Kent moved away from the smoke.
“I know Grant Bowers. He’s an Air Force Air Policeman. He plays on our softball team. He’s a stand-up guy, and I know he wouldn’t kill a teenage girl,” said Detective Chambers when he took another drag on his Lucky Strike and exhaled smoke back at Kent. “But a guy with a stupid fake identification like this one,” he said while he picked up Kent’s driver’s license. “Would kill a young teenager that refused his sexual advances,” he said, then shoved the driver’s license back in his suit pocket.
Detective Chambers got up from the table. He glared at Kent and couldn’t wait to see this kid fry in Old Sparky.
He walked around the table and over to Kent.
Kent got nervous and thought he would get an old fashion beating. But instead, Detective Chambers brought his mouth inches from Kent’s right ear. “I’ll now have to call Colonel Abbott,” said Detective Chambers, and his bad breath was noticeable to Kent.
“I hate calling parents to go and identify their dead kid
at the morgue.” “I HATE IT!” he yelled in Kent’s ear, causing him to jump. “I’m going to love seeing you fry,” he said, then walked away from Kent.
Kent was scared but relieved he wouldn’t get his butt kicked.
Detective Chambers walked to the room door, opened it, and entered the hallway.
“Wait!” called out Kent when he remembered something important.
Detective Chambers stepped back inside the room, thinking Kent would finally confess.
“My movie camera is out there in the bushes. I filmed Grant strangling Angie,” he said.
Detective Chambers looked at Kent. “Bullshit. I checked the area for evidence and didn’t find a movie camera,” he said, stepping back into the hallway.
“Malone, put this turd back in his cell,” he called out, then walked away, slamming the door.
Kent jumped when the door slammed.
The door opened, and Officer Smith entered the room and motioned for Kent to accompany him.
A few minutes had passed, and Kent was back in his cell. He sat on his bunk, and his eyes welled up again. Back in the squad room Detective Chambers sat down at his desk. He picked up his desk phone and dialed the “zero” number.
“Operator.”
“I need the number for the Cambridge,
Massachusetts police department, said Detective Chambers into the phone.
“One second,” said the operator, and there was a few seconds of silence. “That number would be area code six, one, seven, five, five, five, nine, nine, zero, three.”
Detective Chambers jotted down that number.
“Thank you,” he said and disconnected that call and quickly dialed in that new number.
“Cambridge Police Department. Officer Ned Norris,” he said, answering the call.
“Officer Norris. This is Detective Chuck Chambers down here in Warner Robins, Georgia.”
“How can I help you, Detective?”
“I’m working a murder case. Our suspect had a fake driver’s license with an address from Cambridge. I would like to verify who lives at this address,” he said, then glanced at Kent’s driver’s license.
“What’s the address?”
“Two, three, four, six, Maple Avenue. Apartment thirty-six. His name is Kent Hollister. Again, I don’t believe he lives there, but could you verify that for me?” “Sure thing, Detective. What’s your number? It might take me an hour to have it checked out.”
“Call me at area code four, seven, eight, five, five, five, four, six, one, zero.”
“Got it. I’ll call as soon as I verify that address,”
said Officer Norris and hung up his phone.
Detective Chambers hung up his phone, got up from his desk, and headed straight to the coffee pot.
He poured a cup of Joe and headed back to his desk. He sat there drinking his coffee and glanced down at his notes.
He headed back to his desk and stared at his phone.
He was on his third glass of Scotch at Colonel Abbott’s quarters on the Air Force Base, worried that Angie hadn’t come home.
His wife Betty was peeking out the front window curtains thinking Angie would pull up any second. Of course, she didn’t.
Two minutes had passed, and Colonel Abbott got a phone call. It was that dreaded phone call that all parents hoped they never received. It was from
Detective Chambers, and he learned what had happened to his sweet daughter Angie earlier.
When he confronted Betty with the news, she collapsed to the floor sobbing hysterically.
Colonel Abbott picked up Betty and carried her to the bedroom. He insisted that she take some sleeping pills. Once she was sound asleep, he had a fellow officer who lived at the next-door quarters drive him to the morgue.
Detective Chambers’s desk phone was getting ready to leave to head to the morgue when his desk rang. “Detective Chambers,” he said, answering the call.
“Officer Norris from Cambridge. I checked on that address, and it’s not a place of residence. It’s a small auto mechanic’s shop, called Fred’s.”
“Figures. Thanks, officer. You helped my case,”
said Detective Chambers while he jotted down that information. “Oh, one more thing, do you have pictures on your driver’s license up there?”
“Pictures? What kind of pictures?”
“The picture of the driver on your license. This Kent Hollister had a picture of himself on his driver’s license.”
“That’s absurd. We don’t have that and don’t see a need for it,” said Officer Norris. “This Hollister guy must be a nut.”
“He sure is.” “And thank you, Officer Norris,”
said Detective Chambers, and he hung up the phone and removed another Lucky Strike from his pack. He lit it and studied his notes. Something hit him like a ton of bricks. “Kent Hollister!” he said, as that name was suddenly familiar. He shrugged that feeling off and rushed out of the station.
Ten minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers met Colonel Abbott at the morgue.
“That’s my daughter, Angie,” said Colonel Abbott fighting back his tears. “So you have her killer behind bars?”
“Yes, sir.”
Colonel Abbott’s eyes lit up. “Do you have my car? It’s a fifty-seven black and yellow Ford Fairlane?”
“There wasn’t a car at the scene.”
Colonel Abbott thought for a few seconds. “She did work at the Piggly Wiggly this morning. She’s a part-time cashier. I wanted her to help save up for her college fund,” he said.
“I’ll swing by the Piggly Wiggly. I’ll need to look it over for any evidence.”
“Understand, Detective,” said Colonel Abbott.
“Call me if you need anything.”
“I will, sir,” said Detective Chambers, and they shook hands and left the morgue.
His neighbor drove Colonel Abbott back to the Air Force base while Detective Chambers drove off to the Piggly Wiggly.
Ten minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers drove his Bel-Air into the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.
The store was closed, and the only car in the lot was off to the right side of the Piggly Wiggly store was a black and yellow fifty-seven Ford Fairlane.
He drove his car over and parked by the Fairlane.
He got outside and walked over to the car. He peeked inside and saw some folded-up clothes on the passenger side of the front seat.
He walked around to the front passenger door and opened it.
He reached inside and grabbed the folded clothes.
He saw it was a pair of women’s black slacks and a Piggly Wiggly blouse with the “Angie” name tag. The Detective realized Angie must have changed clothes for some reason.
He searched the rest of the inside of the car. “No purse,” he said and wondered knew it wasn’t at the scene and figured the killer had ditched it somewhere.
He returned to his Bell-Air, drove out of the parking lot, and headed back to the station. He wasn’t concerned about leaving the Fairlane unlocked since, in those days, nobody would dare go inside another person’s car without permission.
Once he returned to the station, he headed straight to the jail cells.
He walked down that hallway and stood by Kent’s cell. He saw Kent still awake on the cell bunk and wanted too much to go in there and beat the crap out of Kent. He refrained. “Hollister, what did you do with Angie’s purse?” he said.
Kent sat up on his bunk. “Purse? She didn’t have a purse with her. It must be inside Grant’s T-Bird,” he said. Detective Chambers looked at Kent, and he felt Kent was lying. “More of your bullshit that won’t work with me,” he said, then walked away, thinking the purse was unimportant as they had Kent dead to rights being caught at the body.
Detective Chambers left the station.
He went home to get some needed sleep.
Back up in Macon, Grant left the Pink Pussy Cat Lounge.
He got in his T-Bird then something caught his attention from the neon lights of the lounge. It was Angie’s purse on the passenger floorboard. “Shit,” he silently cursed out while he grabbed her purse.
He cranked up his T-Bird and drove out of the lounge’s parking lot.
He drove out of Macon, and once he got to the countryside on Route 12, he slowed his T-Bird down, reached over, and rolled down the passenger door window. He opened Angie’s purse and started
throwing items out the window every fifty feet down the road.
First, it was her lipstick.
Then it was her small round makeup mirror.
He removed the six one-dollar bills from her purse. He shoved them in his pants pocket.
He removed the keys to the Fairlane and tossed them out the window.
He removed her driver’s license and wondered how he should safely dispose of it. His eyes lit up with an idea.
He drove through the curvey section of Route 12, and once the road had a shoulder again, he pulled his T-Bird over.
He pushed in the cigarette lighter and waited. The second it popped out, he removed it, opened his driver’s door, and stepped outside.
He set the corner of her driver’s license on the glowing red coils of the cigarette lighter. The paper license started to flame up. He dropped her flaming license onto the road and watched it burn and turn into a piece of black ash. He smashed it with the bottom of his right shoe.
He returned to his T-Bird, satisfied there was nothing to connect him with Angie tonight.
He drove his T-Bird back to the Air Force base.
At the police station, Kent’s headache subsided enough to allow him to fall asleep on his jail cell bunk.
It’s Sunday and five in the morning.
Detective Chambers got up early and drove over to Buster Clements house.
He woke Buster up by pounding on his front door. Buster appeared at his front door in his tee shirt and white boxers. “Chuck, what’s so fucking important to wake me up in the wee hours on a Sunday morning?”
“I need you to head over to the Piggly Wiggly. A fifty-seven black and yellow Ford Fairlane is in the parking lot. It’s by the side of the store. I need it towed to and placed behind the station.”
“Why now?” said Buster between yawns.
“That Fairlane belongs to Colonel Abbott from the air base. His teenage girl was killed down at Meyers’ cabin last night?”
“What? A young girl killed down at Meyers’
cabin?” said Buster said. His eyes widened. “Probably one of those homos that go there to do perverted nasty stuff with other homos,” he said, pausing for a few seconds. “You do know that those homos sometimes use that old cabin?” he said, then cringed.
“I mean, that’s what I heard. You know, talk around town,” said Buster, as he didn’t want Detective Chambers to believe that he secretly visited that cabin in the past.
“We heard about those stories,” said Detective Chambers, and he saw Buster’s wife Carla in the living room, and she heard everything.
“I’ll get that car right away.”
“Thanks, Buster,” said Detective Chambers, and he walked away and headed back to his car.
Buster closed his front door and got dressed.
Thirty minutes passed, and Buster towed Colonel Abbott’s Fairlane away from the Piggly Wiggly parking lot and placed it behind the police station.
He drove away wanting to go home and take a nap. The Warner Robins police station was quiet.
Forty-eight-year-old Officer Wilbur Glenn and forty-year-old Officer Andy Steward were on duty.
Normally Officer Glenn was the only one working the third shift on Sunday morning. Still, Officer Steward also worked the shift since they had a prisoner.
In his jail cell, Kent was sound asleep.
He was deep in a dream…
In his dream, Kent was strapped to a wooden chair that was in no way comfortable. It was Old Sparky. He had his legs shaved and straps around his legs above his ankles. His wrists were strapped to the wooden arms of the chair. He could feel his head shaved by cool air flowing across his bare skin.
He saw through the room’s glass windows that numerous people were watching him like he was at a Circus Side Show, and some were eating popcorn from paper bags. “Die, you piece of shit!” everyone chanted between handfuls of popcorn into their mouths.
Suddenly his mom was in view in the front row of the audience. She was her age from nineteen eighty-one. She was the only one in the audience not chanting or eating popcorn. She was crying during the “Die you piece of shit” chanting.
Kent’s vision went black while the leather hood went over his head. He still could hear the “Die you piece of shit!” chanting behind his mom’s loud sobbing.
Kent felt a sudden thud throughout his body…
Back to reality…
Kent woke up on the floor by the bunk in his jail cell. He was dazed and a little confused and sat up and
looked around and saw his eight-by-eight-foot cell. He remembered where he was and realized he had fallen out of his bunk during his dream. He breathed a sigh of relief he wasn’t the guest of Old Sparky.
He got off the floor, stretched, and sat back on his bunk. His headache was completely gone.
He felt something and got up and headed to the cell bars. “Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom,”
he called out, pushing his face through some bar openings.
A few seconds passed, and Officer Glenn came down the short hallway that housed three jail cells.
He walked up to the middle cell that held Kent.
He unlocked the door and opened it.
Kent stepped out into the hallway.
“I’ll shoot if you attempt to run,” said Officer Glenn, placing his right hand on his revolver in its holster.
“I won’t, sir,” said Kent.
Officer Glenn escorted Kent to the front end of the hallway, where there was a bathroom.
Officer Glenn stepped inside the bathroom with Kent. “Take your piss.”
Kent was the bathroom had one toilet with no privacy, a urinal, a sink without a mirror, and a small shower without a curtain. No privacy. He thought while he walked up to the urinal.
Kent felt awkward peeing with someone watching but didn’t want to piss in his pants.
After he was done and washed his hands, Officer Glenn escorted him out of the bathroom and placed him back in his cell.
It was seven-thirty that morning, and Officers Glenn and Steward went home. Officer Peabody was covering the first shift, and he arrived.
Officer Peabody went to Kent’s jail cell.
“Breakfast will be here in two hours after the diner
opens,” said Officer Peabody, who couldn’t wait for his daily dose of glazed donuts.
He walked away while Kent sat down on his bunk.
“Why did I make this trip?” Kend said quietly while staring at the white-painted concrete wall across the bunk. It was a long and grueling two-hour wait, with Kent’s stomach growling the whole time.
The cell door opened, and Officer Peabody opened up the cell door and entered with a tray in hand. A covered plate with two fried eggs, two pieces of bacon, one piece of buttered toast, and a paper cup of hot coffee was on the tray. “That’s all you get,” said Officer Peabody while he handed Kent the tray.
Officer Peabody left the cell, locking the door while Kent sat on his bunk and devoured his breakfast.
He was starving.
Officer Peabody returned to his desk and munched on the first of his six glazed donuts along with his coffee. He was in donut heaven.
Ten minutes passed, and Kent finished breakfast, and Officer Peabody took the tray away.
Twenty minutes passed, and Detective Chambers was dressed in his brown suit at the Peach Tree Diner.
He sat at the counter eating breakfast when Edith walked up and placed an order in the pass-through window.
“Edith, I would like to ask you something.”
“What’s that sugar?”
“Has a stranger been eating here at the diner within the past few days? Goes by the name of Kent Hollister?”
Edith thought about his question for a few seconds. Her eyes lit up. “There’s this new kid, said his name was Kent. Didn’t tell me his last name.”
“Was he in his thirties and had black hair?”
“Yes, that sure sounds like him. He’s been eating here for the past three days. Why are you asking?”
“Well, a teenage girl, the daughter of an Air Force Colonel, murdered over at Meyer’s cabin last night.
This Kent guy was standing by her body when our officers arrived.”
Edith’s eyes widened in shock. “Teenage girl.
Murdered last night? And this Kent stranger killed her?” Detective Chambers nodded that that was true.
“Oh my, he seemed to be such a nice kid.”
“Well, he’s a murderer.”
Edith thought about Detective Chambers’s words, then recalled Kent eating at the diner. “He seemed so nice. And the strange part is that I had this weird feeling I knew him.”
Detective Chambers thought that comment was odd, as he also had that feeling.
The door to the diner opened, and Edith walked away to greet her new customers.
Detective Chambers returned to his breakfast.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers was in the station.
He immediately searched the inside Fairlane and concentrated under the seats for evidence. He found nothing and decided to release the car to Colonel Abbott. He went back to the station and made the call.
He entered the station, got a cup of coffee, and sat at his desk, thinking about the past eighteen hours.
He remembered something about the case and made a phone call.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and Kent was climbing the walls in his jail cell.
Officer Peabody walked up to his jail cell. “You have someone that wants to see you,” he said.
Kent stood up, and his eyes widened in shock the second he saw his daddy, Henry, standing in the jail cell next to Officer Peabody. Henry was dressed in his brown suit, as he just got home from church when Detective Chambers called.
Kent was speechless. Daddy! Kent cried out in his head and wanted to run over there and hug him.
“Do you know him?” said Detective Chambers, who walked up to Henry.
Henry looked at Kent, and there was something familiar with this guy in the cell. “Ah, I don’t believe I do,” he said while Henry and Kent stared at each other.
After a few seconds of Kent and Henry staring at him, Detective Chambers motioned they should leave.
The three walked away from Kent’s cell.
Kent sat back on his jail cell bunk, and his eyes started to well up at seeing his daddy alive again. He was like he remembered when he was a kid.
“I was out in the woods yesterday doing target practice with my thirty-eight revolver. I didn’t hear any screaming. But I was quite a bit away from that cabin,”
said Henry while he and Detective Chambers walked out of the jail cell hallway and through the office area.
They walked over to Detective Chambers’s desk.
Henry sat in a chair next to the desk.
“You know, Henry, there’s something strange about that guy,” said Detective Chambers while he sat at his desk.
“I know,” said Henry.
“It’s like I know him. He uses the same name as your kid, Kent, which could be a coincidence as there are probably hundreds of other guys named Kent Hollister across the country.
“I know, but,” said Henry.
“But, he does remind me of your Kent. I can’t explain it, but it’s just a gut feeling that won’t go away,”
said Detective Chambers interrupting Henry.
“I know what you mean. I felt the same way when I saw him in that cell.” “It was weird; he reminds me of my Kent,” said Henry, and he couldn’t stop thinking about that. “So, what do you have on the case?”
Detective Chambers handed Henry the case file folder on Angie’s murder.
Henry opened it up and reviewed the pictures and Detective Chambers’ notes.
After a few seconds of reviewing the notes, his eyes soon widened. “Grant Bowers? Why would he claim Grant Bowers killed that teenager?” said Henry.
“He wouldn’t do that. I’ve known him since we were stationed in the Army in Massachusetts back in the late forties. Sure, Grant’s a Playboy, but he wouldn’t harm a hair on a teenager,” he said and felt confident about his feeling.
