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May 20 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 55

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The Mayor stormed through the police station, flanked by Sheriff Hammond on his left and a sleazy looking lawyer in an off the rack suit on his right.

“Walker, you horse’s ass!” the Mayor shouted. “Where’s my boy?”

Cole stepped out of the break room with Rusty in tow. “There a problem?”

The Mayor looked at his associates and laughed. “’Is there a problem?’ Son, is the pop of Catholic? Does a frog bump his ass on the ground every time he hops? You better believe there’s a big problem.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Sheriff Hammond said. “I always knew the situation between you and the Mayor was tense, Cole, but I never dreamed you’d be so unprofessional as to use your office to harass the son of a dedicated public servant.”

Cole sipped his coffee. “I didn’t harass the son of a just public servant,” the chief said as he pointed at the Mayor. “Just the son of that useless old drunk pile of shit over there.”

The Mayor was outraged. He turned to his lawer. “Sic em!”

The Mayor’s lawyer was a tall man with a bad rug on his head. He handed the Chief a piece of paper. “Chief Walker, I’m Max Weintraub of the Law Firm of Weintraub, Weintraub, Weintraub and LeFoy and this is a court order demanding the release of Buford Dufresne at once. You have no reason to detain this man.”

“Never was detaining him,” Cole said. “He was always free to go.”

“Oh, no,” Weintraub said. “Don’t think for one second you’re going to be able to fool me with that nonsense.”

“Say,” Rusty said. “Aren’t you that fella on TV with that commercial where you tell people you can get them big bags of cash?”

“No,” Weintraub said. “You’re thinking of my brother, Weintraub.”

“That’s not you?” Rusty asked.

“No,” Weintraub said. “I’m a different Weintraub.”

Sharon, Gordon and Buford emerged from Cole’s office. Buford ran like a little boy to his father.

“Daddy!” Buford shouted.

“Son!” the Mayor replied.

Father and son shared an embrace before the Mayor returned to his old tricks.

“What’s wrong with you people?” the Mayor asked Sharon. “Don’t the Feds got nothing better to do than harass pillars of the community like my boy here?”

“Mr. Mayor,” Sharon said. “We believe Buford is holding out on information that could help us find whoever killed your…I’m sorry, was Roxy your ex-wife?”

“No,” the Mayor said. “She was just a stripper at Big Ray-Ray’s House of Fancy Fun Bags back in 1989 when I strolled in, wearing a spiffy suit with big fake shoulder pads. Some random hair band music was playing and Roxy, why, she gave me the best time of my life for the low, low price of five dollars.”

“Five dollars?” Sharon asked.

“It was the eighties, darlin,’” the Mayor said. “You cold buy a damn house for five dollars. Anyway, we had our fun and nine months later, well…”

The Mayor reached up and put his hands over Buford’s ears. “We never had the heart to tell Buford he was an accident baby.”

“My Momma and Daddy were in love!” Buford shouted as the Mayor removed his hands from the boy’s ears.

“Well,” Sharon said. “Regardless of the relationship, don’t you want to see whoever killed your son’s mother brought to justice?”

“Indeed I do,” the Mayor said. “That’s why I’m gonna offer a big time cash reward for information leading to the Toilet Killer’s capture.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of you maybe talking to your son and getting him to tell us what he knows,” Sharon said.

“Are you kidding me?” the Mayor said. “Lady, the boy doesn’t know shit! Look at him. He’s like a giant fuckin’ man baby. He’s one step away from me having to change his diapers for him. I know what this is all really about.”

“And what is this about?” Sharon asked.

“You,” the Mayor said before he pointed to Cole, “And him used to be hitched until you left him on account of his diminutive penis.”

“I should get my own lawyer and sue you for slander,” Cole said.

“The truth is always a defense to slander, Chief,” Weintraub said. “You sue my client for his statement about your penis and I’ll be left with no choice but to file a demand that you produce your penis in court for a full inspection as to its size and length.”

Cole stepped up to the lawyer and looked him right in the eye. “That’s a challenge I’ll accept any day of the week and twice on Sunday, pal.”

The Mayor threw up his hands. “Look,” he said to his lawyer. “All I know is this police chief has always been after me, threatening me with scurrilous charges because I have been a vocal advocate of transferring Sitwell’s law enforcement needs to the capable hands of Sheriff Hammond here, and now he’s in cahoots with the gal he used to give his microscopic pecker to, trying to frame my boy to get back at me.”

“That’s absurd,” Sharon said.

“It is,” Cole said. “And if you’d just stop drinking and driving, I’d stop pulling you over, Beau.”

“That’s an outrage, sir,” Weintraub said. “One more crack like that and I’ll have a judge put a gag order on you.”

“Good,” Cole said. “Maybe I’ll hire one of the other Weintraubs to defend me.”

“They’re all busy,” Weintraub said as he handed the Chief a business card. “LeFoy’s free though and his rates are very reasonable.”

Cole slapped the business card out of the lawyer’s hand, then looked at the Mayor. “Take your spawn and get outta here!”

Sharon snapped at Cole. “That’s not your call to make.”

“Oh,” Cole said. “Sorry. You want to keep him?”

