Charles Ray coughed again. He looked back to Ben after the coughing finally subsided.
“I’ll go see her right now. I don’t know what I’m gonna say.”
“I’m truly sorry,” Ben said.
Charles Ray nodded, and Ben turned to Emma.
“Let’s go.”
Ben and Emma left the trailer and walked outside. Emma took deep breaths of the cold, wet air. The atmosphere inside the trailer had seemed stale and tainted.
She walked to Ben’s car without once looking back. She climbed into the car and turned to Ben as he started the engine.
“Has he always lived like that?”
“I’ve only been out here once before, but I didn’t go inside.”
“At least we know he wasn’t lying about being sick.”
Ben didn’t reply. He just put the car in reverse and turned hard as he backed up. He did a three point turn and proceeded back down the dirt driveway.
“Was it just me, or did he not seem all that choked up about his father’s death?” Emma asked.
“Some people are just like that. They’re hard. They aren’t gonna show emotion to some stranger.”
Emma wasn’t sure if Ben was referring to them both or just herself. Despite working at the sheriff’s department for several years, she still felt like a stranger in Gloucester County, even to her own partner. You were either born here, or you were an outsider. There was no in-between.
“Seems pretty clear what happened,” she said.
“Yeah. Bobby and his father got into it again about his marriage, only Charles Ray wasn’t around to break it up.”
Ben pressed down on the brakes as he approached the end of the dirt driveway. Emma took another look at the mailbox. She saw faded and chipped black letters spell out the name “Tatum” on the wooden post.
“Maybe Bobby already had the hammer in his hand. Maybe he just couldn’t control himself,” Emma suggested.
“And you heard what Charles Ray said about not being able to hire anyone to take his place. These waters just don’t produce anymore. Everyone’s strapped for money. Then Bobby’s wife kicks him out. It was all too much to take.”
“You know she’s asking for spousal support. He probably can’t pay it, and he’s got nowhere to go.”
“Not to mention the humiliation of Carrie being with some other guy. I’m surprised I haven’t heard about it before now.”
“Why? You said the Guinea are secretive.”
“Yeah, but stuff like that has a way of getting out. A lot of folks don’t like the Tatums. They’d be more than glad to talk about Bobby’s wife stepping out with another man.”
“Charles Ray said it was some coworker. Do you know where she works?” Emma asked.
“She used to be a teller at one of the banks. Not sure if she’s still there, but it won’t be hard to find out.”
“What’s your guess? Will Bobby admit he did it?”
“No chance. You remember me mentioning that Bobby got picked up for a mugging?”
“Yeah.”
“I had two eye witnesses that saw him do it, and I found the lady’s stolen purse in the back of his father’s car. He still didn’t admit to doing it. It doesn’t matter, though. He’ll go down for this. There was no one else on that boat.”
Emma thought back to something Ben had said that morning while they stood on the dock. He’d said the boat was named Sally after Bill’s wife. It was supposed to have brought them luck. Now it was covered with Bill’s blood, and the oldest son was about to go down for murder. Their luck had failed them. The water used to give so much life. Now all it did was take.
Chapter 5
Bobby Tatum
Ben and Emma made the drive back to the sheriff’s department. Emma kept thinking about the anniversary of Ben’s wife’s death. He’d probably thought he’d spend the day in quiet reflection. Instead, Ben had been saddled with that grisly murder scene at the marina. It was too soon to get the fingerprint results back from forensics, but that didn’t really matter. Emma had little doubt whose prints would be on the handle of that hammer. The man’s face had been mutilated by his own son. How could someone do that to their father, or any person for that matter? What could Bill have possibly said that would have made Bobby Tatum go for that hammer? It was beyond comprehension.
They parked and made their way into the department headquarters. Ben said he needed to make a quick run to the restroom, while Emma headed straight for the interrogation room. She’d called one of the deputies who’d been out at the marina and asked her to take Bobby into one of the interview rooms.
Emma was approached by three different deputies as she made her way to the back. Each wanted details of the crime scene. It was more out of morbid curiosity than anything else. She had no doubt the media would be calling soon, too. The word of Bill Tatum’s murder had quickly spread throughout their small department, and it was only a matter of time before one of the deputies leaked it to the press. Gloucester was a large area, at least in terms of geographical space, but it was still a small town in all the other ways that mattered. Gossip of this type was impossible to slow down.
Emma found Ann Baker, who was the deputy she’d called on the way over, standing outside the interrogation room.
“Did he say anything on the way back here? Did he ask for a lawyer?”
“Not a word. The guy hasn’t opened his mouth once, not even when we pulled him off that boat. It’s like he’s some sort of zombie.”
“Had you met him before?”
“No, but I’ve heard his name before,” Baker said.
Emma looked through the glass window on the door and saw Bobby seated at the small metal table in the center of the room. She turned and looked back down the hallway. Ben wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She thought about waiting outside, but then decided to go in and get a better feel for Bobby Tatum.
Emma entered the interrogation room. Bobby didn’t look up at her as she walked over to the table. She saw that his jacket was covered with his father’s blood, and his long hair was still damp from the fog and light rain of the morning’s miserable weather.
