*****
Still Wind, Forgotten Days
The Undertaker’s Daughter
An Indian summer had come early in the year 1962. Autumn was about to fall and the bitter chill had begun to stir in the wind because winter was upon the horizon. Mule Creek was a small community that sat on the outskirts of Louisville, Kentucky; it was about fifty miles south of the Jefferson County line. It got its name from the creek that passed through Gilbert County and Jefferson County before it emptied into the Ohio River.
The Wiggins family had moved from Brandon, Ohio to Mule Creek a few years ago. Wallace, the daddy, had taken a job as the county coroner and undertaker for Louisville. His wife was deceased. She was killed in a car wreck three years before he moved to Mule Creek with his daughter, Billy Jo. Wallace took the job in Louisville because he was on the borderline of being fired for drinking on the job in Brandon although he didn’t disclose it when he interviewed for the job in Louisville. Wallace was a gifted man in his field. He was one of the best coroners around, according to a lot of people. However, when his wife was killed he took it very hard and it sent him into a downward spiral. He never fully recovered from the death of his wife because he was crazy about her. He always drank but he kept it under control. But, he became a different man after her death.
Wallace met her in high school and they started dating. She was from Louisville and attended Louisville Central High. He attended Brandon High and went to college at Ohio State where he did his graduate work. They married when he was in his second year of college and they made their home in Brandon. Not long after they married, their daughter was born. They named her Billy Jo. The Billy came from her daddy’s dad and Jo came from her mother’s mother. Wallace worshipped his wife and daughter; they were his world. Things were good for them for several years. They were in with the social society. Yet, they were also down to earth. They always seemed so happy until one day when Pamela was out shopping. She decided to take a little break from shopping so she went into a little coffee shop for some coffee and a doughnut. That’s where she met Todd, a salesman from out of town. When their eyes met for the first time, they both felt something special. The feeling was so strong; she changed her mind about the coffee and doughnut. As she opened the door to leave, she felt the urge to look back. He was looking directly at her with a big smile on his face. She turned and ran out of the shop like a silly high school girl. As she stood on the sidewalk to gather her composure, Wallace drove up.
“Hey, honey, do you want to get a bite of lunch?” he asked.
“Sure, that would be good,” she replied. “I’m tired of shopping anyway. I can finish shopping later.”
“What about a burger at the Tasty Freeze?” Wallace asked as she got into the car. “They’re running a special today on their burger and fries.”
“That’s fine, baby,” she replied.
She wanted to look back when they drove away but she didn’t. A few days later, she stopped off at the coffee shop to see if the guy was there. She went in and looked around; he wasn’t there. So, she got a cup of coffee to go and headed out the door. As she put her hand on the door to go out, the guy had his hand on the door to come in. It startled her when she saw him and she dropped her coffee.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized.
“That’s okay,” he replied. “I believe it was my fault anyway. Here, let me buy you another cup.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said. “I have to be going anyway.”
“Surely you have time to stay for one cup of coffee,” he insisted.
“Well…uh…no, I’m running late for a meeting,” she lied.
“Do you come here often?” he inquired.
“No, yesterday was the first time I ever came in here,” she answered. “I’m sorry but I have to get going.”
“Todd,” he said.
“Todd,” she repeated.
“Yes, Todd is my name,” he smiled and said. “And yours?”
“What?” she asked.
“What’s your name?” he chuckled.
“Oh, it’s Pamela,” she blushed.
“Hi, Pam, can I call you Pam?” he asked.
“Sure, uh, Todd,” she replied. “Well, I’m sorry but I’ve got to run.”
“Bye, Pam,” he smiled and waved.
Hurriedly, she walked down the sidewalk with a warm feeling running through her body. A few weeks later, she got her nerve up to go back to the coffee shop. Wallace had started drinking more so things at home were changing. They were not as happy as they used to be. When she finally arrived at the coffee that day, Todd was not there. She got a cup of coffee and sat at a table by the window. She doubted her actions and felt she was getting into something she should back away from. It just didn’t feel right. As she was finishing her coffee, she looked out the window of the coffee shop and saw him crossing the street. She panicked and quickly got up to leave. Once again, she met him at the door.