Sharon shook her head as she looked at the Mayor. “No. Take your spawn and get out of here.”

“You haven’t heard the last of this!” the Mayor shouted. “Sitwell PD is done! All of this, gone! Enjoy the unemployment line, Cole!”

Cole sipped his coffee and watched as the trio leave.

“Might as well cut that little turd loose too,” Cole said as he pointed at Paul, who was still sitting by a random desk. “I don’t think he knows anything.”

“Fine,” Sharon said. “But Cole, does the Mayor really have that kind of juice, enough to…get rid of you?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Cole said. “Sitwell’s changed a lot since you left. All power in these parts runs through, up, and out of that asshole’s asshole.”

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May 20 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 54

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Cole and Rusty had reconvened near the department’s coffee pot, each sipping from a mug.

“The dude was naked?” Rusty asked.

“As the day he was born,” Cole answered.

“And she was in a bathrobe?” Rusty asked.

“Yup,” Cole said.

“Wet hair?” Rusty asked. “Like she’d just been in the shower?”

“Yup,” Cole replied.

“And she was coming back to the room with a bucket of ice and a bottle of wine?” Rusty asked.

“Affirmative,” Cole said.

“That’s the most white trash thing I’ve ever heard of,” Rusty said. “Who puts ice cubes in wine?”

“I don’t know, Rusty,” Cole said. “Maybe the ice bucket was just to chill it.”

“And she got it for him,” Rusty said.

“What?” Cole asked.

“Well,” Rusty said. “Usually it’s the man doing romantic gestures, like going out to get a bottle of wine. But here, you got the woman doing it, so clearly she’s smitten.”

“Smitten?” Cole asked.

Rusty sipped his coffee. “Sharon ever bring you a bottle of wine?”

Cole sighed. “I can’t say that she has.”

“Didn’t think so,” Rusty said. “And I’m sorry to say this but given the circumstances you’ve laid out for me, I can come to no other conclusion than that your ex-wife and that big beast of a man are…”

“Don’t say it,” Cole said.

“…fucking,” Rusty said.

“I asked you not to say it,” Cole said.

Rusty ignored his friend’s plea and carried on. “Deep, down and dirty, hardcore, X-rated fucking.”

“Stop,” Cole said.

“Worse,” Rusty said. “This man has turned your ex into a slave…a slave for his gargantuan dong.”

“It was massive,” Cole said.

“Women pretend like size doesn’t matter but it matters, Cole,” Rusty said. “It totally matters. When a woman is with a man who has been blessed with a King Kong dong, all their talk about feminism and women’s rights goes out the window and they become a slave to the dong, doing all sorts of crazy things, like going out in a bathrobe in the middle of the night in search of alcohol to appease her well endowed master.”

“It was a mistake for me to go over there in the first place,” Cole said.

“Damn right,” Rusty said.

“You’re the one who told me to go over there,” Cole said.

“Did I?” Rusty asked. “Don’t listen to me, man. I say all kinds of shit.”

Maude stepped into the break room and set her oxygen tank down on the counter. She then poured herself a mug of coffee.

“What’s everyone talking about?” Maude asked.

“Nothing,” Cole said.

“Sharon’s getting straight up plowed by her partner,” Rusty said.

“Shut up,” Cole said.

“Dude’s got a damn boa constrictor in his pants,” Rusty said.

“Is that right?” Maude asked as she let a cigarette.

“I don’t see any need for this conversation to continue,” Cole said.

“It’s huge,” Rusty said. “Cole walked in on them while he was banging her into next week.”

“That’s…” Cole struggled to avoid an urge to slap Rusty. “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m telling the story better than you told the story so I can keep Maude’s interest,” Rusty said.

“I’m not that interested,” Maude said.

“Aw come on, Maude,” Rusty said. “You’re a woman.”

“Last time I checked,” Maude said.

“Tell Cole to give up and move on already,” Rusty said. “Sharon’s got a damn bratwurst and there’s no way she’ll ever go back to a cocktail weenie.”

Rusty looked at Cole’s face. Suddenly, he knew he’d gone a step too far. “I’m not knocking cocktail weenies. I got one. You got one. Most men are average it’s just…men who are above average live lives of rarified air and when a woman gets a hold of a big ole’ baloney pony she’s never going to let it go, right Maude?”

Maude shrugged her shoulders. “I dumped a man with a big one for my Arnold.”

“What?” Rusty asked.

“It’s true,” Maude said. “When I was a girl…”

“…back when the world was young and dinosaurs roamed the earth,” Rusty added.

“You want the story or not?” Maude asked.

“Sorry,” Rusty said.

“When I was young,” Maude said. “I dated a man who was in a motorcycle gang and this fella was packing a unit that could have served as his very own kickstand.”

“Goddamn,” Rusty said.

“I don’t need to hear this,” Cole said.

“And sure, that life was fun for a young girl,” Maude said. “Drugs and danger and all that but you know what? Larry was a real asshole. Constantly cheated on me and took me for granted. The last straw came when I caught him in a truck stop bathroom with another girl. I walked right out of there and was fuming mad but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have a ride home so I…”

“Called upon your pet brontosaurus to whisk you away,” Rusty said.

