by Janet Cooper
Taking Delilah’s arm, Mary guided her toward the door. “We promise when we learn something about the Pinckneys, we’ll get in touch with you. And again, we’re very sorry about your loss.”
Pulling a card from the side pocket of her red briefcase, she said, “Thank you.”
Mary and Taylor watched her get into her small sedan and drive away.
“At least I know where Rod spent his twice annual vacations,” Taylor said. “He probably went there shortly before the …wedding for that long weekend of fishing.”
Mary squeezed Taylor’s arm. “Wonder why he never told you about his place in Bayou?” She gave her a puzzled look.
“Or why he didn’t introduce me to Sam/Bubba? What other secrets did he have? We should share Delilah’s story with Dad and Jeff.”
“I’ll text Jeff, if you call Dad.”
“Why not invite them to a cookout?”
Taylor chuckled. “You and food.”
“Well, everyone has to eat.” She giggled.
*~*
As they sat having their coffee after dinner, Taylor remarked again, “I’m sorry I didn’t make a copy of Delilah’s picture of Sam and Rod. The resemblance was amazing!”
“I’ll ask the Sheriff to show me a copy.” Jeff took a sip of his coffee.
“I’d like to see that, too,” said Martin, easing his back against the cushion on the wrought-
iron chair.
“What’s the latest on Rod’s parents?” Mary asked. “Anything new?”
“Not that Leroy mentioned. He did tell me he’d called the Louisiana State Police and asked them to check the cottage in Bayou. They told him they’d do that in the next day or so. The town’s barely surviving, so there’s no local police department. Normally, the county sheriff’s department would do the checking, but their people are stretched so thin the State offered to go by and inspect the property on their regular patrol of the area.” Martin laughed. “Leroy always telling me that doctors’ protect their own. Now I have proof that police are just as bad.” He chuckled again.
Everyone stared at him.
“Seems like police don’t like to share information with other cops, whether it’s local, state or federal. So before he calls the Louisiana Troopers, he spoke to his cousin, Johnny Trotz, a local sheriff and asked who Leroy should speak to about getting a house checked. Johnny’s worked with Troopers several times in the past and will square it so everything can go forward.” He smiled, broadly.
“Wonder what Rod kept at the cabin?” Taylor asked.
“Guess the Sheriff’s curious, too. He decided to fly out and join the search. He’s hoping to find Rod’s current computer. The one we’ve examined latest entry is several years old. When you mentioned he went fishing in Bayou shortly before …” He flushed.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Taylor said, in a firm voice.
“The Sheriff’s hoping that he, for whatever reason, left or forgot his latest computer there. Wish he’d invited me. I’d love to see that hard drive.” Lifting a sugar-coated pecan from the dish, Jeff examined it and then popped the morsel in his mouth.
Martin took a small handful of the treats before saying, “Having a civilian with him might have complicated his situation even more.”
Jeff nodded his agreement.
“Have you discovered anything you can share?” Martin asked.
“Not really. We don’t have his cell. Although we’ve traced his past calls, but all we know is to whom he spoke to, not what was discussed.”
Taylor gestured with her hands and shrugged. “After talking to Delilah, I wonder how much I really knew about him or his business.”
“My curiosity’s aroused, too,” Mary said. “I never did trust him.” She stared at Taylor.
Martin looked at her. “We’re aware of your feelings, Mary,” he said, a gentle warning in his tone.
Pushing back her chair, Taylor excused herself and dashed into the house.
“Oh, Martin, I’m sorry.” She stood awkwardly. “I won’t hurt her for the world. She’s the child I never had.” Mary began to cry and Martin, who had also risen, held her in his arms to comfort her.
“I’ll see to Taylor.” Jeff pushed open the screen door and dashed in. He heard footsteps on the second floor and hurriedly followed. Before Taylor could close the door tightly, he eased inside. A second later he held her in his arms. “Don’t cry. Please.”