Detective Chambers frowned. “I don’t know why he would state that, but what’s also strange is that this stranger came into town a few days ago and saw Grant at the Peach Tree Diner. Kills a young teenager and blames it on Grant.”
Henry saw the sketch. “A sketch to the Meyers’
cabin?” How did he get the directions?”
“Ah, probably asked someone in town. Maybe at the diner.”
Henry put the sketch down and saw Kent’s driver’s license. He wasn’t sure what he was looking at.
“What’s this?” he said, holding up the license.
“The guy’s fake identification.”
Henry frowned. “Fake identification?” He saw the picture of Henry. “Why the long hair?”
“Who knows? Maybe he likes dressing up like a woman on Saturday night,” said Detective Chambers, and a chill went through his body thinking about guys doing that perverted stuff. “Creepy.”
“Maybe,” said Henry while he saw the address on the license. Then his eyes widened when he saw the issue date. “It has a date over twenty years from now.
What the hell is this?”
“I know. Very weird.”
Henry’s eyes widened at something bizarre. “His date of birth on this license is the same as my son’s.”
“His date of birth on this license is October seventeenth, nineteen fifty-one. The same as my boy.”
“How the hell did he know Kent’s birthday?”
“I don’t know, maybe just a coincidence. All I can say is that this guy is so dumb with creating a fake identification in that he puts his picture on and then fucks up and puts the wrong issue date and the wrong date of birth,” said Detective Chambers.
“Do you think he was spying on me?” said Henry while he stared at Kent’s driver’s license.
Detective Chambers thought about that for a few seconds. “Nah. I don’t think so.”
Henry shrugged off that feeling of being spied on, put everything back in the folder, and handed it back to Detective Chambers.
“I’ll have to talk with Grant to see if he can shed some light on this stranger,” said Detective Chambers.
Henry nodded in agreement. “We can drive out to the base now.”
Detective Chambers nodded in agreement then his eyes widened when he remembered something.
“So that guy claimed he had a movie camera out there and filmed Grant strangling that girl?” said Henry.
“He did, but I searched the area for evidence and didn’t find anything like that,” he said. “Claimed it was in some bushes.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, but I think it’s pure bullshit,” said Detective Chambers.
“You’re probably right,” said Henry, standing up from his chair. “Well, ready to go wake up, Grant?”
“You bet,” said Detective Chambers. “We’ll take my car.”
Detective Chambers and Henry left the station, got in Chambers Bel-Air, and drove off to the Air Force base.
Ten minutes passed, and Detective Chambers drove up to the front gate of Robins Air Force Base.
Airman Third Class Derek Allen was on gate duty.
He wore his blue uniform with the standard “Air Police” armband and blue helmet with a white stripe.
“Good morning, Airman,” said Detective Chambers after he stopped his car. “We’re here to see Lieutenant Bowers,” he said, showing his Detective’s badge.
“It’s not official business; we’re old softball friends,” said Henry from the passenger seat.
“Please proceed, sir,” said Derek, nervous, wondering if maybe they realized Grant had killed that young girl. But the local police had the authorization to come on base anytime they wanted, so Derek knew he couldn’t turn them away.
“Thanks,” said Detective Chambers then he drove away. Derek watched while Detective Chambers drove his Bel-Air away through the front gate. “I hope they arrest the bastard,” he said quietly, then returned to the guard shack and sat down.
Detective Chambers drove his car through the streets of Robins Air Force Base and soon pulled into the parking lot of the Officers’ Quarters.
He parked his car, and they walked to the old wooden two stories World War II era building.
They went inside and headed to Grant’s room on the first floor.
Henry knocked on Grant’s room door.
After a few seconds, the door opened, and Grant stood, hair messed up in his white tee shirt and boxers.
He was woken up from a sound sleep. “What?” he said groggy and didn’t recognize the two guys in the hall, as his eyes hadn’t focused.
“It’s us, Chuck and Henry,” said Detective Chambers knowing Grant had just awakened.
Grant’s eyes finally focused. “Oh, hey, guys.
What brings you here to see me so early on a Sunday morning?”
Henry looked at his watch. “It’s about twelve-thirty in the afternoon.
“It is?” said Grant.
“Party all night did we?” said Detective Chambers.
“Yeah, I did have ten too many drinks,” said Grant. “Please step inside, gentlemen,” he said, stepping aside.
They went inside Grant’s room. “So what brings you here?” he said and had butterflies in his stomach when he remembered yesterday evening. He closed his room door.
“We have a very weird situation here, Grant,” said Detective Chamber.
“What kind of weird situation?” said Grant, and he started to get nervous and fought hard not to show it. “Well, we had a murder last night. A teenage girl named Angie Abbott. She’s the daughter of Colonel Abbott here on base,” said Detective Chambers.
“Colonel Abbott’s daughter was killed? Oh my,”
said Grant pretendinc to be concerned.
“Yes, do you know her?” said Detective Chambers.
“I know of her. One of my airmen pulled her over for speeding on base five months ago,” said Grant.
“Colonel Abbott stormed into our office furious. I had to tear up the ticket,” he said then his eyes widened with an idea. “Want me to help with the investigation?
I mean, it does involve an Air Force dependent.”
“Probably not. We already have a suspect in custody.”
“Wow, you’re quick,” said Grant.
“Yes, but the strange thing is that he claims you killed Angie Abbott last night.”
“What? Me? That’s absurd!” said Grant, and he tried his best to look dead serious.
“Tell me about it. So, where were you yesterday evening?” said Detective Chambers. “Sorry, I have to ask.” Grant looked at Henry and Detective Chambers and ensured he kept eye contact with them. “Why I was up in Macon. I went to the Pink Pussy Cat Lounge watching the girls and dranking beer all night.”
“What time did you get up there?” said Detective Chambers.
“Oh, I would say around six. But I wasn’t looking at my watch. I was too busy thinking who would be on the stage showing off her goodies,” said Grant, who looked dead serious.
“Why don’t you come to the station and check this guy out?” said Henry.
“Sure. I would like to see this crackpot in person,” said Grant, grabbing his slacks off the chair and slipping into them.
“We’ll meet you at the station,” said Detective Chambers.
“Okay, I’ll be there shortly,” said Grant.
Detective Chambers and Henry left Grant’s room and left the building.
They walked to the car in the parking lot and got inside.
Detective Chambers cranked up the car and drove away through the parking lot.
He pulled out of the parking spot and onto the street.
He headed to the front gate.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers, Henry, and Grant arrived at Kent’s jail cell.
“Stand up, turd,” Detective Chambers ordered.
Kent got off his bunk and saw the three guys at his cell bars. His eyes lit up. “That’s him! That’s Grant
Bowers, who killed Angie Abbott last night,” yelled out. “That’s a fucking lie!” Grant fired back. “A boldface fucking lie!”
“Have you seen this guy before?” said Detective Chambers.
Grant looked at Kent. “Nope,” he said, then paused for a few seconds. “Wait. I’ve seen this guy the other morning. Thursday morning at the Peach Tree Diner. I was with a young lady,” said Grant, and he gave Detective Grant and Henry a naughty boy smirk.
“You know.”
Detective Chambers and Henry gave Grant a little smile.
“I was in uniform, and he probably saw my name tag and heard my blonde lady friend, Ashley Cooper.
She’s a secretary here on base. At logistics,” said Grant, then paused for a few seconds. “So he probably heard her say my name in our booth.” “I was sucking on her ear lobe, and she told me it tickled.”
Detective Chambers and Henry chuckled over that. “That’s what he said,” said Detective Chambers.
“Then, after Ashley and I were done eating breakfast, we returned to my car. Where she, you know,” said Grant and used his tongue and poked the inside of his cheek to show she gave him a blowjob.
“That creep then creped up to my car in the parking lot to take a peek. He’s a fucking peeping Tom.”
Kent knew he couldn’t dispute that fact. “But you tried to run me over after that,” blurted out Kent.
“That’s more bullshit,” said Grant. “I’m Air Police with the Air Force. I wouldn’t do that!”
“Well, we’re done here,” said Detective Chambers, then glared at Kent. “I’m going to have your arraigned in the morning on murder charges.”
The three walked away from the cell.
Kent sat back down on his cell bunk. His eyes welled up, knowing that they didn’t believe him.
Detective Chambers, Henry, and Grant walked into the office area of the station.
“That guy’s loony,” said Grant. “Give me a few minutes alone with him. I deserve that since he falsely accused me.”
“Nah, we better not. We don’t want to give him any advantage in court,” he said, but inside, he didn’t want Kent harmed.
“Well, no harm done,” said Grant. “I better get back to the base and let me know if you need me to testify against him,” he said.
“We will,” said Detective Chambers.
Grant walked away to the station’s front door.
mHe opened one of the doors and turned around. “I’ll see you guys for the softball game on Thursday evening?”
“You bet,” said Detective Chambers, then he pretended he swung a baseball bat.
“See you then,” said Henry.
Grant left the station.
“Well, that’s that. My job is done here. That guy we have locked up killed that Abbott girl, pure and simple. Case closed,” said Detective Chambers.
“Yeah, it does look that way,” said Henry, but he had this little feeling in his gut that made him wonder.
“Well, I better get home to Brenda and Kent,” he said, then headed to the door.
Henry left the station.
Detective Chambers went over to the coffee pot and poured another cup.
He returned to his desk and sat down.
Five minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers relaxed at his desk, drinking his coffee.
“Detective Chambers,” said Colonel Abbott in civilian clothes standing at the front counter.
Detective Chambers glanced up and saw the Colonel. “Ah, yes, your car,” he said, grabbing a set of car keys off his desk.
“It’s parked behind the station,” he said, handing Colonel Abbott the keys.
“Can I see him?”
“I don’t see why not,” said Detective Chambers, motioning for the Colonel to follow him.
Colonel Abbott followed Detective Chambers through the office and to the hallway for the jail cell.
Kent sat up in his cell and saw Detective Chambers walk to his cell door with an Air Force Colonel. He got up off the bunk.
“That’s him?” said Colonel Abbott.
“Yes, sir, he’s the one that killed your daughter.”
Kent realized that that man was Colonel Abbott.
“No sir, I swear I didn’t kill your daughter,” said Kent.
Colonel Abbott looked at Kent and saw that he appeared serious.
“One of our officers found him standing by your daughter’s body in a clearing by Meyers’ cabin.
Nobody else was around.”
“I swear, sir, I didn’t kill Angie. It was Grant Bowers from the Air Force Base.”
“Lieutenant Bowers? From the Air Police?” said Colonel Abbott. “I know him.”
“Yes, sir. Angie claimed he got her pregnant and wouldn’t marry him?”
“Pregnant? What the fuck is this man talking about?” said Colonel Abbott in a raised voice. “Not my Angie. No way!” he said, clenched his fists, and wanted to beat the crap out of Kent.
“I swear she said she was pregnant,” said Kent. “I heard her tell Grant that, and he refused to marry her.”
Colonel Abbott thought for a few seconds and knew how these teenagers were in today’s times. “I want an autopsy to verify what he just told me,” he told Detective Chambers.
“Yes, sir, I’ll have the coroner do that.”
“How do I break that news to the wife if that’s true?”
Detective Chambers looked at Colonel Abbott and shrugged his shoulders, indicating he didn’t know the answer to that dilemma.
“I need to get back the base. Call me immediately with those autopsy results,” he said, walking away.
“Yes, sir. I will do that,” said Detective Chambers, and he walked away.
Kent sat back on his bunk and silently prayed he wouldn’t have any more visitors.
Over in Warner Robins, Henry was home and entered the kitchen.
He saw Brenda baking brownies for dinner.
“Hey, honey,” he said when he arrived in the kitchen, where Brenda was stirring the brownie mix in a bowl.
“Where were you?”
“Oh, with Chuck Chambers. It appears a female teenager Air Force dependent was killed last night down by Meyers’ cabin.”
“Murdered! Oh my!” she said and stopped stirring.
“Chuck has a suspect down at the station. But he, for some reason, claimed Grant killed this girl.”
“Grant?” said Brenda.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” Brenda said quietly. “I remember what happened in forty-nine.”
“Did you say something?”
“No,” she said, then poured the brownie mix into a buttered sheet pan.
“This murder suspect had an address from Cambridge.”
Brenda looked at Henry. “Did you say
Cambridge? Like in Cambridge, Massachusetts?”
“Yes.”
“What’s his name? I’ll see if Daddy has heard of him.”
Henry looked at Brenda and wondered if she should answer. But figured it would be in the newspaper anyway. “You won’t believe this, but he uses the name of Kent Hollister.”
It took a few seconds for it to dawn on Brenda.
“Did you say, Kent Hollister? The same name as our son?” “I did. You know hundreds of other Kent Hollisters must be out there across the country.”
“Yes, but a killer in our town with the same name.
That’s just too spooky,” she said and got the shivers.
“I know, so where’s our Kent?”
“He’s playing at Gilbert’s house,” she said while she placed the sheet pan in her pre-heated oven.
“Oh, okay,” said Henry while he walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and got a bottle of Black Label beer. He opened up the bottle and left the kitchen.
He went into the living room to watch TV and drink his Black Label.
Brenda entered the living room. “Don’t drink too much beer if you’re going out target practicing.”
Henry looked at Brenda. “I’m not going tonight.”
“Why?”
“Don’t feel like it. My mind’s on this murder case.” “Probably a good idea. You don’t want to accidentally shoot yourself in the foot,” she said, leaving the living room.
At the police station, Kent was eating his dinner of meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn, and a glass of sweet tea.
Back at Henry’s house, they were at the dining room table eating a pot roast dinner with mashed potatoes, green beans, and sweet tea, except Kent had a tall glass of milk.
While they ate dinner, Henry occasionally glanced at his young son Kent and wondered why that stranger
in the jail cell reminded him so much of his young son.
He shook off that feeling and continued eating.
Grant ate at the Officer’s Club back on Robins Air Force Base. He was still nervous and wondered if he was in the clear. “They believe me. They must believe me,” he quietly said.
Back at the Abbott quarters on the base, Colonel Abbott was on his fourth glass of Scotch while his wife continued to sob on her pillow in the bedroom. His blood was boiling.
Meanwhile, over at the Peach Tree Motor Court, Detective Chambers got permission to search the room Kent rented. He only found a suit, a Fedora hat, and some toiletry items in the bathroom.
He checked the pocket of Kent’s suit and found four Greyhound bus tickets.
One was dated for Tuesday, and it was for a trip from Boston to Savannah. One ticket was for a trip on Wednesday from Savanna to Macon. The other ticket was for Macon to Savannah, leaving Monday, and the other ticket was for Savannah to Boston, also leaving on Monday.
“Well, looks like you won’t be using these tickets to get out of my town,” said Detective Chambers while he shoved them in his shirt pocket for additional evidence for the case.
He spotted the opened box of Fig Newtons on the bedside table. He walked over and looked at the box and the rest of the Fig Newtons. “He won’t need these,” he said and snatched up the Fig Newtons.
He munched on the Fig Newtons while he left the Motor Court room.
It was quiet for the rest of the night in Warner Robins.
It was now Monday and two in the morning.
Back at Linus’ barn in the Cambridge area, it was quiet.
Suddenly a ring of faint cyan color formed on the ground inside the barn. It was at the same location where the time machine stood back in nineteen eighty-one. The cyan-colored ring got brighter.
There was an explosion of cyan light at the ring.
There was a counterclockwise swirl of bright cyan light emitting from that ring. The swirl suddenly broke into green and blue light beams in a swirling counterclockwise rotation.
There was the faint sighting of the spinning time machine within those swirling rotating beams of green and blue beams of light from the base and from the rear saucer.
The beams of light faded away, and the time machine spun counterclockwise. There was a loud humming sound.
The time machine’s spinning slowed, and the humming sound became quiet.
The spinning time machine slowed down, and the humming stopped.
The time machine door opened, and out stepped Linus. But he sported a black suit, a thin black tie, and a black Fedora hat. Linus had his hair cut to a fifties style, dyed black, and finally combed. But that style fit Kent and didn’t fit Linus since he was in his late seventies. But he figured he had to do it as a disguise.
Linus closed the time machine door and ran through the barn to the barn door.
The time machine still has a glow, providing light for Linus to run through the dark barn.
He stood by the barn door and watched while the time machine started to hum.
It started to hum louder.
Hundreds of beams of bright blue lights shot out horizontally from the rear of the machine. These beams of bright blue light started to rotate
counterclockwise, swirling motion while the rear saucer started spinning.
Beams of bright green lights shot up horizontally from the base. These beams of green lights start swirling while the base starts to spin the machine clockwise.
The machine spun faster and faster, with the blue and green lights starting to swirl together and turning to a soothing cyan color.
The cyan light exploded, and it was pure white for a split second and vanished. Nothing but a cyan-colored circle remained on the dirt floor of the barn.
He tried to open the barn door. It was locked.
“Crap, I forgot,” he said, glancing around the barn and recalling something.
He rushed to the side door and gave it a body slam. The door broke open, and Linus fell on his face outside the barn, crying in a little pain.
He got up and ran to the barn door.
He reached into his pants and removed his set of keys. He used a key and unlocked the Master lock, which was now brand new.
He opened the barn door and ran inside.
He ran to his Rambler, got inside, and used his key to start it up. He smiled, recalling those days in the fifties when he loved driving around in this car.
He backed the Rambler out of the barn, got out, and closed and locked the barn door.
He rushed back over and got inside the Rambler.
He drove away through his yard.
The lights of Linus’ house turned on.
While Linus drove his Rambler onto the street, younger Linus rushed out of his front door onto the porch with his double-barrel shotgun.
He ran to his barn and saw the barn door was locked. But something still bugged him, so he ran to the side door.
He saw the door busted open, so he cautiously stepped inside his barn with his shotgun, ready to defend himself from aliens.
