Don't Shoot the Messenger

By K.L. Peacock

The Crossings somewhere in West Texas is a small county with its own problems. In the aftermath of a corrupt sheriff, influenced by a ruthless resident, the new Sheriff, Chris Winters is putting the town back in order. A job that is not easy but just when the area seems civilized...

Agnes Axelrod is brutally murdered outside her motel room at the Cheap Sleeper. If that is not enough, someone drags her dead body into her motel room and beats her corpse. Reverend Daniel Cates, aka Preacher Man, came to The Crossings a few months prior with his “flock”. Unknown to Cates, he and Agnes receive notes that read, “I know what you did. Your time is up.”

Kali, the strong willed wife of Sheriff Winters, is also a detective for the department. Kali’s determination to find the connection of the notes unravels the darkest parts of Agnes’s past. The deadly secret that Agnes and the Preacher Man share will lead Kali and Chris on a race against time to uncover the shocking and horrific truth of all those involved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.L. Peacock
• Release date: Sep 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370974245

K.L. Peacock

K. L. Peacock lives in Tucson, Arizona. She is an avid photographer, traveler, and rose gardener. Born and raised in Central New York State – near the Finger Lakes, she moved to Tucson over twenty years ago. K. L. graduated from Long Island University with a B.A. in History and Political Science, and a M.A. in Accounting from DeVry University. This is her first mystery with more of Kali and the gang to follow.

Book preview

Autumn 2015

Agnes Axelrod knew this was the end of her life. The message read, I know what you did. Your time is up. Not a message with specific meaning to the average person reading it, but Agnes knew exactly what the note meant. She got to work. She needed to make things right with her life. After writing a long letter and hiding it where no one could find it immediately, Agnes tidied up the motel room, made a phone call and got ready to go to the store. When she opened the door to leave her motel room, whack, the baseball bat smashed into her face. She fell to her knees. Grabbing at her face, another blow followed. For Agnes everything was going dark.

She could only think of her son, Lucas–her baby, her whole life. She was so proud of him although she didn’t remember the last time she had told him. There wouldn’t be any time now. The pain was horrendous. She hoped Lucas knew that everything she had done over the years she had done for him. This was the end; now the darkness turned to blackness and the blackness turned to nothingness.

Chapter One

The Messenger was having the worst day of his life. Behind schedule, the messages needed to be delivered with exact timing. If this job didn’t go as planned, then Boss Man would dispose of him. The Messenger feared that dispose of would have the most permanent of meanings. Boss Man looked ordinary enough but his temper was ferocious. Coffee cups flew when Boss Man’s plans didn’t go as expected. His instability and volatile nature scared The Messenger.

People hired The Messenger to deliver their anonymous messages. He usually distributed the communications to several people resulting in menacing confrontations, occasionally ending in death. This particular Boss Man hired him for the job in The Crossings to deliver messages of death. No third party involvement needed.

The Crossings is a county in the western part of Texas. Two set of railroad tracks split the county into four sections – North, South, East, and West Crossings. It’s located where the Plains look onto the Chihuahuan Desert. The name originates from an Indian name, which translates to trails that cross here, Indians, and cattle primarily used the trails. Founded after the Civil War by cattle barons, in the past seventy years the large ranches had been broken into smaller parcels. At its height, the population of The Crossings was twenty four hundred. In the last five years the population had dwindled in half.

With the area being in the middle of nowhere, corruption sprung up without anyone noticing. Wes Bradley had taken advantage of this and before anyone realized he had his ring of corruption in place. Bradley’s henchmen enforced the violence while the previous local law enforcement looked the other way for a share of the money. Prostitution, drugs, and stealing land ran rampant, thus making Bradley extremely rich and powerful.The car The Messenger drove ground to a halt for no apparent reason. Sitting by the side of the road in the county of The Crossings, The Messenger ranted to himself about the stupidity of running out of gas. A sheriff’s car drove up behind him and parked. Now The Messenger, even more disgusted, cursed louder than he realized. How many times had Boss Man drummed into his head: the importance not to be noticed. No one could connect him to the messages he delivered in this small town. The Boss Man picked a god forsaken place this time. The Messenger always left the scene as quickly as he could. He wasn’t supposed to know the meaning of the messages, better that way and certainly safer. He needed a little of what the military called plausible deniability. The Boss Man made it extremely clear that The Messenger shouldn’t linger after he delivered the messages.