“We are going to have to quit meeting like this,” he chuckled.
“I know,” she replied as she looked up at him and smiled.
“Let me buy you a hot cup of coffee,” he suggested with a smile. “You probably need a fresh cup.”
“I believe you’re right about that,” she replied.
After that day, they started seeing each other on a regular basis. They spent time at the Lover’s Nest Motel in Louisville, not far from the river. As the holidays approached, they saw each other more frequently. Wallace was still drinking; he had no idea what was going on. Pamela knew he loved and trusted her and would never suspect anything even though they hadn’t been intimate in a long time.
Wallace and his family celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas as usual. He had no idea his family life was about to change. After New Year’s, Pamela filed for divorce. When Wallace was served the papers, his world crashed down on him. When their daughter, Billy Jo, found out about the divorce, she was devastated. She begged them to work things out and stay together because she was happy and loved them both. When she realized they were not going to work things out, she lost all respect for them and started to rebel. Wallace couldn’t believe or accept it either. He was always loyal to Pamela and he never imagined she would ever leave him. He had become a little suspicious when she had on a new diamond studded necklace after Christmas. He asked her about it but she told him she bought it for herself. However, he could tell the necklace was expense and knew she would never spend that amount of money on herself. Besides, she hardly ever wore any jewelry. He became even more suspicious at a New Year’s Eve party when he noticed she was spending a lot of time with a man by the name of Todd. When he questioned her about it at the party, she acted like she didn’t hear him at first and then told him that she met Todd at the party and it was her first time meeting him. Deep down in his heart, he wanted to believe her. But, she and Todd appeared to be too cozy with each other. As the party went on, it was almost twelve o’clock and he was ready to leave. That’s when he noticed her coming inside from the patio. And of course, she wasn’t alone; Todd was with her. Wallace kept his cool even though he had been drinking heavily. Plus, he didn’t want to make a scene. He knew then it was more to it than what she told him. However, he was still blinded by his love for her. The clock struck twelve o’clock and everyone raised their glasses of champagne to toast in the brand new year.
“Happy New Year!” they all shouted.
After they finished singing Old Lang Syne, the crowd started leaving. Unexpectedly, Pamela brought Todd over and introduced him to Wallace.
“Are you new in town?” Wallace asked Todd.
“Yes, sort of, I’m a salesman. I’m in and out of Brandon a lot,” Todd replied. “Pam…I mean Pamela, your wife, tells me you are the county coroner and undertaker in Louisville.”
“Yes, I am,” replied Wallace. “In the end you’ll probably need me more than you need my
wife.”
“Is that a threat?” asked Todd.
“Take it any way you want to,” said Wallace. “I’ve got to go and so does my wife.”
For the next couple of weeks, Wallace followed Pamela and Todd everywhere they went, even to the motel. One afternoon, he’d had all he was going to take from them; he went off. He was drunk when he busted in on them in the motel room and saw them in bed together. When the door of the motel room flew open, Todd quickly jumped up out of bed; he was naked. Wallace grabbed him and Pamela started screaming and covered herself with a blanket. She knew how violent Wallace could be because he had beaten her and their daughter in the past; he could be a monster when he wanted to be. Wallace and Todd started fighting. Wallace had almost beaten Todd to death before the motel owner heard the commotion and called the police. Luckily, there was a patrol car in the vicinity that answered the call; they arrived in minutes. When they arrived on the scene, it took both officers to pull Wallace off Todd. His anger and bitterness had driven him into a violent rage. After the officers finally separated the two men, Pamela tried to explain what had happened. The officers asked her and Todd if they wanted to press charges. They both said yes and she also wanted to get a restraining order against Wallace. The officers arrested Wallace and took him to jail. Todd was transported to the hospital by ambulance. He was released from the hospital after receiving several stitches and he also had a couple of cracked ribs. Within hours, Wallace was released from jail. Although Pamela had taken out the restraining order, he continued to follow her but kept his distance so she didn’t see him.