Emma pulled out the chair that was opposite Bobby’s. The legs squealed against the floor. She sat down and studied him. He made no move to look up or even move his body. He was completely motionless like he was in some kind of frozen trance. The man looked like a mannequin of sorts.
Ben entered a moment later and walked over to Emma. Bobby didn’t take notice of him, either. He continued to be a statue. Ben stood beside Emma and motioned for her to take the lead.
“Mr. Tatum, I’m Emma Ross. I’m a detective with the Gloucester sheriff’s department.”
Emma waited for Bobby to respond, but he didn’t. He continued to stare at the surface of the table. His long hair hung across his face, so she couldn’t see if he even had a reaction to her words.
“What happened out there, Mr. Tatum?” Emma asked.
Bobby still said nothing.
“Mr. Tatum,” she continued.
“Is this how you want to play it, Bobby? Your father’s been murdered,” Ben said.
Bobby finally looked up.
“Don’t you think I know that?”
“What happened then? Talk us through it,” Emma said.
“He was there. I don’t know how, but he was there.”
“Who was there?” Emma asked.
“He must have been hiding in the compartment below. I didn’t even think to look. We never thought to look. Everyone knew that boat was ours. No one was going to mess with it.”
“Who was hiding on your boat?” Emma asked again.
“It was hard to see cause of all that fog. I was pulling one of the cages up when I heard my father scream. I turned around and saw him get hit with that hammer.”
“Who hit him?” she asked.
“My brother! My brother did this!” Bobby yelled and slammed his hand flat against the table.
“Calm down, Bobby. Don’
t make us handcuff you to that table,” Ben said.
“We spoke with Charles Ray this morning. He said he was home sick,” Emma said.
“Not Charles Ray. It was Jimmy. Jimmy done this.”
Ben leaned closer to Bobby.
“You’re telling us that Jimmy killed your father?” he asked.
“He kept hitting him over and over again. I dropped the rope and ran over to stop him. We fought for the hammer. Then Jimmy dropped it and jumped overboard.”
“Did you see where he went? Did he make it to the shore?” Emma asked.
“That’s a load of crap, Bobby, and you know it,” Ben cut in.
Emma took a quick look at Ben. She could see the anger in his eyes, but she didn’t know why he’d been so quick to dismiss Bobby’s story.
“He was there. I saw that face. I could never forget that face,” Bobby said.
“What did it look like?” Ben asked.
“You know god damned well what it looked like.”
Ben pulled back the chair beside Emma’s and sat down.
“You really expect me to believe Jimmy was there?” he asked.
“I saw him. He was the same, only older. He had that hammer in his hand, and he kept swinging it.”
“You’re really going to tell us this story?” Ben asked.
Bobby looked away from them both.
“Why did you kill him? Tell us the truth,” Ben said.
“I didn’t do it. I just got done telling you that. Go back out to that marina. You’ll find Jimmy’s body floating around somewhere. There’s no way he could have made it back to shore. That water’s too damn cold.”
“We went to see Charles Ray after we left you at the marina. Would you like to know what he said?” Ben asked.
“He’s sick. He wasn’t there.”
“We know that, but that’s not what I found so interesting. He said Carrie left you. Is that what this is really all about?”
“It has nothing to do with it.”
“It must have been humiliating hearing about Carrie going all over town with her new man. That must have really gotten under your skin.”
“She can do whatever the hell she wants. I don’t want her no more.”
“That doesn’t mean you weren’t still upset at how she made you look. Charles Ray said you and your father have been fighting. He said your father got on you about not holding on to your wife. Is that what happened? You got into an argument this morning, and it just went too far?” Ben asked.
“Fuck you if you don’t believe me. You’re wasting your time in here when you should be out looking for Jimmy.”
“You can play this however you want, but it won’t change what happened,” Ben said.
Bobby went back to being silent.
“Is that all you’ve got to say? You’re gonna stick with Jimmy being responsible?” Ben asked.
“You’ll find him. His body will be out there. You’ll see.”
Ben stood.
“All right. I didn’t think you’d be man enough to take responsibility, but I didn’t see that bullshit story coming, either. I’ll give you that.”
Bobby looked up at him. Emma could see the fury in his eyes, and she expected Bobby to attack Ben. He stayed seated, though, and went back to remaining silent.
Ben headed for the door. Emma watched as he yanked it open and left the room. She turned back to Bobby. He was looking at the table once again. She looked at him for a few moments, but he never reestablished eye contact. Emma stood and walked to the door. She left the room without looking back and found Ben leaning against the hallway wall several feet from the interrogation room.
“What the hell was that?” Emma asked.
“He thinks this is some kind of damn joke. The guy bashes his father’s brains in, and he thinks it’s funny.”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t live here back then, so there’s no way you could have known.”
“Known what?”
“There’s no chance his brother Jimmy could have done that.”
“Why not?” Emma asked.
“Because Jimmy’s dead. He’s been in the ground for more than twenty years.”
Ben could see the look of confusion in Emma’s eyes.
“Yeah, that’s right. Bobby just blamed his dead brother for killing their father.”
“He must have been a child when he died.”
“He was. He might have been only ten years old.”
