Markers (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 3) (18 page)

Thirty

Secrets

There was no note atop the journal, nor were there any obvious bookmarks protruding from it; his hand moved a little closer. Once in motion there was no stopping him; he reached and picked it up. The leather felt soft, smooth, and cool to the touch. Joshua brought it to his nose to smell; it smelt old and musty. He looked at the other items he had taken from the trunk. Most were marked for Georgia; only the one was marked for him… Georgia had already given him the photo album that Vivian wanted him to have. He stacked the journal on top of it and then the small box containing the carved wooden rocking horse atop those. He placed everything else back into the trunk and closed the lid. He picked up his loot and turned to go. Georgia stood in the open doorway. He watched her eyes move to the items he held in his hand.

“There are many things in there with your name on them-the quilts were made by Mattie LaRue and her mother. Wasn’t Mattie your grandmother?”

“Yeah, she
was
. I know dey in da trunk; Miz Vivian showed ‘em to me. I can’t take a’ hold of ‘em cause dey brang da ghostes wit ‘em. I has ta be in da right frame a mind to touch ‘em, if’s you knows what I mean. What is you got dare in yo hans?” she asked, nodding her head toward the loot he held in his hands. “Is dat Miz Vivian’s diary?”

Joshua did not know what to say. He felt like a child that had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He nodded his head. “I think so,” he mumbled. “I wanted to-”

“Dat’s Miz Vivian’s secrets-” Georgia interrupted. “Her body ain’t even cold and you a diggin’ in ‘er grave. Youse ought not to ta go messin’ ‘round in other folkes secrets,
Mister Policeman
. You has enough a yo own ta worry bout widout worryin’ in other folkes. Sum-times, youse a get more’n youse asked for by doin’ dat.” Georgia’s warning did not bother Joshua-he had had dealings with the dead before. As far as he was concerned, it was living folks he had to worry about, not dead ones.

“You let me worry about the repercussions of my actions… you just said she was already gone and wasn’t going to care about anything. I want to see if there is something in here that will help me find out what happened to my mother… What about yours, Georgia, if you always lived with your grandmother and Vivian, what happened to your mother; why wasn’t she around to see about you?”

From the look on her face, he thought Georgia was going to cuss him out, but she didn’t; instead, she looked him straight in the eye and said, “She die havin’ me-it hard ta miss sumthin you ain’t never had. My Mattie Rue raised me, and she raise me right… Go on, take it and go on wid yo self… ain’t no need fer you ta come back dis way again.”

“Are you going to be all right here by yourself with-”

“I be fine. Da good Lord done give me da strength I needs; you go on now, get!” Georgia spoke with such conviction that he didn’t have any doubt that she would be fine, and come hell or high water she could deal with whatever she had to, but he still felt bad about leaving her there alone with Vivian and her dying. However, if Georgia refused his help, there was not much he could do about it. He shifted the load in his arms and offered a hand to Georgia.

“If we never meet again, I just wanted to tell you it’s been a pleasure knowing you,” Joshua spoke from the heart, and Georgia must have known it, he saw her demeanor soften. She did not reach for his hand though.

“I doan shake folkes hands, Sherf; you unnerstand don’t ya, da ghosts an stuff they carry wid ‘em always stick wid me.”

“Yeah, I understand. Goodbye, Georgia. If you ever need anything, call me.”

She did not reply, simply nodded her head and walked to the front door. She opened it and motioned him through. Once he was on the porch, she said, “Be careful, Sherf. They is plenty a bad folks out there and some of ‘em is try’in ta get back at you fer thangs you done that you had ta done. Dey doesn’t unnerstand dat… it a be soon.”

Joshua nodded his head and walked to his car. He knew she had just warned him that someone was gunning for him, but that was not anything new. He knew that Leonard and little Tom still had it out for him for killing Tom - they had made their intent perfectly clear on several occasions. Eventually he would have to deal with that, but so far, he hadn’t had any trouble out of them, but they’d only been out of jail for a few weeks since he had them locked up for trespassing and shooting at him.

He cranked up, drove out of Fort Condé Village, and then made his way to Moffett Road. He was quiet and thoughtful as he drove the familiar roads. Almost totally lost in his thoughts, he had not even put a tape in the 8-Track player or turned on the radio. As he passed the Oasis Club, a series of loud pops and yelling voices caught his attention. When he looked, he saw a large commotion going on in the parking lot. He was tempted to keep going but knew he could not do that, he had to stop. Joshua did a u-turn in the middle of Hwy 98 and flipped his blue lights on. He also grabbed the microphone to radio for assistance. The clubs had been quiet for months; they had not had any trouble out of anyone as far as he knew, but he knew the quiet streak was now over.

