I know the river seems like the place to dump a body. It’s what you see in the pictures and it’s got a certain romance to it, I suppose, if that’s how you’re heart works. The truth is, it’s awful. Bodies float, and trying to weight them down in deep water is a hopeless task. However you try, the weight will separate quickly and then your corpse is like a damn airline seat cushion. Also, rivers have current which makes floaty things move around. Invariably the body will wash up on shore, dry out in the sun and perfectly preserve all that beautiful evidence. You’ll be in cuffs in less than a week.
No, what you want is a lonely place with shallow standing water. Something knee deep in a place where people don’t come to picnic. I had a place I’d used before, not recently mind you. That’s the other thing, you can’t be dropping bodies in the same place week after week. Really, you shouldn’t be dropping bodies anywhere week after week. If you have a scheduled body disposal day it’s probably time to spend a few hours reevaluating your life. That said, I try not to be too judgy, I mean, I had two rotters in my trunk at one time, so I wasn’t generally on the solidest moral ground to begin with.
Anyway, I had a spot near J. Percey Priest Dam. It’s about a mile from the Tennessee Women’s Prison, which, unsurprisingly is how I found the location in the first place. I got a lot of exes living in that joint, so I’m out this way from time to time. I have, what you might call, questionable taste in women. I guess I’d call it that too, but I swear it’s not intentional. They all seem so normal at the start. I’m just putting that out there now because, well, let’s face it; you don’t need a black belt in cliche to see where this shit is going.
So yeah, large rocky banks, shallow still water, and generally unattended. The bodies would be found eventually, but in my experience it would take a few weeks, or possibly even months. That’s what you want. You want the body all the way under water, face down, in the mud. Eyes and mouth open if you can. You want entry points is what you want. In these situations bugs and small fish are your best friends.
When I got there there was a car leaving, but whoever it was didn’t seem to take any notice of me. I parked and sat in my car for a while, probably twenty minutes, just to make sure the place stayed empty. It was a beautiful night, not a cloud in the sky and far enough from downtown to let you see the stars. I got out and stood a few yards from the engine and listened. The place was empty. Only the sound of the water moving through the dam could be heard.
I got back in and rolled the car as close as I could to the water and popped the trunk. I pulled out the bodies, then dragged them one at a time down to the water. You want exposure so they needed to be unwrapped. I unrolled the two goons and carried the crumpled shower curtains back to the car and stuffed them in the trunk.
I spaced the bodies about fifty feet apart in the water and piled some of the large stones from the banks on top of them for weight and cover. Once the physical labor was done I sat on the rocks next to the water for a bit to catch my breath. I looked down and saw blood on my white button down shirt.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
I pulled the shirt and tie off and walked back to my car. I popped the trunk again and stuffed them in with the curtains then shut it up and drove away. I stopped at a bar on the way into town and threw the shower curtains and the shirt and tie into their dumpster out back then wound my way back to my place.
Still no heat scoping out the place, which I actually found odd. Surely the fed would be seen as missing by now, and while I doubted that his associates would have any reason to suspect him dead, I also figured that they knew where he’d been and if he wasn’t checking in they’d be checking up. Still, I had nothing to complain about if they weren’t, so I stuck my car in the alley, threw on the boot, and headed up to catch whatever sleep I could before I had to be out in the working man’s world.