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

by M. Glenn Graves

“You have a shot,” I said to Rosey.

  He looked at me without answering. He dropped his weapon to his side with the barrel pointing down to the sand. When I looked back across the river, Doc was gone. She had completely disappeared from view.

  “I’ll call 911 and get an ambulance,” I said.

  I dialed but nothing happened. My signal was weak, then it failed altogether. The phone began searching.

  “I need to move. No signal. I’ll head back towards the Jeep.”

  “I’m good here,” Rosey said.

  Sam walked with me as I headed to the Jeep trying to lock in a signal. I looked back and Rosey had crossed the river to K.C.’s body. I watched him feel for a pulse again. He looked at me and gave a thumb’s up. Still alive. I was surprised. A part of me was glad.

  Once I was at the road, I had a weak signal. I dialed the number and told the operator what I needed. I called Starnes and told her what had happened.

  Off in the distance I heard a mournful cry of pain, deep agony, and sustained grief. It was obviously an animal. I figured it was Doc crying out. Then I heard some coyotes yelping. It was a pack, at least the sounds echoing around me indicated more than one or two. The singing idea crossed my mind. If they were singing, it was a sad song. Plaintive lamentation full of great pathos. Perhaps I was projecting.

  I walked back to the sandy spot by the river. I stared at Walt’s bloody carcass. Swift and deadly, I thought. Rosey had crossed back to my side of the river. He was standing nearby.

  “So he shot her for family honor,” he said.

  “Something like that. Revenge is fairly common among our species, you know.”

  “Yeah. I’ve seen a lot of it.”

  “Should we move her to this side or wait for the EMT’s?” I said.

  “Let’s move her,” he said and turned to lean his rifle against a small tree at the edge of the sand.

  I entered the water ahead of him and then froze.

  “She’s gone,” I said to Rosey.

  65

  By the time the emergency medical team had come and gone, Starnes was on the scene helping us scour the area for some trace of K.C. Higgins’ disappearance. There were some drag marks in the mud but they only lasted for three feet or so. There was blood, some on the rocks which I had noticed earlier, and a blood trail that led away from the water into the woods. After that, there were only paw prints. Of course the prints belonged to Doc, the larger-than-life wolf that nobody in the mountains would believe existed. At least that was my working hypothesis.

  “So you think this wolf-creature named Doc returned here while you two were over there looking at that bloody mess, drug her body a few feet, and then…what, hoisted K.C. onto her back and trotted off into the wilderness carrying this good-sized woman?” Starnes asked.

  “It’s an image,” I said.

  “Plausible?” Starnes said.

  “Not so much,” I said.

  “So let’s look for plausibility, shall we?” she said and walked away from me.

  “You are strangely quiet,” I said to Rosey.

  “Thinking.”

  “Yeah, me too. You have any other theory of what happened to K.C.’s body?”

  “She came to and then… got up and walked away.”

  “And the drag marks?”

  “No idea,” he said.

  “So you ignore some of the evidence,” I said.

  “I can ignore a lot of things with this investigation. Strange would be a term that is an exaggerated understatement. You trained lab rats can play with the evidence.”

  “She’s the lab rat,” I pointed to Starnes who was following whatever she had found after the drag marks had ended.

  “Hey,” Starnes called out, “you two come over here.”

  She was crouching in some weeds at the edge of the woods.

  “Blood,” she said and held up her hand. “I’ll take a sample and see whose it is.”

  I watched her take out a tube, remove the cap, place a sample of the blood from the ground into her tube using a popsicle stick she had brought along just for such a moment as this, and then replaced the cap on the tube. Keeping her evidence from contamination. Tidy and efficient.

  “You two need to get your stories straight for the High Sheriff. He’ll be here any moment now. Wouldn’t want you guys to be found complicit in this sordid affair,” Starnes said. “Nor would I want you two telling him conflicting tales.”

  “So you’re not going to hang around and aid our cause?” I said.

  “I know nothing of your cause. You came out here without me. What do I know?”

  “You were still recuperating. Don’t be so touchy. We didn’t know that all of this was going to happen,” I said.

  “Like you didn’t know that K.C. Higgins was going to show up here?”

  “I was playing a hunch, nothing more.”

  “Tell the sheriff,” she said and walked towards her truck.

  “She’s miffed,” Rosey said.

  “I got that.”

  Buster Murdock insisted that we travel to Madison and have a sit down with him. I think it was the dead deputy Walt Stanton that upset him more than the missing body of K.C. Higgins. The man had his priorities.

  “You need some drapes in this office,” I said after he had asked me my version of the events.

  “Listen you big city gumshoe detective,” he actually snarled when he spoke. “I don’t like you and I don’t like you being here in my county. And I don’t much care for your friend in the other room. Now tell me what happened.”

