Dead Man's Curve

by Jack Patterson

  “Pinky, how the heck are ya?” Lee started.

  “Ice Man? Is that you?” Atkinson asked.

  “The one and only.”

  Atkinson laughed. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

  “What? A brother can’t call another brother without him wanting something?”

  “I think I know you better than that by now—but not that I mind. What can I help you with?”

  “It seems my nephew has run into a little trouble over here and is being charged with murder—unjustly of course.”

  “Joshua Hood is your nephew?”

  “Yes. Did you already receive the paperwork?”

  “I’m looking at it right now. We just scheduled a hearing for him on Wednesday.”

  Lee cleared his throat. “That’s not gonna work.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, first of all, you can’t make the poor kid sit in a holding cell all weekend. Secondly, he’s got a big game tonight for Miller County. We can’t afford to be without him.”

  “This won’t be easy to accommodate. You know that, right? The feds get three days to prepare for the first hearing after this serious of a charge.”

  “If anybody can get it done, I know you can.” Lee paused. “It’s times like these that I’m glad you’re on my side, Pinky.”

  “If it was anybody else—”

  “Great. I’ll see you up there at, say, three o’clock? That should give us enough time to make it back for the game tonight at eight.”

  “See you at three.”

  Lee hung up. He didn’t care that he detected a twinge of reluctance in Atkinson’s voice. It was almost to be expected. While they were in college, Atkinson broke his finger in a Greek flag football game. He was the best receiver on the team, and without him Theta Chi would go down to Kappa Sigma—an unacceptable result. At halftime he informed the team that he couldn’t play any more and needed to go to the infirmary to get his finger checked out. Lee, who played quarterback, led the team-wide mockery of Atkinson to the point that he relented and agreed to play the second half. On the last play of the game with Theta Chi needing a touchdown to win, Lee heaved a pass to the end zone that Atkinson tipped with his broken pinky and then caught to score a touchdown and claim the victory. Lee learned that if you pushed a little on Atkinson, he’d eventually cave and then deliver.

  Lee picked up his binoculars and noticed a six-point buck engaging with his salt lick. He grabbed his rifle and started to sight the animal in before his phone buzzed again.

  “What?” Lee answered.

  “I hate to bother you, Mr. Lee, but Cal Murphy and his wife are becoming a real problem.” It was Sheriff Wilson.

  “How so?”

  “They must’ve been following the FBI taking Josh to Lexington because I saw the wife trying to be inconspicuous and snapping photos of the accident scene. Then I saw Cal get out of the vehicle that was carrying Josh.”

  Lee yelled out a string of expletives. The buck bounded back into the forest, which led to another swearing fit.

  “Some people never learn,” he said.

  “Want me to take care of it for ya?” Wilson asked.

  “Let me handle it. We need to teach those two pests an unforgettable lesson.”

  Lee hung up and jammed the phone back into his pants pocket.

  He scanned the field one more time for any deer. The only thing he saw was a skinny fawn, wandering near the salt lick without any other accompanying deer.

  “Straying from the herd can be hazardous to your health,” he mumbled as he picked up his rifle and set his sights on the animal. He squeezed off a shot and watched the fawn drop to the ground. Then he fired off two more just to be sure before climbing to the ground.

  CHAPTER 23

  CAL SLOWED DOWN as he passed the makeshift memorial around the infamous curve on Powder Keg Road. A flimsy white cross teetered under the weight of waterlogged wreaths. A picture of Emily Palmer tacked to the bottom of the memorial wilted.

  “It’s almost like everyone has forgotten that Emily suffered a grave injustice—and it’s all about another type of injustice,” Cal said as he studied the scene.

  “There’s no justice for the dead,” Kelly said.

  Cal nodded. “But maybe we can get some justice and closure for those who loved her. It’s the least we can do—and it’s not going to happen by sending Josh Hood to prison.”

  In silence, they drove on until Cal turned left toward the Palmer’s house.

  Kelly shifted in her seat and turned toward him. “What makes you so sure that he didn’t do it? Corliss is right when he says there’s a ton of evidence against him.”

  “It seems that way, but when people start reacting in a way that goes against human nature, I start to wonder.”

  “Who do you think is acting so differently?”

  “Everyone. The sheriff, Wilfred Lee. Heck, even Justin Palmer seems a little flaky to me. It’s like they’re all complicit in some sort of cover up.”

  Cal pulled into the Palmer’s driveway.

  “This case blows ‘the cover up is greater than the crime’ philosophy out of the water,” Kelly said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “The cover up was an equal crime to the crime itself here.”

  “Maybe. There’s still a lot more we need to find out before rushing to judgment.”

  They both eased up the steps to the Palmer’s house. Cal rapped on the screen door, as the front door remained wide open.

  “Hello? Is anybody home?” Cal called.

  Moments later, he heard the scuffling of feet. It didn’t take long before Angel made her way to the door.

  “May I help you?” she asked.

  “Yes, we’re looking for Justin Palmer. Is he home?” Cal asked.

  “Not right now. Would you like some coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot.”

  Kelly smiled. “I’d love some,” she said, opening the door and stepping into the kitchen. Cal followed her. “I need something to warm me up on a day like today.”

