FOR MY BROTHER (Det. Jason Strong(CLEAN SUSPENSE Book 3) Read online

  Taking a tape measure, he stretched it the length of the basement. The measurement went into the file. Next, he stretched it crossways in the room. That measurement entered, he found the available square footage in the room. He subtracted the space he needed for his desk, divided the result by four, giving him the final size.

  He smiled to himself. Four-foot-by-eight-foot would be the size of each cell. It was easy for him to envision the layout, and he spent the next hour making a materials list for the project. It had to be done right, and it had to be strong. Billy was counting on him.

  *******

  The next morning, Donnie was up early getting ready for work. He had a part-time job with Summit Construction. He couldn’t work full time because he needed to be around for his mother, but the extra money helped to supplement her disability check.

  Mostly, his job was to ‘gopher’ for the full-time guys. The work was spotty, and physically demanding, but he was looking forward to going this morning.

  “Bye, Momma. I’ll see you later.”

  He kissed her forehead, as he always did before he left, and rushed out the back door.

  “Wait! When you comin’ home?”

  He didn’t hear her; he was already in the garage getting into the van.

  Donnie arrived at the job site about twenty minutes later. Summit was building a condominium complex in the northeast suburb of Windcrest. He found his boss in the site trailer.

  “Morning, Gary.”

  “Hi, Donnie. You ready to get to work?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Okay, I need you running wheelbarrows of gravel up to Smitty and Dixon. They’re prepping the sidewalk from Building One to the parking lot.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Donnie left the trailer and went to find the wheelbarrow. He knew he was in for a long day hauling gravel was hard work, but lunchtime would give him an opportunity to focus on his real mission for the day.

  *******

  After a long, hot morning, Donnie took lunch with the rest of the guys, but he didn’t eat with them. Smitty saw him leaving.

  “Where you goin’?”

  “Gotta run an errand.”

  “Better be back in an hour.”

  “I will.”

  Donnie got in his van, drove around the block, and parked just out of sight of the office trailer. Leaving the van running to use the air conditioning, Donnie waited for his boss to leave.

  Gary Maddox took lunch downtown with his girlfriend, and Donnie planned to use the time his boss was gone to sneak into the site office.

  Gary kept a .38 caliber revolver, which he called the ‘Texas Deal Maker,’ in an unlocked desk drawer. Donnie had seen the gun dozens of times, every time Gary told his favorite story.

  He would pull the gun out of the drawer, show it to the latest visitor, and then tell the same story.

  “Some guy who worked for me said I cheated him out of a day’s pay. He was wrong, of course, but he refused to leave the job site. I got this gun, and went out to talk with him.

  I said, ‘This is called the Texas Deal Maker, and I’m going to use it to make you a deal. You leave now, and I won’t use it.’

  He didn’t move, so I asked him if he was married, and he said, ‘Yeah, so what?’

  So I said, ‘If you don’t leave now, I’m gonna have to change the name of this gun to Texas Widow Maker.’ He left.”

  At that point, Gary would laugh as if it was the first time he’d told the story.

  Donnie thought it was funny the first couple of times, but the story had lost its charm. Nonetheless, he knew it meant that a lot of people knew where that gun was, and that worked to his advantage.

  A few minutes after he parked, Donnie watched his boss’s gray Dodge truck leave the construction site. He shut the van off, and climbed out.

  Checking his watch, he stepped through a gap in the fence, and came around from behind the trailer. After making sure no one had seen him, he slipped into the office.

  A blast of cool air hit him as he shut the door. Avoiding the windows, he walked over to the desk and slid the drawer open. The gun sat where he expected it to be. Picking it up, he opened the chamber. It was loaded. He clicked the chamber shut, and stuffed it down the front of his pants.

  Moving quickly back to the door, he cracked it open. The sound of tires on gravel stopped him cold.

  Was it his boss back early? Did Gary forget something?

  Donnie could put the gun back, and get it another day. However, he knew he might lose his nerve if there had to make a second attempt.

  He waited, and the sound of a vehicle turning around started his heart beating again. When it left the lot, he stuck his head out. He didn’t see anyone, and quickly retraced his steps to the van.

  Once inside, he hid the gun under his seat and started the vehicle. He still had an errand to run.

  *******

  “You’re late!”

  “Am not! Got ten minutes left.”

  Donnie smiled. He knew the guys liked to give him a hard time, and he wasn’t late. He set his Burger King bag down, and pulled out a hamburger.

  “So Donnie, what was your errand?”

  Donnie reached into his back pocket, pulled out new set of work gloves, and held them up for everyone to see.

  “Just needed new gloves.”

  Smitty grinned.

  “Hands hurt? Must be getting soft, Donnie.”

  “Not soft, just working harder than you, and wearing my old gloves out.”

  Donnie smiled to himself. His old gloves were fine, laying in his van, but the guys ribbing him meant no one had seen him. He’d accomplished his mission for the day.

  Billy will be pleased.

  Chapter 3

  Donnie pulled off the county road and headed down his lane. Getting the gun had pumped him up, and he looked forward to telling Billy. His brother would be proud of him, and would want to know all the details of this milestone in their plans.

