The Secrets of Taylor Creek

by Michael Merson

  Rose decided that nothing could be done about it now, so she turned her thoughts to California and what she would do when she got there. Hollywood was Rose’s plan, and Hollywood was calling for women like her. She dreamt of being the next Dorothy Dandridge. She believed that she favored the actress with her light skin and beauty. Rose, like many of the other girls at the social, was biracial with a black mother and white father.

  Rose’s mother had run away from her father and her when Rose was five years old, and her father never got over it. Rose believed that’s what drove her father to drink. Clyde knew that some people in town talked about him and his ‘mulatto’ daughter, but he didn’t care. Rose knew that her father loved her no matter how people looked at them.

  Rose was imagining herself in the lead role of a Hollywood movie when she heard and saw the lights of a car approaching from behind.

  “A ride!” She said out loud and then moved off the road, stood in the dirt, and waited for the car to pull alongside.

  She placed her hand out, making a fist with her thumb in the air. The car came to a stop next to her, and the driver leaned over and opened the passenger door.

  “Hey, baby. Didn’t I see you at the Social?” She asked as she got in and sat down.

  The driver pressed the accelerator, and the two were soon heading toward town. The driver looked over at Rose and smiled. Rose knew what he was thinking, and she slid over closer to him. She placed her hand on his thigh and rubbed it.

  “You got any money that you want to spend?” She asked.

  The driver reached into his pocket and quickly pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her.

  “Why don’t you pull over somewhere private and I can give you what you want.”

  Once the car was off the main road and down a dark backroad, the driver stopped, placed the vehicle in park and turned the motor off. Rose thought that he looked nervous, so she leaned over and caressed his chest and kissed his neck. He closed his eyes and turned toward her. Rose leaned back and pulled her dress down, exposing her ample breast.

  “For twenty dollars, you can pretty much do anything you want with me,” she said as she pulled her dress up over her waist and then leaned over toward him. He placed his right hand over her shoulder, held the back of her neck, and pulled her into him for a kiss.

  “No, baby. I don’t kiss on the lips,” she whispered and tried to pull away.

  He increased his grip, overpowering her as he pulled her closer to him while she struggled to release herself from his grasp.

  “No! I don’t do that!” She screamed as she pushed against his chest with both of her hands.

  “Why are you doing this?” She asked just as he pulled his knife and held it in his left hand for her to see it shine in the light of the full moon.

  “No, please don’t!” She screamed right before he plunged the knife deep into her abdomen just below her breast. He looked into her eyes and pulled her into him and kissed her lips, and as she gasped for her last breath, he pushed the knife upward deep into her heart.

  Rose’s body went limp, and he laid her back in the passenger seat. He held her up with his right arm while he caressed and kissed her breast. He was mesmerized by her delicate features and womanly figure. He reached down with his left hand and cupped her buttocks and drew her closer and then kissed her lips once more.

  On the main road, a car drove up and then back down the highway. Clyde Melton drove along the dark road looking for his daughter, Rose. He was sure he would find her walking along the highway somewhere just as he had done the other times. Clyde knew that he had messed up by not being at the end of the driveway when she left the social, but he had passed out earlier in the evening, and when he finally awoke, he was already late. He knew he would have hell to pay when he found her, but right now all he wanted to do was find his Rose. She was his life and the only person who really cared about what happened to him.

  Chapter 11

  Nathan drove over to the Beaufort Southern Baptist Community Church once he left the Sheriff’s Office. He sped down the back-country roads and parked in the woods a few times and waited to see if anyone was following him before driving to the church.

  When he arrived, he noticed a burned cross in the front yard. He quickly walked in through the front door and announced himself. Looking around, he saw that the church had been vandalized. There were broken windows, and the walls had racist slurs and markings on them.

  “Nathan!” Preacher yelled from the back.

  “You okay?” Nathan asked as he walked toward him.

  “Yes,” Preacher answered as he carried two cans of paint to the sanctuary followed by an army of church members who also carried paint cans and brushes.

  “What happened?”

  “The 4th of July I imagine!”

  “The 4th of July?” Nathan asked with a questioned look.

  “Yeah, in the past, some drunk Klan members have come by on the evening of the 4th to remind us that the 4th of July is their celebration. They hadn’t done this in about four years. I guess they figured it was time to remind us.”

  “I don’t think that’s the message they were delivering. Look,” Nathan said as he pointed at one of the writings on the wall.

  “Don’t talk to strangers nigger!”

  “Let’s talk outside,” Preacher said.

  “There’s something I need to tell you,” Nathan said in a low voice.

  “What is it, Nathan?”

  “I’m here alone. The FBI is not investigating this yet. I’ll need a lot more information about the girls and some evidence.”

  “I understand. We’re used to it,” Preacher acknowledged as his sons walked up.

  “You’ve got two fine-looking young men here,” Nathan said.

  “I believe they are but getting them to do their chores during these long summer days is getting to be difficult. I think they spend more time fishing and scouring Taylor Creek for treasure than anything else.”

  “Treasure?” Nathan remarked as he looked at the boys.

