A Trail of Vengeance, page 26
At last, Beth felt it was time to head back, tell the authorities what had happened, and face the aftermath of the events. As she began to make her way back down the jetty, she saw in the distance two sets of flashing lights heading her way. Here comes the cavalry, she wryly thought, only an hour too late. By the time she arrived back to her bike, two beach patrols had reached the jetty. Ron was the first to hop off the patrol and run towards Beth.
“Beth, thank God you’re OK,” he exclaimed, “Where’s Shannon? Did she bike out here?”
“She did. She’s over there.” Beth pointed to the spot in the water next to the jetty.” She paused to let it sink in. The others had also joined Ron. Sheriff Keating and the Blonde and Dark-haired Dudes from yesterday. They all looked to where Beth pointed and saw nothing but rocks, beach, and ocean.
Ron bit first. “Where over there? I don’t see anything.”
“No, not now. Thirty minutes ago her head was still above water. The rest of her had sunk down into the sand.” The four men looked at Beth and each other, not believing at first what she had just told them. “She came after me, with a gun! Shot at me three times. I had to dive into the ocean to get away from her. Then she stepped off the jetty into the soft sand to try and chase me down. Right over there. Sank straight down to her waist. Fucking bitch shot her last bullet at me stuck in the sand. And that was it. I’d be damned if I was going to lift a finger to help her. The things she told me before she went under I will never forget — or forgive.” The four men were speechless.
Finally, Keating directed the two beach patrol dudes, “Go ahead — fish her out.” Neither Beth nor Ron knew how they were going to do it, but the dudes went straight into action. Blonde Dude backed the patrol buggy up to where the sand began to soften, then pulled out a long rope, tying one end to the buggy’s back hitch. Then Dark-haired Dude put on a pair of swimming flippers, grabbed the other end of the rope, and cautiously waded into the soft sand. Beth and Ron watched with interest as the flippers did not sink into the sand. Keating knew their secret. “Surface area is the key in these conditions,” he instructed the two novices. “A leg will sink straight down, but the extra surface area of the flippers will prevent it. We’ve made several rescues like this in the past. But never a recovery. That’s why we post signs and close the part of the affected beach.” Keating gave Beth a condescending look.
“Yes, Sheriff, I’m aware I should not have come out here. I guess I should have just stayed home where she would have shot me in my house.”
“Mrs. Long, we offered you an officer for protection this morning and you turned it down.”
Ron felt he needed to intervene. “Sheriff, it’s been a trying couple of days for all of us. We’re all glad Beth is safe, and Shannon is no longer a threat to anyone.”
Keating realized he didn’t need to push the matter any further. He turned his attention back to the recovery effort. This gave Ron a minute alone with Beth. “I found out a lot about Shannon last night and this morning. She was a very disturbed woman.”
“You can say that again,” Beth replied, “some of the things she told me after she was stuck were very disturbing. She told me she deliberately killed Ben after he was struck by lightning, and that she had an affair with him all that summer. I’ve never seen anyone with so much spitefulness and vengeance.”
“That was her sickness. She was diagnosed with Ambivalence Schizophrenia. Once she went off her meds, she couldn’t control the level of hate to anyone she perceived had wronged her. And the incident back in 1997 never left her. She had a very messed up childhood but kept things together under medication. Unfortunately, once she stopped her meds these things were bound to happen.
“So, what happens now Detective?”
“Well Mrs. Long, I’m afraid you trespassed on a closed beach. You may pay a small fine for that. If they try to pin you for willful endangerment, or failing to assist someone in need, or any other such bullshit, I promise to put my foot down and intervene. But I think your good Sheriff will be more than happy to have Shannon sent back to Ohio and be done with the case. There will be no reason to pursue criminal charges post-mortem. However, you are free to pursue civil charges for Jake’s medical bills, as I’m sure a couple of families back in Ohio will be doing the same. Her father has plenty of money to spare.”
“The father — ugh. It really all started with him, didn’t it?”
