The Devil's Water: Scenic City Murder Series #1 Page 5

  “Alright.” Tasha said as she stood up from her chair and walked toward the door. “Keep me informed.”

  CHAPTER 13

  The interview room was in the basement and Clutch really had no idea what he was walking into. As he swung open the large metal door which connected the stairwell with a long hallway of doors, he began to have a clue. Loud angry voices could be heard coming from the last interview room on the left. Two Vice detectives, Paul Merideth and Bruce Varnell, were standing at the one way mirror watching the fireworks.

  “Bruce, go in and get Gunnar.” Clutch ordered as he strolled up to the mirror. He could see Gunnar Pfoltz leaning over the small, bone-thin frame of a black woman who looked a lot older than her years. Janese Dupri was a drug addict as well as a prostitute and she would do absolutely anything if she was needing a fix. Clutch watched as Bruce Varnell whispered in Gunnar’s ear and watched both detectives head for the door. As Gunnar exited the interview room, he removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face with it. “Damn bitch spit on me.” He said exasperated.

  “Look, tell me what’s going on.” Clutch said, trying to keep his voice low and even.

  “Well, I went in there to talk to her about what was going on with the case. What, if anything, she saw.” Gunnar began. “She wouldn’t give me anything. She just started cussing me and screaming at me to get the fuck away from her. Pretty much, it all went downhill from there. Fuckin’ whore.”

  Gunnar’s face was still red and he was sweating profusely. “Take a timeout, Gunnar. Go back to your office.” Clutch said.

  “Hey, I got this. I mean, I can handle her.”

  “No you can’t. You just lost your cool and now you’ve called her two derogatory names. I know you hate prostitution, Gunnar, and I know you hate drugs but you really need an attitude adjustment. That ain’t gonna get you very far in your chosen career path. Now take ten and go get some water.”

  Mclutcheon watched as Gunnar moved down the hall toward the water cooler. “Excuse me, gentlemen.” Clutch said to Merideth and Varnell as he opened the interview door. Janese Dupri was sitting in a chair drumming her fingers on the table which sat between her and one other chair in the room. Clutch moved over toward the chair and took a seat. Janese wasn’t looking at him. Suddenly, she inhaled and let out a deep harsh breath folding her arms across her chest. There was silence in the room for a full 3 minutes while Clutch studied her. He noticed that she began to shake her left leg up and down almost violently. Occasionally, Janese would look over at him, catch his eye and then roll her own eyes heavenward. After the 3 minutes were up, Clutch smiled at Janese and leaned over the table clasping his hands on it.

  “OK. Now you ready to talk?”

  “I ain’t saying nothin’ to you Goddamn pigs.”

  Clutch continued smiling and leaned back. “Alright. I just figured you might want to talk about Flo. Maybe I was wrong.”

  “Flo’s dead.”

  “Maybe not. We have no reason to believe she’s dead yet.” Mclutcheon said, still watching her. Janese reached up and rubbed her nose. Clutch noticed her sniffing quite a bit.

  “She’s your best friend. Don’t you care about her?”

  “Hey, people come and people go. That’s life on the streets, ya feel me? Guess you wouldn’t really know about that though.” She smirked at Clutch and looked down toward the floor. She still had her arms folded tightly over her chest.

  “Well, we think she’s alive and we want to find her. I’m not here to give you the third degree, Janese. I’m just here to find out about your friend. If there’s any information you can give us.”

  “I ain’t tellin’ you shit, ya feel me?” she snarled at Mclutcheon.

  Clutch let out a deep sigh and gave her a blank look. He rubbed his hand across his face and jammed the other hand in his pocket.

  “Well, I guess we’re gonna have to go another route with this. I been watchin’ you Janese. I see that you’re all jittery and you’re sniffing your nose like crazy. Tell me, you need a line or two?”

  “What the fuck you talkin’ about?” Janese asked. Clutch had definitely gotten her attention.

  “Oh, Janese, c’mon. I know you need to snort some coke to feel better. The two guys standing behind that mirror know you need some coke. That and the crack pipe are the main two reasons you’re hookin.”

