The Killing King of Gratis (17 page)

Cozette brought Meg a pair of cargo pants and a t-shirt with “Keep on Truckin’” emblazoned across the front. Meg was amazed that Cozette would pick those pants, but the shirt was retro and went nicely with her jean shorts. Neither of them wore shoes, as was usual in the summer.

Peck spoke dreamily. “Sister girl, do you think we’re ever going home? I miss Mommy.”

“Of course we’re going home and soon, Peck.” Meg reassured her brother with words she didn’t know whether to believe herself. She looked over at Terrence, who was playing with the dogs a bit closer to the house, and was overcome with sadness. She may not have known when she was going home, but she did know that Terrence would never go home again. He had to know that, too, and it made her sadness all the greater.

“I wonder where he’s gonna live.” Peck saw her looking at Terrence.

Meg didn’t answer. She just looked at the Neck, squinting when the sun light flashed off the dark water.

Meg was sad but wasn’t one to be defeated. She knew her uncle left them at Cozette’s to keep them safe. Between the dogs and the huge football player he picked a pretty good spot to do that. She imagined that he would keep them holed up until he felt they were okay. The problem with Uncle Delroy was that nothing was ever okay, even before they found the ear. He was a hoverer, and no thirteen year old girl needed that in her life.

Peck looked at his sister.

“Meggy, I have a secret.” He smiled.

She looked at him and he just kept smiling. “Peck, won’t you just tell me Baby Brother?” When she used his pet name his smile got wider.

“Guess. I’ll give you three guesses.”

Peck loved the guessing game. When he was a toddler he always made Momma or Meg guess, “ge wha, ge wha.”

Meg furrowed her brow. “Let’s see, is it that you are the world champion farter of all time?”

Peck laughed. “No! You have two guesses left!”

“Hmmmm. Okay, I know. It must be that Peck’s farts taste like a dog’s butt.” She laughed at her own foulness.

Peck was laughing so hard that he needed a moment to answer her.

“Nooooooo! You have only one more guess!” Peck rolled over the boards of the old dock, risking a splinter with every move.

Meg was pretty good at the guessing game, as she was Peck’s most frequent opponent. She knew that Peck’s fatal flaw with the game was that he wanted you to guess his secret. He only played it if he had something he wanted you to know.

“Well, I wonder if it has to do with your farts.” Meg thought out loud, watching as Peck shook his head.

“No, that can’t be it, and it can’t be about your boogers or smelly feet.” Peck kept shaking his head and giggling.

“It might be about something here at Cozette’s.” Meg peered into the air, watching from the corner of her eye as Peck started nodding.

“I wonder if it’s about something at the dock.” Peck nodded more quickly. He stopped smiling by this time.

“I bet it’s about our boat.” Peck’s head was in full nod and his face was solemn.

“Peck, if you love me you’ll tell me where the spark plugs are.” Meg knew she was playing unfair and that pulling the “if you love me” card was not being a good sister. She simply could not stop herself.

Peck said nothing for a minute. They listened to the flies buzzing around them.

“I don’t want to get into trouble, Meg.” Peck looked as if he might cry.

“Baby Brother, you won’t get in trouble, Sister Girl won’t tell on you.”

“I found Matthew’s keys and took them out one night late after everyone was asleep. I went down to the shed and unlocked his box.” Matthew kept a large homemade box in the shed where he kept his more valuable tools and some of his football memorabilia.

“He had all kinds of neat stuff. I just wanted to see it. I didn’t take any of his things.”

Meg peered at him. “Well did you take anything?” She knew the answer but asked the question anyway.

Peck dug into the pocket of his overalls and pulled out his fist. He opened his fist and simply said, “these.” Meg looked at the spark plugs to the boat in his hand. She took them out, carefully, and closed his hand back into a fist.

“Thank you, Peck. You only took what belongs to us anyway. This is Daddy’s boat, and he would want us to have them.”

Peck teared up, and Meg put her arm around him.

They sat there for some time, big sister holding little brother, both of them sweating in the midday sun. After a while Meg whispered to Peck.

“It’s okay. We’ll go see Momma one night soon. Think of the hugs we’ll get.”

