Confession by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

Chapter 7

A Killer’s Tale story continued.

Two years passed, and it was 1956. Jimmy still loved being a deputy with the Boldger Police Department and loved having power over people. A lot has happened during these past two years.

Jimmy would still arrest Nancy during one of her drunken spells and fuck her back in one of the jail cells. Sometimes, she wanted sex, and sometimes, Jimmy forced himself on her. She knew she couldn’t say anything and tolerated his forcefulness.

Melvin also talked Jimmy into becoming a KKK member, and he loved how the colored folk feared this organization.

It was August of 1956, and Jimmy found a new hobby while patrolling the streets of Boldger late at night.

It started on August 11th and was a hot and steamy Friday night. The night sky was full of twinkling stars and a full Moon.

Jimmy did his usual patrol around town every two hours.

It was eleven at night, and he decided to check out the clearing down by the lake. He loved peeking in car windows at the lake. Especially when it scared the crap out of the teenage lovers. Jimmy figured that if he didn’t get a chance to get laid down by the lake, why would any other teen do so?

Jimmy drove his squad car out of town and headed down Route 123.

He made the left turn down the dirt road that led to the clearing by the lake.

When he got close to the clearing, he turned off his headlights. He drove his car slowly into the clearing and saw a black 1950 Ford pickup truck parked there with the front end pointed at the lake.

Jimmy turned off his car engine and could see a lone person behind the wheel of the pickup truck.

He quietly opened his car door and stepped outside, then quietly closed his door.

Jimmy had a smirk while he tiptoed over to the pickup.

He got to the driver’s door of the pickup and looked in the window. He saw a black hair girl giving Alvin Cooper, a white boy, a blowjob. It took Jimmy a few seconds to realize that that young black-haired girl colored girl was Lizzy Sharp.

He tapped on the driver’s door window.

Alvin glanced over at his window with a smile. He stared at Jimmy for a few seconds, and it dawned on him that Deputy Nalla was peeking at him. “Shit!” yelled out Alvin from inside in a panic from inside the truck. Alvin pushed the head of the colored girl off of his erection and quickly turned soft while he looked over at Jimmy.

The colored girl looked bewildered as to why Alvin pushed her away. Then she looked over at Alvin and saw Jimmy standing outside the pickup. She got scared, as she always feared Jimmy, knowing he was part of the Klan.

Jimmy stared at the two and got an idea. “I want the colored girl out of the truck,” he ordered.

The colored girl scooted across the seat of the truck, opened the door, and got outside.

“Go home, Alvin, and I won’t tell your daddy about this. You know he’ll beat your ass raw if he finds out,” said Jimmy.

Alvin nodded, said he agreed with Jimmy, and started his pickup.

Jimmy and the colored girl moved away while Alvin backed up his pickup. They watched him drive away out of the clearing and head down the dirt road.

Jimmy looked at the colored girl in the darkness of the lake. “Now, what will I do with you, Lizzy?”

“Please don’t tell my paw,” she said with pleading eyes that looked scared.

Jimmy looked at Lizzy, who was barefooted and wore a worn white flowery dress to her knobby knees. “I know your paw will beat you for sucking a white guy’s cock,” he reminded her.

Lizzy’s eyes welled up, and they knew Jimmy was correct. “Please don’t tell my paw, please.”

Jimmy looked at Lizzy and knew he had her right where he wanted her. “Come with me, Lizzy,” he said, motioning for her to approach him.

Lizzy reluctantly approached Jimmy, knowing he would take her to his paw and tell him what she had done.

Jimmy grabbed Lizzy’s left arm and walked her over to the rear of his car.

He bent her over to where the right side of her face was pressed on the car trunk. He leaned down and moved her feet apart, then lifted up her dress and exposed her backside. He noticed in the Moonlight that Lizzy didn’t wear any panties while he unbuckled his belt.

Lizzy knew what Jimmy wanted, but she wasn’t willing to participate. “I don’t know about this, Mista Jimmy.”

“If you don’t, I’ll tell your paw,” said Jimmy as he unzipped his trousers and lowered them to his ankles.

Lizzy knew she didn’t have a choice, as getting the belt on her ass cheeks by her paw was not an option. So she just stayed in place and waited.

Jimmy pulled down his boxers and was ready.

