Fogbound: A Lin Hanna Mystery

by Sharon Canipe

  Sue was a few feet in front of Lin. Sometimes Lin could barely see her as she moved into the thicker trees. Lin followed as closely as she could. The going here was a bit rougher. Finally, they seemed to emerge into an area of tall trees where the forest floor was a bit clearer and easier to navigate and the fog seemed to lift just a bit. They paused to rest a moment and looked around.

  “Look over there, what’s going on in that area?” Sue pointed toward an area in front of them where, although the fog made it difficult to see, it appeared someone had been digging. Even though they seemed to be alone, Sue spoke in a whisper. Together they approached the spot she’d indicated.

  The forest floor in that area was covered with dense patches of a green plant. The plant had broad leaves composed of multiple leaflets. Lin didn’t recognize the plant but noted that it was spread throughout the area like a ground cover. The plants covered an area that appeared to be at least twenty feet square but there were several patches of bare earth scattered among the growth. These were totally bare and the earth was disturbed—someone had been digging there.

  “These bare patches are too regular to have occurred naturally,” Lin commented.

  “Yes, it’s clear someone has been digging here,” Sue replied, as she looked further into the woods, beyond the place where they stood. “There’s something over there in that thicker brush.” She moved forward to see what it was, disappearing into the mist. While she was doing that, Lin slipped her camera from her pocket and began to take some pictures of the plants and the places that had been dug. She wasn’t noticing Sue at that point—she couldn’t see her anyway.

  Suddenly, Sue appeared at her side. “I heard something over there,” she pointed toward the thicker brush, “I think we’d better get out of here.”

  Lin felt a brief surge of panic, and for a moment, she felt as if she were stuck in her tracks, as if she couldn’t breathe; her heart pounded in her chest. She fought against slipping into a full-fledged panic attack. Finally, with a gentle push from Sue, she began to move forward carefully, but quickly.

  They made their way back toward the Parkway trying to follow roughly the same route they’d taken in. The fog completely blocked any view of the road above. Only the sound of one or two passing cars let them know they were on the right path.

  Lin was leading the way, but Sue remained close behind her. If I panic and freeze again, I guess she wants to know so she can push me onward, she thought to herself. She felt her heart beating fast and her breath was coming in short puffs, but that was largely due to the fact that they were heading uphill. She was frightened of their being caught, but she managed to hold at bay the sense of panic that had paralyzed her before.

  They continued to work their way forward. Lin strained her ears to try to hear if they were being followed, but the fog had such an effect on sounds; she couldn’t be sure whether she heard someone in the brush or was just hearing the echo of their own footsteps. Then she was sure—something seemed to crash in the woods behind them and she thought she heard voices.

  “Someone’s coming,” Sue whispered, grabbing Lin’s jacket, “We need to get out of here. Let’s climb up this bank—the road is right up there—we’ll be safer out in the open. When we hit the road, run for the car as fast as you can.” She dug her hiking stick into the bank and started up, slowly but deliberately. Lin did the same.

  Suddenly they heard a voice yelling, “Stop. Stop, or I’ll shoot.”

  Lin’s heart almost stopped, and she felt as if she was going to choke, but she plunged ahead dragging herself up the steep bank right behind Sue. A deafening blast split the air, and Lin instinctively flattened herself against the bank in some vines. A second blast followed the first, but both seemed to be a bit off to their right. They could hear the sound of pellets hitting bark and leaves tearing. They also heard the sound of their assailant moving toward them.

  “Up,” Sue wasn’t trying to be quiet now. “Get up now.” She shoved ahead and disappeared into the mist at the top of the bank.

  Lin shoved off from where she lay against the bank, trying to gain secure footing with the aid of her stick. Her right foot found a secure spot higher on the bank, but her left foot slipped into what felt like a depression, twisting violently. For a moment Lin froze, unable to move because of the pain. Then, from somewhere, she found the strength to shove her body ahead. The shoulder of the road was just above. She could hear the sound of someone moving toward her. Her left ankle hurt when she put weight on it, but she managed. When she reached the roadside, she saw Sue already running toward the car.

