Confession (27 page)

“If you want, we can talk at one of the restaurants here in the airport?” John said while they walked away.

“That would be nice,”
said
Sam then he looked around the terminal.  “I retired from the FBI here in Phoenix ten years ago,” Sam said while they walked through the terminal.

“Interesting, I moved here ten years ago.  I was living in Virginia to be close to my sister,
after I
got tired of the snow and cold weather.”

John walked Sam over to a restaurant where they were soon seated. 

A waitress walked over with two menus.   John ordered a beer and Sam ordered some ice tea.  After the drinks arrived, they ordered their meals.

“What’s so important that you needed to see me about Allan Stein?” John asked then sipped his beer.

“Like I stated in my email, I was the FBI agent in charge of the October Slayer case,” he said while he removed his notepad from his overnight bag.

“I haven’t thought about that case in years,” John said while he looked sad.  “A day doesn't go by without me thinking of Annette.”

Sam felt sorry for him.  “I was extremely frustrated with that case.  The girl that was murdered before Annette was the sister of my best friend in college.  That caused me to do some heavy drinking.  So I was taken off the case and reassigned to Phoenix,” Sam said while he looked sad.

John felt sorry for Sam.  “I’m sorry.”

“Anyway, then this book called A Killer’s Tale comes out written by Allan Stein.”

“I never heard of it,” John added.

“So I read it and learned it’s about the October Slayer case.  But he rearranged the names a little.  But I then discovered that Allan wrote about some events that only the killer and myself knew,” Sam said then he took a drink of his tea.

The waitress brought their meals then left.   They ate while they talked.

“What kind of events?” John curiously asked.

“The killer sent me taunting letters word for word as what was in Allan’s book.  Then one night, when I was drunk at a bar, the killer came up to me and chatted.  He dropped two Army Warrant officer’s bars in my suit pocket.  But his book stated they were sergeant stripes.”

“That’s interesting.  But I don’t know how I can help you since I haven’t seen Allan since I graduated from high school.  Annette and myself left Curtis right after we graduated.”

“What can you tell me about him?”

“I remember him having a crush on Annette.  So, I didn't get along with him at all.  In fact, I hated him.”

“His book started out in nineteen forty-eight where the killer, Jimmy Nalla, beat a redneck to death because he was going to kill Jimmy’s brother, Ricky.  The story had Ricky seeing the redneck killing a young black girl he just raped”.

John thought for a few seconds then his eyes lit up when he remembered.   “I recall a story when I was around twelve years old.  There was a black man hung for killing a white man in retaliation for raping a young black girl.”

“The book stated Jimmy blamed it on the father of a young boy who saw him run out of the woods with a bloody baseball bat.  The KKK hung the man,” Sam said.

John sipped his beer while he tried to recall those days.  “That’s possible.  I believe that man killed was a member of a KKK chapter in a neighboring county.  Allan’s father was a devoted KKK member and many people feared him,” John said when took a sip of beer.  “Mississippi was heavily involved with the KKK back then and they were
extremely
violent.”

“I know.  I remember what happened in Philadelphia, Mississippi,” Sam replied then he sipped his tea. 

John nodded in agreement then sipped his beer.

“His book also mentioned a joke played on the killer when he was a teenager.  A joke where the girl, Fran, tricked Jimmy into thinking they were going to make out at a lake.  She talked him into getting naked then some other boys came out of the woods laughing.  They took his clothes and left him stranded naked in the woods.  He was able to get home but his father beat him for letting a girl get the best of him,” Sam said.

John recalled his high school days.  “I remember that day.  But it was under the bleachers after a football game.  It was my idea and Annette and a few of the other football players agreed to the joke.  Then Allan charged at me and I quickly reacted by kicking him in his balls,” John said then took a drink of his beer.  “But looking back now, we were just a bunch of stupid kids and I now feel bad for playing such a mean trick,” John said with sincerity in his eyes.

“I guess we were all young and dumb once,” Sam said.

Then John looked sad.  “I was stationed in Hawaii from nineteen sixty-one to nineteen sixty-six.  We came to stay with her mother in Garrison, Arkansas, since my next duty was Vietnam.  I was in Vietnam for a month when I got the news Annette was killed.  I heard that she was taken from the parking lot of a grocery store.  Then while I was home on emergency leave, someone broke into my house at night and kidnapped my baby girl.  I was drinking heavily to cope with Annette's death, so I didn't hear that happen,” John said while his eyes welled up.

Sam jotted down some notes.  Then his ears perked up curiously when he realized what John said.

“Kidnapped?  Who was kidnapped?” Sam said while he sat on the edge of his seat.

“My daughter Rachael.  The FBI was informed at the time.  She was only eight months old,” John said. 

