Murder in Magnolia

Most men would have retired at his age, but no, he just kept working. After all, how else could he keep control over the town and his investments? There was one other distinction he had; he was the grandfather of the deceased! As he sat there, Ethan realized that events had just spiraled out of control and an impending feeling of dread came suddenly over him.

Chapter Two -- "The Town"

Magnolia back then was a tiny, insignificant, depressing town that was at least a hundred miles away from every major city in Georgia. It was well known by anyone who visited Magnolia that the town was so dreary that it seemed to have a numbing effect on all hapless travelers that were misfortunate enough to enter its influence.

Most people that either visited the place or were former inhabitants lucky enough to escape said that after a while, the town would slowly lull them into a state of melancholy which grew stronger the longer they were there.

All this, of course, made the second leading cause of death amongst town's folk suicide, a close second only to alcoholism! It was so bad that people from the neighboring towns used to laugh every time they were asked for directions to the place saying, "Magnolia? It's a few more miles down the road a spell. Just look for the sign that say's Hell and then keep going south a bit. You can't miss it!"

That was part of the problem with Magnolia; it was so insignificant that you couldn't even find it on a map. And if you did, it was probably an oversight of the map maker, for had he ever been to the place, he wouldn't have wanted to remember it let alone tell anyone where it was!

Downtown Magnolia itself consisted of a town square and four large streets. Each street ran in some way parallel to the square and if there was a business in town, it could be found somewhere on one of those streets. Every street in the downtown area was lined with massive magnolia trees for which the town had been given its name over two hundred years ago by its founder, Jeremiah Harris, old Doc Harris's great grand father.

At the center of the square was city hall, a building that from the looks of it must have been constructed some time just after the Civil War, or as some of the older townsfolk called it, "The Great War Of Northern Aggression", and next to that was the County Courthouse.

Every major building from the town hall to the post office looked like something out of a 'B' version of Gone With The Wind, old, cheap, and badly maintained!

There was one general store, one drug store, one doctor's office, one auto parts store, the local finance company, and one feed store, all of which were owned by Joshua 'Doc' Harris or one or more of the members of his family.

Without a doubt Doc Harris was the wealthiest man in town for he also owned not only the town's one grocery store, but also the drug store and the town's only farm supply-general-hardware store. Hell, he even had half ownership in the town's only restaurant, the other half being owned by his brother.

But even though his family owned just about everything, there had been times when it looked as if he was in danger of loosing control over it.

About a year before, some of the locals had quite vocally started complaining to the town council about their inability to attract new business to the dying little community.

Everyone was surprised when he showed up one day at and demanded the council reform and become more active in trying to attract new business to "our poor economically depressed, but quite beautiful little community" as he so eloquently put it.

Two weeks later, his economic monopoly on the county appeared to be broken when out of town investors built not only a new convenience store but also a new drug store. The voices of the dissenters died down and finally disappeared.

Had anyone ever bothered to check into it, they would have easily discovered that the same corporation owned both franchises; and, that the head of that corporation was of all people, Doc Harris.

Before then, there had been only one gas station and one grocery store in the county.

At the time, the only business he had never been able to acquire in the past was the town's one and only gas station. He had not only not given up his monopoly but, the sly old bastard had made it stronger by building the convenience store. And so, in the end, "Doc's" ability to undercut the man's price per gallon on fuel, would lead to the eventual closure of the small family run business.

What only a very select few people knew was, Doc had been using his influence with his brother the Mayor, and the town council to make sure that no potential outside investor ever walked away with anything remotely resembling a favorable impression regarding the profit potential of the county.

In fact, until the malcontents started complaining, the old doctor had found it very easy to maintain his monopolistic control over the county, probably due to the fact that most of the council members were either his nieces, or nephews or in some way related to him by marriage.

The town and most of the county were totally dependent on 'Doc' and his family for just about everything from the food they ate to the mortgage on their homes.

