Confession (36 page)

“Get down Michael,” Becky yelled while she closed her cell phone and shoved it in her pants pocket.

Michael jumped off the boxes just as the two men walked inside the house.

Becky eyed the wooden chest by the front door.  “Can you take that wooden chest to the trash for me?”

“Yes Ma'am,” Jake replied.

“May I use your bathroom?” Willy asked.

“Sure, it’s down the hall,” Becky replied.

Jake walked over and picked up the wooded chest.

He walked out the door.

Willy headed toward the hallway.

The crash sound of wood breaking outside was heard a few seconds later.

Becky looked worried and ran out of the house.

Outside, the moving Jake lay on the ground on top of the smashed wooden chest.  Michael’s razor scooter was tangled around his shoes.

“Michael!  How many times have I told you, never leave that scooter lying in the grass!” Becky yelled then rushed over to the man.

Michael appeared in the front door.  He saw Jake in the grass with is scooter tangled around the man’s shoes.  He looked sorry.

Becky helped the Jake to his feet.  “Are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” Jake replied.

“I'm so sorry.”

“That’s alright,” Jake replied then bent down and started picking up the pieces of broken wood.

“Go put that scooter away,” Becky told Michael while she walked to the door and went inside the house.

Michael ran over to this scooter and picked it up.  He walked it over and set it down by the front end of their mini-van.

Willy walked out of the house and saw the broken pieces of wood.  “What happened?”

“I tripped on the kids scooter and busted this chest.”

“It’s a good thing it was going to the trash,” Willy said then bent down a picked up some pieces of wood.

Jake saw a
n old color
picture in some of the pieces of wood.  He picked it up and glanced at it.  Willy peeked over Jake’s shoulder.

“That’s weird,” Willy replied while they looked at the picture.

Jake walked to the house with the picture in his hand.

Becky was in the kitchen when Jake and Willy entered the house.

“Ma-am,” Jake called out.

Becky walked out of the kitchen and entered the living room.

“Is there another problem?”

“No, I found this picture amongst the pieces of the wooden chest.  Thought you might want it,” Jake said.

Becky took the picture from him and looked at it.  “This was in the chest?”

“Yes ma-am,” Jake said then grabbed another box and walked outside.

Becky stared at the picture.  “Why would dad keep this?” she said while she stared at an old color picture of a gravesite for Annette Watson with flowers planted all the way around the headstone.

She immediately removed her cell phone from her pocket and made a call.

“Sam, it’s me Becky.  Listen, I found something of interest,” she said into her cell phone.

“What’s that?” Sam replied from her cell phone.

“Well, apparently, there was a picture hidden in that wooden chest.”

“A picture?  Great!”

“But I don’t understand it because it’s a picture of a gravesite for Annette Watson,” Becky replied.

There was a long moment of silence from her cell phone.  “She was the last girl killed by the October Slayer.  I talked with her husband a few weeks ago.  He’s a retired Marine Colonel.”

“Maybe that’s what Uncle Creepy was looking for?”

“Could be.”

“You’re welcome to come over and pick it up if you wish.  I don’t have any use for it.”

“I’ll be over in a couple of hours,” he responded.

“Make it five o-clock.  I’m at dad’s and the moving men are picking up his stuff to take it to Goodwill.”

“I’ll be there at five.  And thanks.  This might lead to something.”

Becky closed her cell phone and shoved it back in her pocket.  She stared at the picture and got the creeps.

She walked out of the living room and went into the kitchen where she dropped the picture into her purse.

I
t was
that
late in the afternoon
.

Sam snuck out of his house
while Cindy dozed off in the living room reading a book
.
  Sam knew she always takes a nap around this time of the day. 

Later h
e arrived at Becky’s house and
sat down with Marty and Becky at the kitchen table.

He looked at the old color picture of Annette Watson’s headstone with flowers around the headstone. 

“This is really bizarre!” Marty said.

“Why would dad keep a picture of a dead girl's gravesite?” Becky asked while she tried to understand.

“It couldn't be for research since it was hidden in his attic for years.  But why doesn't he have pictures of those other girls’ gravesites?  Why only this one?” Marty asked and scratched his head while he tried to come up with a reasonable answer.

Sam recalled his talk with John Watson in Phoenix.   His eyes lit up, as he strongly believed he had the answer.  “Unless it's a good place to bury something.  A place nobody would ever think of looking.”

Becky got pissed after she thought about Sam’s comment.  “That's what Uncle Billy was looking for!  For the life of me, I can't understand why dad protected that creep.  Well I'm not!”

“But you know something, he didn't protect him with his book,” Sam said then opened up his cell phone and made a call from his contacts list.