He saw the barn was dark but noticed that same faint cyan-colored ring on the ground inside the barn.
He left and didn’t notice his Rambler was missing since the barn was dark inside.
He went back to his house and sat on the front porch. He thought those aliens would return and wanted to kill one to prove they existed.
It was Monday and seven in the morning.
Henry got in his fifty-seven Bel-Air squad car and did a morning patrol around town. He wanted to get his mind off this murder case.
Back at Linus’ home in 1957 Cambridge, he got dressed for another day of teaching at MIT.
He walked to the barn, unlocked the main door, then slid it open.
He stepped inside and walked on automatic pilot to where he normally parks his Rambler. But got a shock, as his prized Rambler was gone.
After a few double glances and walking around the spot, remembered parking yesterday, Linus’ eyes widened. “Aliens stole my Rambler. I know they did,”
he said while bolting out of the barn.
He returned to his house and called the police from his kitchen phone.
Twenty minutes had passed, and Officer Sammy Harrison from the Cambridge police department arrived. They normally take their time when Linus calls, but they knew he would call every ten minutes if they didn’t go to his house.
Linus soon walked Officer Harrison to his barn, where the door remained open.
“See, my Rambler is missing,” said Linus once they stepped inside his barn.
Officer Harrison saw a car was not inside the barn and couldn’t understand why anybody would want to steal a Rambler. “Okay, what time did you notice your Rambler was missing?”
“When I tried to head off to work this morning.
Twenty minutes ago,” said Linus, then hesitated for a few seconds. “I did hear something in my barn around
two in the morning. I investigated and found someone kicked open my barn’s side door.”
Officer Harrison saw that the side door to the barn was opened, so he walked through the barn to check it out.
Officer Harrison noticed the door was forced open. “It appears that that door was kicked open from the inside. If it was done from the outside, there would be pieces of the door inside the barn. But there aren’t. It’s all located outside,” he said.
Linus looked at the door and knew the officer was correct.
“Do you lock the barn door?”
“I always do.”
“Was it locked when you noticed your Rambler was missing?”
“It was. That’s why I didn’t suspect my Rambler was gone last night.”
“Mmm, how could someone get inside a locked barn, kick down the side door from the inside, then run around to the barn door and unlock it from the outside. Steal your Rambler, then re-lock the barn door?” he said, then got suspicious of Linus. “That doesn’t make sense, but I’ll go ahead and file a report.
What’s your tag number?” he asked, removing a small pad of paper and a pen from his shirt pocket.
“Oh, I don’t remember,” said Linus while approaching the squad car.
“We can’t search for your car without a tag number.”
Linus tried to recall it. His eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, it’s seven, four, nine, A, S, P,” he said.
Officer Harrison wrote that number down on his pad of paper and shoved them back into his shirt pocket. “We’ll be in touch the second we locate your car,” said Officer Harrison while he walked to the driver’s door.
He got inside his car, cranked up the engine, turned around, and drove to the street.
Linus returned to his house and called a coworker who lived three streets over. He asked for a ride to work. When Officer Harrison got back to the station, he talked with his boss about Linus’ car being stolen. He thought that maybe he was trying some insurance scam.
They decided to wait to see if Linus would get an insurance check on his Rambler.
Meanwhile, way west of Philadelphia, old Linus drove the Rambler south on U.S. 1. He was hesitant on speeding on his way to Georgia, as being pulled over by the police might ruin his mission.
Back down in Warner Robins, Kent was being escorted out of his cell by Officer Peabody and into the office area of the station.
“Are you ready to see the judge?” he said, Detective Chambers.
Kent remained quiet.
“Let’s take this turd to see Judge Toole,” said Detective Chambers.
The three left the station.
Officer Peabody drove Detective Chambers Bel-Air with him in the back with Kent.
It was a quiet ride over to the courthouse.
Meanwhile, way up north, Linus drove his Rambler south on U.S. 1 and filled the car with gas. He was two hours from Washington, D.C.
Back down at the Warner Robins Courthouse, Kent stood in front of eighty-year-old Judge Barney Toole in one of the two courtrooms at the courthouse.
“You, Mister Kent Hollister, are being charged with first-degree murder; how do you plead?”
“I’m innocent,” said Kent.
“No, I need to say either guilty, not guilty, or no contest. All the criminals that stand before me claim they’re innocent.”
“Not guilty,” said Kent.
“Good; your trial will start on Monday, September ninth. You’ll remain in the custody of the Warner Robins police department until then. No bail.”
“No bail?” said Kent and looked worried. “Why?”
“There will be no bail. You are being charged with killing a young teenager. I will not let you loose in my town so you can go around killing the God-fearing people of Warner Robins,” said Judge Toole with a stern look.
“I won’t harm a soul. I promise,” pleaded Kent.
“That’s what they all say,” said Judge Toole. Then he used his gravel and hit the small block of wood.
“Get him out of my courtroom,” he said as he despised murderers.
Officer Peabody escorted Kent out of the courtroom with Detective Chambers trailing behind.
Officer Peabody placed Kent back in their squad.
Detective Chambers got in the back with Kent while Officer Peabody got behind the car’s wheel.
Officer Peabody drove back to the police station.
It was high noon.
Back at the Warner Robins police station, Kent ate his lunch, which consisted of a bologna sandwich, Lays potato chips, and a Coke.
Meanwhile, Linus drove his Rambler up north on U.S. 1 in Virginia, and was about an hour away from the North Carolina border. His stops were only for gas, bathroom breaks, and a take-out for meals. He didn’t want to waste any time getting down to Warner Robins.
Back in Warner Robins, Henry drove his Bel-Air squad car to the front gate of Robins Air Force Base.
He stopped at the guard gate where Derek Allen was again manning the front gate.
Derek’s eyes widened when they noticed Henry remembering him from yesterday.
“I’m here on official police business,” Henry told Derek.
“Yes, sir. Please proceed,” said Derek.
He watched while Henry’s fifty-seven squad car drove off into the base. He smiled at the thought that maybe that police officer was investigating his boss Grant Bowers.
Henry drove his squad through the streets of the Air Force base. He’s been here numerous times and knows his way around the place.
He eventually found the Logistics building and pulled into the parking lot. He parked his car, got out, and headed to the office.
Once Henry got inside the office, he saw a counter. Behind it was a desk, where sat a busty blonde lady. “Are you Ashley Cooper?” he said while walking to the counter.
“Why, yes I am,” said Ashley, and she got a little nervous wondering why a Warner Robins police officer was here at work asking for her. She got up from her desk and walked to the counter with a sway in her curvy hips.
“How may I help you, Officer?” she said, a little nervous.
“I’m Henry Hollister, and I need to ask you one question.”
“Sure, ask away.”
“Were you with Grant Bowers on Thursday morning at the Peach Tree diner for breakfast?”
That question caught her by surprise. “Why yes,”
she said, then blushed, recalling the blowjob she gave Grant in the parking lot in his T-Bird.
Henry thought about asking her more questions but could tell by her blush she was embarrassed. And that was enough for him. “Thank you. That’s all I
need,” he said, then turned around and walked to the door. Ashley thought that that was odd and such a simple question to ask her. But she was nervous and waited until Henry was gone, then rushed back to her desk and made a call.
“Lieutenant Bowers,” Grant said, answering the call. “It’s me, Ashley,” she said in a low voice to make sure nobody could hear her and glanced over her shoulder to make sure nobody could see hear her.
“Yes, baby,” said Grant.
“I just had a Warner Robins police officer, Henry Hollister, here to see me. He wanted to know if I was with you at the Peach Tree diner on Thursday morning.
What’s going on? Should I be nervous about something?”
“No, baby. Henry’s a friend of mine. He’s closing up some loose ends with the murder of Colonel Abbott’s daughter.”
“What? What does eating breakfast at the diner have to do with her murder?” said Ashley and she started to shake, scared she would be arrested.
“It appears that that murder suspect was eating breakfast at the diner at the same time we were there,”
said Grant. “You have nothing to worry about. Trust me.” “But how did we get involved?”
“Well, apparently, this suspect, who is a loon, tried to say I killed that Abbott girl.”
“Why would he say that?”
“Because he’s a kook. Certified whack job.”
Ashley didn’t know what to make of all this.
“Okay, I better return to work and hang up her phone.
She swore to stay clear of Grant, as she suddenly didn’t trust him.
She returned back to her paperwork, but her hands started to shake. She grabbed her pack of
Winston’s, removed a cigarette, and lit it. She took a drab to calm down her nerves. “I’ll never see him again,” she quietly said after exhaling smoke.
Back at the Air Police office on base, Grant was behind his desk, and that phone call from Ashley made him wonder if Henry was starting to suspect him of Angie’s murder.
It was now early evening, and Linus stopped in southern South Carolina to fill up the car, get a quick dinner and rest for an hour. His legs were getting tired, and he figured his car also used a rest.
Back down in Warner Robins, Kent was eating his dinner. Tonight it consisted of four pieces of fried chicken: a breast, thigh, and two drumsticks, mashed potatoes, corn, and sweet iced tea.
It was now eight that evening, and Linus drove into Warner Robins.
He pulled his Rambler into the Peach Tree Motor Court and parked by the office. Linus knew to get a room at this place because the history books stated this was where Angie’s murderer stayed while in town.
He got out of his Rambler and went inside the motor court office.
Linus walked up to the front desk, where Ernie was again the night clerk.
“May I help you?” said Ernie from behind the desk. “Why yes, I need a room for, oh, let’s say, three nights,” said Linus.
“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” said Ernie, and he slid a small registration form and pencil across the counter for Linus to fill out.
Linus filled out the form. “Bond, Linus Bond,” I thought while putting down his name. After all, he was a huge James Bond fan from the books and felt like he was on a secret mission.
Ernie accepted his payment and gave him the key to Room 14.
Linus left the counter and headed to the door.
He left the office and headed back to his Rambler.
He cranked up his Rambler and put it in reverse, then hesitated for a few seconds. A huge yawn. “Too late for that. I’ll have to go first thing in the morning,”
he said, then backed up and drove to his room.
He got out of his Rambler and went inside Room 14. Once inside, he stripped down to his tee shirt and underwear. He was dead tired from the long drive from the north.
He got under the sheets and was fast asleep.
Snoring.
At the police station, Kent was also sound asleep in his jail cell.
At Henry’s home, he was drinking a can of Black Label beer in the living room.
Brenda was watching I Love Lucy on the TV.
Young Kent was already in bed.
Henry didn’t pay attention to the TV as his mind was on Angie’s murder case. Something still bugged him about this case. This case is way too easy. He thought while he took another sip of his Black Label beer. Way too easy.
He couldn’t stop thinking about this case being too easy. Then he remembered that strange driver’s license with that nineteen eighty issue date and the picture of Kent with long dishwater blonde hair. Then remembered that incident back in forty-nine when he was stationed with Grant in the Army.
“I’m going back to the station,” he said while he got up off the couch.
“Why?” Brenda said this was unusual for Henry, who loved being home for the evenings except during softball season.
“I need to check on something. If I don’t go, I’ll stay awake all night thinking about it,” he said, then walked out of the living room.
Brenda shrugged that off and knew Angie Abbott’s murder was the talk of the town. She started laughing at something goofy Lucy did on the show.
Henry left his house, got inside his fifty-one Bel-Air, cranked up the car, and backed down his driveway.
He drove off down the street.
Ten minutes had passed, and he parked in the parking lot of the police station.
He got out of the car and went inside.
Henry stood by the front desk and smiled, noticing Officers Malone and Smith asleep with their shoes propped up on their desks.
“Like clockwork,” he said with a light chuckle, then tiptoed through the office area and headed to the jail cells’ hallway.
Henry approached Kent’s cell and saw him asleep on his cell bunk. “Psst. Kent,” he said but not too loud to wake up Officers Steward and Smith. Kent didn’t wake up. “Psst. Kent,” he said again, but this time a tad louder.
Kent woke up and looked around for that sound.
His eyes widened when he spotted his daddy standing at his cell bars.
He got off his bed and walked over to the cell bars. He didn’t know what to say.
“So tell me. What happened on Saturday night down by Meyers’ cabin?” said Henry. “I know you told Detective Chambers, but I want to hear from you myself.”
Kent looked at his daddy, and he could tell by his eyes that there might be a slight chance that he was on his side. “Well, I went to Meyers’ cabin with my movie camera. I just got it and wanted to film the cabin for a documentary on old man Meyers.”
“Okay.”
“I heard voices. Two voices sounded like they were in a heated argument. So I hid in some bushes to
spy on them. I saw Grant and Angie in the clearing,”
said Kent.
“Okay, then what?”
“The argument got heated, so I decided to film them.” “Why not, I just got the camera, and at the moment, it felt like the right thing to do.”
“What were they arguing about?”
“Angie wanted Grant to marry him because he got her pregnant. He said he wouldn’t marry her, and she got furious.”
“Then what?”
“She said she would tell her daddy and that he would imprison Grant for the rest of her life. She slapped him. He slapped her, and she fell on her rear end. She screamed at him. He got furious and started to strangle her.”
“How did you know Angie?”
“I remembered her from Thursday, as she gave me a ride to the Peach Tree Motor Court from the Piggly Wiggly.”
“Why did she do that?”
“Well, I went into the Piggly Wiggly on Thursday and bought a box of Fig Newtons. When I left the store, it started to rain. She was leaving work, and offered me a ride to the Peach Tree Motor Court.”
“Did you?”
“Oh no, she dropped me off at the motor court, then I went straight to my room while she drove away.”
“Okay, get back to Grant strangling her.”
“Since she was so kind and gave me a ride, I had to intervene. So I yelled for Grant to stop and ran over to them.”
And?”
“He punched me in the forehead, and I passed out. When I woke up, I saw Angie naked, her clothes on the ground near her, and Grant was gone. I stood frozen and not knowing what to do. Then one of your
cop cars showed up, and your officers arrested me.
And here I sit.”
Henry nodded that he understood Kent’s story.
“I swear, I didn’t kill Angie Abbott. Grant did!”
Kent’s eyes welled up. “My movie camera and film cartridges are probably still in those bushes. That will validate my story and prove I’m innocent. You have to go get it,” pleaded Kent.
Henry looked into Kent’s eyes, and a strange feeling came over him. He had the same exact feeling as when he looked at a young Kent. “I’ll see what I can do.” Henry walked away and headed to the office area.
He approached the counter and grabbed a log book by the phone. It was the log that documented incoming phone calls. He opened the book to Saturday’s calls.
He looked at Saturday’s calls and found one for an unidentified caller. The log stated that a hiker had seen a man trying to kill a teenager by Meyers’ cabin. The hiker refused to provide his name, stating he was fearful for his life.
Henry closed the log, and for the first time since he knew Grant, he didn’t trust him.
Henry left the station, and Officers Malone and Smith still didn’t notice here were there as they were still snoring at their desks.
Henry drove home, deciding he needed some digging into this case. He didn’t want an innocent man to fry for murder.
Tuesday morning arrived.
Linus woke up at six in his Motor Court room.
He took a shower and then got dressed in his black suit with a black Fedora hat.
He stood by the mirror in the room and practiced what he would say. He went over it again and again for three minutes.
He felt confident it would go down without a hitch and left his room.
He got in his Rambler, cranked it up, backed up, and drove through the parking lot. He stopped his car.
“Crap,” he said, as he forgot something.
He backed his Rambler up and parked by the motor court office.
He exited his Rambler, leaving the engine running while he headed to the office.
“I need directions,” he said while rushing to the counter.
“Where do you need to go?”
“Your police station. I have official business there and left my directions up at my office in Boston.”
“That’s easy. Make a left out of here. Head down that street and turn right on Broadview. Head down Broadview, then turn left on Third Avenue. The station is down off Third Avenue,” said the clerk. “You can’t miss it.”
“Left out of here. Right on Broadview. Left on Third Avenue. Got it,” said Linus, then he rushed out of the office and returned to his Rambler.
He drove away and turned left on Route 12 out in front.
At the police station, Henry walked out and headed to his squad car, looking like he was on a very important mission.
He got in his car and drove through the lot.
He made a right turn on Third and drove away.
Back inside the police station, Officer Peabody munched on his third glazed donut while reading The Telegraph newspaper. He saw the article about Kent being charged with the murder of Angie Abbott and his mug shot. He grabbed the newspaper and got up from his desk.
He strutted off down the jail cell hallway.
Kent sat on his bunk, staring at the concrete wall again. He realized that today was Tuesday. The day he was supposed to be back on the Greyhound bus heading north to Boston. He started counting the concrete blocks in the wall to kill time.
“You’re in The Telegraph,” said Officer Peabody when he approached the cell bars.
Kent got off the bunk and walked to the cell bars, where Officer Peabody held up the newspaper. He saw his mug shot in the article.
“You’re famous,” said Officer Peabody walking away chucking.
“You’re famous,” said Kent in a fake southern accent mocking Officer Peabody while he returned to his bunk. “Officer Jelly Donut,” he said while sitting back down on his bunk.
He returned to counting the concrete blocks on the opposite wall once he sat down.
On the streets, Linus followed the clerk’s directions and drove down Broadview.
Henry turned his car off Third Avenue and headed down Broadview while Linus turned onto Third Avenue.
Linus drove down Third Avenue, and it wasn’t long before he made a left turn into the entrance of the police station.
He parked his car and then turned off the engine.
He sat there and practiced his lines a few more times. He took a deep breath to calm down his nerves.
“I sure hope I don’t end up in jail down here,” he said while opening his car door, having a shadow of a doubt.
He got out, closed the door, and stared at the front entrance of the police station. “Well, I came this far; no sense turning back.” Linus headed to the doors.
Meanwhile, Henry drove his squad car down Route 12, heading toward the Air Force base.
