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Looking for BonesA "Mystery Contest" Honorable Mention
by
Sandra Seamans
Jeremiah Cobb stared at the girl through the Plexiglas partition that separated them. Her name was Daphne and she was wearing Daisy Duke shorts that hugged her firm young buttocks and showed off her long tanned legs. Her blouse was opened to expose the bumble bee tattoo that kissed the soft flesh of her firm young breast. And her eyes, you could dive into the deep blue of them and swim forever. But it was her hair that did him in. Long blond hair that trailed down her back to hug the curve of her hips. She was perfect. And he itched to touch her.
Their relationship had started with a single sheet of paper. A letter from this perfect young woman. In it, Daphne wrote that members her church group were writing letters to the convicts in Hillsdale Penitentiary where he was an inmate. Pen pals, she’d written, and she’d drawn his name. Her letters were tentative, asking simple questions about life in prison, rambling on about her small town life. Always side-stepping the big questions. What did he do? Why did he do it?
He’d been sentenced to ten years for attempted murder. Easy time for a man with his patience. The newspapers had figured right when they speculated that he was the “Baby Blue” killer. But speculation and proof was the difference between serving time and being on the receiving end of a lethal injection.
“I can get you out of here,” Daphne whispered in his ear.
“Yeah, right. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m locked up in a state penitentiary. You know, behind bars, guards with guns.”
“Well, of course you are. I’m not stupid. I’ve been working on a plan since I first started writing to you. Since I read in the papers that you might be the “Baby Blue” killer.”
“I never claimed that was me. I’m in here for the attempted murder of one girl, not the killing of twenty.”
“You don’t have to admit anything to me. I understand. Just listen to my plan and then you can decide. I’ve only got one request if you agree.”
Jeremiah leaned back in his chair, skeptical, but he listening. Her plan had possibilities, but what she wanted in exchange took him by surprise. Not what he expected from a church-going woman.
“I want to see them. You know, the bones of the girls you killed,” said Daphne.
“I didn't kill anybody, remember?” Jeremiah said.
Daphne giggled. “I Googled you, you know. On the internet. Did you know that you have a fan club?”
“A fan club?”
“Yeah, and I’ll bet you didn’t know that one of the guards is a member of your fan club. He’s agreed to help us, but you have to show me the bones. I need to prove to the club that you’re really “Baby Blue”.
Jeremiah could hardly believe it when she’d pulled off the escape. The guard had smuggled him out and she was there waiting for him. Now, here they were, under the Shagbark Hickory where he’d buried his victims. Daphne had come prepared, handing him a shovel so he could dig up the graves. As he uncovered the skeletons of his victims, he glanced at Daphne. She was looking pretty pale, a fact that nudged at the voice of doubt in his mind. He didn't quite trust her, but that itch...well, the hole was dug.
A tear slip down her cheek as she knelt beside the makeshift grave. She brushed the dirt from the closest skull, a muffled sob escaping from her small body. Her hand caressed the length of the jaw bone, her fingers finding a chain that had settled into the neck bones. She removed the chain, holding the half-heart charm up in the moonlight. Reaching between the swell of her breasts, she pulled out an identical necklace, piecing the two halves into a whole heart.
“What are you doing?” asked Jeremiah.
She didn’t look at him, only sobbed into her hands. Chills crept up his spine, goose-bumping into his brain, shouting a warning. He stood, hands gripping the shovel handle like a baseball bat.
“Ann Marie was my big sister. I was the girl you were supposed to meet that night, not her. She was looking out for me, checking out my blind date to make sure I’d be safe, but she never came home. When I read about your trial, I knew you were the one. I knew you’d killed my sister. I’m taking her body home so she can rest in peace.”
“Honey, you’re not leaving here,” said Jeremiah.
As he swung the shovel, a gunshot ripped the silence of the night. Jeremiah fell to the ground screaming, his kneecap shattered.
“Why the hell didn’t you kill me?” he asked, as Daphne kicked the shovel away from his grasp.
“Because I grew up to be a cop and this whole scam wasn’t about killing you. You’re going back to Hillsdale. With the new evidence you so kindly uncovered, you’ll be charged with the murder of my sister and the rest of the women you killed. I like the thoughts of you spending the rest of your life on death row. I’ll be there when they slide the needle in your arm, watching as the poison slides into your veins and you die the same slow, painful death my sister did.”
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© Seamans, 2006