Chapter Twenty-seven
Dylan Harris stepped in a soft boggy area on the property they had purchased, and his expensive leather loafers sunk completely from view. He cursed loudly and struggled to free his foot from the oozing earth. Connor came up behind him and helped him out. The shoe was dripping with soft black mud that continued up his white khaki pants nearly to his shin.
“Shit!” he said, hanging on to his father’s shoulder and shaking his foot to flick off some of the mud.
“That’s what it looks like,” his father said, laughing.
Dylan didn’t seem to appreciate the joke.
The property was over 200 acres of mostly flat farmland, with a few dozen acres of heavily wooded land closer to the lake, most of which bordered protected wetlands near Horton Creek that were preventing them from moving forward with their project.
“What do you expect to find out here?” he asked his father. “We’ve been here a dozen times.”
Connor was surveying the perimeter of the property and the area running along the wetlands. “We need access to this piece of the property,” Connor said, “otherwise we can’t get enough units in here to make the numbers work.”
Dylan shook his head in disgust. “We’ve been through this a thousand times, Dad. I know the projections.”
Connor Harris turned to look at his son. “What you should also remember is if this damn project doesn’t come together, we are done! We’ve got everything tied up in this piece of crap property!”
“I don’t need reminding,” Dylan said.
Sally found Alex back down at the EmmaLee, sitting in his office below decks going through a Fed Ex package full of mail from New York. He didn’t hear her walk in and she crept up behind him and kissed him on the ear. He flinched back and turned around quickly in the heavily padded leather desk chair.
“Oh honey, it’s you,” he said.
Sally teased him with a sexy smile and said, “Who else would be kissing you on the ear?”
Alex blew out a deep breath. “Well, interesting you should ask.”
“What?” Sally asked, pulling a chair up next to him.
“Now I don’t want you to go all crazy about this, but I need to tell you what happened when I took Anna to the airport.”
“What now?”
“Well, we were standing there while Joey was loading the plane, finishing up our discussion about next steps on the case. Anna was turning to leave, and she came up and hugged me and then she kissed me.”
Sally tried to remain calm. “Is this how you always say goodbye to your attorney?”
“Ah… no, this would be the first time,” Alex said, “and you don’t have to say I told you so.”
Sally sat forward in her chair and tried as hard as she could to keep from grabbing everything on Alex’ desk and throwing it. Of course, she knew the woman had these feelings for her husband, but after the discussion they had just had this morning, Sally was finding it hard to believe she was being this brazen. “Alex, I really don’t know what to say. I’m not surprised, but…”
“I’m telling you this not to upset you, but to make sure you realize I’m not trying to hide anything about this either.”
“That’s why I love you,” she said and leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek this time.
“I was so surprised when it happened, I really didn’t know what to do or say.”
“You didn’t kiss her back, did you?”
Alex chuckled and tossed the pile of mail in his lap back on the desk. “Obviously, I need to have a few words with my attorney.”
“Obviously,” Sally echoed.
Megan saw Will Truegood standing on the road that came down to the lake at Horton Bay. She had called him out at his cabin to say she wanted to see talk to him. He told her again he didn’t want her to be seen with him in Charlevoix, so they agreed to meet out at the quiet bay. She had asked Sally if she could take the little Chris Craft, EmmaLee II.
Will caught the boat as she eased it up on the shore. “Hop in,” Megan said.
He jumped up onto the bow, pushing off and Megan turned and backed the boat out into the lake. Will sat down next to her. “What was so important we couldn’t talk on the phone?”
“I don’t know, I just needed to see you,” Megan said. She turned the boat south across the bay and then pressed the throttle down and the boat sped out across the open lake. Fifteen minutes later they slowed as the little Chris Craft approached the Ironton Ferry, keeping the boat just above idle speed to obey the No Wake area through the narrows. They rode in silence for a while and Will looked hard at her, trying to read what this was all about. Megan just kept looking straight ahead, maneuvering in the boat traffic through the channel.
They passed the last buoy in the No Wake zone and Megan pressed the throttle down again and the boat sped up and came quickly on plane across the surface of the South Arm. She sat up on the back of the seat to let the wind blow in her face and Will joined her. He watched the joy in her eyes as she steered the little runabout down the lake. She looked over and smiled at him.
After they had gone a mile or so down the lake, Megan turned the boat in toward the bridge over to Holy Island. She slowed until they were only about 50 yards out from the bridge and then turned off the engine. The boat drifted slowly to a stop offshore.
“Sally told me a story about her father, Jonathan McKendry, when he was a boy up here,” Megan said.
“My family knew the McKendry’s very well,” Will said. I was just a young kid when Jonathan and his wife and granddaughter were killed in the accident down off the Manitous.”
“We have the painting Sally did of her little daughter, Ellen, hanging in the house up in Charlevoix. She was the most beautiful little girl.”
“Everyone’s missed them all a lot up here,” Will said. “So, what’s the story?”
