The Boaz Scorekeeper–Chapter 46

The Boaz Scorekeeper, written in 2017, is my second novel. I'll post it, a chapter a day, over the next few weeks.

After work, I drove straight to Oak Hollow and went inside the house.  Since purchasing the Black’s property three years ago I had converted the house into an extension of my law office.  I often came here to conduct legal research and draft briefs for my appeals cases.  I also used one bedroom for my writing.  A few years ago, I had started writing short stories.  My ideas had mainly come from the criminal defendants I had represented.

Today, I changed clothes and sat at the kitchen table reviewing the mental plan I had prepared several weeks ago.  I had named it ‘the Kill.’  I had long determined that no matter what John’s family did after receiving my ransom note, that John would die.  That was the only true justice for what he had done.  I never promised his family they would ever see him again. 

Several months ago, I had rented a backhoe and brought it here to Oak Hollow.  I had used it to dig five graves.  They were at the back of the several acres the Black’s had cleared off, about 200 yards behind the barn.  This clearing is also fenced in.  I had bought five old horses and brought them here.  Today, two old horses would die, with one of them being the human kind.

I walked outside and to the barn and found John laying on the floor on his back.  I told him to roll over and to put his hands behind him. I unlocked the cell door and went in, cuffed his hands behind him and removed the shackle from his left hand.  I had him stand up. 

John kept saying that I was in more trouble than I could ever escape.  I just let him talk while I led him outside and down to the back of the clearing. I took one of the horses by its halter.  We walked behind John.  I had him open the gate.  The five graves were right beyond the fence.  When John saw the five holes in the ground he fell to his knees and said, “Micaden, you don’t have to do this.  It’s not too late.  I will pay you whatever you want and will never mention this ever.  Please, please don’t kill me.”

 I walked the old mare over beside the first grave and injected her with 50 mg of Diazepam as a sedative.  In less than five minutes she was laying down on her side.  I then injected her with 120 ccs sodium pentobarbital.  Within a couple more minutes, the old mare stopped breathing.  I had John lay down on his stomach, face down.

The shovel I had chosen was heavy with a long handle.  John kept trying to get up and I kept shoving him back down.  The first blow missed his head completely, hitting his neck below his left ear.  John rolled over screaming.  “God help me, Tanner please stop.”  The second blow was direct.  It centered the back side of his head. He rolled on to his left side.   I hit him again, this time across the face.  Blood began pouring from his nose and mouth.  It took five more blows before he died.

I removed the hand cuffs and pushed him into the first grave.  I used the shovel to cover his body with three or four feet of dirt.  I then used a come-a-long to pull the horse into the grave.  It took me over an hour to shovel in enough dirt to fill the ten-foot hole.

I walked back to the barn and hung up John’s cuffs.  After showering in the house, I drove home to Hickory Hollow.  Karla had my favorite meal.  Slow-cooked pintos and fried potatoes.  We spent the rest of the evening playing checkers with four-year-old Kaden.