Back at the police station, Linus stood at the counter.
Officer Lester Peabody walked up to the counter.
“May I help you, sir?”
Linus looked at the portly police officer with donut crumbs on his shirt, glazed sugar circling his mouth and decorating his shin. He refrained from laughing. “Yes, officer,” said Linus while he reached into the right pocket of his suit jacket and flashed a fake FBI badge.
“I’m Agent Bond, Linus Bond, with the FBI up in Boston. We heard that you have a Kent Hollister locked up down here.”
Officer Peabody’s eyes lit up with excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet a real FBI Agent. “Yes, sir.
He’s wanted for the murder of a teenage girl.”
“Well, I have orders from my FBI bosses to extradite Mister Hollister back to Boston immediately.
He escaped from Federal prison up there last week.
We’ve been looking all over the country for him,” Linus said, then shoved his badge back into his suit pocket.
“Federal prison, ah, what for?”
“He was heavily involved with the Boson mob.
Hiding money for them and then skimmed some off the top. And if I don’t get him back up there, the mob will come down here searching for him.”
“The mob? You mean the real Mafia?”
“Yes, I do, Officer Peabody, and you know that they don’t mind shooting first, then asking questions if you live. So it would be safer for your quiet town if I sneak him back up to Boston and back to his Federal prison cell.”
“Whoa!” Officer Peabody replied with widened eyes. Linus realized he got lucky with an easy prey.
“But what about his trial down here for murder?”
Linus thought for a few seconds. “The FBI can sneak him back down here for that trial.”
“Okay, let me get the proper paperwork,” said Officer Peabody, and he looked at the counter and found a release form. He grabbed one and handed it to Linus. “Fill out this form,” Officer Peabody said while he handed Linus a pen.
Linus started filling out the form.
Meanwhile, Henry drove his squad car down the dirt road that led to Meyers’ cabin.
He parked near the clearing, shut off the engine then got out, scanning the area. A smile grew on his face. He headed over to those two bushes Kent mentioned.
Back at the police station, Linus finished filling out that release form.
Officer Peabody glanced over the form. “This looks to be in proper order,” he said, placing the form in the “In” box for filing.
“I’ll go get your prisoner,” said Officer Peabody, and he walked away.
Kent sat in his cell, wishing he would soon be executed. He couldn’t take being locked up in this small cell much longer.
“You’re being released,” said Officer Peabody when he approached Kent’s cell bars.
“What? Released? How?” said Kent while he bolted off his bunk and over to the jail cell door. He thought that maybe they had found his movie camera in those bushes.
“An FBI Agent’s here to take you back to Federal prison in Massachewits.”
“Mass a what?” said Kent trying not to laugh, as this was the only funny moment since his arrest.
“Massachewits, you know Boston.”
“Federal prison in Massachewits?” said Kent mocking Officer Peabody.
“Yes, we didn’t know you escaped from one,” said Officer Peabody while he unlocked the door.
“Neither did I,” Kent said under his breath.
“Did you say something?”
“I didn’t know I was in Federal prison.”
“Don’t play dumb with me. I know the Boston mob is after you,” said Officer Peabody while he unlocked Kent’s cell door.
“The Boston mob is after me?” Kent mouthed the words, totally confused with what was happening while standing in the cell door doorway.
“Let’s go,” said Officer Peabody, and he grabbed Kent by his bicep and escorted him down the hallway and into the office area.
Kent’s eyes widened the second he walked out.
Officer Peabody noticed an older man in a black suit and Fedora hat at the front counter. He thought he was in deep yogurt, and the FBI came here to take him away. But he couldn’t figure out how they learned about him and why he was being confused for a Federal inmate.
“Here’s your man, Mister FBI,” said Officer Peabody, as he forgot Linus’ name.
Linus took his Fedora hat off his head.
Kent looked at the FBI Agent and didn’t recognize that it was Linus.
“Thank you, Officer Peabody,” said Linus. “I’ll take this piece of trash back to Boston and then back to his cell in Federal Prison in Massachusetts.” “I’ll also make sure I’ll tell Mister Hoover how cooperative you were down here, Officer Peabody.”
Officer Peabody puffed out his chest while Kent walked around the counter.
“You know the drill, Mister Hollister,” said Linus while removing a pair of handcuffs from his left suit pocket.
Kent placed his hands behind his back, and Linus handcuffed his friend. But there was something about this FBI Agent that felt very familiar.
“Thank you again, Officer Peabody. You’re a top-notch police officer,” said Linus. “Let’s get you back home, Mister Hollister,” he said, then opened the front door. Linus and Kent left the station.
Kent got nervous, as he couldn’t figure out how the FBI suddenly wanted him and thought he was an escaped Federal prisoner. This trip majorly backfired!
Once they got outside, they remained quiet while Linus escorted Kent to his Rambler.
Kent saw that Rambler, and it looked extremely familiar. Where have I seen this car? Then it dawned on him. He saw one like this at old Linus’ farm in Cambridge. It was under the tarp in the barn in nineteen eighty and then not under a tarp in fifty-seven.
He looked at that FBI Agent.
Linus winked at Kent.
It dawned on Kent that this FBI Agent was his old pal Linus. He came to rescue him and sighed a sigh of relief.
Officer Peabody stepped outside, curious and wanting to watch an FBI Agent at work. In fact, he always wanted to be a G-Man, but the FBI always refused his application. He thought that maybe now he had a chance with Agent Bond’s recommendation.
Linus opened the Rambler’s front passenger door, set Kent in the front seat, and closed the door.
He rushed around and opened up the driver’s door. His eyes widened in fear when he saw Officer Peabody standing by the front of the Rambler. “That doesn’t look like an FBI car,” said Officer Peabody, who looked a little confused.
Linus felt caught and tried to think of a believable response. “Of course, it’s not an FBI car. If I were to make sure I could safely sneak him back to Boston, a real FBI car would stick out like a sore thumb. So, this is my disguised undercover car.”
Officer Peabody thought about Linus’ response and walked around to the rear of the Rambler. He saw the Massachusetts tag. “Right. Makes sense to me,” he said, walking over to Linus.
“A G-Man has to be sneaky,” said Linus. “Very sneaky.”
“Right, very sneaky, got it.”
“Consider that’s your first lesson on being an FBI Agent or G-Man, as we say, up in Boston.”
Officer Peabody smiled and was proud. “My first lesson as a G-Man,” he quietly said, puffing out his chest. A G-Man has to be sneaky. Very sneaky!”
“Well, officer, I better get my prisoner on the road.”
“Yes, sir,” Officer Peabody said and saluted Linus.
Linus bit his lip so he wouldn’t bust out laughing.
He returned a salute, then got behind the wheel of the Rambler and closed the door.
He cranked up his Rambler, watched while Officer Peabody walked away, and headed to the station’s front door. “Now, that officer definitely isn’t the fastest bullet in that police department,” said Linus.
Kent chuckled. “They also need an exercise program in that department.”
Kent cringed in a little pain from the handcuffs. “I hope you brought the keys for these things.”
“Of course,” said Linus reaching in his left suit pocket. He removed a small key and looked to make sure Officer Peabody wasn’t nearby. So he unlocked and removed the handcuffs off Kent’s wrists.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” said Kent. “I didn’t recognize you until I saw your Rambler.”
“I had to change my look. So, what happened?”
said Linus while he backed the Rambler out of the parking space and drove out of the parking lot.
“Well, I was filming Grant strangling Angie Abbott. I couldn’t let her die, so I yelled for him to stop and ran over to them.”
Linus drove off down Third Avenue and then glanced over at Kent. “I told you not to change the event for that girl. She’s supposed to die. Now look what happened,” said Linus while he drove out of the parking lot and made a right turn onto Third.
“I know. You did say that. But I couldn’t help it.
I accidentally met her on Thursday and Friday, and she was such a sweet girl,” said Kent.
“Well, she’s still dead, so at least that didn’t change,” said Linus.
“I know, but now they think I killed Angie. It was Grant. He managed to frame me for her murder instead of my daddy.”
“I know. You’re in the history books back in eighty.” “So, how did he frame you?”
“I ran up to Angie and Grant, and he punched me hard in my forehead. I passed out. When I woke up, Angie was on the ground near me. Clothes ripped off, naked and dead. And Grant was long gone. Then one of the Warner Robins cop cars showed up. And since I was standing by her naked body, they automatically assumed I killed her.”
“Yeah, the history books did state that. Also, you had your trial on the same dates as your dad.
“And nineteen sixty?”
“The history books also showed you were executed that day in nineteen sixty instead of your dad.
That’s why I had to return and attempt to get you out of his mess.”
“I’m so happy you did.”
Linus looked curious. “But if you filmed it. You did film it?”
“I did.”
“So, where’s the film?”
“The film cartridges are in some bushes outside my Meyers’ cabins. Nobody believed me.”
“Too bad.”
Kent’s eyes lit up. “Why don’t we go back to Meyers’ cabin, back to those bushes, and get those film cartridges. They’ll prove I’m innocent and Grant Bowers is guilty.”
“We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Well, I lied about being an FBI Agent, and it would be better if we get twenty-one years away from here.”
Kent’s eyes widened in a little fear. “Shit!”
“What now?”
“They have my driver’s license,” said Kent.
“Well, we can’t go back for that now. We don’t have a choice. We have to head back to nineteen eighty.”
It remained quiet in the Rambler while Linus turned left onto Route 12.
Linus’ eyes lit up. “We go back to nineteen eighty, use the time machine to go back in time just before you came back here, and stop the trip.”
Kent thought about his suggestion for a few seconds. “But my dad will still be executed.”
“I know, but just think, there’s no statute of limitations on murder. Someone could still come after you in nineteen eighty. You’ll look the same as you do now, and someone might say you had plastic surgery as a disguise. Remember they have your driver’s license, address, and a nineteen eighties date.”
Kent thought about his proposal for a few seconds. “I guess you’re right. We need to reverse this whole episode. It’s the only way,” he said and sounded disappointed. Still, he was glad he got to see his daddy again. At the same age, he remembered as a kid. He smiled at that memory.
Linus’ eyes lit up with an idea. “Unless we get to Macon, we call a reporter from the local newspaper.
Tell him about the film camera, and tell him that if he gets it developed, it will show the real killer of Angie.
It will show Grant killing her,” he said, and the more he thought about it, the more he liked that plan.
“That might work.”
“Then they won’t be looking for you as an escaped murderer and arrest Grant,” said Linus.
“They’ll believe I’m in that Federal prison,” Kenty replied, then thought about the plan for a few seconds.
“Let’s do it. That’s my only hope.”
Linus smiled over his plan while he drove down Route 12.
Meanwhile, back at Meyers’ cabin, Henry searched through those bushes and smiled when he spotted the case for a Bell and Howell movie camera stuffed at the bottom. He also spotted the used film cartridge.
He checked inside the bushes and found a Bell and Howell movie camera nestled on some branches.
“He was telling the truth,” he said while he picked up the film cartridge and the Bell and Howell movie camera and case. He put the camera back in the case.
He returned to his squad car, got behind the wheel, and cranked up the engine.
He turned his car around and drove back down the dirt road.
He turned on Route 12 and headed back into town. Detective Chambers arrived at the station to start his work shift.
“How’s our piece of shit, prisoner?” he said while he walked up to the coffee pot.
“Oh, he off with that FBI agent,” said Officer Peabody while Detective Chambers poured a cup of coffee.
“What the fuck did you say?” said Detective Peabody while he continued to pour his first cup of coffee.
“An FBI Agent from Boston came here this morning.”
“FBI Agent? What FBI Agent?”
“An FBI Agent from Boston. He said Kent Hollister was an escaped Federal prisoner. He said the Boston Mafia also wanted Kent. If he didn’t take him back to Federal prison in Massachewsits, the Boston Mafia would come down here to get him. And they’ll be shooting first, then asking questions if we live.”
“What fucking FBI Agent?” yelled Detective Chambers, who kept pouring coffee into his cup and didn’t realize it was overflowing.
“I forgot his name, but it’s on the release form,”
said Officer Peabody, pointing to the “In” box on the counter.
“Shit!” yelled Detective Peabody the second he realized he had coffee all over the counter and started to rain over the table’s edge. He put the coffee pot back and ran over to the counter.
He grabbed the release form from the “In” box and ran to his desk. “Did you ever think that this might be fake for a second?” he said while sitting at his desk.
“Ah, no, he’s not fake. His Rambler had a Massachewits tag.” “And that Massachewits accent, Pack the car, accent.”
Detective Chambers wanted to correct Lester on the way to say Massachusetts but figured it would be a waste of his time. “Rambler, what the fuck do you mean, Rambler?”
“His car was a green Rambler. Fifty-one model, I believe,” said Officer Peabody.
“Green Rambler. Now, why the fuck would an FBI Agent be driving a green fucking Rambler?” said Detective Chambers in a raised voice.
Beads of sweat formed on Officer Peabody’s forehead. “He said because using an FBI car would stick out like a sore thumb. You know, so the Boston Mafia won’t see them,” Officer Peabody said quietly.
“What did you say?”
“He said because using an FBI car would stick out like a sore thumb. You know, so the Boston Mafia won’t see them,” Officer Peabody said a little louder.
Detective Chambers gave Officer Peabody a look like he wanted to kill him. He started reading the form while Officer Peabody started trembling, knowing he had screwed up.
“Only the Chief ’s allowed to authorize this, and he’s still fishing in South Carolina.” Detective Chambers said while he picked up the phone and dialed the “zero” number.
“Operator.”
“Yes, I need the number for the FBI office up in Boston,” he said into the phone and had a pen and paper ready.
“That number is area code six, one, seven, five, five, five, eight, eight, seven, six,” said the female operator from the phone. Detective Chambers jotted down that number. “Thanks,” he said, disconnected that call, and dialed the number she gave him.
“Federal Bureau of Investigations, Boston field office, Agent Williamson. How may I help you?” said Agent Williamson from the phone.
“Yes, Agent Williamson. I’m Detective Chambers from the Warner Robin police department down in Georgia.”
“How may I help you, Detective Chambers?”
“Well, we have a situation down here. We had a murder suspect in custody. Then a man claimed to be an FBI Agent from Boston this morning and said he had to take our suspect back to Boston. He said the guy escaped from a Federal prison in Massachusetts. I would like to verify this.”
“What’s the agent’s name?”
“Linus Bond.”
“And the name of your murder suspect?”
“Kent Hollister.”
“Let me check with my superiors. That agent’s name doesn’t sound familiar, but I don’t know them all.
I’ll call you right back.”
“No, Agent Williamson. I need to know right away as my suspect is considered an escapee and on the run as far as I’m concerned.”
“Understand; I’ll put you on hold.”
Detective Chambers waited.
Meanwhile, Henry didn’t drive back to the police station. Instead, he drove over to Clint’s Camera store.
“Hey, Clint,” said Henry when he entered the store and saw old Clint behind the counter.
“Henry, what brings you here?”
“I need your help in a big way.”
“What kind of help?”
“I need this movie film developed right away,” he said, placing the used film cartridge on the counter.
“And there’s another one inside this camera,” he said, placing the Bell and Howell camera case on the counter.
Clint opened up the case and removed the Bell and Howell camera. He looked the camera over, and something about it felt odd. “This is really strange.”
“How’s that?”
“Well, I know all the Bell and Howell products like the back of my hand. This model doesn’t exist.”
“Doesn’t exit? What do you mean it doesn’t exist?”
“They don’t make a model like this,” he said while he figured out how to open up the camera and remove the film cartridges. He looked at both of them.
“These cartridges are also not what I’ve seen before.”
“Enough of that; I really need the film in those cartridges developed immediately.”
“Why?”
“It’s part of that murder case. You know, the Air Force teenager dependent killed Saturday night by Meyers’ cabin.”
“You don’t say. Evidence?”
“Correct.”
“I can take it up to Macon. They should be able to have it ready tomorrow. Might charge double for express, express service,” said Clint.
“We’ll pay it.”
“Okay, I’ll close up shop and immediately take it up there.”
“Thanks, Clint. This is very important to the case.” “Don’t worry. I’m always here to help,” said Clint.
While Clint started closing up shop, Henry left.
He got back inside his squad car and drove back to the station.
Back at the station, Detective Chambers was still at his desk, being on hold with the FBI.
“Detective Chambers,” said Agent Williamson after he got back on the phone.
“I checked with my superiors. They made a few calls, and we don’t have an agent by the name of Linus
Bond. He’s a fake. And also, we don’t have a Federal prison here in Massachusetts. And Kent Hollister doesn’t appear to be an inmate of our Federal prison system. Someone bullshitted your department, Detective. They pulled a fast one. A real fast one,”
said Agent Williamson, hinting he enjoyed telling a southern cop they were duped.
Detective Chambers was furious and about to blow a gasket. “Thank you,” he said and hung up the phone. “FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” he yelled, throwing a temper tantrum in his seat and pounding his fists on his desk.
Officer Peabody cringed as he knew he screwed up royally and would be fired as soon as the Chief returned to the station tomorrow morning.
Detective Chambers bolted up from his desk.
“I’m going after them,” he said while he bolted through the office area heading to the front door.
Officer Peabody wanted to cry while Detective Chambers left the station.
Back on the streets, Linus pulled his Rambler into a small gas station five miles north of Warner Robbins.
The tank was almost empty, and he was glad he had come upon this station.
“What’ll it be?” said Elroy, the old owner of Elroy’s Gas Station and Car Repair.
“Fill up the tank.”
“Regular or ethyl?” said old man Elroy who had permanent grease under his fingernails from working on cars for the past fifty years.
“Regular,” said Linus knowing that would save a few bucks.
“Okay,” said Elroy, and he saw Kent in the passenger seat, and there was something familiar about this guy. But he couldn’t place a finger in it at the moment, so he went over to the pump.