Maude clutched her cigarette between her thumb and pointer finger. “I will put this out in your eye.”

“Understood,” Rusty said.

“I met Arnold,” Maude said. “He was a long haul trucker who had stopped for gas. Such a nice, sweet man. I gave him my number and he courted me proper. We went on all sorts of dates. He brought me flowers and the whole bit. And even though he had a small one, I told him I loved him every day until the day he died and I still do today every morning before I get out of bed. I just wish he were there to hear it. Ehh, maybe he still does somehow.”

“How small are we talking about?” Rusty asked.

“Oh,” Maude said. “Way, way below average. Looked like a button that got lost in a pile of wheat grass.”

Rusty chuckled.

“It was like a little mouse that was afraid to peek out of his hole,” Maude said. “But the moral of the story is, yes, women do love big ones, but any woman with half a brain isn’t going to put up with a bunch of bullshit to hang onto one…and she’ll even deal with a small one if its owner is a good egg.”

“I don’t have a small one,” Cole said.

“Whoa,” Maude said as she puffed on her cigarette. “That information is between you, God, and the millions of people who watch Network News One.”

“You get the point, Cole?” Rusty said. “You might still have a shot with Sharon if her partner ends up being an asshole.”

“Ugh,” Maude said.

“What?” Cole asked.

“Nothing,” Maude said.

“No, what?” Cole asked.

A thick trail of ash plopped into Maude’s coffee. That did not stop her from taking a long, vigorous sip. “None of my business, but if you go back to her after what she did to you, I’m going to call you a pussy.”

“That’s what I said,” Rusty said.

“Well,” Maude said as she exited the break room with her tank in one hand and cup in the other, “Even a broken clock is right twice a day, Prince Harry.”

Rusty and Cole stood there in awkward silence for a moment.

“You think she noticed her ash fell into her coffee?” Rusty asked.

“I don’t think she gives a shit,” Cole replied.

The duo stood and enjoyed their coffee for another minute before the loud, obnoxious ravings of the esteemed Mayor of Sitwell echoed through the station. “Cole Walker! Where the hell are you?!”

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May 20 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 53

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While Paul stewed in silence, Sharon was once again sitting in Cole’s office, behind his desk. Gordon stood off to the right, while Buford was seated across the desk.

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “My name is Agent Sharon Walker. This is my partner, Gordon Bishop. We’re with the FBI, investigating a high profile case in the area. Perhaps you’ve heard of it as the media has dubbed the perpetrator as, ‘The Toilet Killer.’”

“Helluva thing those toilet killings,” Buford said. “No one should ever have to go while they’re going, if you ask me. You think the Toilet Killer got my Momma?”

“It looks that way,” Sharon said. “And though I’m sure it doesn’t offer you much consolation, I am sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” Buford said. “Momma was a real ornery spitfire, but a sweet old gal. Hell, she kept her prices low just to keep all the local perverts happy.”

Sharon made an odd face. It was a half-smile, half-grimace. She had no clue how to respond to Buford’s statement, so she moved on.

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “Chief Walker has reported to me that when you arrived at your mother’s trailer, you shouted, and I quote, ‘I tried to warn her!’”

“I don’t remember that,” Buford said.

“What were you trying to warn your mother about?” Sharon asked.

“Again,” Buford said. “I don’t remember saying anything like that.”

“Chief Walker stated to me that when he pressed you on this, you said that you had tried to warn your mother about smoking while the pilot light of her stove was on,” Sharon said.

“That’s right,” Buford said.

“So you don’t remember saying you tried to warn her?” Sharon asked.

“Right,” Buford said.

“But you do remember saying that you tried to warn her about smoking?” Sharon asked.

Buford’s face turned red. “Oh Gee Whiz, now you’ve gone and messed with my brain, ma’am.”

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “I suppose what I’m trying to get at here is the issue of whether or not you were trying to warn your mother about something more disturbing than a cigarette…”

“What?” Buford asked. “Like one of those computerized vape-o-majigs? Momma didn’t like those, no ma’am. She tried one once and said it felt like she was giving a blowjob to the Tin Man from Wizard of Oz.”

Sharon smiled. “Your mother sounds like she was a real character.”

“Oh yes, ma’am,” Buford said.

“Were you two close?” Sharon asked.

“Sure,” Buford said.

“Did you approve of your mother’s profession?” Sharon asked.

“You mean stripping and prostituting?” Buford asked. “Wouldn’t say I’d go around bragging about how proud I was of Momma for doing that but hell, it paid the bills and it’s not like she had any kind of an education or skills to fall back on.”

“So the idea of your mother and all those men…”

Gordon cut his partner off. He stepped forward and towered over Buford. “If losers were fucking the woman that gave birth to me for pennies on the dollar, I know it would piss me off.”

“She may have had discount rates but I wouldn’t call it, ‘pennies,’” Buford said.

“Not the point,” Gordon said. “The point is that it must have made you mad, the idea of all those dirty, disgusting men, flopping around like a bunch of diseased, out of water flounders on top of your mother.”

Buford’s upper lip trembled. He gritted his teeth. He began to sweat. He took a deep breath and then calmly answered. “No sir. That was between them and Momma. I could care less.”