“I’m so sorry to hear about that.  I got reassigned to Phoenix because the killer set me up to arrest an innocent man.  I beat the crap out of the poor soul thinking he was the October Slayer,” Sam said and looked ashamed.

“Anyway, Rachael was never found and I was kind of hoping that that’s why you wanted to see me.  I hoped you had some good information about my missing daughter,” John said with a disappointed look.

“I’m sorry.  But I don’t have any good news for you.”

“That’s okay.  It happened so long ago
, I accepted the fact that I may never
see Rachael again,” John said while his eyes welled up some more.

John reached to his back pocket and removed his wallet.  He opened it up and removed an old and faded black and white picture of Rachael when she was five months old.

Sam really felt bad for John while he looked at Rachael’s photo.  He noticed part of a stork bite birthmark on the back of her neck.  He jotted down that information.

“So after that, I continued to drink and was on the verge of getting kicked out of the Marines,” John said and looked ashamed.

“I know the feeling,” Sam said feeling ashamed.

“Then I met Laura and she straightened my ass out.  We got married in sixty-nine.  Our son Jason was born in seventy and daughter Suzie was born in seventy-two.  I stayed with the Marines for a thirty-year career.  I retired as a full bird Colonel,” John said.

“I had a forty-year career with the FBI.  My drinking caused a divorce and I never remarried.” 

John’s eyes lit up when he remembered something.  “Wait, I don’t know if this is important, but there was something strange that happened back in, oh, around seventy,” John said.

“What's that?”

“Someone planted a bunch of flowers all around Annette's headstone.”

“Flowers?  Do you know who?” Sam curiously asked.

“I never found out.  But they died shortly there after and nobody replaced them,” John said.

Sam found that interesting while he wrote it down.

They finished their meal and the waitress brought over two checks.  “I got the meal since you’ve been so kind to meet with me,” Sam said while he grabbed John’s check off the table.

“Thank you Sam,” John said.  Then he looked curious.  “Do you think Allan might be the October Slayer?”

Sam thought for a few seconds.  “No, but I think he knew who the killer was and protected him until he wrote his book.”

“Have you talked with him?”

“He died just before his book got published,” Sam said.

John thought about his comment for a second.  “Sounds like he wrote a confession for someone.”

Sam
thought about his statement.  “It s
ure does.”

Fifteen minutes later, they shook hands outside the restaurant.  “Email me if you can think of some more questions,” John said.

“I will and thank you for your time,” Sam said then got out of the car and walked to the hotel.

Sam walked off in the direction of ground transportation.

John walked off in the direction of the parking garage.

Sam spent a quiet evening in his hotel room.  He thought about his meeting with John while he watched
Another Thin Man
movie on the Turner Classic Movie channel.

“John can’t be the killer since he was in Hawaii or maybe that’s what he wants me to believe,” Sam said while he looked at his notes.   “He could have killed those girls.  Maybe Annette found out and he killed her to save his ass,” Sam said to himself as a possible scenario.  But he had a good hunch about John.  But still decided to do his trust but verify belief.

His eyelids got heavy
and he soon fell fast asleep.

S
am got up before the sun rose and got ready for his trip back to Florida.

His flight to Atlanta for his connecting flight to Florida was smooth and that gave Sam time to plan his next moves.

Sam had two hours to kill in the Atlanta airport, so he walked around. 

He saw a lounge and walked up to the doorway.  He stared at all the booze bottles on the shelves behind the bar.  The bottles of booze started to call his name to come party with them. 

Sam inched his way into the lounge as he had
a strong
urge for a drink
of liquor
.  He turned around and rushed away fighting off those evil urges.  He saw a Starbucks down the terminal and headed in that direction.

After he got a cup of coffee from Starbucks he sat down at a table.   While he sipped his coffee, his cell phone rang.  He opened it up and looked curious when he saw the caller in the viewfinder.  He did not recognize the name.

“Sam Woods,” he answered the call.

“Sam, my name is Joe Vaughn.  You sent an email wanting to know if I was stationed with Allan Stein in Fort Benning.  It was during the sixties.  How can I help you?” Joe replied from Sam’s cell phone.

“Like my email stated, I’m a retired FBI agent and it’s extremely important that I talk with you about Allan’s book called A Killer’s Tale.”

There was a few seconds of silence.  “Are you that FBI agent that was on the real October Slayer case?” Joe curiously replied.

Sam hesitated. “Yes I was.”

“I live in Birmingham, Alabama.  But, I’m leaving for a European vacation to Germany and Italy in a couple of days.  So you better get up here quick,” Joe said.

“I can be there tomorrow evening.”

