Confession by Gary Whitmore - HTML preview

Chapter 26

Thirty minutes later, Becky was in the kitchen in Kissimmee and started dinner. Marty was out with Michael and Nancy and was expected to be home in twenty minutes.

The doorbell rang.

“Coming,” Becky yelled from the kitchen.

She walked through the living room to the front door, opened it, and looked upset when she saw Sam outside.

“How did you find my house?” she asked.

“A little detective work. I used the white pages on the Internet,” he said, holding her printed address from the hotel printer.

“What do you want? I’m busy,” Becky said, irritated.

“I visited your Uncle Billy and his ex-wife,” Sam said, unconcerned. He irritated Becky, as that went with his job as an FBI agent.

Becky got pissed. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Investigating, and honestly, with the things I uncovered so far, Billy could be the October Slayer. Therefore, I need to know what you can tell me about him.”

Becky considered Sam’s offer really hard. All she wanted to do was forget about her Uncle. “Please come inside,” Becky said, figuring Sam wouldn’t leave her alone.

Sam entered, and she closed the door.

Becky walked Sam to the sofa, and they sat down.

“What can you tell me about your Uncle?”

Becky stared at Sam; she. She didn’t want to discuss this, which had haunted her childhood. Her hands trembled as part of that memory resurfaced.

Sam sensed something terrible had happened in the past, as seen by the sign of her trembling hands.

Becky hesitated to tell Sam, but she decided to get it out after a few seconds. “My Uncle Billy molested me when I was younger. It’s not something I’ve talked about for years, but given the case, you’re building,” Becky said; her eyes welled up, and her hands trembled.

“I’m so sorry to hear about that,” Sam replied with a comforting tone, feeling sorry for her.

“It happened one night at our house in Columbus, Georgia, when I was fourteen. Uncle Billy came down from Mississippi and spent the weekend. He was going somewhere with his father, and I believe it was another one of their fishing trips. So late one night, Uncle Billy entered my room when everyone was asleep,” she said while her eyes welled up. “I woke up when I felt his hand sliding down my stomach and crept into my panties. He rubbed with my private part,” she said and wiped away some tears.

“Oh, my God!” Sam said, and his hatred for Billy increased tenfold.

“I screamed, then punched him in his nose. Then I quickly jumped up and kicked him in his crotch,” Becky replied with a smile, as that memory was satisfying.

“If my brother did that to my daughter, I would have kicked his ass for a year.”

“Well, my dad didn’t do that. He just yelled at Uncle Billy and told him never to touch me again.”

“What? Why?” Sam asked, unable to understand why a father would be so easy. Then he thought about the information he had heard about the two brothers. I heard those two were extremely tight and protective of each other.”

“Well, my mom was at least tougher on Uncle Billy. She demanded he never see me again or come within one mile from me, or she was going to the police. It took a while, but Dad reluctantly agreed.”

“The bastard got away easy at that time. Just like he did those other times.”

Becky looked curious with his comment.

“I found out he raped two black girls back in sixty- one and framed someone to take the rap. Your father’s book told that story.”

“Oh, my God! He’s scum or lower than scum,” Becky replied with a disgusted look.

“I talked to one of the families that refused to allow their daughter to lie in court to frame the man. And I also talked with the man who was sent to jail. He’s now out, and Billy ruined his life.”

“He needs to sit in jail for the rest of his life,” Becky said.

“That’s what I’m trying to do, but I need more concrete evidence that would identify him as the killer.”

“I hadn’t seen Uncle Billy for years until just before Dad died. He started bugging me to search Dad’s house.”

“Do you know what he’s looking for?” Sam asked, as this really piqued his interest.

“I don’t have a clue,” Becky said.

Marty entered the living room with Nancy and Michael.

Sam stood up when he saw Marty.

“We have a guest,” Marty said while walking over.

“I’m Marty,” he said while he stuck out his hand.

“Sam Woods,” he replied, then shook Marty’s hand.

Marty sat down on the Lazboy chair.

“Sam’s that retired FBI agent who came to Dad’s house. He wanted to talk with Dad and go through his computer,” she told Marty.

“Ah, yes, about his A Killer’s Tale book,” Marty said.

Becky looked at Nancy and Michael and didn’t want them to hear their discussions. “Why don’t you two go play some video games?”

Nancy and Michael looked surprised by her statement. “We can play before dinner?” they both asked in unison.

“Yes, but only today,” Becky replied.

Nancy and Michael ran out of the room, all excited.

“I believe his book has clues to the identity of the October Slayer,” Sam told Marty.

