MysteryWriter's Final Spring - Cover

MysteryWriter's Final Spring

Copyright© 2004 by MysteryWriter

Chapter 6

"These guys are not paying twenty bucks for a blow job in a porn movie house. They are paying five hundred for a straight encounter. A guy who can pay that isn't likely to be a stinky vagrant. He might be fat and bald but hey, in the dark as they say."

I skipped the obvious questions, I didn't give a damn whether or not she got any physical pleasure from it. "Now I do have a dilemma."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"If I can verify your story, then things are going to return to normal for you. If I can't, then I write the book."

"You don't trust me?" I didn't need to see her, the smile was in her voice.

"What has gotten into me? How could I doubt a hooker who set up her own family." The light tone must have hit the right note because she laughed softly.

"How do you do that?" She knew how but she wanted to hear me say it.

"I want to meet with someone from Nightlite and then someone from you dear ole dad. When I do that, I will change things enough so that no one can tell it is you. Otherwise it becomes an expose' kind of thing."

"What about your friend the newspaper dyke?"

"You have to figure out what to do about her. As for me, I work alone she is just tagging along."

"Alright give me that cell number. I think I can work out both." There was a gleam in her eye. I suddenly got the impression that June loved to stir up trouble. She had better be careful the person or persons who did Mike in might just do a twofer.

"Make it today," I said. It was a hollow threat, since I would take the information right up till the day I started to write it all down.

"I think you can count on at least getting a call today." She smiled that smile again.

I had discs and my label maker going full steam the next afternoon when the first of the calls came. "Are you the man they call Deacon?" the voice asked.

"Unless you are a collection agent I am." I decided to go with the tough guy image.

"Cute, This is Gerald with Nightlite. I understand you want to talk to me."

"I do. We need to meet."

"You don't really expect me to drop everything do you?"

"Truth is I do. I want to look you in the eye when you lie to me. It is the only way to avoid the spotlight shining on night lite. Oh yeah, it won't even do to kill me, because the trail of bodies would lead back to your door."

"The newspaper woman?"

"Well her for sure and about anyone else I can leave a note with. If you killed Mike, then I guess you are in for the whole pound. Truth is I don't know who killed Mike so I am just casting a wide net right now."

"So, I meet with you, look you in the eye and you will be satisfied?"

"Probably," I said it with a light hearted voice.

"When can you be in Charlotte." It had become crunch time. The next statement I figured would tell me something.

"I can't, but I will make time if you come here."

"You expect me to drive four hours just to talk to tell you that I don't know anything about any rape or murder."

"I do indeed." If he was going to kill me, I figure he would have agreed without question. If he had nothing to hide he would have refused.

"Alright but I am not going to be happy about this."

"Never thought you would be Gerald. By the way I would have expected someone named Guido."

"Sorry, I am not going to go into any of this over the phone."

"When you get near me call with the name of a restaurant."

"Deacon, you are lucky we are a non violent bunch here. It would be a lot easier to just kill you."

"I expect so. If you change your mind about that just remember, there have been a others before you. Most of them are in jail or dead."

"I think I will make a few calls to check that out. Information is a good thing," he replied.

"I sure as hell cant deny that."

"If I leave after lunch I can be there by five, how about we make the meet in my motel room."

"I think not. Call me when you get here and I will tell you where. Your chance to call it ended with the Motel suggestion." The conversation ended there.

"So what do you think?" Dee asked.

"I think they are either clean or they will murder us both. Either way we should know something more when the meeting ends."

"How so if we are dead?"

"We will know if that light people talk about is an oncoming train." She smiled as I had expected her to do.

I spent the first part of the day working on CDs. The burner and the computer were going like hell when Dee spoke, "Deacon, we need to get ready. That Gerald will be here soon."

"Not much to do kid." I said it but I began to shut down the computer. It didn't take long to carefully pack away everything. The computer went into the tiny trunk of Dee's sports car. The rest of the CD equipment and masters followed it in. Everything else go packed away just as if nothing unusual was in the wind.