Elroy put the hose nozzle into the fill line, and while gas started flowing into the tank, he took a peek
at the rear tag. “Damn Yankee,” he quietly said. He didn’t care for anybody from the north, as his granddaddy fought with the Confederate Army. And he was proud of that piece of family history.
While the Rambler was being filled with gas, Detective Chambers was heading north on Route 12 in his squad car.
After a few minutes, the Rambler was full of gas.
“That’ll be three and a half dollars,” said Elroy at Linus’ door.
Linus handed Elroy four dollars. Elroy reached into his pants pocket and removed two quarters. He handed them to Linus.
Linus cranked up his Rambler and drove off.
Elroy watched the Rambler pull onto Route 12
and went north.
He returned to his gas station and saw the stack of The Telegraph newspapers he was selling. There was something about that newspaper that got Elroy curious.
He picked up one newspaper and saw the article about Kent being charged with the murder of Angie Abbott. He saw Kent’s mug shot. It took a few seconds for it to sink in. “Well, I’ll be!” he said, rushing over to his cluttered desk and picking up his phone. He dialed the operator. “Get me the Warner Robins police station,” he said.
“Warner Robins police station,” Officer Peabody said, answering the call.
“Elroy here from Elroy’s Gas Station here on Route twelve,” he said into the phone.
“Yes, Elroy.”
“I just saw that,” said Elroy, then he glanced back at the newspaper. “I saw that killer kid here at my station a few minutes ago. He was with an older Yankee in a green Rambler. They got gas then headed north on Route twelve,” said Elroy, proud he ratted on a Yankee.
Back at Robins Air Force Base, Grant was behind his desk drinking coffee and picked up his copy of the Telegraph newspaper.
He glanced at the front page, and a huge smile appeared. He saw the article about Kent Hollister being charged with the murder of Angie Abbott.
He did a little victory dance in his chair, knowing he would never be charged with her murder.
He put the paper away, got up from behind his desk, left the building, and got in his Air Police Jeep.
Grant whistled a happy tune while he patrolled around the base.
It was still Tuesday morning.
Back on the streets of Warner Robins, Detective Chambers pulled his Bel-air into the Peach Tree Motor Court parking lot. He figured Linus and Kent would stop here to pick up Kent’s suit and those Greyhound tickets. The same tickets he found while searching Kent’s room.
But, he got concerned when he didn’t see a green Rambler parked at the motor court.
“Detective Chambers,” Officer Peabody said from the Motorola radio in the squad car.
He picked up the mike. “What now, Lester? Did President Eisenhower show up wanting to take away our prisoner?” he said into the radio mike.
“Ah, no, sir. But I did get a call from Elroy down at Elroy’s Gas Station up on Route twelve. He put gas in a green Rambler and recognized Kent and that fake FBI Agent. They headed north on Route twelve,” said Officer Peabody on the radio.
Detective Chambers dropped the radio mike and slammed his car into reverse.
The rear tires of the Bel-Air were smoking while Detective Chambers backed the car up, spinning it around. He slammed it into drive, and the tires smoked again while stomping on the accelerator.
Detective Chambers turned on his siren, and two round red lights were installed on the front bumper.
He made a screeching left turn out of the Peach Tree Motor Court’s parking lot onto Route 12.
A brand new yellow and white nineteen-fifty-seven Ford Fairlane screeched on its brakes and came inches from crashing into the rear of Detective
Chamber’s Bel-Air. The Fairlane driver’s heart stopped briefly, thinking about that scary close call.
The Fairlane driver refrained from cussing out the driver of the Bel-Air, as he knew it was Detective Chambers on an important mission. He was thankful he didn’t get in an accident with the new car he bought three weeks ago.
The driver of the Fairlane slowly drove off on Route 12, keeping an Eagle eye on the other drivers.
Way down Route 12, Linus drove his Rambler at the speed limit so he wouldn’t attract the attention of any other police officers. He reached over and turned on the AM radio. Then turned the tuner until a station was heard. It was station WNEX.
The song Gone by Ferlin Musky is played on the radio. “We probably won’t find any rock and roll in this part of the redneck hillbilly south,” said Linus.
“I know.”
It was a quiet drive down Route 12, and they figured they were in the clear.
Five minutes had passed, the Ferlin Musky song ended, and the DJ came on.
“We have breaking news from Warner Robins.
The murder suspect” said the DJ.
Hearing that perked Linus and Kent’s ears; they knew this wouldn’t be good.
“From the teenage Air Force dependent murder with a fake FBI Agent is on the run. Reports are they are heading north on Route twelve and in a green Rambler. Call the Macon police department if they are spotted,” said the DJ.
“Well, this puts us on another sticky wicket,” said Linus.
“I knew this was too,” said Kent, but he stopped completing his sentence when a siren was heard behind them. “Good to be true,” he finished and glanced over his shoulder.
Linus heard the siren, and he glanced in his rearview mirror. “Crap!” he said when he saw a black fifty-six Bel-Air with two blinking red lights on the front bumper. The Bel-Air was racing down the road at them. Linus stomped on the gas pedal.
Kent was pushed back in his seat from the rapid acceleration of the Rambler. He was surprised this dorky car had that much power.
The Rambler reached the speed of seventy miles per hour.
Linus glanced in his rearview mirror and saw the black Bel-Air gaining ground on his rear bumper.
Kent glanced around and saw the Bel-Air gaining ground. “Damn!”
The Rambler was now at eighty miles per hour, and the road started to get a little curvy.
Linus glanced at his rearview mirror, and the Bel-Air was five feet behind his car. He didn’t recognize the driver. “I don’t know this cop behind us.”
Kent turned around. He cringed when he saw the driver in his brown suit and brown Fedora hat. “It’s Detective Chambers from Warner Robins, and boy does he hate me,” he said and turned around. He crossed his fingers, hoping Linus could handle this Rambler at these high rates of speed.
Linus made a screeching turn when the road curved to the right. Kent grabbed the edge of the seat wishing the cars back in the fifties were installed with seat belts.
The Bel-Air made the same screeching turn on that same curve to the right.
Linus glanced at the rearview mirror and saw the Bel-Air was still hot on their rear.
Route 12 got a lot more country with no shoulder and nothing but pine and a few oak trees inches from the edge of the road. The palms of Linus and Kent’s hands started sweating.
The road curved to the right, and the Rambler and Bel-Air both took that curve with tires screeching.
The road was straight, but then it curved to the left. Linus did a great job handling that curve with his tires screeching, and he was proud of his driving capabilities and the Rambler.
“SHIT!” Kent yelled.
Linus looked at Kent, wondering what was wrong.
“TRUCK!” Kent yelled while pointing straight ahead.
Linus looked ahead, and his eyes widened in shock. An old truck with a bed full of peach baskets broke down in the middle of the road.
Linus slammed on his brakes. Kent was flown forward, and his forehead slammed into the metal dashboard. He slumped down in his seat.
The Rambler fishtailed all over the road and side, causing Kent’s head to bang on the doorsill.
The Rambler sideswiped the rear of that truck smashing into the rear passenger rear quarter of the Rambler.
The Bel-Air tires screeched to a stop, and it smashed into the other rear quarter panel of the Rambler.
It was quiet inside the Rambler except for the There You Go song by Johnny Cash on the radio.
Linus pressed on the gas pedal to see if he could get away. The Rambler didn’t budge far, and the only sound heard was the sound of metal scrapping against the rear of that truck.
“Get out with your hands in the air,” Detective Chambers yelled outside Linus’ driver’s door.
Linus looked over and saw Kent slumped over in his seat. He thought he was dead.
Linus turned off the engine, opened his door, and cautiously stepped out with his hands in the air.
“Kent’s hurt,” he said while standing by his car and
noticed Detective Chambers had blood running down his face from a cut in the middle of his forehead.
Detective Chambers removed a set of handcuffs from his suit pocket. “Turn around, put your hands behind your back. If you run, I’ll put a bullet in the middle of your back,” he said.
“I won’t run,” said Linus obeying his orders.
Detective Chambers handcuffed Linus and then forced him to sit in the road.
He went inside the Rambler and felt Kent’s neck.
“He’s alive. He just knocked out,” he said, then got out of the car.
“Stay put,” he said while he went to his Bel-Air.
He sat inside and grabbed the radio mike. “Detective Chambers here. Come in, HQ,” he said into the radio.
“Go, Detective Chambers,” said Officer Peabody from the radio.
“I’m here north on Route 12, about five miles south of Macon. I need an ambulance and a squad car here to pick another prisoner and me up,” he said into his radio mike. “I also need two tow trucks.”
“Got it. Did you catch them?” said Officer Peabody.
“I did, but we crashed.”
“In work,” said Officer Peabody from the radio.
Detective Chambers got out of his Bel-Air and walked over to Linus.
“You alright?” said an old farmer dressed in overalls when he walked over to the rear of his truck after it was safe.
“Yes. You okay?” said Detective Chambers.
“Yeah, scared the poop out of me, but I’m okay,”
said the old farmer while he rubbed the rear seat of his overalls. He saw Linus sitting in the road, handcuffed.
“Criminals?”
“Yep.”
The old farmer inched backward. “I’ll wait by the front of my truck,” he said, fearful of Linus.
The old farmer rushed away back to the front of his truck.
Detective Chambers stood guard by Linus.
Fifteen minutes passed, and a red nineteen fifty-six Oldsmobile ambulance from the hospital in Warner Robins arrived with its siren and red bubble gum rooftop light flashing.
The ambulance stopped, and two hospital workers rushed out. They rushed to the ambulance’s rear, opened the door, and pulled out the gurney.
They rushed the gurney over to the Rambler.
Two hospital workers got Kent out of the Rambler and put him on the gurney.
Henry drove up in his Bel-Air squad car. He got out of his Bel-Air and walked to the rear of the ambulance while the two hospital guys put Kent’s gurney in the rear of their ambulance. “Is he okay?”
“We think so,” one of the guys said while closing the rear door.
Henry walked over to Detective Chambers.
“You okay?” he said once he saw the Rambler and the Bel-Air smashed together.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Detective Chambers wiping the blood off his face with his handkerchief.
“Who is this guy?”
“A friend of Hollister that helped him escape by posing as a fake FBI agent.”
Linus looked up at Henry, and his eyes widened, knowing this other police officer.
Henry looked at Linus and had this strange feeling he knew this old guy. It started bugging him why he was meeting strangers this week with these overwhelming feelings he knows them.
The ambulance made a U-turn and headed south on Route 12 with the flashing red bubble gum light on the roof and the siren blaring.
“Take him to the station and book him for aiding in the escape of a murder suspect and posing as a fake
FBI Agent,” said Detective Chambers, and he grabbed hold of Linus’ arm and pulled him to his feet.
“I found it,” said Henry while they walked Linus to Henry’s squad car.
“Found what?”
“I found a movie camera and film cartridges in a bush by the crime scene.”
Linus got a smile on his face.
Detective Chambers stopped and looked at Henry in disbelief. “You what?”
“I found a Bell and Howell movie camera in the bushes and a used film cartridge, plus there was one in the camera. I’m having Clint get the movie film developed in Macon. Rush order.”
“Mmmm. Well, I’ll be,” said Detective Chambers while opening up the rear door of Henry’s squad car.
He placed Linus in the back seat and closed the door.
“I’ll stay here for the tow trucks and ride back with them.”
“Okay,” said Henry, and he opened up his driver’s door and got inside his squad car. He cranked up his engine while Detective Chambers returned to the crash scene.
He made a U-turn and headed south on Route 12.
While he drove down the road, he glanced in his rearview mirror. “Do I know you?” he asked Linus.
“No sir,” said Linus, but he did know Henry. He remembered Henry, Brenda, and young Kent being up in Cambridge for Christmas seven months ago. “So you found the movie camera and film cartridges?”
“I did.”
“Good, the film will show Kent is innocent, and this Grant Bowers killed that young girl.”
“Is that why you broke Kent out of our jail cell?
Because he was innocent?”
“Yes.”
“Where were you going to run to?”
Linus hesitated for a few seconds. “You would never believe it.”
“Whatever,” said Henry, and he figured they were probably heading to Canada.
Detective Chambers went back to his Bel-Air and sat inside. He thinking about Henry finding the movie camera and film cartridges. “Am I wrong?” he said, starting to doubt his case on Kent.
It was later, and Henry booked Linus on charges of helping a murder suspect escape and posing as an FBI Agent. But he actually hoped this film would free this old man, as there was something about him that he liked. Linus sat in the first cell next to Kent’s cell. He sat on his bunk and started to get scared. But when he remembered Henry stating he found his movie camera and film cartridge, he felt confident that would help get them released.
Kent was placed in a hospital room with his left arm handcuffed to the bed. He was still passed out.
Twenty minutes had passed.
Henry appeared in the doorway of Kent’s hospital room and saw Kent still passed out in the bed.
A nurse walked up behind Henry. “Are you family?” she asked Henry.
“No.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll have to leave for now.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes. He’s going to be fine,” the nurse said, then closed the room door, leaving Henry in the hallway.
He walked away, left the hospital, then headed back to the station.
The rest of the day was quiet at the station.
Henry got bored at the station and decided to spend time cruising around town to spot any possible crimes being committed.
Detective Chambers sat at his desk reviewing the case file on Angie’s murder. He again started to
wonder that maybe, just maybe, he might be wrong about Kent Hollister. But the evidence so far pointed at Kent being the killer. But he still had that slight nagging gut feeling otherwise. He decided to wait to see what that movie film revealed.
It was Wednesday morning.
Officer Peabody was eating his second glazed donut at his desk when Police Chief Bucky Delaney entered the station.
The “Chief,” as everybody called him, was a bald, portly sixty-year-old and had worked for the Warner Robins police department for the past forty years.
“Good morning, Chief,” said Officer Peabody with a mouth full of glazed donuts and a ring of sugar flakes around his lips.
“Good morning, Lester; I see nothing has changed,” said the Chief rolling his eyes. “I hope you all had a quiet time around here while I was out fishing,” he said while heading straight to the coffee pot. “Well, I better let Detective Chambers fill you in when he shows up,” said Officer Peabody, then returned to munching on his third donut.
“Okay, that sounds good,” said the Chief, filling his coffee cup. He sipped hot coffee and then headed off to his office.
Ten minutes had passed.
Lester devoured his sixth and last donut. When Detective Chambers entered the station, the Chief was on his second cup of coffee.
“The Chief ’s in his office,” said Officer Peabody.
“He would like to know how things went while fishing.”
“Okay,” said Detective Chambers, heading to the Chief ’s office. He knocked on the door.
“Come in,” called out the Chief from behind his desk.
Detective Chambers opened up the door and poked his head inside. “You want a dump on what happened while you were gone?”
“Sure, Chuck,” said the Chief putting his coffee cup down on his desk, then sat back in a relaxed position in his chair.
Detective Chambers walked over and sat in the wooden chair before the Chief ’s desk.
“Well, it started off quiet until Saturday night.”
“What happened Saturday night?”
“That evening, we had a murder down by Meyers’
cabin.”
“A queer?” said the Chief as they heard reports on what happened between men at that cabin. But the Chief decided if they were not bothering anybody, it was less paperwork to leave them alone. Plus, he was afraid of finding some local guys down there if he did a bust.
“No, it was a female teenager. Air Force dependent of an Air Force Colonel. A Colonel Abbott.”
The Chief sat up in his chair. “What? The teenage daughter of an Air Force Colonel?”
“Yes, Chief, she was murdered and might be pregnant. I’m having the Coroner check that out.”
The Chief was too surprised, as his town hadn’t had a murder in ten years. His time as Chief of Police has been fairly quiet for the past ten years. “Damn,” he said, as he hated murder cases. “Give me some details,” he said and exited his desk.
Detective Chambers filled the Chief in on their suspect, Kent Hollister, the breakout with Linus, the fake FBI Agent. But he didn’t blame Lester when he told that part to the Chief.
He continued telling the Chief about the car chase, the crash, and how Linus and Kent were recaptured. Kent’s in the hospital, and Linus sits in
their jail. He also told him how Henry found the movie camera and film cartridge by Meyers’ cabin.
The Chief took a few seconds to let all that information sink in while pacing around his office with his coffee cup.
“Well, we’ll have to wait to see what this film reveals for evidence on the case. I t’ll either prove this Hollister guy is guilty or innocent,” said the Chief while he stopped and glanced out his office windows.
“That’s what I get for hiring my nephew,” he said while he looked at Officer Peabody and was pissed with how Linus pulled a fast one on the department.
“Yes sir, I mean, I know we should wait until that film gets developed,” said Detective Chambers while exiting the chair and leaving the office.
“Maybe I shouldn’t take any time off again. I leave, and all hell breaks loose,” said the Chief, then took another drink of his coffee.
Ten minutes had passed.
Henry showed up at the office.
Officer Peabody was now out on patrol.
Henry sat down at his desk and spotted the Chief in his office. “I see the Chief is back. Has he been briefed?”
“Yeah. He knows everything that happened,” said Detective Chambers.
Henry got up from his desk and headed over to the coffee pot. He poured a cup of coffee and then headed back to his desk.
It was quiet in the station for the next hour.
The desk on Henry’s phone rang. “Officer Hollister,” he answered the call.
“It’s me, Clint. I have your movie film developed.
It ended up being two twenty-five foot spools of eight-millimeter film.”
“Great, I’ll be right over,” he said and hung up the phone.
“I’ll be right back,” he said, bolting up from his desk and bolting to the front door.
“Where you going?” said Detective Chambers.
“You’ll find out,” said Henry, opening the front door and rushing outside.
Henry rushed to his squad car, went inside, cranked up the engine, and drove out of the station parking lot.
It wasn’t long before he pulled into Clint’s Camera shop. He parked his car and rushed inside the store.