“Oh, I guess when Jonathan was 10 or 12 years old, he came down here to Holy Island with his older brother, Luke and Uncle George. They came in an old boat like this and when they got to the island, Luke dared the two younger boys to do a backflip off the Holy Island bridge.”
“What, into the sand?” Will said. “It can’t be two-foot deep under the bridge. Look up there.”
“I know,” Megan said, “but back in the ‘30’s, I guess the lake was a lot higher and there was plenty of water under the bridge. Luke had a bad leg and surprised both Jonathan and Uncle George when he did a perfect back flip off the rail of the bridge. But he didn’t come up and they both panicked and jumped in after him. Luke had gone back under the bridge and snuck back up behind and jumped down on top of them, scaring them half to death again.”
Will laughed at the story, looking over at the old bridge, trying to imagine the scene all those years ago.
“I also wanted to tell you I broke up with Rick this afternoon,” she said suddenly, looking over at him to see his reaction.
Will looked down and grimaced, shaking his head and then said, “Megan, I didn’t want any of this to come between you and your friends. I’m awful sorry.”
Megan looked at him and said, “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. These so-called friends of mine… well, I guess I didn’t know them as well as I thought I did.”
“Still, I’m sorry,” Will said. “I know this has to be really hard for you.”
Megan nodded her head slowly, putting her feelings for Rick behind her and waiting for some clarity to come on how she felt about Will. He was just the most natural and easy person to be around and she knew right at that moment, sitting with him here on this quiet bay of the lake with the sun going down behind her, that she wanted him to kiss her again.
Will looked back trying to read the look on her face. “Megan?”
She slid over next to him. “Oh, just shut up,” she said and then pulled him close and kissed him. She closed her eyes and let the feelings flow between them.
Sheriff Elam Stone had little patience for attorneys and the court appointed
attorney for Vince Slayton was giving him further cause. He sat across the table from the two of them, the prosecuting attorney for the county, Nelson Teague, sat at the head of the table.
Teague said, “Mr. Slayton, your attorney tells me you are interested in sharing some information in this case in exchange for a plea agreement. Is that true?”
Slayton looked over at his lawyer. His greasy hair was slicked back behind his ears and he hadn’t shaved since he’d been arrested. The lawyer was a young kid, fresh out of law school from Petoskey named Ulrich. He had a cleaned and pressed blue suit on with a starched white shirt and red striped tie and was quite a contrast to Slayton sitting next to him.
Ulrich looked over at the prosecutor. “We need to have certain assurances.”
“Off course you do,” Teague said. “And would you mind sharing with us what those assurances might include?”
Ulrich leaned close to Vince Slayton and whispered something in his ear. Slayton nodded back. Teague looked over at the sheriff with a disgusted and impatient look and then took a sip from the bad coffee Stone had brought him in a Styrofoam cup.
“My client will cooperate in this investigation in exchange for complete immunity,” the young lawyer said confidently.
Teague choked and spit his coffee back into the cup. First, he looked at Sheriff Stone and then back at Slayton. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”
Slayton looked over at his lawyer to say something. Ulrich didn’t falter. “Those are our terms,” he said.
“Well, you can take your terms right back into that jail cell, because immunity is totally out of the question here. We’re talking capital murder, Ulrich!”
Ulrich whispered something to his client again and Slayton said something back to him in agreement. “This is by no means an admission of guilt in these charges against my client,” Ulrich said, “but I can tell you he has relevant information in this case that will implicate others.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Sammy Truegood was abandoned by almost everyone that summer. His friends, the community and many of his own people assumed the worst and condemned him, even before all the facts were out. Despite his best intentions he just wasn’t able to let the system run its course. He kept making the situation worse by trying to take matters into his own hands.
… the summer of 1952.
The bonfire roared high up into the night sky, sparks floating up and then fizzling out, dry driftwood crackling and spitting down in the hot red coals. Jennifer Harris sat on a small log with Andy Welton. Elaine was across from them sitting with Josh Knowles and another boy. More beer and whiskey had appeared and everyone except Jennifer was close to stumbling drunk, including Elaine. Jennifer sat there silently, thinking about walking home.
In the firelight, she could see on her watch it was just after eleven o’clock which happened to be her curfew since the night she ended up in the hospital. She had asked Andy twice to take her home and he continued to put her off, asking for just a few more minutes. She tried to get his keys, but he got angry and told her to sit down and wait.
“Andy, if you don’t get me home now, my mother won’t let me out again for the rest of the summer!” she said. “Do you understand me?”
He looked at her with a dazed expression and his head was weaving as he tried to focus on what she’d said. Someone yelled something that was supposed to be funny from across the fire and Andy turned and started laughing, ignoring Jennifer’s request. She got up and started walking away.
Andy almost didn’t notice until Elaine yelled out, “Jennifer, where you going?”
Jennifer didn’t turn back. She was determined to just walk home, even if it took her an hour. Her mother would just have to understand.
Andy jumped up and staggered after her. He caught up and grabbed her arm. “Come on, Jennifer, I’m sorry, we’ll leave soon. Come on back.”
