Markers (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 3) (12 page)

Joshua had mixed emotions. He wanted to believe Lola McIllwain, believe she told him the truth… He did believe that
she
believed what she had told him. Maybe she and her sister were some of the lucky ones. They had landed in a good place after being sold by their father, but that was not the case for all the Lola’s and Lita’s out there…

Twenty

Loosed Ends

A slow rain began to fall as Joshua watched the limo leave the cemetery. The further away the limo drove, the heavier the rain fell. Joshua cranked up and left the cemetery too. He did not turn in the direction the limo took; he turned right and drove back toward Walter Moore Road, temporarily outrunning the rain. He turned onto Walter Moore and followed it towards Highway 45. He drove in silence weighing everything he had learned of the McIllwain’s in his mind. The bipolar thing took him by surprise. He had often wondered if his mother was bipolar or had some similar illness. From what he learned, her father, his maternal grandfather, was a fucking lunatic that murdered his wife, buried her, and then eventually killed himself and let his children find him in that condition. Joshua’s mind went to a similar situation that he had handled a few years prior.

The rain caught up to him and the closer he got to Highway 45, the heavier the rain fell. He slowed to almost a crawl until just before he crossed over the old Chickasaw Creek Bridge. He turned onto a dirt road across the street from Old Citronelle Highway and into the parking lot of the long-standing Chunchula Church School. A white one-room building, it had served as both church and school for the community from 1909 until 1931. Church members had preserved it well. They kept the old building painted, the grounds clean, the grass cut, and the bushes neatly trimmed. They mostly used it for special occasions, such as Homecoming and weddings. Occasionally, they left the new church and had Dinner on the Ground at the old place, which sat alongside Chickasaw Creek at the corner of the dirt road and Roberts Road. He thought they also still used the creek for the baptizing of new church members…

As he thought of this, Joshua remembered having ‘Dinner on the Ground’ at church when he was a child. After preacher McNeil got through preaching that morning, he said the Blessing and then all the grownups hauled butt outside to fix their plates. The women of the church had gone out earlier to set up the tables of food while the preacher was preaching. They tried to serve the men first, as was customary, and a long line was already forming to get some of his mama’s fried chicken and potato salad.

Most of the children would rather play than to sit still and eat; he was no exception. He remembered running and chasing other children until he thought his legs were going to fall off. Then he ran to the table where women had filled mason jars with ice-cold lemonade and sweet tea. He was hot and thirsty; it was so cold and good…

When he got through playing and wanted to eat, the platter of fried chicken and bowl of potato salad his mama brought was empty. He remembered what happened next.

“Mama, I’m starving!” he exclaimed as he ran up to the table.

“You should have eaten when I told you to, Joshua, it’s all gone.”

“But, I wanted to play-James and Austal did too!” Joshua remembered that he almost cried because of it. He wanted to. He may have cried, he really did not remember.

He remembered his mother placing her hands on her hips and telling him that he should have listened to her and not waited until everything was gone. Then, when he thought all hope gone of getting something to satisfy the growl in his belly, she smiled and handed him a plate she had covered with a napkin and hid under a dishpan for him.

“I would never let my baby go hungry,” she said.

“Mama, you’re the best!” he exclaimed, grabbing the plate and running to a shade tree where he sat down and devoured it.

“And don’t you forget it, Joshua Eugene Stokes!” she hollered to his back as he ran.

Joshua was glad the memory had come to him. He did not have many memories of his mother. For reasons he still did not understand, he had blocked many of them out.

Lola McIllwain’s words came to mind as he reached under the seat and withdrew the bottle of whiskey. He took a long pull, replaced it, and then lit a smoke. He had seen many tragedies in his thirty years in law enforcement and he’d had his share of lunatics to deal with, but thinking of the murder/suicide of the McIllwain’s and the loose ends he was left with, took him to the small community of Fairview and a murder/suicide that left everyone stunned. No one could believe that such a thing had happened. Many in the area still did not believe the coroners finding in that case… come to think about it, the family of the victims were the only ones that did not question the findings. Several, even went so far as to say they “Saw” it coming. Joshua remembered thinking,
if you saw it coming, then why did you not prevent it.
There is usually one innocent victim in a murder suicide, and it is not always the one that is murdered that is innocent; many times, the suicide is the innocent party… as was the case in Fairview.