  The mist had lifted just a bit as Lin started toward the overlook where they’d parked. She tried to run, but all she could manage was a painful jog—her left ankle screaming at her every time her foot met the ground. She thought she heard footsteps behind her, but she was afraid to turn around and look.

  She reached the car, finally. Sue had already started the engine. As Lin turned to open the passenger door, she glanced back hurriedly. The fog was settling in once more, but she managed to get a quick look at the person who had emerged behind them. There, standing by the road, a shotgun in his hand was Luke Taylor.

  ***

  Sue drove as fast as the fog and the law would allow heading south toward Deep Gap. She was totally focused on her driving, not saying anything. Lin was quiet also, still trying to deal with the shock of seeing that Luke was the one chasing them.

  Finally, she found her voice, “I saw who it was,” she said, “I saw who shot at us. You were already in the car, but I saw him.”

  “Well, who the hell was it, don’t keep saying that, tell me,” Sue was almost yelling at her.

  “It was Luke,” Lin stammered, “Luke Taylor. I can’t believe it but there he stood, with a shotgun in his hand.”

  “I’m sorry, I yelled,” Sue apologized, “It’s just the stress talking. I didn’t mean to sound angry.”

  “It’s OK,” Lin tried to smile but couldn’t, “I was scared too, but he didn’t shoot again, when he saw me, and I know he recognized me, he just stood there and didn’t shoot again.”

  Lin shifted in her seat, trying to reach her shoe to loosen the laces. Her ankle was throbbing. “I think I’ve hurt myself—hurt my ankle. I stepped in some kind of hole and twisted it.”

  By this time they’d reached Jeffress Park. Sue pulled into the empty parking lot. She got out of the car and went around to the passenger side and opened the door. Lin turned sideways so that Sue could reach her foot.

  Sue slipped the shoe off Lin’s foot and carefully removed her sock. The ankle was already quite swollen and her foot was turning black and blue. “I think we’d better take you to the ER. This needs attention.” Lin tried to protest but it fell on deaf ears.

  “You know those shots were wide to our right,” Sue commented as she exited the parkway to Highway 421 at Deep Gap. The fog was even worse here, but at least they were on a four lane divided highway. “That may have been because the shooter couldn’t see us in the fog,” she couldn’t bring herself to call Luke’s name. Not wanting to admit he was their attacker.

  “But he could clearly see me when we reached the road,” Lin commented, “and he made no attempt to shoot. Just stood there. Maybe he missed on purpose earlier.”

  “You know we have to report this,” Lin was trying to get past the pain in her ankle but with little success. Her words were strained and she was almost in tears.

  “Yes, we do,” Sue said, “but who we report it to is our choice. I vote for Mark Scott, I don’t trust Dave Winkler to do anything about it.”

  Lin said nothing, but she hated the thought of having to report Luke for shooting at them. She really liked the young man and found it hard to believe he attacked them. I guess I’ll have to give up on that handcrafted cherry desk for Neal she thought. Then she had another thought—if Neal knew she was hurt he’d probably want to drop everything and come back right away. She couldn’t let that happen. He needed to finish his bu
siness in Flagstaff first.

  She hastily made Sue promised that she would let Lin be the one to talk to Neal about her injury; that she wouldn’t try to call him herself. “I’ll talk to him tonight,” Lin said, “He’s expecting me to call then anyway.”

  “That’s your business entirely,” Sue said, “I won’t say anything to him.”

  By this time they were back in Boone, and soon Sue was pulling into the entrance to the emergency room at Watauga Medical Center. She went inside and asked for assistance getting Lin into the building. A young aide came forward with a wheelchair.

  “What happened to you?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

  I guess she’s supposed to be upbeat Lin thought, but her own mood was far more grumpy.

