Chapter IV: Gil Sanderson

Tony arrived home after his shift to a dark house and his wife in bed. Which told him that yes, Sheila was still mad he chose to go into work every night instead of hiding out at home. He fixed himself a quick bite to eat while mulling over the events of the night.

As he reviewed what he knew, he felt pretty certain Larry or Eddy would be the next victim. Maybe both. While neither one seemed too drunk when they left the bar he couldn’t figure out why they would leave together. Why would a guy like Larry choose to hang out with Eddy – Eddy? That made no sense. No one in town willingly hung out with Eddy.

That led him to his next big question. Why didn’t he think either one was the killer? He couldn’t clearly explain his reasoning. It was more of a gut feeling. From the little he observed at the bar, Larry didn’t seem like the type to lift a finger to do extra work and killing someone would probably take some effort. And while Eddy was annoying and bragged about his military days, Tony doubted he would kill someone. If anything, anyone who spent time in the bar listening to Eddy prattle on probably wouldn’t think twice about killing him just to shut him up. He admitted to himself that if he himself were the killer type he’d opt to off Larry though. That man was hiding something. But it should be reiterated that Tony didn’t actually wish anyone any harm. But if another murder or two was going to occur, it would be helpful, over all, if the victim looked more like Larry rather than someone else that looked like Tony. Maybe then it would become enough of a priority to make it all stop.

Tony climbed into bed and Sheila stirred a little. “Glad to see you made it home,” she murmured without opening her eyes.

“Good news,” he said. “We might be getting an actual police case opened after tonight.”

“Hmmm,” she mumbled.

He could tell this was a conversation that would have to wait until morning. Until then, he was alone with his thoughts. He again went over the same questions until he drifted off to sleep.

When he woke the next day, Sheila was in the kitchen.

“Did you say something about the case?” she asked when he walked in.

She amazed him. Even mostly asleep she had heard enough to follow up.

The newspaper was opened on the kitchen table and she leaned over it.

“Any news in the paper?” he asked and tried to read over her shoulder.

She closed it. “No killings,” she said. “If that’s what you mean.”

Of course not! The paper was printed last night. A killing would have happened after after the bar closed. Larry and Eddy didn’t leave until 2:00 A.M. Too late to get the story in the day’s edition. He reached over to the counter and flipped the radio on. He listened to the radio for any news updates all morning and past noon but did not hear the news he expected to hear.

Finally, after a late lunch, he turned it off.

Sheila looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

All he could do was shrug his shoulders in response. “Maybe they haven’t found the bodies yet?” he offered the only plausible explanation he could think of.

“Bodies?” she asked. “You still think there will be more than one this time?”

He had shared with her almost all of his thoughts from the night before. She had listened somewhat skeptically but that’s how she always listened to his theories he picked up at the bar.

“Or maybe just one of them,” he said even though he still felt his first assessment was more accurate.

Sheila rolled her eyes and walked out of the kitchen.

He gathered his things together and headed to the bar. Since he didn’t make a deposit last night, he needed to get there early and do that before the bar opened. It wouldn’t hurt to recount the till again. Surely, he miscounted last night because Larry and Eddy had him all out of sorts. He really didn’t want to have to question Gil about the missing money.

He drove to the bar and was surprised to see Gil there. Aside from the money, Gil had never been too much of a hands-on owner. He trusted Tony to take care of business while he sat in the office every night. Away from the crowds and trouble makers. In his little thin-walled office of solitude. When the bar closed each night, Tony would knock on the office door. He’d give Gil the till to put in the safe and tell him how much he had counted. Then he’d give Gil the receipts. While Tony cleaned the bar for the night, Gil would go over the receipts and reconcile the books. By the time Tony was ready to head home for the night, Gil would give Tony the money to drop off at the bank’s night deposit.

But ever since the serial killer started claiming victims, Gil hardly came to the bar. He was short and husky but his aura exuded toughness and Tony wouldn’t have thought him a coward. It was possible he was catering to his wife by not coming into the bar. That explanation didn’t make sense to Tony either. Gil Sanderson was not one to take direction from his wife. But the whole town was operating in scared mode so maybe it was possible?

Rumor around the town was Gil had moved to Chicago shortly after what would have been his high school graduation, if he had, in fact, finished high school. He lived in the city for twenty years and picked up some big city habits. Like running with the mob. According to the gossip, he may have been chased out of the city because he crossed the wrong member of his social circle. Something he neither confirmed or denied really. He moved back to town with his wife he married while in the city. She never liked it here because she never fit in with the other wives. And she never tried to. The rumor mill claimed the couple were in the Witness Relocation Program and placed here to hide out. But the naysayers said the government wouldn’t have moved Gil back to his hometown with his same name. That was usually overlooked because logic isn’t something small town gossip adheres to.

What is known is that when Gil moved back he took over ownership of the bar. Again, the town gossipers were divided on how that happened. Some said he muscled his uncle out. Others said he won it in a poker game. Only a few naive souls thought he purchased it by legal means. Gil and the word ‘legal’ never were heard in the same conversation.