She sobbed a while longer; finally, a few hiccups ended her tears. Jeff refused to allow her to move away when she pushed against him. “Stay still, Tiny. Let me comfort you, please.”
Finally, he sensed her relaxing. Easing his hold, he led her to a club chair in the corner near the window took a seat and pulled her onto his lap. His arms tightened around her, but he refrained from speaking, wanting her to break the silence.
“Jeff, I’m so confused. I’m sure all couples have secrets, but his appear legion: the cottage in Louisiana, his friend, Sam, his computer, the money and land he received from our friends, even his parent’s whereabouts. Why didn’t he share these with me? Should I have asked?” She leaned back, slightly and peered at him.
“Why would you? Since everything you said is new to you, how could you have asked about things you knew nothing about?”
“Why didn’t he share?” Her eyes glistened with moisture.
“Taylor, Rod always had a secret side.”
“He did?” Her tone and her face showed her surprise.
Jeff nodded. “An example is his parents.”
She blinked back the unshed tears. “His parents?”
“He and his dad had a love/hate relationship. While I don’t believe Mr. Pinckney beat Rod physically, his sarcasms struck as hard.”
“About?”
“Everything and nothing,” Jeff thought for a few moments. “If Rod received a B on a report, his father expected an A. With football, if a pass of his was intercepted, his dad derided his ability. One day, after practice, his dad railed at him. Everyone had gone home. I was waiting for a ride. Don’t think either of them saw me. Rod grabbed his father by his shirt collar, shouted, and swore at him.” Remembering the scene vividly, Jeff said, “For a moment or two I considered breaking up the fight. When I’d almost made my decision to do so, Rod released his hold. His father could barely stand up. By this time, I was too embarrassed to show my face. Life’s tough and confusing for a junior in high school. Rod’s comment still rings in my head. He told his dad he would be really sorry if he every touched or said anything negative to him again.”
Her brow wrinkled. “Didn’t you and Rod have a disagreement right before the last game of that season?”
Jeff cleared his throat. How to tell her?
“Jeff?”
“His rough treatment of his dad concerned me, not for Mr. Pinckney, but for you.”
“Me?”
“You’d promise to go to the homecoming dance with him. Being sixteen, I decided to protect you.” He felt his ears redden. “I informed him if he ever hurt you, he would be sorry.”
“Why?”
“Anger’s hard to handle. In my mind, he had to know I knew about his discussion with his father.”
“That’s what ended your friendship?”
He nodded.
“And Rod’s relationship with his mother?”
“From what I remember, his mom spent her time working either inside the house or at her job. She never made an impression on me.”
“I do remember she didn’t attend his games,” Taylor said. “She came to his graduation, but refused our invitation to the party after the service.”
“Remember the whole school thought he’d attend Holden University on a football scholarship?”
She nodded.
“Turns out he didn’t get the scholarship.”
“That piece of info was on his computer. He wrote a nasty letter to them.”
“Wow!”
“If for most of your life, you had to watch everything you did
and protect yourself if something went wrong, having a secret life makes sense, I guess.”
“Mary!”
“What about Miss Mary?”
Suddenly, Taylor stood up. “She’s psychic and often senses things about people. Maybe that’s why she didn’t trust Rod, because of his secrets. Until tonight, she’d never shared her belief about not trusting him with me.” She began walking around the room.
“Yet, your father appeared to know her feelings.”
“You’re right. He did.” She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head as if trying to clear her mind. “I’m so confused.”
Jeff gently touched her shoulders. “Why don’t you start by going downstairs and talking to Miss Mary? She started crying as soon as you fled the porch.”
“Oh, no! She’s been such an important part of my life. Should I apologize?” Her voice showed her doubts.
“A simple, I love you, will probably be enough.”
As they walked side-by-side down the steps, touching shoulders, but not hands, Jeff whispered, “You can do this.”
Taylor and Jeff pushed open the screen door then stopped. Mary and Martin sat next to one another on the two-seated glider holding hands.