He moved closer to Lizzy, and after a few seconds of getting Lizzy primed, he penetrated her and started humping her.

Lizzy was relieved that this only lasted two minutes.

After Jimmy had redressed himself, he placed Lizzy in the backseat of his squad car. He got behind the wheel, started the car, and drove out of the clearing with a smile.

Jimmy drove back into town and stopped on the street by the edge of the colored section. He looked back at the backseat. “Okay, Lizzy, I won’t tell your paw, and what we did tonight will be our secret.”

“Yes, Mista Jimmy,” said Lizzy, and she felt a bit relieved that her paw wouldn’t find out.

“And Lizzy, you will do me whenever I want. Understand? You know what I can do.”

“Yes, Mista Jimmy.”

“Good, now go home.”

Lizzy opened the rear door, got outside, closed the door, and ran off down the street.

Jimmy drove away while he lit a Lucky Strike.

The months had passed, and it was now the Spring of 1957.

Jimmy spent the last year having occasional nighttime meetings with Lizzy. Sometimes he would take her down to the lake in the middle of the night and screw her in the backseat, or other times he would have her give him a blowjob while he parked along a street in Boldger.

But while he had sex with her, he often thought about that dead-colored girl in the woods when he was twelve years old. He even started thinking about taking Lizzy out to that same spot and beating her to death. But he fought back those urges.

It was the spring of 1956. Robert Fillert had completed the FBI Academy in Quantico, Virginia. He started his first assignment in the Atlanta field Office. He had already made his first arrest of three bank robbers who had targeted banks in Georgia, Tennessee, and Alabama.

It was August of 1957, and during this hot and humid month, Jimmy got another taste of killing another human being.

It apparently happened during Friday night on August 10th. Sixteen-year-old Emily Mochrie came home at ten that night crying. When her father, Gus Mochrie, asked what happened, Emily said an unknown guy that wore a black ski mask raped her while she was walking home from her girlfriend, Amy’s home. He came up behind her and forced her way, penetrating her from the rear. She only saw the back of his head when he ran away.

On Saturday morning, Jimmy’s brother Ricky told Jimmy that he saw a colored man named Howard Williams running down the street and removing a black ski mask off his head. Jimmy, of course, told Sheriff Damon.

This was an open and shut case as far as Sheriff Damon was concerned, so he summoned the boys.

Later that night, at ten, Sheriff Damon, Melvin, Jimmy, Rick, Sam, John, Carl, and Max met at Melvin’s home.

“We can’t have these uppity colored scum raping our young women,” said Melvin, furious over the situation.

“I agree,” said Rick.

“Me too,” said Jimmy.

Sam, John, Carl, and Max all nodded in agreement. “Then we have to take care of this situation to send a message to the rest of the colored folk,” said Sheriff Damon.

“Then we know what needs to be done,” said Melvin.

“Yep, we don’t have a choice,” said Sam.

“Poor Emily. Raped by some colored piece of shit,” said Carl and was furious.

“We will justice get served?” asked Max.

Sheriff Damon looked at Melvin. “Tomorrow night. We can’t take a chance on him leaving town,” said Melvin, then he looked at Jimmy. Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Jimmy replied and couldn’t wait.

“We meet at the church at ten tomorrow night,” said Sheriff Damon.

Everybody nodded in agreement, and then Melvin pulled out eight cans of Black Label beer from his refrigerator and handed each of the guys a can of cold beer.

It was Sunday night, and the town of Boldger was quiet.

A 1952 Dodge Cornet with four occupants inside and a 1951 Chevrolet Fleetline Deluxe with two occupants inside pulled into the parking lot of the First Baptist Church of Boldger. Both cars had Mississippi license plates.

Ricky, Sammy, Sheriff Damon, and Melvin got out of the Dodge dressed in their KKK glory suits with their hoods removed.

Jimmy, Carl, John, and Max got out of the Chevrolet dressed in their KKK glory suits with their hoods removed.

They gathered before the Dodge, and Sheriff Damon looked the guys over for a few seconds. “Let’s go get some justice,” he said, then placed his hood on his face.

All the other guys nodded in agreement and then placed their hoods over their heads.

The eight Klansmen returned in the two cars and drove out of the parking lot.

A little while later, the Dodge and Chevrolet raced down one of the dirt roads in the colored section of town.