And the rural community around Magnolia didn't fair much better. The small farmer with fifty acres of land just couldn't afford the large machines and supplies like peanut diggers, hand shellers, cotton carts, poultry house cleaners, employee salaries, fertilizer, and insect spray any more. He just didn't have enough acreage to make it profitable.

Many small landowners rented out what farmable land they had to the larger landowners and would take jobs at the local poultry processing plants or accept whatever work they could find.

While the state of Georgia might rank first in production of frying chickens, peanuts and pecans, and second in the production of cotton and rye, farming is an expensive business. It just wasn't profitable to plant a crop and have it bring in $1100 an acre at market when you spent half that to get it there, assuming you didn't loose most of it to drought, unseasonable rains, unpredictable freezes or worse.

No, the days of the small farmer were gone, having long ago been replaced by the professional businessman.

But times were changing and the old doctor was finding it harder to rule in the same iron handed manner that he used to and he was finding it increasingly difficult to keep outsiders from threading his tiny little empire.

To sum it up, Magnolia was a decaying little town being run by a corrupt old man and his family of fellow vultures, all looking for any opportunity to pick it clean to the bone of anything of value.

Chapter Three -- "The Pistol"

It was early in the morning the day after the shooting. Sammy and his brother were knocking at the front door of the trailer belonging to James Rollins. James lived in a broken down old trailer that looked like it was built in the 1950's.

The trailer was located at the very end of a two-mile long dirt road in the back woods areas of the county laughingly called Route Three. The only sign of civilization, other than the tiny mobile home that is, were the power and phone lines running along side the road.

As they got out of their pickup truck, they were greeted by the annoying sound of mockingbirds screeching in the background and the sweet smell of honeysuckle growing in the nearby woods.

James's girlfriend, Cindy Benson, opened the door, still yawning as she pulled a rather flimsy house robe shut around her body, just not fast enough to keep the two brothers from catching a quick glimpse of her luscious young body.

Cindy was the hottest girl in town and had a reputation for being the its easiest lay. She would sleep with anyone that showed up with a couple six packs of beer or some weed and had probably slept with half the males in the county. If the truth were known, she was personally responsible for taking the virginity of most of the boys and men between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five.

In a town that small, there was no hiding a reputation like that and James knew all about her abundant sex drive. He just ignored it. Partly because she was the only girl in town that would put out to him, but mostly because she also just happened to be the sheriff's daughter! And, when you're the local bootlegger, didn't hurt at all to have advance warning before 'John Law' came calling at your door!

She just stood there, not paying too much attention to how much of her ample bosoms her two cousins could see.

She was about five foot four inches tall, had natural blond, wavy hair that flowed almost to her waist, blue eyes, large breasts for a woman her size and very sexy pouty lips.

The two brothers smiled at her lecherously.

"Morning Cindy!" Said Sammy. His brother was still staring speechlessly at his cousin's tits.

"What the fuck do you two pecker-heads want this hour of the morning that couldn't wait until later?" She asked, as she stood halfway in the open door.

Sammy replied to her, "I need to talk to James. Wake his fat ass up and tell him to get out here."

The young girl disappeared for about a minute, then came back and said, "He said to tell you it better be good or the next time you want some booze you're gonna have to drive all the way over to Newnan to get it." This was an especially hideous threat as Newnan was at least two-hundred miles away!

The two brothers didn't respond. Sammy simply ignored her comment and Bert was still staring at her tits. The girl then she added in a softer voice, "Morning Bert, how's Tracie treating you?" Tracie was Bert's girlfriend.

Seemingly entranced, Bert remained mute.

Cindy giggled and said in a slightly louder voice, "Hey Bert, want some milk?"

"What?" She had caught him off guard. He tried to recover and forced himself to stop staring at her magnificent tits, "She don't talk to me no more ever since she found my girly magazines. She got mad and told me she out to be enough woman for me."

Cindy ignored her other cousin and said seductively to Bert as she ran the fingertips of her right hand slowly down the outer collar of her house coat as though she were reacting to the chill of the morning breeze. The movement revealed even more of her bosom for them to see before pulling it tightly around her, "That's no way to be. I look at them myself. They got some real interesting pictures in them. I wouldn't mind if you looked at them magazines if you was my man."