  “Very good. Have a seat,” she said.

  Cal remained standing as he glanced at the paper on the counter. It was some sort of legal agreement between Palmer and Lee, but he couldn’t make out all the details. Cal flipped his phone to silent and waited until Angel’s back was fully turned toward him. Then, he quickly captured a few discreet photos of the agreement.

  When Angel spun around to ask if he wanted cream or sugar, he ran his hands through his hair, hoping to avoid any appearance of guilt. She studied Cal closely before handing him a mug.

  “So, Angel, we’re trying to find Mr. Palmer. Any idea where he is?”

  “He said he was going on a business trip for a few days.”

  Kelly tilted her head and stared at Angel. “Are you sure about that? When we called his office, someone there told us he was sick. If he doesn’t want to speak to us, we totally understand. But it’s really important that we get an opportunity to talk with him.”

  She walked toward the refrigerator. “No, he left a message right here. See.” She handed the note to Kelly, who then passed it to Cal.

  Had to take care of some business.

  Might take a while.

  They decided to let it slide.

  “So, you haven’t seen him since yesterday?” Cal asked.

  “That’s correct.”

  “About what time did you last see him?”

  “I saw him in the morning for breakfast when I came to take care of Mrs. Palmer. I haven’t seen him since. Only that note.”

  Cal handed the note back to her. “Thank you for the coffee, Angel. And thank you for your time. We need to get going.”

  “I’ll tell him you’re looking for him when he calls,” she said. “He always calls.”

  Cal handed her a card with his cell number on it. “You can reach me here. Have a good rest of your day.”

  He and Kelly returned to their car and waited to speak until both doors were shut.

  Cal s
nickered. “I don’t think Justin Palmer and Angel have the same definition for a business trip.”

  Wide-eyed, Kelly took a deep breath. “I just want to know what kind of business he’s taking care of—and how come nobody has seen him.”

  “Why would someone at Lee Creek say he’s sick if they hadn’t heard from him?”

  “Maybe they were just assuming.”

  “Or maybe they don’t want us looking for him and know he’s got nobody else who will.” Cal turned the ignition as the car roared to life. “Either way, we need to pay someone else a visit.”

  ***

  AS CAL’S CAR RAMBLED over the long dirt driveway leading up to Wilfred Lee’s estate, he and Kelly both wondered aloud if they should’ve let someone know they were going to visit him on his property. The rain had subsided for the moment, yielding to patches of sun for a brief respite.

  Cal called Lee’s office to “remind him” of a meeting they had scheduled that morning and was told by the secretary that Lee was off hunting.

  However, neither Cal nor Kelly batted an eye when the maid who answered the door told them that he was out of town attending to some business.

  “Figures,” Cal muttered. “Let him know we stopped by to see him, will ya?”

  The maid nodded and closed the door.

  “Now what?” Kelly asked.

  “Want to shoot a few hoops?” he asked as he walked toward the goal attached to the garage.

  “I’m serious, Cal.”

  He jogged toward a ball lying on the ground. “So am I. Wanna play Around the World?”

  “Oh, Cal, stop it. We’ve got to figure out our next move.”

  Cal hoisted a shot that clanked off the front of the rim. “I think better when I’m doing something.”

  “Fine,” she said, taking her shoes off and tossing them to the side.

  “You sure you don’t want to leave your shoes on? You need every last inch to get the ball up high enough.”

  “Oh, it’s on now,” she said. Kelly dribbled the ball behind her back and went to the first position before knocking down her first shot.

  Cal shook his head. “Beginner’s luck.”

  “I’m not a beginner,” she said, moving to the next spot and making another shot.

  He stopped and looked around at the beautiful scenery. The Lee’s property abutted the Daniel Boone National Forest and was a true Kentucky treasure. He scanned the area and noticed a tree house located about fifty yards away. It was situated between two pine trees demarcating an unofficial entry into the forest.

  “Would you look at that?” Cal said.

  Kelly sank another shot. “Anything to distract you from the fact that you’re going to lose at Around the World, huh?” She giggled.

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said as he walked toward the woods.

  “Cal! Stop messing around. Get over here.”

  He just kept walking. “Look at that tree house.”

  “You’re insufferable,” she said as she tossed the ball aside and went after him. A few seconds later, she caught up with him. “What are you doing?”

  “That tree house,” Cal said. “It’s— amazing. Let’s go up in it.”

  He took off running and Kelly followed after him. Once they reached the tree house, they both scurried up the rickety ladder.

  “Be careful for that step right there,” Cal yelled toward Kelly while pointing at it with his toes. “It’s not exactly sturdy.”

  “I hope it holds both of us,” she said.

  “If it doesn’t, I’m going to blame it on Steve’s Burgers and Brew.”

  “Always playing the victim, Cal.”

  “Oh, stop it. You know I’m kidding. But I’m not kidding about being careful on that last step. Got it?”

  Cal turned around and knelt down to offer Kelly his hand.

  “Who said chivalry was dead?” she said as she pulled up on him to reach the inside of the tree house.