“That’s good.  Please call me as soon as you get into town.  I’ll provide directions to where we can meet at a restaurant.”

“I will,” Sam replied then disconnected the call and saved Joe’s phone number.

Sam got up and walked to his gate.  He waited there for his flight.

The flight back to Daytona Beach was smooth and Sam drove to Cindy’s house.

He knocked on her front door.  Cindy opened it up and smiled when she saw Sam.  “You made it.  How was your trip?” she asked while Sam stepped inside.

“It was good.  I learned that after the last girl was murdered, some other creep kidnapped her baby daughter,” Sam told her while they walked through the living room.

“Oh my God.  I can't imagine the horror her family went through,” she replied while they walked to the dining room.

“It's a crazy sick world.”

Cindy nodded in agreement.

Sam looked around and nobody else was in her house.

“Where’s Kristen?” he said while he saw the birthday decorations in the dining room.

“They should be here any minute.”

Sam cringed when he remembered his layover in Atlanta.  “Ah, please don't kill me, but I need to drive to Birmingham, Alabama first thing in the morning.  I found an Army buddy of that author and I need to talk to him before he goes to Europe
for vacation
.”

“Can't you do that over the phone?”

“I work better in person.  You know, look for body signs to see if they’re lying.”

Cindy looked upset but decided to let it go.   “I won’t kill you but I’m starting to worry about you gallivanting around the country and possibility meeting face to face with this killer.”  She looked worried.

“Don’t worry.  I’ll be alright and I’ll probably spend the night up there so I won’t be driving back exhausted,” Sam said with a comforting tone while they walked back into the living room.

Her doorbell rang.  She opened up the door and Kristen stood outside with Kathy, Cindy’s daughter and Kevin, her husband.

“Happy eighth birthday,” Cindy said with opened arms.

Kristen ran into the house and gave Cindy a hug.  Kristen saw Sam and her eyes lit up with joy.  “Hi Mister
Woods
,” she cried out.  She ran over and gave him a hug.

“Happy birthday, Kristen,” Sam said then gave her a kiss on her forehead.

She looked up at Sam with a gleam in her eyes.  “Are you coming to my play?  I want you to come to my play.”

“Of course I’ll be at your play.  I promise!” Sam said then kissed her forehead.

Kristen had a huge grin.

Kathy and Kevin walked into the house where there were more greetings of hugs and handshakes.

Kristen’s birthday party began a few minutes later.

Sam got up at
four thirty in the morning.

I
t took him thirty minutes to get ready for his trip to Alabama. 

He sat down at his computer and went to the map quest website.  He got directions from Daytona Beach to Birmingham.  He printed them out, grabbed his small overnight bag, and stuffed with some change in clothes.

He headed out the door.

Nine hours later, Sam arrived at the outskirts of Birmingham.  He pulled into a gas station just off Interstate I-65.  He filled up his car with gas.

After that he pulled over to the side of the building and made a cell phone call.

“Hello,” Joe answered the call.

“It’s me, Sam Woods.  I’m at a Chevron station off exit two fifty-eight just off Interstate sixty-five,” Sam said into his cell phone.

“I know where it’s located.  Wait for me there.  It should take me about twenty minutes,” Joe said then disconnected his phone call.

Sam waited in
side
his car.

Twenty minutes later a silver Cadillac Seville SLS pulled into the service station. 

Sam watched the Cadillac and saw Joe Vaughn, a bald and overweight man driving.  Like many military veterans they were once fit and trim while on active duty.  But when they retired the flab spread like wild fire.

Joe parked his car by Sam’s car.  He got out and walked to Sam’s window.

“Are you Sam Woods?” Joe asked after Sam rolled down his window.

“I am, are you Joe Vaughan?

Joe nodded in agreement then they shook’s hands.  “Follow me,” Joe said then got back inside his car.

Sam followed Joe to a restaurant a half-a-mile down the road.  They parked, walked into the restaurant and were seated right away.

As soon as the waitress walked away with their drink order, Sam and Joe got down to business.  Sam had his note pad ready.  He told Joe about Allan passing away.  Then he mentioned the items that only the killer and Sam knew about.

“I’ve read Allan’s books and loved them all.  But A Killer’s Tale was by far the best.  It’s his only book where the killer got away,” Joe said then he looked sad.  “I’m sorry to hear he passed away.  I liked Allan, as did everybody in our office at the time.”

They got quiet while the waitress brought some ice water and sweet tea.  She took their meal orders and left.