“That didn’t take you long, Henry,” said Clint from behind the counter.
“I know. I didn’t want to wait.”
“Here she is,” said Clint handing Henry the two developed rolls of 8mm film and the Bell and Howell camera. The black spool is the first, and the gray spool is the second.” “That’ll be twenty dollars for the express, express service.”
Henry felt his back pocket and realized he didn’t have much cash. “Can I pay you tomorrow? I don’t have that much on me.”
“Sure.”
“Oh, do you have a projector I can borrow?”
“Sure do,” said Clint, and he walked away from the counter and headed into a back room. He came out with a Bell and Howell projector in a case.
“Instructions are inside the case. Bring her back when you’re done with it,” said Clint placing the projector on the counter.
“My hands are full. Can you take me to the car for me?”
“Yeah, my pleasure.”
Clint carried the projector case, while Henry had the camera and two rolls of film.
After Clint placed the projector in the front seat of Henry’s Bel-Air, Henry shook his hand, thanking him for this quick service.
Henry got back in his squad car, cranked it up, and drove out of the parking lot.
A few minutes had passed, and Henry came back to the station.
He approached his desk with the movie camera and two film spools.
“What’s that?” said Detective Chambers.
“Kent’s film and movie camera,” said Henry setting them on his desk, then he rushed back to the front door.
“Now, where you going?” said Detective Chambers.
“You’ll find out,” Henry said, opening the front door and rushing outside.
“You’ll find out,” said Detective Chambers mocking Henry.
Henry reappeared back in the station with the projector case.
He walked back to his desk. “Tell the Chief I have that film developed. We should watch it to get to the bottom of this murder case.”
Detective Chambers got up from his desk and went to see the Chief.
The Chief came out of his office and suggested they watch the film in the Interrogation Room.
Henry grabbed the two rolls of film and the projector, and they headed off to the Interrogation Room.
Henry followed the instructions inside the projector case for a couple of minutes to get it set up.
He turned on the projector.
Detective Chambers flicked off the room light.
The film appeared on the bare white concrete wall.
The first spool of the film started.
There wasn’t any sound, but it showed Grant and Angie standing in the clearing. They stopped and started talking.
“That looks like that Angie Abbott girl,” said Detective Chambers.
“Grant was there at the scene,” said Henry watching in disbelief.
“I don’t see this Kent guy. He must be in those bushes filming like he said,” said Detective Chambers.
“Grant Bowers, no way,” said the Chief, and he got up from his chair and moved closer to the wall. “It is him! I don’t believe it,” said the Chief, then returned to his chair. “Damn!”
After three minutes of the film showed Grant and Angie arguing, and it was apparent it was heated.
“It’s obvious to me they were arguing about something,” said the Chief.
“Probably about her being pregnant and Grant not marrying her,” said Henry.
Detective Chambers and the Chief nodded in agreement.
The film showed Angie slapping Grant, then Grant slapping her, knocking her on her butt.
“Ouch, I could feel that myself,” said the Chief.
“The bastard slapped a young girl,” said Detective Chambers. “I can’t believe that bastard slapped a young girl.”
Henry nodded in agreement.
They saw Angie back on her feet in the film, yelling at Grant.
“Boy, is she pissed,” said the Chief.
Detective Chambers and Henry nodded in agreement.
In the film, they saw Grant grabbing Angie by her throat. The film ended.
“Damn,” said the Chief.
“There’s another roll of film,” said Henry, and he quickly wound the film back on the reel and then installed the second spool.
The second spool of the film started. It showed Grant strangling Angie and her yelling.
“She’s probably calling for help,” said the Chief.
Detective Chambers and Henry nodded in agreement.
The film showed Grant ducking her punches.
“It’s obvious he’s killing that girl,” said the Chief.
Detective Chambers and Henry were too pissed to say anything.
The film showed Grant glancing over his shoulder and saying something.
“He saw something,” said Henry.
Detective Chambers and the Chief nodded in agreement.
The film showed Angie hitting Grant on the side of his head.
“Good for her!” said the Chief.
The film showed Grant dropping Angie, then Kent was visible running up to them. Grant punched Kent; he dropped to the ground and stayed.
“He did say Grant hit him, and he passed out,”
said Henry.
“He did say that,” said Detective Chambers.
The film, it showed Angie scooting out of view.
“Where is she going?” said the Chief.
“Probably escaping,” said Henry.
Detective Chambers nodded in agreement.
The film showed Grant running away in the direction Angie went and was out of view.
“He’s going after her,” said the Chief.
Detective Chambers and Henry nodded in agreement.
There were a few minutes of nothing but Kent still on the ground.
“I wonder what’s going on?” said the Chief.
“Grant’s probably killing her,” said Henry.
“I agree,” said Detective Chambers.
In the film, Grant reappears with Angie in his arms. He dropped her limp body on the ground near Kent’s motionless body.
“The bastard did kill her,” said the Chief in a louder and pissed tone.
The blood of Detective Chambers and Henry began boiling.
The film showed Grant ripping off Angie’s blouse, Capri pants, and panties and removing her shoes to where she was now bare-ass naked. Then Grant ran out of view of the camera.
After a few seconds, the film showed Kent and Angie on the ground. The film ended.
Detective Chambers got up and turned on the lights in the room.
Henry proceeded to wind the film back to the front reel on the projector.
“Well, this sure changes things with this case,” said the Chief. “It’s obvious to me, what we have to do now,” he added.
“Yep, I was wrong,” said Detective Chambers.
“Well, to be honest, if it wasn’t for the film, all the evidence did point to that Kent guy,” said Henry, but inside, he was smiling, knowing Kent was really innocent.
“Well, let me put things in motion so we can go out and arrest Grant at the base. I’ll have Major Pearle come down here first to see the film. After all, it’s one of his officers we’re accusing of being a killer,” said the Chief, then he got up from his chair. “It’s the courteous thing to do,” he added while walking to the door. “Have that first film ready for Major Pearle,” said the Chief when he opened the door.
“We also need to handle this issue of that fake FBI Agent we have locked up,” said Detective Chambers.
The Chief thought about that for a few seconds.
I’ll think about that situation later,” he said, then left the room.
Detective Chambers got up and left the room while Henry got the first spool ready on the projector.
Detective Chambers headed off to the jail cells.
He walked up to Linus’ cell.
Linus was pacing in small circles in his cell. He was bored to death.
“We got those film cartridges developed,” said Detective Chambers.
Linus stopped pacing and rushed over to the cell bars. “And it showed?”
“It showed Grant Bowers killing Angie Abbott and not your friend Kent Hollister.”
“See, he was telling the truth.”
“He was, but the evidence at first pointed to him.
But we’re good folk down here and will admit it when we were wrong. And we were wrong.”
“But what about me?”
“Well, the Chief will decide on what to do with you later,” said Detective Chambers then he walked away. Linus did a little victory dance across the floor back to his bunk to celebrate Kent being found innocent. But then he started to worry about his fate.
Detective Chambers went back to the office area and made a beeline straight to the coffee pot. He poured a cup and went back to his desk. He removed a Lucky Strike from his pack and lit one up.
“Major Pearle will be here in fifteen minutes,” the Chief said while stepping out of his office and returning inside.
Detective Chambers smiled as he couldn’t wait to see the expression on Major Pearle’s face when he saw what Grant did. He always thought Major Pearle was arrogant and cocky.
Fifteen minutes passed.
Major Pearle showed up at the police station. He appeared a little irritated while standing at the counter.
“Chief Delaney said it was extremely important that I come out here to see some stupid movie you have.”
“Yes, sir. We’ve been waiting for you,” said Detective Chambers while he got up from his desk.
“Well, it better be extremely important. I’m a very busy man,” said Major Pearle, but if truth be known, the only thing he would do at the base was to have a round of drinks with his buddies at the Officer’s Club.
“Chief, Major Pearle’s here from the air base,”
called out Detective Chambers.
The Chief stepped out of this office. “Major Pearle. Thank you for coming out here,” he said, walking over to the counter.
“This better be extremely important, Chief,” said Major Pearle in an irritated tone.
“Oh, it is. Believe me, it is,” said the Chief with a smirk, as he also disliked Major Pearle. “Please follow me.” Major Pearle followed Detective Chambers through the office area and to the Interrogation Room.
They went inside, where Henry had the projector ready to go.
The detective turned out the lights, and Henry started the projector.
Eight minutes had passed.
Major Pearle watched the two films and sat there, his mouth open in disbelief. “He’s one of my officers,”
he said repeatedly. “One of my good officers.”
“One of your officers that killed a teenage Air Force Dependent,” said the Chief.
“She’s Colonel Abbott’s daughter,” added Henry.
“And there’s something I never told anybody,” he said.
All eyes were on him.
“Back in forty-nine, I was stationed with Grant at Fort Devens in Massachusetts,” said Henry.
“I knew that, so what does that have to do with what we just saw?” said Detective Chambers.
“Yes, you do, but what you don’t know is that in the summer of forty-nine, a local sixteen-year-old teenager was killed. She was also pregnant. She was
found dead and naked in the woods. They determined she was strangled. At first, they suspected Grant since he was seen with her on previous occasions.”
“What happened?” said the Chief.
“He had an alibi, and the police in that town believed him.” “And I knew Grant and didn’t even suspect he would kill anybody. We were best buds. Of course, he had a reputation for being a ladies’ man, but nobody ever suspected him of murder. Even our Commanding Officer went to bat for Grant.”
“What happened to the case?” said Detective Chambers.
“It went cold.”
Major Pearle was pissed, and knew this film had his officer dead to rights. “Okay, let’s put things in motion to arrest him.”
“Now we’re talking, “said the Chief.
“Let me make a call to General McCartney. I have to keep him informed,” said Major Pearle.
“You can use my office phone,” said the Chief, looking at Henry. “We’ll have to show that film to Judge Toole to get those charges dropped for that Kent Hollister kid,” he said then his eyes widened. “Wait, that’s the same name as your kid, Henry.”
“I know, sir. Strange coincidence,” said Henry.
“Sure is,” said the Chief, then left the room with Major Pearle and Detective Chambers.
Henry stayed and took care of the projector.
Ten minutes had passed, and Major Pearle briefed General McCartney on the phone about the situation with Lieutenant Bowers. The General agreed and told Major Pearle to proceed, and General McCartney would inform Colonel Abbott of what would happen.
Major Pearle, Chief Delaney, Henry, and Detective Chambers headed in separate cars to Robins Air Force Base. Major Pearle in his nineteen fifty-two Chevrolet Bel-Air blue Air Force car and the Chief, Detective Chambers, and Henry in Henry’s Bel-Air squad car.
Ten minutes had passed, and Major Pearle’s car was first at the base front gate. He told the Airman guard that the cop car was with him. The guard motioned for everybody to proceed.
The two cars drove through the base and parked in the parking lot of the Air Police building.
Major Pearle exited his car and walked over to Henry’s Bel-Air. “Let me go inside and get two of my guys. Grant is probably drinking at the Officer’s Club, said Major Pearle, then walked off heading to the building.
“Is that what these Air Force officers do all day is drink at the Officer’s Club?” said Detective Chambers.
“I heard the pilots are known to knock down a lot of drinks in the evenings,” said the Chief.
“I hope they don’t do that when Russia attacks us,” said Henry.
They remained quiet until Major Pearle came out of the building with Airman Third Class Derek Allen and Airman Third Class Bobby Gentry behind him.
The two had their side arms that were Colt 45s.
Major Pearle motioned for Henry to follow him.
When Derek and Bobby got in the back seat of Major Pearle’s car, they started to suspect what was going on. They glanced at each other and started to get a little nervous yet a little happy.
Henry followed Major Pearle’s car through the streets of the Air Force base.
They soon arrived at the Officer’s Club parking lot and followed Major Pearle’s car, and parked by the front door.
While they all got out of the cars, Henry spotted Grant’s red T-Bird in the lot. “He’s here.”
“Let go,” said Major Pearle, and they followed to the front door.
Once they got inside, they saw Colonel Abbott waiting inside the lobby area.
“Colonel Abbott, this is Chief Delaney, Detective Chambers, and Officer Hollister. I believe General McCartney informed you of the situation?”
“Yes, he did. Let’s move,” said Colonel Abbott, and he was steaming.
Major Pearle led the way through the club to the High in the Sky lounge.
Once they entered the lounge, they heard the Elvis Presley All Shook Up song playing on the jukebox. They saw Grant at the bar drinking with a hot-looking Brunette to his right.
They marched over to the bar.
“After dinner, we could take a nice drive in the country in my T-Bird. I’ll have the top removed,” said Grant while he lightly rubbed the brunette’s left forearm. “He leaned toward her ear. “Then I’ll have your top removed,” he whispered into her ear, and she giggled.
He heard footsteps approaching him, and he looked to his right and saw Colonel Abbott, Major Pearle, Chief Delaney, Detective Chambers, Henry, and the two of his guys with their side arms storming over to him. “Shit!” he said.
“What did you say?” said the brunette, unsure she heard him cuss and wondered why he would do that.
Grant bolted off his bar stool and made a beeline to the lounge's side door leading to the outside deck.
Henry bolted after Grant, leaped into the air, and tackled Grant, where they smashed on the top of a table where two Captains were drinking beer.
The table broke like a Western bar room fight, sending beer bottles flying into the air and bottles crashing to the floor.
The two Captains fell back in their chairs and landed on their backs with a thud.
Derek and Bobby rushed over and found Henry had Grant pinned to the floor on his stomach.
The two Captains got back on their feet, stunned by what had happened.
“Lieutenant Bowers, you’re under arrest for the murder of Angie Bowers,” said Chief Delaney, and then Henry handcuffed Grant’s arms behind his back.
Henry got off Grant, and then Derek and Bobby grabbed an arm and brought Grant to his feet.
“That guy you framed had a movie camera in the bushes and filmed everything. You don’t stand a chance in court,” said Henry, and he fought hard from punching Grant in his face.
Colonel Abbott got in Grant’s face inches from his nose. “I’ll make sure you get the electric chair, you fucking son of a bitch!” he yelled and fought hard not to punch Grant in his face. He didn’t want to give Grant any advantage in court.
The brunette sat at the bar stunned while she watched the two Airmen escort Grant away with Colonel Abbott, Major Pearle, Chief Delaney, Detective Chambers, and Henry tagging behind.
She got off the stool since her free drink ticket was arrested for murder.
She also left the Officer's Club.
The two Captains were still stunned when they moved and sat at another table.
The bartender brought them over two fresh bottles of beer, and even he was stunned by what happened.
The Elvis song All Shook Up ended on the jukebox. The lounge was quiet.
The bartender picked up the pieces of the table off the floor and then came back to sweep up the pieces of broken beer bottles off the floor.
Twenty minutes had passed. Grant was booked, fingerprinted, mug shot taken, and all items in his pocket removed.
He was placed in the same jail cell Kent previously occupied. He sat on his bunk, depressed.
Back at the hospital in Warner Robins, Kent woke up in his bed.
Nurse Kitty Stone entered his room to check his vitals and saw he was awake. She informed him that he had a concussion and would be fine. But Kent thought otherwise when he realized he was handcuffed to the bed. He still had this murder thing hanging over his head. The nurse left the room to tell the doctor on duty.
Doctor Ben Brown soon entered the room and checked Kent over and was satisfied and felt he would be okay.
It was the early evening, and Henry went home.
He entered the kitchen. “Hi, honey,” he said while he walked up to Brenda at the stove, preparing some spaghetti for dinner. He gave her a kiss on her cheek.
“How was your day, honey?”
“Extremely interesting. Extremely interesting,” he said while he walked over to the refrigerator.
Brenda was curious, as Henry never said that about his work. “So what happened?”
Henry opened the refrigerator, reached inside, and removed a cold bottle of Black Label beer. “Well, we found some evidence that proved our murder suspect was innocent, or rather, I found some evidence,” he said while opening his beer bottle.
“What evidence?” she said, stirring the spaghetti noodles in the pot on the stove.
“Our suspect apparently filmed Angie Abbott being strangled with a movie camera.”
Brenda stopped stirring the noodles in the pot and looked at Henry. “Filmed it? Why was he there with a movie camera?”
“He claimed he was out there to film the cabin since old man Meyers’ was a Moonshiner, then he saw Angie and Grant arguing.”
It took a few seconds for it to sink in. “Grant?
Grant Bowers. He was out there?”
Henry took a sip of beer. “I guess he thought it would be a quiet and secluded place to be with that teenager. The film showed Grant strangling that teenager and not our murder suspect. Him being caught by her body was because Grant punched him out cold when he tried to stop her from being strangled. We arrested Grant today.”
Brenda shook her head. “You know, I never liked him. And I still believe it was him back in forty-nine,”
she said and removed the pot of noodles and poured them into a strainer in the sink.
“I know. And so do I right now.”
Young Kent entered the kitchen.
“Hey buddy,” said Henry and smiled at his son.
“Go wash up for dinner,” said Brenda to Kent.
Kent left the kitchen.
Henry took another sip of beer and thought about that other Kent and how much he felt that he knew him.
“Oh, Daddy called. And he said he didn’t know of any Kent Hollister up there in Cambridge.”
“I figured that.”
“Well, enough of Grant; go wash up for dinner.”
Henry left the kitchen while Brenda finished making dinner.
Brenda decided not to tell Henry about those times Grant made passes at him. She figured him being arrested for murder was enough.
Ten minutes had passed, and they were eating dinner in the dining room.
“Oh, when Daddy called earlier, he said he had something important to discuss with you.”
“I’ll call him after we eat.”
They ate their dinner at the dining room table, and Henry wondered how young Kent’s day was going.
After dinner, Henry called Brenda’s dad and heard about his important talk. He said he’d think about it and call him back in a few days. Brenda’s dad made
Henry a job off, and the pay would be way more than he was making in Warner Robins.