  “Yes, legend has it that Blackbeard buried treasure around these parts and my boys spend a lot of their time looking for it.”

  “We’ll find it one day too,” Samuel announced.

  “Well, why don’t you two start by looking for it inside those paint cans while you help the others.”

  “Okay Pops,” Willie said as he and Samuel walked inside the church.

  “Were you able to contact any one of the girls’ families?”

  “Yes, I convinced Iris Snipes, the mother of Delia Snipes, to meet you at the church after services on Wednesday. Rose’s father, Clyde Melton, killed himself after Rose’s body was found.”

  “What about Ida Freeman?”

  “After last night everyone’s afraid. You gotta understand that after this is all over, you’ll leave and everyone else stays. Including friends of the person who is responsible for the killings. And besides, I think someone may have gotten to folks before I did.”

  “Can you try to convince them to speak with me anyway?”

  “I’ll try.”

  “In the meantime, do you think you can help me find anyone who found the bodies? There’s no mention of anyone in the reports the sheriff gave me, but someone had to find them.”

  “Yes, you mean George Butler and Abe Bettis. They found Rose Melton.”

  “Do you know them?”

  “Small town Agent Emerson. Both of those men are members of this congregation, even if I only see them on Christmas and Easter. They both work for Rhett Jenkins at his dock where they unload fishing boats for him.”

  “Do you think they’ll speak to me?”

  “Probably not if you just showed up. I’ll get word to them that it’s okay to speak to you. I’ll let you know when I hear from them.”

  “Do you know who found Ida? Sheriff Carter said in his report that it was an anonymous caller who made his office aware of a body floating in Harlowe Creek.”

 
; “No, ain’t nobody said anything about who found Ida as far as I know, but I’ll ask some folks.”

  “Okay. I’ll check around too. I’ll see you later,” Nathan said as he started back to his car.

  “Yeah, see you later,” Preacher said, as he began to have second thoughts about contacting the FBI. He shook his head and walked back inside to help clean up the mess.

  ***

  Stormie was on her hands and knees pouring dirt and mulch into a pot for new flowers that she planned to hang from the porch. If she wasn’t taking pictures, she was planting flowers, and if she wasn’t planting flowers, then she was taking pictures of flowers.

  “You workin’ yourself to death on those flowers, Mrs. Stormie. C’mon up here and eat somethin’” Sissy said as she walked out of the house carrying a tray with a glass of sweet tea and a ham sandwich. Sissy was the closest person that Stormie had to family. She practically raised Stormie after her mother passed away. Sissy was the one person that Stormie could count on in her life. Sissy always made sure that her Stormie was taken care of no matter what the cost.

  “Hard work is good for the soul,” Stormie declared.

  “I don’t know about that, but hard work is hard work, and you’d be lucky to get anything to grow in this sea-salted soil around here.”

  “Sissy, in the immortal words of Thomas Jefferson, I’m a great believer in luck, and I find the harder I work, the more I have of it.”

  “Wells I don’t know much about Mr. Jefferson but I ain’t found no work that led to luck. I’ve been working hard at it, but no such luck. Especially when it comes to finding a man!”

  “Well, havin’ a man ain’t all that great. I’m here to tell you,” Stormie responded.

  “That reminds me. Will Mr. Arrington be joining you for dinner tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Would you be a dear and call his office and ask Ms. Emma Rodgers if my husband is planning on havin’ dinner at home with his wife or in town with his whore?”

  “Surely, I will not! I guarantee you ‘ll never ask her such a thing. Your daddy always told me that I need to keep my mouth shut if I ain’t got nothin’ nice to say.”

  “Well, you can ask her any way you like, but please make the call for me because I’m sure I wouldn’t be as delicate as you.”

  “If he decides to eat here, what shall I make for dinner?”

  “Fried fish with hush puppies and collard greens sounds wonderful.”

  “Mr. Arrington hates fried fish and collard greens.”

  “Yes, I know that.”

  “Mrs. Stormie, I don’t know about you sometimes.”

  ***

  It was four-thirty when Preacher called Nathan and told him that he had contacted George and Otis and they had agreed to speak to him. He also said to him that he couldn’t find anyone who knew anything about Ida Freeman. He did, however, provide him with Ida’s home address. After the phone call, Nathan rushed over to the docks only to discover that the two men had already left for the day. Instead of going back to the room, Nathan made his way over to Bo’s Diner. He found a booth next to the window that gave him a view of the courthouse across the street.

  From the window, Nathan saw Judge Ridge, the Sheriff, and Walters talking in front of the courthouse. How nice it would be to know what they were talking about, he thought to himself. The Sheriff appeared to do most of the talking until a large colored man walked up and stood behind the judge.

  ***

  “Now listen to me, Amos. I do not, I repeat I do not, want to find any dirt in the corners of my chambers anymore where you been sweeping it. My job in the courthouse is to sit on the bench and make very important decisions, and your job in the courthouse is to sweep the damn floors. Now I do my job with a sense of pride every damn day, and I want you to do your job the same way, with pride! The job does not matter; it’s how one does it! Do you understand me, boy?” Judge Ridge lectured to the large man standing in front of him. Amos was the courthouse custodian, and Judge Ridge took every opportunity to belittle him and berate him, especially when there was an audience.