Marty suddenly looked a little cautious. “Can I see some identification?”

Sam removed his wallet, showed Marty his retired FBI identification badge and Florida driver’s license, and then put it away.

“Sorry about that. You have to be cautious these days,” Marty said.

“I understand,” Sam replied.

“So why would a retired FBI agent be interested in such an old unsolved case?” Marty asked Sam. Then, Marty thought about things for a few seconds. Then, his eyes lit up when it dawned on him. You’re the real-life FBI agent who tried to find the October Slayer,” Marty said.

“Yes, I am,” Sam said, then looked sad. “The fourth victim was the sister of my best friend in college. I promised him I would catch his sister’s killer. I failed and can’t let this go unsolved. At least as long as I’m alive,” Sam said, looking sincere.

Becky and Marty felt sorry for Sam and understood his drive to find the killer.

“I think Billy’s looking for that wooden chest the book mentioned. It had the dresses, bat tip, teeth, and pictures showing the dead girls with the killer,” Marty said. “According to that book,” he added.

“We searched Daddy’s house, attic, and every nook and cranny and didn’t find a wooden chest,” Becky added.

“But Becky remembers seeing an old wooden chest as a young girl. She found a dress inside and put it on. Her father caught her and gave her a spanking,” Marty told Sam.

Becky glared at Marty for bringing that up.

“I don’t remember if it belonged to Dad or Uncle Billy. I only saw it once, and Dad said the dress was Mom’s Christmas present. Dad probably threw it in the trash a long time ago.”

“Did your mom get that dress at Christmas?” Sam curiously asked.

“I really don’t remember since I was young then,” Becky replied.

Outside, Billy sat in his Malibu down the street with a view of Becky’s house., smoking a Lucky Strike while glaring at Sam’s car parked in the driveway.

Billy got out of his car and rushed over to Becky’s house.

Back in Becky’s house, their conservation continued.

“I think Dad must have used that old wooden chest he once had to jazz up the story,” Becky said.

Sam discreetly shook his head in disagreement.

“So, if you don’t mind, I wish we could let him lie in peace,” Becky said as all this talk was starting to upset her.

A car was heard outside, driving away a little too fast.

Sam sensed Becky was getting upset, looked at his watch, and got concerned. “It’s getting late, and I better get going. I’m supposed to attend a play that my girlfriend’s granddaughter has a part in tonight.”

They all stood up, walked to the front door, and Becky opened it.

“Thank you for your time,” Sam said. Then he removed his notepad from his pocket and wrote down his phone number again. He ripped off the paper and handed it to Becky. “Please give me a call. I still need good evidence to turn over to my FBI contact.”

“Believe me, if I find any evidence on Uncle Billy, I’ll call,” she promised.

Marty’s eyes widened when he remembered something. “Oh, by the way, I checked out Allan’s laptop and found nothing that would be evidence,” he said, then cringed.

Becky glared back at Marty. “You didn’t tell me you checked out his laptop.”

“Sorry,” he said and cringed for forgiveness.

Sam looked curious and wondered if Allan deleted some files with evidence. Then he wondered why he would do that. “Well, I better get going,” he said, then stepped outside.

Becky closed the door.

“Your father’s book is Uncle Billy’s unwanted confession. That’s why he’s pissed, he’s been exposed,” Marty told Becky.

“Why can’t I get Uncle Billy out of my life forever?” Becky said while she walked away to check up on the kids.

Marty felt strange when he didn’t hear Sam’s car start. He peeked out the living room curtains and became concerned.

Marty rushed to the front door and rushed outside.

The sun was starting to sink below the horizon.

Sam looked inside the trunk of his car.

“What’s wrong?” Marty asked while approaching Sam.

“I got a flat tire,” Sam replied, removing his spare tire and jack.

Marty looked at the flat passenger tire. Then something caught his eye, and he bent down and looked closer. “Your air valve’s been sliced,” Marty told Sam.

“What happened?” Becky asked while she walked up to them.

“Someone flattened his tire,” Marty told her.

Becky looked up and down the street. “It had to be Uncle Billy,” she said with suspicious eyes.

Sam found it troublesome that Billy could be in Florida.

Marty assisted Sam with changing his car tire.

Forty-five minutes later, Sam was back on the road, just accessed Interstate I-4, heading north to Daytona Beach.

His cell phone rang, and he opened it up. “Hello,” he answered.

“Where are you?” Cindy asked, concerned about his cell phone.

“I’m on I-4 headed north,” he answered. “Are you close to Daytona?” she asked.