“Hey John, it’s Sam Woods.  Listen, I hate to bother you but there’s a huge favor I need from you,” Sam said into his cell phone.

“What’s that?” John replied from John’s cell phone.

“I need to dig at the backside of Annette’s headstone,” Sam replied.

“For what?” John replied a little bewildered with this request.

“Well, remember when you told me about that day when someone planted flowers around her headstone?” Sam said.

“I remember.”

“A picture was found at Allan Stein’s house.  It’s an old picture of Annette’s headstone taken with flowers planted all around her headstone.  A picture that was taken over thirty years ago.  I believe there could be evidence buried there,” Sam said.

“You have my permission.  I’ll contact the cemetery,” John said immediately.

“Where is she buried?” Sam asked.

“Heavenly Peace Cemetery in Orlando,” John replied.

“Thanks and I’ll let you know what we find.”

“No problem,” John replied then disconnected the call.

“You won’t believe this, but she’s buried in a cemetery in Orlando.  The Heavenly Peace Cemetery,” Sam told Becky and Marty.

Becky’s eyes widened in surprise after hearing Sam’s news.  “Oh my God, dad and mother are both buried in that cemetery.”

Sam couldn’t believe the coincidence with the location of the gravesite and that gave him a gut feeling he would find something valuable.

Sam’s cell phone rang.  He looked at the viewfinder and cringed knowing he’s in trouble.  “Hello honey,” he answered the call.

“Where are you?
  I woke up from my nap and you were gone,” Cindy asked and sounded worried.

He hesitated for a few seconds.  “I’m at Becky’s house in Kissimmee,” he said.

There was few seconds of silence.  “Didn’t that police officer tell you not to leave Daytona?” she scolded him.

“I know, but they found a picture I believe shows where the evidence is buried in Orlando,” he told her.

There was another few seconds of silence.  “Be careful,” she said then disconnected the call.

“I better get back to Daytona Beach.  A retired FBI agent that was friends with your uncle was killed in Jackson, Mississippi after I talked with him.  I believe Billy fabricated some information and told the Jackson police I shot this guy named Bo.  Now I’m a suspect,” Sam told Marty and Becky.

Becky looked furious.  “I’m going to pray the evidence is found.”

Marty nodded in agreement with her statement.

Sam got up and they walked him to the front door.

Meanwhile, while Sam drove up I-4 and headed north to Daytona Beach, Cecil Hartman watched the local news channel on the TV in the break room at Stein Chevrolet.

People in the break room made comments on how great it was that Billy was away on vacation.

“We’re on vacation when he’s on vacation,” one salesman told another salesman who nodded in agreement.

“Down in Jackson, police have an update in the shooting of retired FBI agent, Bo Smithson.  Sam Woods, another retired FBI agent down in Daytona Beach, Florida has been identified as the potential shooter in the death of Mister Smithson,” the news reporter stated.

Cecil looked ashamed while he got up and walked out of the break room.

He headed to his cubicle and conducted a search on the Internet.  He jotted down some information and rushed out of his cubicle.

Cecil rushed out of the dealership and got inside his car.

He drove out of the parking lot.

Twenty minutes later, Cecil parked his car at a CVS store where he rushed to the pay phone.  He made a phone call.

“Jackson police department, how may I direct your call,” the female officer answered Cecil’s call.

“I need to speak to the detective working the case on the murdered retired FBI agent,” Cecil said while he tried to disguise his voice.

“One second,” the female officer replied.

“Detective Blaine Salt.  How may I help you?” Blaine said from the phone.

“Yes.  I would like to remain anonymous, but you have the wrong suspect with the shooting of that retired FBI agent.  It wasn’t the man from Daytona Beach, it was Billy Stein from Curtis, Mississippi,” he said into the phone.

“How do you know that sir?” the female officer asked.

“I was in Hoo Hoo Park that night with another man.  We were in the woods doing you know what, and I saw Billy Stein shoot that other man then drove off.  He was in a two thousand five brown Malibu from his dealership in Curtis.   Come to his business and you’ll discover that a Malibu matching that description is missing.  I can’t talk anymore since I’m married,” Cecil said then he quickly hung up.

He rushed to his car and felt relived that he did the right thing.  Plus he swore he would never return to that park or any other similar park.

He got in his car and drove back to the dealership.

Three hours later, Sam took a nap in his lazy boy chair with his cell phone was in his lap.  It rang and Sam jumped up startled.  He quickly opened it.

“Sam Woods,” he said.

“Sam, it’s John Watson.  I contacted the cemetery and you have permission to dig on the backside of her headstone only.  A Brent Brooke will have a worker dig for you.  You can call him at five
,
five
,
five
,
six
,
nine
,
six
,
two
,
tomorrow,” John said from Sam’s cell phone.

