1 Twisted Perception

by Bob Avey

  The driver of the vehicle stared back at Elliot with gaping, hollow eyes.

  20

  Elliot knew something wasn’t right when he saw the motorcycles parked in front of the open bay door at Nick’s garage. He walked through the bay door and everything seemed to stop while everyone turned to look at him. Then Nick resumed his work, his power wrench screaming as before. A couple of bikers stood next to him. Elliot started toward Nick but he’d only taken a few steps when a man wearing a black T-shirt stretching across three hundred pounds of muscle stepped in front of him, blocking his path. The man leaned close, his foul breath lingering heavily. “Don’t I know you?”

  Elliot recognized the man. His name was Tom Cook. He’d played defense for Porter High.

  “Yeah,” he said. “This is the one I told you about, boys, the cold-hearted killer.”

  “I don’t want any trouble,” Elliot said.

  The man grinned. “You’re Kenny Elliot all right.”

  Elliot tried to step around Tom Cook, but a heavy hand gripped his shoulder.

  “No way, buddy. I ain’t through with you yet.”

  Elliot shook loose. “I said I didn’t want any trouble.”

  Tom Cook edged closer. “You know what amazes me is the way a sick bastard like you can just go on with his life, like nothing ever happened.”

  Elliot readied himself. There was no getting out of this. Tom was drunk, which made him dangerous, but it also left him slow and predictable. Elliot saw the right cross coming long before it got there. Stepping toward the big man, he moved left, causing his adversary to miss and leaving him off balance. Before Tom could recover, Elliot stuck a short right into his face then dug a left into his side. He quickly crumpled, catching himself on one knee, panting against the pain.

  Elliot shifted his attention to the other two bikers, their facial expressions quickly telling him they weren’t sure whether to run or make a stand. Then Nick turned around and Elliot saw his face. He had a cut above his right eye and his nose was busted. Tom and his buddies had roughed him up. They must’ve heard Elliot was in town and come looking for him. Elliot started toward the two bikers, making their minds up for them. They headed for the bay door, but he cut them off. He went to the nearest bike and shoved it off its kickstand, sending it crashing to the pavement. He waited for a challenge, but didn’t get one. “I suggest you clear out,” he said. He went back in the garage, stopping beside Tom Cook. “That means you too, fat boy.”

  When Tom stood, Elliot closed the distance between them, their faces inches apart. “Go ahead,” Elliot said. “Make your move.”

  Tom sneered but turned away. He went to his motorcycle and the other two helped him set it right again. They started their bikes, revved them loudly then peeled out of the lot.

  When they were gone, Nick walked over, wiping his nose with a paper shop towel. “Just like old times,” he said.

  Elliot nodded. “I need a favor.”

  “You got it, old buddy.”

  Charlie Johnson’s patrol car sat alongside the road that ran next to the property where Elliot told Johnson to meet him. Charlie stood outside his car as Elliot pulled Nick’s van off the road and brought it to a stop. He got out and opened the back. After positioning ramps behind it, he backed Nick’s all-terrain vehicle out of the van. Charlie gave him a disgusted look. “I hope you don’t expect me to ride that thing.”

  “It’s quite a distance from here,” Elliot said. He opened the gate and drove onto the property.

  Charlie followed, closing the gate behind him, and after a brief hesitation he climbed onto the back of the all-terrain vehicle. “I heard about your fiasco in town with Tom Cook. Seems to me you haven’t changed all that much. Trouble still follows you around.”

  Elliot didn’t answer. He just drove slowly, trying not to jostle his passenger any more than necessary. When he reached the place where he’d found the car, he stopped the vehicle. Charlie climbed off, Elliot dismounted, and together they made their way down the embankment to the creek bed. When they reached the bottom, Charlie slowly walked over to the old car that sat there. Elliot had removed the rest of the debris and searched the car before calling Charlie. The driver of the vehicle had a hole in his forehead. He’d been shot. Assassinated, Elliot thought. He showed the hole in the skull to Charlie.

  “I see it,” he said. He seemed irritated, unhappy this had been forced upon him. “It doesn’t take a forensic expert to see something like that.”

  The car was an old Cadillac, a 1989 or ’90, Elliot thought. “Why do you suppose no one ever reported it?”

  “Beats me. Most likely nobody ever saw it. And even if they did, an old burned out car sitting in a creek bed isn’t all that unusual, even in this day and age.”

  “Good point,” Elliot said, “except they usually don’t have skeletons sitting at the wheel. Any idea who it is?”

  Charlie gave him a curious look. “How the hell should I know? Looks like he’s been here awhile.”

  “There’s something you need to know,” Elliot said. “Maggie Caldwell tipped me off about this. I got the impression she thinks it has something to do with Johnnie and Marcia.”

  Charlie looked as if he wanted to melt into the ground and disappear. “I wouldn’t put much stock in what old Maggie says. She’s a few bricks shy of a load, if you know what I mean. Anyway, contrary to what you might think, I conducted a thorough investigation of those murders. If this poor sap was connected, I would’ve known about it.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. But Maggie saw somebody drive off in here. How else would she have known about it?”