I followed Dee to her house where she parked the car in back. No sense being obvious even thought I expected her house was safe. "I'm surprised to see you wearing a sports coat. I haven't seen you in anything other than a sweatshirt since we met. I never knew a man with so many torn sweat shirts." She was actually referring to the ragged cutoff sleeves.

"Oh when I was a teenager they were all the craze. I am trying to revisit my past I expect."

"If that's the case, why haven't you hit on me?" At first I thought she was kidding, but she didn't break the questioning look on her face.

"Dee, you told me from day one not to bother. That I was too old and you were bent the other way."

"I know but I am still surprised. From what I read in your stories that doesn't seem to bother you."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"Look Deke, I know a little bit about writing. People write about what they know. This is not your first time traveling with a woman young enough to be your daughter. Or????"

"Don't even go there," I replied with a smile. She rightly assumed that there was nothing more in that line of questioning.

"Okay so who was the younger woman." When I didn't answer she went on. "My guess is someone with a sexual identity problem. You look kind of safe. That is you would, if I hadn't read your books."

"You keep saying that but no one has read my books. I wish they had."

"Deke, I know how to access your computer. I have certainly been alone with it long enough to download a hundred files."

"I see," I really didn't want to ask her which files she had read.

"All men, but you in particular love a challenge, so Why?"

"I don't have short time flings. When we nail this down in the next couple of days, I will be back on the road."

"You know you could ask me to go with you. Don't look so panicked I don't love you but this has been fun. The festival things are a blast. Pretending to be your daughter or your lover is also quite a fun game."

"Well, I certainly am glad you are enjoying it. Just what is it with the daughter stuff, this aint Arkansas?" I smiled since I knew she was a liberal.

"Right, you are from North Carolina and you are never going to be president."

"You don't know how right you are."

My balance had taken a turn for the worse after having been better for the previous couple weeks. When I caught a break like that the horse head cane came out and the real cane was put away, but never too far away. One thing about those extra things growing your head the normal stuff had to make room for it. In my case the squeezing of brain tissue resulted in balance problems. They ranged from a slight weaving to staggering so bad I gave drunk a bad name. At those time the cane returned. That night as much for protection as for balance I walked with the heavy steel cane. A plumber friend of mine had made it from half inch galvanized water pipe with all the necessary fittings to make a handle and a slightly heavier tip. Since all I ever say in the hardware stores was plastic, I expect that the pipe was ripped from an old house. The restaurant was one of those things I hoped I wouldn't be caught dead in.

"Now Dee I want you to be careful. I want you to keep thinking Jimmy Hoffa during this meeting."

"I will old man, you take care of yourself and I will do the same."

"Good, I might need us both taking care of me," I replied. I knew that she didn't get it but she smiled anyway.

Gerald turned out to be a black man. I was pretty much shocked. Okay it was because he had sounded like Harry Reasoner on the phone. He enjoyed my surprised look. The man was at least 6'2" and pushing 250. Someone best not to offend, I thought.

"University of North Carolina Theater Arts major." Just as easily he slipped into the street dialect. "But if some ho give me sheet, I kins kick her worthless ass." He actually laughed.

"So what do you do to newspaper reporters?"

"I have no idea what happened to your friend. I drove four hours so you could look me in the eye when I said that. I also came to tell you that it might be a good idea for you to forget everything you have learned about Nightlite."

"Now why on earth would I do that?"

"Oh I would try to bluff you, but the truth is there is nothing much I can do to you if you don't. You would look mighty foolish if there was no Nightlite when your book came out. See, we are just smoke and mirrors. We are kinda like a big cloud. You make a big wind and we blow away to regroup and come back later with a new name."

"So nobody could touch you and I get sued by the Governor's people for a story I can't prove even a little part of."

"Damn you do catch on. I can't believe I didn't have to fill in any blanks for you."