They stopped in the weedy front yard of the Williams shack.

The eight Klansmen rushed out of the two cars and headed to the front porch of the Williams shack.

“Get your ass out here, Howard Williams,” Sheriff Damon ordered from behind his hood.

The eight guys waited for a few seconds, then the shack’s front door opened, and Howard Willia, a fifty-two-year-old man in a white T-shirt and bo, appeared at the door. His eyes widened with fear when he saw the eight Klansmen on his porch in their glory suits. Howard knew they were not here for coffee and social talk, so he panicked, turned around, and ran through his living room.

“Cover the back,” Sheriff Damon told John and Sam.

John and Sam ran off the back porch to the shack’s rear.

Sheriff Damon and the rest ran inside the house.

John and Sam ran to the back of the shack; the second, Howard ran out of the back screen door.

John tackled Howard to the ground.

“I did nothing,” cried Howard while John pressed the left side of his face into the dirt.

“You’re a fucking liar, Howard,” John yelled while he got off Howard and brought him to his feet.

Three minutes had passed, and Howard, still in his tee shirt and underwear, was in the backseat of the Chevrolet, sitting between Jimmy and Max.

Howard was scared to death while the car drove down his street. “I didn’t do nothing,” he said.

“Don’t you lie to us,” said Jimmy. “We know what you fucking did. You raped young Emily Mochrie on Friday night,” he added.

“I didn’t rape any white girl. I promise,” said Howard, and he was dead serious.

Jimmy elbowed Howard in his face. “Fucking

liar. We hate you colored folk when you lie all the time.” Howard remained quiet, knowing that any more talk would get another elbow or, possibly, a fist.

While the Dodge and Chevrolet drove off down the street, Howard’s wife, Anita, and ten-year-old daughter, Molly, watched from the front porch of their shack.

Anita’s eyes welled up, and she knew Howard would not be coming home. This was a familiar sight in the Deep South during these times. And the colored folk had nobody to complain to who would listen and stop this activity.

Five minutes passed, and the Dodge and Chevrolet drove to a secluded area of the woods east of Boldger. They stopped with the headlights illuminating a large oak tree with a thick horizontal branch to the left of the trunk. A noose was installed on that branch earlier this evening. Below the noose was a small wooden stool.

Everybody got out of the Dodge.

Carl and John got out of the front of the Chevrolet. Jimmy and Max got out and dragged a reluctant Howard with them.

“Please let me go. I swear I didn’t rape that white girl. I swear!” Howard pleaded with Jimmy and Max.

“Shut the fuck up and take your punishment like a man,” said Sheriff Damon while he walked over to Howard.

Jimmy and Max escorted Howard, still dragging his feet in the dirt.

“Please let me go!” cried Howard as they walked him over to that tree branch.

The Klansmen ignored Howard while Jimmy and Max escorted Howard to his fate.

Howard starts to squirm when Jimmy and Max get within two feet of the wooden stool.

Howard used all his might and squirmed free from Jimmy and Max’s grip. He ran.

“Get him!” yelled Sheriff Damon.

John and Carl ran after Howard.

John lunged and tackled Howard to the ground. Jimmy ran over.

John and Carl brought Howard to his feet. Jimmy punched Howard hard in his stomach. He buckled over in pain, gasping for air.

“Let’s get this over with,” yelled Sheriff Damon.

John and Carl brought Howard, with his feet dragging in the dirt, back over to the noose.

With Jimmy, Max, and Carl, pMax helped Howard on the stool under the dangling noose.

Jimmy got on the other stool and placed the noose around Howard’s neck.

“Please! I swear. I didn’t rape that girl. I swear to God!” cried Howard, his eyes welled up.

“We hope God forgives you,” yelled Melvin. It’s time,” called Sheriff Damon.

Jimmy tightened the noose around Howard’s neck. Jimmy got off his stool and immediately kicked out the stool from under Howard’s feet.

Howard dropped, and everybody heard his neck snap.

They watched Howard’s lifeless body swing from the noose.

“I need a beer,” said Max.

“Me too,” added Carl.

The Klansmen removed their hoods and headed back to the cars.

While Jimmy got back in the Chevrolet, he glanced back at Howard’s lifeless body dangling from that tree branch. Although he enjoyed tonight, he wanted something else. He wanted a woman.

Everybody got in the Dodge and Chevrolet and drove away.