  In the distance, he could see Momma waiting on the porch. She liked to roll herself out and wait for Donnie to come home from work. Many times, she would have a glass of cold tea waiting for him, and he would sit next to her as they watched the sun go down.

  Donnie had wanted to share the plan his mother, but Billy had reacted badly to the idea. On one of his late night visits, he had asked permission, and his brother had been very clear how he felt. Donnie had been surprised by the response.

  Whenever Donnie recalled the conversation, it was with some sadness. He couldn’t remember a time when Billy was alive that he’d ever gotten that angry with him.

  He didn’t like Billy getting mad at him. It didn’t happen often, but it always left Donnie upset.

  Sometimes Donnie would catch Momma dozing when he drove up, and today was one of those days. He thought about blowing the horn to wake her, but she probably wouldn’t think it was funny.

  Stopping the van in front of the porch, he climbed out. Climbing the steps to where she sat, he touched his mother on the shoulder.

  “Momma?”

  She didn’t move. He shook her a little harder.

  “Momma?”

  She didn’t respond. He bent down in front of her, his heart pounding, and looked up into her face. It was gray.

  “Momma! Momma!”

  Donnie shook her harder, and her head rolled back. He put his hand on her throat to check for a pulse. She was cold. He fell back onto the porch, tears rolling down his face.

  “Oh…Momma.”

  *******

  Donnie didn’t know how long he’d been sitting at his dead mother’s feet, but the sun was disappearing over the horizon when he finally decided what to do. Actually, he decided what not to do.

  He didn’t call 911. Instead, he decided to talk to his brother.

  Billy would tell him how to handle his mother’s death and what the impact would be on their plan.

  Donnie wheeled his mother back inside and into her bedroom. Cradling her in h
is arms, he managed to get her onto the bed. He gently laid her out, crossed her hands on her chest, and covered her up. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead.

  “I love you, Momma; I always will.”

  He turned off the light and closed the bedroom door.

  He hadn’t eaten, so he grabbed a bottle of chocolate milk from the fridge, and went back out to the van. He needed to get to the cemetery, needed to get to Billy, and receive some guidance.

  He knew his mother’s death would accelerate their plan, and he needed to focus on something other Momma.

  The moon was new and the cemetery dark when he arrived. Parking in his usual spot, he got out and slowly walked to his brother’s grave. He was dreading the news he had to deliver.

  “Hi, Billy. It’s me. I’ve got some sad news.”

  Donnie stood quietly looking down at his brother’s name. The rose his mother left lay wilted, dying. Donnie’s heart broke as he bent down, picked it up, and twirled it in his fingers. He could see his Momma there, laying it on the stone, and his tears began to fall once more.

  His expression changed from sad to surprised as a voice no one else could hear spoke to him.

  “You already know?”

  He listened.

  “You knew it was coming?”

  More silence.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you warn me?”

  Donnie was angry. His brother could have prepared him. Instead, he chose not to, and Donnie couldn’t understand why. His brother refused to tell him, changed the subject.

  Donnie scowled. “Yeah, I got it. It went without a hitch.”

  Donnie didn’t really want to discuss the plan. He needed to know what to do about Momma. He needed to know things would be okay.

  Donnie sensed the loss of his mother could be the catalyst for getting Billy his final rest, but he also feared it might derail everything. Right now, Donnie knew he needed the mission to keep his life from unraveling.

  “Where should I put Momma, Billy? There’s no room for her here with you, and I don’t want her far from us.”

  Donnie’s eyebrows went up as he listened.

  “Really? Do you think it would be alright?”

  A smile came to Donnie’s face. “That’s an awesome idea! I’ll take care of it now, but I’ll be back soon. I love you, Brother.”

  *******

  The next morning dawned warm, and found Donnie up early. He went into the barn, gathered wood from the lumber pile, and laid it out on the ground.

  He pieced it together in his mind. Some nails and he thought it would do the job.

  Donnie was supposed to work again today, and so he needed to call in. His boss answered.

  “Hi, Gary. Momma’s real sick, so I won’t be able to work today.”

  “Okay.”

  Donnie sensed something wasn’t right.

  “I’ll probably be in tomorrow morning.”

  “Fine. Donnie, you wouldn’t know what happened to my gun, would you?”

  Donnie’s heart started to pound.

  “Your gun? What gun? You mean the ‘Deal Maker’?”

  “Yeah, it’s been stolen. You know anything about that?”

  “No, of course not.”

  A moment of silence dragged on before his boss spoke again.

  “Listen, I don’t need the help right now, anyway. I’ll let you know if I want you in the future.”

  The line went dead before Donnie could respond. He hung up the phone. He didn’t want to lose his job, but he was relieved.

  His boss doesn’t know who took the gun.

  He suspects me, but he doesn’t know for sure. One less thing to worry about.

  *******

  He worked on it for most of the day, and when it was done, he stood back to look it over. Donnie was pretty sure his brother would be impressed.

  Donnie placed the lid on and carried the box to the house. Setting it down on the porch, he stopped for the night. He would finish the other half of his task tomorrow.

