Confession Page 17

  “Oh,” said Jimmy while he opened his can of beer but was smiling inside with Homer’s response.

  Homer’s eyes widened the second he remembered something. “Oh yeah, I heard something really interesting about the last victim. Well actually, it’s sorta sad for Robert.”

  “What’s that?” asked Jimmy and he was a little worried that maybe Robert had a good lead.

  “Well, it appears that this last victim was the sister of a friend of Robert’s. How about that?”

  “A sister to the friend of Robert?”

  “Yeah. He knew the victim. How coincidental is that?”

  “Yeah, that is coincidental,” replied Jimmy with a smirk then he took a drink of his beer. He realized he was good but not that good.

  Jimmy and Homer spent the next hour putting away two more cans of Black Label and chatting about other police stuff.

  New Years Eve arrived.

  Jimmy and Ricky did their other usual event and had drinks at Hank’s Bar and rang in 1966 by getting drunk

  Back to reality…

  In Daytona Beach, Sam sat in his back porch, while he highlighted some areas of the book that were of extreme interest. His eyes welled up, as this book brought back those memories that haunted him for so many years. Then his blood boiled thinking how that killer taunted him.

  In Kissimmee, Marty was so interested in Allan’s book that he could not put it down. Becky was more interested in collecting all the loose photos she had of Allan. She wanted to make a special photo album on his life.

  In Curtis, Mississippi, Billy was in his office at his Chevy dealership. He was steamed while he read more of Allan’s book. He threw it to the floor then stormed over to his wall. He looked at the framed pictures of previous fishing trips, including the ones during the years of the October Slayer. He wanted to strangle his older brother.

  He stormed out of his office and went out to the sales department to cool off before he did something stupid.

  Chapter 13

  A Killer’s Tale story continued…

  It was now March 1966.

  Up in Atlanta, FBI Agent Robert was still cold with any viable leads on finding this killer of now four women.

  Then one afternoon in late March, Carl watched Robert from his desk.

  Robert stared at Sandy’s file folder in between discreet sips of whiskey from his flask.

  Homer was at his desk and he also watched Robert.

  Homer’s phone rang. “Agent Maris,” he answered.

  “It’s me Ricky. How are you liking your new Mustang?” Ricky asked from the phone.

  “I love it!”

  “Great. I’ll see you at Christmas time again,” said Rickey.

  “Looking forward to it.”

  “Listen, Jimmy wants to know if that Robert Fillert has a favorite drinking hole.”

  “Yeah and he’s been going there every night for the past month,” Homer replied.

  “I need the name of the place,” Ricky said.

  “Why?”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m giving you a Mustang each year and that’ll all you need to know.”

  “Oh, okay. He frequents Wet Willie’s,” just outside Hatfield,” Homer responded.

  “If you still want these new cars you better not tell a soul about our conservations.”

  “Okay, I won’t,” said Homer as he loved the new Mustangs and it was making him a hit with some of the women in the office.

  “Great. Now, don’t forget to come to the dealership at Christmas. I’ll have a new red 1967 Mustang waiting with your name on it,” Ricky said then disconnected their call.

  Homer looked excited and couldn’t wait for his new car.

  Back in Boldger, Jimmy was alone one Wednesday night while Betty played bridge with her girlfriends.

  Jimmy revisited his chest and looked at his souvenirs from Annette, Rhonda, Angie, and Sandy. He had his new True Detective magazine and it had an article about Sandy’s killing. The article mentioned that the FBI agent, Robert Fillert, on the case personally knew Sandy Lurcott, as she was the sister of his best friend. Jimmy looked happy when he read that bit of news.

  Later that night, Jimmy sat naked in his living room chair and masturbated while he reread the article. He loved the fact that this killing was closer to home for Robert. He ejaculated on the page about Sandy and closed the magazines.

  He dropped the magazine into the chest and locked it. He lit a cigarette and took a drag.

