River Rocks: A West Virginia Adventure Novel

by Steve Kittner

  Josh held it to get good light on it and opened up the bill section. Inside the bill area was something oblong and shiny and Josh repositioned the wallet, again to get better light. He squinted a bit and then slowly reached in to pull out what was in there. It was a nickel…flatter than a pancake. Josh looked at it as he held it up in front of his face, giving Eddie a good view of what he was holding.

  “No way!” Eddie said.

  Burl Otis grinned a bit. “It’s the one you boys couldn’t find.”

  Josh smiled and shook his head, putting the coin back in the wallet. He then looked inside the wallet again to further inspect.

  “Oh, that’s all that’s in there,” Burl said. “Anything else has been stripped out of there over the years. Most of it probably taken by Franklin that night. He stripped it of anything valuable and left it at the scene to incriminate Art Otis as the sole train robber. Keep the nickel too, it’s yours.”

  “So, where did the story about the “Southern Sympathizers” come from? The old newspaper articles that we found said it was a band of old Confederates just trying to get their gold back, or something,” Eddie asked.

  “Well, it was an old Confederate trying to get his gold back, that’s for sure. It just wasn’t a band of them. That’s just fabricated by the press. The law had to have somebody to blame and the press had to have something to write about,” Burl said. “The newspaper guys were more right than they thought, actually.” He paused. “But they never really knew. Never had a clue. Art Otis and Clyde Franklin pulled off that train robbery cleaner than a whistle. Everything went their way that night.” He paused and looked back over at the fire the flames flickering in his dark eyes once again. “But it didn’t end up well for my great-granddad. He would have never robbed a train and then just disappeared to go live somewhere else. This was his home. This was his cabin. The Otis homestead and the mountain.” Burl spread his arms with his palms up when he said it. “He raised a family here. It just gets a little hard to pay the taxes when all you do for money is fur trapping. He did put out some ginseng plants late in life but they take years before you can harvest them. Good money in ginseng, but I don’t think he reaped the benefits for too many years. He was just a desperate man trying to keep his family in his family home!”

  Josh tilted his head a little and looked at Burl, closing up the wallet and handing it back. “What do you think happened after they got the gold off the train?”

  “I’ll tell ya what happened.” He paused and looked up at some old Otis artifacts on the wall. The axe. The buck saw. And then down at the wallet. “Clyde Franklin killed Arthur Otis in cold blood that night.”

  A bit of attitude was in his eyes when he said it. It was in his voice, too. He drew a deep breath and walked over to the table and picked up a large, oblong platter. He then stepped over to the fireplace and pulled the skewered rabbit off the fire and placed it on the platter. He slowly walked the platter back over to the table, his heavy footsteps making the boards creak under his feet as he composed himself. He lit a lamp that hung on the wall by the table.

  “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they killed five other men that night and I don’t mean to say that was right or anything, but Franklin just absolutely doublecrossed Art Otis the worst way you can,” he said, “and I am convinced… that was his plan all along. Ever since the first night at the Cross Roads Tavern, Franklin planned to have Great-granddad help him steal the gold, and then kill him. Who’s gonna miss an old mountain man, anyway? And then he tossed his wallet on the tracks. It wasn’t found in the weeds or down by the river. No. It was found right in front of the cowcatcher on the train, right between the rails! And…it instantly made Art Otis a guilty man and the source of their manhunt, like I told you.”

  The boys were awestruck. There was dead silence in the cabin, except for the crackling of the fire, as they tried to absorb all the information. It was a solemn moment.

  “What do you think he did with him? With the body,” Josh asked quietly, not wanting to ask something that was less than appropriate.

  Burl shook his head. “I don’t know. These hills are dense. He coulda’ taken him anywhere. I have been walkin’ ‘em for years and have found no clues as to the whereabouts of Art Otis and he was a big man, too. How far could he drag him? And I know these hills like nobody else, ya know.” He thought for a moment. “There was so much gold, too. Easily enough for two people; it was senseless for Franklin to want it all for himself.”