About a month later, Todd and Pamela were coming home from a party. It seemed like everything had died down. They hadn’t seen Wallace except in passing and he hadn’t caused them any trouble since the motel incident. Well, it so happened, the night after the party when they were driving home, the brakes on their car went out; Todd lost control of the car and hit another car head on. Todd and Pamela were killed instantly. The people in the other car were sent to the hospital with several broken bones but nothing critical. Wallace immediately became a suspect in the death of Todd and Pamela but he had an airtight alibi which the police confirmed during their investigation; Wallace was never charged. Their deaths were ruled an accident even though the brake line on their car appeared to have been tampered with. Since the police mechanic was careless when he checked the car, he disturbed a lot of the crucial evidence and they had no other choice but to rule the wreck an accident.
Even under the circumstances, Wallace took the death of his wife hard; he truly loved her. Pamela’s death pushed him further over the edge. He spent the majority of his time drinking and grieving over the next few years. He was angry with the Lord and the world which affected his relationship with his daughter, Billy Jo. She was all he had left except for the dark demons in the whiskey bottles. When he was sober, he was the best father to Billy Jo. He quit drinking for about six months and started to center his life around her. Unfortunately, he started drinking again and his bitterness and hatred drove him back over the edge. He continued the pattern of going from sober to drunk over the next several months. When he was sober, everything was so much better for him and Billy Jo. However, from time to time, he thought about the many memories he had missed out on when he drank and he’d get the urge to start back drinking. He often recalled the previous drunks he’d had and how he would fuss at Billy Jo for no reason and on several occasions he had even hit her before he realized what he was doing. Even though it hurt her, it hurt him even more; the last thing Wallace wanted to do was hurt Billy Jo. During his rages, Billy Jo would run to her room and cry. She spent a lot of time in her room so she didn’t have to be around him. She knew he was sick and in her heart she thought she could help him. Nevertheless, his sickness finally cost him his job.
After he lost his job, he and Billy Jo moved to Mule Creek, Kentucky. He was able to get a job in Louisville, Kentucky as the coroner and undertaker. Everything was good at that time and they were finally happy once again. They had been in Mule Creek for six months before Wallace fell off the wagon again. He slipped around to drink so Billy Jo wouldn’t find out. Unbeknownst to him, Billy Jo already knew because she was so much like her mother; she had noticed right away.
It was late one night when Billy Jo got up out of bed when she thought she heard something downstairs. At first, she thought it was Wallace because he always made a lot of noise when he came home late at night especially when he had been drinking. When she got up out of bed and went over to the window and looked out, she noticed Wallace’s car was not in the driveway so she went downstairs and looked around. Even though she didn’t see anyone, she became more afraid when she heard the noise again. Quickly, she rushed out the door, got on her bicycle and headed to her friend’s house that wasn’t too far down the road. She rode as fast as she could. She was scared and all alone except for a few cars that passed her. The faster she pedaled, the faster her heart raced. She was coming out of a blind curve when she saw headlights coming toward her. She tried to get out of the way but the car was going so fast and weaving back and forth. She wasn’t able to get out of the way in time. The car hit her and knocked her into a ditch where she hit her head on some rocks and died. The car slowed down a little bit but didn’t stop. It was a short while later before another car passed. But, the driver didn’t see her lying in the ditch. It was a bit longer before another car came by. The driver of the car thought he saw something so he stopped and backed up. The first thing he noticed was her bicycle wheel sticking up out of the ditch. The driver got out of his car to get a better look. He let out a loud gasp when he saw Billy Jo tangled up in her mangled bicycle and lying in a puddle of blood. He flagged down the next car that passed by. He told the couple to go and call the police. Quickly, the man, Charles Booker, and his wife, Christy, took off down the road to find a phone. The first house they came to was Wallace’s house. Wallace was sitting up in a chair; he was drunk. He had not been home long when they knocked at his door. He staggered to the door and opened it.
“May we use your phone?” Charles Booker asked. “It’s an emergency.”
“Sure,” Wallace replied, “come on in. The phone is over there on the table. Are y’all having car trouble?”
