Dumping Grounds (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 1) (25 page)

Joshua went up the stairs and out of the house. He suspected that Vernon and Earl were hiding in the tunnels awaiting a chance to get back to their trophies. He did not believe they would take flight without trying to take the heads with them. He had told Metcalf to be alert. He intended to flush them out if they were in the tunnels.

After Joshua left the room, Metcalf took note of the locks on the doors. He locked the double doors to the coffin room and the door to the autopsy room. The only door that was not locked was the door leading to the tunnels.

There was nothing for him to do now, but wait.

Joshua entered the barn as quietly as he could. He searched the large barn, which doubled as a garage. In it, there was an old hearse and several other vehicles, including a horse drawn carriage.

The automobiles looked as though they had not been used in years. Seeing all the dust on the vehicles, he wondered how Vernon and Earl transported the bodies to the dumpsites. He had seen no other vehicles at the house. Did they transport all of them by boat? It seemed an impossible task.

Joshua knew all the bodies had been found in fields near watered areas, swamps, creeks, and bayous. He had no doubts that all of the tributaries led back to
a
river, but he doubted they
all
led back to the Escatawpa River. He did not think there was anyone who knew the delta well enough to go from one river to the other by way of streams and other tributaries. The Tombigbee River was a good twenty miles east of the Escatawpa and there were dozens of bayous between them. Moreover, the Pascagoula River was that much or more to the west of it, with just as many bayous between them. Vernon and Earl bound to have some other mode of transportation; he just needed to find it.

After a thorough search of the barn, Joshua found no entrance to a tunnel. And, unless it was underneath the vehicles, there was none.

He walked out and around to the side and then the back of the barn. On the backside of the barn there was a lean-to attached. Parked under it, was a newer model pickup with a camper shell. It was perfect for hauling and concealing bodies.

Joshua walked to the back of the truck, raised the hatch of the camper shell, and then peered into the back of the truck. It was clean as a whistle, but that did not mean they had not used it to transport the bodies; it just meant that they cleaned up afterwards.

As Joshua walked around to the other side of the barn, he saw the opening of a storm cellar attached to the barn wall. He went over, opened it and shined the flashlight down into the opening. It was dark, but he could tell no one was in there.

He went down into the cellar to see if there was an entrance to a tunnel, and sure enough, there was one. In it, there were two doors. Opening the door, Joshua felt a gust of cool air; it smelt musty, but he smelt something else too. He smelt human decomposition. He shined his light in and saw a pile of heads in the center of the 12 by 12 room. They were all men’s heads from what he could tell.

He turned and walk to the other door. When he opened it, he felt another rush of cool air. It too, smelt musty. As he shined his light ahead of him, he saw it was a long tunnel.

He entered the tunnel and made his way to an intersection. One tunnel went left, the other, straight ahead. If his estimations were right, if he stayed straight, he was headed for the main house.

Joshua continued with his firearm at the ready. He would rather take the boys alive if possible, but he would damn sure shoot them if he had to.

He shined his light ahead and then turned it off and walked in darkness. After a few yards, he would turn the flashlight back on and shine it ahead of him, just to make sure he was not passing up another intersection.

The semicircle tunnels were brick lined. Joshua could tell the bricks were likely done by slave labor; they appeared to be very old and homemade.

As he made his way further through the tunnel, Joshua could hear music playing. Although vaguely at first, as if the source was far away. He thought Deputy Davis had turned off the radio after they rescued Emma, but this did not sound like a radio, it sounded more like his 8-track player sounded. The further he went through the tunnel the clearer the words became. Joshua could clearly hear a song called “Highway Song” playing from somewhere above him. As he got beneath what should be the house, he began to hear other noises. No longer wanting to be stealthy, Joshua turned on the flashlight and hurried along the tunnel. He was concerned for Metcalf’s wellbeing.

John Metcalf had become preoccupied with the heads of the women and animals and had lured himself into a false sense of being alone. Suddenly, he realized that music was playing somewhere nearby.

His revolver lay on a shelf a few feet away where he undoubtedly had laid it down while examining the heads.

He wanted to kick himself for forgetting the sheriffs warning to stay alert.

He took several steps toward his firearm and quickly grabbed it up, swung around and watched the door to the tunnel. The door suddenly opened and he almost peed himself, because although he was watching for it to open, he was not expecting it when it did.

Joshua pushed open the door and stood there. John Metcalf let out a sigh of relief. Joshua could tell from Metcalf’s expression that he had scared the living bejesus out of him, but now that he knew John was all right, he needed to find where the music was coming from.

He motioned to Metcalf to remain quiet and then eased toward the door to the autopsy room. Leaning his ear against the door, Joshua knew that was where the sound of music was coming from. The song quit and another song began playing; it was Black Sabbath’s song, War Pigs.

Stepping back, Joshua turned toward John Metcalf. Before he could speak, a commotion at the door to the tunnel drew both men’s attention. The door swung open. The force of it opening caused it to bang against the wall.

Joshua saw a man standing there. The man was wearing a rubber pig head and held a machete aloft.

