Jason Deas - Benny James 03 - Brushed Away (8 page)

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Authors: Jason Deas

Tags: #Mystery: Thriller - P.I. - Georgia

BOOK: Jason Deas - Benny James 03 - Brushed Away
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“It’s made out of auto parts,” Chief Neighbors said holding his hand in front of his face like he was shielding the sun from his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Benny asked.

“If I hold my hand like this, I can’t see the bloody finger and I won’t throw up.”

“We should put that on your re-election posters,” Benny said.

“Benny!” Vernon cautioned.

“Sorry,” Benny said. “Great technique, Chief.”

“Can we just assume there is a dead body that goes with this finger?” Vernon asked Benny.

“Definitely. Does it look like a man’s or a woman’s finger?”

Chief Neighbors held his mouth and ran into his office slamming the door behind him.

“You upset him on purpose,” Vernon said.

“Please don’t take up for him. Let’s get a closer look at this,” Benny said inching closer. “Tell me what you see,” he instructed.

“OK.” Vernon took a closer look. “I can tell by the discolored skin that the finger was removed from the body at least 24 hours ago.”

“Good,” Benny said nodding his head with approval. “What about the blood dripping down and around the finger?”

“It must have been added recently. It definitely did not come from this finger as the tissue looks dried. It seems to be a poor attempt to fool whoever they thought would find this into thinking this just happened. I would guess this happened yesterday or the day before and someone was just waiting for the right time to place this for us to find.”

“Good. I agree with everything you’ve said. Make sure we find out if the blood dripping over and around the finger matches the blood type inside the finger. I suspect it does, but if it doesn’t, we might have another new problem.”

“So where’s our clue?” Vernon asked. “How does this lead us to a body?”

“I don’t know.”

“Isn’t that what our killer wants? He wants us to find a body from this clue?”

“I think so. So, let’s look at his pattern so far—even though it is only one murder, I always assume there’s a pattern. What’s the pattern?”

“In the last murder he used numbers. He used the number four in the painting, and the body was found on site number four of the Talking Pines Campground.”

“So, if we are going by that thesis, what number do we have here?”

Vernon looked at the finger sticking into the air and it hit him. “Number one!”

“I think so,” Benny agreed. “I don’t think he would use the campground again, but we might as well check there first.”

“I believe site number one is actually visible from the check-in station, so I highly doubt the body will be there, but I’ll send a deputy by to check it out.”

“What else has the number one attached to it around here?”

“Well, none of the roads do besides the mile markers.”

“Put that on the list for the deputies to check.”

“Is there an address in town you can think of that has a one in it that might stand out?”

“No. I think everything starts at one hundred and goes up from there. The slips at your marina are numbered, aren’t they?”

Benny’s face fell. “I’m number one.”

“I think you would have noticed a dead body when you left this morning.”

“This nasty bastard could have moved it to my boat since then.”

“I didn’t get the feeling that this was anything personal against you, did you?”

“No, but I
have
put a lot of people in prison and somebody could be looking for revenge.”

“Possible,” Vernon said. “I just don’t get that feeling. Why don’t you go check it out real quick while I take care of this crime scene.”

“That would make me feel better.”

“On your way back, will you swing by the One Stop and pick up a Dr. Pepper for me?”

Benny was already headed for the door and jerked his head back.

“That’s it!”

“What?”

“Think about what you just said.”

Vernon thought. “The One Stop!”

“It has to be. Think about the sign.”

“You’re right. It has a hand with one finger pointing in the air next to the words.”

As Benny ran out the door, Vernon called, “I still want a Dr. Pepper!”

 

The One Stop was a fairly seedy establishment with a revolving door of employees. It had all your gas station essentials plus a few extras. Benny felt certain the slot machines in the back room were illegal. He also marveled at the wide selection of adult magazines offered behind the counter and the glass case displaying water bongs and pipes in plain view accompanied by a sign that read, “For Tobacco Use Only.” The inside of the station always smelled like cigarette smoke and incense.