After coming to a screeching halt near the two lone men slugging it out in the parking lot, Joshua glanced up at the sky; he should have known it would be a full moon. It always seemed to bring out the crazy in people. Right away, he saw that one of the men was Paw Paw Donahue’s next to the oldest boy, Donnie Ray who worked the door as a bouncer. Donnie was a damned good fighter. He had been trying to get into professional boxing for a while but had lost his temper in every match he had been in so far; that was something you could not do in pro-boxing. You needed a steady hand and a cool head in the ring. Joshua figured the shots he heard was Donnie firing off a couple of rounds into the air to get them out of the club and into the parking lot so he could whup their ass.

He blew his horn long and hard to draw the attention of the fighters before opening the door to get out of his patrol car. Just as he stepped out, he felt the force of a fist slam into his back and something sharp and hot sear into his lung. When it withdrew, it took his breath with it. He tried to turn, but felt another hot searing stab to his back, this one lower, and with the force of a Mac truck; it took him down to his knees. The next blow took him completely to the ground. A vivid array of colors swirled around him. He heard people moving and talking. He heard sirens in the distance… he could feel himself drifting… his mind leaving his body behind-and as hard as he tried to stay conscious, he couldn’t. “Damn, I’m dying,” thought Joshua, oblivious to his surroundings as he slid into total and complete darkness.

Thirty-One

Cocaine

A loud wah-wah echoing through his brain and a humming sound in his ears brought Joshua to near consciousness, but he could not quite wake completely. That and then the sound of AC/DC’s song ‘Hells Bells’ blaring in his ears let him know he was alive, but he could not draw enough air into his lungs to get to his feet. Somehow, he had managed to get to his hands and knees. Suddenly, someone shoved a hand in his face and covered his nose and mouth. Whatever they held in their hand clogged his mouth and nostrils when he tried to breathe. He did not know if it was dirt or some other foreign substance, but it hampered his breath even more. Joshua felt fingers grab hold of his hair and jerk his head back. He was looking into the eyes of some bushy headed, bearded, wild-eyed man.

“I coulda killed you, you fucking Pig,” the man said, then spit into Joshua’s eyes. He placed his hand over Joshua’s mouth and nose again, and then in a very gruff voice, said, “Suck it up, pig.” Joshua tried not to, but his lungs felt completely deflated; he needed air badly. He tried to inhale, but only felt more of the dust-like material come into his mouth and nose; it instantly melted. Euphoria, sudden and intense sent lightning bolts of pleasure zipping along his brainwaves - any pain that he was experiencing suddenly disappeared; he had a feeling of complete wellbeing. He was in his rocking chair, his feet propped on the railing. Then, suddenly, the Mexican that slit Emma’s throat was standing over him grinning. Tiny demons clawing and chewing replaced the bolts of lightning zipping through his body; they seemed determined to tear him apart from the inside out. It felt like they were tearing his lungs to shreds. Once again, darkness consumed him…



A steady beeping sound slowly seeped into Joshua’s conscious; it reminded him of a heartbeat. He did not know it was his heartbeat until he heard a man’s voice ask,

“Is he gonna make it, Doc?”

Was that Hook, wondered Joshua… where was he?

“If you try and take him outta here, I swear I’ll have you locked up! Do you hear me, James Fortner?”

“Yes’sir I do… Doc, Josh and me, we friends, good friends, I would not ever jeopardize his life. Now, be straight up with me; I want the truth, how is he?”

“It’s too early to tell, Son. We will keep monitoring his heartbeat to see if the rhythm stays steady. That overdose of cocaine could have been worse on him than the stab wounds were, but probably saved his life by constricting his blood vessels. It’s as if the maniac that stabbed him knew that it would help him somehow.”
An image of the bushy haired, wild-eyed man came to Joshua’s mind and his words, ‘I coulda killed you, you fucking Pig’.
Joshua remembered the godawful searing pain that took his breath and left him lying on the ground gasping for air. He had never felt that close to death before - not even when shot by Johnny Treble.
“
You see some mighty strange stuff in the emergency rooms these days,” concluded the doctor.

“That’s for shore, Doc,” James agreed, adding, “Cookie told me the dude that stabbed Josh, was a Vietnam vet. A medic on the front line or something or the other… he must’ve been slap off his rocker.”

