his desk. He reckoned he would have to go to her to get them.

  Joshua walked back across the courtyard to the records room. Sandy greeted him with a huge smile and a ‘Hey sweetie, what can I get for you today.’ Had she forgotten that soon, Joshua wondered? He asked her if she had time to make copies of the photos he had asked for. She grinned at him and said that sure, she had and she would get them for him. She disappeared for a moment and then returned with a folder that contained the photographs he had requested.

  “I was going to leave them on your desk, Sheriff, but when I heard you were in the hospital, I decided to hang onto them for safekeeping. I knew you said that you did not want anything to happen to the originals. I intended to sleep with them if I had to,” Sandy winked and smiled. “You look good. I’m glad it was nothing serious.”

  “I just needed a good rest, I reckon” Joshua said as he opened the folder and looked at the photos. The only way to tell the new photos from the originals was that the backs of the newest photos were white. “Thanks, Sandy. You’re a real jewel,” he said as he closed the folder and readied to leave.

  “I do what I can, Sheriff. Are you having any luck with the unsolved files you took home with you?”

  “I think they’ve led to more questions than answers,” he replied honestly.

  “It would be great if Granddaddy could fill you in on all of those. He is senile now, and hardly knows anyone anymore…”

  “Are you talking about Detective Jernigan?”

  “Yes, he is my great-grandfather, but as I said, he wouldn’t be any help. He organized all of those files himself. I think that is one reason he lived so long but also the reason his mind went - it was just too much information to keep up with. His old brain got so full it exploded and turned to mush,” Sandy chuckled. “I didn’t mean that in an unkind way, Sheriff. I love my granddaddy very much and I am glad I was old enough to remember him before his mind went.”

  “I hate to hear that,” Joshua replied. “I sure would have loved to talk to him.”

  “He has his bad days and worse days, if you know what I mean. Sometimes, he thinks he is back on the force and doing detective work. He walked away from home several times… that is why he is in the rest home. My granddad tried to keep him, but he couldn’t watch him twenty-four seven and both of my parents work. Mom’s a nurse, and dad runs the hardware store. I am t
oo young to take on that kind of responsibility, but I visit him every month, sometimes more. Most of the time, he doesn’t know who I am. That is always disappointing, but I keep going…”

  “Cherish them while you have them,” Joshua said solemnly. “They won’t be here forever. I know I miss mine,” he said, realizing how much he truly missed his folks, even his father, although he had never really been close to him.

  Sandy gave him a sympathetic look.

  He smiled. “I’m getting old Sandy. It slips up on you before you know it.”

  “You’re not old, sugar. You just need to take a deep breath and reorganize your thoughts, get ‘em in order, that’s all. Go somewhere with a fifth of good whiskey, get comfortable, and then drink until you’re mind is numb” she said, her face showing wisdom beyond her years. “If I wasn’t working, I’d go with you and show you how,” Sandy grinned.

  Joshua chuckled, “We might just have to try that if I can’t do it on my own,” he said, slapping the file on the edge of the counter and turning to leave.

  “See ya, later gator,” Sandy said to his back.

  What is it with these younger women, all of a sudden wanting to bed me he wondered as he walked to his patrol car? He laid the file on the seat and then walked to the jail to see how the interrogation was going.

  Just as he walked into the viewing-listening room, he saw one of the detectives escorting the blond haired boy out of the room. Cook and Calvert appeared happy.

  “What’s up?” Joshua asked.

  “He confessed!” Cook chirped, grinning from ear to ear. “He tried lying, begging, and then crying. He finally owned up to what he done when they began laying photographs of his dead granddaddy on the table in front of him.”

  “Good,” Joshua replied. “It’s one less lying, thieving, murderer off the street.”

  “They’re sending him to Searcy Mental Hospital first so he can be evaluated before trial. He’s liable to get off on the condition of being crazy,” Calvert said solemnly, “If so, he will kill again.”

  “Well, let’s hope they find him fit to stand trial,” Joshua stated. “That boy ain’t crazy; you can tell that by looking in his eyes,” Joshua said and then told them he was headed out, “If you need me, call me on the radio.” Joshua decided it was time to return the photos he borrowed from Vivian.

  32

  Wind of Change

  A warm, southern wind blew into Joshua’s face as he got out of his patrol car in front of Vivian’s Victorian Village home. He had decided to take her photo album back to her before something happened that put him in a predicament where he could not return it. He had placed the photos he had copied back into her album before he left the courthouse. If he had died when the lightning struck him, she probably would not have gotten them returned to her. He knew she would be devastated if something happened to them.

  When Vivian opened the door, she seemed surprised to see him standing there, but did not drop anything this time.

  “Joshua, what a pleasant surprise,” she said. “Won’t you come in?”

  “I can’t stay,” he replied. “I need to get back to the courthouse,” he said as he handed her the photo album. “I appreciate you letting me borrow it.”

  “What a shame,” Vivian replied. “I wanted to talk to you about your mother and see if you had found out any more on her disappearance.”

  “Not much at all,” Joshua replied. “Just a few things I didn’t already know,” he said. He was not lying but he was not exactly truthful either. He felt he needed some space, some time to himself. He did not want to be tied up visiting. He wanted to wait until his mind was not so boggled with information to visit with her. “I will call again, real soon, I promise. Then we can sit and talk a while.”

  “Well, I reckon that will have to suffice until another time,” Vivian said graciously. Joshua said his goodbyes, turned and walked to his parked car. Vivian stood watching as he drove off. He also saw the curtain pulled slightly back in another room along the front of the house. He wondered if it was Georgia or someone else that was watching. He did not know and had no way of knowing for sure. He drove out of the village, through the tunnel, and emerged on the Causeway. About halfway across, the aroma of cooking seafood bombarded his senses causing his stomach to rumble. He pulled into the parking lot of the Blue Gill Seafood Restaurant, parked, got out, and walked in.