Before Joshua realized what he was doing, he swung his revolver in that direction and pulled the trigger! The masquerader dropped to the floor and flopped like a fish out of water several times before his movement stilled.

As soon as the echo from the gunshot quieted, they heard someone banging on the opposite side of the door to the autopsy room.

At first, Joshua thought whoever it was, was beating the door with their fists, but then the bangs became more forceful and he saw a blade burst through the metal door, and then it done it again. He could tell by the protruding blade that it was an axe. They damn well meant to chop through the door!

If, and when they managed to break through, he knew he would have to shoot whoever it was. He was not about to try to reason with someone wielding an axe, no more than he had with the pig head wearing, machete toting man.

The machete toting, pig head wearer was trying to get to his knees. Metcalf had finally thawed enough to move. He kicked the machete away from pig-head, and then picked it up. Joshua turned his attention back to the door and ax-man. He knew it was useless to try to shoot through the door, so he unlocked it, turned the knob and then stepped back. The next time Ax-man swung his axe, it cut deep into the door and the door swung in almost unarming Ax-man, who quickly recovered and then yanked the axe out of the door. He raised the axe over his head and moved toward Joshua. Joshua squeezed the trigger.

The bullet hit Ax-man square in the middle of his forehead; he dropped to the floor.

Joshua stood there watching the flow of blood pooling around Ax-mans head. Sudden movement caught Joshua off guard. The force of Pig-heads attack knocked him off his feet. Even weaponless, the pig head wearer was a force to reckon with.

Joshua’s own injuries prevented him from defending himself as well as he could have if he was not injured. Before he knew it, Pig Head was on top of him, choking him. Joshua managed to get his right arm free and swung hard, hitting his attacker up side the head.

Pig head’s rubber head, suddenly came off in the struggle, flipped several times and then went flying across the room.

The blood squirting up out of his neck was unexpected and Joshua watched, fascinated as the spurts of blood shot upward into the air.

After a moment, Joshua shoved his assailant off him and scrambled to his feet. He turned in time to see Metcalf drop the machete to the floor.

“Sheriff Stokes, I didn’t know what else to do. I did not want to shoot at him and risk hitting you. I had a clear swing at his head though.”

“You did good, Son,” Joshua said, placing a hand on Metcalf’s shoulder. “Now, all we have to worry about is the paperwork.”

“We still have to identify all these women, Sheriff. We’re gonna have a heck of a time doing that.”

Joshua looked around the room. “Yeah, I know Son, but at least these two maniacs won’t be killing anymore women or men either for that matter. I found their stash of men’s heads in a cellar beneath the barn. Must have been a dozen or so of them; they most likely belong to the bodies found over in George County. None of them were old and dusty like some of the female heads in here were though.”

“We will eventually get to the bottom of it all, Sheriff. I’m just glad we could save that girl, Emma.”

“Too bad, we didn’t catch them sooner; we could’ve saved a few more.” Joshua was thoughtful.

The distance from the back porch to the sandbar was not far, but to Joshua’s aching body, it seemed a mile.

Stars dotted the night sky; some bright, some dull; some that twinkled, seeming to move slightly toward him and then away from him.

Joshua lay on his back, listening to the river as it flowed lazily by, pulled south toward the gulf waters. Contemplating, searching his soul, watching the night sky for shooting stars. He and his mother had done that quite often when he was a child. Joshua had thought about her all the way home from Citronelle.

After years of pushing her from his thoughts, the day she left was as fresh in his mind as if it had occurred the day before.

It was a bright sunny day in April, a few days after his twelfth birthday. He had come home from school and rushed into the house, expecting to find his mother in the kitchen with cookies and milk waiting for him on the table. He always shared his day with her as he ate them, but his mother was not home. She never came home.

His father never said much at all about her leaving; at least not to Joshua. The only thing he said to him was that she had a restless heart. Saying someone has a restless heart, does not explain much to a twelve year old who misses his mother and wonders where she is.

However, after what he saw in Citronelle, Joshua wondered if his mother left by choice. He even wondered if her head was among those on the shelves in the trophy room. After all, some of them looked as if they could have been there thirty or forty years.

Even now, a grown man, it hurt his heart to think of her. It was painful for him to look back to that time in his life. Involuntarily, he winced as he forced himself to face his thoughts, even the darkest of them.

Joshua knew his mother would never have left him of her own free will, especially not like that, without so much as a word. She adored both him and his father and she had treated them like royalty.

He wondered how or why his father could have accepted that she had run off and left them. They were always loving toward one another and they never argued that he was aware of, and he was sure he would have heard them if they had. His bedroom was next to theirs.

One night, after his mother left, he was lying on the hood of his father’s car watching for shooting stars. He heard his father come out onto the porch.

“You have a restless heart like your mother did,” his father said, looking up toward the sky. “One day, you’ll wander off and never come back, same as she did.”

His father’s voice quivered slightly and Joshua wondered if he was crying.

He seemed sad much of the time. It was the first time he had referenced his mother in weeks.