“War will do that to some folks, Son. We saw a lot of it after WWI and II, especially the soldiers that witnessed what went on in those concentration camps over in Germany, - but these soldiers returning from Nam - they have something worse than just ‘Shellshock’ going on in their brains. Their mental anguish is deeper; their emotional state more fragile. At first, some of ‘em can’t cope when returning to civilian life; who can blame them after being over there awhile; but then, they acclimate themselves and adjust somewhat… some, some don’t recover period. It makes you wonder just what the hell they’ve seen and gone through over there in those jungles.”

Joshua wanted to speak but couldn’t. He could not swallow; his throat was too dry and felt like someone had taken a wire brush to it.

“How’s Deputy Calvert doing? I heard that before he shot and killed that dude, he attacked him with the knife too.”

“He’s doing a lot better than the Sheriff. Your friend here has let hisself get rundown. I have been on him for years to take better care of himself. I was his father’s doctor and his father died way too young… I told Joshua when he was in here a couple of months ago, after that lightning struck him, that he needed to start taking better care of himself… he smokes too much, he drinks too much, and he could stand to gain a few pounds cause he don’t eat enough, and he don’t get enough sleep. Quite frankly, I don’t see how he ain’t done dead.”

Joshua cleared his throat. “I’m laying here listening to you two,” he mumbled.

“Damn’it Hoss, you nearly died!” James exclaimed turning toward Joshua’s bed. “You better not go and get your ass killed and leave me here to clean up your mess!”

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk, buddy. You’re a load of sunshine on a cloudy day.”

“How are you feeling, Sheriff?” asked Dr. Lightfoot.

“I’m feeling dry, Doc. Can I have something to drink?” he looked at Hook standing at the foot of the bed; he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Let me check your drainage tubes first, and then we’ll see,” Doc replied.

“Did you say that dude attacked Paul too? How is he?” Joshua asked.

“He’s doing a helluva lot better than you are,” Doc mumbled, as he raised the bed sheet back and began to turn Joshua onto his side so that he could view his back.

“You’re a friggin’ barrel of sunshine too, Doc. I just asked a simple question.” Joshua moaned as he turned onto his side - the soreness in his body felt bone deep.

“Well, I can be however the hell I want to be, I’m the doctor. Here lately, you seem hell-bent on getting yourself killed; I am just pointing it out to you again. You know, we can only patch you up so many times before your luck runs out,” Doc grumbled, as he removed a bloody bandage from Joshua’s back. He grunted several times, mumbling this and that as he examined Joshua’s wounds. “You being a Sheriff as long as you have, you ought to be seasoned well enough to know how to avoid situations like the one that landed you in here,” Doc grumbled.

“I was just doing my duty, Doc. I don’t know where the hell the dude came from.”

“Well, he took out a lung and a kidney-”

“You had to cut ‘em out...” worry crept into Joshua’s voice.

“Nah, but you were damn lucky there was a good surgeon on duty when they brought you in, or you could have lost your life! The surgeon managed to inflate your lung and stop the bleeding in both it and your kidney. Then he put these drainage tubes in. He says that as long as infection does not set in, you will make a full recovery.

James had stood quietly at the foot of the bed, but after the doctor removed the bandages, he wanted to know if he could look at Joshua wounds.

“That’s up to him,” Doc said. “Just don’t touch ‘em!”

“Go ahead and look, Hook, then you can tell me how bad it is…”

James eased around to the side of the bed and stared down at Joshua’s backside. There were three areas where the doctor removed bandages. Two of the wounds had drainage tubes protruding from them; the other was a gash about six inches long that was neatly stitched. It was just above where his belt would go.

“That one there is where the surgeon had to patch up his kidney,” the doctor informed James. “He didn’t want to go in where the puncture was - he was afraid leakage from the kidneys would seep into the body cavity - that would be pure poison to the system. The one that stabbed him, apparently shoved it in, twisted it, and then pulled up on it. The kidney took the worse damage and will take the longest to heal; the lung will pretty much seal itself as long as it’s not re-injured.”

“How bad is it, Hook?”

“It ain’t so bad, Hoss. It just looks like you was on the receiving end of a bayonet; like Doc says, it coulda been worse.”

Joshua saw the bloodied bandages the doctor had laid on a tray; they looked bad. He wondered if James and the doctor were both lying to him and it was a lot worse than what they let on it was. When he tried to take a deep breath, he began coughing, which hurt worse than trying to move on his own.