  “Twisted ankle, I was hiking and fell and twisted my ankle,” she grumbled.

  Sue had grabbed Lin’s bag from the car and she went into the reception office to take care of the necessary paperwork while the young aide took Lin back to one of the examination rooms. By the time they got back there, Lin was beginning to feel hot and itchy—especially her hands, and her face and neck. She glanced down at her hands; a red rash had appeared on her palms; it extended to her fingers and up to her wrists. As the aide helped her to sit on the gurney she glanced at the mirror on the wall opposite and saw that the same rash had appeared on the right side of her face and neck. What’s this, she thought; then it dawned on her—the vines she’d been leaning against when she’d flattened herself against the bank must’ve been poison ivy. She was instantly grateful she’d had on a jacket and jeans; at the same moment she became aware that she was itching violently. Almost instinctively her hands moved toward her face. The aide saw what she was about to do and grabbed both her arms.

  “Don’t,” she said, “Scratching will only spread the rash—and don’t touch your hands to any other part of your body. Just sit tight,” I’ll be back in a moment with something to wash you off. Then I’ll help you get out of your jeans so the doc can examine your foot and leg.

  And make it easier to administer that big shot of antihistamine you’re going to stick in my backside, Lin thought. She’d had poison ivy before.

  ***

  It was almost two hours later when they left the hospital. The doctor wanted to see Lin again the first of the week to check the ankle after some of the swelling had gone down, but the x-rays had revealed no broken bones. The diagnosis was a severe sprain and he’d prescribed some pain killers to help her rest, wrapped the ankle lightly with an ace bandage, and told her to spend the rest of today and tomorrow with the foot elevated, using ice packs to reduce the swelling. “Keep the poison rash covered with the ointment I’m prescribing. It should be much better in twenty-four hours with that shot—it’s a strong anti-histamine,” He’d instructed. Lin, already growing sleepy from the painkillers she’d been given, could only nod in agreement.

  Sue drove her home and got her settled on the sofa, her foot propped on pillows. She got some frozen peas out of the kitchen and fashioned an ice pack. “We’ll tackle getting you upstairs later on,” she said, “Right now I’m going out to get your prescriptions filled and buy some more frozen peas. I’ll be picking up something for lunch what shall I bring you,” it was already early afternoon.

  Lin declined any food. She really wasn’t hungry. She only wanted to rest. She was asleep before Sue got back to her car.

  ***

  By the time Sunday morning rolled around, Lin was feeling much better. The ankle was still painful but the swelling had subsided substantially. The poison ivy rash was still red and raised, but the violent itching was much less. The ointment was a bit messy, especially on her hands, but she was managing even that pretty well.

  Sue had called Pat Dane on Friday; Lin was officially “off work”, at least until she saw the doctor again on Monday. Sue herself had worked half a day on Saturday, after making sure that Lin could manage on her own for a few hours.

  The biggest hurdle Lin had faced was telling Neal about what had happened—not just her injury, but also the fact that Luke Taylor had taken shots at the two of them. Actually, she’d started not to tell him about that, but at the last minute, recalled her own “honesty” pledge and decided this was something best not postponed.

  Of course, Neal’s initial reaction had been to say he was going to drop everything there and fly back immediately; however, Lin had managed to persuade him that he needed to stay and conclude his business with the house and planning for his move. She pointed out that he would be there in a week anyway and there was nothing he could really do. Besides, an extra trip would be a big dent in the budget. Reluctantly, he agreed, making her promise that she and Sue would report what happened to the authorities. They planned to do that this morning, having stuck to their original decision to talk to Mark Scott and the FBI agent rather than the local sheriff’s department.

  Now, Lin was struggling to get ready for their breakfast meeting with Mark and the agent. She still couldn’t put any weight on her foot, and she couldn’t see how she could manage a much-needed shower. “ I’m not in a cast so the ankle doesn’t have to stay dry, but I don’t think I can stand on one foot that long,” she complained.