“I think he certainly played an important role in it all. I also learned that she killed her mother and made it look like an accident.”
“Really? Wow — shocker,” Beth quipped, rolling her eyes.
“Shannon was a time bomb waiting to go off. I’m very sorry you got mixed up in it. Several times as it appears.”
“Yes, it does appear so.” The two turned their attention to the beach patrol. They had a rope secured around Shannon’s body and were ready to pull her out. The buggy revved several times, and then slowly, Shannon emerged from the shallow waters. They dragged her body to the dry sand and had a sheet ready to cover her. Beth took one last look at Shannon’s face. She was emotionally spent. There was nothing left to feel. Beth turned away and asked Ron, “Can I go? I need to see my husband.”
******
Ron helped Beth load both of the bikes onto the buggy and had a few final words with Keating. On the ride back to Beth’s home Ron tried to make pleasant conversation. “It really is beautiful down here. But it looks like this is the only beach time I’m going to get.”
Beth smiled at him and said, “You should extend your trip by a couple days and enjoy it.”
Ron laughed, “I wish I could. In the rush to get here, I left everything hanging back in Cincinnati. I need to get back there as soon as possible.” They continued to drive past the state park campground. “There is one question I have for you Beth.”
“And what would that be Detective?”
“The day you reported Shannon and her father. What were you doing in the condo complex? I mean, you weren’t staying there, right? You lived here.”
Beth thought about it for a second and responded, “Yes, I’ve always lived here. I had made another friend that summer. A girl named Jennifer, from Pennsylvania. She was vacationing with her family for the month and was staying down the breezeway from Shannon’s family. I guess I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Don’t think that Beth. What you did was brave. Shannon was damaged enough as it was. You prevented things from getting even worse.”
Beth chuckled at that. “Worse? Worse than killing her mother? Worse than returning later as a revenge-fueled murderer?”
“Well, if you put it that way.” They drove some more in silence. “You know, I’ve been chasing Shannon for over a month now. I had this vision of catching up to her, slapping the cuffs on, and reading her her rights. As it turned out, I never met her alive.”
“Yeah, well I did. You didn’t miss much.”
They approached Beth’s house and stopped at the access walkway. Ron helped bring the bikes around to the carport. “Sheriff Keating will pick up the patrol buggy on his way back. I’ve got to get back to Mt. Pleasant, get my things, and fly out of Charleston this afternoon. We’ll be in touch I’m sure. I’m so glad you weren’t hurt in all of this. Give my best to Jake and Sarah.”
“Thank you Detective Dempsey. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us.” Beth hugged Ron then watched him get in his rental and drive away.
******
Beth drove to Waccamaw Elementary School and picked up Sarah half an hour early, then the two drove to the medical center. They walked in Jake’s room to find him awake and in good spirits.
“How did your bike ride go this morning?”
“Oh, not without some adventure,” Beth teased him.
“What does that mean?”
“Well let’s just say we don’t have to worry about Shannon anymore. She kind of got stuck in the mud.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you telling me you saw her again?”
“I’m telling you she’s no longer a threat to us, Jake. I’ll go into the details later. How are you feeling?”
“Is that the lady who shot Daddy, Mommy?”
“Yes Sarah, and she had an accident and died on the beach this morning.” Jake’s eyes popped open.
“That is terrible Mommy. Did you try and save her?”
Beth looked at her innocent daughter and ailing husband. “No honey, I couldn’t. There was nothing I could have done. Now she won’t be bothering any of us ever again.”
“Well, that’s good Mommy. She sounded like a very mean lady.”
“Yes dear, she was. She was very mean. Listen, why don’t you run down to the nurse’s station and ask when the doctor is coming to see your Daddy.”
“OK Mommy, I’ll be back in a minute.”
After Sarah left the room, Beth went to Jake and kissed him hard on the lips. “So, are you feeling better?”
“Yeah, I am. They’re telling me another day or two in here. Can’t wait to hear more about what happened out there.”