Tony was always a little wary of Gil. He didn’t see Gil as two-faced or fake at all. He saw him as a 100% unscrupulous soul. If the murders hadn’t happened to bar patrons and hurt Gil’s business, Tony would have suspected Gil as killer right off the bat. But why would he kill his own customers? Gil loved making money too much to be the killer.

Although Tony wouldn’t back down from an interaction with Gil, he preferred not to have any with him at all. Especially before he could figure out the $200 discrepancy in the till.

Tony opened the front door and walked back to the office. He knocked and since it wasn’t closed tight the door opened a bit.

Gil jumped. “Tony,” he barked. “What are you doing here so early?” he had the phone in his left hand and dropped it slightly to his chest. He hunched over his desk a little. A lit cigar rested in an ashtray on his desk.

“I came to make a deposit before I open the bar,” Tony said flatly.

“I thought you did that at night?” Gil grumbled.

“Normally,” Tony said feeling a bit irritated but fought to keep himself in check.

Gil thought for a moment and then realized the answer to his own question. He nodded his head toward the safe. “Go to it then,” he grumbled.

Tony could feel Gil’s eyes on him as he took out the bag of money. He dropped the bag on the desk. “You want to count it?”

Gil sucked on his teeth and gingerly moved his right hand under the desk. Tony noticed the hand looked a little purple and swollen but pretended not to see it. “Ah, no,” Gil replied. “I trust you.”

Tony was pretty sure that was the first time Gil ever uttered those words to him.

“But…” he wanted to explain about the $200.

“I’m on the phone,” Gil said curtly.

Tony nodded and grabbed the bag off the desk. He walked out of the office and slowly toward the front door. Gil’s voice was loud enough that Tony would have been able to hear his side of the conversation and he wanted to overhear what Gil was talking about. But the office remained silent until Tony opened the front door. Once he was outside, he could hear Gil’s muffled voice resume his phone call.

When he got to the bank, Tony realized he had not recounted the money like he was going to. He took it out of the bag and quickly counted. Still $200 short. He went ahead and deposited the money and would just have to tell Gil about it when he got back to the bar. Gil was not the kind of man Tony wanted to give any appearance of crossing. He learned early on to be upfront and honest in all of his dealings with his boss.

However, by the time he arrived back at the bar, Gil’s car was gone. So, he wrote a note and stuck it in the safe. Then he opened the bar as usual. The other staff arrived but since the killings, it was a small crew. They all ended their shift right before dark. Only Tony remained until closing time.

Opposite of pre-serial killer time, the afternoon was busier time and the crowd thinned out the later it got. The usual drifters came in by groups. For safety’s sake. No way the serial killer would kill more than one of them at a time. Which only demonstrated their lack of understanding of what a serial killer actually does.

Around 9:00pm, Tony received his second surprise of the day. In walked Larry and Eddy. Together. Alive. Although both looked like they had spent some time in a boxing ring. Larry sported a black left eye. Eddy limped a little and held his right arm. Tony kept his face in his normal impassive expression even though he certainly noticed all this.

So did everyone else in the bar. They stopped their chatter. “Hey everyone,” Larry drawled, “another round on me.”.

Everyone in the bar cheered again.

Tony shrugged and started pouring the drinks.

“Hello old man,” Larry said as he sat on a stool. “We meet again.” His eyes narrowed and watched Tony intently.

What was that tone? Was that a hint of surprise? Was he as surprised as Tony that he was still here?

Tony could feel Larry’s stare but he didn’t return the look. He focused on pouring drinks and wiping the bar off.

“I see you favor your left hand. Are you left handed?” Larry asked after several minutes.

Tony nodded.

“Or is something wrong with your right hand?” Larry’s voice a little accusatory.

Eddy looked from Larry to Tony. “Tony, will you settle a bet we have? Will you show him your right hand, please?”

Tony looked at both of them. He set the glass down he had just poured. For a moment, no one moved. Then Tony held up both of his hands and showed with his palms forward and then flipped them so they could see the backs of his hands. He wiggled his fingers even and flipped them a couple of times. When he finished he grabbed another glass and poured a drink.

“I told you,” Eddy said. He lowered his voice but Tony could hear. “I told you it wasn’t him.”

Tony paused and looked at both of them. He started to fill in the blanks with a quick succession of questions.

1) Were they attacked by the killer last night? Is that how they both got so banged up?

2) How is it possible that the two of them, pretty boy Larry and Eddy – Eddy, escaped the killer?

3) If they were attacked then they were intended victims because the killer would have known who he was attacking he wouldn’t need to see Tony’s uninjured hands for proof. This confirmed to Tony that he had been right about his gut feeling. Larry was no killer. Where was Sheila? She needed to know this.

4) For his part, Larry seemed certain Tony was going to have injuries. Did that mean Larry thought Tony was the killer?

5) Who exactly is this feathered-hair Larry Dowd and is why is he here looking for the serial killer? And what is his connection with Eddy – Eddy?

And finally, the most sickening question came to Tony’s mind.

6) Why was Gil nursing his right hand?

Chapter V: Tyee and Lawrence and Eddy and Gil coming August 30

Chapter III: Eddy Edwards