"Sure you do, who killed my friend." Okay we weren't friends but it sounded better coming out that way/

"Look to daddy, if you want an answer. I sure as hell don't have one. Ask yourself this, why would I kill him. I have my customers list and I know he is after me, so my boss just opens a new web site. Business flows again and I don't have to worry about a murder charge. No Deacon this one doesn't fall on me, cause I don't have a motive."

"How about if you were the rapist." I watched his face. I hit a nerve with that one.

"I don't have to rape nobody to get laid. A black man who can travel in all the right circles has his pick of your women." It was said in a sneer.

"Hey, they aint my women. See Gerald I am out of the game, I guess actually I am an observer these days."

"Well I just wanted you to know that I screw white women exclusively." He smiled one of those really nasty looks that only one man can give another.

I smiled my very best old man's smile. "Can't say I blame you for screwing my people. I sure as hell wouldn't screw one of yours either."

Instead of becoming angry he smiled. "You got a good mind old man, damn shame you so old."

"Son, you don't have any idea how big a shame it is." I didn't answer his curious look. "So, I guess we are through."

"Unless you got something else witty to say."

"Oh sure just one thing, I would buy myself a large bottle of glass cleaner." I did answer his curious look. "Those mirrors better be real clean. I expect June will roll on you like a beach ball when it comes down to survival."

"Thanks for the warning." He stood to leave after draining his coffee cup. I watched him until he was out of the parking lot.

I waited and drank my coffee until the waitress came to refill the cup. "Miss, do you guys do take out."

"Sure, you want to order something?"

"No I wonder if I might have a plastic bag. You know the kind you put take out orders in."

"I suppose so but why?"

"Ask the manager how much he wants to sell me this coffee cup. I sure do like it. Coffee always tastes better from one of these."

"You are going to take his cup aren't you?" Dee asked it with a knowing smile.

"Yep, his mirrors aren't as clean as he things." I smiled back at her.

"Geeze remind me not to piss you off writer."

The check I got had an additional five bucks on it, but I figured it was cheap enough to teach Gerald a little about old men. The plastic bag with the cup inside went into Dee's trunk beside my computer. Getting the cup off to a cop who would run it without too many questions was going to be hard. Dee came to the rescue. She just happened to know a cop.

Dee seemed to know everyone. We took the cup to a middle aged women. Dee explained her need for an identification and secrecy. The woman having no idea what it was all about explained how much trouble she would be in if Dee rolled her up. Dee explained how much trouble she would be in if her husband and the church found out about her last affair.

The woman took the cup but didn't look happy about it. I had kept quiet during the whole conversation. The woman pointedly handed me the card with her number. "Call me tomorrow writer and I will have it for you. Dee this is the last time you ever do this to me, understand,"

"Sure Evelyn, if this wasn't really important, I wouldn't be here now."

"Fuck you Dee," the older woman said.

"Evelyn honey, you did." Dee smiled a sweet smile at the woman who had met us in the courtyard of the historic city hall.

We were in the car when Dee smiled at me, then said, "Writer, lets go home and get roaring drunk."

"Why not," I had forgotten that she lived in the town. Instead of taking me to the campground, she drove me to her house. Just as soon as I figured it out, I demanded that she stop by the Liquor store. The new fifth of Jack Daniels sat in the space behind the seat as she drove to her house.

I was surprised to find that she lived in very moderate older frame home. I guess I had expected more from the daughter of the paper's owner. She didn't bother to explain how little the regional paper, in the almost totally rural area, made. I had a pretty good idea from the house where she lived. The house did not match up to the sports car which was probably worth new as much as the house was on that day. Since young people have a different set of values, I didn't bother to ask.

Dee let me into the house through the simple front door. The fact that it had no glass seemed in keeping with the house's utilitarian appearance. The inside was decorated but by someone who had eclectic taste, or no taste at all. After a closer inspection, I decided that it was indeed a toss up. Either way I am sure that the pictures and furniture made a statement I just didn't get it. The whole interior seemed out of sink. A lot like a man in blue jeans with a five hundred dollar sports coat on top, interesting but not exactly right.