“I’ll save it for when we have more privacy. But I did want to ask you about one thing. Shannon confessed a few things to me at the end. She had some type of schizophrenia and went off her meds. That’s what turned her into a psychopath. But even more interesting is she changed her story about what happened in Nashville.” Beth paused and watched Jake’s eyes open wide.
“Oh,” he said slowly. “And what was that?”
“She said she slept with you Jake. Is that true? You can tell me.”
Jake mumbled for a few seconds, then put on the most ‘poor puppy dog’ face he could muster. “She got me drunk and then seduced me, Beth. Please forgive me. When she showed up here, she tried to seduce me again, then blackmailed me. And I refused. When I tried to stop her yesterday, look what happened. I’m so sorry Beth. I’m so sorry.”
Beth held Jake’s hand as empathy poured forward. “I do forgive you Jake. I know now what kind of a monster she was — and how weak men can be — when it comes to sex. Let’s agree to put the past behind us and make a new start. Can we do that? For us, and for Sarah?”
“Come here,” Jake said, opening his arms. “You are the only one for me. Now and forever. I love you.” Beth buried herself in Jake’s arms and covered his face and neck in kisses.
As tears filled her eyes, she softly whispered in his ear, “I love you too Jake. Now and forever.”
Excerpt from Culligan’s Way
In the week since his doctor visit, Tim had begun to think more and more about his family—the cast of lunatics, bigots, drunks, and fools he’d sworn he would never again have anything to do with. It was exactly ten years ago this May, one day after graduating high school — humiliated once again at his graduation party at Culligan’s Way — that he’d cashed out his savings account, boarded a bus out of Pawleys Island to Myrtle Beach, and then caught a Greyhound to New York City to start his new life.
Now, for the first time since that fateful summer day, Tim was thinking seriously about the possibility of going back. He contemplated what he remembered about his family, what Sally had told him had happened in the last ten years, and what they might be like now. It had began with his father, of course — Judge Rudolph Culligan — a driving force in Georgetown County justice and politics for over thirty years. The Judge—Rudy to his friends and confidants, simply sir to Tim and everyone else — ruled Culligan’s Way the same way he ruled his courtroom, with an iron fist. Sally told Tim that Rudy had been ranked the second most conservative and punitive judge in South Carolina, and rumor had it he was none too pleased about being runner-up to anything. Rudy was a devout Catholic who insisted anyone living in his home attend mass each Sunday, attend Sunday dinner at the Way, and never utter a cuss word in his presence. In Tim’s childhood, the phrase “washing your mouth out with soap” had been applied literally and liberally in the Culligan household by the Judge, and by his mother on occasion. Tim remembered how awestruck he’d been at the vulgar language all around him upon arriving in New York. He’d adjusted pretty quickly.
Judge Rudy had no patience or temperament for many portions of the population — lawbreakers first and foremost, but not too far behind were Democrats, liberals, Yankees, anyone not heterosexual by nature, and feminists, in no particular order. He went out of his way to insist he was colorblind and had no bias when it came to race, religion, or national origin. A statistical study of his thirty years of rulings might suggest otherwise.
Tim hated him as much as any other human on earth. Except for his brother. Tim considered his older brother Randall — Randy to everyone except their father — the most loathsome creature God had ever placed on the planet. No two men could possibly be more opposite from each other, and Tim often wondered how it was conceivable they shared the same DNA. Randy was four years older than Tim but light-years less intelligent, compassionate, considerate, and respectable. In Tim’s humble opinion, his brother was a drunk, a misogynist, a homophobe, and a sadist rolled into one despicable human being. At least, that was what Tim remembered him as.
It was Randy more than anyone else who had made life so intolerable for him in Culligan’s Way. Tim’s last four years there, his high school years, had been a living hell. But for Randy, who’d barely made it out of high school himself, those four years were where he’d honed his skills of being a malignant narcissist and turned his parents into enablers. It was Randy who was responsible for what had happened at the graduation party. The fury Tim felt that night, the last night he had seen or spoken to his brother, still burned hot a decade later. He never asked Sally about Randy on their infrequent phone calls. Every once in a while, she’d throw in an unsolicited tidbit or two.
