Josephine Starling was one of those wonderful, delightful, yet mysteriously weird human beings who had experiences and insights that most of us ordinary folk could not even envision. It’s easy to believe that the things she had seen would scare even the most stalwart soldiers of all time, even Genghis Khan and the “scourge of God” himself, Attila the Hun. Aunt Jo had what is often referred to as the sight, a mountain term by which some few individuals could see things most mortals could not. I understate quite a bit at this point. I dare not call it ESP for fear that what Jo could see and perceive might be severely limited with that archaic description. Josephine Starling had helped me on a previous case or two, the last of which being when Starnes and I were trying to unravel a mystery concerning the common belief that wolves were no longer in existence in the hills of McAdams County. The authorities say quite succinctly that there are no wolves living in the Blue Ridge Mountains. The mystery we partially unraveled proved otherwise.
I say that the authorities are mistaken.
“May I pour you ladies some tea?” she said.
“Yes. By all means,” I said as I sat down in the comfortable red chair, which was next to the small, flowered sofa. Both pieces of furniture faced the front door through which we had entered.
I chose the red chair specifically. Like the legendary Wild Bill Hickok, I seldom if ever sit with my back to a door. Weirdness is one thing; surprise is quite another.
“Yes, please,” Starnes said after she had nestled her small frame into the comfortable green chair with its back to the front door, directly across from the small love seat. Evidently Starnes had no Wild Bill Hickok demands for sitting in a room.
Jo’s furniture was particularly comfortable because she cushioned the pieces with extra foam or feathers or whatever she might have had at hand. I was confident that Josephine Starling could work magic with anything her hands could touch.
“This is a delightful berry tea,” she began. “Seven berries in fact plus Rooibos, a South African red bush, and a tad of chaparral that purifies the blood. Do you recall this blend, Clancy?”
“I do, as a matter of fact,” I said, “and if memory serves me, I had some strange dreams because of drinking said tea.”
I had started to drink her mixture and then stopped quickly when she mentioned the Rooibos. I needed to remain conscious for the sake of finding Laurel.
Aunt Jo laughed at me.
“Have no fear, my dear. I did not include the mate, which is one of those rare ingredients that can be a troubling stimulus when the need arises. You may drink freely with no danger of ill effects.”
“Mate?” I asked as I gently sipped some of her tea and it was quite delicious. Starnes had already finished her first cup and was waiting for Jo to pour her a second round.
“Also referred to as yerba and comes from South America originally. Heavy on the caffeine when added to my flavors. I chose to keep you both civil. Did not want to over-excite my friends.”
There was a twinkle in her eye, or so I imagined.
After several minutes of exchanging niceties and catching each other up on our life events since the last time we had been together in this very room, Jo settled back into her sofa and closed her eyes.
“We best get down to business, ladies,” she said. “We dare not waste any time since a young life is at stake here.”
“What do you know about what has happened?” I said to her.
“I know nothing of any sequence of events in your investigation. I only know that last night I saw a young girl sleeping in a pile of dry leaves under a rocky outcropping in a forest.”
“Dry leaves?” I said.
“Yes, they were dry. I was surprised myself at seeing such a vision, considering the deluge we have enjoyed for the last several weeks. The young girl was quite safe; that much I know from what I saw. However, as you both know, circumstances often change quickly. It rather depends upon this or that.”
“Can’t you be more vague?” I asked.
Jo smiled broadly at me.
“I like your humor, Clancy Evans. I am not trying to be vague, child. I merely see things sometimes, and they inform me. Sometimes I know things, but I do not altogether know why I know. I rarely know all, and many a time I crave to know more, but the vision does not always allow me to know the ins and outs. The reason I say that this girl’s situation could change is that I also saw some men who were seeking her and not that far behind her.”
“On her trail?” I said.
“Not quite on her trail. The vision only showed me that they had lost her and were searching for the place that she had evidently escaped from them.”
“And they found the place?” Starnes said.
“They found some evidence that she was in that particular location.”
“Could you see the evidence in your vision?” I said.
“As a matter of fact, I could. Won’t you have more tea, Clancy?” she said as if she were stalling. Since I knew her to be a transparent lady, I had no suspicion of avoidance on her part. She had her own timetable and told her tales at her own rate with only the information she believed would be necessary for the listener. I came to her place with lots of patience. One has to wait for Aunt Jo and her own time piece. Her internal clock is different from any other personal time piece I have known.
I nodded and she poured another round for me. If I was going to have bad dreams, I might as well go all out and have some real doozies.
“It had the appearance of a candy bar,” she continued as she gently placed the tea pot on the antique table in front of us. “The young girl must have dropped it, and one of the men stumbled onto the candy bar in a mud hole.”
“So, they followed her?” I said.
“No, that was the confusing part of what I saw. They did not immediately follow her. They merely marked the place by setting up some rocks. I have to assume that they planned on returning later.”
“So, Laurel has a head start,” I said.