Back at the Melvin home, Ricky lay in bed with a huge smile. He was elated that Howard Williams got hung for the rape he actually committed. He turned his thoughts to Emily. He really liked her and couldn’t stop his urges to have sex with her. It was something about forcing himself on her that turned him on.

The weeks rolled around, and it was the end of July.

Jimmy went into Woolworths for supper on Thursday night during his night shift. For some reason, he decided on Woolworths and broke his regular routine.

He walked over to the counter and sat down on a stool.

He looked at the other end of the counter and saw someone he never saw before. “We have a new waitress,” Jimmy said quietly while he looked at the new female. She was nineteen, with black hair, a thin, shapely figure, and a small chest. Jimmy liked what he saw so far.

The new waitress walked over to Jimmy once she noticed he was there.

“Welcome. How may I help you, deputy?” asked Betty Harris.

“First of all, you can tell me your name.”

“Betty,” she said while pointing at the name tag on her uniform. “Betty Harris.”

“Well, Betty Harris. I’m Deputy Jimmy Nalla. I don’t recognize you as being from Boldger.”

“I moved here last week. I’m from Jackson, Mississippi. I moved here to live with my Aunt and Uncle. Bob and Cindy Harris.”

Jimmy thought for a few seconds. “Ah, yes, I know them. Good folk,” he said while he checked her out. “Why leave Jackson for our sleepy little town?”

“Abusive boyfriend wouldn’t stop beating me.”

“Well, fear not, my darling. If he sets foot in Boldger and lays a hand on you, I’ll save you.” Betty smiled and liked Jimmy’s charm. “Well, thank you, and I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “Now, how may I help you tonight?”

“Oh, how about the country-fried steak dinner.”

“Coming right up,” she said, walked away.

Jimmy’s eyes were on Betty’s backside while she returned to the window to give the cook Jimmy’s order.

Jimmy was keenly interested in Betty, and after his dinner, he couldn’t take his eyes off her while he ate.

For the next week, Jimmy continued to eat his supper at Woolworths. He usually ate dinner at Wally’s Country Diner on the south side of town. But he wanted to eat all his dinners at Woolworths to see more of Betty.

Then, one night, Jimmy finally got up to ask Betty for a date. She gladly accepted as Jimmy’s charm was refreshing, unlike that of her abusive boyfriend, Willard.

It was the first Saturday of October, and there was another wedding in Boldger. Today, numerous town folk packed the First Baptist Church of Boldger to watch Jimmy Nalla and Betty Harris’s holy matrimony. Ricky was Jimmy’s best man.

For their honeymoon, Sheriff Damon gave Jimmy a week off with pay. Melvin was also generous and gave the young couple a used Buckskin Tan and Snow Show White 1955 four-door Ford.

The young honeymooners drove their new car down to Winter Haven to visit Cypress Gardens. Betty had dreamed of visiting this place when she was a little girl. She had always wanted to see the water ski shows, the beautiful gardens, and the Southern Belles.

Jimmy wasn’t that impressed with the activities Cypress Gardens had to offer, it was the sex with Betty that he wanted every night.

So, since Jimmy is a married man, he decides to stop seeing Lizzy for his nighttime pleasures.

The months rolled around, and it was March 1958.

Sad news occurred for the white folk of Boldger. Sixty-five Sheriff Damon had a heart attack in the middle of the night while he slept in bed.

But the colored folk of Boldger were not heartbroken over the loss of Sheriff Boldger. He was the leader behind so many lynchings by rope for the colored folk since he became Sheriff in 1926. But they realized that the replacement Sheriff probably would be just as evil as Nate Damon. They were right. With Melvin’s influence, Jimmy became the Sheriff of Boldger. The voting was rigged.

As soon as he took over the department, he hired Alvin Cooper as his new deputy. He figured he owed Alvin since he didn’t tell anybody that he left Lizzy alone with Jimmy that night at the lake in 1956.

Jimmy felt so powerful now that he was the law of Boldger.

1959 arrived, and Jimmy continued abusing his powers as Sheriff. He would not think twice about beating up an uppity colored man when he talked back to any of the white folk. But he stayed away from screwing Lizzy since he was married. He loved being married to Betty, and they tried every chance they could get to have a child. Jimmy yearned to have a son he could call Jimmy Junior. Betty wanted a daughter.