  “Gumshoe and detective mean the same thing.”

  “What?”

  “A redundancy … when used back to back like you did, it’s a redundancy.”

  “You wanna go to jail?”

  “Not my first choice.”

  “Then answer my question.”

  “I didn’t hear a question,” I said.

  “What happened to Deputy Stanton?” he snarled again.

  “A large animal jumped on him and killed him before we could stop it.”

  “Why didn’t you shoot the animal while it was still attacking him?”

  “I did.”

  “But you couldn’t kill it.”

  “I fired four rounds into the … animal,” I said. I wanted to say wolf, but I knew that would set him off, so I kept that to myself.

  “Four rounds from a 9 mm and you couldn’t kill it?”

  “She was large.”

  “She?”

  “Gender.”

  “How did you know it was a female?”

  “K.C. told me. Her name is Doc.”

  “The animal’s name is Doc,” he said. It sounded like a question but without the rise in his voice at the end of his sentence.

  “Yeah.”

  “A female named Doc.”

  “I think you have it.”

  “Don’t get smart. I can still put your ass behind bars. What else happened?”

  I told him the sequence of events. My story aligned with Rosey’s, at least I was fairly certain that our stories aligned. Buster Murdock had already questioned Rosey who was now waiting on me in another room. I was alone in this interrogation.

  “Higgins’ body disappeared and you have no idea where it went,” he said repeating my story.

  “Found some clues and we’re checking them; but, in a word, no, we have no idea what happened to her body.”

  “She was dead?” he said.

  “Rosey found a slight pulse. That’s why we called the EMTs.”

  He stared at me while frowning. I wondered if the man had ulcers. If he didn’t, I suspected that one day soon he would develop them.

  “What clues?”

  “Beg your pardon?” I said.

  “What clues did you find at the scene?” he said.

  “Oh, yeah. Blood.”

  “Of course there was blood. Walt Stanton’s body was a bloody mess.”

  “Blood on the other side of the river,” I cor
rected.

  “That would be K.C. Higgins’ blood,” he said.

  “Maybe.”

  “You said she was shot by Deputy Stanton. Unless Higgins was a ghost, she had to bleed.”

  “Good point, sheriff. But the animal was also wounded. So the blood could belong to either … or both.”

  “What do you think happened?”

  “To her body?”

  “Yeah, to her body,” he seemed agitated.

  “You won’t like my version.”

  “Humor me.”

  I doubted that I could perform such since he disdained my type of humor. And me.

  I told him what I thought about the animal carrying K.C.’s body away. He rolled his eyes and laugh derisively. He managed to turn his vicious laughter into a snarl.

  “You’re an idiot,” he said.

  “Perhaps. I’ve been called worse.”

  “You can go,” he waved his hand at me as he retrieved some paperwork on his desk.

  I scooted my chair back as I stood.

  “May I have my gun?” I said.

  “Later. Evidence, I’ll need it to match the slugs.”

  “What slugs?”

  “The slugs we may find at the crime scene.”

  “May find?” I said.

  “I don’t believe your story. Nor that … fellow with you.”

  “I see. Isn’t this where you’re supposed to tell me not to leave the county?”

  He arched his eyebrows in a strange way. It was a frown, of sorts, but more amusing to me than fear.

  “One more thing,” he said as I moved towards the closed office door. “What kind of large animal was it you saw attack Walt Stanton?”

  “You won’t believe me if I tell you that either.”

  “Tell me anyway,” he said.

  “Is this for your report?” I said.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Put down large coyote-dog mix. That’s the type of canine that K.C. Higgins bred. Coyote-dog. Very large.”

  He said nothing more so I left.

  66

  The fog was still thick around the small house when I knocked on the door. Sam was sitting on his back legs beside me. The rest of the gang was back at Starnes’ house washing dishes and cleaning up after a hearty breakfast. We had spent the night talking about K.C. and Doc, her wolf-creature. We spent a good deal of the night wondering where she was and if she was still alive. We wondered about both of them still being alive.

  Josephine Starling opened the door and invited me inside.

  “Good morning,” she said rather pleasantly. “You’re still looking for K.C.”

  “Still.”

  “You won’t find her.”

  “You told me that once before. I just want to know if she’s alive,” I said.

  “Perhaps that needs to remain a mystery as well, a question for you and Starnes. If I told you she was still alive, you might go looking for her.”

  “Someone might go looking for her, but it won’t be me. Starnes and I are finished with this case.”

  “So why are you here?”

  “Not sure exactly. Maybe it’s the tea that drew me back.”

  She smiled and told me to sit down. I made myself comfortable on the sofa.

  Minutes later she entered with a tray of two cups and saucers, a teapot, and two muffins. She sat in the red chair opposite me while placing the tray of goodies on the coffee table between us. I watched her pour some tea in a wolf cup. It was a different drawing from the ones she had previously used to serve us.