“Laurel?” Josephine said.
“That’s the young girl who was kidnapped. She ran away from home, some men captured her, and your vision suggests that somehow she escaped from them.”
“Does Laurel have a last name?”
“Laurel Shelton,” Starnes said.
“What a lovely name. Would she happen to be William Shelton’s daughter?” Jo said.
“Yes, she is the daughter of William Shelton and Beth Call,” Starnes said.
“I knew William from years ago. I’ve known Beth all her life. I was saddened when their marriage did not work out, then grieved when I learned of William’s death. She’s a special child, this Laurel Shelton.”
“Have you ever met her?” I said.
“Once, when she was a baby. William invited me to the christening at St. Jude Catholic Church over in Weaverville. As I recall, Beth did not want her baby christened by a priest. She had been raised a staunch Methodist, not that she ever went to church. Sometimes our upbringing has more influence on us than actual religion. William insisted and I think that was the beginning of the end of their marriage.”
“And you could tell at that time, when Laurel was a baby, that she was going to be special?” I said.
“Clancy, my dear, it does not take me long to read people. Take you, for example. The first time I met you, I knew that you and I would become friends. Your curiosity and drive are so strong in you that you are the one person who would never give up on any case you might work. You’re fierce and fearless but quite the romantic.”
“Wait a minute,” Starnes said. “I get the detective stuff and the drive for her, but romantic? That part I do not believe.”
“Oh, you can believe it,” Jo said. “It may not be evident to you, but it likely is quite evident to, … say, Sam, her faithful dog.”
Starnes began laughing.
“What’s so funny, Starnes Carver? Do you doubt my abilities after all these years?” Jo said.
“No, ma’am. I would neve
r doubt you. I simply think that this insight you are offering is too funny. It’s the only time I have had reason to question what you deduce about a person.”
“Hold on there, Starnes. I do not deduce. My information comes from observations and visions. I think you need to allow your dogs to run around some.”
She moved quickly to the front door and called to the dogs in the back of the truck. They jumped out at the sound of her voice and headed off in the direction of the large field that was next to her house. Starnes and I walked to the window on that side of the house so we could see the dogs playing. They chased each other awhile, then seemed to be running wind sprints, a race of sorts. They were enjoying themselves, it appeared.
“It’s good for the dogs to run like that. Gets their blood flowing and causes them to think better,” Jo said.
“I don’t think that Dog thinks at all, except about food,” Starnes said to me.
Josephine Starling returned to the sofa and sat down. Starnes and I went back to our respective chairs.
“So, you’ve had a vision about Clancy Evans and it has something to do with romance?” Starnes said.
“I’m not saying anymore than I have already said. I merely mention this so that Clancy will know that I could clearly see that the baby born to William and Beth was a special child. I did not know that the young girl in my vision was that same baby. Perhaps there is some irony there, or maybe another word would suit the situation better.”
“Some might call it a coincidence,” I said.
“But you do not believe in coincidences, do you?” Jo said.
“I don’t. How’d you know that?”
She nodded and stood up.
“It seems that the teapot is nearly empty. Would you ladies care for more of the same blend?”
“We need to be going, Jo,” Starnes said. “Do you have anything else that might help us find Laurel?”
She was halfway to the kitchen and stopped. Josephine Starling turned around and stared at us for a moment or two. She had a fierce look about her face, something akin to a frown without the attitude.
“Just this. The woods where she entered, where she dropped that candy bar, are a few miles from here. There’s a river directly across from where she entered the forest. And you must look for a mud hole. That’s all I can say for now. If I see anything else, I will let you know.”
She turned back toward the kitchen and left us. We took it to be our cue to leave.
Starnes whistled to the dogs and they bounded toward us. They jumped into the back of her truck without the command to do so. They must’ve known it was time to leave.
Chapter 10
“Does Jo’s description give you any clues as to the whereabouts of Laurel’s entry location?” I said to Starnes as we were driving back towards civilization, away from Jo Starling’s quaint little abode of ambient mystery.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I was hoping.”
“You have any idea how many places in this county fit that description? River on one side of a dirt/gravel road and deep woods on the other with mud holes … give me a break, Clancy. Like looking for a needle in a stack of needles, or something similar.”
“So where do we start?” I said.
“I’m running out of ideas.”
“I just had an idea.”
“An idea is good.” Starnes said.
“Let’s see if we can track down Curly McClure and follow him.”
“And if he’s not guilty of anything more than being a macho sleaze ball, where does that leave us?”
“We’ve eliminated one prime suspect.”
“What about those two associates of his, Jerome and Lisha?” Starnes said.
“You think they could be operating alone in this?”
“From what Rogers has uncovered, I doubt it.”
“That gives more credence to my notion about following Curly,” I said.
“What do we have to lose?” she said.
“The most precious thing Laurel has,” I said.
Starnes grunted. I took that to mean she agreed with me but only reluctantly.