Sharon shuffled through a file folder. “Mr. Dufresne, when you arrived on the scene…”

“Ma’am,” Buford said. “You wouldn’t happen to be thinking something crazy like, oh, I dunno, that an angel like little old me had something to do with my own mother’s death, would you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Sharon said.

“Y’all seem to be implyin’ it,” Buford said. “I’m in mourning, here.”

“I know,” Sharon said.

“I have lost my dear sweat Momma,” Buford said. “That woman was my rock, my best friend, my whole reason for being.”

“Your whole reason for being?” Sharon asked.

“Shit,” Gordon said. “My condolences.”

“I’m sorry,” Buford said as he stood up. “I can’t think straight what with my Momma gone. I need to go home and lie down.”

Gordon stared Buford down, silently indicating the fact that leaving wasn’t a valid option.

“Y’all can’t keep me here,” Buford said. “I know my rights!”

“Mr. Dufresne,” Sharon said. “No one has accused you of anything.”

“I have a right to a phone call,” Buford said.

“This is all very unnecessary,” Sharon said. “We’re just trying to establish some facts that will help us find your mother’s killer.”

“I want my phone call,” Buford said. “I want to call my Daddy!”

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May 20 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 52

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Cole sat behind an empty desk on the main floor of the Sitwell Police Department. Rusty stood nearby, while Paul sat in a chair across from Cole. The cops had found an oversized pair of sweatpants and a Sitwell PD sweatshirt for the boy to wear in lieu of his wet clothes. However, the sweats were so big and the boy so small that Paul was swimming in them.

“Wrong place at the wrong time,” Cole said.

“Twice,” Rusty added.

“That’s the story you’re going with?” Cole asked.

“Story?” Paul asked.

Cole clicked the button on his pen and jotted a few notes down on a yellow legal pad. “For the official report. Gotta be thorough.”

“You said you were in the vicinity of the bathroom where Chad Becker was murdered?” Cole asked.

Paul sipped a complimentary soda pop Rusty had brought him in a prior attempt to feign good cop. “I don’t remember saying that.”

“You did,” Cole said. “Best not to change your story now.”

“Again with that word,” Paul said. “‘Story.’”

“Again,” Cole replied as he scribbled down some more notes. “For the official report.”

“I’m the frat’s Beermeister,” Paul said. “That’s the guy in charge of…”

Cole held up his right hand to form a “stop” motion. “I know what a Beermeister is. I went to Sitwell Community College.”

“OK,” Paul continued. “So, Chad got wasted. I helped Britney get him to a bathroom because he was puking and shitting all over the place. The sorority house was the closest place with an unoccupied bathroom. Britney and I got Chad there, got him on the bowl and I stepped outside. Then I heard a godawful noise…”

“What kind of noise?” Cole asked.

“A roar,” Paul said.

“A roar?” Cole asked.

“Like a lion,” Paul said. “I heard it at the trailer tonight too.”
Cole clicked the button on his pen a few times. “You on drugs, Paul?”

“No,” Paul said. “I never touch the stuff sir.”

Cole reviewed his notes. “What were you doing at Roxy’s place?”

“I consider myself to be a good citizen,” Paul said. “I like to help out senior citizens and need, so I was helping her redecorate and…”

“Cut the crap!” Rusty shouted.

“Fine!” Paul said. “I met her at Big Ray-Ray’s and she offered to rock my world for twenty bucks. It seemed like a great deal while I was buzzed but as I sobered up I began questioning my decision and was about to leave when…well, whatever happened, happened.”

Cole twirled his pen between two fingers. “I dunno. Just seems odd.”

“What does?” Paul said.

“That you were on the scene at two of the murders,” Cole said. “You ever been to Miami?”

“Once,” Paul said.

“To a Countess Cucamonga concert, perhaps?” Cole asked.

“No,” Paul said. “I prefer the musical stylings of Stank Daddy.”

“Boca Raton?” Cole asked.

“Good God, no,” Paul answered. “They don’t even let you in Boca Raton unless you’ve got an AARP card.”

Paul looked out the window. It was dawn and the sun was rising. “How long do I have to stay here?”

“Just a few more questions,” Cole said.

“I didn’t do it,” Paul blurted out.

“No one said you did,” Cole said.

“You all seem to think I did it,” Paul said.

“What makes you think that?” Cole said.

“Because you’re asking me questions as if I did it,” Paul said. “Plus that redheaded cop is giving me the crazy eyes.”

“Maybe my eyes aren’t crazy,” Rusty said. “Maybe my eyes are normal and you’re the one with the crazy eyes. Ever think of that, hotshot?”

“Can’t say that I have, Rupert Grint,” Paul replied.

Cole flipped through the pages of his legal pad. “So, answer me this, if you were…”

“I’m done,” Paul said.

“With what?” Cole asked.

“This,” Paul said. “All of this.”

“We’re just asking questions to a witness,” Cole said.

“Don’t you want to help catch the guy that killed your friend and your hooker?” Rusty asked.

“Sure,” Paul said. “But I’m not about to get a bunch of bogus charges pinned on me because you pigs are too lazy to get off your asses and find the killer.”

“Pigs?” Rusty said.

“If the oink fits,” Paul said.