The year 1960 arrived, and Jimmy’s life started to change. It wasn’t as grand as it was last year. For starters, Betty still wasn’t pregnant, and it looked hopeless. But they always tried.

On the night of June 21st, Jimmy returned to his old ways. He spotted Lizzy walking down the street late at night.

At first, Lizzy didn’t want to have sex with Jimmy anymore. But Jimmy reminded him that he was the Sheriff and had the power to have her daddy see the end of a rope.

Even though Lizzy wasn’t fond of her father, she didn’t want him killed because of something she did.

So Lizzy got in Jimmy’s car, and he drove her out to the clearing by the lake.

Jimmy had Lizzy in the backseat, and she straddled over his crotch. He missed the feeling of being inside her.

To Jimmy’s surprise, Lizzy suddenly left town five months later. Jimmy didn’t know that he got Lizzy pregnant that night down at the lake. Her father was furious when she confessed that Sheriff Nalla got her knocked up. Feeling scared he would hang from the end of a rope, he sent Lizzy to live with his sister in Mobile.

Another happy event happened in late June. Nineteen-year-old Ricky married nineteen-year-old Emily Mochrie. She never suspected that it was Ricky that raped her that night. Never. She fully believed that Howard Williams raped her, and justice was served. She was satisfied and put that memory behind her.

During their honeymoon in Biloxi, Mississippi, Ricky won best behavior. He had urges to be rough with her in bed but fought them off.

The rest of 1960 was still the same for Jimmy. He always had the urge to rape the young colored girls of the town.

One recent conquest was with Nelly Winston.

He drove her off to the lake late one night and had her naked against the hood of her car.

After he was done, he threatened Nelly that if she told anybody, he would make sure her father would see the end of a rope.

Nelly kept her mouth shut.

This year also brought on moments where he would yell at Betty and give her an occasional slap across her face. Betty didn’t believe in divorce or leaving her husband, so she put up with it. After all, her father would often slap her mother from time to time.

But 1960 was an eventful year for FBI Agent Robert Fillert. He made five more arrests, and with his record, his head started to swell, and he had a hint of a strut in his walk. Some other Agents began to notice and talk about Robert behind his back. It was not a favorable talk.

Nineteen sixty-one rolled around, and things started to pick up for Jimmy. But his relationship with Betty started to get rocky. His desire to have sex with her began to become less and less frequent. He had other attractions he wanted to fulfill and couldn’t fight them off.

It was a steamy month of June, and Jimmy had the urge to abuse his power again.

It was one that afternoon on a Wednesday in the middle of June. Jimmy patrolled the streets with his 1960 Ford Galaxy white and black squad car. He wore the standard Khaki shirt and pants as his uniform for the Sheriff of Boldger.

On the passenger seat of his car was his new Tower 32A 35mm camera that he bought four months ago from the Sears store in a nearby town. He used his camera to take some extraordinary photographs of the young colored girls around down. He first used it on Nelly Winston right after he bought the camera.

He drove out to the woods, snapped some naked pictures of the young girl, and then forced himself on her.

He again threatened that if she told anybody, her father would see the end of a rope.

She kept her mouth shut.

He had one more to take, and then he could try his skills to develop them.

He drove near the outskirts of the colored section of town on Addison Avenue.

He spotted someone walking alone. “Perfect,” he said when he saw colored girl Melissa Washington walking alone in a faded white dress and bare feet.

He pulled into the left lane of the street and stopped by Melissa.

She stopped and looked nervous. Jimmy pulled up by her side.

“Melissa. What are you doing walking all alone in this heat?”

“I was bored, Sheriff Jimmy.”

Jimmy looked at her. “You know, you’re growing into a nice woman,” he said.

Melissa smiled. “Thank you, Sheriff Jimmy,” she said, thinking his lovely comment would mean he wouldn’t arrest her on some trumped-up charges.

Jimmy looked around and didn’t see anybody within eyesight. He glanced at his camera on his car seat. He looked back at Melissa and leaned out his door window. “I tell you what. If you want to earn some money, I bought this new camera. I would love to take some pictures of you.”

“Money?” Melissa said, and her eyes widened a little. She thought getting money would be nice since her parents were dirt poor.

“Yeah, I’ll pay you ten dollars if you let me take some pictures of you.”

