Free Markers (Joshua Stokes Mysteries Book 3) by Lila Beckham

before anyone else reached the scene, he decided to drive down to where he had parked Johnny and make sure he had not left any incriminating evidence behind. After checking thoroughly, he radioed the station and told them that he had decided to drive further down the pig-trail and that he had found a white male in his mid-thirties dead from an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound.
    The dispatcher told him there was a report of a missing child from Mount Vernon - located in the next county - a two-year-old female had been missing for five days. Joshua told them to make sure the discovery was kept quiet. The parents of the child did not need to see their baby the way he had found her… it would be even more devastating than knowing she was dead.
    He had an old blanket he kept in his patrol car for covering victims of traffic accidents and such as that to keep folks from gawking at them and he wanted to cover the child, but it was against protocol in cases such as hers. His doing so could contaminate the scene. He knew the poor child would have to lie just as she was, until after they photographed the scene and collected any evidence. He did not want to have to look upon her tiny body again and truly hated that anyone else would. A good decent person, no matter how young or old, should be allowed to keep their dignity in death…

Eleven
     

Simple Man
     
    The sound of Hook’s old truck brought Joshua into the present. He sighed heavily. He was not really in the mood for company; he would rather be left alone to wallow in his misery and think things through. He reached for the bottle and refilled his empty glass. His legs were aching from lack of circulation so he readjusted his position and then propped his feet back onto the railing.
    “Damn! Is that some of that good stuff I smell,” James asked as he walked up onto the porch and took a seat in the swing. James could tell just by looking at him that Joshua was in bad shape. He was deep into himself and that was not good at all, in James’ book. “You don’t need to be smoking and drinking alone, Hoss,” James said as he reached for the pouch and rolling papers.
    “There’s some sick motherfuckers in this world,” Joshua spoke low and deliberate.
    “Always has been, always will be,” Hook replied matter-of-fact, not an ounce of smartass in his tone. He laid the pouch and papers aside, got up and walked into the kitchen. Joshua heard the radio turn on and the sound of Led Zeppelin’s ‘Ramble On’ flowed out to him. He also heard James talking, but could not hear what he said. When James came out, he had another bottle of whiskey and a glass. This time he sat down in the other rocker, poured himself a glass of whiskey, propped his feet on the railing and then proceeded to finish rolling a joint.
    “I couldn’t hear what you said when you was inside,” Joshua mumbled.
    “That’s because I wouldn’t talking to you,” James said frankly. “I called Ilene and told her not to wait up. I could tell you needed babysittin’- you must be wound tighter than dicks hatband to be marijaning and drinking. Friends aught not let friends unwind alone,” James chuckled, leaned back, adjusted his butt in the seat, then propped his feet back on the railing.
    “It ain’t something I want to talk about.”
    “I haven’t asked, have I, Hoss?”
    “Nah.”
    “That’s right, and I won’t, but if you need to talk, I’m here,” James lit the joint and inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in until he started coughing and had to release it. “That’s some good shit,” he said through coughs, then handed the joint to Joshua. Joshua took a toke and held it in a minute before he spoke again.
    “Taking care of this little young’un has got me to thinking about stuff I’ve done. And I’ve done some bad shit in my life, Hook, but I haven’t ever harmed a child or an undeserving person.”
    “I know you ain’t, Hoss. Whatever you done, needed doing. You and me, we are