“Paul,” Cole said. “You’re overreacting. Everything’s fine.”

“This isn’t fine,” Paul said. “All cops are corrupt. I know how you all operate. I streamed Serpico.”

“Just a few more questions,” Cole said.

“Nope,” Paul said. “Not another word without my lawyer.”

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May 19 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator Feedback

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Hey 3.5 readers.

Stats indicate a lot of you have been checking out the most recent Toilet Gator chapters lately.  Cool.  If you have five minutes, I hope you’ll drop me a comment and tell me what you like and don’t like about it.  I’d love to hear the criticism, positive or negative.

Also, if you’d like to read it from the beginning, you can check it out over on Wattpad.  

If you’re not a Wattpadder, no worries.  You can still read it on this fine site.  You’ll just have to click where it says “Toilet Gator” in the left hand corner of this post (by the title) and then do a lot of scrolling to the beginning.

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May 18 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 51

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Cole stood outside Sharon and Gordon’s hotel room at the Trembley Suites and put his hear up against the door. For a few minutes, he heard nothing until finally…

“ERGH!”

“Shit,” Cole mumbled.

“UNGH! ARRGH!”

Cole backed away from the door. The sounds from inside the room intensified. “UGGGHHH!”

“Should’ve known it,” Cole said. “Like a couple of wild baboons.”

Cole walked down an aisle, feeling sorry for himself until much to his surprise, Sharon rounded a corner carrying a bottle of wine in an ice bucket. Her hair was wet and Cole stared as beads of water trickled down her neck into her bosom. It had been a long time since Cole had seen his lady love wearing nothing but a bathrobe and slippers.

“Cole?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Hi.”

“Something wrong?” Cole said.

“There’s been another murder,” Cole said.

Sharon’s eyes widened. “Holy shit! The Toilet Killer struck again?”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he pointed at the room. “Hey, if you’re out here then what was…”

Sharon ignored the question and hustled towards her room. “Come on.”

“Can’t I just tell you out here?” Cole asked.

“Don’t be silly,” Sharon said. “Gordon will want to know too.”

Sharon popped a key card into the handle reader and the door unlocked. Cole followed Sharon into the room, nervous as to what he might find.

Sure enough, Cole quickly discovered he had good reason to be fearful. There on the ground was the most muscular, ripped, cut man but he had ever seen, pumping up and down.

“ERGH!” Gordon shouted. “ONE THOUSAND ONE….ONE THOUSAND TWO!”

“Gordo!” Sharon said. “Stop doing pushups. Cole has news.”

Gordon sprang to his feet, He grabbed a towel from the bathroom and patted himself down, wiping off his sweaty body. The giant looked at Cole. “Go on.”

It wasn’t that Cole wanted to stare at the massive python dangling between Gordon’s legs, but he couldn’t help it. A) it was like staring at a freak traffic accident and B) Cole became instantly riddled with sadness that it was much, much, much bigger than his or any other average human male’s.

“Could you?” Cole asked.

“What?” Gordon asked as he wiped the sweat from his big bald head. The other one. The one he thought with.

Cole pointed a finger downward.

“Oh,” Gordon said as he wrapped the towel around his waist. “What, you never saw one before?”

Cole cleared his throat. “I try not to make a habit of it.”

“Cole,” Sharon said. “What’s going on?”

Cole tried to blurt out some words but he was taken aback by Gordon’s amazing physique. The man was sporting perfect six-pack abs and a firm set of pecs.

“Jesus,” Cole said.

“Cole?” Sharon asked. “What happened?”

Cole snapped out of it. “Oh…right. Another murder. Roxy. An old stripper. Her real name’s Adelaide Hotchkiss.”

“A stripper?” Sharon asked.

“A stripper,” Gordon said. “An old teacher, a college student, a superstar. There’s no rhyme or reason to this killer’s pattern.”

“We’ve got two suspects at the station,” Cole said. “One’s some kid that was stuck in the trailer. You should have seen it the whole thing was knocked over but anyway…long story. He was babbling on and on about he he had also been on the scene of the Becker murder.”

“Holy shit,” Sharon said.

“Maybe some psycho that likes to stick around too long, admiring his handiwork,” Gordon said.

“Maybe,” Cole replied as he kept his eyes on Sharon, avoiding Gordon’s chiseled frame altogether. “But we also have Roxy’s son at the station. He showed up at his mother’s trailer, saying something about how he ‘tried to warn her.’”
“Warn her about what?” Sharon asked.

“He wouldn’t budge on that,” Cole said. “Thing is though, neither one of them knows they’re suspects yet. We’ve brought them both in on the idea that we’re just really concerned about their well-being but as soon as they wise up, the clock will start ticking on how long we’ll be able to hold them.”

“We’d better hustle,” Sharon said.

“Oh,” Cole said. “And about the victim’s son. He’s Buford Dufresne. The Mayor’s boy.”

“Damn it,” Sharon said. “Now that really complicates things.”

“You know it,” Cole said. “As soon as that horse’s ass catches wind we’ve got his boy…”

“He’ll waltz into the station with every crooked lawyer his used car money can buy,” Sharon said.

“Bingo,” Cole said.

