Sperm DonationChapter 9
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RedemptionChapter 16 free porn video
cabin tents rented for $25 a day summer $30 a night winter rate extra person was $10
trailer rentals: larger $75 mid size $60 small $50which had become my Titan home temporarily
John Boyd 28yrs old at the start of the story
Gabby Boyd 25 yrs old. At the start of the story
Alice Boyd current owner of the Gatehouse
Edwardo world famous catfish chef (according to mom)
Joy and Jen wait staff for Alice Boyd’s catering
Jasper Amos hunter, guide, knife make
Sylvia Amos sheriff’s detective lieutenant
deputy Angie Davenport
Janson Marshall Angie’s husband.
Marion davenport Angie’s mom
Clyde Summers suicide victim
Edward Gaines suicide victim while serving time with John
Max Bork Gabby’s fancy man
Willow computer geek
Tom Jasper’s cousin and half ass builder
Martin cameraman
Vanessa producer
Walter Pickering Vanessa’s boss
Lamar the mechanic and junkyard owner
Everette mom’s new bf
Greta a camera person for Country channel
Manson country channel lawyer
Joyce Reedmon TV personality
Dawn Goldman ex-con
Mark Herman corporal with highway patrol.
Lucy Lovett Wedding photographer.
Tommy Lovett her ex
Lucy Lovett’s 13year old son Jude
Ned and Nadine Drake bait shop owners
Cindy SAA member
Lewis Smith excon computer repairman.
Paul Ramsey x chief deputy
Jessica Robit new cleaner. Aka Jessica Robot.
When I made the decision, it was reasonably early in the morning, well before lunch. I decided that this wasn’t the day for a murder. It was however the day for me to begin my war against Ramsey. I decided that if I was going to watch him, I might as well film him. I might not get anyone to do anything, but it would give me something to do during the boring hours of watching.
The first thing I had to do was to get Uncle Keith’s camera’s out of his safe in the Circus Tent. Keith had what amounted to a frontier safe. The kind you see in old westerns being robbed by the James Gang, In it he kept his valuables safe from the weather, and petty thieves.
When I opened it for the second time, since I moved into the campground property, I found the two five year old Panasonic digital cameras. They were cameras with excellent lenses, according to the literature. The electronics were by a respected company, Panasonic. The lens was manufactured by Lieca a highly respected optics company. There were also two auxiliary lenses in the case. One gave a wider angle of view than the normal camera lens, and the other doubled the telephoto image of the camera’s lens. The camera with a standard adjustable wide angle to telephoto zoom lens and the two auxiliary lenses were his total kit. He did have a fancy flash system he used for weddings. I didn’t even bother removing it from the antique safe.
I took the whole canvas bag filled with odds and ends to the Greenville Hobby shop. There I found a clerk who gave me a sales pitch for an upgraded camera system. After he figured out that I wasn’t going to buy it, he replaced the batteries and checked that the memory cards hadn’t been damaged by the storage length. He also cleaned the lenses for me. I left the hobby shop with new batteries and one new storage card. He even color coded the cards for me, just in case I found one of them failed while in use.
When I checked phone messages. I found one from ‘?’. ‘expted to hear the Egyptian was finished by now.’
I wrote back, ‘too little proof’. Stl cking’. I disconnected the phone in a huff, then went back to the vacant warehouse. I left the truck on a deserted farm road and walked through the woods. I wore the backpack that had belonged to Uncle Keith. I set up in my kill blind, but the only thing I pointed at the warehouse was a digital camera.
I shot lots of images of vendors bringing things to the club. At the end of the day, I was sure that there would be customers in attendance at the ‘Popup Club’. I expected Ramsey to be there to give the club his personal touch. His visit would also tend to keep the employees honest. I ate the cold muffin and drank the last of the tepid coffee.
I didn’t have to worry Jessica Robot drove my truck down to pickup the trailer. My phone vibrated. The message from Jessica was that the kayak were all home and accounted for. I sent a text that read simply ‘tks’.