  The dimly lit restaurant was about half-full, it was not yet noon. He asked the hostess for a corner booth near the jukebox. She led him to a booth in the corner, handed him a menu, and asked what he wanted to drink. He placed his drink order and sat with his back in the corner, his legs laid out along the bench-seat listening to the music playing softly from the jukebox. His legs protruded past the end of the seat, but he did not care if they were in someone’s way or not, he was comfortable. He had just lit a cigarette when a different waitress brought his drink to the table.

  “Hi, my name is Debbie, I will be your server today,” she said stiffly. She blushed and said, “As you can probably tell, I’m new at this, so please bear with me.”

  Joshua smiled and said that everyone has to start somewhere. She smiled her appreciation as she took a pad and pen from her pocket. He ordered the lunch platter that was half a dozen fried oysters, half a dozen butterfly shrimp, and one flounder filet. He ordered an appetizer of sautéed crawfish tails. When the music stopped and no one went to the jukebox to play more songs, he got up, dropped a few quarters in, picked a few songs, then sat back and stretched his legs out again.

  A few minutes later, Debbie brought the sautéed crawfish tails he ordered, but he did not notice. The ‘Time in a Bottle’ song was playing and he was staring across the bay at a sailboat that at first appeared small. As it got nearer, it grew in size.

  It had been years since Joshua had gone out into the bay. As he sat there, he wondered why it had been so long. He loved the feel of an ocean breeze as it caressed his body and tickled the hair on his arms and legs. He loved the smell of salt in the air.

  “It would be nice to be out there, wouldn’t it,” he heard a voice say.

  “Yes, it would. It’s been years…”

  “My husband used to take me sailing in the bay. We would sail out past the forts to the barrier islands, which were way out there, and then we would turn and come back. We always said that one day we would just keep going and see where we wound up.”

  Joshua turned to see an older woman, somewhere between his and Vivian’s age, in the booth next to his. She had spoken with a refined southern accent. Her olive complexion, thick, dark, slightly graying hair and other features suggested Spanish or Indian descent. He thought the hostess must have seated her while he was choosing songs on the jukebox. He knew she was not there when he got up to go to the jukebox. He just did not know why he had not seen her when he sat back down.

  “I like the song that just played on the Victrola,” said the woman. “It is so philosophical… the singer draws you into his world as he sings.”

  “Yes, Ma’am, he does. I like it too; very much so,” Joshua replied.

  “I don’t mean to be so bold, but do you mind if I join you? I hate to eat alone, and I do that so often these days.” Joshua was surprised, but not offended. And for some reason he did not understand, he actually wanted her to join him.

  When Debbie came to see if the appetizer was to his liking, he asked her to hold his lunch order until they filled the woman’s order. The waitress agreed, took her order and then left the table.

  “I’m sorry,” Joshua apologized “but I don’t know your name.”

  “Nor do I know yours,” she smiled.

  “My name is Joshua Stokes.”

  “Nice to meet you, Joshua Stokes,” she said, reaching a delicate hand cross the table. “My name is Carolyn de Iberville.” She smiled, showing a glimpse of youth. A dimple in her right cheek and sparkling brown eyes alluded to a life of happiness.

  “If I may ask, you said that your husband use to
take you sailing; has he passed?”

  “No, honey. He left me twenty years ago for a woman half my age,” Carolyn said with a small chuckle. “I tried to hate him, but failed miserably. To every thing, there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heavens… I will always care for him, Mr. Stokes. He afforded me a life that otherwise I would not have known. C’est la vie, c’est la vie. Et par de jure, j’ai reçu la moitié de sa fortune.”

  The only word Joshua understood in her last sentence was fortune. If he had to guess, it sounded French. He smiled.

  “That’s life, Joshua Stokes. By law, because I was married to him for thirty years, I received half his fortune in the divorce settlement. I do miss some of the things about my life with him, like the sailing. That was before he hit his middle-aged crazies. After that, I was not a very happy person, and I deserve to be happy. Everyone deserves to be happy, even Biella de Iberville.”

  The song, ‘Simple Man’ by the group Lynyrd Skynyrd began playing. Carolyn became quiet as she listened - she smiled sadly. “This is another one of those profoundly deep songs. It requires thoughtful study and experience in the quintessential meaning of life to produce lyrics such as these that result in true meaning. These singers and songwriters must have an essential wisdom that exceeds their years… Judging from the lyrics of many of these songs, the songwriters have experienced the core of life in its purest form. They could write one heck of a novel if they set their mind to it. Don’t you think so, Joshua,” she asked seriously.

  “I really haven’t ever given it much thought, Carolyn,” Joshua replied thoughtfully. “I do know that some songs will touch a special place inside you that gives pause to think, to feel, to wonder how they knew what you were feeling when they wrote the song. Sometimes, I will hear a song that feels as if it was written just for me.”

  “Maybe it was.” Carolyn’s tone was sincere. “Several years ago a couple of biologists discovered that we are all connected by a thin thread of material present in a specific molecules in our bodies called ‘deoxy’ something or other, DNA for short — so far, everyone tested is different. It shows that to some degree everyone is related-but different. This molecular structure is different even in identical twins. We inherit it from our parents who inherited it from their parents and so on all the way back to Adam and Eve who were the mother and father of us human creations. I have read that if it were broken down to its most miniscule component, the scientist would discover that we are all related through ancestral blood - white, black, yellow, brown, and red - to Adam and Eve.