  “I don’t do drugs.” She said in a low tone and darted her eyes away from his gaze.

  “Do I need to go look up your rap sheet? I mean, it’s about as long as my arm and most of the offenses have to do, in some way, with drugs.”

  “I don’t take drugs.” She repeated as she stared at the floor, arms still crossed in front of her.

  “Ok, Janese. Look, I got all day. I got into tomorrow and the next day and on and on. I’m sure there’s something we can book you on right now. Wonder how much coke and crack you might find in county lockup?”

  Janese shot Mclutcheon a glare and her eyes narrowed to slits. They stared at each other for at least a full minute. Finally, Janese buckled. “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know if you saw anything suspicious the night Flo went missing. Rico was little help but I thought you might give us a fresh perspective.”

  Janese looked away from Clutch and at the one way mirror. He could tell that she was trying to recall that night. Some time passed before she finally uncrossed her arms and leaned over toward him.

  “Yeah, maybe I seen a dark blue car. Domestic. Maybe a Chevy or a Ford. Late model.”

  “What made you notice it?”

  “It passed by several times. Trollin’. I never saw it before and what made it stand out was the fact that most the johns around there come by once or twice. Not over and over again. ”

  “Anything else you notice? Maybe a license number?”

  “No. I didn’t see no license plate.”

  “What about the driver?”

  “Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes again. “He was white. He had a green baseball hat on and he might’ve had a beard.

  “Is that all you can remember, Janese?”

  “Yeah, that’s it.” She finally said. She stood up, stretched her arms high above her and arched her back. “Now, can I go?”

  “Through that door and one of the detectives will show you out.” Clutch responded. Daniel A. Mclutcheon was a happy man. He finally had a decent lead.

  CHAPTER 14

  It was 10:20 the next morning and Tasha Yoder jerked awake from a deep sleep. She could feel sweat trickling off her forehead and running into the hair at her temples. She had been having nightmares. Terrible ones. She couldn’t really remember any of the details except a bad car crash and she had been behind the wheel. She felt across the bed and was glad there wasn’t a human sized lump lying there. She was alone. An overwhelming thirst and cotton mouth brought Tasha to her feet and she stumbled into the bathroom. She leaned over the sink, cupped her hands in under the faucet and brought the water to her mouth. She drank like this for several minutes, feeling as though she would never quench her thirst. Finally, she splashed some cold water on her face and grabbed a towel to dry it. Tasha felt like she just might pass out. She was beginning to see small dark circles in her line of vision which were blocking everything else out. She made it to the bed just in time and flung herself, face up, on the mattress. She was sweating again. When the episode passed, she got up and walked slowly into the kitchen. She decided she just needed some coffee. As it was brewing, she looked down at her hand. She couldn’t keep it still. She was trembling as sweat continued to pour down her forehead and onto her cheeks. What’s happening to me? She thought as the coffee maker signaled that it was done. Tasha took a mug from the cabinet and poured herself a full cup of joe. Her hands were still trembling a little and as she brought the cup to her mouth, she sloshed some coffee on the floor. “Shit” she said as she grabbed a towel and threw it on the floor. She wiped the spill up with her foot. Her shaking hand troubled Tasha a litt
le. She remembered what her dad would’ve said. “You just had too much to drink last night, girl!” and then he would laugh, his huge belly jiggling. Her mother, however, had been a psych nurse on an alcohol and drug unit. Tasha knew her mother would tell her that she was beginning to enter a stage of physical dependence on alcohol. “You’re having the shakes and you’re starting to DT a little bit” her mother would say in a calm but judgmental tone. Mom never had a problem with drink or drugs and it was anybody’s guess why she chose that as a career. Tasha headed for the bathroom. She looked in the mirror and stuck out her tongue. It was hurting a little and for good reason. It looked like raw meat and was as red as Santa’s outfit. If her mother was still alive, she would dose Tasha with some B12. She was still looking in the mirror and noticed the whites of her eyes. They looked normal to her but how could she be sure? She opened her mouth and compared them to her teeth. Tasha’s teeth were darker but then again she was a smoker. How much could that really tell her? She was still sweating profusely as she examined the color of her face. The skin looked a little sallow. Finally, she lifted her night shirt and examined her stomach area. She looked at the right side and, to her satisfaction, there wasn’t a visible lump. That’s all I need is cirrhosis. Tasha decided that maybe she would just quit drinking. She didn’t want to wreck her health and die at a very young age. After all, Mclutcheon had done it for over twenty years. Tasha didn’t want to go the 12 step route, though. That was for losers who just wanted someone to whine to. Suddenly, in the middle of that thought, the phone rang.