“How did the brother die?”
“He fell out of a climbing tree in their backyard. He broke his neck.”
“Why did Bobby say you’d remember what he looked like? Was something wrong with him?”
“He had this medical condition. I don’t remember what it’s called. It caused the flesh of his face to sink. The right side of his face was basically gone. It looked like someone had smashed it in with a vise or something. It was horrible.”
“Why do you think Bobby blamed him? He must have known you would remember his brother was dead?”
“Of course, he knows. I was the one who went out there when they called the sheriff’s department. Bobby and his brother, Wilton, were in the tree with Jimmy when he fell. I think Buddy was there, too. Their mother said they’d climbed that tree almost every day. I remember her saying they were like little monkeys.”
“Monkeys that fall off a limb?”
“It was probably a blessing in disguise. What kind of life could that kid have had looking like that?” Ben asked.
“You said the other brother’s name was Wilton. Where is he now?”
“He went to California after high school. I think he wanted to make it in the music business. Something like that. He died a few years later in a car crash.”
“So that leaves just Bobby and Charles Ray. Were there any other siblings?” Emma asked.
“No, and now the father’s gone, too, and his son is about to go away for the rest of his life.”
“When are you going to officially charge Bobby?”
“Let him stew in there for a while. Once we get the fingerprint results back, we’ll go in there and see if his story’s changed.”
“He hasn’t lawyered up yet. Does that surprise you?”
“Everything about that boy surprises me, but he’s never been right. He’s just a damn fool who leaps before he thinks. There’s just no other way to explain it.”
Ben walked away, while Emma stood in the center of the hallway. She turned and looked back toward the interrogation room. Why had Bobby tried to blame the murder on his dead brother? Even a fool, as Ben had described him, wouldn’t be crazy enough to make that mistake. It just didn’t make any sense.
Chapter 6
The Hammer
The rest of the day went exactly as Ben Hall had expected it to go. The fingerprint analysis showed that the hammer had three sets of prints, and all belonged to the Tatums: Bill’s, Bobby’s, and Charles Ray’s. Of course, that wasn’t definitive proof that Bobby was the killer, nor did it eliminate a potential fourth person who might have been wearing gloves. Still, it was more than likely that Bobby had committed the crime, and he was officially charged with the murder of Bill Tatum that afternoon. Ben still couldn’t believe Bobby had tried to convince him that his dead brother had come back from the grave to kill their father. He’d expected some kind of lame excuse, but he never could have predicted that one, not in a million years.
Ben thought of Bill Tatum’s wife as he drove to the cemetery. She’d just lost a husband, someone he assumed had been the closest person to her. He knew the pain she was feeling now. His wife’s death had been a violent one, too.
The cancer was a murderer, not that much different from a human wielding a deadly weapon. Ben knew he had to go by Sally’s house and give her an update on the investigation. He didn’t have the energy, though, not after the emotional roller coaster of the day. He made the decision to postpone the trip to her house to the following morning.
; He drove back to the cemetery on his way home. His morning visit to his wife’s gravesite had been interrupted by the phone call about the murder at the marina. He entered the cemetery and drove to the back where his wife’s gravesite was located. He’d picked the spot because it was located close to an oak tree that shaded her gravestone. The tree was similar to one they had in their backyard. It reminded him of how he and his wife had spent many a lazy afternoon at their home. He’d built a small wooden bench years ago and placed it under that tree. His wife would make a tall pitcher of tea. They’d spend an hour or two sitting and talking about a variety of subjects and watching the birds flutter around the nearby birdbath.
Ben had been tempted to tear apart the bench after her death. That had been where they were sitting when she told him about her cancer. She’d been to the doctor a week before that, but she hadn’t been honest with him when she told him the results of the test were inconclusive. She’d told him she’d wanted to spend her remaining months without him being under the heavy burden of knowing that she was dying. She’d quickly realized, though, that there would be no way for her to hide her growing illness.
Ben parked his car at the cemetery and turned off the ignition. He climbed out and walked to the back of the car. Ben opened the trunk and removed a small tripod camping chair. He walked up the small incline that led to her gravestone. It was a large marker, and her name was on the right side of it. They’d left space on the opposite side for his name. Ben pulled open the chair’s legs and placed it just a foot from the gravestone. He sat down and looked at the grass above his wife’s grave. He still had a hard time accepting the fact that her body was several feet below the surface. It was rotting in a box in the ground. It wasn’t her anymore, so why did he feel compelled to come here?
He thought back to that sentence that came out of her mouth that day on the wooden bench: I have cancer. Three words, and their meaning couldn’t be any clearer. Still, it had taken him several minutes to process the truth of her statement. She would be gone soon, and he’d have no way of preparing for it. He didn’t know why, but he’d always assumed he would be the one to die first. Maybe it was the job, and he’d thought there was the chance he’d be killed on duty. Perhaps it was just the fact that men usually didn’t live as long as women. His father had reached the age of ninety-two before he’d passed. That meant it was likely Ben had more than three decades to exist without his wife at his side. He didn’t think he could make it. The truth was he didn’t want to make it.
Dead Rise: An Alex Penfield Novel Page 3