One Deadly Sister

possible. His jumpsuit was itchy and hot. He could smell the snoring drunk a couple of feet away. Over the next few hours, he would hear the clang of a door and indistinct voices. Blurry shadows would move past in the hallway. More shadows and voices as he slipped in and out of troubled sleep.

Chapter 8

That night the news about the shooting raced through the small town. As rumor had it, the perpetrator was a hit man with a Philadelphia crime connection; a thug who had wormed his way close to the trusting senator and brutally assassinated him. Half of the citizens were phoning the other half telling them to turn on the TV.

When the Sunday paper hit the street the next morning, it confirmed the unbelievable. Outraged, the citizens read about the ruthless stranger who had shot the senator. Even those who had opposed Senator Towson in the past had to admit his death was an indisputable tragedy for the town and for Florida.

A handful of people had met Ray at the party a week ago and forgotten about him. Others were trying to catch his name from the TV item repeated every hour. Now, thanks to the newspaper, the entire town had the opportunity to frown at his blurred photo and read about this shadowy stranger from up north.

A record for Sunday circulation was set that morning, the paper sold out within an hour.

Ray was oblivious to the commotion outside. He was sitting on his bunk craving a cup of coffee when Beau Cobb hurried up to his cell waving the newspaper. “Seen the paper, man?”

“No, it was missing from my breakfast tray, they forgot the rosebud as well.”

“Well, you’re all over the front page.” Beau passed the thick paper through the bars.

Ray was stunned to see his scary driver’s license picture on the front page. Alongside, Al Towson smiled out in a charming studio pose. The headline, SENATOR TOWSON FOUND MURDERED. …his campaign manager, and long time aide, Anthony Hackett, discovered the senator’s body in the Towson residence Saturday evening. Mr. Hackett was to accompany the candidate to a campaign function and became concerned when there was no answer on the victim’s phone. Mr. Hackett and the building maintenance man discovered the body. A person of interest is in custody. The Governor is expected to make a statement later today. The Miami Herald is reporting it as an assassination. Party officials in Tallahassee couldn’t be reached for comment. A spokesman at the FBI regional office in West Palm Beach had no comment….

In the twenty-four hours since Loraine Dellin’s urgent phone call, Ray had progressed from an unknown to a person of interest, and according to Beau Cobb on up to an alleged assassin.

“Beau, you said Goddard was a rookie detective. Does this town have the resources to make an adequate investigation?”

“You asking are the police any good? Not bad. They routinely bring in the state crime lab for back up, for DNA, and all the tricky junk. They have state investigators available in Tallahassee but the local state attorney here seldom uses them. He doesn’t like to give up any control. Of course, he’s never handled anything this big. Now, if someone starts thinking you’re a hit man from Philadelphia, the FBI will show up fast.”

Ray guessed Beau loved hanging around, thrilled to be on the inside of a big deal crime, and chilling with the perpetrator. “Beau, can you fill me in on a few things?”

“Well, here’s how it is, man. I’m not gonna make anything off your bail bond, you know, because like there won’t be any. Gonna cost you if you want services. I’m not sure if the tabloids are gonna come through like they said and buy my story. Hey, that reminds me, they want me to sneak out a picture of you.”

“Absolutely not!” Ray hoped the guy was joking about the tabloids. “How about twenty bucks to get a couple of things for me and fill me in a bit?” Ray wondered if the cops were also paying Beau to report these conversations.

“Are you one of those rich guys? You look like one of those trust fund babies.”

“Getting poorer by the minute.”

“Okay, twenty’s cool. Now if you really are a Philadelphia hit man all my favors are free.” He made a weak laugh. “Don’t want my kneecaps shot off, know what I’m saying? Saw that in a movie.”

“How do I pay you for things, they took my money.”

“I’ll keep track. Of course, I know a lot of inside police stuff from upstairs, can’t give that out,” Beau said with a slight swagger.

“Tell me how to find a lawyer on a Sunday.”

“You might not find one on any day. Word upstairs is no lawyer around here is going to defend the perp of the Towson murder. They’re afraid the lynching party will string them up alongside you.” He chuckled. “Just a little jail house humor there.”

“I know the judge will appoint one if I can’t afford it. But I want someone competent. I can afford it, within reason anyway. Problem is I must find one.”

“The judge will ask you if you have counsel, and you tell him you need help to find one. What else?”

“Did Towson have enemies?”

“Sure, goes with the territory. A man of the common people, so he stepped on a lot of big toes. So those people didn’t want to see him make Governor.”

Ray guessed Beau hadn’t thought up that cliche all by himself. “Who are those people?”

“You are those people, according to the talk upstairs.”

“What about love triangles, jealous husbands, and so on.”

“Don’t think much about that sort of stuff, I’m more into car chases, junk like that. Oh, I get it, man. You’re wondering who wanted him dead. So for twenty bucks I’m supposed to solve the crime for you?”

Ray tried to bring the pieces together. “Do you know a Norma Martin?”

“There’s Nutty Norma. She’d come over here and do you right through the bars. Just let me know.” He grinned. “Guess you don’t mean her. Let’s see, Norma Martin? Don’t think so. Is she hot?”

“How about Tammy Jerrold?”

Beau brightened. “Of course, I know her.” He plainly had given some thought to this subject.

“How do you know her? She’s a generation ahead of you.”

“She’s around the city offices a lot. Yeah, she’s pretty old, but got a smoking hot body, have you seen the rack on that babe? And they’re real. The only forty year old I’d ever bang.”

“You’re a man of high standards. Was she romantically involved with the senator?”

“Romantically involved? Man, I’m gonna start talking like that. You mean like was he doing her? Now you see when I talk, people know what I’m saying. When you talk, people have to think. How did you zero in on them two, you being new in town?”

“What’s your guess, were they—banging?”

“You think a powerful man like the senator is gonna let that nice stuff jiggle around him and let it go to waste, get real.”

“I know she doesn’t dress flashy, but I was told she’s a pushover.”

“Only in my dreams, man. You’ve seen her? Is she gravy or what?”

“Spectacular,” Ray said going along with it.

“Didn’t think of spectacular, that’s cool. So the dude’s looking for a get-out-of-jail-free card. Depends on the evidence don’t it? Depends on how it all shakes down. You can have many suspects, all of them with shitty alibis, and it don’t mean zip if the lab puts you at the crime scene. And that’s just what they did.”

“What?”

“Oh, wasn’t supposed to say nothing. But you’ll find out soon enough. They found something proves you pulled the trigger on the senator.”