  Both of them stared slack-jawed at the incredible views on both sides of the structure—one toward the wide open rolling hills, the other toward the thick vegetation in the forest.

  “This place is enchanting,” Kelly said.

  “Yeah, you don’t always get a chance to appreciate where you are sometimes until you have to stop.”

  Before either of them could say another word, a man began yelling at them from the Lee’s property. “What do you two think you’re doing? Get outta there now!”

  Just as they were about to climb down, Cal stopped, his eyes locking with a picture stuck to the tree house wall with a thumbtack. He handed his phone to Kelly. “Take a picture of that real quick.”

  She snapped the photo and handed it back to Cal.

  “Now, let’s get outta here before the McCoys and Hatfields start shooting.”

  They sprinted back to the car while the man continued to yell at them. Cal figured it was a hired hand of some sort, but he wasn’t going to stick around to find out. He reached down and snatched Kelly’s shoes off the driveway and dashed toward the car. It was all the extra time she needed to beat him to the car.

  “First!” she proclaimed with her fist in the air.

  “I wasn’t racing,” Cal said, fumbling for his keys.

  The man continued screaming at them until Cal turned the ignition and punched the gas pedal.

  When they reached the end of the driveway, he stopped the car and put it in park. He pulled his phone out and studied the picture. “Look at that, will ya?”

  Kelly studied the image on his phone for a few more moments and handed it back to him. “Is that who I think it is?”

  Call nodded. He took his phone back from her and dialed Tom Corliss’ number.

  “Can you do me a favor?” Cal asked. “I think I know who the killer is and you can help me prove it.”

  CHAPTER 24

  JUSTIN PALMER SLUMPED against the wall of the wooden shed about thirty yards north of the cabin. The hemp rope used to bind his hands together irritated his wrists, turning them red. Without a light bulb, the shed relied on the muted sunlight beaming in between the slats.

  Palmer scanned the room for something to help him untie the rope. If there was anything, he couldn’t see it. Nothing but a dirt floor in a shoddily built shack. The rain plunked on the tin roof, creating a rhythmic sound. After several hours, he grew tired of it all and started to panic.

  Frustrated, Palmer writhed on the ground, rolling against the walls of the shed. If he couldn’t knock it down, perhaps he could at least garner the attention of one of the guards outside—if there even was one. After several minutes of his insane act, Palmer heard the clanging of keys and the twisting of the lock that kept him imprisoned.

  He looked up. “Seth Reed?”

  Reed handed Palmer a glass of water. “Drink up. You’re going to be here a while.”

  “I can’t believe you’re a part of this.”

  Reed said nothing as he tapped his foot and waited for Palmer to finish.

  “I mean, I knew you were part of the in-crowd, but not this in,” Palmer said between gulps. “This is barbaric.”

  Still silent, Reed held out his hand for the empty cup. “Hurry up now. You’re going to have company.”

  “What? Company? What are you talking about?”

  “Quiet,” Reed said, stamping his foot. “Don’t ask any questions. It won’t go well with you if you keep demanding answers.”

  Palmer held up his chains. “Like this is going well.”

  Reed looked at his prisoner. “It can get worse. Trust me.”

  Moments later, another guard shoved someone else into the shed—arms and hands tied together as well. One more shove in the back sent the new prisoner sprawling across the dirt floor.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” the guard said before locking the door.

  Palmer stared at the person lying prostrate next to him. “What’d you do?”

  A faint grunt echoed off the dirt floor before the person slowly turned around.

>   “I’d shake your hand to welcome you—” He stopped and stared. It was Hannah Hartley.

  She grimaced as she looked up at him.

  “What happened to you?” he asked, staring at the abrasion oozing blood on her forehead. “And what are you doing here?”

  Hannah finally turned over onto her back and let out a deep breath. She struggled to sit up, leaning back on her elbows. “Not my finest hour,” she mumbled. “Or my brightest idea.”

  “Tell me about it,” Palmer said.

  She said nothing, closing her eyes and leaning her head back.

  “No, seriously, tell me about it. I’ve got nothing else to do and nowhere to go,” he said.

  She sighed. “Well, when you said you’d never heard of The Gentleman’s Club, I started thinking about it and decided I ought to check it out.”

  “For the record, I knew about it,” he piped in. “I’ve actually been out here before, but this makes twice that it hasn’t been a pleasant experience.”

  She shook her head. “I got caught last night snooping around and one of the guys threw me into the bed of his pickup truck. I thought I was going to drown with all that rain. Anyway, I guess he just woke up from his drunken stupor and remembered about me. And here I am.”

  Hair drenched and matted to the side of her head, Hannah wiped her face with her sleeve. She rolled over onto her back and moaned again.

  “Did they say anything to you?” Palmer asked.

  “Not much. Just that they had special plans for me tonight.”

  Palmer sat up. “This isn’t good. You gotta get outta here.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You obviously didn’t see anything last night while you were snooping around, did you?”

  “I saw a few stars when one of the Neanderthals kicked me in the face. That was just before he hit me in the back of the head with something hard that knocked me out.”

  “Look, I’m not gonna lie. It’s bad. You’ve gotta escape.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “What’s going to happen to me, Justin? Don’t dance around.”