Sharon set her bucket of ice and wine bottle down on a coffee table. “This will have to wait.”

She turned to Gordon. “Put on some pants, studmuffin. We’ve got worked to do.”

Sharon turned to Cole. “Thank you for coming all this way to tell us, Cole. You could have just called.”

“Yeah,” Cole said as he walked toward the door. “Well, you know me.”

“I do,” Sharon said.

Cole walked outside and headed for his cruiser. “Studmuffin? What the…”

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May 18 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 50

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Captain Roundtree counted down while his men pointed a firehose at Paul.

“One…two…three!”

Paul was instantly knocked down by the sheer force of the water blast. The men continued to spray the nerd on the ground until his body was no longer covered with the late Roxy’s blood and fecal matter.

“Not again,” Paul mumbled. “Not…not again…not…not again.”

“What’s he saying?” Rusty asked.

Cole helped the kid up to his feet. Paul wrapped his arms around Cole and held on tightly. “This can’t be happening again!”

The chief pushed the young man back and grabbed him by the arms. “What can’t be happening again, son?”

“This!” Paul said. “All of this! This can’t be happening to me again!”

“What’s happening to you?” Cole asked.

“I was outside the bathroom,” Paul said. “Where Chad was…I don’t know…I heard a roar…and I was here and I heard a roar…it’s all happening again!”

Cole and Rusty traded confused looks.

“You were a witness to Chad Becker’s murder?” Cole asked.

“Not directly,” Paul said. “I only looked into the bathroom after it all happened.”

“And you didn’t tell anyone?” Cole asked.

“I didn’t want to get in any trouble!” Paul said.

A few of Sitwell’s finest milled around, securing the perimeter with yellow caution tape. Burt walked over and threw a blanket around Paul.

“Burt,” Cole said. “Can you take this kid back to the station?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Burt said.

Rusty and Cole followed as Burt guided the youngster into the back of a police cruiser. Once the door was slammed shut, Cole had another request for Burt. “Whatever you do, don’t let him leave.”

“This guy’s that important?” Burt asked. “Looks like a creepy little pervert to me.”

“Just call it a hunch,” Cole said.

Burt shrugged his shoulders. “You’re the boss.”

As Burt pulled away, Cole and Rusty held a meeting of the minds.

“That kid was at both murder scenes,” Rusty said. “You don’t think?”

“I do think,” Cole said.

“Maybe he was just really unlucky,” Rusty said.

“No one’s that unlucky,” Cole said. “Except for me.”

A pickup truck pulled up to the scene. Buford jumped out of the driver’s seat, took one look at the trailer and dropped to his knees. He screamed his balled his eyes out. “Momma! Noooo!”

Buford stood up and ran for the trailer. Cole and Rusty grabbed him, one man on each arm, holding him back.

“There’s no way for you to get in there,” Cole said.

“And you don’t want to see what’s in there,” Rusty added.

“I tried to warn her!” Buford cried. “Momma! Why didn’t you listen to me?! Why?”

“Come again?” Cole asked.

Rusty sniffed and took a deep breath. Seeing that he’d calmed down, the officers let Buford go.

“I tried to warn…” Buford said.

“About?” Cole asked.

Buford came to his senses and dried his eyes with a dirty, booger infested napkin he pulled out of his pocket.

“About smoking,” Buford said. “I told her, ‘Momma, one of these days you’re gonna fall asleep with a cigarette in your mouth and the pilot light on your stove on and blow yourself to Kingdom Come!”

“That’s not what happened,” Cole said.

Buford sniffed. “It isn’t?”

“No,” Cole said.

Rusty rested his hands on his hips. “You always visit your Momma this late, Buford?”

“Maybe,” Buford said. “What, there a law against a being a good son?”

Cole and Rusty traded yet another series of quizzical glances.

“Calm on, fella,” Rusty said as he put his arm around Buford. “Let’s get you back to the police station. Get you a nice cup of coffee.”

“I can drive,” Buford said.

Rusty started walking toward his police cruiser, coaxing Buford to come with him. Cole followed.

“In your condition?” Rusty asked. “Now what kind of an officer of the law would I be if I were to allow that?”

“I don’t really want to go to the police station,” Buford said.

“I know,” Rusty said as he opened the back door to his cruiser. “We hate to put you through this what with you just losing your Momma and all but you know how it is when someone passes on. There’s all sorts of paperwork involved.”

“Paperwork?” Buford asked as he sat down in the back of the cruiser.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” Rusty said. “We’ll walk you through it. Easy peasy.

Rusty slammed the car door and pulled Cole aside.

“Holy shit on a monkey stick!” Rusty exclaimed.

“I know,” Cole said. “Two suspects at once.”

“We’re on our way to becoming superstars!” Rusty said. “Gonna have our photos in the paper and everything.”

“You really need to get your priorities straight,” Cole said.

“And you need to get your ass on over to Sharon’s hotel and tell her the good news,” Rusty said.

“What?” Cole asked. “That’s stupid. I’ll just call her.”

“Cole,” Rusty said. “Don’t you want to know if that giant is railing your ex-wife’s vagina?”

Cole looked away. “Please. I’m over it.”

“The vagina that you once thought would never be touched by a penis other than yours?” Rusty asked.