Sam hesitated for a few seconds, knowing this wouldn’t be right. “No, I’m kinda south of Orlando,” he said, then cringed, knowing she would be pissed.

“South of Orlando? Why the hell are you south of Orlando?” she replied in a raised tone. “Wait, did you have to talk with someone for your stupid investigation?”

“Ah, yes. I needed to talk with the author’s daughter.”

“So I take it you’re going to miss Kristen’s play?”

“I’ll make it there in time,” he promised, then broke his own rule. Sam accelerated his car fifteen miles over the speed limit. Why don’t I meet you at school?”

“I’ll be waiting outside, so you better not disappoint me.”

“I won’t,” he responded. Then he set his cell phone down and didn’t notice the low battery indication.

An hour later, Sam still drove north on I-4 and checked his watch. “I have plenty of time!” he said, not paying attention to the traffic ahead of him. Then his eyes widen in fear, and he slams on his brakes. His car comes to a screeching stop one foot from the rear of another car.

A significant car accident had traffic completely stopped on I-4.

A few seconds had passed, and Sam’s car was blocked in with the other cars stopped for the accident. “Damn it!” Sam yelled out while he pounded his steering wheel and stared at nothing but tail lights in front and headlights behind him.

Sam grabbed his cell phone, opened it to make a call, and wanted to cry when he saw that the battery had died.

“I’m dead meat,” Sam said, frustrated and running his hands through his hair. He stared at the traffic jam.

A medical helicopter descended and landed on the highway just ahead of the accident scene. Medical personnel had one seriously injured woman on a gurney, ready for transport to the hospital.

Hours later, Cindy stood outside Kristen’s elementary school where no other parents were visible. She was pissed since Sam hadn’t arrived.

Clapping was heard from inside the school auditorium where the play just started.

She opened her cell phone and dialed Sam’s number. A “Caller Unavailable” message appeared in her viewfinder, so she dialed Sam’s home phone number.

“Sam, how could you? You promised to attend Kristen’s play and never showed up! She was hurt! It’s either me or that stupid case, which you’ll never solve!” she yelled into her cell phone.

Furious, she snapped her cell phone shut while storming back inside the school.

Traffic on I-4 started to inch forward after all the injured parties were well on their way to various hospitals.

Outside Kristen’s elementary school, the play was over.

The parents were walking to their cars with their kids.

Outside the auditorium, Cindy gave Kristen a hug while her parents watched.

“I wanted Mister Woods to watch my play,” Kristen said, looking hurt.

“I know, honey. He had to fly out to Los Angeles for some business and got delayed,” Cindy said, but inside, she was furious with Sam.

“That’s too bad,” Kevin said, and Kathy nodded in agreement.

“Let’s get you home, honey,” Kathy said to Kristen, holding her hand.

“Goodnight, Mom,” Kathy said and kissed Cindy’s cheek.

Kevin kissed Cindy on her cheek.

Kathy kissed Cindy on her cheek.

Cindy watched as Kathy, Kevin, and Kristen walked toward their car.

Cindy went in another direction and cursed Sam under her breath.

Off at another end of the parking lot, Billy sat in his Malibu and watched Cindy while she walked to her car.

Billy started the Malibu car and waited for Cindy to leave.

He followed her from the parking lot and tailed her down the street.

Eighteen minutes later, Cindy pulled into her driveway and stopped while her garage door opened. She pulled her car into the garage. Cindy did not notice the shadowy figure wearing a black ski mask and gloves that snuck into her garage. It was Billy.

Cindy turned off her car and closed her garage door.

Cindy exited her car and walked to the door inside her house. She didn’t notice Billy creeping up behind her with a piece of Duct tape.

Billy quickly covered Cindy’s mouth with tape.

“Get the fuck inside before I kill you here in the garage,”

Billy whispered in her ear with a threatening tone.

Cindy’s eyes widened with fear, and she unlocked her door.

“Turn that fucking alarm off,” Billy whispered in her ear after then went inside the utility room.

She immediately turned off the alarm.

“If you signal for the police to come, I’ll slit your old throat,” he whispered in her ear, then nibbled on her lobe.

Cindy was scared to death when she turned off her alarm.

Billy forced her through the utility room and down the hallway.

Billy then walked her to the dining room, throwing her onto the floor.

Cindy slammed hard on the floor and then looked up at her attacker. She saw a man who wore a black ski mask and gloves. She peed in her light blue slacks from fright.

Billy chuckled, seeing the huge wet mark on the crotch of Cindy’s slacks.