  He felt satisfied then returned the chest back to its hiding place in his attic.

  The following week, Jimmy gave Betty some bullshit story that he had to go up to Atlanta for a conference new advances in law enforcement procedures. She bought his story hook line and sinker.

  It was around nine that evening a few nights later, and at Wet Willie’s bar in the Atlanta area business was slow. The building stood alone off a country road, and was outlined with red neon lights. A 1966 Ford Thunderbird pulled into the parking lot and parked.

  There were only three drinkers inside the bar and one of them was Robert. He drank alone in his suit.

  Jimmy entered in a Fedora hat, and he walked to the back of the bar and sat down at a table.

  A waitress walked up to him.

  “Bourbon and coke, please,” Jimmy instantly replied.

  She nodded she got his drink order and walked away.

  Jimmy glanced down the bar to his left and saw Robert drinking alone. He got a smirk and walked over to him.

  Jimmy sat down one bar stool down from Robert.

  The waitress walked up and gave Jimmy his drink.

  Jimmy took a sip while he glanced at Robert who had five empty glasses in front of him. Robert looked like a sad and pathetic drunk.

  “Hey buddy, did you have a rough day?” Jimmy kindly asked Robert and faked he was concerned.

  Robert looked glassy eyed over at Jimmy. “It’s been a rough three fucking years,” Robert slurred out his response. Robert gulped down his sixth drink.

  Jimmy motioned at the bartender. “His next drink is on me.”

  The bartender nodded that he acknowledged.

  Robert lifted up his glass at Jimmy. “Thank you my good man.”

  Robert gulped down his drink.

  A few seconds later, the bartender walked up and placed another drink down in front of Robert.

  Robert sipped his drink. “How about joining me?” Robert slurred out while he held up his drink and felt like he wanted some company. He just wanted someone to listen to his sorrows, as the bartender got tired and ignored Robert.

  “I wish I could, but I just got a promotion at work and I’m taking my wife out to dinner to celebrate,” Jimmy replied.

  Jimmy patted Robert on his back then discreetly dropped a pair of his Army’s Sergeant’s stripes into Robert’s suit pocket. Jimmy was promoted to Staff Sergeant in Army reserves two months ago.

  “My name is Jimmy Nalla,” Jimmy whispered near Robert’s ear, but Robert did not hear him. Jimmy patted Robert on his back and headed to the door.

  Robert remained in a drunken stupor at the bar and was on the verge of passing out.

  Jimmy went home that night and did not have any concerns that Robert would pick up on him being the killer. “He’s too stupid,” chuckled Jimmy while he thought about Robert finding those stripes in his suit coat pocket.

  October 1966 took forever to arrive and Jimmy was getting itchy for another adventure. He sensed he would never get caught and could last for years.

  This time, Jimmy decided to make it a longer trip to Arkansas.

  He drove his Thunderbird into the parking lot of a Piggly Wiggly in the small town of Garrison, Arkansas one night. He waited in his car for his next victim.

  Then he saw a blonde female get out of a 1964 Dodge Dart about one hundred feet away.

  She walked into the store with her purse in hand.

  “She’s my girl,” Jimmy said while he sipped his bottle of Jack Daniels. He put the
bottle down and got out of his car.

  He rushed over to the Dodge Dart. He opened up the hood and reached inside. He yanked the cable from the ignition coil to the distributor cap. He closed the hood and rushed back to his car.

  Inside his car, he tossed the cable under his seat and waited while he sipped more Jack Daniels.

  Twenty minutes later, he watched while the blonde woman walked out of the store with her grocery bag in hand. He noticed she wore a brownish pattern micro mini dress and thought she was extremely sexy.

  She walked to her Dodge and got inside. She tried to start her car. It would not start so she tried again, but it still would not start.

  She got out and opened up the hood and peeked inside. She knew nothing about engines but for some reason, she felt that if you peeked inside it would magically fix itself.

  She got back inside and tried to start it again, but it would not start.

