Confession by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

Chapter 22

Sam rolled out of bed at six that morning and didn’t sleep a wink after his nightmare.

Sam got ready for his travels in search of a good lead. After eating the hotel’s continental breakfast, he hit the road.

When Sam got down the road from his hotel, he changed his plans and had to visit this one place.

Hours later, Sam finally arrived at the outskirts of Downing, Tennessee, which was fifteen miles into Tennessee from the Alabama border.

Sam drove through the small town of four thousand six hundred and ninety-eight people, which looked peaceful.

While Sam drove, he couldn’t stop thinking about Angie. His hands trembled as he drove down the main street, which brought back bad memories.

He saw a stand-alone liquor store down the street and couldn’t resist.

Sam pulled into the parking lot, parked his car, glanced at Angie’s folder, and then glanced at the liquor store before leaving his car.

Sam walked to the store and went inside.

Five minutes later, he came out of the store with a bottle of Jack Daniels in a brown paper bag.

He got in his car, drove out of the parking lot, and drove down the main street.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam drove down a two-lane country road.

Sam slowed down as the area started to look familiar. He saw an old farmhouse with a front porch to his left. “That wasn’t there backing sixty-five,” he said, then looked for a dirt road.

He saw the “Lake Downing” sign pointing at a small paved road. Sam wasn’t sure this was the right road since the one in sixty-five was dirt, but they figured they had probably paved it years ago.

Sam drove down the road while he looked to his left. Then his eyes lit up when he remembered this spot.

He pulled his car off the road and parked in the dirt.

Sam hesitated when he had second thoughts, then looked at Angie’s picture at the crime scene.

Sam got out with the booze bottle and one of the photos of Angie in hand.

Sam saw the big boulder near the tree where Angie was tied naked.

He walked over to the boulder and sat on top of it. Sam looked at the photo of Angie tied naked to the tree and glanced at the actual tree. It was larger since forty years had passed.

“Ahhhh!” Angie’s scream played in Sam’s mind while he imagined what the woods sounded like that horrible night.

Sam opened up the bottle of Jack Daniels and stared at the bottle opening.

“Come on, let’s party and make those nightmares go away,” the whiskey bottle said in Sam’s mind.

Sam looked back at that tree and imagined the whacking sounds of a blunt beating Angie’s naked body.

Sam brought the whiskey bottle to his lips. When the booze touched his lips, he swiftly threw the whiskey bottle at the tree. It shattered, and whiskey drenched the bark.

“What the hell are you doing? Don’t litter my woods! You jerk!” the voice of an old man was heard. That startled Sam, and he jumped off the boulder.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam replied when he saw Elmer Johnson, an old, thin-framed man with a fishing pole and basket around his waist.

“Why would you want to trash up our beautiful woods?” Elmer scolded Sam.

“I didn’t intend to throw that bottle. I had a friend who was killed here a long time ago,” Sam replied, looking ashamed of himself.

“Oh yeah, the October Slayer killing. Poor girl. I remember that night,” Elmer said while he looked sad.

Sam’s ears perked up when he heard that. “Do you live nearby?”

“Across the street,” Elmer said.

“Listen, my name is Sam Woods, and I’m a retired FBI agent and was on that October Slayer case,” Sam said while he removed his wallet and showed his FBI retired identification card and Florida driver’s license. “Can we talk?” Sam asked and silently prayed Elmer would accept.

Elmer walked over and looked at his ID card and license. “I’m Elmer Johnson, and I don’t see why not. I’ve lived alone since Edith died ten years ago, so a little company would be nice,” Elmer said, then opened up his basket. And I caught more bass than I can eat if you’re hungry,” Elmer offered. They were really biting today, and I couldn’t resist.”

“Actually, I am a little hungry.”

Elmer saw Sam’s car. “How about a lift to my house? I’m a little exhausted from walking to and from the lake.”

“My pleasure.”

“But first, you’ll clean up that broken glass,” Elmer told Sam like he was a child.

Sam looked at the pieces of broken glass in the dirt. “Yes, sir,” he said, then walked over to his car and got the paper bag.

Elmer watched while Sam picked up all the pieces of broken glass and put them inside the bag.

Sam walked over and placed the bag in his trunk.

Sam and Elmer got inside his car. After starting the engine, Sam turned his car around and drove back down the road.

Sam reached the end and turned left on the two-lane road. After about five hundred yards, he turned right onto Elmer’s driveway, which led to the old farmhouse he had seen earlier.

“I don’t recall seeing this farmhouse when I was here in sixty-five.”

“It was here, but I used to have many trees and bushes by the street. So you couldn’t see it from the road.”

They went inside Elmer’s house, and it was in dire need of a good cleaning. His wife Edith would have a hissy fit if she saw how Elmer didn’t keep the house to her spic and span standards.

They went to his kitchen, where he immediately started cleaning the fish for frying after the pot of coffee was brewed.

“You said you remembered that day?” Sam said while he sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee and his notepad ready.

“I sure do,” Elmer said while he dropped two fish into a frying pan.

“Did you see anything that night?”

“I was on the front porch smoking my cigar. My wife, Ethel, wouldn’t allow me to smoke in the house; she said it stunk everything up,” Elmer said, then paused for a minute, staring off into space.

“And?”

“Oh yeah, then I heard numerous blood-curdling screams from the woods across the road in the direction of the lake. I ran back inside and grabbed my rifle, a Winchester Model seventy. Then I ran down my front yard to the trees by the road. I hid behind a tree. I looked in the direction of the dirt road by the sign for the lake. It was quiet, but something still seemed odd with those screams. So I waited, and I waited. Then I saw some car headlights drive down the road. The car stopped, then drove a little farther down the road and stopped. Then, the car drove out of the dirt road. It turned right onto the road in front of my house. It raced away down the street.”