  “ I have just the thing, hang on a minute,” Sue said, heading for the basement.

  She returned shortly with a plastic patio chair. “These were stored down there, evidently when Frank bought that nice patio set we’ve been enjoying. It’s a bit dusty though, let me rinse it off before you get in.”

  The chair was just the ticket. Lin could bath all over, even wash her hair without assistance. She felt like a new person, and she could hardly wait to get out of the house after being confined with her foot elevated for the past couple of days.

  She and Sue had carefully reviewed all the information they had about all of the cases, and they had also thought through what had happened when they were walking in the woods on Friday—before Luke had forced them to leave. Sue had downloaded and printed some of the pictures Lin had made of the plant that was growing in abundance, as well as the bare patches that looked as if someone was digging. She’d also made note of the tools she’d found stashed in a neat pile behind some brush—hoes, cultivators, garden shears, and a stack of burlap sacks. “Too bad we don’t have a picture of that. I was getting ready to have you come take a photo when I heard someone moving about and had to leave,” she commented.

  “Well, I think we have enough to convince Mark Scott to look into that area further—hopefully, the agent will support him,” Lin finished wrapping the ace bandage around her ankle and reached for the crutches, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late.” She could hardly wait to get out of the house.

  They arrived at the Boone Bagelry on Hwy. 105 a few minutes early. The restaurant sported a typical mountain lodge décor, with lots of wood paneling and a large stone fireplace. “I’ll bet this is really nice in winter when they can have an open fire,” Sue commented, selecting a table near the back, where they’d have some privacy to talk.

  They’d just had time to get coffee and place their order when Mark arrived; he was accompanied by a man who appeared to be about Mark’s own age—perhaps in his early thirties. “Hello, ladies,” Mark smiled, carefully eyeing the crutches Lin had propped beside her chair, “What happened to you, Lin?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m really OK,” she responded, “We’ll tell you all about it in a moment, please sit down and have some coffee.”

  “This is Zack Turner, special agent from the Hickory FBI office,” Mark introduced both Sue and Lin as the men seated themselves. The waitress appeared immediately with more coffee and left additional menus.

  “Mark has updated me on your concerns about these unsolved cases,” Zack began, “but I’d like to hear the story first hand from you folks. How did you become interested in all this?”

  Sue began her story, telling about her interest in researching a book and the additional case information she’d uncovered in this effort. Soon Lin joi
ned in, recounting the incidents that had occurred at their home and the seeming lack of interest shown by local law enforcement. She also explained the situation regarding the death of Peter Dunne and the assault on Ellen Clark, including how Eustace Hinson had initially confessed to this and other crimes only to have the confessions thrown out due to his dementia. It was a long story and they had almost finished eating by the time Lin and Sue had concluded.

  The waitress brought another pot of coffee to the table and cleared away the dishes. Zack Turner stirred some cream into his mug and sat back. “So, the bottom line is that there have been a series of deaths on or near the Parkway, at least the remains of the victims have been found on federally owned land. The park authorities have relied mostly on local law enforcement in these cases, but most are still unsolved, and maybe one that has been closed shouldn’t have been—at least in some eyes. You folks are of the opinion that the local authorities haven’t really been trying to solve these cases, and they haven’t really taken seriously the incidents at your home.” He perused the list of observations and questions that Sue had given him earlier. He turned to Lin, “Now, Ms. Hanna, how did you injure your ankle? You haven’t mentioned that yet.”

  Lin explained that she and Sue had revisited the scene of Sandy Hill’s murder, the same place they’d earlier encountered Eustace Hinson. Together, she and Sue recounted the tale, finally coming to the stash of tools Sue had found and the pictures Lin had taken of the plants and the bare spots where plants appeared to have been removed. She gave the plant photos to Mark. “There’s a large patch of these plants in the area we visited, but we were struck by these bare places. They have a regular shape and seem to indicate that someone has been digging here. The tools Sue found support that idea as well.”