  She got back out and walked over and started at the engine.

  Jimmy started his car and drove over and parked near her Dodge. He got out and left his engine running.

  “Excuse me, are you having car trouble?” he asked while he got out of his car and walked up to her.

  The woman looked up at Jimmy and his eyes lit up, as he knew her. It was Fran Schaefer, the girl he had a crush on in high school and played that cruel joke on him.

  Jimmy looked her over and she was still sexy but gained a little weight. Then the horrible memories of that day flooded his mind and made his blood boiled.

  “Fran Schaefer? Is that you?” he said while he acted cool.

  Fran thought for a couple of seconds while she glanced at Jimmy. Then her eyes widen when she remembered.

  “Jimmy Nalla? I don’t believe it. What are you doing here in Arkansas?” she replied happy to see someone from her hometown even thought she thought he was creepy back in high school.

  “I was sitting in my car looking at a road map, as I got lost on my way to Little Rock for some Army Reserve duty. Then I saw you,” he lied through his teeth. “What's wrong?”

  “My car won’t start. It was fine when I went in the store, but now it won’t start now,” she said.

  “That’s the way it goes with automobiles. They work one minute the are broke the next,” he said. “Let me take a look,” he added then looked in the engine compartment.

  After having his head buried under the hood of her car, Jimmy looked at Fran. “Ah, there’s your trouble, your cable is missing from the distributor cap to the ignition coil,” he said and pointed to the distributor cap.

  “How could that be missing when the car was sitting still?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” he replied then faked like he pondered a viable answer. Maybe it fell out and is underneath the car?” he said then dropped to his knees and peeked under the car. “Nope, it didn’t fall out,” he said then stood up.

  Fran looked worried. “What am I going to do?”

  “Why don’t I give you a ride home and you can get it fixed in the morning?” he offered.

  “I don’t want to be a bother. I can call a friend,” she replied.

  “Oh no, it’s no bother. After I drop you off, I’ll head to Little Rock.”

  The sound of thunder filled the air and drops of rain started to fall.

  “Let’s hurry before we get soaked,” he said.

  Fran ran over with Jimmy to his car and got inside while the clouds poured on them.

  Once inside, she looked at his Thunderbird. “You have a beautiful car,” she replied in awe.

  “Ricky took over dad’s business and since I didn’t want to join him. So dad said I can get a free car each year for the rest of my life. It’s part of my inheritance,” Jimmy said while he drove out of the parking lot.

  “Are you still living in Boldger?” she said while he pulled out onto the street and drove off.

  “Yep. And the place hasn’t changed much,” he said then glanced over at Fran. “How do I get to your place?” he added.

  “Turn right at the second traffic light,” she replied.

  “How long have you been living here in Arkansas?” he asked while he made the right turn at the traffic light.

  “I moved here to Arkansas to be with mother but she recently got remarried and moved down to Orlando, Florida. I’m going to move down there in three months,” she replied.

  Jimmy thought for a few seconds. “Ah yes, I remember hearing your parents got a divorce,” he said while he turned right at the second traffic light.

  While he drove down the street, he reached under his seat and grabbed his whiskey bottle. He opened it and took a swig.

  “Would you like a drink?” he offered and held out the bottle.

  “No thanks,” she replied.

  Jimmy screwed the cap back on the bottle. Then he looked a little mad. “Remember that cruel joke Ralph Johnston, those other guys, gals, and you played on me? Remember how you tricked me into a romantic moment at the lake but left me naked in the woods?”

  Fran thought for a few seconds while she recalled her high school days. “I do and I’m so sorry for that day. We were stupid jerks back during high school. I hope you can forgive me,” she said but got a little nervous all of a sudden.

  “Sure. We were dumber back in those days,” Jimmy pretended but inside he was still furious. “So, what ever happened to Ralph?”

  “We got married after we graduated from high school. He's in the Navy and just left for Vietnam three months ago. We have a little.”