Unfortunately for Benny, it was the closest store to the Sleepy Cove Marina and sometimes out of necessity he had to stop in and buy something. The employees always gave him the creeps, and he oftentimes wondered where the owner found them. The average employee lasted about four months before they quit because of burnout and the long hours or were fired for stealing or some other impropriety.

Benny entered the store to find a new face behind the counter, and he immediately sized him up as an alcoholic or drug user. The clerk was an older man with wispy gray hair and a beard which had not been cut or trimmed in quite some time. He had the look of someone who didn’t want to look completely disheveled, but still did. As Benny neared he smelled strong body odor mixed with stale cigarette smoke and cheap cologne. Benny gave him his best fake smile. When the clerk returned it with a fake one of his own he spotted a mouth full of yellow and at least two missing teeth.

“How you doing this afternoon?” Benny asked.

The clerk coughed up some phlegm and cleared his throat as he muttered, “Hanging.”

“Hanging,” Benny repeated. “Like hanging in there?”

“Yeah. You being smart with me?”

“No. I just wasn’t too sure what you meant.”

“What do you need?”

“I need to take a look around,” Benny said watching his eyes.

“What are you looking for?”

“I’ll know it when I see it.”

The clerk’s eyes twitched, and he studied Benny as if he had just woken up from a deep sleep.

“Well, look on then,” he said as his hands started to fidget. He scratched his face nervously and pulled a pack of Camel’s out of his dirty shirt pocket. With a trembling hand he put one in his mouth and lit it.

“I’ve been around the block a time or two,” the clerk told Benny.

“I can tell.”

“And I can tell you’re the law.”

Benny flashed him his credentials.

“Oh, Jesus.”

“Calm down,” Benny said holding out his hand.

“I don’t know anything about the video slots and poker machines in the back. If the customers win, they have to come back when the boss is here for the payout. I swear. And the pipes and bongs, I know people buy them to smoke grass, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I’m not here about anything like that. I just want to ask you a few questions.”

“OK.”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Not even a week, man.”

“How many days?”

“Five.”

“Have you noticed anything strange or out of the ordinary?”

“Oh yeah.”

“What?”

“This guy came in this morning at 6:30 and bought coffee, Crisco, and a copy of Super Jugs,” he said pointing over his shoulder to the adult magazines behind him.

“That is a little strange,” Benny agreed. Anything else?”

“Yeah,” the clerk said stubbing out his cigarette and lighting another one. “A girl came in yesterday and bought a whole roll of lottery tickets and paid with all one dollar bills. She also bought a lollipop. Green.”

Benny nodded his head. “Again, strange, but not exactly what I was looking for.”

“I can go on for days and I have only worked here for six days.”

“I thought you said five days before?”

“Yeah. Five. They all run together, man.”

“Is it OK if I look around now? You’re not in any trouble. I’m working on a case that has nothing to do with the day to day operations of this gas station. I just think the person I’m looking for might have come by here and left something.”

“Why didn’t you just say that man?”

“I don’t know,” Benny answered. “I don’t know.”

Benny turned and walked toward the soda cooler to get Vernon’s Dr. Pepper before he forgot. As he neared the cooler, the room opened up and a soda display filled the open area. Twelve-packs of soda were stacked at least six feet high in a rainbow shape around the biggest cooler Benny had ever seen. Taped to the wall of twelve pack containers was a handwritten sign that read, “It’s the One.”

Benny’s heart began racing. “What’s this?” he yelled to the front of the store. “Get back here!”

The clerk hustled to the back with a cigarette flapping between his lips.

“It’s a soda display, man.”

“What’s with the slogan and the giant cooler?”

“You drink it and it cools you down. That’s what the commercials say. Don’t you watch television man?”

“Not much,” Benny admitted.

“I guess there’s a contest to win the cooler or something. I don’t really know anything about that,” the clerk said.

“Did you see the person who set this up?”

“Yeah, man. Some fat guy. He had a real hard time. I thought he was going to pass out and die here on the floor. He was sweating like a whore in church.”

“Nice,” Benny said. “Have you ever seen a cooler this big?”

“No. Kind of ridiculous if you ask me.”

“Mind if I look inside?”

“Be my guest.”

