Skiatook Lake

by Trevor Wolf

“Didn’t Mr. Johnson have a son?” questioned Albert Abernathy.

“Oh, I believe so, and a daughter as well. I think their names were Marcus and Alice, but I can’t be sure. Mr. Johnson always wanted to keep things private, but Jenny was over here all the time. Last time I saw her she said she was done with their marriage. That may have something to do with what’s going on. You can imagine the awkward situation that put me in! I feel bad for her of course, but can you imagine that? Having to divorce a divorce attorney! She’ll never stand a chance.”

Albert placed his teacup on the table. “It sounds like she had quite a problem on her hands.”

“Oh, believe me, she did. I’m sure you’ve heard rumors about Mr. Johnson. I remember when you used to tag along with your mother when we’d have our little luncheons? Those were always so fun! Anyhow, before that house was there, I could see the smallest part of the lake just over the horizon. I guess it doesn’t matter now anyhow. I can’t see that far anymore in my old age. Still, you’d think they’d let someone who’s been living here for over 60 years have a say in where they can build. They didn’t even ask me if I minded them blocking my view?”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Carmanita. So you haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary recently?”

“Suspicious? No, nothing that I can think of. Unless you include an abandoned house. That’s been a little creepy.”

“Well Carmanita, I’d better get going. Thanks for your time.”

“It was great seeing you, Albert.”

“You too, Carmanita. You know my number, right? Just give me a ring if you find something out.”

“Okay, Albert. Take care now.”

Albert rose slowly from the familiar flowered couch in Carmanita Carson’s living room. He grabbed a handful of mints from the bowl at the end of the hall as he proceeded out the screen door and onto the covered deck that faced towards Mr. Johnson’s mansion. Mr. Johnson’s mansion perched at the top of a hill small hill and was situated a safe distance from the cliffs the surrounded the edge of the property. Marcus Johnson had been missing for more than a month, so Albert new he was most likely weeks behind the trail at best. The only physical thing missing were the Johnson’s cars. Albert would send a report to the sheriff’s office to keep an eye out for them. If someone found the car, they could find Marcus Johnson. Having exhausted the last of his resources at the scene, took account of what he did know. There was anything unusual about the Johnson’s property, except for the missing cars of course. And it sounded like one of the cars was with Mrs. Johnson and her kids. In addition, the most recent dated item he could find was a check written on March 16, suggesting that he had been gone for more than a month. A month had passed, but it turned out the Skiatook police had a special dislike for Marcus Johnson after he had helped their ex-wives in court. Albert was the backup plan as a private investigator. But from the sounds of it, Mr. Johnson was better liked missing.

***

Tulsa was a real metropolitan city in contrast to the large estates, open fields, and lake front properties of Skiatook County where Mr. Johnson’s estate resided. Albert made a quick call to the law firm to find the address to Mrs. Johnson’s parents’ residence, and then he was on his way.

Albert knocked smartly on the large wood door. A young blonde woman answered the door. Had the circumstances been different, Albert would have been attracted to her. But this was strictly business.

“Hello, are your Mrs. Jennifer Johnson?

“Yes…? How did you find me here? Can I help you?”

“Mrs. Johnson, I’m here on behalf of your husband’s law firm conducting a private investigation on the recent disappearance of your husband, Marcus Johnson. I was hoping you might be able to answer a few questions.”

“Marcus? Why yes, of course. I can answer a few questions, but I wouldn’t know anythin’. I haven’t talked to him since we moved down here to Tulsa more than a month ago.” She still stood in the doorway, partially obscuring his view into the house.

Albert proceeded with his interrogation. “It’s interesting that you bring up the time you left, Mrs. Johnson. It appears that he too disappeared about a month ago. Can you think of anything that would have made him simply vanish? Nobody at work, in town, or even his closest personal friends have seen or heard from him in a long time. In fact, it was Mr. Johnson’s law firm that hired me as their private detective for the case.”

“Oh dear. Isn’t that a shame? I wish I could help you, but I simply can’t think of anythin’ that would make him leave.”

“Are you sure, Mrs. Johnson? It seems rather odd and uncharacteristic of a father to completely abandon his children.”