The sound of ten dollars of easy cash overrode Melissa’s better judgment. “Yes, Sheriff Jimmy.”

“Get in,” he said, motioning for her to ride in the front seat with him.

Melissa rushed around the front of his car and got in the front passenger seat.

Jimmy drove away down the street and headed out of town with Melissa.

Ten minutes had passed, and Jimmy drove his squad car to a secluded area of the woods accessible by a dirt road. The local hunters often used this area for hunting for the sport of killing animals.

Jimmy parked his car. He reached behind and removed his wallet from his back pocket.

He opened it up and removed a ten-dollar bill.

He set the bill on the seat. “You can have this when we’re done,” he said while he looked at Melissa.

“Yes, Sheriff Jimmy.”

“Let’s go outside,” he said, then grabbed his camera and opened his car door.

Melissa opened up her door, and they both stepped outside.

Jimmy walked over to a spot away from his car.

He looked around the woods. “It sure is hot out today, ain’t it, Melissa?”

“Sure is, Sheriff Jimmy,” she replied, standing five feet from him, not knowing what to do next.

Jimmy looked at Melissa and then at his camera. Melissa looked at Jimmy and wondered what pictures of her he wanted to take.

“Take off all of your clothes,” Jimmy said while removing the cap from the camera lens.

“I don’t know, Sheriff Jimmy,” she said, regretting getting inside his car.

“Now, now, Melissa. You know what will happen if you obey me?” he said, looking dead serious.

Melissa knew all too well the wrath of crossing Jimmy. “Yes, Sheriff Jimmy,” she said, then fidgeted with her dress.

“Okay, now take your fucking dress off,” he said with a louder, more stern voice.

Melissa got nervous, as she’d never been naked in front of a man in her life. She grabbed her dress and pulled it over her head. She let it drop into the dirt.

Jimmy saw that she didn’t wear a bra and the sight of her perky A-cup tits was a turn-on. “Remove your panties,” he said, then he looked through his camera and had it aimed at Melissa.

Melissa grabbed the waistband of her panties, slid them down her legs, and stepped out of them. She started to cover her tits and crotch with her arms and hands.

“Now, now, Melissa. Don’t be shy,” he said while he looked through the camera at Melissa.

Melissa removed her hands and arms away and showed Jimmy the naked front of her body.

Jimmy smiled while he snapped a picture of Melissa.

He moved the camera away from his face. He liked the sight of this young colored girl standing naked before his eyes. He got an erection in his pants.

Melissa didn’t like the perverted look in Jimmy’s eyes. “Is that all, Sheriff Jimmy?”

Jimmy started to unbutton his shirt. “No, Melissa, that’s not all,” he smirked.

Melissa started to shake. She knew what Jimmy wanted and was scared to death to refuse.

Within a few seconds, Jimmy was bare-ass naked and stood by his pile of clothes and a camera in the dirt.

Jimmy had fucked Melissa while he had her bent over the trunk of his squad car. When he was done, less than two minutes later, he pushed her away, and she fell on her butt in the dirt.

“Now Melissa, you know what will happen if you tell anybody?” he said while he walked over and towered over her naked body.

Melissa just looked down at the dirt.

“Yes, Sheriff Jimmy. I know,” she said and shook in fear. Jimmy towered over Melissa while he put on his pants.

“Now Melissa, if you don’t cooperate, I’ll make sure your daddy gets hung. Do you understand?”

Melissa stared down at the ground while she nodded in agreement. That pissed Jimmy off, so he picked her up by her hair.

“Ahhh!” she cried out in pain while Jimmy brought her to her feet. She started to sob.

“Didn’t your momma teach you any fucking manners?” You’re supposed to answer your elders,” he yelled at her.

“Yes, Sheriff Jimmy. I’m sorry,” she replied between sobs.

“You will cooperate. Won’t you?” he snarled. “Yes sir,” she replied between sobs.

Jimmy threw her back on the ground, where she sobbed.

Jimmy put on his shirt and then walked back to his squad car. He got inside and removed a camera from the glove box.

He stepped back outside his car and snapped pictures of Melissa the second she stood up. Then, smiling at the thought of having a naked picture of his conquest, he got back inside the car and started it up.

He drove down the dirt road and left Melissa to sob alone in the woods.