  Burl Otis walked back over to the fire with another plate and pulled the huge potatoes out of the hot coals with his calloused bare hands. Josh glanced at Eddie. Eddie's eyebrows went up. Tough dude.

  Josh appeared to be in thought for a second and then said, “Mr. Otis, you seem like…well… the Sheriff told us that we should stay away from you and that you were nasty and a….uugh…umm”

  “What, a moonshiner?” Otis chuckled a little. “And a nasty old man?”

  “Well, that’s what he said. He said your family has been running shine up here for decades, but I mean, it don’t matter, I just...”

  “Yeah…I know what Collins says about me and my family. He’s been saying it for years.” Burl Otis spread his hands out wide. “Feel free to look around and…”

  “No, no, no, I didn’t mean that I believed him. I just can’t figure why he would say those kinds of things if they weren’t true.”

  “It’s true,” Eddie said, thinking. “He’s a Sheriff. He has sort of an obligation to the truth. There are laws against spreading lies about people.”

  Burl Otis went over to a cabinet and pulled out a long loaf of unsliced bread and laid it on the table along with a long, sharp knife. He then pulled three clean plates out of another cabinet and placed them on the table with silverware and clean hand towels for napkins. He walked over to the stove and pulled a medium-sized simmering pan off the fire. Fresh green beans with a big hunk of salt pork meat. He sat it on the table on top of a square piece of wood to bear the heat.

  “You’re right. He does have an obligation to be truthful.” He paused. “Come and eat, there’s more to the story.”

  Burl’s table was a heavy-duty picnic style table with benches down each side of it. It had sat in the same exact spot over the years and was an original “Otis” piece. It had been stained to a dark color and showed the scars of many years of use. Initials of mischievous Otis boys were carved into the seats that dated back a hundred years.

  Burl Otis said a simple man’s prayer, poured the remaining glaze over the hare and then dinner was served. Josh pulled a hindquarter off and helped himself to a potato, a huge scoop of beans, and a hunk of crusty bread. Eddie did the same but opted for the tenderloin portion of the rabbit, the most tender and tasty portion of the animal.

  They dug in.

  Both boys were amazed. It was delicious! The apple jelly and spice glaze was awesome. The real butter that ran over the potato was super sweet. Nothing had ever tasted better to the two hungry adventurers.

  The first few bites of the meal were eaten in silence. A sign of good cooking. After a bit, Eddie slowed down enough to ask, “So, why would Sheriff Collins spread rumors like that, Mr. Otis?”

  Burl Otis thought for a moment and stared deeply into the fire that was burning tall across the room and then spoke in his deep tone once again, slowly and softly.

  “He speaks this way about me and my family because…he knows.”

  Josh and Eddie stopped eating and looked at him as he stared off, as if in a trance.

  “He knows what?” Josh asked, equally as quiet.

  There was a pause and silence once again filled the room.

  “Sheriff Collins’ mother…”

  The boys listened harder. He looked over from the fire and right into each boy’s eyes.

  He said it slowly, “…Elizabeth…Franklin.”

  Josh’s fork hit his plate.

  Burl continued, “Sheriff Collins knows almost every bit as much as I do about the lege
nd. It has been handed down through his family, too. He knows about the milk can and the scroll. He knows how his great-grandfather and mine conspired and he also knows that Clyde Franklin killed Arthur Otis, although he probably won’t admit it. He knows the answers to the whereabouts of the gold are hidden with the document in the milk can. He has been after it for years…we all have and then, all of the sudden…it just pops up! Thank goodness you boys have it.” Otis took another bite.

  Josh and Eddie looked at each other with great concern. Burl Otis picked up on the fact that something was wrong and his eyebrows dropped and his head cocked slightly to one side.

  “We had it,” Eddie said as he looked at the floor.

  “Somebody took it out of the can in the garage,” Josh added. “We did make a copy, though.”