Her father jumped up. “Taylor, Jeff, we have an announcement. Mary and I intend to marry. Before either of you say anything, we’re not planning anything soon. Gossips would love that. In a few months, six at the most, we’ll have a quite ceremony here, with Father Mike officiating. Our attachment grew over the years. Neither of us spoke about our feelings. We believe we have a right to happiness together.” His last words sounded almost defensive.
“Indeed you do!” Taylor ran to them and hugged each in turn, starting with Mary. “I love you both. I’m glad you’re doing this. Who cares what people say?”
“We do!” they said in unison.
*~*
“What can I do for you, Sheriff?” Jeff strolled into the small, corner office with a small window directly behind a larger, oversize desk that almost occupied the entire room.
He gestured to a wooden arm chair that was probably new when the town was founded in 1711. “Sit down.”
Gently, he sat. Surprising, the chair appeared to mold to his frame and he began to relax.
“Did I mention I’d spoken to my cousin, Johnny Trotz?”
Jeff nodded.
“Heard back from him. He arranged with a Louisiana State Trooper …” He glanced over at his computer screen. “Name of Davies to meet me. Cousin Johnny worked with him several times. Says he’s a good guy. I head out tomorrow. Will bring back the computer if it’s there.”
“A copy of the hard drive will work, too,” said Jeff.
Both men rose and shook hands.
“Keep me informed.”
“Will do,” said Leroy.
Chapter Fourteen
Louisiana
Sheriff Trotz shifted his backpack higher on his left shoulder and walked toward two men standing at the entrance to the airport. Even if he hadn’t seen their photos, they stood out. Stretching out his thin, yet muscular right arm, he reached out to shake hands with the Louisiana State Troopers. “I’m Leroy Trotz, Sheriff of Beaufort.”
The taller of the two men grasped the offered hand. “Jim Davies.” He released his hold and pointed to the shorter man standing next to him. “My partner’s Ray Morris.” The latter shook the Sheriff’s hand. “Let’s head out to the car and we can talk as we drive.”
The three men headed for the door. “My info tells me the drive’s about two hours.” Sheriff Trotz said.
Ray, shorter and thinner than his six-foot six partner, opened the rear door for the Sheriff. “Near enough.”
“We received your request and after talking to your cousin, Johnny, our lieutenant told us to do what we could to help.” Jim slid into the car and removed his hat.
“I appreciate your help. Johnny mentioned you’d worked on several cases with him, but he didn’t share any stories.”
“We understand you’re looking for a computer?” Jim asked, not adding any information about what happened either.
The sheriff accepted the reluctance to discuss the investigations and went on to explain why he needed the computer or at least a copy of the hard drive.
Leroy liked the professionalism of the two men and mentally thanked his cousin for his help. He knew that without Johnny signing off on him, none of this would be happening. Police really don’t like other cops invading their territory. “One additional piece of info not in the file, because we only learned about it recently, concerns Samuel or Bubba LeFarge. He bears a strong resemblance to Rodney Pinckney.”
The State Troopers listened closely while the Sheriff spoke. They asked him a few questions and discussed the case until all three had the same information.
Davies’ partner filled Trotz in on what they were likely to find once they reached the farm.
“Sounds similar to the backcountry portion of the Lowcountry, rivers and creeks everywhere, lots of small farms and properties, not many people, but plenty of ‘gators and snakes,” Leroy stated, a smile showing in his voice.
“About right,” both men agreed and chuckled.
While driving, each man had shared information and a few tales about their years as policemen. Since Leroy had no authority, he would observe and not act. Obviously, after twenty-five years, Jim approached any unknown area cautiously, which pleased the sheriff since he would do the same if positions were reversed.