“Stop being stupid,” Cole said. “This case is too important…”

“You’ll never have another opportunity like this again,” Rusty said. “Go on over to her hotel. Put your ear up to the door. If they’re fornicating like a couple of wild baboons in heat in there then you know there’s no hope of you two ever getting back together but if they aren’t…”

“Rusty,” Cole said. “I do not want to get back together with her.”

“Nor should you after what she did to you,” Rusty said. “And I will call you a pussy forever if you do get back together with her but damn it, I can see the way you look at her. It’s the way a fat man looks at a hot fudge sundae. The heart wants what it wants. There’s no logic to it.”

Cole sighed. “I guess it couldn’t hurt to tell her about all this in person.”

“There you go,” Rusty said.

Rusty got into the driver’s seat. Cole started to walk away, then turned around, walked back and tapped on Rusty’s window.

“What?” Rusty asked as he rolled his window down.

“What if they ARE fornicating like a couple of wild baboons in heat?” Cole asked.

Rusty flipped on his flashing lights and siren. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

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May 18 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 49

presentation01
Like a juicy worm on a hook, Rusty dangled from a line that had been passed through the metal hole in the top of the flipped over trailer. The redhead had been outfitted with a harness that was secured tightly around his crotch and waist and wore a miner’s helmet complete with a bright, shining flashlight secured to it.

“Hold me tight, boys,” Rusty shouted up to Cole and the firemen, who were busy holding the line. “I don’t want to fall into any of this…”

Rusty studied the surroundings. The chairs, the couch, all the furniture, all of Roxy’s belongings were scattered all over. It was as if some dark force grabbed hold of the giant tin can and given it a great big shake. Worse, the walls were soaked with blood and…

“Shit,” Rusty said as he turned to Paul. “Hey kid, when this all happened, was Roxy on the pot?”

“Huh?” Paul asked.

“Son,” Rusty said. “I know you’ve had one helluva night but I’m hanging in mid-air from a rig that’s given me a weapons grade wedgie so pay attention. Was Roxy taking a shit?”

“Yeah,” Paul said. The young man was in such a state of confusion that he was having a hard time figuring out what was going on all around him.

Rusty shined his helmet light downward to find hundreds of smashed up pieces of…

“Porcelain,” Rusty said. “Cole!”

“Yeah?” Cole asked.

“We’ve got another one!” Rusty said.

“Another what?” Cole asked.

“Another toilet murder!” Rusty shouted.

Cole groaned. “You’re shitting me.”

“I shit you not!” Rusty said. “There’s shit everywhere! Roxy must have been having a big time blow out when the killer…”

Rusty caught himself mid-sentence. He looked around frantically. “Kid, is the killer still here?”

Paul pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?!” Rusty asked. “How could you not know?”

“I don’t know!” Paul repeated. “One second everything was fine. The next, the whole place has been knocked over!”

Rusty looked up at the ceiling, which had previously served as the floor. In the part of the trailer that once served as Roxy’s bathroom, the toilet was missing.

“Get your ass over here, boy!” Rusty cried.

Paul obliged his rescuer.

“Lower me down a few feet more!” Rusty shouted.

Rusty’s feet hit the floor. He tied a rope around Paul’s waist, secured it to a metal ring on his harness with a hook, then tugged on the line.

“Pull us up!” Rusty said.

Cole and the firemen heaved and heaved until Rusty and Paul were safely on top of the trailer.

“Is he down there?” Cole asked as he shined a light into the square hole.

“No,” Rusty said. “He’s gone.”

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May 18 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 48 (Full)

presentation01

Cole and Rusty stood on top of of Roxy’s trailer and watched as Capt. Rick Roundtree of the Sitwell Fire Department cut into the steel with an ultra-sharp circular saw. Sparks flew everywhere and the Captain had to take periodic breaks every time the blade got too hot.

The Captain flipped open his soldering mask. “What the hell happen here? Buncha drunk kids tip this thing over?”

“Beats me,” Cole replied. “Manager just called saying he heard a big fuss and when he came out, Old Roxy’s place was like this.”

“Weird,” the Captain said as he flipped his mask down. “Because it’s not like its hurricane season so I doubt the damn thing didn’t just blow over.”

Captain Roundtree continued to cut.

Rusty nudged Cole in the ribs. “Hey Cole. Maybe this trailer was a-rockin’ when someone came a-knockin.’”

Cole stood there in silence.

“Get it?” Rusty asked.

Cole did not respond.

“Because, you know, Roxy’s been known to dabble in the world’s oldest profession,” Rusty said.

Still, no response from Cole.

“Roxy’s a hooker!” Rusty said. “You get it?”

“Oh yeah,” Cole said. “I got it but first, if you have to explain it, then it’s not funny and second, there’s a woman’s life at stake here. Does everything have to be a joke with you?”

“I wouldn’t say, ‘everything,’” Rusty said. “But I like to think if the situation were reversed and I was trapped in a knocked over trailer I wouldn’t mind if someone had a few laughs at my expense.”

“Grow up,” Cole said.

“People gotta laugh, Cole,” Rusty said. “People gotta find happiness in this twisted world wherever they can find it.”

