Dead River (50 page)

There could be nothing in his pockets that wasn’t necessary. No billfold, no money, not even pocket change. He didn’t even need his wristwatch since he could check the time using the car clock.

He was concerned about the dirt road. If he left any tire tracks, they could be traced back to his car. Since he needed a set of new tires, he made an appointment at Goodyear to have them installed early Saturday morning. Then there was his alibi. This he thought about long and hard. Every one he came up with was risky.

After the Christmas luncheon in the company break room, Adam went back to his office and continued planning an alibi. After a few minutes, it finally hit him. He was making things harder than they needed to be.

Detective Carillo was usually asleep by ten-thirty, so he couldn’t leave before that. But that still gave him an hour to drive to Cocoa and settle into position before eleven-thirty. Dawn wouldn’t be a problem, because he’d already made plans to take her to Orlando to shop for clothes at the Florida Mall right after the new tires were installed, so she’d be going to bed early tonight.

The final issue was the security system. But he had that covered too. When the technicians came to the house yesterday, they still couldn’t find anything wrong with the system. So he would take a risk tonight. He would set the alarm off around seven this evening, an intentional false alarm. He’d call it in as another malfunction before the police had a chance to respond, and would announce to Dawn and Carillo he was going to shut the system off so they wouldn’t have any more false alarms. Then he would tell them about Sheffield Security Systems in Orlando, which he’d call on Monday to order repairs.

Adam’s plan was set.

 111

SIKES GRABBED the phone from the end table beside his chair on the third ring and checked his watch. It was nine o’clock.

“Yeah,” he barked into the receiver.

“What’re you going to do now, David?” a man whispered softly.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Oh, this is someone who knows your fate.”

“Go to hell.”

“Do you know what it’s really like to die, David?”

“Who is this?”

The man unleashed a roar of laughter that rattled the earpiece. “You’ll never see it coming.” Then there was a click.

Everything went according to plan. After calling the police, Adam made the announcement about disarming the security system until he could get it fixed.

Everyone in the house seemed to know the details of his plan; both Dawn and Carillo were asleep by the times Adam predicted. All he had to do now was make his way out the back door without being heard. He checked the security panel in the laundry room one last time before leaving the house. The red light was off. Next he checked on Carillo again. He was asleep on the couch in the living room. Perfect.

After work he parked his car outside. There’d be no noise tonight from the garage door. He planned to rinse the car off when he returned and leave it outside.

He drove slowly down the driveway with the lights off, and as soon as he made it to Boca Tigre Drive, he flipped them on. It was ten thirty-three. He was on schedule.

Not one cloud could be found in the sky tonight, and the air was a cool fifty-five degrees. Adam arrived at his spot on the hillock at eleven twenty-two. He found a soft bed of damp pine needles, settled into position, and waited. The moon was bright enough for him to clearly see the back of the icehouse. No one was there yet.

Suddenly a set of headlights turned up the driveway beside the icehouse. A car crept along the narrow road leading to the back of the building. Adam turned his head from side to side, allowing his eyes to lock in on the image. It was Sikes’s Oldsmobile. Adam’s nervous stomach now turned into a full-fledged adrenaline rush. He was going to take the life of another human. But a worthless one, he thought.

Sikes turned his car around in the parking lot, backed it into a slot at the rear, turned off the headlights, and shut off the engine. He got out, ambled toward the building, and leaned on the corner with his back to Adam, apparently waiting for his guest to arrive.

As Adam lay on the bed of pine needles, he glanced around to ensure there was no one else in the area. A crackling sound came from behind him. What the hell could that be?

His heart pounded furiously, he could hear it thumping in his ears. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He noted Sikes’s position—he hadn’t moved. Adam heard nothing more. Probably a pinecone from one of the trees.

Sikes was now facing Adam but still leaning against the corner of the icehouse. He had to do it now. Adam lifted his chest slightly and steadied the gun with both hands. With his elbows firmly planted, he pulled back the hammer, snapping it into position. He took aim. Sikes shifted his body a little but was still facing Adam.

He took a deep breath and let half of it out. His index finger applied a slight amount of pressure on the trigger. The sights were locked on Sikes’s head. Adam paused for a moment to ask God for forgiveness. This is it. He had to pull the trigger and complete his mission.

His index finger tightened, and he felt the trigger pull backward toward him. The gun fired. The sound was deafening.

Sikes was still standing!

I missed! How in the hell could I miss him?

Sikes stood motionless with the exception of his head that was moving from side to side trying to determine where the shot came from. He was obviously confused.

There was another shot. But it wasn’t from Adam’s gun. Adam watched Sikes slump to the ground, his body motionless. A large section of his head was missing. Adam’s heart began to race again, and his head felt light enough that it could float away in the cool air.

What the hell was that?

Then Adam realized the shot came from behind him. He heard footsteps, the crunch of pine needles. Adam jumped to his feet and spun around. All he could see was a man silhouetted by the moon.

“Don’t panic, sonny. It’s me.”

Jesus Christ, it’s Bill! What the hell’s he doing out here?

Confusion led to disorientation, but Adam at least had enough of his faculties to know he had to do something quickly. But what? Someone had certainly heard the gun fire.

