Two Graves (A Kesle City Homicide Novel) (6 page)

The three girls watched the dark haired man slide through the crowded bar. He smiled and nodded to a few people, expertly balancing his drink while dodging around the early evening patrons. He turned sideways to slip between two groups of drinkers, giving the girls a good view of his tight, jeans-clad butt.

“Ya, real hot. I’m still not looking anymore.”

“It never hurts to look,” Belinda said.

Christine’s laugh was almost lost in the raucous noise. “Maybe. But why bother when you’ve got the hottest thing going waiting at home for you?”

However, she watched until the crowd swallowed him up. Belinda caught her eye when she looked back and Christine laughed guiltily.

Christine Yeck was out for one last drink as a single woman. In two days, she was to be married.

She suddenly smiled again and her small nose crinkled into what her fiancée called her
darling face
. God, she was happy.

“You’re
really
going to go through with this?”

Christine turned her attention on Heidi. Twice married and twice divorced, Heidi was not a believer in marriage. “We’ve signed the lease on the apartment, the minister is sacrificing a goat or whatever they do in Jamaica, and our bags are packed. The day after we arrive in Montego, we hit the beach and we are husband and wife.”

“Oh well, then you absolutely
have
to get married if you went to all that bother. But the rum better be good!” said Belinda.

Belinda waved for another round and Christine settled back in her chair. She could not stop smiling. Her life had never been better. She had been smiling since mid-morning when her boss had presented her with a wedding present – a promotion. She was now Divisional Head of the East Coast Section of Marketing and Sales. How would she fit all that on a business card?

“Will you please stop smiling?”

“You’re just jealous, Bel.”

Belinda pointed at the crowd of men at the bar. “I have a right to be jealous. Have you seen these losers? Christ, 99% of the population is gay, married or just too ugly for words!”

The three girls all stared at each other and then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

*

Preston was staring.

He tried to look casual but it was difficult.

How long had it been since he had seen her? He didn’t want to think how many years it had been. She had hardly changed. She was still beautiful. She still looked as beautiful as the first day he fell in love with her.

As beautiful as the day she destroyed you.

He ignored that thought and watched her over the top of his drink. God,
Sandra Kew
. After all these years, there she was.

Squinting slightly, he could see her nose crinkle when she smiled. Just like before. Her nose had always crinkled when she laughed.

And, she always laughed at you.

How old had he been? High school? Almost, the summer before high school

*

He had spent the day at the library and got interested in a book. He was in the back where there were no clocks and little traffic – a place where he could go unnoticed. A place where he could hide. As if any of the Neanderthal jocks ever came into the library. But still – always better to be safe.

When the library lights flashed to signal closing time, he had been shocked. He should have left fifteen minutes earlier. The book had been so good. He loved books. He escaped in books. But this one had cost him. If he didn’t hurry, it would cost him even more.

The fastest way home meant cutting through the schoolyard which was not his normal route, never his preferred route. The sight of the large red brick building pricked his senses. Tensing, he became more alert. He tried to stretch his senses as far as he could, watching for a flash of a coat. He listened for the pounding of the basketball. He couldn’t see the courts but he should be able to hear the dull thud of the ball. He listened for the bicycles or laughter.

He heard them before he saw them.

Instinctively, he stopped and crouched behind a car at the curb. One of them came into view. He was on his bicycle, standing on the seat with one leg stuck out behind him.

Preston moved as fast as he could across the open space from one car to the next. His heart was beating. He only had seconds. He mustn’t let his fear freeze him. Act now, he told himself. Using all the speed he had, he ran to the next car and stopped. He wondered if the explosion of laughter was directed at him. Carefully, he peeked over the car.

The group had appeared around the corner. There were six of them, four boys and two girls. The boys were on bikes, doing tricks for the girls. He heard “tether ball” drift across the street and knew where they were headed. He still had a chance, if he had the guts.

The tetherball pole was at this side of the school. If he looked to his right, he would be able to see it. They would play tether on their bikes. The girls would cheer them on and he could get by. He even had a choice.

The safest way would be to continue down the street to the gully. Once down the hill and in the trees, he would be safe. He could come up just two streets from his home. He would be home before he knew it. And, more importantly, before they knew it.

Except, it had rained for days. Today had been the first sun since Wednesday. The gully would be muddy and slippery. If he went home muddy, his father would not believe him about the library. His father would take one look at the mud and know he had been down in the gully. He could not tell his father
why
he had to go down in the gully. His father would call him a sissy. Then, his father would beat him.

Forget the gully.

That left the more dangerous route of the primary side of the school. He was really risking the bacon by going that way. All it would take would be for them to decide to go back around the school. Still, he had no other choice. He could go around the primary side and walk behind the bleachers. Once behind the bleachers, they wouldn’t know it was him. He would be safe and almost home. He would arrive clean and no beatings tonight, thank you very much.

His keen mind, honed by years of hiding, had come to this conclusion in seconds. Before they could reach the tetherball and while they were still focused on their bike tricks, he moved. In a matter of heartbeats, he was safe with the school between him and them.

He listened carefully for anyone behind him. As he approached the final corner, the bleachers just yards ahead of him, he thought he heard a noise behind him. Looking behind, he was around the corner before he realized – and was looking straight at them.

Echoes. The echoes had betrayed him.

Panicking, he tried for the bleachers. He had barely leaned into his first step before the first bike skidded to a stop in front of him, kicking gravel onto his shoes. On his left was a huge puddle. He heard another bike coming up behind him and he started to spin around. He never even saw the foot aimed at is back.

He was jammed forward and went sprawling into the mud puddle, his glasses flying from his face. For a moment, he just stayed there, unable to move. He was covered in mud, his back ached from the kick and his chest hurt where he had landed on a rock.