  Tasha turned the light off in the bathroom and walked out into the den to answer the phone. She caught it on the third ring.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, it’s Clutch. I got some new information on the case.”

  Tasha listened for what seemed like an hour as Mclutcheon went on and on. Nothing he was saying was sinking in. She knew she had heard something about a prostitute who was Flo’s friend and a dark blue domestic car. Other than that, she was at a loss.

  “Hey, are you listening to me?” Clutch suddenly asked.

  “Uh…yeah. Hey, did you ever see a movie called Days of Wine and Roses?”

  “Sure. It’s a classic. Jack Lemmon. Jack Klugman. It’s a must see for any alcoholic. Why?”

  “Well, you remember that scene where Lemmon was having DT’s? I mean, he was sweating and looked really sick, you know?”

  “Yeah, that’s what that stuff will eventually do to you if you can’t handle it. I know. I couldn’t.”

  There was a silence on the phone for several seconds. “Clutch, do you think I’m an alcoholic?” Tasha finally asked.

  “Well, Tasha. Do you?”

  “Damnit, don’t answer a question with a question!”

  “Hey, that’s what you learn in the program. You are the only one who can make that call.” Clutch responded. “For the record, from what I’ve witnessed, you have a major problem.”

  “Well, I don’t want the program. I can stop on my own.” Tasha said resolutely.

  “OK. Many have tried before you and many have failed. I’m not saying the program is for you but it would be a great place to start. I would encourage you to at least go once and see what it’s like.”

  “Hey, I’m not powerless over anything! I am a strong person. I am not weak.”

  “Alright, Tasha. I’m not going to argue with you about it. I’ve been down that road many times with other people. Some made it and are sober today. Some are in the grave. Ultimately, it’s your decision.”

  Tasha sat with the phone to her ear not saying a word. She was fuming mad. This wasn’t the conversation she had planned on having and quite frankly, it made her uncomfortable. She knew she could quit drinking. She would just cold turkey it. Swear off alcohol forever. That would show everybody. It would show her old boss at the FBI. It would show Clutch and it would show her mother who might not be alive to see it but somehow she would know. Tasha knew she would know.

  “There are meetings all over Chattanooga but I’m partial to the Friday night group at St. Mary’s Catholic Church. Free coffee and doughnuts and of course the meeting is free. I’ll leave you with that.” Clutch said as he interrupted her thoughts.

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” Tasha finally said dismissively. She hung the phone up and noticed that she felt a little better physically. Mentally, though, she was as mad as hell. She brought her hand up and noticed that it had finally stopped shaking. The words her father would’ve said came back to her in a rush. You just had too much to drink last night, girl! She would show them, goddammit. She would show them all. She had the willpower. That was all she needed. Tasha thought about the beer and the wine in the fridge. She thought about the liquor in the cabinet. Maybe she would just pour it out. Yeah. That was what she needed to do.

  Tasha walked over to the refrigerator and opened it. There, she saw two 12 packs of Corona and a case of Michelob Ultra. She reached up and checked the liquor cabinet. Three bottles of gin and a half bottle of Vodka. Money. All the money she had spent on that. She could see the dollars stacked up on a table in front of her. Tens and twenties floating around in the air. What a waste. Tasha closed the liquor cabinet and walked back in the den. She wouldn’t pour out the alcohol. Maybe someone else might drink it. Yeah. She would just wait to bring it out for a special occasion. No need to throw it away now.