Two hours and five minutes after leaving the airport, Jim Davies turned onto a dirt road, almost totally hidden by forty plus feet Loblolly pines, huge wax myrtle bushes that resembled trees, and various types of vines that overlay everything. No sign greeted them at the entrance. For the next five minutes the patrol car rocked and rolled in and out of small ditches that bore little similarity to any path. Davies steered the vehicle carefully avoiding the deep ruts which lined the so-called drive and kept the car away from the trees that threatened to encompasses them.
“Looks like home?” Ray teased the sheriff.
“Yep! Or at least the way most of the county was twenty years ago. Don’t get me wrong, we could find a duplicate of this scene in certain areas even today.”
“Oh, the joys of civilization: drugs, gun runners, poachers,” Jim added.
The three men laughed.
Shadows gave way to light as the patrol car edged closer to an open area. They stopped before the vehicle left the tree line.
“Nice view of the river.” State Trooper Jim Davies turned off the engine and uncurled his body from the front seat.
The Sheriff noticed Davies had purposely left the Ford in the middle of the narrow road.
“Hear the fishin’ not bad on this creek, either,” replied Davis’ long-time partner as he strolled to the front of the patrol car.
Jim held up a finger signaling silence and then checked the area. Instantly the mood changed. The two State Troopers became one in their reactions, almost mirroring one another, making words unnecessary.
Sheriff Trotz stayed behind and in the middle between them. Following his normal procedure when working with men he didn’t know, he took up an auxiliary spot, one giving him a view of the area, yet not interfering with the primary investigator or his companion.
At the end of the dirt road a small, log cabin with what appeared to be a wrap-around porch faced the water in typical Southern style. The side, closest to the road and the men, contained two small windows, a door and a few steps leading up to the rear entrance; the building appeared in good shape. Off to the left almost totally hidden by a thick clump of bald cypress trees stood a barnlike structure, definitely not in pristine condition. To the right, a shed probably used to store small garden supplies, fishing equipment, etc.
Jim glanced at his side-kick, who pointed to each of the structures in turn, and then gestured to an area hidden from view point. He moved to the right quietly to see what had caught his partner’s attention. Sheriff
Trotz shifted slightly, also, hoping to view what caught the Trooper’s eye.
To the left of the shed and partially obscured from their observation position, an old, faded, red truck rested. Jim motioned to his partner and Leroy to edge back toward the police car. Once there, he spoke very softly, “Sheriff, stay here. Ray and I will check out the cottage. If something happens, get on the radio and call for backup. If things really hit the fan, I’ve a Glock under the front seat.”
Leroy nodded. He really wanted to go with them, but understood Jim’s reasoning.
“Ray, check out the truck keeping close to the right side of the clearing. I’ll approach the house via the left side, staying near the trees and the barn. After you give me the all clear regarding the truck, and I’ve reached the shelter of the barn, we’ll move to the house. You take the front door, nearest the river; I’ll handle the back. I’ll call out ‘Police’, wait a couple of minutes, call again and threaten to kick in the door. If there’s no response, I’ll smash the door. When you hear my kick, you match it with one on the front.”
“Got it,” said Ray.
The sheriff watched the two men closely. Each followed the plan exactly. Jim signaled and they moved as a unit toward the cottage. Minutes later, Leroy heard, “Police. Open the door, now.”
He tensed. A few minutes passed before the door opened. A tall, well-proportioned man stood in the doorway. Back light prevented Leroy from seeing any features. He forced himself to stay with the vehicle and wait for the all clear when Jim called, “Ray, the front door’s unlocked, check the house, while I keep Mr. LeFarge company.”
LeFarge? Delilah said her parents were dead. And DNA identified her brother, so who’s this? Leroy could scarcely contain his curiosity. Dang, I want a piece of this.
After what seemed to be hours, but in reality was only ten minutes, according to his watch, he heard his name.
“Sheriff, come listen to this story.”
The State troopers stood one on either side of the man in the doorway. As Leroy drew nearer the cottage, his eyes opened wide. “Holy Crap! Rod Pinckney! I never …”
