Outcast In Gray: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 7)

by M. Glenn Graves

  “Don’t feel like joking, lady. I’m not feeling too good about this.”

  “Me either. Should we head back to the truck?” I said.

  “Damn,” he said.

  I took that to mean yes.

  47

  It was way past dark when we returned to the truck; I called Buster Murdock to report my missing friend. I included the two dogs as well. I don’t think Sheriff Murdock cared much about two dogs.

  “How long she been gone?” he said.

  “Since about ten or so this morning.”

  “Who was the last person to see her?” he said.

  “Probably the person who either took her captive or killed her,” I said.

  “Don’t get smart with me. I don’t like you and I don’t care for your humor. She’s only been missing nine or so hours. Knowing Carver, she’s off somewhere doing something she’s not supposed to be doing. Call me in the morning if she doesn’t come home tonight.”

  He hung up without waiting for me to respond. What a wonderful guy. No wonder that Starnes is so endeared to the man. Top of the heap. Crème de la crème. What a marvel.

  “What’d he say?” Rosey said.

  “It’ll only piss you off if I tell you. Just pretend that he is overly concerned and is going to put out an APB.”

  “Pretend that, huh?”

  “It’s better than me telling you what he said.”

  “You wanna go back out after we eat something?” he said.

  “You know the risks. These mountains are a difficult place to go out in even during the daylight. The darkness is nothing but trouble.”

  “Yeah, I know. I was just wanting for you to verify what I already knew. We can hit it again early tomorrow morning. I’m thinking first light. Or, we can leave before sunup and get over there by the time the sun is sneaking over the mountaintops back. Dawnish. We know where she is not, so we can start at some other vantage point and do our search.”

  “Dawnish?” I said.

  “My English education at Oxford allows me to find words that have a dubious life,” he said.

  “You mean coin words that do not as yet exist,” I corrected.

  “However you want to phrase it.”

  “She could be anywhere,” I said, returning to the more serious matter at hand.

  “Yeah, she could.”

  “There’s only two of us. We’re severely limited as to the amount of terrain we can cover in a day.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sounding pessimistic, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m thinking too much,” I said.

  “Well, not too much too much, just too much about the wrong stuff.”

  “Like the size of the task?” I said.

  “For starters. We’ll rest and hit it hard tomorrow. One thing you should remember here,” Rosey said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Sam’s with her.”

  That made me smile. It was the first time I had smiled since I had come to believe that Starnes was in serious trouble.

  I was up before five the next morning. I drank a few cups of coffee while I waited on Rosey to join me. He emerged from the house a few minutes after five. He had a coffee cup in hand. He was gulping down the hot, black liquid as he walked.

  “Let’s go, Sherlock. I’ll drive. Got miles to go before we sleep, or something like that.”

  “Indeed we do,” I said and climbed into the rider’s side of Starnes’ red truck.

  It was still dark when we arrived in Gabriel’s Creek. We had found some county maps in Starnes’ house and had studied them a little last night. We brought them along to aid our feeble plans to search for Starnes and her companions. I kept thinking that this was a fool’s mission. I didn’t want to believe it, but the notion kept confronting me. I was doing my best to keep my composure while trying hard not to allow myself to think of the horrible possibilities of what may have happened to my friend and my dog. Her dog as well. It was too much.

  The map we had studied told us of an old logging road that had been used in Gabriel’s Creek back in the 1920’s and 30’s. After some serious searching and a good bit of being lost in the dark, we finally found what we believed to be the road bed. We parked the truck under a grove of trees just as the sky was showing some color besides a dismal gray cloud cover. No sooner had we climbed out of the truck, checked our weapons, and otherwise readied ourselves for a long day of hiking, I spotted my Jeep about fifty yards away from the truck. It was partially covered with broken branches and some naturally growing brushes. At least we had a clue as to where Starnes most likely began her trek. From our vantage point on this logging road, Rosey and I figured that we were about five miles or so from the back of K.C. Higgins’ property. The map indicated that there was nothing but forest between Higgins’ place and us. It might just be a good spot to hide a person and two dogs, to say nothing of my obscured Jeep. It also crossed my mind that one could easily hide a body around here.

