Alone Again_After the Collapse

by John Sullins

  “Did they ever find him?”

  “Yes, that is the really neat part. They hunted for weeks and weeks but they finally got the help of Sue’s cousin and his dog. I’m sorry but I don’t remember the cousin’s name.”

  Keith thought about the photo of his great grandmother and the two men and two women.

  “Could it have been Buck or David?”

  “David, yes, I think that could be it. Buck was her second husband. How did you know that?”

  “Joni showed me a picture of her with two other women and two men. One was Buck and one was David.”

  “Let me tell you the neatest part of the story. When the dog led them to the old man’s remains, one of his gloves was found stuck to the antlers of Big Ed, the big deer. They knew it was his glove because his championship high school football ring was still in the glove with the bones of his finger. They believed that the old man had shot Big Ed and died of a heart attack while dragging the deer home.”

  Keith suddenly stood up, “Wait a minute, I’ll be right back.” He ran from the kitchen and up the stairs. He returned a few minutes later with one of the photo albums and the small box with the ring which he had found in the file cabinet. He sat the album on the table and handed the box to Ed Roy.

  There was excitement in his voice, “Look in here. Is that the ring?”

  Ed Roy took the ring from the box and examined it. “I think it is. I know he won it in Alabama, and I think that is what is on the top of the ring, Alabama.”

  Keith asked, “Can you tell what it says under the stone?”

  Ed Roy moved it closer to his eyes and studied it for about ten seconds.

  “I think it says H S Champ.”

  “H S?”

  Ed Roy said, “High school……. it says Alabama high school champ.”

  A wide smile appeared on Keith’s face when Ed Roy handed him the ring. Keith held the ring as if it was worth a fortune.

  “Wow, this is great. Keep going, tell me more.”

  Ed Roy was about to continue talking but slid off his chair and stared at Keith.

  “I almost forgot. I know the exact spot where they found the remains, the exact spot.”

  “Where is it?”

  It’s a few miles up the lake. If it was summer we could take the boat, but with the lake froze over we’d have to use a snow mobile. I don’t know if the ice is thick enough to try.”

  “How do you know the spot?”

  “It’s like I said, my grandpa was good friends with Sue. When she and her cousin found the remains, my grandpa had a memorial stone made and it was taken to the exact spot. I have the GPS co-ordinates at home. I have been there a few times. The last time was about five years ago, but I am sure I could find it when the ice melts.”

  “Tell me more.”

  Sue and Brad got married shortly after that and that is when the sheriff was killed and she became sheriff. They were not married very long before he was killed. That is why she resigned as sheriff and began bounty hunting.”

  Keith opened the album and found a photo with the name Brad under it.

  “How did Brad die?”

  “Some crazy man was shooting at people on the lake. She had deputies hiding in the woods trying to catch the guy. She had Brad hauling the deputies up and down the lake to their hiding place and somehow he got shot. I don’t think I was ever told the details of it, but if I was, I was young and don’t remember.”

  “That had to be awful?”

  “My grandpa said she was never the same after that.” He walked to the window and looked out at his new red truck.

  Keith asked, “Do you know anything about an attorney firm named Sullivan, Wright, and Darvish in Bangor?”

  “No why?”

  “I found a note upstairs about them, saying to go see them.”

  “I’ve never heard of them.”

  “Tell me about her bounty hunting.”

  “I don’t know much. I know that she got a huge reward for catching a domestic terrorist who set off a bomb in Washington and killed some Congressman or Senators. Then sometime later, the man escaped from prison, I don’t know how, and she caught him again and got another big reward. I think she killed him the second time. That is what got this house blown up.”

  “What? The house was blown up?”

  “The house use to be a lot smaller. But some of that terrorist’s friends hide a bomb in the house and when it exploded she was injured and an FBI agent was killed. Some people thought the agent was her boyfriend but I have no idea if that was true. I just know she had this house built after that.”

  “What about other people she caught? Do you know any more stories?”

  “No, but I know she was shot at least once. But I don’t know any details.”

  Keith looked through the album and found a picture of her and looked at the young woman with pretty blond hair. “It sounds like my great grandmother was an interesting woman.”

  Ed Roy got up, I forgot to show you the album that was in the hall closet. It has pictures of her and others, I’ll get it.

  Chapter 47

  They looked at the albums and talked most of the day. But as they talked Ed Roy repeatedly walked to the window and looked out at his new red truck. Keith knew he wanted to leave so he could take it for a drive so he told Ed Roy he needed to make some phone calls. Ed Roy thanked him again and almost ran out the door to get into the truck.

  Keith waited until he left the driveway before calling the phone number for Sullivan, Wright, and Darvish.

  It took a substantial explanation to get the woman who answered the phone to understand the situation, but finally he was transferred and a woman who sounded about his age answered. He went through the same explanation of who he was and why he was calling before he was put on hold. After a long wait he heard the voice of an elderly man.

  “I am Wilbur Darvish. I understand you are a relative of the late Sue Davis Lang Hunter.”