Peck’s tears dried up. He smiled again thinking of their little bungalow, sitting on either side of Mommy with Meg, her arms around them both.

It was time to go home and be with Mommy. He needed her hugs, and he knew she needed his.

W
hen they got home, Delroy dropped Kero at Daddy Jack’s and made his way to an old store front near the courthouse. After parking he found himself looking at the name tacked outside of the door. “Amy Delahunt, Esq.”

He walked into the waiting room and was met by a secretary’s desk with no secretary. He used this trick himself. Even if he couldn’t afford a full time secretary, he sure wanted to look like he could. He rang the bell on the desk, waited 30 seconds, and then rang it again.

Just as he was about to leave the lonely waiting room, he heard the click of high heels and the closing of a door. He smiled, realizing he came while she was in the restroom, or napping for lack of work to do.

“Just a moment,” Amy called. He caught himself going into a swoon.

She walked in, heels clicking like an old typewriter, holding a file to make it seem like she was in the middle of something urgent. Busy lawyers inspire confidence in potential clients. Amy stopped dead when she saw him. Delroy was glad she didn’t frown.

“Well Delroy, I heard about your friend Newt. I’m sorry to hear about that. I guess I’m glad he’s not going to be able to hurt anyone else, though.” She seemed sincere, and he was glad to hear her use his first name.

“Well, I just came from Savannah after seeing him this morning. Newt is being framed.”

Amy smiled, a bit condescendingly for Delroy’s taste.

“Delroy, I’ve done my homework on you. I don’t just wait for things to happen, I like to figure them out before they do. I know you’re zealous. My daddy would say you’re like a “dog on a meat wagon.” But, from what I’ve heard, you have to let this one go.”

Before he could say anything she left to go back into her office. He stood there until she motioned to him with a smile and a slight nod. He had to be careful. She could crush him with that smile.

There was a long sofa on one side of the office and a large desk made from an old barn door in the middle. Her client chairs were old metal lawn chairs Delroy remembered his grandmother having when he was a child. The ceiling was covered with pressed tin.
Damn, this is just right
, he thought as he sat in one of the chairs.

She brought him a black coffee and sat down in her red leather chair, eyeing him as she took a sip of hers. Delroy was overcome with thoughts of running away with her and living on nothing else but love, scotch, and cheesecake.

Oh hell
, he thought,
I’m in trouble.

“Well Delroy, I wondered when you would come to visit me. I’m wondering why you would pick just now, though. Why are you here, anyway?” Amy smiled.

For a moment Delroy had no answer. Looking into her eyes he fought to come to his senses. Through sheer will he made his fog lift and smiled back at Amy.

“Well, I know you think I’m stubborn. I might be, but it’s generally when I believe I’m right. I believe in Newt and know he didn’t do anything to anyone. I also know I need a good lawyer to represent him with me. I was thinking that you might be that lawyer.”

His smiled faded into the serious gaze he used with witnesses during cross examinations. He had some mojo of his own and hoped a bit of it would work with Amy. She kept her gaze on Delroy and started clicking her heels on the hardwood floor.

“I thought you were a solo act, Delroy. Why in the world would you need anyone to help you with this case? Especially me, for God’s sake? You know I’m Johnnie’s attorney, and she’s not the happiest woman in Gratis right now. You must realize that.” Delroy knew Johnnie wouldn’t be very happy. She stuck her neck out for Newt and was now in serious danger of getting her head chopped off.

“Well, I figure Johnnie’s going to have to help us on this thing, now more than ever. You know, in for a pound and all that.”

Amy laughed. Delroy had a reputation for being up front and honest, but Amy knew a user when she met one. Behind those innocent blue eyes was a seasoned manipulator.

“Delroy, I appreciate your offer, but why would I put myself in Johnnie’s shoes? What twist do you have waiting for me if I take this case with you? And just so you know, I’m probably never going to take this case, or any other, with you.”

Delroy took another gulp of his coffee and sat his mug on Amy’s desk.