Randy had served some time for his umpteenth DUI, and eventually even Rudy couldn’t save him. He was engaged to Molly Elmwood twice, but never married. Tim remembered Molly from Waccamaw High; she was just a year older than him. A nice girl, even if she was a little on the slutty side. She’d understood how he was different. Not many kids had. According to Sally, Molly and Randy seemed to have an ongoing love-hate relationship. Rudy disapproved. Randy seemed to live part time at the Way and partly at a fish camp on the Waccamaw river, where he stayed drunk with his buddies and pretty much left the real world to everyone else. Tim would have to check with Sally to see if this was still the case. The thought of living in the same house with his brother, even in the spacious mansion of Culligan’s Way, might just be a dealbreaker —if there was even a deal to begin with.
Then there was Mother. Ruth Culligan. What memories did Tim recall most vividly? The bi-polar rants when she went off her meds, the off-the-charts OCD when it came to the cleanliness of Culligan’s Way, and the iron grip she held around the management of the home. More than anyone else, Culligan’s Way was Ruth Culligan — the embodiment of a woman who was at once a pillar of strength and at the same time bat-shit crazy.
But if Tim were to be allowed to come back home, it would be Ruth who allowed it. She was not reserved in telling those around her that while Rudy may consider himself the head of the family and the household — that was his right — Ruth was the neck, and the neck turns the head. Rudy knew his place. He loved his wife despite her many flaws. Their marriage of now thirty-five years, twenty-five at the Way, had survived her mental instabilities, including two hospitalizations Tim knew of, infidelity, and attempted murder. Actually, all of the above were related.
It was well known in Pawleys Island lore that in 2002, Ruth caught Rudy in a sordid affair with a local waitress. She subsequently mixed a teaspoon of rat poison into his Pimento cheese, which nearly killed him and left him with partial paralysis on the left side of his face. Ever since, Rudy had a droopy left eye, a flabby left cheek, and difficulty hearing out of his left ear. A constant convenient reminder, in Ruth’s estimation. Ruth agreed to a guilty plea by reason of insanity. When all was said and done, Rudy bargained a stint at the Charleston Dorchester Mental Health Institute in lieu of prison time. After that, Rudy kept his cock out of the local pussy pool, or at least he kept any shenanigans out of Ruth’s sight. The second session five years later had more to do with a seventeen-year-old, out-of-control Randy. Tim had laid witness to that whole repugnant affair. If Ruth had spent any more holidays in Charleston in the last ten years, Sally hadn’t mentioned them.
But Ruth had her bright side as well. On her meds, she was a loving and caring mother. She managed the help and always made sure they were taken care of, including their extended families. She defended the Culligan name with fierce determination. Any negative news in the media would result in a behind-the-scenes threat to the offending outlet’s advertising being pulled. After one such negative story aired on Channel 17 out of Myrtle Beach relating to Ruth’s second stay at Charleston Dorchester, the news outlet found themselves on the short end of their two highest-grossing revenue sources, the Juan Rivera law office and Coastal Chevy / GMC. Rudy had gone to law school with Juan, and the president of Coastal Chevy just happened to play eighteen holes with the Judge every Saturday afternoon at the Caledonia Country Club in Pawleys. The following week, Channel 17 aired a retraction of their previous story as well as a glam piece on their morning talk show, showering the Culligans with praise for the many contributions they had made to the community. The neck always turns the head.
Tim paused his recollections and smiled as he thought about the degree of power and influence his family yielded over pretty much the entire South Carolina coast north of Charleston. And that was just what he had experienced, plus the little bit Sally had shared. A ray of hope shone on Tim; he actually looked forward to hearing more of the stories from the past ten years he had shut himself away from.