  “That’s nice,” Jimmy said interrupting her sentence. “Remember that night we graduated? And you had that party down at the lake.”

  Fran thought for a few seconds. “Yeah. But someone played a mean trick on me with daddy’s car.”

  “Oh, you mean someone took a shit on the seat?”

  Fran looked surprised at Jimmy for knowing. “How did you know?”

  Jimmy had a smirk on his face and Fran knew it was his confession.

  “Why the fuck would you do that? You’re an asshole!” she said recalling getting home and her daddy being furious that she had shit all over the rear of her jeans when she came into the house.

  “I was in love with you and you treated me like shit! My dad beat the hell out of me with a belt for letting a girl get the better of part of me that day!” he yelled out.

  Fran looked at Jimmy. She saw the hatred in his eyes, and she got scared.

  “Please let out right here. I can walk home,” she said but didn’t finish the sentence because Jimmy tightened his grip on the neck of his whiskey bottle and slammed it into the side of her head.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?” she screamed while she felt the side of her head and saw blood on her fingers after she touched the area the bottle hit.

  He slammed the whiskey bottle harder into her temple and it shattered. She got woozy.

  She looked shocked at him. “Why are you doing this?” she softly said while she was weak.

  “Because I love it,” he replied then punched her hard in her face and broke her nose.

  She slumped down in her seat passed out cold.

  Thirty minutes later and Jimmy found a secluded area in the woods, ten miles east of Garrison, Arkansas. It was an area that wasn’t touched by that small storm. He stripped Fran naked and had her tied to a tree with his bat ready. He wore his new leather gloves and his camera was in position to capture this moment.

  Jimmy ran the tip of his bat up and down Fran’s naked body. She became conscious and was dazed and confused as to what was happening.

  It dawned on her she was tied naked to a tree. She shook in fear when she saw Jimmy with the bat. She knew exactly who he was since she heard about those horrible past events in the news.

  “Please let me go. I swear I won’t tell a soul,” Fran pleaded.

  Jimmy got a smirk on his face. “I don’t think so. It’s now time for me to leave you naked in the woods,” he said then he swung his bat and whacked her on her right
ankle.

  “Ahhhh!” she screamed in pain.

  He swung hard and whacked her other ankle.

  “Ahhh!” she screamed in pain.

  He swung the bat hard into her crotch. She silently screamed, as the pain was unbearable.

  Jimmy took more batting practice with his bat and whacked her in her throat. She immediately gasped out for air and tried to scream, but was a silent scream.

  He whacked her across her jaw and teeth and blood flew out of her mouth.

  He used her forehead for batting practice.

  He dropped the bat and noticed Fran was on the verge of dying. He grabbed her head. He twisted her head and her neck snapped, and she was dead.

  Jimmy picked up the bat and rushed over to his Thunderbird. He dropped the bat inside the opened trunk.

  He reached in the trunk and grabbed the axle grease. He walked back to Fran and ran a streak down her stomach to represent the number “5” as his calling card.

  He walked over to the camera and snapped a picture. He then took a few more pictures from different angles.

  He set the timer on the camera and rushed over Fran. The camera snapped a picture and Jimmy looked like a proud hunter who bagged a prize deer.

  He rushed over to the camera and grabbed it.

  He rushed the camera and tripod to the rear of the car and dropped it in the trunk along with the grease. He removed his gloves and dropped them in the trunk and slammed it shut.

  He secured the area and did his usual technique of erasing all tire and boot tracks in the dirt.

  He got back in his car and drove down the road. He got out and completed his technique of erasing all tire tracks down the dirt road.

  He got back inside his car and drove off down the paved country road.

  While he drove down the road he glanced down at Fran’s clothes, purse and shoes on the passenger floorboard. He pulled over and stopped his car alongside the road.

  He looked inside Fran’s purse and removed her driver’s license. He saw a picture of a baby girl that looked to be about seven months old.