Thursday morning arrived.
Back at the hospital, Kent got a visit from Doctor Douglas Kennedy. He came into the room to give Kent another examination.
At the police station, Detective Chambers sat behind his desk, drinking coffee and staring across the room in deep thought. His desk phone rang.
“Detective Chambers,” he said, answering the call.
“Detective, it’s Doctor Watson down at the morgue. I’ve finished my autopsy on that Abbott girl.”
“And?”
“She was about two months pregnant.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, thanks, Doctor Watson.”
“You bet.”
Detective Chambers hung up his phone and dreaded making this phone call. But he knew it had to be done. He dialed a phone number.
“Colonel Abbott,” he said, answering the call.
Detective Chambers paused for a second.
“Colonel, Detective Chambers. Ah, listen, I, ah,” he said, rubbing his forehead. “I got a call from the doctor down at the morgue.”
“And?” said Colonel Abbott, interrupting him.
“Well, it appears your daughter was, in fact, two months pregnant.”
There was a few seconds of silence. “FUCK!”
yelled Colonel Abbott from the phone piercing Detective Chamers ear.
“I’m so sorry, sir,” said Detective Chambers, but he knew that wouldn’t help.
“Thank you for following up on this and getting back with me, Detective Chambers,” said Colonel Abbott, then he hung up his end of the call.
Detective Chambers hung up his phone.
Twenty minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers was still behind his desk, drinking his second cup of coffee in deep thought about this case.
Henry entered the station after his initial patrol around town.
He headed over to the coffee pot when the desk phone of Detective Chambers rang. “Detective Chambers,” he answered the call.
“Yes, Detective, I’m Nurse Julie Cleaver. Your prisoner, Kent Hollister, was released by Doctor Kennedy. You can come down and pick him up.”
“Thank you, Judy. We’ll be right down,” he said, then hung up the phone.
“Our guy is being released from the hospital. Let’s go pick him up,” said Detective Chambers to Henry.
“You bet,” said Henry, then he set his coffee cup on the table.
Detective Chambers and Henry left the station, got in Henry’s squad car, and headed to the hospital.
Ten minutes had passed, and we arrived in Kent’s hospital room, where he was still handcuffed to the bed. Detective Chambers walked over, unlocked the handcuff, and removed it from Kent’s wrist. “Go get dressed.”
Kent got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, where his clothes hung. He got out of the hospital gown and got dressed in his clothes.
He walked out of the bathroom, over to Detective Chambers, and placed his hand behind his back.
“Oh, there’s no need for that,” said Detective Chambers, shoving the handcuffs back in his suit pocket.
“There’s no need for that?” said Kent, and he looked a little confused.
“I found your movie camera and film cartridge,”
said Henry walking up to Kent. “I had it developed, and it showed you were innocent. Grant Bowers was arrested yesterday for murder and sits in our jail cell.”
Kent looked at Henry in disbelief. He looked at Detective Chambers, who nodded that Henry was correct. Kent walked to Henry and hugged him.
“Thank you!”
While they hugged, Henry had this beautiful warm feeling he was hugging his son. He couldn’t understand that feeling but couldn’t get rid of it either.
And he didn’t care.
“Enough of this lovey-doevy stuff. We have to go see Judge Toole later today,” said Detective Chambers.
Henry and Kent separated from their hug, and the three left the hospital.
When they got to Henry’s squad car, Henry let Kent sit up front while Detective Chambers sat in the back. Henry drove them back to the police station.
Once they got into the station, they took Kent straight into Chief Delaney’s office.
Officer Peabody also bought Linus into the Chief ’s office.
Kent and Linus sat in the wooden chairs before the Chief ’s desk while Henry and Detective stood by the door.
“Well, it appears that Mister Hollister filmed Miss Abbott being strangled by Mister Bowers. He’s been arrested and charged with murder,” said the Chief, and he took a drink of coffee. “So where does that leave us now? We need to show that film to Judge Toole, and I will request he drop the murder charges against you, Mister Hollister.”
Kent was relieved.
“And now, what to do with you, Mister Bond, if that’s your real name?”
Linus started to get nervous.
Chief Delaney looked at Linus while he tapped a few fingers on his desk, thinking about that situation.
This made Linus even more nervous. “What to do with you?” he said, then opened the folder on Linus’
case. He glanced at Linus, making him nervous again.
“I really don’t want the FBI down in here snooping around my town, so I’m going to forget about you playing FBI Agent. I know your heart was in the right place to help out a friend. And I respect that,” he said.
He removed the paperwork on Linus’ arrest, tore up the arrest paperwork and mug shot, then tossed them along with Linus’ fake FBI identification in the trash can. Linus sighed a sigh of relief.
“But I want you two to promise you’ll never leave my town again. Do I make myself crystal clear?”
“Yes sir, I’ll never step foot in your town again,”
said Kent.
“I’ll also never step foot in your town again,” said Linus.
“Good, I trust you, ’cause if I catch either of you in my town again, I will arrest you and come up with some charges that will stick.”
Kent and Linus nodded that they completely understood him.
“Good, now, Henry, get that projector and film.
I’ve talked with Judge Toole, and he’s ready to see us, said the Chief.
Fifteen minutes had passed, and Chief Delaney, Detective Chambers, Henry, and Kent sat in Judge Toole’s chambers.
Henry had the projector set up with a screen that the courthouse provided.
The bailiff flicked off the lights.
Eight minutes had passed, and Judge Toole saw both film reels.
The bailiff flicked on the lights.
Judge Toole looked at Kent. “Well, it appears that you are, in fact, innocent, Mister Hollister. I wished this evidence was brought to me sooner,” he said, giving Detective Chambers a glaring stare that he screwed up.
“I know, sir, and I’m truly sorry,” said Detective Chambers with a hint of embarrassment.
“Well, your honor, this evidence proves Mister Hollister is innocent; therefore, we request that the charges of murder against him be dropped,” said the Chief.
Judge Toole looked at Kent then he glanced at the projector. “Mister Hollister, consider those charges against you dropped. You’re free to go.”
As did on Henry’s face, a huge smile grew on Kent’s face.
“Now, about this matter with that Air Force officer. Where is he?”
“He’s outside your courtroom, ready to be arraigned,” said the Chief.
Judge Toole looked at Kent. “I need you here as a witness.”
“Ah,” said Kent, looking over at the Chief, recalling his explicit orders this morning.
“Yes, your honor, he’ll be here,” said the Chief.
“But, your honor, I really need to return home to Massachusetts. I mean, after what I’ve been through, being falsely accused of murder, then in jail for a couple of days. I just want to go home and forget about all this. I think the film is your perfect witness,”
said Kent, silently praying Judge Toole would agree.
Judge Toole thought about what Kent said for a few seconds. “Chief Delaney. Do you have a witness statement from Mister Hollister? A statement on what he witnessed?” said Judge Toole.
“Well, get one. I don’t want to proceed without something from him. But Mister Hollister is correct; that film has this Air Force officer dead to rights. So if Mister Hollister isn’t here, that should be okay.”
“Yes, your honor,” said the Chief.
“Well, let’s go arraign this guy,” said Judge Toole.
“Get him inside my courtroom.”
Chief Delaney, Henry, Detective Chambers, and Kent exited the Judge’s chambers.
Three minutes had passed.
Grant stood in the courtroom next to Chief Delaney.
Detective Chambers, Henry, and Kent sat in the room. And in the back also sat Colonel Abbott.
“Mister Grant Bowers, you are here before me on the charge of murder. How do you plead, sir?” said Judge Toole.
“Not guilty,” said Grant.
“As they all do,” said Judge Toole quietly. “Okay, sir, your trial date will be September ninth. No bail.
You will remain in the custody of the Warner Robins jail until your trial,” said Judge Toole, then he hit that small wooden block with his gravel. “Get him out of my sight.”
Chief Delaney grabbed Grant by his left arm and walked him to the rear doors of the courtroom.
Detective Chambers, Henry, and Kent all followed behind. Grant avoided eye contact with them.
It was quiet in the squad car. Henry sat in the front with Kent, and Grant was in the rear in the middle between Detective Chambers and the Chief.
After they got to the station, Grant was placed back in his cell. He sat down on his bunk and knew his life wouldn’t last as long as anticipated. He prayed he could get a superior attorney to bullshit him out of date with Old Sparky.
Chief Delaney had Kent and Linus in his office.
“Well, it appears that Judge Toole freed you to go,” said the Chief. “Remember, I don’t want to see you in my town or state again.”
“Yes sir, I won’t step foot in your town or state again,” said Kent.
“Me neither,” said Linus. “I promise.”
“Good; how can I get you out of my town?”
“We could use a ride to the Greyhound station in Macon,” said Kent.
“I’d be happy to drive them up there,” said Henry.
“I’ll also tag along, you know, to make sure they get on the bus,” said Detective Chambers.
“Well, it’s the least we could do,” said the Chief.
“Go,” he added, waving his hand to tell them to leave his office.
Kent and Linus left the Chief ’s office with Henry and Detective Chambers.
They left the station and got in Henry’s squad car with Kent up front and Linus in the back with Detective Chambers.
“Oh, I need my suit and suitcase. It should be in my room at the Peach Tree Motor Court, said Kent, as he still wanted to wear that suit when he returned to the future.
“Okay,” said Henry while he cranked up the Bel-Air. Henry left the station parking lot and headed to the Peach Tree Motor Court.
Henry went inside the office with Kent to tell the clerk to let him in his old room.
Henry waited outside the room while Kent changed into his suit and packed his suitcase.
After he was dressed in his suit and Fedora hat in hand, they returned to the Bel-Air and were on their way to Macon.
It was quiet in the Bel-Air during the ride to the Macon Greyhound Bus Station.
After the Bel-Air was parked, Henry and Detective Chambers went inside the Greyhound Bus Station with Kent and Linus. They stood by while they got their tickets to get them to Savannah and then to Boston. The bus to Savannah was leaving in thirty minutes.
Henry looked at Detective Chambers. “I trust they’ll get on that bus.”
Detective Chambers looked at Kent and Linus.
“Yeah, I also trust they’ll get on that bus.”
“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” said Henry, and he stuck his hand out to Kent.
Kent shook it, and Henry again had that same strange feeling knowing Kent like he was family.
“Ah, listen, I’m sorry about how I treated you. I guess I get a little mad when a young girl is murdered,”
said Detective Chambers.
“That’s alright,” said Kent. “I understand.”
“Well, we better get back to the station,” said Henry at Detective Chambers.
“Yeah, we better.”
Henry looked at Kent. “Maybe our paths will cross again. Hopefully, out of Georgia.”
“Wouldn’t be surprised if it did,” said Kent.
“Come, we better go, Kent,” said Linus.
Kent nodded in agreement, and they walked away.
Henry and Detective Chambers walked to the station’s front doors.
They went outside and got back in the Bel-Air.
“Now, what do we do for excitement?” said Detective Chambers while Henry cranked up his Bel-Air. “Make sure Grant meets Old Sparky,” said Henry while he backed the Bel-Air out of the parking spot.
“Yeah, we do need to do that,” said Detective Chambers while Henry drove away through the parking lot.
Thirty minutes had passed, and Kent and Linus were on the Greyhound bus to Savannah. The two sat quietly during that short trip.
An hour had passed, and Henry drove his Bel-Air around town for another patrol.
Detective Chambers sat at his desk reviewing Angie’s case file. He picked up Kent’s driver’s license and stared at it wondering what to do with it then he got an idea. He opened up his middle desk drawer and removed a pair of scissors, and he cut up the driver’s license into a bunch of small pieces and let it rain into his trash can.
While he put his scissors away in his desk drawer, his desk phone rang. “Detective Chambers,” he said, answering the call.
“Detective Agent Williamson with the FBI up here in Boston.”
“Yes, Agent Williamson.”
“I’m calling about that guy pretending to be a fake FBI Agent.”
“Oh, he’s long gone. Snuck away in the middle of the night. We don’t know where he is or could be heading.”
“Ah, I see. Well, we’ll inform our other field offices to be on the lookout for a guy pretending to be an FBI Agent.” “We’ll catch him, and we won’t let him slip away,” he said sarcastically.
“Understand. Thanks for calling,” said Detective Chambers. “We’ll catch him and won’t let him slip away,” he said, mocking Agent Williamson while he hung up his phone. “Dumb clam chowder-eating G-man.”
Three hours had passed, and Kent and Linus were on another Greyhound bus leaving the Savannah station and heading north.
Back at the Warner Robins police station, Detective Chambers’ eyes widened when he
remembered something. He exited his desk and rushed to the Chief ’s office.
“Chief,” he said while he entered his office.
“Yeah, Chuck.”
“We have that Linus’ smashed Rambler in the backyard; what should we do with it?”
Chief Delaney thought about that for a few seconds. “Have the scrap yard pick it up. Less paperwork.”
“Yes sir,” said Detective Chambers, and he left the Chief ’s office and returned to his desk. He called Rocky’s Salvage Yard, located in the southern part of town, to come pick up the Rambler.
The rest of the day was quiet in Warner Robins.
At three that afternoon, Henry and Detective Chambers watched. At the same time, Rocky came and picked up Linus’ smashed Rambler and hauled it away.
When Henry got home after work, he took his son Kent into their backyard, where they had a catch.
Life was good.
Friday was uneventful in Warner Robins.
Kent and Linus were on the Greyhound heading north to Boston. They slept most of the trip, yet they were still completely exhausted.
It was now Saturday night, around eight, and a Greyhound bus pulled into the Boston Greyhound Bus Station.
Linus and Kent got off the bus, and after he retrieved his suitcase from the bottom of the bus, they headed off to the station.
Way down in Warner Robins, Rocky had just finished removing all the good parts from Linus’
Rambler. He knew he could make a few bucks off this car from his parts store. He was grateful for the police department letting him keep this car for free.
Back in Boston, Linus, and Kent, with his suitcase in hand, took their time while they walked through the streets of Boston to get over to young Linus’ home.
Hours passed, and Linus and Kent arrived at Linus’ home at two seven on Sunday morning.
They walked down Linus’ street, and when they got close to the house, they saw young Linus. He was on the front porch in his rocking chair with his double-barrel shotgun in hand.
They looked at the barn and saw the barn door was cracked open.
“What do we do?” said Kent.
Linus thought about it for a few seconds. “Guess we’ll just have to wait, and hopefully, I or I mean, he’ll fall asleep soon.”
Linus and Kent waited in the darkness.
After ten minutes, Linus started to get a little nervous while looking at his watch and glancing at the front porch of his house. “Why won’t he go to sleep?”
“What’s the hurry?”
“The machine will be back in two minutes. If we don’t get there precisely, we’ll lose our ride home forever and be struck here in fifty-seven for another twenty-four hours.”
Kent looked at Linus and then glanced at young Linus sitting in his rocking chair on the front porch.
“No way I’m staying here,” said Kent, bolting off toward the barn.
It took Linus a few seconds to realize Kent was bolting to the barn. He sprinted off after Kent.
Kent reached the barn door before Linus. The second he placed his hand on the handle of the barn door, the blast of a shotgun filled the air. The sound of shotgun pellets pelting the barn wall scared Kent and Linus and caused them to hit the dirt. Kent’s suitcase flew off and landed by the barn wall.
“Aliens! You stole my car! I want it back!” yelled young Linus from the front porch.
Kent and Linus hugged the dirt, fearful of being killed by the young Linus.
The humming sound filled the air inside the barn.
Linus glanced back at the house and saw young Linus reloading his double-barrel shotgun. “It’s coming back, now! We’ll have to chance getting shot!”
said Linus, and he jumped up from the dirt, grabbed the barn door, and slammed it open. He rushed inside the barn.
Kent jumped up from the dirt and bolted inside the barn. He left his suitcase in the dirt by the wall of the barn.
Once they got inside the barn, cyan light exploded at the ring in the dirt.
There was a counterclockwise swirl of bright cyan light emitting from that ring. The swirl suddenly broke into green and blue light beams in a counterclockwise swirling rotation.
There was the faint sighting of the spinning time machine within those swirling rotating beams of green and blue beams of light from the base and from the rear saucer.
The beams of light faded away, and the time machine spun counterclockwise. There was a loud humming sound.
The time machine’s spinning slowed, and the humming sound became quiet.
The spinning time machine slowed down, and the humming stopped.
The time machine was ready for departure again.
Linus and Kent ran over to the time machine from the barn door.
Linus opened the door, Kent sat inside, then Linus sat inside and slammed the door shut.
They both strapped themselves snuggly to the seat with the harnesses.
Way off by the barn door stood young Linus with his shotgun aimed at this strange contraption. He wanted to shoot at the aliens, but the sight of old Linus and Kent stopped him. There was this strong familiar feeling that he knew the older alien. But that
contraption was just like the sketch he had drew on notebook paper two weeks ago. So he stood in disbelief and watched the show.
Old Linus flipped the “Power” toggle switch inside the time machine, and the circular light illuminated green. A low hum was heard.
He flipped the “Door” toggle switch. The circular light illuminated green, and the door clicked in the locked position.
He flipped the “Travel Dates” toggle switch, and the three circular lights illuminated green. The three large digital panels lit up, and all the digital readouts were an orange zero.
He reached the “Now” panel and dialed in 8,18, 1957, and 0230.
He reached the “Travel To” panel and dialed in 11, 8, 1981, and 0230.
He reached over to the “Pick-up” panel and pressed a small button in the lower left corner. That panel powered off.
He reached over and flipped the “Engine” toggle switch. The circular light below that switch illuminated green in the same second the engine started a strange louder humming sound. The peg on the engine gauge moved off the peg a little.
Linus flipped the “Adventure in Time” toggle switch briefly.
The engine whined louder and louder.
Hundreds of beams of bright blue lights shot out horizontally from the rear. These beams started to rotate counterclockwise while the rear saucer started spinning.
