“The accident where the two girls died was alcohol related, right?”
Byron looked quizzically at me. “You know that. What’s the deal, JP?”
“Was Benson present the night Leonard Harris died?”
“I’m not sure, but my guess would be yes. They were inseparable. What’s going on, JP?”
I turned back to the photo. “That’s him,” I mumbled.
“You’re worrying me, man. What are you talking about?”
I turned around and looked down at Byron in his chair. “I thought Kyle Jones killed my brother, but he didn’t.”
“I’m completely lost.”
I reached down and kissed Byron on the top of the head. “Remember when you said you wanted to help with the case. Well, you just solved it.”
I buzzed with energy. I floated to Tonya and gave her a kiss on her perfumed cheek. Mama Jasper simultaneously walked into the room and this time I gave her a big bear hug.
“I gotta go,” I said and quickly headed toward the door.
“Oh no you don’t, JP Warner,” she belted out.
But there was no stopping me. I was already halfway out the door.
“Don’t forget your cane,” Byron shouted.
I turned my head back to him, but never stopped. “You keep it—you’ll need it for when you take those first steps.”
Byron looked at the cane and then up at me. He just shook his head in disbelief.
_______________________________________________________
Part Five-
Keepin' up with the Jones'
_____________________________________
Chapter 59
Gilbert, Arizona
Memorial Day—1998
Kyle Jones entered the frigid air of his Arizona home, a major contrast from the triple-digit temperatures outside. He took a last look at the almost empty living room—just a few boxes remained.
He picked up the remaining items and headed out to the truck. The heat grabbed him and he felt momentarily lightheaded. The experts said it would be a summer dominated by home runs, heat waves, and a presidential sex scandal. McGwire already was pushing twenty homers, and the temperatures had hit triple-digits by Memorial Day. As for the sex scandal, Kyle hadn’t got any action since breaking up with Lucy, so he wasn’t about to begrudge someone who was.
The decision to move was not an easy one. He liked living in Gilbert, and enjoyed his work on the police force. But ever since his breakup with Lucy he felt less connected. And perhaps all the moving he did throughout his childhood had gotten in his blood.
He didn’t have any specific plans, which was a major change from the structured life he’d lived. But he’d saved plenty of money from the settlement that resulted from his parents’ death, so he had some time to find his way. He would start by visiting them at Mount St. Helens, where their ashes were scattered. They always gave him good advice throughout his young life, and thought he might benefit from being in their presence once again. He would then travel to Lake Cumberland, Kentucky, where the accident occurred. It was his most favorite place in the world growing up, as it was for his parents, which was why they chose to retire there after leaving the Air Force. It was also the place where they were taken from him, and he felt he needed to make a final visit before moving on for good.
When he told Grady of his plans, Kyle was surprised by the unemotional response. He was a little hurt, actually, especially since he’d helped Grady get back on his feet. Not to mention the many years they’d spent together. Kyle offered to leave him six months’ rent to allow time for him to find a new roommate, but he declined.
Kyle entered the house for the final time. He wrote Grady a note, in which he promised he’d send a forwarding address and phone number when he settled somewhere. It was not the way Kyle wanted to say goodbye, but Grady was gone again—speaking at another safety conference, which had become his passion since Leonard Harris’ death. And a not-so-subtle reminder to Kyle that he should have done more to get justice for his own parents.
When he finished the note, Kyle entered his bedroom—the only things left to pack were a few items of clothing. He opened his suitcase and began taking shirts off hangers—neatly folding them, of course—and placing them in his bag.
On another trip to the closet, he found a few shirts belonging to Grady. They often traded clothing over the years. Their looks and builds were so similar that one of their squad leaders at Luke AFB used to always mix them up. Kyle didn’t really see the resemblance, but nobody ever debated that their personalities were complete opposites.
Kyle carried the borrowed shirts into Grady’s room and hung them in the closet. When he looked down, he noticed the journal that Grady began keeping after his suggestion to do so.
He knew he shouldn’t read it, but was caught in one of those debates with the angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other. Grady was such an intriguing mystery to Kyle, and even after all their years together, he sometimes felt like he didn’t really know him.
July 4, 1991
Timothy Kent was in my sights. I had waited for two years for this moment, but there is no statute of limitations on justice. Not only did Kent kill my parents, but he would now be responsible for the death of his girlfriend, and the Tompkins kid, who would play the role of lead suspect. The part I enjoyed most was the brief moment before the car split him in half. It was the look on his face. The look that told me he now understood his crime and that his punishment, while final, was also just.
Kyle urgently flipped the pages forward until another passage caught his eye.
July 4, 1996
My mission was clear. As I stood on the houseboat, I struggled to keep a straight face as Leonard Harris told me about how he’d changed his life. But I knew that like the leopard, evil couldn’t change its spots. His alleged metamorphosis was just a trick to fool the public, and perhaps himself. It was no surprise to me when his hedonistic tendencies betrayed him during his final party. It was the same behavior that had led to him taking the lives of those two girls.
Kyle trembled and began to sweat, despite the high-powered air conditioning. Thoughts of calling the police entered his mind, as did the idea of running to his truck and hightailing it out of town. But he couldn’t pull himself away from the macabre tale.
I stifled a laugh while the divers frantically searched for him, as if there was a chance Leonard was still alive. My heart raced, but at the same time I felt so at peace. I could almost feel Kelly and Laura thanking me from heaven. It was truly the moment I was put on the planet for. I wish every day that my parents were still walking the earth, but that would be selfish of me. Because it was their tragic death that woke me to my destiny. From now to the end, I will mark July 4, 1989 with a sacrifice in their honor every Fourth of July.