He remembered it as if it had just happened.

He had gotten the call on a Monday morning about seven fifteen. By the time he got there, it was eight on the dot. The family, the neighbors that lived on either side of the road, and most of Brannon Road had gathered in the yard. If it
had
been fowl play involved, the evidence would have been trampled into the ground, and any evidence inside the home was definitely compromised by the shear number of individuals that had gone inside to ‘see for themselves’ that they were indeed dead. Even though the coroner ruled it a, “murder/suicide,” that case definitely had loose ends. And, although it seemed an open and shut case to the coroner, Joshua would never be able to tie them together in his mind. There had to be more of a reason. People usually kill for a reason.

The Findley’s were an older couple with grown children. They lived alone. Both seemed to be in good health. Their marriage was stable. Why then, would one murder the other and then kill himself afterward. The manner in which they done it, was not what he considered a quick and easy death either. When you take a sword to someone and whack him or her all about the head and shoulders, in fact, he hit the poor woman over thirty times; it is not an easy death. The kicker was that after killing Mrs. Findley with the sword, Mr. Findley then shot himself in the head. Why didn’t he just shoot Mrs. Findley too? It would have been much more humane to do so. The similarities he saw between the two cases were the mental illness.

Several years after the death of the Findley’s, Joshua had the chance to talk to their youngest daughter; she was waiting tables at the Hickory Pitt. As she waited his table, he asked her why she thought it went down the way it did. She told him that most folks did not know that her mama was suffering from “old-timers,” and that since affected with it, she had been a severe burden on their father.

“She drove Daddy insane, Sheriff; that’s bound to been what happened. He must a just lost it and took that old sword of his to her. She wouldn’t the same person she was before her sickness. After realizing what he’d done, he just couldn’t live with himself.”

“Y’all couldn’t get help for her?” he asked.

“We tried everything, Sheriff, but Daddy wouldn’t gonna put Mama in no old folks home or an institution. They did not put their business in the streets, Sheriff; they weren’t that type of people. He did not want anyone to see her like that either. He tried hard; I know he did. There was times she did not even know who he was or who we was. She would sit in a corner looking like she was scared to death of us… other times she was a stark raving lunatic. She would scream, holler, and cuss Daddy like a dog; she would cuss us too; that was
not
my mama, Sheriff; my mama was a sweet loving person… Anyhow, it had come to a point where she would stay up all night. Daddy said he woke once, to find her standing over him with a butcher knife; she was jabbering at a picture on the wall and making stabbing motions with her hand. He found her several times down by the lake talking about baptisms. He was scared she would wander into the lake and drown. It was a twenty-four-seven job watching Mama… It was just an all around sad situation, Sheriff. They was both having it hard… there’s only so much a person can handle though. Sometimes, people just snap.”

“Sometimes, people just snap” The words echoed through Joshua’s brain as he reached under the seat to get the bottle of whiskey. Is that what he did-did he just snap? The rain had slacked to a drizzle. He took a swig of whiskey and then another. After that, Joshua placed the bottle back under the seat and then cranked up. He lit a smoke and pulled out of the parking lot. He drove all the way to Georgetown in silence. Once there, he stopped at Jack’s Quick Stop, bought a pack of cigarettes, a sausage biscuit leftover from the breakfast round, and a co-cola. As he was walking out the door, he ran into Jasper Bohannon. Jasper tipped his hat to him.

“Mornin’ Sheriff,” said Jasper, as he walked past him into the store.

“Mornin’,” he replied, glad that Jasper did not stop to talk. He definitely did not want to talk about what had happened to Cassie Bohannon or Tom Stringer. Moreover, even though Roy McGregor and Cassie were living together when she was murdered, he did not expect to see Roy McGregor leaning against Jasper Bohannon’s truck, which was parked next to his cruiser in the parking lot.

“I thought that was your car,” said Roy, as he walked up to him.