“No, sir,” replied Charles. “There has been an accident down the road.”
“There have been several wrecks on that narrow road since I moved here,” Wallace stated.
Christy Booker phoned the police and told them there had been an accident and that they needed to send an ambulance as well. Wallace heard her tell them a girl on a bicycle had been hit by a car. He had no idea she was talking about Billy Jo. He took another drink of whiskey and sat back down in his chair. Why in the world would a child be out this late at night on a bicycle, he wondered. I hope the child is alright, he said to himself. After Christy hung up the phone, she told Charles the police were on their way. As the two of them were leaving, they thanked Wallace for letting them use his phone. Before he could respond, he passed out. By the time the Bookers made it back to the accident, the police and ambulance were arriving on the scene. The man who found Billy Jo told the police he didn’t witness the accident. However, Charles and Christy Booker told them a speeding car had passed them and was driving erratically. In fact, they were going to call the police the first chance they got to report it.
“Are you the ones who called us?” asked the officer.
“Yes, sir,” replied Christy. “I called you.”
“What are your names?” the officer questioned.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” replied Christy. “My name is Christy and this is my husband Charles. We live in Walker Way, Kentucky. We were on our way home when the man over there flagged us down.”
“You said a speeding car passed you. Can you give me a description of the car and the driver?” asked the officer.
“No, it happened so fa
st,” Charles explained. “All I could tell was it was an older car and dark in color. We really couldn’t tell because it was so dark,” Christy stated.
“I understand,” the officer replied. “Let me get your number in case I need to contact you for more information.”
“Our number is 555-556-5678,” Christy stated.
“Or, if you think of anything else please give me a call,” he said as he handed them his card.
The next morning when Wallace woke up, he had a terrible hangover. He downed to raw eggs and drank a glass of tomato juice because it always helped him with his hangovers. He was sitting at the table when the phone rang; it was the police. They informed him there had been an accident and they needed him to come to the coroner’s office. He told them he was on his way. He got dressed, grabbed his coat and hat and headed toward the door as he yelled out to Billy Jo that he’d be back shortly. But, she didn’t answer. He figured she was still asleep and didn’t hear him. When he arrived at the morgue, he noticed his assistant wasn’t there. Before he got out of the car, he grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the back seat and took a swig of whiskey to take the edge off of the night before. When he entered the lab, he saw the body lying on the examining table and covered with a sheet. The closer he got to the body an awful feeling came over him. He paused for a moment before he reached to pull the sheet back. He stood in silence and thought to himself, Lord, please don’t let it be. He slowly pulled the sheet from the body. When he saw the face, he started screaming; it was Billy Jo. He buckled at the knees and fell to the floor.
“My God, my God, why,” he cried bitterly as he buried his head into his hands. “Why, oh God, why?” he cried.
One of the officers ran in and covered Billy Jo’s face with the sheet. He helped Wallace up and sat him in a nearby chair. Wallace cried uncontrollably and questioned God. But, he could not see any wrong in himself. The officer knew Wallace was going to need some help to get over the death of his daughter. He told the officer to call an ambulance because he needed to get something to calm him down.
“What’s wrong?” asked the other officer.
“That’s his daughter on the table,” replied the officer.
When the ambulance arrived, it took the ambulance personnel and the officers quite awhile to get him into the ambulance. He fought them with all his might; he didn’t want to leave Billy Jo.
“I can’t leave her,” he cried. “She is all I have left. Forgive me, Billy Jo. Please forgive me. I’ll never drink again,” he cried as he ran over and hugged her lifeless body.
After several minutes of struggling with Wallace, they finally got him into the ambulance. He was taken to the hospital and given some medication to calm him down. Detective Bryant, one of his friends who was working the case, came to the hospital to question him. However, at that time, Wallace couldn’t remember where he was that night, what he had done or when he last saw Billy Jo. They both tried to figure out why she was out on the road that late at night riding her bicycle. But, neither one of them could come up with any answers.
“When you got home, did you check on her?” Detective Bryant asked.