  “Yes sir I am. I recently inherited her estate, and while going through a file cabinet in the house, I found a note to call your firm. I have no idea why.”

  “If that is true, and you have the proper documentation to verify it, then we need to talk.”

  “Can you tell me why?”

  The man cleared his voice with a disgusting guttural sound and said, “I cannot tell you anything but our address until I see the proper documentation. Have you told anyone about the note or about calling us?”

  “No sir, is that important?”

  “Very important. I strongly suggest you tell no one.”

  “What about my attorney?”

  “No, do not tell anyone. It is very important that this situation and this conversation be kept confidential. When can you be here?”

  “Would tomorrow be ok?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a pen? I’ll give you our address.”

  Darvish gave him directions and told him to be there at 8 AM.

  Chapter 48

  He picked up the envelope with the court papers, locked the door, and put the large key ring in his coat pocket. He drove the Caddy south to Bangor and arrived at the law office address ten minutes early. The building was a low square building with large flat stones making up the front wall. There were no windows, only a double glass entry door and the numbers of the address over the door.

  He carried the Will and court documents from the estate with him as he approached an attractive middle aged woman sitting behind a desk in the reception area. He told her he was there to see Mr. Darvish and gave her his name.

  “Yes Sir Mr. Hunter, he is expecting you.”

  She led him through a door and half way down a hallway to a door with the words, “Conference Room” painted on a frosted glass window in the door.

  Mr. Darvish will be right here. Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee? Soft drink?”

  “No thank you.” He pulled a cushioned chair back from a large oak table and sat down.

  When t
he door opened Keith stood up and the man that came through the door was possibly the oldest man Keith had ever seen. The man’s suit looked just as old. It was frayed along the end of the sleeves and as wrinkled as the skin on the old man’s neck. As the old man held out his hand to shake Keith’s he coughed and made the same guttural sound he had made the day before while on the phone.

  “I’m Darvish, thanks for coming so quickly Mr. Hunter.”

  Darvish put a binder on the table and sat down beside where Keith had been seated.

  “First things first. Let me see what you have as verification you are a beneficiary of Sue Davis Lang Hunter.”

  Keith handed him his folder.

  Darvish took his time looking at the papers and reading every word.

  “This is the most unusual case I have handled in all my years. This is the only Will where someone wanted to leave an estate to the beneficiary of another person’s estate.”

  Keith stayed silent, assuming he was referring to his great grandmother.

  “Ms. Hamlet walked into this office in June of 2044 and told me what she wanted to do. She handed me some of the papers in this binder and ask me to implement her wishes and refused to explain her logic for the actions.”

  Keith asked, “Who is Ms. Hamlett?”

  Darvish raised his nose in the air supporting the set of narrow reading glasses. “Ms. Hamlet is the reason you are here.”

  “I am confused. Is she a relative of my great grandmother?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is this about her Will?”

  Darvish took off his glasses and sat them on the desk.

  “Not exactly. I don’t even know if she is deceased.”

  “What?”

  “Let me explain. Ms. Wendy Hamlet came to me and asked that I set up a trust fund for the beneficiary of the estate of Sue Davis Lang Hunter. She told me that everything she owned was to be awarded to that beneficiary upon the death of Sue Davis Lang Hunter. She wanted the trust to be arranged to pay all property taxes and any other legal expenses involved with the property and to make sure the property was kept secure. I have done just that for many years.”

  “What property? What can you tell me about it?”

  “The only thing I know about it is what is on the deed, which is in this folder, and the address. I was given specific instructions that I was not to enter the property under any circumstances. I visit the property once a year with a maintenance man who does an inspection of the fence around the property and the locks on the doors. Neither of us have ever been inside the house.”

  “What is the condition of the house?”

  “It seems solid enough. The outside is cedar, two story, and there is a barn on the property which is sixty six acres.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Darvish shook his head. “Neither do I son.”

  Keith leaned back in the chair and ran his fingers through his long brown hair.

  Darvish removed a sheet of paper from the folder and slid it along the table to Keith. Here is a list of the assets in the trust. The total is accurate except for my final fees and the court fee to close the trust.”

  Keith read the sheet.

  “I……I……...am getting all of this? The property and the money?”

  “You don’t get it today, but you will by the end of the week.”

  The bank listed there is a couple of miles from here. The manager is my cousin. I will call her and let her know you will be coming in to introduce yourself. You will need to let her know what you want to do about the account.

  Keith looked at the paper again and read the bank name, the account number and the account balance. His hands began shaking.

  “How do I handle the fees you mentioned?”

  “I can deduct them directly from the account. The unpaid fees are not much, approximately fifteen hundred total.”

  He looked at the bank balance again, $1,277,909.33, and thought about the part of his great grandmother’s Will that was so unusual, the part that neither he nor Joni understood.

  Questions raced through his mind. “What the hell is all of this? Who is Wendy Hamlet? Why is she leaving me a house and money? Were they doing something illegal?”

  Darvish stood up and closed the binder.

