Birdsongs (9 page)

    Carlton spent forty years of his life on the road as an airline executive. For the majority of those forty years he spent at least four nights out of seven in a motel or hotel room he could never equate to home. The rooms he stayed in never provided the comfort one would expect in their own home. He believed it was possible to provide a comforting environment to travelers, while at the same time making a good living. Carlton looked like Santa Clause without the beard. He had the white bushy hair, twinkling eyes, and even a belly like a bowl full of jelly.

    “Good morning Ms. Martin,” Carlton said as Rachael walked into the office. “Can I get you a cup of coffee and something to eat?”

    “A cup of coffee would be great but it’s too early for me to be hungry. How do you know my name?” Rachael asked. “I guess you’ve seen me on television?”

    “I saw you walk out of room twelve and the name on the register says Rachael Martin,” Carlton said with a hint of jest in his voice.

    “How silly of me,” Rachael said.

    Before she even had the chance to feel embarrassed by her assumption, Carlton laughed and said, “Ms. Martin, I’m just kidding you, I watch you almost every night and I am honored to have you staying with us. I am the owner, Carlton Davis and I hope you slept well.” As he extended his hand for a cordial handshake, Carlton said, “Please excuse my attempt at humor. It was never my strong suit. How do you take your coffee?”

    “Black, Mr. Davis.” Rachael smiled. “It is very nice to meet you.”

    “Here you go young lady,” Carlton said as he handed Rachael the steaming cup of coffee. “I imagine you are in town to cover the serial killer story?”

    “I am. I must compliment you on the room. I can honestly say that I have never stayed in a room quite like it before. What’s the story?”

    “Well,” Carlton said with a burst of pride. “I spent forty years of my life traveling and sleeping in motel rooms and none of them ever quite got it right. Once I retired, the never dying business man inside led me to open an Inn that would have all of the things I would have wanted to find in a place all those years when I was traveling. The culmination of that voice is the Lakeside Motor Inn. Did you know the item with the most germs in a motel room is the remote control for the television?”

    “I didn’t know that,” Rachael responded.

    “It is,” Carlton said. “We sanitize it after every guest leaves. We wash the comforter, clean the hell out of the bathroom, and sanitize the phone just to name a few things. It’s everything I would have wanted as a traveler, but never had.”

    “I’m breathlessly impressed Mr. Davis,” Rachael said as she sipped on her coffee with sincere and keen interest. “How long have you had the place?”

    “Fifteen years,” Carlton answered. He saw the look in Rachael’s eyes as she did the math and said, “I will be seventy-six next month.”

    “I am not one to flatter, but you don’t look anywhere close to seventy-six Mr. Davis. What’s your secret?”

    “Genetics,” he said. “My mama lived to be ninety-four and never looked a day over fifty-nine. When we moved to Tilley with mama in tow, the bank had a special program for senior citizens and when she applied, they did not believe her when she told them how old she was. Before they would give her the discounts she had to show them her papers and prove it.” Noticing that Rachael had finished her cup of coffee, Carlton refilled it for her. Handing the cup back to her he said, “I know you must be chomping at the bit to get to work. I have lived in this town for quite some time and know just about everybody there is to know. Do you know where you are going to start your media investigation?”

    “No sir,” Rachael said applying her Mississippi charm.

    “Have you ever heard of Encyclopedia Brown?” Carlton asked. “My kids and grandkids enjoyed those books growing up.”

    “I have,” Rachael answered. “He is the kid whose father was on the police force. The father would come home, and at the dinner table he would tell Encyclopedia Brown about the cases going on at work. If I remember correctly, before dinner was over Encyclopedia Brown, the son would solve the case. He also had a service for the kids in town instead of a lemonade stand like most other kids.”

    “That’s the one,” Carlton said. “We have a guy in town like that. He is not part of the force, but if anyone is going to solve this case, my bet is, it will be him. He solves most of the town’s perplexing cases. His name is Benny James.”

    “Where might I find this Mr. James?”

    “He has a houseboat docked at the Sleepy Cove Marina. That’s your best bet for finding him. He has a house too, but all you’ll find there is a territorial cat.”