Cindy had been after Bert since she was in the sixth grade. Despite his obvious attraction to her, he had never given in to her blatant sexual advances.

"Yeah," he replied to her, "and your daddy would cut my balls off and feed them to the chickens down at the hatchery too if he even thought I was so much as looking at you!"

As she purposely let her gown slip open just enough to show off a little more bosom, Cindy said to Bert, "What daddy don't know won't hurt him!"

"Thanks Cindy," Bert said thoughtfully, "But I'm kind'a attached to my balls. I think I'll keep'em a little longer. Your Pa can find something else to feed to his chickens!"

Her father, the sheriff, also owned the local chicken hatchery and the hatchery happened to be one of the two largest employers in the county, the other being the local cabinet shop. Just about everyone who wasn't farming, either worked at the hatchery or the cabinet shop. And a few that did farm, also worked at one of the two places just to supplement their meager incomes.

Disappointment in her voice, she glanced over her shoulder and then said, "James is coming. Don't forget what I said Bert." And then she hastily stepped back out of the doorway. When she was out of the way, her current fuck-buddy, James Wilkins, stepped into the doorway. As he did, Bert and Sammy saw Cindy walking down the hall to the back of the trailer. A few minutes later, they heard the sound of a TV blaring away.

James was a chubby man and stood there barefoot dressed only in a dirty sleeveless tee-shirt and blue jeans. There was a brown mustache on his face that and the 'peach fuzz' of a beard that he had been trying to grow ever since he was in the fifth grade. His tee-shirt didn't quite cover his hairy belly and there were several small holes of various sizes in it. The blue jeans he was wearing had rolled up pants legs that having never been hymned were frayed at the bottom and there was a large grease stain on each knee.

"What's so damn important that it couldn't wait until after noon?" Asked the chubby man as he squinted and raised his left hand to block the early morning sunlight that was shining directly in his eyes.

Stepping between the sunlight and James, Sammy said to the man, "I need to talk to you about the gun," Then he added, 'in private!"

"Hey, I told you, I didn't know nothing about it! I bought it from an old wino that was looking for beer money. That's why it was so cheap. So, if it's broken, don't come lookin' to me for no refund. I aint got your money no more!" Sammy suspected the chubby man was lying but let it pass.

When James started to close their door in the two brothers faces, Sammy stuck his right foot in the door so the James couldn't close it, "Unless you want to go to jail, you better let me in! Jimmy's dead! "

As the unshaven man looked at the two brothers hesitantly, Sammy said to him reassuringly, "Don't worry none, were not here to hurt you or nothin'. Besides, if we was, we aint stupid enough to do it with Cindy around! Now let us in so we can talk."

James opened the door the rest of the way and let the two brothers enter.

For the next five minutes, Sammy told him about the events of the night before.

James looked at him and asked, "What do you want with me? I'm right sorry Jimmy's dead, but it aint my fault!"

"Well," Sammy began, "If you want to stay out of jail you better tell everyone the gun was stolen."

With a look of confusion, James said indignantly, "I didn't do nothin' wrong, why should I do that?"

"Because if you don't, Bert and I are going to tell everyone that you told us you traded it to Ethan for some beer and that your were going to sell the beer up at the high school parking lot after the football game Friday night." Sammy told him flatly.

The bootlegger looked from one brother to the other angrily.

"It was stolen the night of the killing! You understand? You didn't sell it to me. You left it in the glove compartment of your pick up truck that afternoon the way you usually do and you noticed that it was missing the next day." Sammy elaborated.

The nervousness showing in his voice, James Wilkins said, "But what do I say when they ask me why I kept it there?"

"Just tell them that you always kept in the glove compartment incase you came across an injured animal. Everybody knows that deer a getting hit all the time around here crossing the highways." Replied Sammy.

James looked at him questioningly, "But they're going to ask me why I didn't report it!"