“No,” Wallace replied. “I assumed she was asleep. I was so drunk I can barely remember the man and woman coming to use the phone.”
“We have called for the county coroner at Barksdale to come and examine the body. After the examination is complete, I’ll go from there,” stated Detective Bryant.
“Thanks, Bryant, I really appreciate all you’re doing to find out who killed her,” Wallace said. “When can I get out of here? I need to make the arrangements for her funeral and all.”
“Let me check with the doctors and see if you’re ready to be discharged. If you are, do you want me to take you home?” Detective Bryant asked.
“Sure, I need to get home. I have a lot of things to take care of,” he said.
From that day on, Wallace never looked at the bottom of a whiskey bottle again nor did he ever look up at the sky above. According to the autopsy results, Billy Jo died from blunt force trauma when she hit her head on the rocks in the ditch. There were no leads in the case and no sign of the mystery car that hit her. Every tip the police received about the car led to a dead end. With as many cars that traveled that road, it could have been anyone. The police were baffled. There appeared to be little to no hope of ever finding the hit and run driver.
As the days passed, Wallace still grieved for his daughter. He hadn’t heard a word about the hit and run driver. He was angry and upset because nothing had turned up. But, he was so depressed and hurt; he didn’t care anymore because it wasn’t going to bring Billy Jo back.
Finally, there was a break in the case when an officer noticed something red that looked like blood on the right front bumper of Wallace’s car. The police got a warrant and was able to take some samples from the car and sent them to the lab for processing. It turned out the samples were not blood but paint; the same color as his daughter’s bike. They presented the information to Hillus James, the D.A. Hillus told the officers to bring him in for questioning. Hillus was Detective Bryant’s half-brother. Within an hour, Wallace had been picked up and brought in for questioning.
“Wallace, can you tell us how the red paint got on the right front bumper of your car?” the D.A. asked.
“No, sir, I can’t remember. I don’t remember anything that happened the night my daughter was killed. Wait a minute. Are you trying to imply I killed my daughter?” Wallace asked.
“No, we’re not saying that,” the D.A. replied. “We’re just trying to figure out how the red paint got on your car. You stated earlier you were out of it that night and couldn’t remember where you were or what you did. Is it possible you hit her and didn’t realize it?”
“Anything is possible I guess,” he said. “But, I didn’t. At least I don’t think so.”
“We have two eyewitnesses who saw a dark car speeding and driving erratically down the road about the time of the hit and run. When they came to your house to use the phone, it appeared to them you had just gotten home. Plus, you don’t live too far from where the accident happened,” explained the D.A.
“You all have known me for a long time,” Wallace said. “Sure, it’s true, I get drunk and I have a drinking problem. Surely, you don’t think I did it. For crying out loud, that’s my daughter you are talking about.”
“Maybe you just don’t want to remember!” shouted the D.A. as Detective Bryant walked in.
“I heard there is some new evidence,” stated Detective Bryant.
“Bryant, tell them I wasn’t the one who killed my daughter.”
“Come on, Hillus. Considering all he’s been through, give him a break. Technically, I don’t think you have enough evidence to hold him.”
“After the two eyewitness statements, I am looking at charging him with vehicular homicide, drunk driving, speeding and reckless driving,” informed the D.A.
“Can the eyewitnesses identify him as the man who was driving the car?” questioned Detective Bryant.
“Well, no,” replied the D.A.
“Then all you have is circumstantial evidence and no real evidence to tie him to the crime. Let him go,” Detective Bryant said. “He’s not going anywhere.”
“Okay, Wallace, you can go for now,” said Hillus. “And Detective Bryant, I hope you know what you’re doing. You know it’s highly possible he did it but doesn’t remember,” stated the D.A.
“No, I don’t know,” replied Detective Bryant. “If you don’t mind, I would like to talk to the two eyewitnesses and see if they have remembered anything else about that night. Do you have their address?”
“Yes,” replied the D.A, it’s here in the case file.”
“Would you like to go with me, Hillus?” asked Detective Bryant.
“Yes, I would,” he replied.