The Captain switched off his saw and set it aside. He and a few other firemen then removed a large, square section of steel. Captain Roundtree took a flashlight off of his belt and shined it down into the darkness of the turned over trailer.

“Hello!” Captain Roundtree. “Fire department! Anyone down there?”

A few seconds past before a very weak sounding Paul answered. “Hello?”

The Captain searched around the trailer with his light until he landed the beam on Paul’s face. Paul was slathered with a thick coat of blood, water, and a brown substance which could have only been…

“Shit!” the Captain said as he looked up at Cole. “You gotta see this.”

Cole joined the Captain. He took out his flashlight, squatted down over the square hole and peered down at Paul. “You alright?”

“Are we talking physically or emotionally?” Paul asked.

“Physical’s my main concern at the moment,” Cole answered as he leaned down and shoved his hand into the square hole. “Take my hand, son.”

Paul reached for Cole’s hand but it was no use. He stood up on his tippy toes. He tried jumping for it. The kid was just too short.

“Damn it,” Cole said. “Someone will have to go down there.”

Cole waited for someone to step up, but all the firemen looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t everyone volunteer at once now,” Cole said.

All the firemen began whistling jaunty tunes, pretending they couldn’t hear the police chief.

“Fine,” Cole said. “I’ll do it myself.”

“No,” Rusty said. “I’ll do it.”

Cole was surprised. “You will?”

“Damn right I will,” Rusty said. “Cole, I never told you this but every once in awhile, old Chief Haskell and I get together and have a few beers and get down on ourselves for not following you into Wade Randolph’s shack that night. Hell, I hate to play the ‘woulda, shoulda, coulda’ game but it’s been hard for the old chief and I to not think about the possibility that maybe, just maybe, had all three of us worked together, we could have taken down that vicious dog no sweat.”

“I have no doubt that all three of could shot that dog dead instantly,” Cole said.

Rusty stared off at the moon, lost in thought. “I know whenever I think about that day, I say to myself, ‘If I’d only manned up, would Cole still have his leg?”

“Yes,” Cole said. “I most certainly would.”

“Would Cole’s wife never have run out on him?” Rusty asked.

“She would not have,” Cole replied.

“Would Cole be a happier man today?”

“A thousand times happier,” Cole said. “Without question.”

Rusty snapped out of his philosophical trance and looked down the hole. “I’m not gonna fail you twice, buddy.”

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May 18 2017
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Toilet Gator

Toilet Gator – Chapter 48

presentation01
Cole and Rusty stood on top of of Roxy’s trailer and watched as Capt. Rick Roundtree of the Sitwell Fire Department cut into the steel with an ultra-sharp circular saw. Sparks flew everywhere and the Captain had to take periodic breaks every time the blade got too hot.

The Captain flipped open his soldering mask. “What the hell happen here? Buncha drunk kids tip this thing over?”

“Beats me,” Cole replied. “Manager just called saying he heard a big fuss and when he came out, Old Roxy’s place was like this.”

“Weird,” the Captain said as he flipped his mask down. “Because it’s not like its hurricane season so I doubt the damn thing didn’t just blow over.”

Captain Roundtree continued to cut.

Rusty nudged Cole in the ribs. “Hey Cole. Maybe this trailer was a-rockin’ when someone came a-knockin.’”

Cole stood there in silence.

“Get it?” Rusty asked.

Cole did not respond.

“Because, you know, Roxy’s been known to dabble in the world’s oldest profession,” Rusty said.

Still, no response from Cole.

“Roxy’s a hooker!” Rusty said. “You get it?”

“Oh yeah,” Cole said. “I got it but first, if you have to explain it, then it’s not funny and second, there’s a woman’s life at stake here. Does everything have to be a joke with you?”

“I wouldn’t say, ‘everything,’” Rusty said. “But I like to think if the situation were reversed and I was trapped in a knocked over trailer I wouldn’t mind if someone had a few laughs at my expense.”

“Grow up,” Cole said.

“People gotta laugh, Cole,” Rusty said. “People gotta find happiness in this twisted world wherever they can find it.”

The Captain switched off his saw and set it aside. He and a few other firemen then removed a large, square section of steel. Captain Roundtree took a flashlight off of his belt and shined it down into the darkness of the turned over trailer.

“Hello!” Captain Roundtree. “Fire department! Anyone down there?”

A few seconds past before a very weak sounding Paul answered. “Hello?”

The Captain searched around the trailer with his light until he landed the beam on Paul’s face. Paul was slathered with a thick coat of blood, water, and a brown substance which could have only been…

“Shit!” the Captain said as he looked up at Cole. “You gotta see this.”

Cole joined the Captain. He took out his flashlight, squatted down over the square hole and peered down at Paul. “You alright?”

“Are we talking physically or emotionally?” Paul asked.

“Physical’s my main concern at the moment,” Cole answered as he leaned down and shoved his hand into the square hole. “Take my hand, son.”

Paul reached for Cole’s hand but it was no use. He stood up on his tippy toes. He tried jumping for it. The kid was just too short.

“Damn it,” Cole said. “Someone will have to go down there.”

Cole waited for someone to step up, but all the firemen looked away, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t everyone volunteer at once now,” Cole said.

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