"If anyone says anything, you didn't get a chance to report it because you didn't notice it until the next day when you went to get it so you could shoot up some old ammo you had laying around." Sammy answered.

James was trapped and he knew it. If the two brothers went public about his bootlegging operation, he would be up on both federal and state charges. Hell, the D.A. would probably add 'Contributing To The Delinquency Of A Minor" just for good measure. If that happened, the next piece of ass he saw would probably be "Bubba" trying to rape him in prison!

With no other choice, he nodded his head in agreement.

As the two brothers were walking back to their pickup truck, Bert turned to Sandy and asked curiously, "I know Cindy don't got no high standards. But, what you figure she sees in him?"

"Besides the free booze?" Sammy inquired as they both climbed into the pickup truck.

"Yeah." Replied Bert.

"Remember when we was showering after gym class?" Sammy asked.

After he closed his door, Bert thought about it for a minute, then it dawned on him. James Wilkins might be seventy pounds overweight and sleazy looking as hell, but he was also hung like a horse!

As the pickup peeled off down the dirt road with the sound of a Hank Williams Jr. song blaring loudly from the radio, Bert though to himself, 'Too bad her daddy's the sheriff. Cousin or not, I wouldn't mind tapping some of that a few times.'

Chapter Four -- "The Conspiracy"

Two months later, Ethan's case was about to come to trial. He had spent the entire time in the county jail.

He had no confidence in the public defender assigned to him and almost hit the man when the shyster suggested that Ethan accept the plea bargain offered by the state.

It was a shitty deal. The man wanted him to plead guilty to second-degree murder and with it a sentence of twenty years to life. Ethan told his lawyer that he was innocent, and to tell the D.A. to take his plea deal and shove it up his ass!

At the very same time Ethan was sitting alone in his cell wondering what would happen to him, Ethan's friend Johnny was getting out of his squad car. The young lawman had been sent by the sheriff to get lunch from the town's only restaurant.

The restaurant was a small whole in the wall place that specialized in fish that was so fresh you actually picked it live from one of the restaurant's large tanks before they cooked it the way you wanted.

With the D.A. and sheriff inside waiting for him, rather than taking the time to put the car keys in his pocket, Johnny hurriedly sat them on top of the food containers and got out of the car. When he was out, he picked up the containers sending the keys sliding towards the ground. They bounced off the toe of his left foot and slid under the squad car.

He bent down to pick up the keys but found they were to far under the car to reach them and had to lie on his back just to get at them.

Once he was on the ground, he noticed something lying about thirty feet away under Ethan's car. Left on the street, it had been towed and was parked in the impound lot on the other side of the chain-link fence near where the police cruiser was parked.

Even from that distance Johnny could tell that the shinny object glimmering under the vehicle was a knife!

After setting down the food, he picked up his keys and got and evidence bag from his squad car. Johnny unlocked the gate leading to the impound lot, carefully retrieved the knife and placed it inside the bag. Then marked the bag as evidence and went back to his car to get the food.

"Well how did it get there?" Asked Simon Randal, the town's prosecutor. They were all in the sheriff's office talking about the knife while their lunches sat on the desk getting cold.

Johnny looked at him and said, "Hell, I don't know! I guess it must have bounced off the ground and got stuck in the undercarriage of Ethan's car somehow. It probably fell loose when the car was being lowered to the ground by the tow-truck."

"This changes everything! That knife supports the story Ethan and Becky told. It also means that your two cousins perjured themselves on the stand. I have no choice but to notify the defense of this evidence. I might as well dismiss the charges now." Yelled the now red-faced prosecutor. His temper was renowned and he didn't like to loose.

Johnny said to the sheriff, "Somebody better tell Doc before he hears about it. You bet he's going to be pissed!"

"Don't look at me! I'm not going to be the one to tell him. He's already pissed at me because I wouldn't let Sammy and Bert go into Ethan's cell and work him over!" Exclaimed the sheriff.

Randal spoke up just then and said, "Fine then, get him on the speakerphone and well all do it!"