Within minutes, Detective Bryant and D.A. Hillus were on their way to Char
les and Christy Booker’s house on Walker Way. When they arrived and knocked on the door, they didn’t think anyone was at home because there was no car in the driveway. Detective Bryant looked around back to see if they were in the backyard but he didn’t see them anywhere. However, he did see a car parked in the backyard which he thought was out of the ordinary. He bent down and looked at the right front bumper. He immediately noticed a streak of red paint and something that appeared to be blood. He took a sample of it and they left. When they got back to the station at Mule Creek, Detective Bryant turned the sample over to the lab and waited for the results. A few hours later, the results were in. It was confirmed; the chips of red paint were identical to the red paint on Billy Jo’s bike and it was definitely her blood. It was enough for them to obtain a warrant to bring them in for questioning and have the car towed in to search for more evidence.
Detective Bryant and D.A. Hillus went back to the Booker’s house and they had gotten back home. When they answered the door, Detective Bryant handed them the warrant. He allowed them to call their lawyer before he took them back to Mule Creek for questioning and had their car towed in. Once at the station, they waited for Charles and Christy’s lawyer to arrive. After their lawyer arrived, Charles and Christy told Detective Bryant, D.A. Hillus and their lawyer what happened that night. As they were questioning Charles and Christy, the officers were examining the car. They found some more incriminating evidence, Billy Jo’s hair, on the bumper. The Bookers had bought another car and parked the one they hit Billy Jo with behind the house. The one thing they forgot to do was check the car for incriminating evidence. They thought since they gave an eyewitness account they would never be suspects in the case. Hours later, it was conclusive. The mystery had been found and so had the occupants of the car.
After hours of heavy and strenuous questioning, the Bookers gave in and asked for a deal. The D.A. offered them a plea bargain of hit and run and reckless endangerment instead of vehicular homicide since Billy Jo’s death was not the result of being hit but from hitting her head on the rocks when she fell into the ditch. They accepted the plea bargain and their lawyer asked for a bench trial instead of a jury trial since they had already signed a written confession.
In their written statement they stated they passed Wallace the night they hit Billy Jo. After they hit her, they slowed down a little ways up the road but panicked and sped off. Further up the road, they became afraid and decided to go pack to help Billy Jo. As they approached the scene, they saw a car pulled over at the accident site and a man standing beside the road. The man tried to flag them down but they went on by. Christy talked Charles in to going back. By that time, the man was standing in the ditch with Billy Jo’s body and told them to go and call the police. They both swore it was an unfortunate accident. They were on their way home from a party and started arguing about an affair Charles had with Christy’s best friend. Charles was not paying attention when he went around a blind curve. When he looked up and saw Billy Jo, it was too late. He swerved to miss Billy Jo but the right side of his car hit her and knocked her into the ditch. They figured since no one witnessed the accident, they might able to get away with it.
The Bookers were arrested and carried to jail. By afternoon, they had bonded out of jail. They were tried and convicted of hit and run and reckless endangerment. They each received three years in jail and placed on probation for two years.
Wallace never could let it go. He blamed himself, more than anything, for Billy Jo’s death. After the Booker’s trial, Detective Bryant visited Wallace to see how he was doing and to tie up one loose end. There was one unsolved thing about the case that Detective Bryant wondered about and that was how the red paint got on Wallace’s car. Detective Bryant asked Wallace about it that day. At first, Wallace wasn’t sure. He had to think about it for a while.
“Oh, I remember,” Wallace said. “Billy Jo was riding her bike in the yard one day and ran in to my car and left a red scratch on the bumper. I got upset with her when she told me but I forgave her because she hurt her knee when she fell and was crying.”
“That’s all I need to hear,” said Detective Bryant. “I didn’t suspect you of anything; I just needed to find out. It’s the detective in me.”
“I understand,” replied Wallace. “Thanks for all the work you did on the case.”
“Take care, Wallace,” Detective Bryant said as he got up to leave.
Wallace shook his hand and thanked him again. About a year later, Wallace passed on. He had basically grieved himself to death over the loss of his wife and daughter. He never could let it go or forgive himself for everything that had happened.