  Charlie pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. “I don’t know. Did she tell you who it was she thought she saw?”

  He’s mean Maggie. I guess it’s payback that he should be the one to leave me with child. “No. Not that I could make sense of anyway. Something’s not right here, though. Nobody drives a car without license plates into a creek bed and shoots a bullet through their head. And the car’s clean; no tags, no registration, nothing. Whoever put it here went to a lot of trouble to make sure the driver wouldn’t be identified if someone did happen to stumble onto it.”

  Charlie shook his head and sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. But I can’t promise anything. Like you said, there’s not much here to go on.”

  While Charlie climbed the embankment to get out of the creek bed, Elliot tore a page from his notebook and placed it over a small metal plate on the car, rubbing over the paper with a pencil. Figures began to appear on the paper, and soon Elliot had a halfway legible vehicle identification number. After that, since it was obvious Chief Johnson wasn’t going to search the old vehicle, Elliot reached inside the car and took the slug that had done the damage to the car’s driver. He’d found it earlier, but left it for Johnson to find.

  Once he reached the top, Charlie looked back. “What in blazes were you doing down there?”

  “Nothing,” Elliot said. “Just taking one last look around.”

  21

  Elliot stood outside Carmen’s house, a neatly maintained cottage of light brown. Nick had convinced him of what he already knew; he couldn’t leave town without visiting her. He got his courage up and forced himself into action, putting one foot in front of the other to walk across the lawn until he reached the house. When he rang the bell, a young boy, around eight or nine years old, answered the door. He had Carmen’s eyes. “Is your mother home?” Elliot asked.

  He hesitated then said, “Yes, sir.”

  Elliot wondered if the boy’s father, Anthony Davenport, might be there. “Could I speak with her please?”

  The boy darted away and seconds later Carmen appeared, a look somewhere between sadness and disbelief forming on her face as she came to the door and realized who was there.

  Elliot paused for a moment, afraid his heart would jump from his chest. Carmen looked worried and she’d been crying, but she was nonetheless as stunningly beautiful as E
lliot remembered her to be. He wanted to take her in his arms and pull her close, holding her for as long as he could. Coming here was a mistake. He had known it would be.

  “Kenny?”

  Elliot smiled, and when he spoke the words sounded strange in his head. “Hello, Carmen.”

  She wiped her tears. “What on earth are you doing here?”

  Feeling awkward and not knowing what else to do, Elliot pulled his badge and showed it to her. “I’m working on a case. I think Chief Johnson might be able to help me with it. While I was in town, I thought I should stop by and say hello.”

  Carmen didn’t say anything. She just stood there, staring.

  “May I come in?”

  She opened the door and Elliot followed her into the living room where they sat on a love seat. “So, are you and Charlie working together?” she asked.

  “Not exactly, but I thought he might have some useful information.”

  She looked away, biting her lip, and again her eyes began to water.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” Elliot said, “but are you all right?”

  Carmen broke down, the way people do when they’re under stress and whoever happens to be there is who they turn to. “It’s Anthony,” she said. “He didn’t come home last night.”

  The look on her face said she immediately realized what she’d done and already regretted it. Elliot guessed the breakup wasn’t as far along as Nick thought. At least Carmen seemed to think there was hope. “I’m sure he had good reason,” Elliot said.

  Carmen wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t lay my problems on you like that.”

  The boy came into the room. Giving Elliot a suspicious look, he went to his mother and put his arm around her. “It’s okay, Mom. Dad’s probably just busy, that’s all.”

  “You’ll have to excuse my manners,” Carmen said. “This is my son, Wayne. Wayne this is Mr. Elliot, someone I used to know.”

  “Nice to meet you, Wayne.”

  The boy nodded, but said nothing.

  Wayne seemed like a nice kid. Elliot liked him. He started to speak but the phone rang. He figured it might be Carmen’s husband, so he kept silent.

  Carmen answered it, listened for a moment, then hung up and nodded, which meant that it was her husband calling. When she sat back on the couch, she buried her face in her hands, crying.

  An incredible sadness came over Elliot. He felt singularly responsible for her suffering and he wanted to say many things, but what came out was simply, “I’m sorry, Carmen.” It was all he could do to keep from crying along with her. He took her hand and squeezed it, but she recoiled, pulled away.

  Wayne walked over, staring at Elliot, his face quivering. “Why did you make my mom cry, mister? I bet you’re the reason Dad’s mad at us.”

  “ No,” Elliot said. “Please don’t think that.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it? I hate you. I hate you!”

  Suddenly Carmen went to the boy, her face still stained with tears. “No, Wayne. You don’t know what you’re saying. Please stop this. Please.”

  Elliot got up and started toward the door. “This is obviously a bad time,” he said. “I should go now.”

  Without looking at Elliot or releasing her grip on the boy, Carmen said, “Don’t leave, Kenny. I’m not through with you yet.” Using the same serious tone, she added. “Go to your room, Wayne.”

  Wayne did as he was told, throwing Elliot a pitying look that said: You’re really going to get it now.

  When Wayne was gone, Carmen turned her attention to Elliot.

  “I think I should go,” he said again.