“Who? Little Marc and Alice? He barely even said anythin’ to those kids, let alone acted like a father to them. Hell, I have Marc see a psychiatrist twice a week and he’s only twelve. They’re sayin’ that some of his behavior he’s been showin’ is because of that bast-my husband, I mean, my husband. Sorry. As you can tell, things didn’t end too well with us.”

“I understand, Mrs. Johnson. I have to ask, when was the last time you saw him?”

“Well, let’s see. I remember packin’ up and leaving after we got into a fight on a Wednesday. I have no idea what the date was, but I’m pretty sure that was four weeks ago.”

“I see. And you weren’t concerned about your husband bringing kidnapping charges once you left? I mean he is a lawyer.”

“Of course! I’d be stupid not to be scared. But you see, I was so fed up with our relationship and the timin’ just seemed right. However, I’ve been ever so pleasantly surprised. I expected the police would have been here within a week, but they never came. I guess it makes sense now that I know he’s been missing.

“I agree, Mrs. Johnson. Please let me know if you find anything new or hear from your husband.”

“HA! I’m pretty sure the only reason he’d be calling me would be to follow through on his promise to take the kids if I ever left him.”

“Well, if he does, let me know.”

She was hiding something. After at least thirteen years of suffering and fighting through raising those children, she had suddenly decided to pick up and leave right before her husband disappeared. Albert didn’t buy it. As he stepped off the porch and into the afternoon sunlight, he took a second to reflect. He took notice of the bare, sun-dried soil in the planters and the brown remnants of what used to be grass that scoured the lawn. And as he proceeded up the driveway an audible male voice could be heard yelling. “JENNY! How many times have I told you to keep track of those damn kids of yours! Next time I find something left out in the kitchen I’m kickin’ you out with those damn kids of yours. I don’t care if they’re my step grandchildren, they’re no blood of mine and this is my house…” The voice trailed off as the footsteps could be heard moving to the back of the house. Obviously, this wasn’t a place where Mrs. Johnson was truly welcome with her children. She must have been in an awful to situation to seek escape at this hellhole. But Albert knew it wasn’t his place to judge.

As Albert proceeded down the drive, an excruciating pain erupted in his midsection. Albert hunched over. As fell to his hands and knees, two more shots, one to his lower back and the other to his left shoulder. In the fetal position, on the ground, and writhing in pain, Albert found himself immobile and unable to even think about what was happening. Suddenly, a small figure raced out of the bushes, hurtling a small tricycle to get to Albert.

“Gotcha good! Ima good shot ain’t I?”

Albert couldn’t respond.

“You suck at this!” Exclaimed the small boy. Albert could just make out a gun-like object in his hand. Albert thought about reaching for the gun holstered to his waist, but he couldn’t bring his body to cooperate through the pain. “The last guy at least put up a fight. It took me seven shots to get him down.” The small boy aimed his small paintball gun at Albert’s ankle. Knowing the boy only had a paintball gun, Albert decided he didn’t need his gun. Plus, he knew the boy wouldn’t shoot him now. He was wrong. The boy shot him in the ankle, and Albert felt flecks of paint hit his face as his ankle absorbed the blow. “Well you’re not going anywhere fast! I read the box! This here gun guarantees welts with every shot! Pretty cool huh?”

“Kid, you’re messed up,” Albert managed to say from the ground. “You Marc?”

“Yeah,” The boy’s grin disappeared, “And I’m not crazy! Don’t ever call me crazy!” Marc raised the gun, fixated on Albert’s paint splotched forehead.

“Kid, I didn’t call you crazy. I said you’re messed up.” Albert couldn’t get over the fact that this little kid had a paintball gun. What kind of parents did he have?

“Same difference!”

“Suit yourself kid,” Albert rose slowly. Maybe this kid could be some help. “Hey, you got any more of these guns?”

Marc’s expression changed completely. “No, but I got me a real gun that’s even better! It’s the best gun there is. Look here!” Marc sprinted to garage, which had already been propped open, as Albert limped behind. As Marc rummaged through his pile of toys in the garage he exclaimed! “I found this gun myself! It has bullets and everything!”