  Detective work is a lot of guess work. That’s on a good day. On a bad day you go with whatever crosses your mind.

  “We stay together,” Rosey said no doubt just to remind me in case I had other ideas about our impending trek through the woods.

  “I didn’t think you had changed your mind.”

  “If it was true yesterday, it’s still true today.”

  “You think we can cover this much land in a day?” I said.

  “Probably not. We need to get lucky,” he said.

  “I wish I had Sam here.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Judging by the map, we need to sweep southeast to northwest, then back again. I brought along my trusty-dusty compass,” he said.

  “Trusty-dusty, huh?”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve used it to save my tail.”

  We crisscrossed the woods for about two hours. We were steadily moving southeast as we tried to be diligent in our sweeping pattern. Now and then we would stop and simply listen. Forest sounds are important, especially if you happen to be searching for people. At least that’s what my trail scout told me. I generally believed in his expertise.

  “Hold it,” he said and held up his hand.

  Rosey was leading this tiny expedition through the woods. I was blindly following behind, now and then praying, hoping that God hadn’t forgotten me after all my years of absenteeism. I figured that desperate times called for desperate measures. It was also a way of hedging my bets on finding my friends.

  “What?” I said in a forest whisper.

  “Shhhh!”

  I listened but could hear nothing except a bird off in the distance. Now and then a tree branch would scrape against something and produce a sound. I heard some very old leaves making a noise.

  “I hear voices,” he said.

  I heard nothing. Maybe I was losing my hearing. A by-product of being my age.

  “Over there,” Rosey pointed to a thick bush. “Hide.”

  We moved swiftly and hid ourselves behind the bush. At least I thought we were behind it. Since I still hadn’t heard anything, including voices, I wasn’t positive about the direction of the sound. I was trusting my scout.

  A minute or so passed. I finally heard voices. When the words became clear, I recognized one of the voices almost immediately.

  “I know that voice,” I said to Rosey.

  “Shhhh,” he said.

  “Are ya sure this is the way?” the voice I did not recognize said.

  “This is the way,” the one I thought I knew said.

  We waited as two men came into view. One was tall and the other short. It was the tall one I knew. Then I saw the face of the short fellow. I knew him as well. I moved out from the bush before Rosey could grab my arm and stop me.

  “What on earth are you two doing out here?” I said to the two men.

  The tall one was Walter Stanton, Sheriff Murdock’s deputy. The short one was another deputy. I remember seeing the short
one, but couldn’t recall his name.

  “We overheard Sheriff Murdock talking about Miss Carver being missin’,” Deputy Stanton said.

  Rosey appeared behind me.

  “Who’s he?” the short one said.

  “A friend of Starnes and myself. We’ve been canvassing these woods without success.”

  “Why’re you searchin’ here?” Deputy Stanton said.

  “This land adjoins K.C. Higgins’ property. It’s just a hunch, but we are hoping that Starnes is somewhere out here,” I said.

  “Oh, Lord,” the other deputy said.

  “Did the sheriff send you?” I said.

  “Are ya kiddin’ me, lady?” the short one said. “Murdock’d have our heads if’n he knew we wuz out here lookin’ for Miss Carver.”

  “But you came anyway,” I said.

  “Well, we sort a like Miss Carver. She’s good to work with and all. Besides, Ben here has taken a likin’ to her.”

  “Ben,” I nodded at him.

  “She’s feisty,” he said. “I like that in a woman.”

  “Well, we appreciate the help. Either of you know this terrain very well?” Rosey said.

  “I do,” Walter, the tall one, said. “I was raised in Gabriel’s Creek for most of my life. Didn’t leave until I took that police course over in the next county. I live in Athens now.”

