Chapter 10
Five minutes had passed.
Back in the woods near Meyers’ cabin, Kent became conscious. He got back on his feet. He had a splitting headache from Grant’s fist, smacking his forehead. He was also dazed and confused. It took him a few seconds to realize where he was and what had just happened.
He glanced around, and Grant was nowhere in sight. Something caught his eye. It was the sight of a flashing red light racing down the dirt road.
He glanced down and saw Angie down on the ground on her back, bare-ass naked. Her ripped off clothes were placed close to her body. Kent froze the second he saw the flashing red bubble gum rooftop light of the squad car racing down the dirt road. He didn’t know what to do when he saw the squad car screech to a stop. The front door flies open, and two police officers jump out of the car.
“Put your hands up!” yelled out Officer Malone while Officer Peter Smith had his 38-Special revolver aimed at Kent.
Kent knew this wasn’t good while he put his hands up in the air. He saw the two police officers inching their way over to him with their 38-Special revolvers aimed at him. “Shit,” he said, knowing he was in a world of trouble.
“Drop to your knees and put your hands behind your back,” said Officer Malone when he and his partner got six feet from Kent.
Kent obeyed, dropped to his knees and put his hands behind his back.
Officer Smith handcuffed Kent’s hands behind his back while Officer Malone kept his revolver aimed and ready to kill.
Officer Smith brought Kent up to his feet.
The two police officers saw Angie naked on the ground motionless with a blank dead stare in her eyes and her ripped clothes near her.
Officer Malone knelt down and felt her neck for a pulse. “She’s dead,” he said then picked up her clothes and did his best to give her some decency.
“You’re under arrest for murder,” said Officer Malone and he was furious. He punched Kent in his face knocking him down to the ground.
“Put this piece of shit in the back of the squad car and take him down to the station and book him,” Officer Malone told his partner then he glanced back at Angie. “And have the morgue come out here and also Detective Chambers and tell him to bring a camera. I’ll ride back with him,” said Officer Malone.
“You got it,” said Officer Smith and he walked handcuffed Kent to the squad car.
Officer Smith placed Kent in the rear of the squad car, while Officer Malone stood guard by Angie’s dead body.
Officer Smith got behind the wheel of the squad car, started it up, turned it around, and drove off down the dirt road.
Officer Malone stayed near Angie’s body and avoided looking at her. He was pissed because he knew she was a teenager but didn’t know her name.
Officer Smith’s squad car was halfway down the dirt road.
In the back seat, Kent started to squirm as the handcuffs behind his back began to dig into his wrists. “Can you please loosen these handcuffs? They’re cutting into my wrist.”
Officer Smith glanced in his rearview mirror and rolled his eyes.
“Can I get some aspirin? I have a splitting headache.”
Officer Smith ignored Kent while the squad car got to the end of the dirt road then made a right turn onto Route 12
Kent’s head pounded during the entire drive to the police station.
Once he arrived at the station, Officer Smith booked Kent for murder, removed his belongings from his jeans pocket that included his wallet and that sketch.
He was fingerprinted, had his mug shot snapped and placed in a small eight-foot by an eight-foot concrete block jail cell.
He returned to the office area, called Detective Chambers at home then he called the morgue. After that, he went to the coffee table and poured a cup of coffee. He sat down at his desk and couldn’t get the image of Angie’s dead naked body out of his head.
Fifteen minutes had passed.
Back at the crime scene, Detective Chuck Chambers drove down the dirt road in his nineteen fifty-six plain black four-door Chevrolet Bel-Air. He wore his standard brown suit, brown tie, and brown Fedora hat.
He parked his Bel-Air next to a white nineteen fifty-four Chevrolet panel truck that also just arrived a few minutes ago. The panel truck had “Warner Robins Morgue” painted in red letters on both sides of the truck.
Inside were the panel truck sat two guys from the morgue waiting for the okay to remove the body.
Detective Chambers got out of his Bel-Air with a Kodak Starflash Brownie camera in hand.
He walked over to Officer Malone still standing guard by Angie’s body.
“Oh my God, what kind of monster would do this?” said Detective Chambers while he got his camera ready.
Detective Chambers started snapping pictures of the crime scene, and of the dead unidentified teenager.
After he was done with that, he motioned for the morgue guys to do complete their job.
He and Officer Malone started scouring the area for any evidence.
Back at the Warner Robins police station, Kent sat on the uncomfortable bunk in that jail cell. His eyes welled up, knowing he was in deep trouble. “Why couldn’t I just have let history remained. I screwed up royally,” he quietly said.
Meanwhile, Grant drove his T-Bird around Macon.
He pulled his T-Bird into the parking lot of the Pink Pussy Cat lounge where other horny guys started to enter the lounge.
He got out of his T-Bird and strutted inside the lounge.
Back at the crime scene, Detective Chambers and Officer Malone finished scouring the crime scene and jotting down notes on his small note pad. They didn’t find any other evidence.
The two morgue guys had Angie in the body bag on the gurney. They placed the gurney in the rear of the panel truck and closed the rear doors.