Another set of headlights were creeping up the driveway alongside the icehouse. The car parked beside Sikes’s Olds. Someone emerged from the driver’s seat; it was the girl from the bar. She walked toward the building and immediately spotted Sikes’s lifeless body sprawled out on the patch of grass at the corner of the icehouse. Without a word or a scream, she turned and raced back to her car. She never made it.

Another shot rang out from Bill’s gun, and the girl’s body dropped five feet from her car, a lifeless pool of flesh. Adam stood frozen. Time seemed to stand still.

What was Bill doing? Why did he kill the girl?

“Bill, what—what in God’s name are you doing?”

Adam took several steps backward until a large pine tree met his back and stopped his momentum.

“I’m finishing up what you couldn’t do, sonny.”

“But—but why?”

“You remember Dead River?”

“I don’t know what … what are you talking about?”

“Dead River. That’s where they found my granddaughter. Tami. Floating in the water, an alligator gnawed her leg off. It ate her goddamn leg, sonny, like a fuckin’ piece of chicken.”

“Oh God,” Adam whispered. “You’re Bill Breckenridge.”

“That’s right, sonny.” Bill pointed his gun in the direction of the icehouse. “And God damn that fucking bastard down there. He killed my granddaughter. That sorrowful piece of shit should’ve never been born. He deserved to die.”

“But what about the girl? She didn’t do anything to you.”

“Unfortunate casualty.”

“But you didn’t have to kill her, for Christ’s sake!”

“Sure I did. You’ve obviously never done this before, I mean kill someone. You see, you had the right idea wanting to kill that piece of shit down there, but I never had the confidence you could do it. It takes someone special to kill a person.”

Bill moved closer to Adam whose back was still glued to the pine tree. He was close enough now for Adam to clearly see his face.

Bill extended his left hand. “You need to give me your gun, sonny.”

 112

“WHY?” Adam asked.

“Why? So I can dispose of it.”

“Dispose of it?”

“Yes, dispose of it.”

“But I planned on getting rid of it after tonight. It doesn’t have a serial number.”

“No, no you don’t want to do that. I’ll get rid of it for you.” Bill nodded his head in the direction of the two dead bodies. “There’s a bullet down there from your gun. When the police investigate, they’ll find it. And when shit-bag’s body is finally discovered, who do you think they’ll come lookin’ for?”

Adam hesitated for a moment, basically agreeing with everything Bill was telling him so far, except for maybe the bullet scenario. “Me,” he finally said.

“That’s right, sonny, you. You’ll be the first person they’ll pay a nice friendly visit to. So you’d better let me dispose of the gun.”

“Why can’t I do it?”

“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”

Adam stood silently, staring into Bill’s eyes. Something didn’t feel right, the numbers didn’t seem to add up to the right sum.

“Look, sonny, if that bullet they find matches your gun’s ballistics and the gun is found in your possession … Do I need to paint you a picture?”

“No, but—”

“No buts, you need to give me the gun,” Bill said, motioning with his left hand.

Adam continued standing with his back against the pine tree. He could feel the tacky sap sticking to his jacket. Maybe Bill’s right. He’s a professional.

Adam handed Bill his gun.

Bill took Adam’s gun and stuffed it into his pants directly behind his belt buckle.

“We should get out of here, Bill. Someone certainly heard the gunfire.”

“I wouldn’t be too concerned about that, sonny. You see, there’s always gunfire in this shit-hole neighborhood. Everyone’s used to hearing guns at night, and during the day, for that matter. Besides, you’re not going anywhere.”

“What?” Adam asked in a puzzled tone.

Suddenly Bill raised his gun, taking aim at Adam’s head.

Adam’s knees almost buckled, but he managed to take a half-step away from the tree. “What’re you doing?”

“Don’t move another inch, sonny.”

“I thought we were friends.”

A crooked smile formed on Bill’s face, wrinkling up the scar on his cheek. “You can’t leave any witnesses, my friend, if you don’t want to get caught.”

“Please don’t shoot me. I swear I won’t tell anybody about this. Besides, why would I say anything? I’m in this thing the same as you.”

“Can’t risk it, sonny. Now turn around and lock your fingers behind your back.”

Adam made a gradual turn to his left, slowly ducking his arms behind his back. Before turning he’d mentally calculated the distance to Bill’s outstretched arm.

With a move that would make a martial arts sensei envious, Adam thrust his body back to the right. He could now see the gun in Bill’s hand, and with a lunging move, Adam’s left hand clamped down on Bill’s right wrist, forcing his arm upward.

The two hit the ground hard, with Adam on top. As soon as they landed, Bill’s left hand found Adam’s throat and clutched it with surprising force, his fingers digging deep into the soft tissue. The gun was still in Bill’s hand, pointing over top of Adam’s head. Adam mustered all of the strength that he could and shifted his body weight forward.

Bill’s right arm buckled under the pressure, turned so the gun was now pointing at his own head.

“Go ahead and do it,” Bill said, barely spitting out the words.

Adam gave one final lurch with all of his weight, and the shot went off.

It was over.

The bullet cleanly entered Bill’s right temple, and a stream of dark red blood began flowing from the neat hole in the side of his head. The other side of Bill’s head didn’t fare as well. Chunks of his skull lay on the ground beside him. In the soft moonlight Adam watched the life drain from Bill’s eyes, which faded to an inanimate stare.