Toby Wilmington, a deputy in his mid-twenties and new to the force, sat in the car running the license plate. So far so good – no wants, no warrants. As he sat running the plate he heard the driver yelling at himself. Probably some dumb breakdown, still, he needed to be cautious.

As Toby left his vehicle, he checked his holster. Walking up to the driver’s side of the car, he asked the man if everything was all right. The Messenger yelled, Like some dumb ass I ran out of gas. I can’t believe it. I’ve never run out of gas in my whole life. Could have sworn the damn car had gas in the tank. Just filled it three days ago and haven’t used the car that much. I didn’t give it a thought when I started it this morning.

The driver was sweating. Toby asked, Are you okay? You don’t look so good.

The man said, Yeah, just fine. I am so mad at myself. I know I had gas in the tank.

Well don’t worry too much. It might have been siphoned, some kids probably punkin’ ya. We have been having problems lately with a few of the local teens. I have a gas can in my car. You can come with me. I’ll drive you to the gas station down the road. It’s only a few miles.

Before Toby could say anything else, the man said in a nervous voice, If it’s only few miles then I’ll stay here with the car. I don’t want to leave it; someone might take something.

Toby smiled trying to figure out how to find out more about this stranger. He started to say something when his radio squawked. They needed him at that cheap motel out on County Road 14. The code given was a homicide. I have to go on this call. Tell you what, I’ll call McKitricks’ Towing Company. Old man McKitrick will bring you some gas. Before the driver could say anything, the young, round-faced, blue-eyed deputy got back in his vehicle, made a U-turn, and sped away. The Messenger sat in the dust from the deputy’s car. He knew the first message was complete.

* * *

Maggie MacDonald owned the Cheap Sleeper out on County Road 14. She tried to run a respectable place, which was seldom an easy task. Mostly people who needed a quick place to stay when passing through town, stayed there. Occasionally a local family would stay if their house was undergoing extensive repairs or if their house had burned down. Rarely, Maggie would have a customer that stayed more than two or three nights. Agnes Axelrod had been one of the few.

Maggie had been out of town last night. She had gone to the next town to babysit her grand-baby. With the motel, she didn’t get much time to see her family but she did get to babysit every Sunday night when her daughter and son-in-law had their date night. It worked out well for everyone, the kids both had Monday off from work and Sunday nights were usually slow at the motel. Tammy, her granddaughter, was the best thing in Maggie’s world. Maggie, remembering the cute little giggle that Tammy just found that she could make, pulled into the parking lot of the Cheap Sleeper. She noticed the door to room thirteen open. Only six in the morning and still too cold to have the doors and windows open at this time of day. Oddly, it was Agnes’s room and she minded the cold. Maggie knew this because when Agnes checked in earlier in the month she insisted on extra blankets. She parked the car. Approaching the opened door, she could see blood. There was a pool of it in front of the door and blood splattered on the side of the building and on the ceiling of the balcony above. Maggie looked into room thirteen and froze.

Agnes Axelrod lay on the floor. Her lifeless body a bloody heap, left to rot in front of the television. Maggie composed herself enough to walk slowly to the office to call 911. She knew not to compromise any evidence. Clearly, Agnes was dead and even though Maggie had a stomach made of iron, what she just saw made her want to vomit. She wanted a good stiff drink, but she needed to have a clear head when the sheriff arrived.

* * *

Sheriff Chris Winters was out in the barn feeding the horses when his cell phone rang. Putting down the pitchfork of hay, he took the cell phone out of his pocket. It was Jimmy the dispatcher at the Sheriff’s Department. He was talking a mile a minute. Chris didn’t even get a chance to say hello when he answered the phone.

We have a bad one, real bad, poor Maggie could hardly speak and ya know she always has something to say. She said there was a lot of blood everywhere. They bludgeoned the poor woman to death. Don’t know how she’ll ever get the place cleaned.

Chris, finally able to speak said, Jimmy, who are they? And she had better not clean anything until we get there. I assume you are talking about Maggie MacDonald out at the Cheap Sleeper. Who do we have out that way?

Deputy Toby is on his way and Deputy Buck will meet you there. Oh, by the way, Dickie Duck will be there too. Dickie Duck, aka Doctor Richard Drake, was the town’s Medical Examiner and local doctor.