“Amy, I don’t have any surprises. I am out of answers. Right now I’m tap dancing just trying to make sure nobody else gets killed. Locking Newt up isn’t the answer because he didn’t do anything. I have all kind of women I’m friends with, or related to, here in Gratis. They could be this guy’s next target. I need help, and you seem pretty savvy. Plus, having a beautiful woman help me with the media wouldn’t hurt our case. There’s going to be a lot of television cameras with this one. We don’t have a serial killer in Gratis every day. When do you think you’re going to have another high profile gig like this one, in this town?”

Amy blushed, just slightly, and she got up to pour herself another cup of coffee. Delroy couldn’t tell whether she blushed because he called her beautiful or because she was excited about talking to reporters. Either way, he knew the hook was firmly set.

“Okay, Delroy, you have something there. Let’s go talk to Johnnie first. We’re going to have to get her on board with this, or at least off the ledge. When we spoke this morning, all I could make out was that you were a dead man, so to speak.” Amy smiled.

Delroy smiled back. He appreciated the strategic wheels already turning in her head.

“Oh, by the way, what’s the pay for this?”

Delroy laughed at the question. He thought a moment and replied.

“All the beer and barbeque you want at Daddy Jack’s. I bet Kero will give you free play on the jukebox, too, if you ask him nicely.”

Amy frowned and looked at him with her chocolate brown eyes. She collected her purse and headed toward the door. Once outside they got into the old Chevelle and drove away. Without missing a beat Amy took a scarf out of her purse and tied it around her head. Delroy thought her stunning and nosed the car toward Johnnie’s house.

Amy found an old Leon Russell cd on the floorboard and popped it into the player. If only for a moment, things felt right. Leon wailed as they drifted through Gratis, and Delroy drove slowly to make the trip last.

I
deas were starting to coalesce for Skipper like they never had before. Millie’s death was a magnificent thing, but he truly outdid himself with Merry.

His planning was fast and meticulous. He could feel himself getting better at killing, or as he now called them, these ‘sessions.’ There was none of the fear and uncertainty that he felt with the first one, and he was able to control his excitement.
God, I might be the world’s first tantric killer
.

Planning for Merry was easy. He knew what he wanted to do and how to plan for it. It was like school. The first tests were hard, but once he knew how to study the following ones got progressively easier. He knew he was on a very steep part of his learning curve, and that he would only get better.

Walking to her apartment that night reminded him of being a younger man in college, walking to a new girl’s place before going out in Gainesville. It felt new and exciting. Each second he walked through the street going to Merry’s was crammed with anticipation. He was aware of each leaf on the live oaks lining the way. The moss hanging from their limbs twinkled as if festooned with Christmas lights.

Then there was Merry. She glowed with anticipation, too. That it was for Newt didn’t matter.

He managed to slip by her into the apartment easily enough, but then she put up a good fight. Her punches missed his face, but he could still feel the welts she left on the side of his head and shoulders. If she hadn’t been wearing a towel she might have gotten away. Once Skipper swung the wine bottle he found on the counter, though, the fight was over.

He was immediately sorry because he enjoyed the foreplay. The bottle crashed with such force that Merry was pretty much incapacitated from that point on. Even though she had to feel some horror or sadness about the whole affair, Skipper did wish she was more in the moment.

Getting out was easy. He carried the bleach in a big bag with some towels, a sharpened tire iron, and a fresh change of clothes in case his got bloody or torn. After pouring the bleach over everything, he changed his shirt and carried everything out in the bag. He was in and out in only twenty-five minutes, although the time seemed to stop during the most frenzied parts.

Once he got out it was a matter of waiting for Newt to get there. He knew Newt was an hour away, so Skipper treated himself to some gin and tonics at Pinkie Master’s Lounge. They were served in plastic cups and too strong, but he savored every sip. After an hour or so he got his last drink and brought it with him, enjoying the Savannah night and feeling happy and calm. He got into his Jaguar, parked so he could see the front of Merry’s building, and waited.

After fifteen minutes Newt walked up, and Skipper called 911 to report a disturbance at Merry’s apartment soon after that. His choreography of the night was perfect. Skipper waited long enough to see a bloody Newt get thrown into the back of a police cruiser.

Now, floating in his pool on St. Simon’s, he knew he was evolving. He was done working in Gratis. Killing Millicent and finally Merry severed that tie. He no longer felt any fear at his father pulling his financial backing for a couple of reasons.