I called Rogers to have her put a trace on Curly’s cell phone. She called back less than ten minutes later to give me a location. Curly’s cell phone was on Highway 25/70 on the northwestern side of Madison.
We headed that way. We were probably twenty minutes behind Curly. My estimate. Rogers sent her tracking program to my phone so I could follow without her having to call me with updates every few minutes. She grows impatient with me and my limited technological skills. And my few gadgets. My reasoning in this was simple. Since I had helped to build a computer that could think and do just about anything I wanted or needed done in terms of research and the occasional suggestion, other gadgets I would have to have on hand would just get in my way. She does it all. Why should I bother? The problem with my reasoning was that I had helped to build a computer that could think. It’s the actual reasoning part of her skill set that puts us at odds with each other from time to time. Next time I shall build one without an attitude.
Since Starnes was driving, I was the one with the tracking program following the tiny beam on my cell phone without knowing much of anything about the section of the county where the indicator showed Curly was traveling. Or at least, where Curly’s phone was traveling. We were gambling that Curly and his phone were at the same spot.
“I can’t make out the road number on this thing, but it tells me that he is following Walnut Creek, heading due north.”
“That means he has turned off 25/70.”
A few minutes later Curly made another change of direction.
“Now he’s heading northeast and following Heck Creek. Still can’t make out the road number or name.”
“Guess what, Detective Clancy?” Starnes said.
“I don’t need any snide remarks from you about my lack of technological acumen.”
“I was going to say that Heck Creek fits that description from Aunt Jo regarding water on one side of the dirt road and a deep forest on the other.”
“Reckon we’ll find some mud holes along that road?”
“Silly girl,” Starnes said. “Pay attention to your little beam there.”
“The dot has stopped moving,” I said a few minutes later.
“He’s about ten or so minutes ahead of us. Let me see that contraption you have.”
Starnes pulled her truck to the shoulder of the road and stopped. She then leaned over to see where the dot was in relation to the road and creek.
“I can’t be for certain exactly where that cell is, but I can tell you that it is fairly remote in there and there aren’t many houses along that section of road.”
She pulled back out onto the highway and we sped along toward Heck Creek and Curly’s cell phone. We drove until we tracked the beam to an isolated cabin about two miles from Heck Creek. It was small enough to be considered a hunting cabin, but in McAdams County, one could never be positive as to what was an actual residence and what was not. There was a red Chevy Luv parked alongside the tiny structure.
We decided to backtrack and find a spot off the road in the woods where we could hide Starnes’ truck and still see the road. That way we could see the Chevy Luv when it passed.
We waited nearly an hour. It was mid-afternoon when the red Chevy Luv passed in front of our hiding place. I was in the woods a few yards away from our hidden truck, giving the dogs some exercise, when the Chevy Luv went past. I put the dogs in the truck bed, and I climbed into the cab as Starnes drove after what we hoped to be our prime suspect.
The beam on my cell phone indicated that we were following Curly’s cell phone signal. Oh, the wonders of the satellite invasion.
Since we couldn’t see who was inside the red Chevy Luv because of the tinted windows, we assumed that Curly was driving and that we were following him. At the very least, whoever was in the red truck in front us had Curly’s phone. Of that much I was certain.
> The beam showed us that the truck was now back on the road that ran parallel to Walnut Creek. We were trailing at a safe distance. As we rounded a bend in the road, we could see the red truck had pulled off the road a little, opposite the Walnut Creek side, at the edge of a forest. With my clever detective skills, I determined that the area fit the description given to us by Aunt Jo.
Three men were standing and talking by the red truck. One of them was Curly McClure. I assumed that the other two were Jerome and Lisha.
Starnes decided not to drive on past the red truck, so she quickly pulled off the road, hoping that the men were so preoccupied that they would not notice us. Two of them headed into the woods. The third man, Curly, climbed back inside the truck and drove off.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking,” Starnes said.
“I suppose I am.”
We waited until the truck was out of sight and then edged our way slowly to the spot where the two men had entered the woods. By the time we had parked and had quietly vacated our vehicle, the two men had walked out of our line of sight.
I spotted a mud hole. Verification is my thing. I noticed a piece of paper protruding from a shallow muddy spot in a ditch near the right front tire of Starnes’ truck. I retrieved a half-eaten granola bar still attached to the wrapper.
“Could be mistaken for a candy bar in a vision,” I said.
Starnes grunted some sound. I couldn’t tell if she agreed or not.
“You wanna keep this to check for DNA?” I said.
Starnes said nothing as she pulled out a plastic bag, took the half-eaten object from my hand, and dropped it into the bag. She put the bag in her pants pocket and turned towards the woods.
“You ever hiked these woods?” I said.
“No.”
“Do you know where you are going?”
“Yeah.”
She called Dog and Sam to follow us.
“How is that possible?” I said.
“How is what possible?”
“That you know where you are going, yet you have never hiked these woods?”
The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon Page 6