“In the mud, right where you belong, porker!”

He slowly brought himself to his knees and searched the dirty water for his glasses. Putting them on his face, he tried to wipe the mud from the lenses but they just smeared. He didn’t trust his voice – it would just crack and sound like he was going to cry. He struggled to his feet and started to walk. He just walked between two of the bikes and prayed. Then, he saw her – Sandra Kew.

He worshipped Sandra and knew that she loved him. Everyone was laughing but her. Amid the hoots and taunts, she was just standing there. Despite the pain, he straightened more. She would stick up for him and everything would be all right. She was popular and they would listen to her. All she had to do was admit that she loved him.

And then?

Then, even through the mud-streaked lenses of his thick glasses, he saw her nose. The nose that he loved so much began to crinkle. Just a bit, at first. Then more. Then, the laughter burst from her, spittle spraying from her mouth. Suddenly, she could barely stand, she was laughing so hard.

At you, always at you!

*

He looked over at Sandra’s table.

He had welcomed the beating from his father that night because it helped to erase the sound of Sandra’s laughter. The pounding of his heart in his ears helped to drown out the memory. Even the taste of the blood in his mouth was a relief from the bile that had risen since Sandra’s betrayal. That little crinkle of her nose had crushed his world.

And now you can crush hers.

She looked over at him. He suddenly knew, with crystal clarity, that she had seen him. She had seen him and recognized him. And just like that day, she had turned against him. She was laughing at him, again. She was telling all her new friends about that day. She was telling them about the little mud baby. That is what her friend had been pointing at – him!

They were laughing at him. All his life, he had been laughed at.

His glasses. His weight. His walk. How smart he was. How bad he was at sports. It never ended.

Even Sandra. He loved Sandra and she ridiculed him. He could have given her so much. His very soul but she had crushed him.

How had she found him? How had she tracked him here? Why had she invaded this place, his one haven? The one place he didn’t feel alone. He was always invisible but, at least here, he could almost feel like he belonged.

Now, he could never return.

It was always the same. The story would spread. Soon, people would be pointing him out and whispering. They would know about the puddle and the tears and the humiliation and they would laugh. He could never escape the laughter.

There is a way though, isn’t there? A way to pay them back. A way to get even.

He clenched his fist. He clenched it so tight that his fingernails dug into his hand. He could feel the pain and something else.

He could feel the boy’s hair in his fingers.

An electric chill passed down his back. Goosebumps broke out on his body. The sound of the wet thud and the crunch of bone erased the sound of laughter. Tiles cracking, bone splintering, blood and brains splattering. The power surged through his body.

Control, power and revenge, everything that had been denied him. His breath came rapidly and he felt light headed. Then, it happened. He slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and felt the knife. He held his breath. She stood talking to the others, her coat in her hand. They didn’t move. With a final giggle, she turned away from the table. She was leaving and she was leaving alone.

The pissant boy had been good. He had felt so good.

But the boy wasn’t real – just an accident.

True, it was an accident. He hadn’t meant to kill the boy. He hadn’t even known the boy.

He knew Sandra. It will be so much better this time.

The bar stool scraped loudly as he got up and left the bar while Sandra paid her tab.

Cliff Degget was a happy man. He popped a beer and crossed the apartment to the narrow bed. Apartment, hell the place barely qualified as a room. Seven paces across. Two hundred and sixty-four trips across the room made a mile. And he had done his miles waiting for the call that was due tonight. He was finally going to connect with Angelino’s number one guy. He was only one step from the boss of bosses. And that was closer than most criminals ever got to the man and light-years closer than any other cop!

Not bad for a poor black boy from the ghettos of Kingston, he thought, smiling at the invented persona.

Two long years of working his way through Kingston, Miami, and New Orleans and finally back to Kesle. He stretched out on the bed. Lucky he was short, he thought, as his feet hit the end of the bed. He drank down half the bottle of beer and let out a restless sigh.

Getting up again, he went over to his laptop and checked his latest bid on eBay. Somewhere in the long hours and endless nights, he had got himself hooked on eBay. He only won maybe one in fifty of his auctions but it passed the time. And besides, it wasn’t as if he could afford to win more. But his eBay days were almost over.

He could see the end of this assignment. Everything was in place for the final play. And this play would guarantee him a Detective Second Grade once he brought Angelino in.

He fought when his boss had wanted to bring in the Special Organized Crime Unit. This was supposed to be a Narcotics bust. But, now that they were involved, Degget had another option when the case was finished. Narcotics had been an incredible opportunity, especially right out of the Academy but it had its limits. SOCU might be the answer to his next step in the department.

Degget was so busy imagining which Division he would get himself assigned to, he almost missed the light step on the back stairs. He checked his watch. They were arriving early. They were also being quiet.

Too quiet.

After two years, Degget’s paranoia was well earned and keenly developed. He reached for his gun and moved silently over behind the couch near the window.

They came in fast. Two men were in the apartment and spreading out as the door banged shut again. The first carried a shotgun and the second had a semi-automatic. Bullets sprayed the open kitchen and bed. He waited for them to move farther into the room.

The shotgun blew a large hole in the bathroom door. They started forward, forced to bunch together to get by the small dining table. Degget stood and pumped two rounds into each man. The shotgun went off as the first fell and Degget felt the hot air pass his left side. The second man went down silently.

Degget took a step toward the bodies as the front door burst open again. Degget launched himself backwards and fired. The bullet plowed through the heart of the third intruder as he was still trying to find a target. Degget continued backwards out of control. He heard the glass break behind him and felt himself suddenly suspended in nothingness.