Homicide was rare in Guntersville. The crime rate itself was higher than the national average, but that was due to theft, burglary, and other property offenses. Violent acts were typically limited to assault and robbery charges.
A murder on Buck Island was unheard of.
Griff was feeling the heat, and he’d had another full-force meeting the previous evening that was even more dire than the first. They were seemingly out of options. There was still no direct evidence against Jana Waters, no additional suspect had emerged, and Waylon Pike had seemingly disappeared.
The call from the Marion County Sheriff’s Department had come at 4:30 p.m. A woman named Tara Samples had told the Bridgeport, Alabama, police chief about her encounter with a South Pittsburg man who claimed he’d shot and killed a doctor who was hitting golf balls on his boat dock. Samples, a retired veteran who owned a local business, had heard a news report about the murder of Dr. Braxton Waters and had come in and given a statement. She’d taken a selfie with the man and gave his photo to the police as well. The Bridgeport PD had contacted the authorities in South Pittsburg, and one of the deputies, a longtime resident, recognized the man as Michael Pike. Michael Waylon Pike.
Pike had been found at his mother’s house and taken to the Marion County Jail in Jasper, where he was being held for a number of outstanding warrants and questioning in the murder of Braxton Waters.
Though the Samples woman was admittedly drunk at the time Pike told her about killing the doctor, she had a reputation for being a no-nonsense woman who wouldn’t have reported a crime if she didn’t really think something was wrong. “Tara is the opposite of a drama hound,” Hatty’s source in the Bridgeport PD said. The photograph that Samples had taken had been sent to Hatty, who’d verified with Jackson Burns that the man in the picture was indeed the Waylon Pike who’d been working for him and several others on Buck Island, including the Waterses.
Once they arrived at the jail, a brief conversation was had with the sheriff. Instead of overwhelming Pike with officers, a low-key approach was agreed upon. Hatty and George would go in, and everyone else would view a live video feed. They were then led down a narrow hallway to the interrogation room. Inside the tight space, Waylon Pike sat in an aluminum chair with his head resting on a wooden table. He didn’t look up as they entered.
“Mr. Pike, you have a couple visitors from Guntersville,” a Marion County guard announced and then closed the door.
Hatty cut her eyes at George, who cleared his throat and sat down in one of the aluminum chairs. She continued to stand.
“Mr. Pike, we came down here to arrest you for the murder of Dr. Braxton Waters.”
Pike kept his head on the table, but Hatty saw his neck twitch and eyes blink open. He said nothing.
“If that’s how you want it to go, then we’ll just take you with us and be on our merry way,” Hatty added.
Pike sat up straight and folded his arms across his chest. His brown hair was disheveled, as if he’d been dragged out of bed, and his face was covered in several days’ worth of stubble. He looked at George first and then Hatty. “Dr. Waters?” he asked.
“Don’t play dumb with us,” George said. “Several of the Waterses’ neighbors remember you working on their house, and a Bridgeport woman has given a statement that you confessed to killing him.” That was a bit of an exaggeration. Tara Samples had said that Pike confessed to killing a doctor on the physician’s boat dock. He hadn’t mentioned Waters by name. “You remember Ms. Tara Samples,” George continued. “You met her at Fat Boys Bar & Grill last night and spent the rest of the evening with her.”
“She was drunk,” Pike said. “So was I. I didn’t say a damn thing to her.”
“She begs to differ. She’s a retired veteran with impeccable credibility.”
“Like I said, she was hammered.”
Hatty took a step forward and sat down next to George. “The Marion County Sheriff’s Office searched your mother’s home.” She looked up at the ceiling before lowering her gaze to the suspect. “They found the money.”
Pike bit his lip but otherwise managed to keep a poker face. Impressive, Hatty thought as she continued. “What’s a guy like you doing carrying around $14,000 in cash in a duffel bag?”
“Pretty risky to keep it in the house, don’t you think?” George chimed in. “At least bury it in the backyard or something. But, on the flip side, where does a guy like you hide that much money? I mean, it was under the floor. If your mother hadn’t told the officers where you keep stuff, they probably wouldn’t have found it.”