FIFTEEN

After he paid the taxi driver for dropping him off at the outlet center, Arnie Jacobson wandered around to the loading docks and scaled the security fence. He strolled across the back field and down the dirt road for half an hour before turning at the live oak with the rusted no trespassing sign nailed to it. He climbed over the barbed wire barrier and headed for the riverbank. As he crouched in the reeds and waited, his heartbeat thumped in his ears with each passing second.

Another man’s footsteps approached at last. Arnie stepped out of the shadows into the new moon’s glow. “You’re twenty minutes late.”

“I almost didn’t come at all.” His partner, Joe Winston, ran his hand through his dark hair.

“Why?” Arnie came closer.

“That was a dumb move, man. They’ll find out.”

“Wellington was a squealer. Once the pain pills began to wear off, he wanted to sing like a cardinal in spring in order to get some more. Didn’t even recognize me.”

Joe cocked his head to the side. “So, you let him confess?” 

“What can I say? I shoulda been a priest. I acted all concerned.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

"I gave him double the dose for good behavior, and he fell asleep again. The rest was easy.” Arnie let out a small laugh.

“You did what? Idiot. It’ll show up in the toxicology screen.”

Arnie crossed his arms over his chest. “Considering they do one.”

“You made it look like suicide. Of course they’ll do one.” Joe paced back and forth in the tall grass.

Arnie swatted the comment away. “So, what? It’ll show he overdosed. Big deal. Could be he got tired of waiting for it to take effect and took the quicker way out.”

His partner shoved his finger in the direction of Arnie’s blond moustache. “You better hope that’s what the coroner concludes. That doesn’t explain how he got the pills, though.”

“They were his. The hospital pharmacy gave them to him.”

“Yeah, but protocol states the officer in charge is supposed to keep them.”

“Perhaps Wellington snatched them when he wasn’t looking. I left the empty bottle under his cot and made sure his fingerprints were all over it.” Arnie placed his hand on a tree trunk. “Quit worrying. Wellington had a history of instability. He was volatile.”

Joe scoffed. “You mean he was nuts? Not the way his parents report things.”

“Well, parents often wear blinders. Anyway, why would they think any foul play occurred, Joe? The kid screwed up, felt guilty, panicked, and did himself in.”

“What about that Alamoville cop?”

Arnie pushed off from the cypress tree and met him nose to nose. “Branson doesn’t know a thing. The crushed-up pills I slipped into his coffee knocked him out. The man is too proud to ever admit he fell asleep on the job.”

“And if he does, you figure the police doc will say it was an adrenaline crash after the manhunt.”

Arnie’s moustache twitched as he tapped his temple. “Now you get it. By the time he does come forward and confess, if he does, the pills will be well out of his system.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Arnie took two steps forward. “You’re sure no one saw you come here?”

“Positive. Parked the car two miles up the road at the rest area. You?”

“Took a cab to the mall and walked the rest of the way.”

Joe nodded. “So, when do we get our money, Arnie?”

“Tonight. Under the bridge by the park.”

Arnie hissed under his breath. “Um. No. You won’t.”

“Right. See ya then.” Joe turned to head back up the bank.

Arnie screwed the silencer into the muzzle of his gun, aimed just to the right of his partner’s left shoulder blade and pulled the trigger. The idiot dropped like a stone to the dirt. The bullet did its job, lodging deep inside his chest. Most of the bleeding would be contained internally.

Arnie quickly snatched Joe’s personal belongings and then took the roll of duct tape from his pocket and wrapped three large rocks around his partner’s hips and legs. He placed rocks across each of the arms, securing them to the torso. He scraped the skin off the fingertips with his pocket knife blade to destroy their prints and wiped the blood on Joe’s shirt. Next, he raised his fist and repeatedly whacked Joe in the jaw to dislodge most of the dead man’s teeth. He pulled them with a pair of pliers to destroy any dental signatures, depositing the teeth in a handkerchief, sealing it in a baggie, and pocketing it.

“Bye, Joe. It’s been real, man.” Arnie rolled him into the San Gabriel River. It took five seconds for the body to disappear under the black silky water, barely illuminated by the moonlight. “Bon appétit, catfish.”

He walked two miles back to Joe’s car parked near the highway. The man’s signature black hoodie lay on the passenger seat. Arnie ran his hand over it. “Sorry, Joe. You were too much of a liability, man.”

Arnie drove to an all-night fast food joint. He stuffed the wadded-up teeth and pocket knife deep into the already brim-full dumpster, disturbing a dozen or so flies. He swatted them away and walked to the entrance around the other side. In the dim lighting he checked over his clothes to make sure he’d avoided getting blood or dirt on himself. No need for any clues that could link him to the crime if he could help it. He was smarter than that.

His watch read ten forty-five. “Time for a burger and shake.” He pushed open the glass doors and stepped into the almost vacant restaurant.

“Howdy, handsome.”

“Hey. Betty Lou, isn’t it? Number three, please. Oh, and super-size the fries.”

“Aren’t y’all still investigating that burglary? Where’s your partner?”

“Heck if I know. Didn’t show up for our shift. I’m not his mother, am I?”

The order taker chuckled as she smacked her gum and turned in his meal ticket. “On the house. You cops have been through enough this week.”

Arnie winked at her. “Thanks. You’re an angel.”