Benny held his breath and lifted the top of the cooler. As he suspected, inside was a body, minus a finger, curled in the fetal position. Ice covered the body and had melted to a thin layer revealing the contents underneath.

“Jesus Christ!” the clerk screamed as he tripped backwards and fell on his back. “I… I…” He began shaking and pulled himself off the floor and sprinted to one of the coolers containing beer and cheap wine. He opened the cooler door and yanked out a bottle of Night Train, unscrewed the top, and drank the entire bottle in one tilt.

Benny watched in amazement. “Feel better?” he asked when the clerk lowered the bottle.

“I will in a minute. Maybe I’ll sip on one more while we wait for the cops.”

“Good idea.” Benny pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and called Vernon. Vernon answered on the first ring. “I’ve got your Dr. Pepper here and a dead body.”

“My God. All right. The guys are almost finished taking pictures here and collecting. I’ll tell them to head on over when they’re finished here. I think they can wrap the rest up without me and I’ll be right over.”

“I’ll put your soda back in so it’ll be cold for you.”

“Thanks.”

 

Vernon breezed through the door less than ten minutes later and rushed to the back of the station. He stopped in front of the opened cooler and peered inside.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s a game. Somebody’s messing with us.”

“Why?”

Benny shrugged his shoulders.

“Is the guy sipping on the bottle of Night Train the clerk?”

“Yeah.” Benny got Vernon up to speed on the situation.

Vernon shook his head and called the clerk over. “I still have the picture of our first vic,” he said to Benny as he pulled the photo out of his breast pocket.

The clerk put the finishing touches on the second bottle of Night Train and wiped his mouth. Vernon held the picture of victim number one in front of his face.

“Ever seen this guy?”

“That’s the guy who delivered all the twelve-packs and set up the display with the cooler.”

“Thanks,” Vernon said putting the picture away. “Why don’t you take a couple more of those bottles home with you since you seem to like them so much and we’ll come see you tomorrow for a formal statement.”

“Like free?”

“Free. Just leave me your address and phone number.”

“OK. But I don’t have a phone number.”

“No problem. Just the address will be fine.”

The clerked scuttled off.

“So,” Vernon said turning his focus back on Benny, “the fat guy delivers a dead body in a cooler to the gas station and then gets offed. Who’s behind this?”

“I would think somebody put him up to it.”

“Do you think he knew what was in the cooler?”

“I’m thinking he did.” Vernon looked at the cooler. “It doesn’t have a lock on it or anything to keep it sealed. Any normal person would look inside to see why it was so heavy. Natural instinct.”

“Maybe the ice completely covered the body when it was delivered.”

“Could be.”

“Or, the fat guy killed the guy in the cooler and then somebody killed him.”

“No, I don’t get that feeling. Do you? Back in the day, did you ever work off  a feeling?”

“Yeah, I worked off feelings and then I tried to back those feelings up with facts. If your facts don’t match your feelings—you know something is wrong. And yes, I get the feeling that we’re just going to be looking for one killer.”

“What do you know about the fat guy? What would motivate him to do somebody’s dirty work like this. Money? A woman?”

“I’m gonna have to go with a woman on this one. Dumping a body inside a gas station among a display of twelve-packs is crazy. Money can make people do some crazy things, but this is woman crazy thinking right here.”

“I agree. The crew is here,” Vernon said glancing over his shoulder at the noise behind him.

“Speaking of women, I’m going to head on over and talk to Nina Oglethorpe. I want to ask her permission to talk to Uncle Karl’s doctor. I still need to rule him out in case what we’re dealing with here is not caused by woman-crazy or money-crazy but just crazy-crazy.”

 

Chapter 10

 

Nina was sitting on her front porch. Benny was thankful he didn’t have to go back into her studio again. She recognized his Jeep coming down the drive and began combing her hair with her fingers. She quickly stood and glanced at her reflection in one of the windows and sat back down. Benny noticed and smiled.

“Taking a break from your work?” Benny asked, climbing out of the car.

“Yes. I was working on some new techniques and mixed a few things together that I shouldn’t have. I almost passed out in there.”

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