I sat on the sink in sofa, my very least favorite kind, where I stayed for the evening. It was pretty much because lifting my ass off of it required more balance than I had. One time up was all I would ever be able to manage. I chose to wait until I was drunk enough so that the alcohol would seem to be the cause for my stumbling around. Yes it was obvious to even me that I was self conscious about the balance thing. It would most likely cause me to lose my drivers license. If I got stopped, I sure as hell would fail the agility test, then I would pass the breathalyzer. Given the contradiction, it would be off for a blood test. It could pass that alright but then the problem would be what the hell did I do or ingest to cause my erratic movements. That might get me some time in a local jail while they sorted through it. The eventual outcome would mostly be me driving without a license. I had a lot to do and the lack of a piece of plastic wouldn't stop me.

I was pretty drunk by ten pm. So drunk un fact that when Dee informed me that I couldn't get a pizza delivered in the small town, I passed quietly out on the sofa. I am not sure what Dee had in mind but she shook me about twice then tossed a blanket over me.

I awoke the next morning feeling worse than I had in years. The hangover reminded me of the bad old days. I had tried to control my drinking then to. It hadn't worked any better in those days. I resisted the urge to have a morning pick me up. Instead I went to Dee's over decorated bathroom and heaved my guts out. It didn't make me feel one damn bit better. I'm not sure if the light came on while I was heaving or after but it did click for me. I knew I had to find a meeting. I didn't have any clean clothes so I skipped my morning shower. Instead I went in search of Dee. I needed her to drive me to the campground.

When I pass out drunk I am really out. That is the only way I can explain what I found in Dee's bedroom. I would have knocked, but the door was open, why I have no idea unless she wanted me to see. I looked in to tell her I needed a ride. I didn't get a word out since Dee was naked and fast asleep. Beside her lay a woman or maybe a girl, who was equally naked. The female sensed me in the doorway, I suppose. She smiled up and me but made to attempt to cover her slightly plumb body. It must have been like her father looking in on her or maybe even grandfather since she was so young. She moved in Dee's arms. She rolled toward Dee, then kissed Dee passionately.

Dee evidently hadn't the girls ability to feel my presence. Instead of either covering herself or jumping up indignantly, she began to move against the younger woman. I smiled so that the younger woman could see it then went to the kitchen. Since I couldn't find any coffee, I had a coke while I awaited to two women. Whatever they did took over twenty minutes to complete.

When Dee came into the room, she was covered by a very short terrycloth robe. On anyone else it might have been sexy, on Dee it was just functional. Her skinny legs poked out one end and her very flat chest showed through at the other. The almost open robe did not show any breasts at all just the sternum. It might have been the first time that I had seen anyone so thin that the bone actually was visible.

"So Writer, Zandy tells me you like to watch?" It was a question not a statement.

"She obviously has a kinky bend there but I'm the wrong guy."

"I know, I noticed when you walked away. You didn't have to go you know."

"Sure I did, you just don't know." I smiled at her so that I could be a little mysterious.

"How about putting on some clothes and take me back to my van?"

"How about Zandy takes you back. I kind of want to take a shower. You do remember how it is after sex.?"

"Vaguely what about Zandy?"

"She is like you, she has no clothes here. She can drop you off on her way home it isn't too much out of the way."

"Sure but we need to move the computer to her car then. I am going to want to work some. It might be a long time before you make it out."

"Okay but it wont be long. I am going to take a shower and get dressed. It could be a couple of hours but no more."

"I still want my computer before that."

"Alright," with those words she removed a set of keys from a nail set in one of those cutesy key holders. It was the word I had been searching for to describe her interior design. It was early childhood cutesy.