Chapter 24

   Rachael drove her rental car through the open front gate of the Sleepy Cove Marina noticing the sign, which stated there was a security guard on site. She wondered if this was referring to the infamous Benny James. She parked the car directly in front of the office. It was a little before 7:00 a.m. and she witnessed movement inside the office as she proceeded and entered. The office was more like a living room with a high counter dividing the room in two halves. One half had a couch, love seat, coffee and end tables, and a ratty rug. Mounted on a wall, a television was broadcasting her channel. The other half of the room had two desks, a couple of filing cabinets, and three suspicious fridges. The overall interior was decorated with a lame and clumsy attempt at creating a country club setting for aquatic lovers. The overall effect came off as a college dorm room dressed in drunken prose for a weekend party. Rachael surmised the owners did not make their money off the atmosphere they provided and continued to the desk. Donny, the owner, had his head inside one of the fridges counting the stock of night crawlers. His head smacked the top of the freezer when the door Rachael entered slammed shut.

    “I’m so sorry I frightened you,” Rachael said as she held both hands up with a gesture of sorrow.

    “Ain’t nothing but a thing ma’am,” Donny said demonstrating his fine country accent and rubbing his head. “Most folks in here this early is heading out fishing. I don’t reckon you’re needing any bait are you ma’am?”

    “No sir, not this morning. It has been quite some time since I’ve been trolling in the early morning. I’m just a little busy these days. I do miss it though. My daddy used to take me quite a bit because he never had a boy to take with him.”

    “You want me to guess why you’re here?” Donny said with a wink and a big grin.

    “All right,” Rachael said willing to play the game. “Why am I here?”

    “You’re looking for Benny James,” Donny stated with utter certainty.

    “Well sir,” Rachael said with a laugh, “You are a winner. How do you know that?”

    “Didn’t you see what channel I’m looking at Ms. Martin?” Donny said as his voice turned sweeter. “My wife is a big fan and it would make her day if I could get your autograph on something.”

    “I would be honored,” Rachael said. “What would you like me to sign?”

    “Well,” Donny said as he thought and scratched his chin. “She’s out fishing with her favorite hat, but if you could sign the bill of her second favorite hat I know it will soon become her new favorite hat. I’ll go get it.” Donny ran out of the room as if he was chasing a pot of gold with a swarm of bees behind him. He reminded Rachael of the folks in her hometown deep in the heart of Mississippi. They were simple, good hearted, honest, and the epitome of down to earth.

    “Here you go,” Donny said as he handed Rachael a hat that had “Bass Masters” written across the front. The bill was white and Rachael took the marker Donny gave her and signed her name. She handed the cap back to Donny and he beamed like she had just handed him a pot of golden coins. “Thank you so much Ms. Martin. She’s gonna just shit her pants when she sees this.”

    “I hope she doesn’t get that excited,” Rachael said with a good belly laugh. “Now can you tell me a little more about this Benny James?”

    “He’s a character,” Donny said as Rachael studied him. Donny had a face that looked as if it had never touched a drop of sun tan lotion and was burned hundreds of times. It was a screaming red, tight in all the wrong places and loose and wrinkly in all the other wrong places. Short, white, stubbly hair was springing out of his jaw and cheek areas in strange places appearing as if he had taken a few strokes here and there with a razor but didn’t complete the job. His hat sat on the top of his head like it would fall off at any moment and Rachael wondered why he didn’t pull it down, wearing it like most normal people. The back of the hat was mesh and his sprawling gray hair poked through any space it could find. He wore a red muscle shirt that read “Panama City.” It hung down far enough to reveal a red, scrawny and tight chest. His arms looked as though he had used them every day of his life and his hands looked like they had been run over by a truck. He wore jean shorts, no shoes, and his feet looked tough enough to walk across coals or nails.

    “Let me tell you one thing about Benny, Ms. Martin,” Donny offered. “He don’t like to get up early and he hates to be woke up early. If you want to get off on the right foot with him you will wait right here until he comes to get the paper. If you go waking him up, the only information you’ll get is a ear full of nasty words and hateful speaking.”

    “I didn’t get your name?” Rachael asked.