Jimmy drove back to his office, where he got a cup of coffee and sat behind his desk.

He opened his top desk drawer and removed his latest issue of True Detective magazine. He opened it again and picked up where he left off yesterday. He removed his pack of Lucky Strikes from the top of his desk and lit a cigarette.

He took a drag on his Lucky Strike and smiled while exhaling, thinking about his conquest with Melissa.

Back in the woods, Melissa started her long trek back home on foot.

Later that night, Jimmy worked in his garage, which had a dark room for developing pictures. He had bought this dark room four months ago and wanted to start photography as a hobby.

He opened his camera and started following his instructions on developing the film.

Jimmy surprised himself and did a great job of developing the twelve pictures. He glanced at the twelve photos he had taken of Melissa, Nelly, and ten other colored girls over the past four months.

After the pictures were developed, he locked them in a small metal box under the developing table.

He left his darkroom and locked the door. His wife Betty knew she was not allowed in there because he claimed it contained secured confidential police information. She knew a beating would happen if she questioned him.

July rolled around.

Rumors spread throughout Boldger about colored girls being raped, and the colored community was getting upset. The problem was that none of the girls would identify the sick individual.

One colored man was getting pissed with the stories of the young girls being raped. He was forty-five-year-old Lester Winston, and his daughter Nelly finally confessed to Lester that Sheriff Nalla raped her numerous times. Lester got madder and madder the more he thought about Sheriff Nalla getting away with rape.

Then one Saturday night, Lester was drunk and ranted off about wanting to kill Sheriff Nalla for raping the young colored girls.

Word of Lester’s rant about Sheriff Nalla spread throughout the colored community.

A tattletale-scared colored man named Wally Brown told Sheriff Nalla one night about Lester’s rant. Wally figured by telling on Lester, he would stay in good standing with Sheriff Nalla.

After hearing that news from Wally, Jimmy felt he had to act for his own protection, so he devised a plan.

It was early August on a Wednesday night.

Jimmy drove around Boldger on a hunt. This time, his pursuit concentrated on the colored community.

Then he found what he was looking for. He saw Lester walking alone down one of the dirt streets.

Jimmy stopped his car and rushed out.

He rushed over to Lester, who stopped dead in his tracks the second he saw Jimmy, who was afraid to speak.

Jimmy just glared at Lester. “What’s this talk you’ve been saying about me?”

“Ah, I don’t know what you be talking about, Sheriff,” said Lester while he looked around for a place to run.

The second Lester thought he could run away, Jimmy whipped out his nightstick and whacked Lester across his face.

Lester dropped to his knees to the dirt in pain.

Jimmy grabbed Lester by his left arm. “You’re under arrest, Lester Winston,” he said while he brought Lester up to his feet.

“I ain’t done nothing,” said Lester and started to get mad.

Jimmy whacked Lester across his mouth with his nightstick.

Lester doubled over with a split lip.

Jimmy escorted Lester to his squad car and placed him in the back seat.

Jimmy got back behind the wheel and drove off.

A little while later, Lester sat in one of the jail cells at the station. He knew his mouth got him in trouble.

The next morning arrived.

Jimmy drove his squad car down a dirt road on the outskirts of town. He pulled into the front yard of a run-down wooden shack.

Three colored males and two colored teens with an old colored man sat on the front porch. They got nervous when they saw Jimmy’s squad car stop ten feet from their front porch.

They watched as Jimmy stepped out of the car with an authoritative look. They soon spotted an unidentified colored male in the back seat.

Jimmy faced the front porch. “Wilma. Send Melissa out here right now!”

After a few seconds, the front screen door creaked open, and Wilma Washington, a heavy-set colored woman, stepped out on the porch. She had her arm around her daughter Melissa, who had a bit of a pouch stomach and was still scared to death of Sheriff Nalla.

“What do you want, Sheriff Nalla?”

“I caught that rapist, and I need Melissa to identify him,” Jimmy said while he walked to the back door of his squad car.

Melissa cowered, scared to death behind Wilma.

Wilma looked at Jimmy and knew he would not back down. “Let’s get this over with,” she said, walking Melissa, who dragged her feet down the steps.

She walked Melissa to the squad car.

The colored males on the porch stayed fearful of Jimmy.

“Now Melissa, I need you to look at that boy named Lester Winston in the backseat. I want you to identify him as the one that raped you. Do you understand?”