  She shook her head. “It seems to be my lot in life, having men walk out on me. And I’ve waited too long to ask you this to let it go now. Why, Kenny? Why did you leave me like that?”

  Her question caught Elliot off guard. He sat again, and so did Carmen. “I didn’t know what else to do. Even my foster parents thought I was guilty. They left town and I was all alone. Coach Sims knew a lot of people. He arranged for me to stay with some friends of his in Stillwater, renting their garage apartment. I finished out the school year there. After that, I started classes at Oklahoma State.”

  “But why did you leave like that, without saying anything? You hurt me, Kenny. I thought I had done something to upset you.”

  Elliot took a deep breath, mustering all the willpower he could to keep from breaking down. “Charlie Johnson and Coach Sims convinced me it was the right thing to do. They said it would be bad for you and your family, and that I should go away where I could get my life together and prove I could make something of myself, then come back and make things right. It made sense at the time. Everybody was down on me and going away until things blew over seemed like a good idea.”

  “And you’re just now coming back? I guess things have really blown over by now.”

  Elliot thought about his fight with Tom Cook. If things had blown over, it certainly didn’t seem like it. “I thought I was making the right decision, ridding you of a burden.”

  “How can you say that? I loved you, Kenny. I would’ve shared any burden with you.”

  Elliot closed his eyes. Hearing Carmen say those words should’ve been nice. Instead, it hurt like hell.

  “Why didn’t you at least call?” she asked.

  “I did. That night. No one answered. I called again the next day but your number had been changed. They wouldn’t give me the new one, said it was unlisted. I even tried later, saying it was an emergency but it didn’t work. I guess they could tell I was just a kid.”

  “You could have written.”

  “Every night for two months. I never heard back.”

  “I never got your letters,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

  “There’s more,” Elliot said. “When I couldn’t reach you I called Nick. He told me you didn’t want to talk to me, didn’t want anything more to do with me, said you told him to tell me that.”

  “Nicholas said that?”

  “Yeah.” Finally allowing himself to look into Carmen’s eyes, Elliot saw that they both understood what had happened. Her parents had not only changed the phone number, they had intercepted the letters as well. And Nick. Who knew what was going on with Nick?

  Carmen’s lips quivered into a smile.

  Elliot started to tell her that he’d thought she’d simply come to her senses and really didn’t want anything more to do with him, and that if he’d known there was even an ounce of hope he’d have been there in a heartbeat. But then he saw the wedding ring on her finger. “I guess fate had other plans for us,” he said.

  Carmen shook her head. “This cannot be happening,” she whispered.

  Elliot wasn’t sure what she meant by that, so he remained silent.

  After a moment Carmen said, “I talked with Sally Ellis a few days ago. She got a letter from your foster parents. They’re living in Iowa now. Did you ever hear from them again?”

  “No.”

  “They’re still acting as a foster family. It doesn’t seem right after what they did to you, leaving you at such a time.”

  “Who could blame them? I was quite a problem.”

  “I saw the news about those women in Tulsa,” she said. “The one that was killed in her car, and the other one. Is that what brought you here?”

  “That’s part of it.”

  Her face grew solemn. “It has something to do with Johnnie and Marcia, doesn’t it?”

  Yes, Elliot thought, it has everything to do with it, but what he said was, “I’m not sure. It might.”

  “It does,” she said. “I feel it. Will we be haunted by this thing forever?”

  “Not if I can help it,” Elliot said. “I’ll do everything in my power to bring it to a close. One way or another it will be over.” He stood. “It’s been wonderful seeing you again, Carmen, but I’d better be going.” He looked around the room, and said the only thing that seemed safe. “This is a nice place you have here.”

&nb
sp; “Thanks. It belongs to Charlie Johnson. I think his sister used to live here.”

  “I didn’t know Charlie had any family. He never spoke of them.”

  She smiled. “I think she left before we were old enough to notice.”

  Elliot nodded, then turned and walked out of the house. As he neared his car, Carmen called to him. “Kenny?”

  He turned, his heart aching as he saw her leaning out the door. “Yes?”

  “I promised Wayne I’d take him to the baseball field. Would you like to meet us there?”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  They stared at each other for a moment, then she said, “We need to talk some more.” After that, she closed the door.

  Elliot drove around for awhile trying to make sense of the last few minutes. Finally, he headed for Nick’s place. When he got there he found the garage closed. There was no sign saying so, but the doors were locked and Nick’s old blue van was nowhere in sight. When he went around back to check Nick’s house, he looked up the street and saw Carmen going into the municipal building.

  Nick wasn’t home, so Elliot left his car at the garage and started off on foot toward Linzy Field, where Carmen said she would be, taking the familiar route that Nick and he had taken on their way to school. As he walked he thought about Nick, and as he rounded the corner and stood on the grounds of the Dairy Mart, an old drive-in restaurant where the kids used to hang out, one incident in particular bobbed to the surface. Nick had seen some sort of video game machine on television and he wanted it badly. He and his father had argued about it. Nick’s dad insisted the family couldn’t afford it. Elliot couldn’t recall money ever bothering Nick until then.