“My God, Marc!” The young boy emerged with a real, double barrel shotgun. He immediately brought the gun up to his eye and started aiming for something to shoot. An open box of shells lay at his feet. “Where in the hell did you get that!”

“It’s a secret! Hey that’s mi-” Albert snatched the gun from the little boy.

“You shouldn’t have this gun. I’m telling your mother if you don’t tell me where it where you got it from.”

“No! You’re not the boss of me. You can’t do that!”

“Fine.” Albert walked around to the front door.

“WAAAIIT!” Marc came running from inside the garage. I got it from Ms. Carson, my neighbor. She said she didn’t want it no more.

“Ms. Carson? Carmanita Carson?”
“Hell, I dunno what her name is. She’s that old lady who lives next to us. Can I have my gun back?”

***

Albert knocked on the screen door. “Carminita, it’s Albert. Are you home?” Silence. It was dark and the mosquitoes were out and swarming. Swatting at his arms, Albert was unable to fathom how Carmanita could explain giving a shotgun to a kid.

“Oh Albert, back so soon?” Albert pushed open the screen door and walked in through to the unlit dining room and began searching for the light switch. “Stay right where you are.” Her tone had shifted from sweet to stern. Albert could just make her out against the background of the flowered couch. She was short, frail, but very obviously point a pistol in his direction.

“Carmanita, what are you doing? Where do you keep getting these guns? You were the last person I thought to own a gun.”

“Well, you found me out, didn’t you? Discovered that I killed Mr. Johnson, right?”

“I do now. But why on earth did you give a shotgun the Johnson boy?”

“Give him a gun? Heavens no! That rascal must have taken it. He used to come over with his mother all of the time.” She gripped the pistol tighter as her frail arms struggled to hold up the gun. “So now what am I going to do with you?”

“Carmanita, please. You can barely hold that gun! How could you have killed a grown man?”

“Albert, I thought we knew each other better than this? Back in my youth I used to go hunting. I’m a damn good shot, I’d thought you known that.”

“Obviously I didn’t. At answer me this, why kill your own neighbor? I mean it wasn’t any of your business.” Albert could feel concerned, even with a gun pointed in his face. In fact, he found the situation almost comical. Carmanita may hold a grudge or may be crazy, but there was no way a frail old woman was getting a clean shot at him in the dark with a pistol.

“None of my business? I was better than family to the Johnson’s. Of course I hated Mr. Johnson, who wouldn’t? He’d always burst through my door in the evenings, without knocking of course, every time his wife went missing. He’d usually come in, yell and rant for her to show herself, and then leave. However, he’d always take a handful of mints,” She gestured to the door, “and would shove them in his mouth as he walked out the door. All I can say is that I got rid of him to preserve whatever good that family had left. They didn’t know about my plans, of course, but the timing was just meant to be. Jenny took little Marc and Alice down to Tulsa earlier that day. I guess Marcus and Jenny had some big fight or something the night before. I ended up putting some of my sleeping pills in the mint tray, hoping he’d snag them that night, and I could have my way with him. Sure enough, Marcus burst into my house around six that night. I hid in my room until he left. When I checked the mint box, a bunch of my pills were gone.”

“Wait, so he just ate your pills? It really was your lucky night. ” Albert found himself more amazed than concerned for his own safety.

“I guess so. I looked up at the house later that night and the car lights were on, so I went to check it out. Turns out he didn’t even make it out of his car. Just passed out in the driver’s seat. I didn’t have to do much.”

“How did you pull it off then?”

“I just lined up the car towards the lake and jammed his briefcase against the gas pedal. The car went off the cliff with him inside, he was already dead of course. I had shot him in the head earlier just to make sure I did the job right. But the lake did good job tidying everything up.”

“Indeed.”

“I’m glad you think so Albert.”

Albert took a step closer to Carmanita. “But Carmanita, why did you tell me all of this?”

“I suppose it was for the rush. It’s over now, and it’s on to bigger and new things.”

“How so?” Albert took another step towards to Carmanita. He was still quite a far from Carmanita, and to make matters worse, he realized he had just stepped in front of the window, casting the moonlight on him. For the first time that night, he noticed palms were sweaty.

“You see, now I have a greater project and a bigger question. How am I going to get rid of you?”