“And it’s very interesting about those items,” Joe said then sipped his water.  “But I do remember he was fascinated with the October Slayer case back then,” he said then paused.  “His story also mentioned that the killer got a new Ford from his brother every October.  I remember Allan would go on these camping trips with his brother Billy.  Then in, oh, around,” Joe said while he tried to remember.  “Ah yes, around October sixty-two, Allan returned to Fort Benning with a brand new sixty-three Chevy Impala.  He said his father decreed that he would get a new Chevy each yea
r
,” Joe said then took another sip of water.  “But you know the story mentioned something to that effect.”

“Yes with Ford’s instead of Chevy’s,” Sam said while he jotted down that information on his pad.

“And his book also mentioned the killer having a tattoo on his bicep.  I never
saw any tattoos on Allan so he must have
made that part up.  I thought I would throw that out there.”

Sam jotted that information down on his note pad.  “What about his brother Billy?”

“I never met him but Allan talked highly about his little brother all the time.  He even mentioned he was the deputy sheriff in his hometown for a while in the early sixties.  I got the impression Allan and Billy were very tight.”

Sam looked interested with that information.  “The book had the killer as a sheriff and in the Army Reserves,” Sam said.

“I think Allan mentioned his little brother was in the Army reserves for a brief period,” Joe replied.

They got quiet when the waitress brought their meals.  She left and they resumed and talked while they ate.

“Just like in his book, I remember, oh around sixty-one, I heard Billy arrested some black man and sent him to jail for rape.  Allan commented how proud he was of helping Billy send the bastard to prison.  Then he bragged he found a new career direction.”

“What kind of new direction?” Sam curiously asked.

“I remembered he started reading tons of detective magazines and murder books in sixty-two.  Then talked about writing his own murder mystery books when he retired from the Army.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

Joe thought for a few seconds.  “Sixty-three.  That’s when I went to Germany for five years then spent the rest of my career at Fort Brag.  I heard through the CID mill that Allan went to Vietnam in seventy,” Joe said then sipped his tea.  “So, do you have any prime suspects?”

“Not yet.  I believe the killer hid evidence in a wooden chest and hopefully that will identify the killer.”

“Just like his book.  Allan probably made up that part.  You know, his theory to the killer’s behavior,” Joe said cutting off Sam’s sentence.

“Everybody seems to believe that,” Sam said while he jotted down some more information about Joe.  “So, did you retire from the Army?”

“After twenty four years.  I retired as a Warrant officer five.”

They had some small talk while they finished their meals then left the restaurant.

After they ate, they stood outside the restaurant by their cars in the parking lot.

“If I can help you with anything, please feel free to call me,” Joe said while he shook Sam’s hand.

“I will,” Sam replied then got inside his car.

They left the restaurant and headed off in different directions. 

Sam drove into the parking lot of a hotel. 

He parked and got a room for the night. 

Later that night, Sam relaxed in his room
while he reviewed his notes. 

H
e opened up his cell phone and made a call.

“General Woods,” Charles answered the call.

“Hey son.”

“Dad, two phone calls within a month.  Do you need some more help?”

“Ah, yes.”

“I’m all ears,” Charles replied with a chuckle.

“Can you verify some service time for
three
men?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“First one is a John Watson, Marine Corps stationed in Hawaii from sixty-one to sixty-six.  Then he went to Vietnam around sixty-six.  He was from Curtis, Mississippi and retired as a Colonel.  And the other guy is Joe Vaughn.  Army stationed in Fort Benning from sixty-one until sixty-three.  He was CID.  And the third one is Billy Stein in the Army Reserves probably in the early sixties.  He was from Curtis, Mississippi.”

“I’ll see what I can come up with.”  Then there was a few seconds of silence from the cell phone.  “How’s your investigation going?” Charles asked concerned.

“I’m making good progress and don’t worry, I’m not hitting the bottle.”

“That’s good.  Do you have any suspects yet?”

“Well, the brother of the author is looking a little suspicious, but I’ll have to do some more digging.”

“Well, I hope you find this person and put this behind you forever.”

“Me too, son and thanks for all your help,” Sam said.

“Love you, dad,” Charles responded.

“Love you too, son,” Sam replied and disconnected their call.

Sam looked at his notes and his eyes lit up with an idea.  “Here comes the hard part,” he said while he opened up his cell phone and made a call.

“Hey honey, how did your talk go up in Birmingham?” Cindy answered the call.

“Good.  I got some more good information.”

“Figure out who the killer is yet?”

“I’m leaning on the brother of the author.”

“That’s interesting.”

Sam hesitated, as he did not want to tell her this, but knew he had to proceed.  “Speaking of which, I’m going to make a trip to Mississippi tomorrow and see what I can dig up on this brother,” Sam said then cringed while he waited for her response.

There was a long pause of silence.  “Sam, I really don’t think that’s a good idea.  I mean, if he is in fact the killer, you might not make it home alive,” she said and sounded really worried.