Beams of bright green lights shot up horizontally from the base. These beams of green lights start spinning while the base starts to spin the machine clockwise.
The needle in the engine gauge moved into the middle of the green pie, then to the yellow, then to the red. The machine spun faster and faster and made a strange whirling sound, with the blue and green lights starting to mix together and turning to a soothing cyan color. The cyan light exploded, and it was pure white for a split second and vanished.
Young Linus fell back on his butt, and his double-barrel shotgun discharged, pelting the barn ceiling with pellets.
“What the hell was that?” he said, and then for some strange reason, he realized they weren’t evil aliens.
They were friendly.
He stood in the barn for another ten minutes eying the spot where that strange contraption once stood. After realizing the contraption wasn’t coming back, he left the barn.
While he closed the barn doors, he spotted Kent’s suitcase up against the barn wall.
He walked over to it and reached down, and touched the suitcase. It didn’t sting or burn him. He touched it again and again. He felt it was safe, so he opened the suitcase and saw it had a pair of jeans, a shirt, and black Converse sneakers. “Maybe those weren’t aliens,” he said; then he closed the suitcase, picked it up by the handle, and locked the barn door.
He walked off to his house with that suitcase in hand. He stopped and glanced back at the barn, then recalled his sketch. “Time machine?” he said, then walked off to his house with a smile and the suitcase.
“Was that a time machine?”
Henry, Brenda, and Kent ate supper in Warner Robins at Henry’s parent’s farm. Henry’s dad informed him that they were moving to Cedar Rapids.
It was back to November eighth, nineteen eighty-two thirty in the morning.
It was quiet inside old Linus’ barn.
That ring of faint cyan color formed on the ground inside the barn.
The cyan-colored ring got brighter.
There was an explosion of cyan light at the ring.
There was a counterclockwise swirl of bright cyan light emitting from that ring. The swirl suddenly broke up into green and blue beams of light in a counterclockwise swirling rotation.
There was the faint sighting of the spinning time machine within those swirling rotating beams of green and blue beams of light from the base and from the rear saucer.
The beams of light faded away, and the time machine spun counterclockwise. There was a loud humming sound.
The time machine’s spinning slowed, and the humming sound became quiet.
The spinning time machine slowed down, and the humming stopped.
The door to the time machine opened, and Linus and Kent got out.
Linus closed the door.
They saw they were back inside the room inside the barn and knew they had a successful return trip.
They walked away from the time machine then Kent stopped. “Crap, I left my suitcase back in fifty-seven.”
Linus thought about what he said then suddenly, a fresh memory popped into his head. “Oh yeah, I have it. It’s in the closet of my den,” he said, then was
surprised he knew that. But then again, he, as a younger man, found the suitcase back in fifty-seven.
“Wow, that sure was a bizarre feeling.”
Kent looked at Linus, and it took him a few seconds to understand what Linus just said. “That is bizarre,” he said, then wondered if he’ll have some fresh memories from the past popping into his head.
They walked to the room door, and Linus unlocked it, opened it, and they left the room.
Linus relocked that door to the room on the outside.
They walked through the barn and saw that same tarp over a vehicle but didn’t think about it.
They walked to the barn door, and Linus unlocked it. They stepped outside then Linus relocked the barn door out there.
Linus and Kent saw the small holes in the barn wall made from a shotgun twenty-one years ago.
Linus and Kent walked off and headed to the house.
Kent noticed that his car was not where he had left it before he time-traveled. “Someone stole my Monza,” he said in a panic.
“It was there when I left to rescue you,” said Linus while he looked the area over.
Kent spotted the rear end of a nineteen eighty-one red with red interior Chevrolet Camaro Z28, and it was parked next to Linus’ green Impala. He stared at that beautiful Camaro then a sudden fresh memory popped into his head. It reminded him of buying that Camaro at a Chevrolet Dealership in Boston. “That’s my Camaro!” he said while rushing to the car. “That’s my Camaro!”
Linus walked over to Kent.
Kent walked around admiring his new car.
A fresh memory popped into Linus’ head. “I now remember. You brought it here for your thirtieth
birthday,” he said, his eyes lit up with another memory.
“Your car keys are in my house.”
Kent smiled, as he’s always dreamt of having a new Camaro. He couldn’t wait to get behind the wheel of that dream car. Kent yawned.
Linus yawned.
Linus and Kent went inside the house. They were totally exhausted from their long trip.
Linus retired to his bed while Kent slept on the couch in the living room.
They were both sound asleep within minutes.
Hours had passed.
Linus woke up when the sun peeked through his bedroom window. He sat up in bed, a little dazed and confused for a few seconds. His hair was different.
More fresh memories started popping into his head. The first memory was when he was back in fifty-seven and heard a strange noise from the barn in the middle of the night. After seeing that light cyan-colored ring on the barn’s ground, he thought it was aliens. Linus laughed over that memory as he knew this alien and laughed at himself.
The second fresh memory was when he heard a noise in the barn again in the middle of the night. He remembered seeing that light cyan-colored ring on the ground of the barn. He thought they were aliens coming back. He laughed at himself, but then another memory popped into his head.
It was the following memory of the morning he discovered that his Rambler was missing. He laughed but stopped laughing when he remembered he had stolen and wrecked his car.
Downstairs in the living room, Kent woke up and had changed overnight. He sat up on the couch, yawned then heard the faint sound of Linus laughing upstairs. “I wonder what’s so funny with him?” he said while getting up from the couch.
Linus walked down the stairs in his blue bathrobe and entered the living room.
“What was so funny?”
“Oh, I was recalling back in fifty-seven how I, as a young man, thought aliens were in my barn when the time machine was showing up and leaving.”
Kent chuckled, overhearing that.
“Then I remembered that on that Monday morning when I went to the barn and found my Rambler was gone. I thought it was stolen, but I stole it.” “And wrecked it.”
“Yes, I wrecked it,” he said then another memory popped into his head. “But the police thought I was trying an insurance scam. They dropped it six months later when I never received a check from the insurance company,” he said, then chuckled.
Linus’ eyes widened. “Kent, your hair.”
“What’s wrong with my hair?” said Kent, running his fingers through it. It felt longer and not in that Cary Grant style he got for the time-traveling trip.
He got up and rushed out of the living room and down the hallway.
He ran into the hallway bathroom and stood before the mirror on the wall above the sink. He saw that his hair was back to dishwater blonde but styled a little longer but not as long as he originally had it back in eighty-one.
He walked out of the bathroom and went back into the living room. He looked at Linus, and his eyes widened. “Your hair.”
“What about my hair?”
“It’s back to the way it was before we left.
Linus felt his hair and knew it was back to snow white, sticking out everywhere. “This is really bizarre.”
“It sure is,” said Kent.
Linus’ eyes widened, remembering something.
“My fifty-one Rambler. It was wrecked, so what’s in my barn under that tarp?”
Kent thought about what he had said and recalled seeing a vehicle under that tarp. He got curious. “We’ll have to go see.”
“Yeah, let’s go see,” Linus said, then rushed up the stairs and back down them.
Kent followed Linus out of the house and to the barn. Linus unlocked the barn door and opened it, and they rushed inside.
There was a vehicle in that spot with that same tarp over it.
Linus rushed up to the vehicle and removed the tarp. Underneath was a green and white nineteen fifty-seven Rambler in excellent condition.
A fresh memory popped into Linus’ head. “I remember.”
“What?”
“I remember the Cambridge police telling me my Rambler was found in Georgia, and it was all smashed up and stripped of the good parts. They agreed it was stolen, and the thieves crashed and sold part of it.”
“You sure loved green Ramblers.”
“I know.”
Kent’s eyes widened. “We’re supposed to be somewhere today.”
Linus thought about what he had said. “You’re right, but where?”
“Maybe we’ll figure that out later.”
Kent’s eyes lit up when another memory popped into his head. “I know where we’re supposed to go today?”
“Where?”
“My mom’s house for dinner.”
Linus thought about what he had said. “You’re right,” he said, then looked at his Rambler. “Well, take her.” Kent looked at the Rambler. “Why not. I’d be just like old times.”
Linus looked at the Rambler. “Yeah, but this time we won’t have a Detective from Georgia chasing after us.” Kent chuckled. “Yeah, that part we don’t need again.”
“Let’s go get cleaned up,” said Linus.
“That sounds good.”
Linus and Kent left the barn, locked the barn door, and went back inside his house.
Linus and Kent took turns using the upstairs bathroom to shower.
After they were cleaned up, they sat around the living room and chatted about their time travel trip. Of course, now they laughed at what happened, even though Kent was fearful for his life then.
Linus’ eyes widened, and there was something he had to do. He bolted off the couch, ran out of the living room and down the hallway.
Kent thought that Linus had a bad case of the runs. Linus returned to the living room with a book from his den.
He sat back down on the couch. “That history book on crimes. It originally showed your dad in here, then it showed you in here,” he said while he opened it up to the Table of Contents.
Kent got nervous when Linus scanned the Table of Contents and then opened up to another page.
Linus looked at that page. His eyes lit up with joy.
“It worked! It worked!” he said, doing a little victory dance while sitting on the couch.
Kent glanced at the page and saw a mug shot of Grant Bowers. He smiled.
Linus scanned through that page. “Grant was executed at Reidsville, Georgia on the morning of October eighteenth back in nineteen sixty.”
Kent looked at that page, and a huge grin formed on his face. “We had the real killer finally pay for his crime.”
Linus and Kent high-fived each other for a job well done.
Linus got a serious look on his face. “My time machine,” he said and paused. “It should never, and I mean never, be used to change any events in time.
Look what almost happened to you. We were lucky, I mean, extremely lucky, that this book didn’t finally end with the story about you being executed.”
Kent looked at the book and imagined his mug shot there instead of Grant’s. “You’re right.”
“I should only use that machine to discreetly blend in and record history.” “I will never alter it!”
“I agree.”
Kent and Linus sat in silence. Kent started to wonder about his daddy. Suddenly tons of questions started flooding Kent’s mind. Was he still alive? Were his parents still living in Warner Robins? Wait, I’m going to Mom’s house for dinner tonight. She’s still here in Cambridge. Wait, does this mean Daddy’s dead? Did he die for other reasons? Maybe he was killed in the line of duty? Kent was scared of those answers, yet he was also curious.
Linus and Kent ate breakfast and drank a few cups of coffee.
After breakfast, they lounged around and took another nap.
It was lunchtime, and they had some ham and cheese sandwiches.
After lunch, Linus drove his old Rambler out of the barn.
He drove it to the side of his house and got out the hose and a bucket of soapy water.
Kent offered to help, and while he was washing the old car, sudden memories popped into Kent’s mind of him washing this exact Rambler when he was around eleven. Kent thought it might be during a summer visit to Cambridge to see his grandparents.
The old Rambler was now cleaned and aired out.
An hour had passed, and Linus and Kent got inside the Rambler. It cranked up and purred like a kitten, and obviously, Linus babied this antique car.
Linus drove the Rambler down his driveway and turned right onto the street.
“Do you know where you’re going?” said Kent.
Linus thought for a few seconds. “Yeah, your mom still lives in that same house.”
Kent thought about what he said and suddenly knew that that was still true.
Linus drove the Rambler down the street and made a left turn.
A fresh memory suddenly popped into Kent’s head. He was thirteen and remembered sitting in this Rambler in the passenger seat with a then sixty-four-year-old Linus. Linus took Kent to see the Time Travelers movie. It was October in sixty-four, and Kent suddenly realized he lived in Cambridge back in that year and not Warner Robins. Did Daddy die? Was he shot being a cop at Warner Robins?
While Linus drove his Rambler closer and closer to his mom’s house, butterflies started fluttering in his stomach. What’s in store for me there? More heartache?
Seven minutes had passed, and Linus pulled into the driveway of Brenda’s house. But there was a blue nineteen-eighty Chevrolet Impala also parked in the driveway. Kent didn’t recognize that car. Did Mom remarry? He wondered while Linus parked his car and turned off the engine.
Kent was nervous while he and Linus got out of the Rambler.
They walked to the front door, and it felt like an eternity.
Kent’s finger shook when he rang the doorbell.
The silence until his mom opened the front door felt like an eternity.
The front door opened. Kent’s mouth dropped open. Standing inside his mom’s house was his daddy.
Henry was now fifty-four years old with salt and pepper hair.
Kent stared in disbelief, as did Linus. He remembered why he was eating dinner there. It was his parents’ thirty-first wedding anniversary.
“Well, son, will you come inside or stand out on the front stoop all day?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Kent, and he opened the storm door and stepped into the house along with Linus.
Henry closed the front door. “Good to see you, son,” he said, then hugged Kent.
While they hugged, Kent had more fresh memories like a popcorn pop into his head.
The first memory was when Kent was ten years old, the spring of nineteen sixty-one. He sat in the backseat of a fifty-six Chevrolet Nomad. His daddy drove, and his mom was in the passenger seat.
In the back of the Nomad were suitcases and boxes. Kent suddenly realized they were leaving Warner Robins.
The next memory was when Kent was still ten and moved into that house in Cambridge with his daddy and mom. The same house his mom lived in before he traveled to nineteen fifty-seven.
The next memory was when his daddy started his new job with Security at MIT. He got that job because of Brenda’s dad’s influence.
Lots of fresh memories of past birthdays and Christmas have flooded his mind.
The next memory was when Kent graduated high school and had his picture snapped with his daddy and mom. The next memory was of Linus driving Kent to MIT in that Rambler, but he was starting engineering classes this time.
The next memory was when Kent graduated from MIT and had his picture snapped with his daddy, mom, and Linus.
The next memory was when Kent showed up for his first day as a NASA engineer at the Lewis Research Center in Ohio.
Henry and Kent separated from their short hug.
He couldn’t believe what just happened, but it felt right.
It felt like his life.
Henry shook Linus’ hand, and Linus had this smile that he was so happy to see Henry alive again.
Kent walked through the living room with his daddy; he saw high school and college graduation pictures framed on one of the walls. They were like the memories that popped into his mind when he hugged his daddy.
Brenda walked into the living room, and she looked like he remembered her from before he traveled.
“There’s my sweet baby,” said Brenda walking up to Kent.
“Mom, I’m not a baby anymore,” he said while Brenda hugged him.
“Hi, Linus,” she said, walking over to him and giving him a light kiss on his cheek.
“Go wash up for supper,” she told Kent and Linus.
Ten minutes had passed, and Brenda made spaghetti and meatballs with a tossed salad for supper.
They sat at the dining room table and started idle talk while eating.
“So Kent, when are we going to meet this new girl you’ve been talking about so much?” said Henry.
“Is this one serious?” said Brenda hoping Kent would get married soon.
“You’re thirty; probably time to stop playing the field and settle down,” said Henry.
Kent looked at Henry and Brenda and needed clarification on what he was talking about. He looked at Linus and gave Henry an I’m Also Clueless look.
More fresh memories started popping into Kent’s head. One memory was of him dating Kelly in high school, and they danced at the Senior Prom. He remembered her long silky blonde hair.
Another memory popped into his head. In this memory, he dated a girl named Amy. She was a student at MIT and had short blonde hair, and wore glasses.
Another memory popped into his head. In this memory, he realized he worked at the Lewis Research Center in the Zero Gravity Research Facility.
Another memory popped into his head. In this memory, he was dating a girl named Tiffany. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and piercing blue eyes and worked with him at NASA at the Lewis Research Center in Ohio.
“Oh, we’ll come to Ohio in the summer and meet her?” said Brenda.
“Yes, I would love that,” said Kent, and more loving memories of Tiffany popped into his head like popcorn. He found his soul mate – finally.
Henry’s eyes lit, recalling something. “Oh, remember my old buddy Chuck Chambers?” he said.
“Oh yeah,” said Brenda.
Linus and Kent looked at each other as they remembered him too well.
“What about him?” said Kent.
“Well, he retired from the Warner Police Department three months ago. He was the Chief of
Police for the past eight years. Well, he’s coming up here to Boston next month to visit,” said Henry with a smile, looking forward to seeing his old friend.
“It’ll be nice to see him again,” said Brenda with a smile, as she always liked Chuck.
“Yeah, I do miss working with good ole Chuck,”
said Henry. “And we won’t talk about you know who.”
“You better not,” said Brenda.
Kent and Linus glanced at each other, and they knew exactly the scumbag Henry was referring to.
They continued to talk during supper, but it was about other stuff.
They finished dinner.
“Let’s head off to the den,” said Henry.
Kent followed his daddy out of the dining room and into the den. Linus stayed and helped Brenda clear the table.
Once inside the den, Henry opened a guitar case and removed that nineteen-fifty-five Gibson J-45
sunburst acoustic guitar. It was the same one from the photo album.
He removed the guitar from the case and sat in one of the chairs in the den. “Grab the other guitar; we haven’t jammed in a while,” said Henry, then strummed out a D chord on the guitar.
Kent grabbed the other guitar case. I can’t play. He said and wondered how he could get out of embarrassing himself.
He opened the case and saw a nineteen sixty-two Gibson LG-1 sunburst acoustic guitar. A memory popped into his head the second he stared at that guitar.
It was Christmas in nineteen sixty-two, and this Gibson was a present from Henry. He picked up the guitar, and it suddenly felt really good in his hands.
Thousands of memories of him playing that acoustic guitar popped into his head. I can play it! He cried out for joy in his head.
Kent sat down with that acoustic guitar, and he and his daddy played guitars, which was bittersweet.
Kent smiled while strumming out a G chord, knowing he gave his father a stay of execution.
They played guitars for an hour, and then Kent left with Linus to stay at his house for the night.
Kent left Linus’ house early Tuesday morning. He drove his sweet new Camaro down the Interstate and headed off to the west for Ohio.
Life was finally sweet!
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