Sam reminded herself that criminals lied all the time. During some of the previous interviews, she and Jeffery had listened to bizarre tales that murderers claimed as truth. Stories of how they stalked and killed their victims. They’d describe details as though they were proud craftsmen revealing trade secrets.
Some even shared horrible rituals of torture that they endured as children, as if to explain or excuse their compulsions. It was almost impossible to determine what was fact and what was fiction. They were lifers with little hope of parole, so they had nothing to lose by sharing.
But Otis P. Dodd? Sam couldn’t figure him out. What reason did he have to confess? He wasn’t asking for an attorney to be present. He didn’t seem concerned that this new revelation might cut some time off his sentence. About the only thing Sam could think that the man had to gain was attention. And he was certainly getting that.
Jeffery leaned in and stayed uncharacteristically quiet, more patient than Sam had ever seen him. He was allowing Otis P. to take his time and Otis P. was doing just that, enjoying every second.
“He told me she asked him for a ride. Said she was real pretty. Blond hair, blue eyes. Itty-bitty thing. But not a girl. He made sure I knew that. He doesn’t do little girls. Or little boys. No challenge in that.” He sat back and grinned, pleased to have an audience. “That’s what he said anyways.”
He started to cross his arms over his chest before he realized his wrist was shackled to the floor. It didn’t deter him. “Her car broke down. She was stranded at one of those rest areas off the interstate. He took her to a place in the woods. Bashed her head in. But not so that she was dead. Just part dead. So when he cut her open she’d still be warm.”
He paused with that silly grin on his face, like a little boy waiting to see their reaction, wondering if he’d be punished or praised.
“That’s what he said. He liked it when the blood was still warm on his hands. Then he pulled her guts out just to see what they looked like. What they felt like.”
When neither of them flinched, he continued. “He took everything off her so nobody’d know who she is. Everything except her orange socks. He wanted her to keep those for some reason. I don’t remember if he told me why. Then he stuffed her in a culvert.”
Otis P. looked away for the first time, up at the ceiling as if trying to think if he had forgotten something.
“At first I thought, Well, this guy is full of it, you know. I could tell he wasn’t a drinker and we were doing shots. But my daddy wasn’t a drinker and some of his biggest truth-telling came out after a shot of whiskey.”
He shifted in his chair and looked from Jeffery to Sam and back at Jeffery. He was finished. And now he did look as though he was waiting for praise.
“What did he look like?” Jeffery asked.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Otis P. shrugged and shook his head. His tongue darted out to lick his lips again and Sam realized it was a nervous habit, not meant to be salacious, as she had thought earlier. “He looked like a pretty ordinary fella to me.”
And that was all he was going to tell them. This wasn’t about the other guy. This was about Otis P. getting attention. He wasn’t going to share his time in the spotlight, not even with the murderer whose tale he was telling.
“I can show you where she is. He told me.”
“What makes you think she’s still in the same place?”
“Oh, she’s still there.”
“You’ve been in here, what? Almost a year?”
A nod. The tongue did a quick poke out of the corner of his mouth and slipped back inside.
“What makes you think the body’s still where he said he dumped it?”
“Oh, she’s still there. Ain’t nobody found her.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“I’ve been watching.” Another shrug of his shoulder. “I know she’s still there. It’d be somethin’, wouldn’t it? Have a camera right there?” He waited to make sure Jeffery knew what he was talking about before he added, “You let me know. I’ll take you there.”
Then he was finished. He had told them all he was prepared to say.
It was dark outside when they made their way back to the car. Both of them had been quiet while they went through the halls and waited for the doors to unlock.
Now out in the open, walking side by side, with no one to eavesdrop, Sam asked, “What do you think?”
“He just wants a free road trip.”