She didn't even bother to put on shoes as he walked to the door calling Zandy over her shoulder. The three of us stood around while I moved the computer equipment from Dee's sports car to the trunk of Zandy's family style sedan.

I was surprised that Zandy said hardly a word as we drove to the campground. She did ask me what Dee and I were up to. I gave her the sanitized version of our little investigation. I also explained that I was going to be writing a novel about it all.

"I think that must be what appeals to Deloris about you. It certainly had nothing to do with sex. I think she sees you as a father figure. Since you are a writer like her dad."

"It could be," I replied not at all flattered by the remark.

"Well whatever," she said dismissing it and me too I expect. We found the space exactly as we had left it. I had not been worried about that part of it. Gerald didn't have time to prepare a proper reception for me. Even in the freewheeling world of crime, you cant just have something done instantly. There has to be meetings ect, unless you were dealing with a very high figure. Gerald would probably never be one of those. I was pretty sure he played in a world where he lacked the pedigree.

An hour later a cleaner sweeter smelling version of me walked into the office of the state park. Finding a telephone directory was easy. Finding a meeting was a bit more difficult. It took a couple of calls to find the meeting spot then reasonably good directions to it. The one o'clock meeting required that I do a little fast moving but I made it just fine.

It started with the usual My name is Charles Burke and I'm an alcoholic. I admitted my slip and the circumstances behind it. As usual most of the comments though encouraging meant nothing but as most always happens one person cut right to it.

"Going out drugged might be okay for most people, but not for you. If it was you wouldn't be here, so you know what you want to do. I can't and would never judge you anyway, but you have already made the next decision on the road out,"

He was right of course. I guess I just needed if not say it then to at least admit it to myself. I wanted to be in control till the end at a time of my own choosing. The man had looked at me without flinching. I nodded that I understood.

After the meeting the man a few years older than me handed me a Styrofoam cup filled with coffee. "It's a rough break but at least it wont be alzheimers."

"At least I have that. How did you know?"

"It's in the eyes. I was a medic in the Nam. I seen that look on guys who knew they was gonna die. That is a memory that never goes away."

"I missed it but I had an uncle there. They tell me he never was like other people after he came home. Not crazy, just saw thing different."

"Did that to some of us, others it humbled, but some just went back as if it never happened."

"I guess so, by the way thanks."

"For what you had already made up your mind."

"Yes but I needed that one last piece of the puzzle." He looked at me knowingly but I said it anyway. "To take control till the end."

"Control is what it is all about Charles."

"My friends call me Deacon," I said it looking into the thick black coffee. "You know they have the same lousy coffee at all these meetings.

"Don't they just?" he said it with a grin. I dropped a ten in the coffee can on the way out of the door.

I was at the van when I remembered to turn the cell back on. It had been off during the meeting there were no signs people just did it. Cell phones ringing at an aa meeting somehow seemed wrong. I think it has to do with your priorities maybe.

The missed call light was blinking as was the number of the caller. Handy little things those phones. I punched in the numbers carefully since my fingers are not the right size for those tiny buttons.

"Sandyridge State Park," The voice stated it almost happily.

"Yes this is Deacon, I mean Charles Burke did you guys call me?"

"Just a moment please." With those words the voice turned into homogenized music.

"Mr. Burke, You had a call a while ago."

"Since when do you guys forward messages?" I asked it because I already knew the answer.

"When it's the Governors office." The man didn't add the, that's when, but it was in his voice.

"So what does Ed want this time?" I asked it as if I knew Edward Thomas the Governor of North Carolina at the time.

"Er Er, it was some kind of secretary or something, said to tell you to be available around noon."

"Did the secretary or something leave a number?" I asked it enjoying the man's discomfort. He had probably either been to my site or asked someone else to go there. When whoever it was saw my beat up old van instead of a fancy motor home they must have been truly bewildered. Then me acting as if I knew the Governor probably made them very uneasy.