  CHAPTER 15

  Hank Gamblin was sitting in his office looking at the leaves on the tree outside his window. A few of them were starting to turn brown. Fall was on the way. Hank leaned back in his desk chair with a satisfied smile on his face. He was about to play his hand and it was a very good one. He was about to deliver a strong left jab and hit the Chattanooga Police Department right between the eyes. He thought about Ryan Skopic for a moment. He’d never cared for him and he thought Mclutcheon to be a prick of the first order. Well, this was Mclutcheon’s baby and boy would he be surprised. Little did he know that he would be helping out his nemesis, good ol’ Hank. Yes, this was going to be a great story. One of the hallmarks of his career. Gamblin leaned over his desk and took another look at the photos. Everything was in order. Perfect. Now, all he needed to do was write the article. Hank opened up his lap top and began typing. He figured the story would go to press in the morning. He had plenty of time to finally sink that pack of assholes down at the PD.

  CHAPTER 16

  Daniel A. Mclutcheon was driving down I75, his hands tight on the wheel. He was so angry, he believed he could actually choke the living shit out of someone at that very moment. He glanced over in the passenger seat beside him. The morning paper lay face up with the huge headline staring out at him.

  FORMER FBI PROFILER HELPS WITH CASE

  Underneath, there were two pictures. One was of a much younger Mclutcheon in his dress blues. The other was a photo of a casket with several policemen carrying it. The casket was being taken into a large cathedral downtown. It was a funeral that Clutch remembered very well for he was one of the cops carrying the casket into the church. That was the day that he buried his best friend.

  He pulled into the police station and parked his car in its designated spot. He grabbed the paper and exited his car, slamming the door. The police department was all abuzz. Clutch walked down the hall toward his office speaking to no one. No one spoke to him either. When someone met his gaze, they quickly diverted their eyes and skittered away. His office door was ajar and when he opened it, he saw that Ryan Skopic was standing beside his desk. Skopic looked almost as pissed as Mclutcheon.

  “So what now?” Clutch asked, barely able to keep his voice civil.

  “Well, I’ve been answering phone calls all morning. God this is a mess.”

  “Gamblin just had to do it, didn’t he?”

  “He’s a reporter, Clutch. He’s also a real son of a bitch.”

  Clutch walked over to his desk and sat down. Skopic took a seat in the chair beside him. “I mean, Tasha didn’t deserve this. She begged me not to get he
r name involved in this. She didn’t want to be in the news. I should’ve protected her.” Clutch said, his eyes filling with tears.

  “There was nothing you could do, Clutch. Sometimes shit just happens. It was out of your control.”

  “That’s what my sponsor said this morning.” Clutch said, wiping a tear that was dripping down his cheek.

  “Wallace Yoder was the best friend any man could have. He was my confidant and my partner. He saved my life more than once. I only wish I could’ve saved his. I’ve gone back over that day a thousand times in my mind. What could I have done differently?”

  “Nothing Clutch. You did all you could. Wrong place wrong time. Young punk high on drugs didn’t even know where the fuck he was. He had a gun. He was going to kill himself. Wally tried to get the gun away from him and he fired at Wally instead. He was gut shot. He bled out in no time. It wasn’t your fault, Clutch.”

  “I still remember all the blood. I remember holding Wally as he died. He was in my arms when he died.” Clutch wiped at the constant stream of tears falling from his eyes. “And I remember having to tell Tasha and her mother. I drove over there. I still had blood on my clothes.”

  “Now, it’s just Tasha.” Skopic said quietly.

  “Yeah, Elaine died less than a year later. Cervical cancer. I think that’s when Tasha started drinking so heavy. Thank God I quit or I would have killed myself with the stuff.”

  “Have you talked to Tasha yet?”

  “No. Not yet and I dread it. I doubt she’s up yet but I probably need to talk to her before she finds out some other way. “

  Skopic leaned over the desk and grabbed the phone receiver. He handed it to Mclutcheon. “There’s no time like the present.” He said and offered Clutch a gentle smile. Skopic rose from his chair and opened up the office door. “You may need to give her some time but she’ll understand.” He said as he shut the door quietly behind him.