Ramsey’s big Lincoln Navigator showed up around 10PM. I got a good shot of his license plate, lit by its own license plate light. Then I got a shot of him going into the rear door, lit by the safety light over the door. I also caught him coming out two hours later. I made pictures of every person who arrived. I stayed long enough to photographed the complete break down of the Popup Club.
It was after 3:00AM when I arrived home. I was exhausted so I slept like the dead. I checked my phone messages while I brewed the day’s fresh coffee. I personally preferred it a day old, In order to get it a day old, I had to brew it fresh while I still had at least half a pot from the day before. My kitchen was constantly a game of three card Monte. Follow the one day old coffee pot, was what I said to myself as I rotated the large plastic peanut butter jar of cold coffee.
In my phone voice mail I had a message from ‘?’. ‘did u spd the nght n the woods.’
‘n a bush back of a barn.’ I wrote.
‘th egyptian is alve?’ ‘?’
‘club is not a capital offense’, me
‘murder is’, ‘?’
‘not convinced’, me
‘Pussy’ ‘?’
“Fuck you,” I whispered.
I was five minutes late when I showed up for the trip to the boat ramp. I was also carrying a plastic container with three corn muffins from mom. I ate them with blackberry preserves while I drove.
I arrived at the boat launch area, then pulled the kayak trailer into a parking space. With the help of the guests I removed the kayaks. The three kayaks we didn’t need remained chained and padlocked to the trailer. My trailer had a new forked hitch. It could not be pulled without a special hitch. I had made the hitch myself. It hooked at two points on the truck. The pulling truck’s hitch had to have two hitches eighteen inches apart. If anyone hooked only one of the trailer’s hitches, it would swing wildly jerking the towing vehicle violently. Hooked to my truck it backed true without any swinging at all. I never worried about the trailer being towed away by a first timer. If it ever was stolen, it would have to be someone who knew me well enough to study the trailer hitch. All that to say, I really wasn’t worried at all about the trailer being stolen, just the kayaks from it.
I was back at the camp ground by 8:30AM. So life went on as usual. I read Emails off and on each day for about two weeks before anything happened outside the ordinary. I made time for an hour on the range. I fired the crossbow almost all that time, but I did spend a few moments each day with the throwing knives.
On the tenth day from the Popup club’s closing down, I got word via Detective Sylvia Amos that Dawn’s body had been found in a shallow grave near where my burned out truck have been found.
“So can you explain where you were at the time of her death,?” Sylvia asked.
“What day and time was it,” I asked.
“Sometime between Monday the tenth of of May last year, and the end of the month?” Sylvia informed me. “It was two days before you reported your truck stolen.”
“That was the day my truck went missing. I was working around the campground. I’m not sure who was around to verify it. I pretty much knew Dawn took the truck. I didn’t report it missing for a couple of days. I thought she would bring it back,” I said. “You are telling me she may have already been killed.”
“Yes I guess I am. That is unless you killed her, then you knew she wasn’t coming back,” Sylvia replied. I had sat down after she told me about Dawn. The shock and surprise knocked me off my feet. So the rest of her questions had little effect on me.
“If she was in Greenville after lunch, on the tenth, she was probably visiting the ‘walk in’ clinic across from Walmart. They promised to have the results of her blood tests then. You might have better luck there,” I promised.
“Maybe I can get the time line closer,” Sylvia grudgingly admitted. “I still want the names of the guests who stayed here during those dates,” she said.
“You’ll have to get those from my mom. I don’t know how to access those banking records, which are the only contact records we keep,” I informed her.
“Okay. I’ll check with your mom, then have someone call the guests,” Sylvia suggested. “Due to your previous relationship Angie, she isn’t going to be working on this case.”
“I thought it could be because she spoke to Dawn around the time you are talking about?” I asked.
“Did she really,” Sylvia asked.
“I’m sorry didn’t you know?” I asked before I realized that I had maybe let a cat out of the bag.
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