  “Yes, sir, I do. It be a better job from now on,” Amos answered. Amos always did what he was told, never talked back, and kept to his own.

  “With pride.”

  “With pride,” Amos repeated.

  “Well go on, boy. Get your ass in there and get it done. I ain’t got all day to be telling you how to do your job.”

  Amos quickly jogged back into the courthouse as Judge Ridge turned his attention to the sheriff.

  “That big nigger still doesn’t understand a damn word you said. He doesn’t know anything about pride or much of anything else,” Sheriff Carter declared.

  “He understands, now tell me what that FBI man was up to today,” Judge Ridge ordered.

  “I don’t know what he did this morning, but he went by the docks to speak to George and Otis. He was surprised to find that they’d already left for the day. I made sure of that. Now he’s over at the diner there eating his dinner,” Sheriff Carter explained and nodded in the direction of the diner.

  “Do those two boys know anything?” Ridge asked.

  “They found the Snipes girl and called it in. All they know is that.”

  “Still, you better keep an eye on him and them.”

  “I will, but for now I’m going home to eat.”

  “All right, well then Jack, you keep an eye on him until he goes to bed.”

  “I have plans,” Jack stated.

  “I don’t give a damn what you’ve planned. You do as I tell you. Understand? Besides its just one night,” the Judge explained.

  “Fine,” Jack said as he walked away.

  ***

  Nathan watched as the men stood and talked for a few minutes and then walked away in separate directions. He ate his dinner and then made his way back to his room. In his room, Nathan read over the case files that the sheriff had given him. The files contained nothing more than what he already had. His eyes began to get heavy as he turned his attention to the television to watch Johnny Carson.

  After a few minutes, he stood and walked over to the television; turned it and the light off. He then slowly made his way over to the window. Looking outside, he saw Jack Walters standing under the light pole. He caught Jack following him from the diner earlier and decided that Jack knew nothing about tailing someone. Jack stood there for about twenty more minutes before leaving the area. Nathan moved across the room and checked the door lock before lying down for the night. He turned the radio on and listened to the song Hold me, Thrill me, Kiss me as he fell asleep thinking of Stormie Arrington.

  Chapter 12

  Tuesday, July 6, 1965

  Stormie was sitting at the breakfast table when Ben came downstairs to join her. He sat down and started reading the paper while sipping the coffee that Sissy had poured for him when she heard him coming down the stairs.

  “Will you be home for dinner tonight? It would be nice to know so Sissy can put something out that you like. It did not appear that you enjoyed your dinner last night.”

  “Well, I’m sure I’ve voiced my dislike for fried fish and collard greens in the past to you and Sissy, but somehow it still makes its way to my plate. It does give the impression that there was a conspiracy of sorts amidst.”

  “Well, my dear husband, you so seldom make it home that Sissy and I don’t know when you’re gonna grace us with your presence for supper. Sissy did call your receptionist and asked her if you would be home, but she said she didn’t know. So, I took it upon myself to have Sissy make one of my favorite meals for supper. Maybe we can avoid this in the future if you could give us a little advanced notice on whether you’ll be coming home or not.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea, but in my line of work I sometimes don’t know if I’m gonna make it home in time for supper.”

  “Well, shut my mouth, I was unaware of the crime spree that has apparently overtaken Beaufort. Is there a gang of robbers and thieves running ram
pant? There must be. Why else would the town sheriff, the public defender, the judge, the county prosecutor, and the prosecutor’s secretary, be working through dinner these nights? Tell me, Ben, is it safe to go out at night?” Stormie said as she sat straight up in her chair, looking around in all directions.

  “Sissy make sure you lock up the house whenever you leave. We wouldn’t want to be one of the many victims to the apparent crime spree overtaking Beaufort!” Stormie said loudly with a very sarcastic tone. Sissy did not answer, and she knew to just stay in the kitchen, minding her own business, even if she did enjoy Stormie’s performance.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve had someone watching me,” Ben said as he laid the paper down.

  “No dear, I simply made conversation with a handsome stranger who was visiting our town, who by the way, ran into you and the other scoundrels at the Judges’ place the other evening.”

  “Well, what did you and the FBI man talk about?”

  “FBI? I didn’t know he was an FBI agent. I think we discussed the weather; I do believe.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Nothin’… Oh, wait… I think we agreed that it was hot that day. After all, what could a lonely housewife like me tell a good lookin’ FBI man like him anyway? You seem nervous Ben. You got something to be nervous about?”

  “Not at all, my dear. And you’re right; you’ve got nothin’ to tell him. Unless he asks you about pictures and flowers of course,” Ben said as he stood to leave.

  “That’s right Ben, but if I did have something to tell him you can be sure I would.”

  “Just stay away from him! I don’t want anything to do with his business here in town.”

  “Don’t worry, I won’t go looking for him, but if he should find me, I’ll surely extend the customary southern hospitality that any true southern woman would!”