Getting Rid of Evidence

"Now what, Dude?" Red squealed like the baby he was.

"Now what, now what, now what? Will you shut the fuck up and let me think."

"They saw your truck. They saw us! They know who we are from the registration for the cottage rental."

"I know that. But we aren't on the registration papers. Remember, Todd used his dad's credit card. You and I are in the clear. We can lay it all on Todd-- if you can keep your mouth shut."

"Jesus, how did this get so complicated?" Red whined. "I thought it was over and done with when we got rid of that girl. Now we have two more murders on our hands. We're going to fry, pal. Fry."

I was getting sick and tired of his shit and was making a plan to end it quick. He enjoyed that chick, just like the rest of us did. Now, he wants to pretend like he wasn't there. The kid and her mom? That was all Red. If he hadn't grabbed the kid she would have run off happy and the mom wouldn't have called the cops.

I've known Red all my life and one thing I knew for sure about him is he has always been a coward; always looking for someone else to blame. That puts the bullseye on me and I wasn't going down for any of this. I just hoped the kid and mom were dead under the water and couldn't identify us.

"I got some bad news, buddy. We have to get rid of your boat." I told him.

"What? No! Why?"

"Duh. Why do you think, Einstein?" They saw your boat on the trailer behind my truck. It's pretty distinctive. My truck is just another old pickup truck," I calmly explained, keeping the hate out of my voice.

"Yeah, but we pushed the van into the water. They're dead. They can't say shit," he protested.

"What if they're not? What if they tell the cops about us. They got a real good look at you, Red. You're toast if they get on a stand to testify. This is for your own good. Trust me," I tried to sound sincerely interested in his safety.

"Son of a bitch. You're right. You're right. Let me think this through," he said, sweat beading on his forehead.

I drove along the route running next to the lake shore, looking for a secluded spot to put the boat in, letting Red think he was in charge of figuring this out.

"Okay, okay. I got it. Lucas, pull into that little clearing up the road. Looks like we can put the boat in there. We'll take it out a couple hundred feet from shore, capsize it, and swim back. Boat gone. No evidence. Bingo!" he said proudly.

"That's a great idea. I've got this," I said as I backed into the graveled clearing and edged the trailer toward the shore.

One of the wheels under the boat got hung up on rocks while I was backing the rig into the water, so I revved the engine and bulled over them, tearing the tires to shreds. Who cared? I was leaving the trailer underwater too when I left.

"Hop out and unhook it, dude," I ordered, once the boat was in the water.

The water was chest high and Red was a tall guy. He unhooked the boat from the trailer. I jumped out, grabbed the gas can from the truck bed and unlatched the hitch that held the trailer to my truck. I slipped and slid over the slime-covered rocks and flopped into the boat, soaking wet.

Handing the gas can to Red I said, "Fill 'er up. Let's take this baby for one last good run before ditching her."

Then, I hung off the back of the boat and grabbed the metal struts of the trailer before he took off. I'd pull it out to the middle of the lake and let it sink. No boat. No trailer. No Red.

"What the fuck you doing, Lucas?"

"Just go, go, go! We'll dump this before we sink the boat."

"Oh. Okay. I guess that'll work."

The steel was cutting into my hands with the force of the water trying to push it away behind the boat's draft. I managed to hang on until the water would cover it completely, then I had to let go.

"Damn! My hands are all tore up. Toss me your first aid kit."

I poured the stinging antiseptic over the cuts and unrolled some gauze, wrapping it around both hands and tying the ends to keep the blood from dripping. Shit. This was not in the plan.

Red made a few circles, enjoying the last couple of minutes with his beloved boat before finding a spot close enough to shore to swim back to the truck.

"This a good spot?" He asked, as I stood up and surveyed the distance to shore.

"Yeah, this is perfect. You jump in and I'll smash a hole in the hull, and we'll wait till it sinks before swimming back. You good to tread water for a few minutes?" I asked as if I really cared.

"No problem," he said, putting on his life vest.

"No. We gotta leave the vests on the boat. It's evidence, man," I insisted while I searched for something to break a hole in the bottom of the fiberglass boat.

There was a metal-handled fishing net that might do the trick. After Red jumped into the lake I began smashing it into the hull until bits of red fiberglass flew from my efforts. It wasn't much, but I had managed to pound a two-inch crack into the hull and water slowly seeped into the boat.

Red was hanging onto the ropes on the side of the boat, which would ruin the next part of my plan. "Hey, you start swimming and I'll wait till it starts sinking."

He pushed off from the side and began taking long, strong strokes toward shore, finally leaving me free for the final solution. I started the engine again, causing him to look behind him in time to see me following him through the water. The look on his face changed from puzzled to shocked, as I plowed over him with the boat, shredding his surprised face with the propellers. Not wanting to take chances, I used the fishing net to shove him down under the water, holding him there until I was certain he'd never squeal to anyone about how we killed that girl from the strip club.

Then, I put on the life vest he'd discarded and dove into the cold water, my hands on fire from the cuts. The boat was slowly sinking and the trailer was nowhere to be found. The only remaining legacy of our gang bang night was floating face down in the rust-colored water and would soon be picked apart by the birds.

Despite the pain in my fingers, I was elated when I climbed over the slick rocks and sprawled on my back in the sunshine next to my truck. It was finally finished. Over. Done. None of the other guys were about to ruin their nice lives by squealing about what we did. Red always was a problem.

I closed my eyes and lay in the sun until my clothes had dried completely, dozing off several times. When I looked up I was staring into the barrel of a black pistol aimed at my head.

"Roll over. Hands behind your back. Now!"