She pulled her arm away and kept on up the trail into the woods. Andy stayed with her and this time pulled her around to stop her. “Jennifer…!”
“Andy, no! Just shut-up!” she screamed. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“Settle down…”
“No, I won’t settle down and I’m leaving now! You’re too drunk to drive anyway.”
“I’m fine,” he said and then repeated with a slurred mumble, “I’m fine Jennifer, just wait a minute.”
She turned and walked away again.
Sammy Truegood was carrying more trash outside to put in the cans when he smelled smoke coming from over the dunes at North Point beach. His first thought was it was kids burning a bonfire. It was fairly common out this way on the beach. But then he thought it could also be a brush fire from some careless smoker and their house was too close to the woods to risk not checking it out. He went inside and told his mother he would be back in a few minutes. He left her sitting at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, too tired to answer him.
He walked down the road to where the trail led down to the beach. There were no streetlights this far out of town, but there was half a moon overhead and when he got closer, he saw two cars parked off the road under the trees. There were no people around, so he continued on down the path through the woods. He heard someone coming towards him and made a quick decision he didn’t need to be seen, so he just slid quietly off the trail behind a tree.
There were two people coming, the first was a girl followed by a man who seemed to be staggering in the loose sand on the path. Then he heard the man call out.
“Jennifer, dammit, would you please stop for a minute!”
Sammy’s senses were instantly on alert.
“Jennifer!” the man yelled out again.
The girl was closer now and in the soft light of the moon through the trees, he could see it was Jennifer Harris. The man ran to catch up with her, stumbling once and then grabbing her and spinning her around. “Please just wait up, I’ll drive you home.”
Sammy’s heart started pounding and his mouth went dry when he saw it was Andy Welton. He watched as Jennifer Harris struggled to get her arm free.
She started crying and screamed out, “You let me go now, or I’ll…”
“Jennifer, stop it!” Andy yelled back.
Sammy reacted without thinking about what was right or wrong, only that he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt Jennifer Harris again. He ran out from behind the tree and pushed himself between the two of them. Both were startled by his sudden appearance and Jennifer even screamed.
“Welton, leave her alone,” Sammy said and pushed him away from her. Andy lost his balance and fell back in the sand. He sat there for a few moments collecting himself and then struggled to get up again. Then he realized who had jumped out at them.
“Why it’s the damn Indian kid,” he said.
“Sammy, what are doing out here?” Jennifer asked, panic still in her voice.
He turned to look at her. “I smelled smoke and was just coming out to check…”
Before he could finish, he felt a stunning pain from a blow to the back of his head and he fell to his knees.
Jennifer screamed as she saw Andy standing there with a big stick in his hands. “Andy, please no!” She watched as Andy staggered backwards in his drunkenness, trying to find his balance.
Sammy got up holding his head, feeling a warm sticky wetness seep into his fingers. His rage from all that had happened to him and his family’s home these past days overwhelmed him. He turned and ran at Welton, screaming wildly. The boy couldn’t react in time and Sammy rammed him in the chest with his shoulder and fell to the ground on top of him. Welton tried to get up and took a swing at Sammy’s face. He blocked the blow and then swung down as hard as he could with his fist on Welton’s face. He forgot about the broken bones under the bandages on his right hand from hitting Connor Harris and when he connected with the forehead of Andy Welton he screamed out as he felt the bones breaking apart again.
Welton tried again to get up and this time Sammy swung hard with his
left hand and caught him square in the nose. Blood gushed out across Welton’s face and he cried out in pain. Sammy lost all sense of control and swung again. He heard Jennifer screaming and pulling at his shirt from behind. He swung again and again. He saw Welton try to cover his face with his arms and then breathless, he finally stopped and fell over in the sand. Jennifer dropped to her knees next to him, crying. His head was spinning, and the fury was still racing through his brain as he tried to catch his breath. Welton continued to lie on his back on the path, letting out a low moaning sound, muffled by his arms over his face.
Sammy sat up and tried to gather his thoughts. As his mind began to clear, he knew he had to get Jennifer out of there. “Do you have a car?” he said.
She shook her head no, still sobbing. Then she got up and went over to Welton and kneeled next to him. Reaching into his pants pocket, she pulled out a key ring and then looked over at Sammy.
“You need to go,” he said.
She stared at him blankly for a moment in the semi-darkness and then got up and ran down the path toward the cars.
Sammy struggled to his feet, feeling a helpless sense of exhaustion numbing his body. Blood from the back of his head trickled down through his hair and onto his neck. Welton continued to lie on the ground in a drunken and beaten stupor, moaning and rolling slowly from one side to another.
Sammy left him there and started back up the path. He heard a car start and then drive away.
Jonathan heard a knock at the door and left Emily at the kitchen table with a cup of tea. He looked out a sidelight window next to the door and saw George Hansen standing there in the porch light. He opened the door for his friend.
“Good thing we didn’t go fishing tonight,” George said as he walked through the door.
They walked together into the kitchen and George sat down across from Emily.
“Sara’s finally asleep,” Jonathan said.
“Would you like some tea, George,” Emily asked.
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