“Mornin’ Roy, I’m surprised to see you with Cassie’s father; I didn’t think you two got along too well.”

“We didn’t before… Cassie’s death; you know how it is, Cuz. Like old Ben Franklin said - Life's tragedy is that we get
old
too soon and
wise
too late” I figured I wouldn’t put off to tomorrow what needed to be done today. We all need to be like that.”

“Yeah, reckon we do” Joshua said thoughtfully, wondering where Roy came up with all the quotes and such he was always spouting out.

“I was gonna ride up to your place this evening, but since I run up with you here, I reckon now is as good a time as any,” Roy said as he pulled his pipe out of his pocket and tapped it on his boot to empty the soot out of it.

“Fire away,” Joshua did not mean to sound grouchy but felt he come off that way. Roy’s Ben Franklin quote about too old too soon and wise too late, made him realize how true that was - old too soon and wise too late…

“I was just gonna stop by to see if you needed anything; if you know what I mean,” Roy grinned. Joshua saw his reflection in Roy’s sunshades. If Roy’s long dark curls, were shorter, and
he
was six inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter he could pass for Tom Jones. They had the same dark good looks. Joshua could not help but to grin back at Roy, whose lopsided grin was infectious.

“Yeah, I might be running a little low-Hook come by and spent the night a week or so back. We hit my stash pretty hard.”

Roy chuckled. “Yeah, old Hook likes his smoke. How’s little Emma doing-is she still staying out at your place?”

Talking about weed, and Roy asking about Emma, caused Joshua to remember dope dealer ‘Bubba.’ When Emma came to him the night before, he sensed that she had taken something, something stronger than weed. He wondered if she had gone to Bubba again. He had warned Bubba not give her any heroin or other strong drugs, and he had told him to stay away from her; he had all but threatened to kill him if he did. However, Joshua knew from experience that people like Bubba did not respect the law, they did not respect life; hell, they didn’t respect anything or anyone really.

“She’s doing alright I reckon,” he replied. “She’s not staying out at my place regular anymore. Last time I saw her, I thought she might be messing with Bubba again.”

“That ol’ boy ain’t right, Josh. He has a mama fetish or something going on. Jess Stone told me he caught him lying up in bed with a damned old truck stop whore that was slap ‘eat up’ with gonorrhea sores; he said that old woman must’ve been damn near seventy years old and trying to look like a teenager.”

“Hmm, I don’t know much about truck stop whores nor about Bubba,” Joshua admitted. Bubba was probably in his early to mid twenties and Joshua had never had any dealings with him as a teenager.

“Not everybody that deals smack gets caught when they buying and selling it. Many of ‘em don’t get in any trouble when they’re teenagers either. That boy makes frequent trips out to Texas. He gets that shit from the Mexican Cartel. They don’t have a bit of trouble bringing it into the States. I know all this shit because that was what my brother Race was doing before he was locked up. If he hadn’t been using that shit for undercover-not everyone can stay clean when they wallow in filth-that’s some addictive stuff he was using-he wasn’t strong enough to not become an addict while pretending to be one.”

“I didn’t know the details,” Joshua admitted. Race, was Horace McGregor, older brother to Roy, and son of Royce.

“You know he got hooked on that shit when he was working undercover out of Houston. At least they sent him up without breaking his cover. Cops don’t stand a chance in prison.” Roy looked over toward the quick stop entrance.

In the reflection of Roy’s shades, Joshua saw that Jasper Bohannon had come out of the filling station and was walking toward them.

“Good talking to you, Roy,” Joshua said as he stepped past Roy and opened the door to his cruiser. “Stop by this evening, I should be around.”

“I will, Cuz. See you then.”

Joshua did not wait; he cranked up and backed out of his parking spot. He was not about to be caught up in another conversation. He needed some time to himself and the best way to do that here-lately was in his cruiser. He pushed in his Steppenwolf tape, drove onto Wilmer-Georgetown Road, and headed toward Wilmer. He had two more stops to make and then he was heading home. He needed to stop at the post office and he needed to pick up something to eat for later on.