Sam looked happy.  “Thanks and I’ll get back with you if we find something of value,” Sam said then he closed his cell phone. 

He got up from the chair and did a little victory dance with
his cell phone in hand.  H
is cell phone rang again. 

“Sam Woods,” he answered.

“Mister Woods, it’s Detective Blain Salt from the Jackson, Mississippi police department,” Blaine answered.

Sam stopped dancing and knew this had to be bad news.  “Yes sir,” he answered while his stomach knotted up.

“We had some new developments in the shooting of Bo Smithson case.  An anonymous individual called and told us that he was in the park that night and witnessed a Billy Stein from Curtis, Mississippi shoot Smithson.  He said it was a new Malibu and we verified that Mister Stein borrowed a Malibu from his dealership a few days ago.  Plus your story checked out with Joel Nelson.  I’m no longer considering you a suspect,” Blaine told Sam.

“That’s a relief.  Thank you detective,” Sam said then disconnected his call.

Sam quickly made another phone call and brok
e the good news to Cindy.  He
returned to his victory dancing since he was finally making great progress.  But he quickly stopped when his right calf cramped up.

He limped in pain out of his den.

Sam rose up bright and early the next day. 

He was excited while he drove down to Orlando to the cemetery.  Becky didn’t want to be there but told Sam to contact her when they found evidence to fry Billy.

After meeting with Brent Brooke, the director of the Heavenly Peace Cemetery, Sam and a cemetery worker, named Harold, headed out to Annette’s headstone. 

Sam didn’t notice Allan’s headstone while they walked through the final resting places for hundreds of people.

They stopped and Sam looked at her headstone. 

“Where would you like me to start digging, sir?” Harold asked with his shovel ready

“At the backside of the headstone,” Sam replied.

Sam paced around while Harold stuck the shovel in the ground.
  He was careful not to disturb Annette’s headstone.

Ten minutes later, and the Harold dug two feet down and the earth revealed no secrets.

“There’s nothing there, sir,” Harold said.

Sam walked over and peeked inside the hole.
He looked disappointed.  H
e remembered something from
the end of
Allan’s book.  “Dig deeper,” Sam told the worker.

Howard looked at Sam and frowned as he was getting tired. 

Sam removed and opened up his wallet.  “Two more feet, please?” Sam said while he of
fered Howard forty dollars
in cash.

Howard quickly snatched the cash and shoved it in his pocket with a smile.  “Don’t tell the boss,” he said while he started to dig deeper.

“It’s our secret,” Sam replied while he watch more dirt come out of the hole.

F
ifteen
minutes had passed and
Howard dug deeper into the hole.

“Nothing sir,” the worker said.

“No!  Something has to be down there,” Sam said then grabbed the shovel from Howard.  He started poking at the botto
m and sides of the hole.  H
e heard the thud from hitting something while he poked at the right side of the hole. 

“There’s something
down
here!” Sam said excitedly while he scrapped dirt away from the side of the hole where he heard the thud.

After a
few
more
minutes
of
digging
dirt away
with the shovel, Sam saw the side of a plastic bin.  “Bingo.”

Howard looked in the hole and saw the side of the bin.  He took the shovel from Sam and proceeded to dig the bin out.

Ten minutes had passed
and Howard dug the bin out from the ground.  He set it on the grass.

Sam tried to open the lid, but it wouldn’t budge. 

Howard removed a knife from his pocket.  He pried the lid open.

Sam took a deep breath and part of him was scared this would be another dead end. 

He removed the lid, and he looked inside.  He stared for a few seconds
.  A
huge grin developed on his face
while he looked inside the bin
.  “It’s about time!” he cried out in joy.

Howard didn’t have a clue what this was all about.  “What’s so important that you had to find this bin?”

“It contains evidence
to five murders that happened a
long ago,” Sam told Howard.

A cold chill fell upon the worker and he stepped away from the bin.
  Even though he worked around graves all day, the thought of evidence to a murder gave him the chills.

Sam knelt down and looked inside the bin. 

He saw dresses, pants, panties, driver’s licenses, and teeth in a jar, sawed off tips of baseball bats, car keys, pictures and some negatives. 

He stood up and removed some latex gloves from his front pocket and slipped them on his hands.

He knelt back down and reached inside the bin, and he removed the pictures. 

The first picture he saw was of Billy in mid-swing while he beat An
gie with a bat. 
“Fucking bastard!” Sam said while his blood boiled, as he knew he finally caught the October Slayer.

H
e looked at the picture of Rhon
da tied naked to a tree.  T
here was another of picture of Allan who stood by Rhonda’s naked body.  He looked like a proud hunter.