  “That’s good to know. You have any suggestions about how to go about searching between here and Higgins’ land?” Rosey said.

  I wondered why he asked them such a question. He had a method and I was not used to him seeking advice from others.

  “Just walk and look. Now and then I stop to listen. So many natural sounds, but…you know, now and then there could be some unnatural sounds. Humans make noise,” Walt answered.

  “Well, Deputy Stanton,” I said, “I am grateful to you for coming out to help. You, too, Ben.”

  “Call me Walt,” the tall one said.

  “Tell me, Walt, Ben,” Rosey said, “how is it you knew to come here?”

  “Overheard Sheriff Murdock laughing and talking to someone on the phone yesterday evening. He mentioned K.C. Higgins and her land. I figured that coming from this side toward her place was the best way to do it. Otherwise we could run into some serious trouble,” Walt said.

  “Serious trouble?” I said.

  “Yeah, she’s got a couple of mean dogs.”

  “Big, too,” Ben said. “And I don’t mean like any large dog, you know large as in Shepherd or Lab or even one of those Great Dane things. I mean huge.”

  He emphasized the word huge.

  “So you’ve seen her dogs?” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am. Up close and personal,” Ben said.

  “That’s why I brought Ben along,” Walt said. “That and his favoring Starnes and all.”

  “Yeah, I get that.”

  “So, Walt, what do you suggest?” I said.

  “Beg yur pardon?” he said.

  “How shall we proceed?” Rosey clarified.

  “Oh, yeah. Well, my truck is parked back down near where we spotted Starnes’ truck. I ran the plates. I also spotted your Jeep. Yeah, I ran those plates as well. Anyhow, I loaded my all-terrain monster before leaving home this morning. Ben brought his, too. I figured we’d go back and get them. Easier to do this crisscrossing with those machines than by foot.”

  “That’s a lot of noise,” Rosey said to Walt. “Hard to sneak up on anyone like that.”

  “Thought’a that, too. You’re right. Lotta noise. But the way I figure it, if whoever hears us coming is up to no good and means to harm Starnes, then our noise might dissuade them from whatever mischief they’re into. If I had to choose between capturing a villain and rescuing Miss Carver, then I choose the rescue. There plenty of bad guys out there, but no so many good folks like Starnes.”

  Rosey smiled at me.

  “Dissuade?” I said to Walt.

  “That means hamper, you know. I learned that word at the training school. Our captain, the teacher, used it a lot. I liked the sound of it. Dissuade. Carries a lot of force, don’t ya think?” Walt said.

  “I do,” I said to Walt. “I like the sound of it myself.”

  48

  I thought I heard a whistle. I tapped Walt on his shoulder and he stopped the machine.

  I was riding behind Walt. Ben was riding his all-terrain vehicle by himself. Rosey said he would rather go it afoot. Ben had a whistle which he said he would blow if he found anything. Rosey thought it a good idea if our little group now would spread out some.

  “I think I heard Ben’s whistle,” I said to Walt.

  We waited to see if Ben would blow his whistle again. I might have been mistaken.

  The whistle sounded once more.

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s Ben’s. He bought it thinking he would be a traffic cop one day in Asheville. Like there’s a lot of traffic in Asheville that needs a policeman to manage, you know. Anyhow, he takes that dang thing everywhere we go. Hardly ever gets to blow it. Makes him feel official,” Walt said.

  “What’s Ben’s last name?” I said.

  “Bevel.”

  “That’s not a mountain name, is it?”

  “No, ma’am. He’s a foreigner. Family moved here twenty years ago. Came from up north somewhere. Ben’s a good guy. A little slow sometimes, but he’s a good deputy. He can fight with the best of them. Good deputy, even if he is a Yankee.”

  “He’s lived here twenty years and still considered a Yankee.”

  “It’s a fact. Born up there, then that’s what you are. Born down here, same difference.”