Kyle’s head spun out of control. Could this be some sort of delusion, or was it fiction? How could this be? Grady was weird, no question … but a killer? He backtracked pages and was drawn to another passage.
September 4, 1995
I have not written in this journal in over four years, but the actions of my roommate Kyle Jones and his girlfriend last night has caused my return. Ironically, it was Kyle who suggested I keep a journal, but what he didn’t know is that he’d sparked me to return to a dormant one.
I thought the sacrifice of Timothy Kent would end the nightmares. But I learned in the last few days that it was just the beginning. The first sign came while watching a television program on a judge in North Carolina named Raymond Buford. Buford chose to defend the indefensible—drunk drivers. The second sign was Kyle arriving home after committing this very same act. I looked into his eyes that night and saw that he’d gone to the dark side. From protector to enabler, betraying the vow we made to fight for justice.
Even though they didn’t participate in the direct murder of another, the crimes of Buford and Jones were worse—using their position of power to circumvent the enforcement of the drinking and driving laws. Laws that are too light, anyway. My mission, I now know, is to rid the world of this evil. Those like Buford and Jones must be stopped.
Kyle read it again.
Must be stopped
. A lump formed inside his throat. Then a thin metal necklace wrapped around his neck. It was pulled back with strength and vengeance.
Kyle looked back to see Grady Benson in a trance-like state, his hands shaking as he squeezed the last breaths out of him.
Chapter 60
Kyle Jones collapsed to the ground, the journal landing beside him.
Batman had wanted to kill him on the Fourth of July, but Kyle’s unscheduled plan to relocate had forced his hand. He always took out his prey on the anniversary of their misdeeds, so that the day would never be forgotten. He also made an annual sacrifice to his parents on the anniversary of their murder—July 4—a date he saved for the most heinous of the predators. There was much plotting and planning, sometimes for years. So this improvisation didn’t feel right, even if it ended in proper fashion.
Batman knelt beside Jones’ lifeless body. He caressed the silver necklace that he used to end his wretched life. It featured a locket that held photos of his parents. He had never felt so close to them.
Batman struggled to control his emotions, as there was not a minute to waste. The first move was to resolve the renter situation. He wrote a letter to the landlord, indicating that both Grady and Kyle had re-enlisted in the Air Force and would be leaving immediately. He included six months’ rent and gave the landlord permission to keep the security deposit for the short notice. He signed Kyle’s signature, which he had become quite adept at, and was sure they would never hear from the happy landlord ever again.
He rolled up Kyle’s body in a rug and packed it into the back of the pickup truck. Then did a final sweep of the house—luckily the orderly Kyle had done a brilliant job of packing. The place was spotless. After loading the final items, Batman took a seat behind the wheel, put on his aviator sunglasses, and headed toward his next mission.
He would take on the identity of Kyle Jones from this point forward. He knew it wasn’t a coincidence that he’d been placed so close to a police officer who was so similar in look and build. He was chosen, as was Kyle, but he chose not to heed the call.
As he drove across America, he couldn’t stop thinking of the day that began this journey. It was July 4, 1989, and he was stationed in Germany. He tagged along with a few other members of his squadron to a viewing of the top rated US movie at the time,
Batman.
He now knew it was a sign. Later that day he was called into his commander’s office and told of his parents’ murder. Just like Bruce Wayne, he would dedicate his life to fighting crime so nobody else had to go through what he did. He accepted his destiny, but understood that it would be a long and lonely road.
That didn’t mean he didn’t have help along the way. Having access to a police officer like Kyle Jones allowed him to more easily research his targets, like providing him the location of Leonard Harris’ court ordered rehab. He had taken on Kyle’s identity on numerous occasions, including when he bought Flip Tompkins his final beer with the credit card he’d gotten in Kyle’s name. It might have been suspicious if Tompkins’ death hadn’t been ruled an accident.
Now he would become Kyle Jones full time. He had all the essentials—social security card, credit cards, driver’s license. And access to Kyle’s savings, which had been enhanced by the blood money he accepted from his parents’ death. It should have been his first clue as to Kyle choosing to fight against him.
The photo identification was passable, but he planned on updating it when he arrived at his destination. He would get photos taken in Kyle’s police uniform that was packed in the cab of the truck.
He also brought along Kyle’s past—a box filled with numerous photos, including a picture of “Batman and Robin” in Iraq during Desert Storm that he signed for Kyle.
Wingmen Forever
. Although, he was painfully aware that nothing was forever.
One photo he wanted to toss to the side of the road, was one in which he and Lucy were standing together in the backyard, straining smiles as Kyle took their photo. But he had no choice but to take it with. He looked forward to the day he would remove her from this world.
He drove through the night, too excited to sleep until he landed on Ocracoke Island. The landing spot was not a coincidence. He knew Raymond Buford owned a vacation getaway on the island. He’d researched the judge extensively over the past year, gathering vital information, which he knew would make him easy prey.
One of his first acts in Ocracoke was to purchase a sailboat. He took it out on Silver Lake his first night on the island. He thought that since his old friend Kyle was so into military history, he would be disposed of in the same way that the Lieutenant Naval Commander Maynard dealt with Blackbeard.
It was unlikely that the body would ever be found, but if it was, it would be decomposed beyond recognition. Not that anyone would be looking for Kyle Jones anyway, since he wasn’t considered missing. But even if the body were discovered well preserved, murder by strangulation would be hard to prove. The only hope for investigators would be small hemorrhages under the skin, or a broken bone. He wasn’t worried by such a long shot.
The next day he met with a realtor. She explained that it was the perfect time to buy, since the recent hurricanes had brought the prices down. But she assured him that government agencies would provide funding for a secure storm-proof room.