  “Ooohh.” Burl let out a deep breath, blowing it through his pursed lips. “Do you have it with you? The copy?”

  “Yeah. In my bag.”

  “We’re gonna have to study it and see what we can decipher.” Burl said.

  Burl thought for a minute, trying to figure out who would know about the deer hide in the garage. “Who else knows about it?”

  Josh replied, counting on his fingers, “Me, Eddie, You, our friend Giselle, and her boss at the Library.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Elton Mansfield.”

  Burl thought for a moment. “Hmm. Never heard of him. How did he see it?”

  “I dropped a copy of the map when we were at the library looking stuff up and he found it later.”

  “He didn’t give it back?”

  “No, he kept it.”

  “That’s strange. Hmm. Nobody else? Is that all the people who know about it? Mom? Dad? Sisters…anyone?”

  “No, that’s all. Just five of us,” Josh said, as he went into thought.

  “It’s a pretty small circle of people. I mean, we can rule out Me, Josh and you right off the bat. That only leaves Giselle and Mansfield. I am positive that Giselle wouldn’t have taken it and I am sure, also, that she didn’t tell anyone.” While Eddie was talking, Josh was thinking.

  Burl Otis thought for a second and then raised his eyebrows a bit. “Well, that just leaves Mansfield, then. He’s the only one who could have broken into the garage and taken it. But the question is; Why? Who is he and why would he do it? After all, he already had a copy of it, right? It doesn’t make any sense even.”

  Josh was in a straight-ahead stare, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular, his turn to be in a trance, and he had a facial expression that said I know who took it.

  “The garage wasn’t broken into,” he said in monotone. “The person who took it walked right through our garage, saw it and walked right off with it.”

  “Who?” Burl asked.

  Eddie thought for a second, let out a big sigh and put his head in his hands, for he knew who it was, too. The worst case scenario had occurred. “Oh man!”

  Josh said slowly, “Sheriff Collins.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Oh, well, that’s not the best thing that could have happened,” Burl Otis grumbled. “He will get busy trying to figure things out, you can bet on that. Collins has been so obsessed, and now that he has the map, he will be up twenty-four hours a day deciphering it.”

  I’m gonna make a quick call,” Josh said.

  “Who ya calling?” Eddie asked.

  “Giselle,” he replied. “I think we need to know more about Mansfield. Who is he and why is he holding our copy, knowing that it’s ours? Also she can look up the Collins/Franklin connection and see if there is any past dirt on him.”

  “Maybe so,” Burl said. “He is really, really obsessed with it. The whole story is in his family too, ya gotta remember. I don’t know if he has been on the outside of the law but…”

  “He was outside the law when he took the deer hide out of my garage,” Josh replied. “And being obsessed is one thing, but spreading lies about someone else’s family…it doesn’t make sense. There has to be more to it.”

  “Well, you’re right about that, and your friend can look it up, but I really don’t think there will be much to find. I do have a hunch about that Mansfield guy, though. He seems peculiar, keeping your copy like that.” Burl sat up a little straighter in his chair. “What I think we need to do is study the copy that you still have. We need more information.”

  “It’s in your pack, Eddie. I’ll get my phone and the copy.”

  Burl looked at Eddie. “How accurately did you boys copy that document?”

  “Letter for letter,” Eddie said. “There was even a little drawing at the bottom of it. We traced that line for line. Everything is just like it is on the original.”

  “What was the drawing?” Burl asked.

  “We weren’t sure, just a little sketch of some kind. Maybe you will get something out of it, I don’t know.” Eddie shrugged.

  Josh returned to the table with his cell phone and the yellow copy of the deer-hide document.

  The detectives began their work.

  Eddie opened the yellow copy while Josh tapped out seven numbers on the cell phone. Burl Otis looked down on the cell phone as if it were from Mars. Technology was nothing that interested him. He figured that all these gadgets that were invented to simplify lives had done nothing but complicated most people, and had added a hundred digits to their stress level every time the blasted things failed. You get used to having weather radar on your telephone in your pocket and suddenly you can’t do without it. Heaven forbid it fails when you feel a sprinkle outside. No sir. Burl Otis liked things simple. He could feel the weather anyway. He had a bad knee that could predict a low pressure system two days away.