  Going into the house, he washed up, made himself a sandwich, and sat down at the kitchen table. The TV was off, his mother being the only one who watched it, and the house was quiet.

  The loneliness Donnie felt from the loss of his mother began to suffocate him. He was now completely isolated.

  First Billy, and now Momma, had left him. He had no friends, no other family, and now no job. Just Billy, and the responsibility to help him rest. Sadness washed over him. It helped that he could still visit his brother, but it didn’t stop the pain he felt inside.

  Donnie got up and moved to the couch, lying down on his side. He closed his eyes, held his stomach, and began to moan. A physical pain in his chest made him rock back and forth, tears filling his eyes.

  He didn’t know how long he lay there, but after a while, Donnie wiped his sleeve across his face and got up. He needed to get out of the house, and decided now was as good a time as any to look for Momma’s burial site.

  Going out the back door and around the garage, he stood looking over the farm property. Trees lined the fencerow along the back of the property, and Texas scrub had grown up through both the east and west fences. There was a small rise behind the garage with a Blackjack oak towering above the whole property.

  “You’re gonna’ rest there, Momma. Close to me, so I can visit anytime.”

  Knowing his mother would remain close by helped to calm the storm raging inside Donnie. He would bury her tomorrow, and then be ready to focus on the job he had to do for his brother.

  Chapter 4

  Donnie was up early again the next morning. The day promised to be hot, and the job ahead of him grueling. Toast and orange juice served as breakfast.

  After filling a rinsed-out quart milk jug with cold water, he went to the barn.

  Hanging on the wall was a pick, which he took down, and over in the corner was an old shovel. He examined the handle on the shovel and decided it needed reinforcement. Several wrappings of duct tape satisfied him that the shovel would hold up.

  Walking out to the rise behind the garage, Donnie found himself in a surprisingly good mood. He had a job to do, an important one, and that always made him feel better. A task allowed him to focus, to close off emotion, to sweat out some of the pain in his life.

  Donnie removed his shirt, tied it around his head like a bandana, and made a mental rectangle in the dirt. Starting at the base of the rectangle, he plunged the pick into the dirt.

  Once, twice, three, and then four times. He raised and plunged the pick into the dry Texas ground. Next, he took the shovel and removed the dirt he had broken loose.

  Over and over, pounding the dirt, shoveling out his pain. It was slow, hot, tedious, but he needed it.

  Donnie took frequent breaks, but was driven to keep going by the thought of helping his mother rest. She would be at peace on their land, and Donnie would be free to focus on finally bringing Billy peace.

  By four in the afternoon, Donnie judged the hole to meet the needs of his mother’s coffin. He sat in the shade of the oak, and drank from his third quart of water. It seemed to escape directly out through his pores as soon as he poured the water down his throat. He stayed in that spot until he felt strong enough to bring Momma out of the house.

  He placed the box next to the grave with the lid leaning against it. Inside, he laid his Momma’s favorite quilt and a needlework pillow, which had both her boys’ names on it.

  Donnie went inside to his mother’s room, gathered her into his arms, and carried her out to where the box sat. As gently as he could, he laid her in the homemade casket. He pulled the quilt up around her, and put the pillow under her head.

  Going over to the rose bush where she’d cut a rose each time she visited Billy, he clipped one for her, and laid it on her chest.

  Staring down at her, the tears began again, as he prepared to place the lid over her. He would never see her face again.

  After saying a small prayer, he willed himself to slid
e the lid over the box, and hammer in some nails to seal it.

  Using some rope, he managed to lower the box into the hole. Taking the shovel, Donnie prepared to start pushing dirt back into the hole.

  “Goodbye, Momma. I love you. I sure am going to miss you. Rest now.”

  Donnie shoveled dirt until after dark, covering the box completely. He sat down at the base of the grave, resting his head in his hands, while he stared at the fresh mound of dirt. It was done. Momma could rest.

  *******

  The sun blinded Donnie as he rolled onto his back. Covering his face with his hand, he tried to figure out where he was. It took him a minute before he realized he’d fallen asleep at the foot of Momma’s grave.

  He got up and tried to stretch. Every muscle complained. He was sore from the work, but his mind felt refreshed.

  He brushed himself off and went in the house. His stomach growled as he rummaged through the fridge looking for something to eat. A tub of plain yogurt with some maple syrup would have to do. After wolfing it down, he thought to look at the clock. He was surprised to see it was almost noon.

  Donnie spent the remainder of the afternoon picking up the tools and cleaning around his mother’s grave. Next, he made a cross, which he stuck in the ground by her head.

  Finally, he took a flat board, and using his pocketknife, scratched his Momma’s name. Under her name, he etched the dates of her birth and death.

  He held it away from him and studied it.

  It will do fine. Momma would like it.

  He nailed it to the cross, and sat at the foot of the grave while he watched the sun sink behind the horizon. It reminded him of their evenings on the porch together.

  He was glad she was close enough they could still share the sunset. When the light finally disappeared, and dusk started to turn to night, he stood.

  “Goodnight Momma. I’m going to see Billy now.”

  *******

  Donnie sat on the ground by the stone with Billy’s name.