    “Donny.”

    “Thank you Donny. I do believe I will take your advice. Do you mind if I hang out here and make a few calls while I am waiting?”

    “Make yourself at home. I gotta go gas up a few boats so just holler if you need anything. I’ll be down the dock a piece there,” Donny said as he pointed at the sky. He walked out the door and Rachael sat down on the love seat that looked the cleanest of the available seats. She dug her cell phone out of her purse and started punching buttons.

    Nine calls, four cups of coffee, and three and a half hours later Benny came strolling in as he did every “morning” for the newspaper. Donny was back at the high counter and said, “Good morning Benny, you have a guest who has been patiently waiting for you to wake up.” Donny pointed to Rachael, which was a useless gesture since she was the only other person in the room.

    Rachael stood up cautiously, trying not to seem too eager and said in her sweetest Mississippi drawl, “Good morning Mr. James. My name is Rachael Martin and it doesn’t have to be now, but I would be forever grateful if I could take a few moments of your time.”

    “You’re not selling insurance are you?” Benny said shooting a wink in Donny’s direction.

    “No sir, I’m not.”

    “Ms. Martin, I’m just joshing you. Can’t you see?” Benny said as he pointed at the television, “We know who you are.”

    “Mr. James,” Rachael said laughing, giving Benny the remembrance of the southern acting of Reese Witherspoon, “You are the third person that has pulled that joke on me. I see that I have found a good hearted town.”

    “You have indeed,” Benny said. “Why don’t we get a cup of coffee and head back to my office? I am afraid I won’t be able to tell you much though.”

    “I understand police confidentiality, Mr. James.”

    “It’s not that Ms. Martin,” Benny retorted. “We haven’t found anything yet.”

    Once on the boat, Benny invited Rachael to make herself at home while he quickly showered and dressed for the day. Rachael tried to hide her admiration for the boat’s interior. She had never been on a houseboat and would have never imagined one to look so homey on the inside. It reminded her of a luxury condo with a view. The kitchen had marble counter tops, a porcelain sink, and custom cabinets. The living area she was seated in had leather sofas, an extraordinary coffee table decorated with two oriental sculptures and a spread of Architectural Digest magazines. The room was spotless as if it was ready to be photographed for a piece in the magazines covering the table. Even the ceilings were exquisite as Rachael noted they were wood planked. Rachael’s curiosity and imagination dreamt of what was behind the closed doors leading away from the room as Benny entered freshly showered and dressed.

    “I apologize for making you wait Ms. Martin, but I don’t ever feel completely ready to greet the day without a shower to knock the sleep off of me,” Benny gave an innocent wink that was concealed by what Rachael thought was the possibility of a twitch.

    “Please don’t apologize and call me Rachael.” Rachael’s second impression of Benny was quite different from her first. Her first impression registered nothing. When Benny entered the room this time she felt a presence enter with him and she noticed he carried with him an air radiating with self-confidence. She blushed a bit when he sat close to her on the adjacent love seat. Benny’s blue eyes studied and fixed their gaze upon her. She tried to focus her thoughts. Her mind slipped as her eyes traced his handsome face. Rachael recognized a powerful body as he crossed his legs and gripped his coffee cup. She imagined the mug shattering and pulled her gaze back to meet his eyes.

    “This is quite some office,” Rachael said as she tried to get her thoughts to catch up with her eyes and heartbeat.

    “That’s another one of the running jokes in this town,” Benny said with a boyish laugh. “I guess if I have to be honest, this is my home as much as I would like to believe that it isn’t. This is where I feel comfortable and in turn this is where I lay my head at night Rachael.”

    “I would love to sleep here,” Rachael said. When her brain registered what had just come out of her mouth she finished by saying, “If I owned a boat like this.”

    “I imagine you are in town for the serial killer story?” Benny asked, ignoring the statement he mentally registered as interesting.

    “I am,” Rachael said, gaining her composure and her business mind again. “I hear that you are the town’s unofficial crime sleuth. Is this true and if so how did this come to be?”

    “Well,” Benny said as he thought of where to begin and what information to impart to Rachael. “Ms. Martin…”