  We headed off in the direction of the sound of Ben’s whistle. Ten minutes later we found Ben. Rosey was already there. He was bent over something lying in a ditch near a rough trail. I could see by the markings that it was Dog.

  “She alive?” I said as I jumped from the back of Walt’s bike and ran to Rosey.

  “Yes, but she’s been mangled a bit.”

  I looked over his shoulder.

  “Damn,” I said.

  One of her front legs had been chewed badly and she was bleeding from a head gash, a chest wound, and a lot of bloody marks around her throat area. Rosey ran his hand over her entire body checking for other possible injuries.

  “Ah, she’s been shot, too. Probably a tranquilizer,” Rosey said.

  “Hey!”

  I heard Walt cry out.

  “Over here!” Walt yelled again.

  Ben, Rosey, and I ran after the sound of his voice. It was not a trail we were on, but you could tell that something had been through this way. It appeared that something had been drug along flattening down the early grass and branches of some small bushes not yet showing any obvious buds. We followed the drag marks.

  We came to a clearing in a few minutes.

  Walt was standing over by a large tree frantically untying Starnes. She had been bound to the tree with a rope.

  “She dead?” Ben called out.

  “I don’t think so, but she’s not doin’ too well,” Walt said.

  Walt laid her gently on the ground. There was a gash on the left side of her head. One of her arms appeared to be broken. There were teeth marks at the break on her right arm. Her leg was bleeding from some bite marks that appeared to be rather deep. Rosey felt her neck for a pulse.

  “Slight, but there,” he said.

  “We need to git her outta here quick, people,” Ben said as if we were planning to leave her to her own devices. “If somebody small will ride on the back of this thing, we could lay her body across the lap of that small person and transport her outta here fast.”

  Rosey and Walt looked at each other.

  “That must mean me,” I said to Ben.

  “You ain’t that small,” he said.

  “Smaller than those two goliaths,” I said obviously referring to Rosey and Walt.

  “Yeah, I reckon it’ll work.”

  After a few minutes of adjustments, I was secured to the back o
f Ben’s all-terrain vehicle, Starnes was laying across my lap and I was reaching over her in an effort to hold onto Ben. It was a good thing she wasn’t any bigger than she was. Falling off his machine while traveling through the woods with a limp body on my lap was not something I wanted to experience.

  “Ben, you do wheelies and I shoot you,” I said.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll go slow.”

  “Rosey,” I said, “you guys need to get Dog.”

  “You take care of Starnes. Walt and I will see to Dog.”

  It took longer than I thought to reach our trucks. Ben and Walt had driven separately so as to carry their all-terrain vehicles in the bed.

  “I think she’ll ride better in the cab than in the bed,” Ben said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  Ben lifted her body off me and I walked with him to the cab of his truck. He had an extended cab with four doors so it wasn’t too difficult to put her inside. I helped from one side of the truck while Ben maneuvered her limp body from the other.

  He loaded his all-terrain vehicle, I started to climb into the front seat, and then I remembered my Jeep in the bushes.

  “I’ll follow you,” I said.

  Ben speeded off towards the emergency room at the hospital in Asheville. I was right behind him.

  My cell rang. It was Rosey.

  “Call me when you know something,” he said.

  “We’re twenty minutes from the hospital, give or take,” I said. “The way Ben Bevel is driving, we might get there in less than that time frame. What about Dog?”

  “I’ve got Dog. You worry about Starnes,” Rosey said.

  “She’ll probably make it. Too tough and obstinate to die on me.”

  49

  It was dark in the hospital room. I looked at my phone to see what time it was. Close to four in the morning. Starnes was asleep but mumbling. Her right arm was in a cast. Her left leg was bandaged after the ER had finished with the stitching. I heard one of the nurses say something about twenty-seven stitches. Yikes. That’s a lot of thread. I could see a small blood stain coming through the gauze that was wrapped around her head. They’d probably want to change that one sometime soon.