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By Death Do You Part

Do Unto Others

By Cleve Taylor Published 2 years ago 5 min read
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By Death Do You Part
Photo by Jp Valery on Unsplash

By Death do You Part

by Cleve Taylor

Garrett lowered his binoculars. He had been watching the house perched on the bank of the Severn River in Maryland for three days, and he had seen enough. Lizbeth, his best friend's daughter, was being hit and slapped around by her husband. It really angered him to see his godchild cower in front of her husband as he screamed at her and punched her.

Earlier in the week he had sat in the bar in Annapolis with his friend Steve and listened as he bemoaned his fears that his daughter, Lizbeth, was in trouble. He spoke of how the last time he had seen her she had seemed afraid that Carter, her husband, would find out that she had lunch with her father. She wore a long sleeved high collared shirt which he was sure hid bruises under heavy makeup on her neck and probably her arms. She seemed skittish, not at all the poised self confident young woman he had raised.

He said he had questioned her about her marriage, telling her that it seemed strange that she always found reasons to cancel lunches with him. It was only when he said he was coming to her house, invited or not, that she agreed to have lunch with him.

But it was like an executioner having lunch with a convicted felon on death row. Nothing seemed normal in their conversation, even when her mother, long deceased, came up in conversation. She kept looking at her watch as if late for an appointment, wolfed down about half her ham and cheese omelet, and abruptly announced that she had to go. The normal hug and kiss on the cheek never crossed her mind.

"I'm at wits end. It's obvious that she won't file charges against him. Other than getting a gun and killing the bastard, I don't know what to do."

"Well, that certainly isn't the answer. In a worse case scenario Lizbeth could end up an orphan. Why don't you give it a couple of weeks to see if things get better, and in the meantime I'll talk to a guy I know in New Orleans who is an expert on abusive relationships. See if he's got any ideas."

Although dubious, Steve agreed that they would revisit the problem over lunch in two weeks time.

Because of national security rules, Steve did not know that the years Garrett spent in the military were not in a finance office. Instead he had been assigned to an alphabet agency and taught to be an undercover agent and assassin. He was free lance now, and used the title of Management Consultant as a cover that rationalized the travel associated with his black hat activities. He had a couple of weeks before needing to attend to a matter in Texas, and he could think of no better way to spend that time than taking care of Lizbeth's problem.

For the past two nights Garrett watched as Carter apparently locked Lizbeth in her room and left in his Corvette to visit a strip club on Route 50 to drink watered down whiskey and put twenty dollar bills in the stockings of the dancers. Tonight as he got out of his car at the illegal club, Garrett pulled up in a van, got out and thrust his Sig Sauer P226 into Carter's side. He cuffed Carter's hands behind him, and forced him into the back of the van while instructing him to stay silent or have his head blown off.

"Take my money. Hell, take my car," Carter tried to offer. No response from Garrett to the offer.

Plastic ties secured Carter's legs together, and duct tape over his mouth silenced him. Nothing more was said as Garrett drove to his own waterside property on Kent Island. Reaching his destination, he cut loose Carter's ankle ties and walked him to his boathouse.

Inside the boat house, Garrett chained Carter by his arms to the wall of the boat house with his legs hanging in the water up above his knees. Garrett removed Carter's shoes and socks, and cut away his pants legs so only bare skin touched the water. Muffled grunts could be heard through the duct tape, although his eyes broadcast his terror.

Garrett said only one thing, "Being helpless and terrified isn't so great is it? Watch out for the turtles and the crabs. I'll check in on you tomorrow."

The next night Garrett looked in on him. The crabs and turtles had indeed found him and his flashlight found several crabs clinging to his legs. Something had obviously been nibbling on him. He was very much alive, though if allowed to talk, he would probably ask to be allowed to die. "Oh, don't worry about your wife," Garrett said. "I unlocked and opened the door to her room last night as she was sleeping." Carter's eyes opened in understanding.

"See you in a couple of days. Bye now." Carter heard him humming. "Mack the Knife '' from the ThreePenny Opera as he left.

On the fifth day Garrett found Carter dead. From fright, heart attack, or bleeding out, it did not matter to Garrett. He raised Carter's body, slid a large black plastic bag from Home Depot up over his near meatless legs and up over his head. He put the bag in his motor boat, where he wired a cinder block to his torso, and dropped Carter's body into the deep channel of the Chesapeake. The bag itself, Garrett put into a bag of trash and left in a dumpster at the strip joint where Carter's Corvette had been parked. Garrett assumed the car was somewhere in Baltimore or DC.

When Garrett next met Steve for lunch, before he could tell Steve that his New Orleans contact had no useful suggestions, Steve said "Lunch is on me. We are celebrating."

"How's that?" Garrett asked.

The words tumbled out. "The son-of-a-bitch is gone. It looks like he got in his Corvette and ran off with some stripper he had been seeing. Lizbeth is in shock but her therapist says she's going to be okay. That bastard had been beating on her."

"That's great news. Tell you what, since you are buying, I am going to have a double shot of Laphroaig to help you celebrate."

Short Story
1

About the Creator

Cleve Taylor

Published author of three books: Ricky Pardue US Marshal, A Collection of Cleve's Short Stories and Poems, and Johnny Duwell and the Silver Coins, all available in paperback and e-books on Amazon. Over 160 Vocal.media stories and poems.

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