Detective Chambers, along with Officer Smith, got in his Bel-Air. He started up his Bel-Air, turned his car around, and drove off down the dirt road.
The morgue panel truck was right behind Detective Chambers car.
A little while later, Detective Chambers had dropped Officer Malone off at the police station then he drove off.
Ten minutes later he pulled up to a residential house in Warner Robins. He parked his Bel-Air behind a black nineteen fifty Chevrolet panel truck with “Clint’s Camera Shop” painted on both sides of panels.
He got out of his car and walked to the front door and knocked.
The door opened, and fifty-eight-year-old Clint Woodard appeared. “Chuck, what a surprise.”
“Clint, I need a huge favor.”
“Sure.”
“I need this film developed right away. We had a murder tonight down at that old Moonshiners cabin. It was a teenage girl. We don’t know her name at this time.”
“Oh my, someone was killed down at Meyers’ cabin.”
“Yes. Can you get these developed tonight? It’s for the case file and then for the murder trial on our suspect.” said Detective Chambers handing Clint his Kodak Browning camera.
“You already arrested someone?”
“He was found by her body, and he’s now down at the station.”
Clint looked mad. “I hope he has a date with Old Sparky.”
“Oh, I’ll make sure he will.”
“I’ll run down to my shop immediately, Chuck,” said Clint as he always helped out the Warner Robins police department.
“Thanks, Clint,” said Detective Chambers and walked away and headed back to his Bel-Air.
He got back in his Bel-Air and drove off down the street.
Detective Chambers headed back to the station. He usually worked first shift but knew this overtime tonight would be for free. But he didn’t care since a teenager was murdered.
Once he got back to the station, he got a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk. He started reviewing his notes from his small note pad.
An hour had passed, and Clint entered the station with a large vanilla envelope in hand.
“I got those pictures developed,” said Clint and he looked pissed. “I want to flip the switch once after that guy gets strapped in Old Sparky,” he said after thinking about those pictures.
“Thanks, Clint,” said Detective Chambers after taking the envelope from Clint. “Send the Chief the bill.”
“I wonder how the fish are biting for him?” said Clint.
“Probably pretty good since he’s not back in the office,” said Detective Chambers while opening the envelope.
Clint walked away and headed back to the front doors, as he didn’t want to see those pictures of Angie’s dead body again. He left the station.
Detective Chambers blood boiled, seeing those pictures of the crime scene.
Ten minutes had passed, and Detective Chambers had Kent at a table in the interrogation room. He sat across the table from Kent.
“May I have some aspirin? I have a splitting headache.”
Detective Chambers looked across the table at Kent. “No. It serves you right for what you did,” he said, not having any sympathy for a guy that just killed a teenage girl. He continued to stare down Kent to make him feel uncomfortable, and it worked.
After a few seconds of staring at Kent, something felt familiar with his stranger. “Do I know you?” said Detective Chambers.
“I ah,” said Kent then Detective Chambers was a familiar sight to him. He recalled those days as a kid watching him playing softball with his daddy. And he remembered that photo he saw in his mom’s photo album. “I don’t think so. I just arrived in town a few days ago.”
Detective Chambers removed his small note pad and pen from his suit pocket. “What day?” he said, opening up his note pad and grabbing his pen.
“I arrived Wednesday night,” said Kent and Detective Chambers wrote that down.
“Where are you staying?”
“At the Peach Tree Motor Court.”
“Why are you here in my town?”
“I ah, I was thinking of getting a job down here,” said Kent, as this was the only viable excuse he could come up with.
“Where’s your car?”
“I came down here by Greyhound bus.”
Detective Chambers thought about his story for a few seconds. “So you came here by bus for a job but ended up killing a young teenage girl instead?” said Detective Chambers and refrained from reaching across the table and punching Kent. He saw his right black eye and figured one of the two officers hit him and rightly so.
“I swear, I didn’t kill her!’ said Kent and his eyes welled up.
“You were found by her dead body. I’d say it looks like you did kill her.”
“I didn’t kill her. Grant Bowers did.”
Detective Chambers wasn’t sure he heard correctly. “Did you say Grant Bowers?” he said while he jotted down that information.
“Yes, Grant Bowers. I saw him strangle her and tried to stop him, but he hit me, and I passed out. When I came to, I was near Angie’s naked body.”
“Did you say her name was Angie?”
“Yes, Angie Abbott. She’s the daughter of Colonel Abbott from the Air Force Base.”
“So you know this girl?”
“Briefly. She gave me a ride the other day from the Piggly Wiggly. It was raining.” “And I saw her yesterday on Route 12.”
Detective Chambers recalled that storm on Thursday. “You also said yesterday? Why did you see her?”
Kent started to wonder if he was digging his hole deeper. “I was walking down route twelve, and she saw me in her car. She pulled over, and we talked for a few minutes, then she drove off.”
“What did you talk about?”
“She said her date on Friday night canceled on her.”
“Do you know this date’s name?”
“No, she never told me.”
Detective Chambers jotted down some notes on his note pad then he looked at Kent. “How do you know Grant Bowers? You must know him since you gave me his name.”