  “Can you be back here Thursday morning to settle this?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  They shook hands but before he left the room, Keith asked, “If you are sure I will be the owner, can you give me the address of that property?”

  “I shouldn’t but I will. There is no one who will care. But I can’t give you any keys, I don’t have any.”

  Chapter 49

  Keith left the building confused. What had just happened made no sense to him. Why was a trust set up in such secrecy? He was convinced there had to be something illegal about it. Could the house and property have been a place to manufacture drugs? Is that how his great grandmother had acquired so much wealth? Maybe the Hamlet woman was a partner in his great grandmother’s drug business. Maybe she did not really resign from the sheriff’s office. Maybe she was fired because of her being caught selling drugs. Maybe her husband was killed during a drug deal that went bad. The only thing Keith knew for sure was that he was now wealthy, very wealthy.

  As he turned the key to start the Caddy, he told himself that no matter what, he was going to find the answers to all of these questions. He looked at the paper with the address of this new property, which was on Dry Creek Road. He did not know where Dry Creek Road was, and his road atlas was still in the minivan, so he turned the Caddy north-west and headed towards home.

  He was almost home when he got the idea to stop at the local Post Office and ask if they could tell him the location of the address. He knew he could get the information from the sheriff’s office but because of his concern of the implications, he decided it would be best to stay clear of law enforcement.

  The only lighting in the Post Office was the light coming through the glass windows on the front of the building. He was greeted by a man in his late fifties who seemed to be very tired, his eye lids were sagging as if he had just awakened from a nap. The name on his name tag was Jack

  Keith stepped up to the counter and handed Jack the paper with the address, “Can you to tell me where this address is?”

  Jack did not speak. He only nodded his head.

  Keith repeated the question, “Can you tell me where this address is?”

  Jack looked at the paper for much too long to read an address. He thought that the man may have a hearing problem and was about to ask again when Jack finally spoke.

  “Dry Creek Road runs north off Highway 11. I used to have a place out that way a long time ago. The house burned down about thirty years or so ago. I loved that place, real remote and private.”

  Keith waited for him to give more directions but Jack just stared at him.

  Keith asked again, “Can you tell me how to get there from here.”

  “Sure, I used to live out that way, drove out there many times.”

  Keith again waited for the directions but Jack’s eyes seemed to be sagging even more. He thought Jack was either very sleepy or on drugs. He tried a new approach.

  “I’m new here, I don’t know my way around. How far north is Dry Creek Road from here?”

  Instead of answering the question or giving directions, Jack asked, “You got a place out that way?”

  Keith almost laughed but stopped himself. He pointed at the paper in Jack’s hand. “No, I am thinking about buying this place though.”

  Jack responded with, “Where exactly is it?” Keith began to think the man was playing a game with him.

  “I’m not sure about that. That is what I thought you might be able to tell me, since you had a place out that way in the past.”

  “Yea, that’s right, I had a place out that way. Finally sold it back in 63, or maybe it was 64.”

  Keith leaned over the counter and grinned at the man. “I re
ally need to find this place, can you tell me how to get there?”

  “Sure, go to the corner and turn right, stay on Main until you get to 11, it’s four blocks, then turn right on 11.”

  Keith took a deep breath, “How far will it be until I get to Dry Creek Road?”

  The man looked at the paper again as if he was reading the address and handed the paper back to Keith.

  “Dry Creek runs north off 11. It is about seventeen or eighteen miles from town. You can’t miss it, there is a bridge over a small stream just before Dry Creek.”

  “Thank you, thank you very much.”

  As he went out the door he whispered to himself, “That man’s mind must have collapsed with the economy.”

  Chapter 50

  It wasn’t seventeen or eighteen miles north on 11 to Dry Creek Road. It was twenty two. The road was flat and twisting and seemed to be paralleling the stream. There were almost no houses or farms with mailboxes, and some of the mail boxes that were there, had no numbers displayed, only names.

  The house number provided by Darvish was 3444. The first number he saw was 677. The next number was 2461. A mile further on he saw another mail box with only the name Gleason. He looked down the driveway beside the mail box and saw the remains of a burned out house and considered if that was Post Office Jack’s old place.

  He found 3444 another six or seven miles further on. There was a metal gate at the end of the driveway with the numbers 3444 and a rusted metal sign along with the initials L.o.S. -V. hanging on the gate. A six foot tall iron fence ran along the front of the property. He could not see the house because the property was thick woods and brush. The driveway cut through the trees in a slight bend to the left for as far as he could see into the trees.

  The gate was hinged on both sides to brick columns and metal electrical boxes. It was obvious the gate at one time had some type of remote control access. He got out of the Caddy and walked to the center of the gate where the two halves met.

  He thought about what Darvish had said about his annual visits to this place. “The only thing I know about it is what is on the deed, which is in this folder, and the address. I was given specific instructions that I was not to enter the property under any circumstances. I visit the property once a year with a maintenance man who does an inspection of the fence around the property and the locks on the doors. Neither of us have ever been inside the house.”