When Joshua questioned him about his mothers leaving, he walked into the house and ignored the question. After that, Joshua never asked him about his mother again. Joshua now wondered about his father’s use of past tense when he referred to his mother’s restless heart. Did his father suspect she was dead?

Looking back, Joshua realized that no one ever spoke of his mother after she left. He never knew his mother’s family. He figured it was because she was from Mexico. At least he thought she was from there. For all he knew, she could have been born right there, in Mobile County. Her parents could have been some of the migrant workers that frequented the area.

On the other hand, maybe what Jimmy James, an older boy at school who use to pick on him, said was true.

Jimmy James told him his mama was a McIntosh Cajun and when Joshua got mad and tried to slug him, he knocked Joshua down and kept on saying it, rubbing salt in the wounds. Calling her a McIntosh Cajun, was the same as calling her a nigger.

Everyone knew that after the Civil War, the freed slaves went there and mixed with the Indians…

When Joshua told his mama what Jimmy James had said, she smiled and told him that Jimmy James lacked self-confidence, which was why he picked on others.

After his father died, Joshua searched the county marriage records looking for information on his mother. All he found was that she had listed her parents and place of birth as “unknown.” When he asked his grandmother Stokes about her, she told him all she knew about his mother was that she was raised in the Catholic Orphanage in Mobile and his father had met her in high school at a football game.

The orphanage closed in the early 1940s, no one he asked knew where the records were stored. Joshua had given up searching for information after that.

On his way home from Citronelle a song called Simple Man, by the band Lynyrd Skynyrd played on the radio. The singer’s words brought back memories of conversations Joshua had with his mother, but he was not sure if they were real or imagined.

It would be hard to remember exact conversations after all those years; it had been almost forty years since she disappeared. He barely remembered her face. He did have a picture of her somewhere; it was in a box in one of his closets.

The words of the singer “come sit beside me, my only son” brought with them a flood of memories; like the one about Jimmy James. Maybe that was when she motioned for him to come and sit beside her on the couch.

He remembered his mother patting the couch and motioning for him to come sit beside her. He did not remember looking at her face, only at her hands she had folded and laid in her lap after patting the couch.

He remembered her telling him that everything was going to be fine. She told him the good Lord would take care of everything as long as they were diligent with their prayers and respectful of others.

Joshua believed himself to be a simple kind of man. He did not want much out of life. All he needed was a roof over his head, and he wanted to be left alone when he was not in the mood to talk.

Occasionally, he became lonesome and needed female companionship, but he did not need a woman around permanently; he had proven that by staying single all these years.

As he lay there thinking of his childhood, more memories of his mother returned. Joshua remembered how much his mother liked going to church. She went every time the doors opened and she usually took him with her.

She had given up Catholicism and converted to Pentecostal Holiness. The little Jesus Name cinderblock church she attended was on Snow Road.

The preacher there was very loud when he preached. Some called him a fire and brimstone preacher. He held a bible aloft in one hand and shouted, sometimes to the point of excreting spittle as he spoke. His silver hair would flap around his head as he became more animated.

The churchgoers would shout, jump up and down and dance around the church… Joshua would be shivering on the pew. He thought all of them were foreigners. When they danced around the room, they spoke a different language.

Later, he learned that when the power of God fell on Pentecostal people, they spoke in tongues.

The West has its Latter Day Saints, the North, its Amish people, and the South has an abundance of Methodists, Catholics, and Southern Baptists, but none has the enthusiasm of the Pentecostal believers when it comes to worshiping the Holy Spirit. They worship with abandon when in the Spirit.

Joshua had seen grown men jump up and down with their arms straight up, reaching toward the heavens, their hands going up and down through a turned on ceiling fan. He kept watching for their hands to be cut slap off the ends of their arms, but the blades never touched them.

Once, the old silver haired preacher suddenly stopped preaching, gazed around the room, and then said there was a demon amongst them!

He told the church to keep their thoughts and their hearts on God and repeat after him. He said the name of Jesus three times in a row; so did the members of the congregation. On the last Jesus, the backdoor of the church opened and closed on its own. He thanked the Lord for ridding them of the demon and then went right back to preaching without missing a stroke.

Joshua had not set foot in church, other than to attend his father and grandparents funerals, since his mother left. He regretted it sometimes, and he figured he would probably go to Hell for it, but he’d had no desire to go. He knew there was a God and he knew there was a Devil; he had seen too much not to believe in them. Maybe one day he would go to church; he figured he still had time to redeem his soul from the Fires of Hell.

Yes, the more he thought on it, the more he knew his mother would not have left on her own. Something had to have happened to her; either something that his father did not know about or he had something to do with her disappearance… The latter thought, was not really a possibility in Joshua’s mind.

He did not believe his father could have hurt his mother, no matter what she did, even if she had been screwing around with another man. However, Joshua did not think that had happened either.

He believed that Vernon and Earl’s father had abducted his mother and killed her. That was why she disappeared without a word. Joshua stood and walked back toward the cabin.

He dug a hole under a silver birch tree at the corner of the back porch and buried Jack. Then he sat down in his rocker, lit a smoke, and poured a glass of whiskey. It was going to be another long night.