“Here,” said Doc, handing him a pillow. “When you feel a cough coming on, hug that too you as tight as you can - it’ll ease the pain. You need to cough though to keep pneumonia from settling in. I will send a nurse in here to replace the bandages… I know it’s painful, but you need to turn over every hour or so, and try to get up and walk a little too, that will also help you keep from getting pneumonia. I’ll be back later this evening to check on you, now get some rest.”

“When can I get out of here?”

“You ain’t a going anywhere anytime soon, Son, so just hold you horses. You’ll be here at least a week, maybe ten days.”

“Ten days! Damnit, Doc, I’ll go crazy.”

“Crazy’s better than dying, I reckon,” Doc said sarcastically. “I’ll instruct the nurse to give you a shot of Demerol, that’ll east the pain and help you sleep.”

“I’d rather have a shot of whiskey-”

Dr. Lightfoot stared over the rim of his glasses at Joshua. “Don’t get me started on that, Joshua Stokes. The time will pass by faster if you’re resting,” he gave James a look when he said
resting
, letting him know that he needed to leave Joshua alone and let him rest. James nodded his head.

“I’ll leave after the nurse finishes with him,” James assured the doctor, and then he turned his attention to Joshua.

“Do you need me to bring you anything from home?” he asked.

“Just make sure I got cigarettes… you could slip me a fifth of whiskey in here.”

“I could, but probably shouldn’t,” James chuckled. “You must be doing alright.”

“I’ve damn sure been better.”

“I heard that,” Doc said from the door. “Go ahead and bring it to him, James, just don’t let the nurses see it. I’d rather him have it than to go into DT’s without it.”

After Doc had closed the door behind him, James pulled up a chair beside the bed.

“Why was you stopped at the Oasis, Hoss? You don’t usually stop when doing your rounds unless there is trouble” he said, pouring a cup of water from a water pitcher by the bed and handing it to Joshua.

“I wasn’t doing rounds; I just happened to be passing by there on my way home. I heard several gunshots and saw that an altercation was going on in the parking lot…” Joshua paused trying to gather his thoughts. “James, I had some things on the front seat of my cruiser that are very important. I need to find out where they took my car and… shit!” he exclaimed, “I hate being confined, there’s so much I need to do!”

“Calm down, Hoss. Ain’t no need in you getting your bowels in an uproar - I will get ahold of Cookie and see where they took it. I’ll get your stuff out of it and bring it to you. You just remain calm-we need you-I need you to get well. You’re my compadre-”

“Yep, mine too” said Paul Calvert rolling into the room in a wheelchair. He grinned at Joshua. “I damn sure thought you was a dead duck when I rolled up in that parking lot and saw that mountain man bear hugging you with one arm, his hand over your mouth and holding a bowie knife up in his other. I started to shoot him right then, but was afraid I might hit
you
if y’all changed positions.”

“I don’t remember seeing you.”

“I told him to release you; when he didn’t, I run up and kicked him. It got him off you, but he managed to slice me open before I shot him.” Paul pulled up his shirt and Joshua and James saw a foot long bandage taped across Paul’s chest. “Thirty-five stitches,” he said with a grimace.

“Damn, that looks rough!” Hook whistled.

“It coulda been a hell of a lot worse” Calvert said, patting his bandaged chest. “It was barely deep enough to need stitches.” Joshua felt bad that Paul had been cut, but thankful he showed up when he did. “There are a lot of folks that cares about you, Sheriff,” Calvert continued. “Metcalf was down here all night waiting to see if you was a gonna pull through - he wouldn’t a left if he didn’t have to go to work. Y’all got a new murder case, late yesterday afternoon.”

“Why wasn’t I notified of it? Nobody called me…”

“We called for you on the radio, Sheriff. And Ida Mae said that she paged you a hunnert times, but you never called back.”

This was news to Joshua, and it was strange. He knew he had looked for his pager wondering if anyone had tried to get in touch with him, but at the same time appreciating that all was quiet in the county. He had his radio on even when he was inside the Blue Gill and at Carolyn’s house; he even had it on as he drove to Vivian Bradley’s and as he drove home before the happening at the Oasis. He had used it to call for backup before he got out of his patrol car in the parking lot… “Did you hear me call for backup-is that why you arrived so soon?” Joshua asked, adding, “I do remember hearing sirens sometime during the altercation… I know it was before I blacked out.”

“No, Sir. I didn’t hear a peep out of you all day yesterday,” Calvert replied. “We got a call from the manager at the Oasis about the trouble they were having. If I remember correctly, Ida Mae said the caller specifically requested they send
the sheriff
.”

“Sounds like it might’ve been a set up to me,” James chimed it.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” mumbled Joshua.