“Do you recall what type of car?” Sam asked while he jotted down that information.

“Sure. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. It was a red Chevy. I believe it was a, ah,” Elmer said, then strained to remember. “Ah yes, it was a newer Impala with a young man driving. But it was dark, so I couldn’t see much of his face, but I knew he was young,” Elmer replied. Then his eyes lit up when he remembered something else. “Oh yeah, someone was in the passenger seat, but I couldn’t tell if it was a woman or man since it was dark.”

“I don’t recall the local Sheriff telling me this information. If he had, I would have talked with you back then,” Sam said, a little concerned.

“I didn’t say anything because I thought it was just two teenagers fooling around by the lake. That used to be a hangout for them having sex,” Elmer said with a grin.

Sam looked disappointed as that information could have helped when investigating the case.

“But I did see the Sheriff in town a week later. I went ahead and told him what I saw,” Elmer added.

“Why didn’t he pass that onto me?” Sam said and looked upset.

“Maybe it’s because he was Klan and hated government agents in his jurisdiction. He remembered the FBI was all over the town of Philadelphia, Mississippi, back in sixty- four. He said he could do a better job of catching that killer than that stupid FBI agent,” Elmer said while removing the two fried basses and placing them on some plates.

Elmer’s comment hurt Sam’s feelings a little. “Yep. We had a few Klan hangings in our neck of the woods, not much. It was terrible, but we knew it would be better to keep our mouths shut,” Elmer said while he walked the bass over to the table.

“It looks good,” Sam said as he grabbed his fork. They ate their trout dinners while they talked.

“So, are you trying to catch that killer?”

“I sure hope so,” Sam replied after chewing on some bass.

“Good, I remember reading how that killer got away. He should spend the rest of his life in jail!” Elmer said, then took a bite of bass.

They continued to eat and talk.

After they finished the bass, Sam and Elmer sat on his living room sofa and drank coffee to go with their small talk.

“Well, Elmer, I have to be hitting the road. I’m driving down to Curtis, Mississippi,” Sam said while he got off the sofa.

Elmer looked disappointed while getting off the sofa.

He walked Sam to the front door. “Thank you so very much for your time, Elmer,” Sam said, reaching out his hand.

“My pleasure, and I’ll pray that you catch that killer.”

Elmer opened the door for Sam and watched him leave. He closed the door and looked sad at his empty house, as he loved the company, Sam, and was again lonely, missing his wife, Edith.

Sam got in his car and returned to Downing to take the road south to Mississippi.

Meanwhile, Becky and Marty still cleaned Allan’s house in St. Cloud.

She cleaned the bathroom while Marty vacuumed the carpet. The vast majority of Allan’s belongings were packed away in boxes.

There was one special box where Becky packed all of Allan’s family photo albums. She was taking that box home. The rest would be sold at their garage sale or donated to Goodwill.

Hours later, Sam drove to the outskirts of Curtis, Mississippi, and found a Motel 6 where. Waffle House was next door. He pulled into the parking lot and parked his car.

Fifteen minutes later, Sam was in his motel room and took a nice hot shower to re-energize. At his age, doing this investigative work on the road after forty years was exhausting.

After his shower, Sam lay on the bed and reviewed his notes. His shower didn’t help, and he got sleepy. His eyelids slowly closed, and Sam fell asleep with his notepad in his hand.

Elsewhere in Curtis, Billy stood in his den and stared at his pictures of Allan and himself on fishing and camping trips. He was on his fifth glass of whiskey and water, getting pissed. “I thought we would keep this our secret? What happened, big brother? You lied to me!” Billy scolded the memories with Alan.

Two hours later, Sam was sound asleep on his motel bed, mumbling while tossing and turning.

His cell phone rang on the bedside table. Sam jumped up, startled, looked around a little confused and dazed, and then realized it was ringing. He reached over and opened it, looked at the viewfinder, and then quickly looked at his watch.

“Hello, darling. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I was exhausted and fell asleep,” Sam answered his cell phone.

“Maybe you should come home.”

“I can’t. I’m getting some great information,” Sam said with a determined look, saying he was going for nine yards.

“If you must,” she replied, as she knew there was no way she could change his mind. “Anyway, what time will you be home tomorrow?”

Sam cringed. “I know I’m on the verge of being killed again, but I made a side trip to Tennessee and talked with this helpful old man.”

“I thought you were going straight to Mississippi?” she snapped at him from the phone.

“I know, I’m now in Mississippi. I’ll be here at least tomorrow. I have some research to conduct,” Sam said.

There were a few seconds of silence, which seemed like an eternity to Sam. “Okay, but don’t forget Kristen’s play. She has her heart set on you attending,” she said. “Plus, be extra careful. I want you back home alive.”

“I won’t miss her play. And don’t worry. I know what I’m doing. After all, I did this for forty years without being shot.”

There was a long moment of silence from his cell. “Sam, this is starting to worry me sick. No wonder your wife divorced you,” she said with a worried tone.

“I know, honey. If I don’t try this one last time, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

There was another long moment of silence on the cell phone. “Okay. Be careful.”

Sam closed his cell phone and looked at the five file folders and Allan’s book on the bed. He had a strong urge for a good stiff drink of whiskey.

Back in Florida, Marty grabbed Allan’s old laptop. Since Becky was sound asleep in bed, Marty powered up the laptop.

Marty started navigating through all the files on that computer, looking for any possible evidence Allan had saved.