I took a quick look at my watch. It was already noon and me with a fifteen minute drive back to the site. "If I were you, I would send someone down to the site to advise the governor's representative that I will be another fifteen minutes to half hour. Of course, you don't have to. It is just a suggestion."

I stopped at a convenience store for more coffee and orange juice. The stop put me at the campsite closer to 12:30 than 12:00. I wasn't a bit surprised to see the long black car in my drive. The Lincoln town car was at least as long as my van. What did surprise me was the woman sitting at my picnic table. She was smoking a cigarette and seemed for all the world to be communing with nature. The view of the lake was magnificent even if the deer were no longer watering.

"You should see it in the morning mist and with the dear standing on that sandbar," I said it when I was within earshot. I looked back to the driver standing outside the car watching us closely. He was close enough to intervene without being close enough to hear. I could imaged the ten mm pistol hanging under his shoulder or tucked in the waistband of his pants. Either way he had bodyguard written all over him.

"I can only imagine. You know I lived here pretty much all my life but have never been to this park. It is quite lovely."

"That must make you June's mother?"

"It does, and who the hell are you?"

"You mean you don't know already. I'm just a struggling writer."

"I have never heard of you until a couple of days ago, but you sure make a big noise when you begin something. I spoke with a detective who is working on June's rape. He checked you out."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Doesn't much matter what you would or would not have Mr. Burke."

"Good Point Mrs Thomas." I smiled even though it probably would have given me an ulcer, if I had time for one to develop.

"So, you know my daughter is not perfect?"

"Yes I do, what I don't know is why your husband doesn't stop her from doing something so obviously dangerous to herself and the family."

"Ed gave up on her long ago. He pretty much told me to handle her and try to prevent any embarrassment."

"Sounds about like the best a stepfather can do." I had a little experience in that myself.

"It probably was but in effect he said to June, 'Do what you want just don't make waves. She has been trying ever since to make waves without doing too much damage."

"And this newest one?"

"Until your friend Mike came along I had it contained. He began poking around. He somehow knew which buttons to punch, so he had June all upset." She noted my look and stopped talking.

"Why the hell would June be upset. She was out to create a little havoc in your life. Mike was as good a way as any."

"Oh no, if it make the paper she would lose the safety net." I looked blank enough for her to explain. "June knows I won't completely desert her. At least not unless I am forced to choose. Edward is very important to me on several levels and June is grown. She should be able to take care of herself. The influence I can throw around from the Governors office can help her out now and then. She doesn't want to lose it."

"Okay, so which one of you killed Mike?"

"Truth is Mr. Burke, I had to look it up after June called me. I had no idea who he was or that he was dead. She called and I told her to just leave it alone till he had something real then we would buy him off. I didn't even know his name until last night."

"That all sounds good but there are only three of you with a motive to kill him. Somebody is going to hold his murder."

"The highway patrol says it was a hit and run accident."

"Since they work for your husband, I have to question the amount of effort that went into their investigation."

She nodded her dyed blond head at me. "So Mr Burke, what is you price? Everybody has one you know?"

"True but you can't meet mine."

"You never know, give me a try."

"Ten more years of life." When the recognition finally struck her, I watched the hard look slip from her eyes. She wasn't the bitch I had met at the table.

"I see."

"I expect that I have enough time to finish this."

"How about your family?" It looked as though the bitch had returned.

"Only one I have is a wife, who has more money than I ever did. You don't have anything I want."

"That isn't want I was asking. How are they taking it?"

"Same as you would I expect."

"Life is so unfair." She said that as she began walking to the car.

I got past my dislike for her at least enough to give her an honest appraisal. June's mother was a knock out for a woman approaching fifty. Lots of money had made her trim, well dressed, and a woman with that 'taken care of' look. The big question was not how attractive or even how innocent she appeared. The question was could she have had Mike killed. It was a toss up question. I had defined the investigation while I talked to her. There was always a point when it all got sorted out. There were only three groups of people with a real motive.

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