Chris sighed and decided not to correct Jimmy on Dickie Duck. After all Kali, Chris’s wife, created that monster. Jimmy, I’ll be there in twenty minutes; so let them know to hold off anything until we get there.

Okay, so you’ll let Kali know. Good, I don’t want to have to talk with her this early in the morning.

Chris finished feeding the horses and headed to the house to get, his wife, Kali. She investigated for the sheriff’s office. She wasn’t going to be happy about starting a murder investigation this early in the morning.

Kali was in the kitchen making toast and tea. She brewed coffee for Chris but she was a tea drinker. She loved a hot cup of tea on a cold morning. The minute her husband walked in the house, she knew by the look on his face that she wasn’t going to be able to enjoy that cup of hot tea.

Chris said, Hi, honey. He walked up to Kali and kissed her.

Kali was a former spy, something she never mentioned in public. Occasionally, she and Chris privately discussed the past. They had met over twenty-five years ago on an assignment. Chris was a Navy Seal that came to rescue her unit. As the assignments continued, their relationship grew. Kali didn’t like working with the Navy; she did like working with Chris. Handsome and compassionate, but on the job he was tough and didn’t take anyone’s crap. She smiled remembering that included hers–she was a handful back then.

What’s happening? I know that look.

Yeah, well, we have a murder out at the Cheap Sleeper. Must be bad, Maggie almost couldn’t speak.

Kali frowned and went to get her shoes and jacket.

Chapter Two

The scene was bad. The worst that Toby or Buck had seen in years. Blood pooled in front of the motel room door. Blood everywhere. Brain. Teeth.

Toby asked, My God who could do this to someone?

Buck said, A cold-blooded murderer with no remorse, no remorse whatsoever.

Older than Toby by more than thirty years Buck had a calming voice that reassured Toby. The younger man looked to the older as a mentor, as a father. Their relationship had grown over the past year. Buck saw strength in Toby that Toby had never felt in himself.

Where’s Maggie? Chris asked as he got out of the pickup. He parked haphazardly in a space.

Toby pointed to the office and Kali said that she would talk to Maggie. It was better that way; Chris and Maggie didn’t always play nice. Maggie had fiery red hair, stood five feet four inches and had a quick temper. She never forgot what someone did to her. Chris arrested her about a year ago when she refused to reveal what really took place at her motel. The Sheriff was certain that she ran a prostitution ring but it turned out that Maggie protected the women. It hadn’t been a good scene but at least the women were looked after.

On her way to the office, Kali took a brief look at the crime scene. She couldn’t believe what she saw. The body lay in a heap in front of the television. She had seen death before, even horrible death, but she couldn’t accept what one human being could do to another.

Maggie waiting in the doorway of the motel office watched Kali walk from room thirteen to the office. She thought that this murder affected even her. Kali had a natural beauty. Her beautiful hazel eyes with dark auburn hair added to her calm disposition. Maggie always thought Kali a tough woman. She wondered what made her tick. Kali was nice but she had a strength that came from somewhere. Maggie thought it might be from being married to that prick of a husband. Maggie still couldn’t get over the way the Sheriff treated Maggie with that fiasco last year. Who was he to think she was a madam. Goddamn prick.

Maggie asked Kali, as she got closer to the front door. Want a drink? I sure could use one.

Kali said, Little too early for me but you go ahead. She looked at Maggie and asked, You okay? What happened? She watched Maggie down a half of a juice glass of Southern Comfort, her red curls bobbed as she lowered her head.

I drove in this morning from seeing the kids last night and noticed the door open to room thirteen. I went closer and saw all the blood outside and Agnes dead in the room by the television. I wanted to puke but somehow managed to keep it down. I’ve never seen anything so horrible. Somehow, I got over to the office and called 911. I don’t know why anyone would want to hurt Agnes. She was different but nice.

Kali asked, Agnes?

Her name is Agnes Axelrod. I mean was Agnes Axelrod. Don’t know much about her. She checked in to the Sleeper at the beginning of the month. I have the registration card right here.

What do you know about her? Did she have any family? What was she doing here? Kali asked as she read the card.

"All I know is that she was looking for her son, Lucas, I believe that’s his name. She thought he was somewhere in the area. I don’t know if Agnes knew where he was, but she left every day to look for him. Poor woman I felt bad for her. She only wanted to find her son. I