Losing Jon by David Parrish

Author:David Parrish
Format: epub
Published: 2020-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

When I got to Sandra’s, Mickey’s friends were letting themselves in and out of the front door, so I knocked and went in. Sandra was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a glass of water. I sat and loosened my tie, and she filled me in on what had happened in court while I was at the hospital looking for Jeff. Although she looked even more tired than she had at Jo Glasco’s office, she was animated and excited as she spoke.

“Tina wanted to go ahead with the trial, but the county made a motion to postpone. Tina said that, under the circumstances, she would not object. Everyone was so upset.”

“Did Jeff ever get there?”

“Yes. He was going to testify.”

“What was he going to testify about? I thought he got into an argument with his girlfriend at the motel and left early.”

“Didn’t I tell you? He saw the officers arrive and hid behind a Dumpster at the motel. He saw everything.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Jeff told me, and Sylvia. I don’t think anyone knew until a couple of weeks ago. Jo had him give a statement to the state’s attorney.”

“Why did he wait so long to let anyone know he was a witness?”

“Sylvia said he didn’t want to testify, but then Jon died and he felt bad about not coming forward before.”

“Did you notice anything about the way he talked today?”

Sandra looked pensive. “What do you mean?”

“It struck me as odd that he could speak with no particular difficulty after being strangled so hard that he fainted. Did that occur to you?”

“No.”

“And those marks on his back looked like grass cuts.”

“Like what?”

“You were a country girl. Remember how sometimes when you were a little kid, if you rolled around in the grass with bare skin you got large welts all over? They stung like hell the next time you took a bath. Of course, it would have taken some pretty large blades of grass to make those welts on Jeff’s back. They were huge. I never saw grass cuts that big, but that’s what they looked like. Lots of little scratches, big scratches, and red, swollen welts. Grass cuts.”

“I don’t know,” Sandra said. “I don’t guess I ever rolled around in the grass like that.”

Two guys came running into the house and up the stairs, talking excitedly. I didn’t catch what they were saying, but Sandra jumped from her chair and whispered, “Wait.” She hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs. After less than a minute she came back down.

“They’ve found something,” she said. “I listened through Mickey’s door and heard them telling him.”

The two guys came running back down the stairs. One was Sean Stewart and the other was a pitcher I recognized from past baseball days.

“Whoa,” I shouted, and they slowed and came into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been talking to Jeff,” Sean said. “He told us where he woke up and we went there. We found some stuff that I guess the police didn’t see.

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