Straightening the Curves

Chapter Fourteen: The Hammer Head

Cooter eventually woke up that morning around six AM. He barely remembered last night's disturbing events and had hoped that it was all just a crazy nightmare. He realized that it had all been real when he realized that he didn't wake up in a bed at the hotel. He was on the cold hard cement, damp from last night's shower, and with an aching pain in his head.

He touched the top of his head where he had been hit and winced when he felt the huge knot. The ringing in his ears didn't help none either as he tried to stagger to his feet. He stopped when he heard the clicking of a gun.

"Don't move."

Cooter squinted to see that there was a troop of armed officers surrounding him, all of them pointing loaded guns at him. At first he was slightly confused but then he understood—they thought he was responsible for this murder! Oh dear, and add that up with the murder they already thought he committed----

"Listen, there's been a huge–"

"Shut up!" the officer snapped. "Johnston, Parker, take him in an' read him his rights."

"But—you've got the wrong guy!"

"I said shut up!"

Balladeer: What a way to start the mornin'.

Eve was away in dreamland, snuggled up in bed next to Rosco, when the phone rang. She groaned to herself. She had not asked for a wake-up call.

"Say hello from Rosco," her husband muttered sleepily in her ear.

"Say it yourself," she mumbled back. "You're closer to the phone."

Without bothering to open his eyes, Rosco blindly reached for the phone behind him and answered, "Hello? Oh." He yawned and held the receiver to Eve's ear. "For you."

She let him keep holding the phone for her while she talked. "Hello? Oh, hello, Cooter." Her eyes flew open and she jumped up from where she was, grabbing the phone for herself. "Cooter?"

Cooter sat, once again, in the same cell he had been in the first time he was arrested. He was sitting on the bed they had in there, just scratching his head at the whole thing. He went over all the details in his mind and it still didn't make much sense to him. That face—the face of the killer—it was too bizarre!

He could hear the television that the guard was watching outside the door. The sound of a woman reporter broadcasting the latest news came on.

"Today, right here in Atlanta, the suspect of the Caskells murder—Cooter Davenport—has been arrested today by the Sheriff's department for yet another murder, this time twenty-four year old Heather Kent. Kent was leaving her work place at the local art museum when she was strangled by a plastic bag and beaten with a hammer—the same method that was used to kill Caskells five months ago. Davenport was found unconscious in the alleyway, the murder weapon in his possession. Investigators are sure that he will be found undeniably guilty for both murders."

A man's voice came up, probably an officer or even the sheriff himself. "We at the station sorta deemed him as the Hammer Head."

"Great, I have a new name now," Cooter sighed, putting his head in his hands.

Luke was laying in bed next to Ali, who was sound asleep. Luke had gradually woke up, remembered what had happened between them last night and smiled to himself. He curled back up next to her when he realized he wasn't even sleepy anymore. He looked at her clock—six-thirty AM. Goodness, it was early.

He carefully got out of bed so not to wake Ali, put on his boxers and stretched out his muscles. Just to have something to listen to, he switched on her radio at low volume to listen to see if anything was going on in the area.

"Another murder has been committed in the Atlanta area, just last night by the man that the local station has started calling 'The Hammer Head'. Twenty-eight year old Cooter Davenport, is being held in custody for the murder of young Heather Kent."

Luke nearly fell out on the floor. He immediately started shaking Ali awake. "Ali, wake up! There's been another murder an' Cooter's been arrested!"

"Cooter?"

The mechanic looked up and saw Eve coming straight for him. He got a somewhat smile on his face and stood up to meet her. "Boy, am I glad to see you! When can ya bust me out?"

She had a sad look in her eyes. "They refused bail. Sorry, sweetie, you're stuck in there until the trial's over—which they postponed today, due to this."

Cooter became downhearted at that point, going back and sitting on the bed. He looked so miserable, Eve almost wanted to cry. She went back to the door, said something to the guard who got up and unlocked the door. He opened it for her, let her in, and then closed and locked it.

"Just yell when you're ready to leave," the guard instructed, leaving the two alone.

Eve sat on the adjacent bed in front of her cousin and took him by the hands. "Mind tellin' me what happened?"

He didn't meet her eyes when he spoke. "It was so surreal, Evie. I didn't even know what was goin' on. One minute I'm lyin' in bed an' I get this crazy feelin' that I need to go outside an' look around. So I do that an' before I know it I see this dead girl lying on the ground. She looked like that other girl from them pictures we saw. I got sick to my stomach an' then I realized that whoever was responsible might still be around. So I call out to the guy an' he attacks me. We get into it for a while an' I saw his face."

"You saw his face?" she asked, a glimmer of hope shining in her eyes. "What did he look like? Did ya recognize him?"

Cooter looked a little baffled at the question, as if he wasn't too sure how to answer it. He shook his head and replied, "Look, Evie, I appreciate you tryin' to help me an' all but it might be best if we just plead guilty."

She gave him a stunned look. "Cooter, what are you sayin'? You can't give up now, not when you've seen the real killer with your own eyes!"

"That's just it, Evie. Nobody would ever believe me when I said who it was. Take my word for it. I feel like I'm losin' my mind over this. I sure felt like that last night."

Eve sighed and dropped her head to think. "Cooter," she started off, lifting her head back up. "You may have given up, but I'm not about to let these dirtbags lock you away for somethin' ya didn't do. Look at me while I'm talkin' to you," she said firmly, using her hand to grab his chin and move his head so he could face her.

"You remember, long time ago when I was about ten years old an' you were eight? It was at Aunt Sally's house on the Fourth of July. One of the beagle dogs got lose an' went after a little rabbit during the big barbecue. Me an' you went racin' after him to drag him home. There was a big barbed wire fence that separated Aunt Sally's property from the neighbors an' the dog had gone up under it to chase the rabbit. You climbed over it okay, but—"

"You fell an' got tangled up in it," Cooter finished for her. "An' ya started screamin' at me to run on an' catch the dog while you tried to get unraveled yourself."

"But ya didn't. Ya stayed there with me to help get me out of the wire, although I kept tellin' ya to leave. You said that ya weren't about to leave me alone when I was in trouble." She squeezed his hands. "Well, that's what I'm sayin' to you. You're in trouble an' I'm not about to leave you alone. So just buck up an' hang in there. We'll get this barbed wire off ya."

Cooter had tears in his eyes. "Thanks, Evie."

She gave him a big bear hug around his neck and gave him a little kiss on the side of his head.

"Now, ya gonna tell me who it was ya saw last night or do I have to beat it outta ya?"