  Giselle O’Conner’s phone sang out a dance mix of the B-52’s Loveshack and she answered within the first couple of bars.

  “Hello.”

  “Giselle, it’s Josh.”

  “Hey, you guys made it up there?”

  “Yeah…long story. I’ll tell ya more later. Did you find anything out about Mansfield?”

  “Really no, just that they have been in the area for about a hundred and fifty years, but that’s all. I did a general search on the Mansfield name in this area and, ya know, nothing weird turned up.”

  “Ok.”

  “Yeah…I don’t know what’s going on with him other than just one thing. Elton Mansfield had a great-great grandfather by the name of Edmund who was killed by a gunshot only three months after the date of the train robbery. It was in a newspaper article that I pulled off of the archives. The killer, again, was never found and no clues were left behind. I thought it was interesting that the dates were so close but maybe it’s just coincidence.”

  “Hmm…”

  “Hey, what did you guys learn?”

  “Oh man, a lot. For one thing Sheriff Collins is directly related to a man named Clyde Franklin, a man who Mr. Otis believes helped his great-grandfather rob the train.”

  “No way! Are you kidding?”

  “Nope.”

  “Wow, Collins must know a bunch of facts about this, too. No wonder he’s acting so weird.”

  “He does know a lot about the legend. In fact he knows about as much as Mr. Otis. The Franklin family, including Sheriff Collins, has been trying to figure this thing out for generations. The story keeps getting handed down from one generation to the next and I guess we hit the mother load of clues when we found the thing in the red can,” Josh said.

  “What about the document? Did you guys study it yet with Mr. Otis?”

  “Just getting to that. But, oh, bad news about the deer-hide too. It is missing from my garage and we figured out that it was Collins who took it after visiting me and my parents the other day. He left through the garage and took it.”

  “He stole it from you? I can’t believe that guy!”

  “Yeah, it stinks but we still have the good copy that we made. Hey, you should see this cabin!” Josh said, looking around the inside of the beautiful log structure. “It
’s really cool.”

  “OK. So we have nothing on Mansfield still, maybe he’s just curious about what we are doing and not involved at all, and we now know that the Sheriff is related to one of the suspects in the train robbery.”

  “Mr. Otis also believes that Clyde Franklin murdered Arthur Otis, his great-grandfather, that night after the robbery to keep all the gold for himself, and then tossed his wallet in front of the train so that it would be found, ya know, on purpose, and then it would look like only Arthur Otis pulled this off by himself and simply dropped his wallet accidentally in all the commotion.”

  “Wow. Does he have anything to back that up? I mean, the only way to prove that is to find the remains of his body. And that’s not likely!”

  “No, it’s just legend but he is pretty convinced and it all makes sense, too. He has a lot of other facts, it seems.”

  “Hmm,” Giselle hummed, processing all the information.

  “I just wanted to call and fill you in and see if you had anything on Mansfield. We are gonna dive into this document now with Mr. Otis and see what we can figure out. It’s gettin’ exciting!”

  “Yeah…I guess!” she agreed. “Oh, I got your message, too, about Radcliffe and the raft thing. I can’t believe you guys did that. Be careful with him, he could be just using you.” She paused. “ Listen, I’m sitting here by the computer so if there is anything that I can look up or search, give me a call.”

  “Yeah, we will.” Josh loved hearing this girl say give me a call.

  “Alright, see ya.”

  “Bye.”

  Burl Otis and Eddie had the yellow legal pad copy of the document unfolded on the old Otis table as Burl slipped on a pair of reading glasses.

  Burl looked up and down the paper as he began taking it all in, looking first at the broken sentences and then the drawing.

  Whe-- -teel --r--s r-n