The primary aim of the "Novel Excerpts" blog category is to showcase my creative writing, specifically from the novels I've written. Hopefully, these posts will provide a glimpse into my storytelling style, themes, and narrative skills. It's an opportunity to share my artistic expressions and the worlds I've created through my novels.
The Boaz Scorekeeper, written in 2017, is my second novel. I'll post it a chapter a day over the next few weeks.
Sunday night I finally slept. I had been operating on pure adrenalin since Saturday morning and had only caught a few quick naps. It wasn’t like I was now rested when my phone alarm went off at 5:00 a.m. I had preferred to stay in bed but, of all days, I had two court hearings in Etowah County. I got up, showered, grabbed my coffee, and headed to the office to review my two files while leaving Karla in bed. School was out today for some recently created City holiday.
Three hours later, I pulled into the parking lot beside the Courthouse and across the street from both the Judicial Building and the Etowah County Detention Center. It was there that I would be incarcerated since Gina’s body would be found in Etowah County, so it would have jurisdiction. I should have felt a little relief since the Center was a modern, well-maintained facility, unlike the Marshall County Jail where I had stayed for six months when, at only age 18, I fought my first battle with the criminal justice system. As an attorney, I had visited many clients in both jails over the years, and always got the creeps every time inside the Marshall County Jail. The reality is that both places equally accomplished their mission: to keep criminals and their cousins penned up and locked away from the common and elite citizens walking the streets. Each jail also was a place to slowly but surely whittle away at a man’s mind, daily piling little slivers of hope beside the bunk of every man whether he was laying down staring at the ceiling or pacing back and forth across his six by eight-foot cage.
To my surprise, my court appearances before two different judges went smoothly. I didn’t see a single eye give me a suspicious glance. I met Matt for lunch at the Blue-Collar Diner on 4th Street. He had spent the morning in Bankruptcy Court in Anniston and visiting a client in the Calhoun County Jail. We spent the next two hours continuing our conversation from late yesterday afternoon with him once again demanding that I not say anything at all to law enforcement after I was arrested but to wait to be interviewed in his presence.
After lunch, I drove the Noccalula Falls route back to the office. I wouldn’t dare turn down Dogwood Trail but after passing the turnoff, I met two police cars, noting in my rear-view mirror, they turned toward Oak Hollow. I decided not to return to the law office but to go home instead. I wanted to get outside and enjoy a long walk among the trees, many still brilliant with red, orange, purple, and an assortment of other multi-colored leaves.
It was nearly dark when I returned to the house. Karla had accompanied me for an hour or so but had returned to the house around 3:30 after failing to gain control of her crying. I should have not waited so long to tell her the inevitable. I had just changed my clothes and was heading to the kitchen for supper when the doorbell rang. Two middle-aged, but well-muscled, deputies wearing grim faces were standing shoulder to shoulder as I opened the front door. I knew both, having dealt with them on several occasions either at the jail or in the courtroom. “Mr. Tanner, we have a warrant for your arrest. Please step out on the porch.” I complied and after they allowed Karla to bring my most comfortable shoes, I was in the back of their squad car heading to the Etowah County Detention Center.
It was nearly 8:00 p.m. before I was fully processed and locked in a private cell. Many inmates want to be in, what is known as, ‘General Population.’ This is where you can mingle with other inmates during the day in a large room with bolted down tables and chairs, and then at night be locked up with another inmate in a six by eight cell along the outer walls of the central room. I preferred being alone, all the time. After getting my wish and sitting on my bunk for an hour or so, two deputies came to my cell door and one of them said, “get up Tanner, you’re needed in Interrogation Four.”
After my hands and feet were shackled, they led me to one of four interrogation rooms just outside the main lockup. I was familiar with each of these rooms having spent many hours in each one interviewing my own clients over the years. Matt and Detective Pete Morrow both stood when the deputies opened the door and gently nudged me forward. Morrow agreed to Matt’s request that I be unshackled. That was nice.
After a few not so pleasant pleasantries, Morrow got down to business. “Tanner, let me be clear. I am here for one purpose and that is to get your confession. I have just come from a meeting with the DA and after a long briefing he has authorized me to extend a very generous offer. In exchange for your confession to the abduction and murder of Gina Culvert Tillman, the DA will waive his right to pursue the death penalty.”
Matt looked at me and slightly shook his head sideways. “Detective Morrow, my client has no intention to plead to anything. He is not guilty and we can prove it.”
“I figured it was going to be this way, even told such to the DA. Your client’s tough guy stance is admirable right now, before knowing what we know. Let me brief you on the evidence we have. Gina’s body was found where an anonymous tip said it would be. Even though you do not own this property, we have eyewitnesses who saw you and Gina go there just this past Friday. We also know that you have been using this property, the house that is, as an office of sorts. So, we know you had full access and use of this property.”
“If your investigation has been thorough then you know that two of your eyewitnesses are Franklin and Danny Ericson, two enemies of my client.” Matt said.
“We are aware there has been some bad blood between them over the years. But, Mr. Tanner and the Riggins are and have been on friendly terms.” Morrow said.
“Here is Micaden’s statement that covers virtually every minute of his comings and goings since last Friday morning. It includes full details of the visit he had yesterday with James Adams and the victim’s husband, Wade Tillman.” Matt said.
Morrow took the statement and spent ten minutes reading it, twice. Matt had encouraged me to prepare a written statement. He said that my memory was the best it would ever be concerning what had happened since Gina called me Saturday morning. At first, I was against giving the DA anything so tangible, so quickly, but ultimately, I yielded to Matt’s advice. I would have been a fool not to listen to the man who had single-handedly pulled off a miracle nearly 50 years earlier.
“Sounds like we have the wrong man and that we need to arrest James and Wade. I’m sorry Mr. Tanner, but we are not quite so gullible. I forgot to tell you that not only did we dig up Gina Tillman’s body, but our dogs alerted us to two other graves right beside Ms. Tillman’s. The bones our backhoe operator unearthed are being examined at the State Forensic Lab in Montgomery as we speak.” Morrow said.
Matt looked at me and again motioned me to keep quiet. I got the clear impression that if Matt had been in a boxing match his look would be a mirror image of a dominate boxer having just experienced an unexpected and mighty left hook.
“Is there anything else either one of you would like to say?” Morrow asked.
“As my client has stated, he knows nothing about how Gina’s body wound up at what he calls Oak Hollow, nor does he know anything about any other bones. I urge you to pursue the clues clearly laid out in Micaden’s statement.” Matt said as though he had no choice but to use all his powers to get back to his feet and sling out some type of punch.
Morrow stood, walked to the door, looked through the window, and caught the eye of the deputies who had been standing outside Interrogation Four. As they were chaining and shackling me, Matt said he would come see me tomorrow after meeting with the DA. By 10:00 p.m., I was laying on my back on my bunk anticipating a very long and restless night.
The Pencil-Driven Life 