Kent paused for a few seconds. “I saw him at the Peach Tree Diner during breakfast on Thursday morning. He had on an Air Force uniform, and I saw his name tag.”
“That explains his last name, but how do you know his first name?”
Kent pondered a believable answer for a few seconds. “Well, he had this blonde girl with him. He nibbled on her ear, and she called out his first name saying that that tickled.”
“Okay,” said Detective Chambers jotting down that information.
“Plus he tried to run over me when I left the diner and was walking back to the motor court.”
“Tried to run over you. Now why would he do that?” said Detective Chambers knowing this was probably bullshit.
“Because I saw that blonde giving him a blow job in his T-Bird in the diner parking lot.”
“Well, why would you spy on a guy getting a blowjob? Are you some kind of pervert I should be concerned about?”
“No sir, I’m not a pervert. I swear,” said Kent and he looked serious.
Detective Chambers thought for a few seconds then his eyes widened. “So, here’s how it went down. You asked this Angie Abbott girl to go hiking with you in the woods. You figured doing that would give you two the chance to be alone. You wanted some pussy. She refused. You got pissed off and then you raped and killed her.”
Kent looked at Detective Chambers and couldn’t believe what he just said. “No, no, that’s not what happened.”
“Then tell me the truth,” said Detective Chambers and couldn’t wait for another lie. “Why did you have this sketch of the Meyers’ cabin on your possession?”
“I went to the woods by Meyers’ cabin to film the cabin,” said Kent then he stopped and knew he had to change the reason a little.
“Film that cabin, why would anybody want to film that old dump?” said Detective Chambers thinking that was a bit odd and probably a lie.
“He was a Moonshiner. I was thinking of doing a documentary on it. Maybe selling the film.”
“To film the story about a Moonshiner?”
“Yes, sir.”
Detective Chambers thought about his story for a few seconds. “Apparently you don’t have a car, as a car wasn’t at the scene, so you walked all the way from the Peach Tree Motor Court to that area by Meyers’ cabin to film a Moonshiner’s cabin?”
“That’s correct.”
“That sounds so unbelievable.”
“Well, that’s why I was there.”
“Okay, so then what happened?”
“I heard Grant Bowers and Angie Bowers having an argument. He got her pregnant and wouldn’t marry her. She threatened to tell her daddy and have him put Grant in Air Force prison. So he started to strangle her. I tried to stop him, but he hit me. I…”
“You tried to stop him. He hit you. You passed out and woke up next to her naked dead body,” said Detective Chambers interrupting Kent.
“That’s what happened,” said Kent.
Detective Chambers reached in his suit jacket and removed a pack of Lucky Strike cigarettes. He took out a cigarette, lit it, took a drag then exhaled the smoke at Kent. “That’s total bullshit,” he said. “You were passed out, right?”
“That’s correct, sir.”
“So you didn’t actually see Grant Bowers kill Angie Abbott?”
Kent was a little surprised by that question but had to tell the truth. “Ah, no. I didn’t see him kill her, but I did see him try at first, so I assumed he finished the job.”
“You assumed,” said Detective Chambers.
Kent knew that he was his hole was being dug deeper and deeper.
Detective Chambers reached in his right suit pocket and removed Kent’s driver’s license. He slapped it on the table. “What kind of forged identification is this?” he said, placing his right index finger on the driver’s license.
Kent saw his driver’s license and cringed and now realized that would soon make his situation worse.
“Plastic, with your picture,” he said, glancing down at the license.
“Your picture has blondish hair, and it’s long.” “Are you trying to be a girl” “Are you one of those creeps that like to dress up as a woman?” “Maybe I can get you a dress to wear in my cell,” he added with a chuckle then he stared at Kent.
There were a few awkward moments of silence for Kent while he glanced down at his driver’s license.
“The issue date of October third, nineteen seventy-eight?” “And the birthday is nineteen fifty-one,” said Detective Chambers while he glared at Kent.
Kent kept his mouth shut and didn’t know what he could say to get out of this one. He now wished he left his driver’s license in the time machine.
“You have to be the dumbest murderer I’ve run across. You created this bizarre identification then you are so stupid that you put the issue date way out in the future,” he said then took another drag on his Lucky Strike. He exhaled the smoke at Kent.
Kent moved his face away from the smoke and knew his goose was cooked. “I don’t want to say anything until I talk with an attorney.”
“And then you have a birthday that makes you six years old,” said Detective Chambers taking another drag and blowing smoke in Kent’s face.
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 was going to 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 were 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 wasn’t going to get his butt kicked.
Detective Chambers walked to the room door, opened it, and stepped out in 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 over for evidence and didn’t find a movie camera,” he said and stepped back in 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, motioned for Kent to come with 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 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 were 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 on 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 that 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 it 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.
Back at Colonel Abbott’s quarters on the Air Force Base, he was on his third glass of Scotch, as he was 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 tonight.
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 got had a fellow officer that lived at the next-door quarters drive him to the morgue.
Detective Chambers 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 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.”