Jimmy noticed Lester staring at the floorboard. He got pissed and banged on the window. “Look at me, Lester!”

Lester looked scared to death at the window. He had a fat lip and swollen eye from a beating Jimmy gave him last night with the nightstick.

“Now Melissa, is this the man that raped you?” Jimmy asked with a serious tone.

Melissa looked at Lester and shook her head in disagreement.

Jimmy got pissed. “Come now, Melissa. I had Melissa identify him. I want you to do the same.”

Melissa shook her head in disagreement while she rubbed her pouchy tummy.

Jimmy noticed, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew what this meant.

Wilma looked brave. “We can’t do this. It ain’t right. It just ain’t right. So it would be best for Melissa if we just forget the whole thing,” she told Jimmy.

Jimmy looked at Melissa, who avoided eye contact.

Jimmy was pissed when he got inside his car but knew he better leaves this one alone.

Wilma rushed Melissa back to the house.

Jimmy’s squad car sped off through the front yard, kicking up dirt and rocks that showered the shack.

Two months passed, and it was a quiet night in Boldger, Alabama.

Inside the Nalla home, Betty read a romantic book in bed.

Jimmy entered the bedroom in his Sheriff ’s uniform, looking incredibly proud. “They gave Lester Winston twenty years for rape,” Jimmy said while he hung up his Sheriff ’s shirt in the closet.

“Damn, I’m a great Sheriff,” he said while he got into bed next to Betty.

Betty didn’t reply. She knew that any colored man would automatically be found guilty by an all-white jury that was supportive of the Klan.

After a few minutes of laying in bed, Betty leaned over and kissed his cheek. She seductively kissed her way to his lips as that romantic book put her in the mood.

Jimmy pushed her away from his face. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Betty felt rejected and turned over to her side. Jimmy got out of bed and walked out of the room. Betty turned off the bedside lamp and closed her eyes.

A little while later, Jimmy sat in his chair in the living room.

He looked at a copy of True Detective magazine with his pants down to his ankles. He masturbated while reading the magazine and looked at the pictures. He ejaculated on the page and then laid the magazine down on the floor. He lit a Luck Strike and took a drag, feeling satisfied again.

It was now September 1961, and Jimmy, for some strange reason, started to like the idea of joining the Army. He felt that he could get paid to legally kill people. But he also loved his job as the Sheriff of Boldger. He loved how he had power and could abuse it without fear of being held accountable. So he talked with Melvin and thought joining the Army Reserves would be the answer.

Melvin called his good friend Colonel Roscoe Purcell, who was now the Commander of the Army Reserve Military Police Commander down at Fort Benning. Roscoe said he would help get Jimmy into his unit since Melvin had given him good deals on new Fords for the past years.

Much to Betty’s quiet objection, Jimmy enlisted in the Army Reserves. At the end of October, he left home and went to Fort Benning, Georgia, for boot camp. During all this Army training, Deputy Wallace Brown maintained law and order in Boldger.

After Jimmy completed boot camp and his MP training at Fort Leonard Wood in Missouri, he became an Army Reservist and couldn’t wait to start his weekend drills.

Jimmy returned home to Boldger, and Melvin was extremely proud of his son.

Betty was also happy, as all that time away had Jimmy extraordinarily horny, and he showed her by whisking her away to the bedroom.

One of Jimmy’s first tasks when he returned home was to drive by Melissa Washington’s home.

It took a couple of drive-bys, but Jimmy finally caught a glimpse of Melissa in a rocking chair on the front porch of their shack. She was pregnant.

Back to reality.

In Daytona Beach, Florida, Sam sat in his lazy boy chair and highlighted areas of extreme interest in the A Killer’s Book.

In Kissimmee, Florida, Marty continued to read A Killer’s Tale with extreme interest. Becky still was not interested in the book. She was more interested in looking at some pictures of Allan in their family album.

Up in Curtis, Mississippi, Billy sat in his den and read A Killer’s Tale and was pissed! “That bastard,” he yelled out while he slammed the book down on the arm of his chair.

He got up, walked over to his little bar, and poured a shot of Jack Daniels. He gulped it down, then looked back at the book. He could not resist, so he returned to his chair with the bottle of Jack Daniels, took another swig, and picked up the book.