  “Another set of cups, my my,” I said.

  “I have a weakness for teacups.”

  “Never would have guessed that,” I said. “And teapots as well.”

  “Everything fits,” she smiled as she handed me the cup and saucer filled with a reddish tea. My cup had an unusual drawing of a wolf-creature on the side. It looked like Doc.

  “A new blend?”

  “No, dear. This is a very old brew. I have used for years. A blend of raspberry, strawberry, and, well, it actually has seven berries plus Rooibos, a South African red bush and a tad of chaparral which purifies the blood.”

  “Left the kitchen sink out of this blend?” I said as I sipped it slowly. It was quite delicious.

  “Well, not the sink, dear, but I did add just the right amount of maté, a caffeine-like stimulant.”

  “Caffeine-like, you say.”

  “It has a power of its own.”

  “And just the right amount. Sounds cryptic,” I said and took a big gulp of her brew. I could feel something happening to me but I wasn’t sure what. “You have drugged me.”

  I could feel myself swooning but there was no way to stop the effects of Aunt Jo’s tea. The last thing I remember before my eyes closed was Aunt Jo helping me lie down on something soft.

  It was dark when I awakened. I lay still for a moment or so to gather my wits. At least that’s what I thought I was gathering. I was lying on something hard now, but not painfully so. My eyes adjusted quickly to my surroundings.

  I was still in Josephine Starling’s house. I recognized the two chairs and sofa combination in her living room. I could see it through a doorway of wherever I was.

  I was alone in the semi-darkness; at least I thought I was alone.

  I waited a few more minutes before I found the courage to move. I sat up slowly and then decided to stand. I felt a bit queasy, so I eased myself into the chair nearest me. I searched the room for a sign of another’s presence. Hopefully I would spot Aunt Jo. No such luck. I was indeed alone in this house in the dim light.

  My eyes could now see clearly around the room, so I walked to the front door and went outside. A full moon was shining brightly, making the entire yard and field around Aunt Jo’s house appear almost like a daylight experience. My Jeep was nowhere to be seen. There was no trace of Josephine Starling either.

  “I’m going back,” the voice said and I turned to my left to see K.C. Higgins standing nearby.

  “Back where?” I asked.

  “To my true family.”

  “And where is that?” I asked.

  “The wilderness. I fit there. I’m accepted there. They care for me.”

  “They?” I said.

  “My pack, my clan, my friends. Family.”

  “Coyotes or wolves?” I said.

  “Good question,” she said and laughed a little. The moon was overhead and cast a shadow that made it difficult to see clearly the details of her face.

  “Maybe it’s best if I not answer what I know about that,” she continued.

  “So, you’re alright?” I asked with some concern.

  “I was fortunate. I think you call it a through and through type of wound.”

  “It’s a term I have used before.”

  “My clan will help me to heal. We have our ways.”

  “I’m sure they will help you to lick the problem,” I said.

  “Your humor is always with you, even the bad puns.”

  “Always an element of truth in my bad puns,” I said. “And you’re … Doc, how’s Doc?”

  “She’s injured.”

  “Dying?”

  “I fear so.”

  “I shot her,” I said.

  “You did what you thought was best at the time. I don’t hold a grudge against you. But I doubt your inflicted wounds are what affect her struggle at present.”

  “Then what?”

  “Well, I suspect it was some of the wounds that your dog inflicted upon her in their two earlier skirmishes. She is not used to such a fierce animal. She had never come up against anything like him. But, she might still make it. It just a feeling I have … you know, I am simply imagining the worst. She has been with me such a long time. I hate to lose her.”

  “Yeah, we do that, don’t we?” I said, “Imagine the worst.”

  “Clancy, are you okay?” Aunt Jo said as she was leaning over my body.

  I was waking up. Again. It was genuine light this time
and I was lying on a bed.

  “Where am I?” I said.

  “My house, of course.”

  “Your bedroom?”

  “No, dear. This is my guest room. This is K.C.’s old room. It’s where she … grew up. This was her bed.”

  “Her bed,” I repeated.

  “Yes, why?”

  “Nothing,” I said as I lay there gathering my wits thinking how strange life can be sometimes. Stranger than strange.

  I was also thinking how fortunate I was to have the likes of Rosey and Starnes as my friends. And Sam. Sam, the wonder dog. Imagine that.

  THE END

  More Titles in the Clancy Evans PI Series

  One Lost Soul More

  Mercy Killing

  The Peace Haven Murders

  Revenge

  Desperate Measures

  When Blood Cries

  A Look at Out Jumps Jack Death, the next Clancy Evans PI novel

  Acerbic detective Clancy Evans finds herself aiding her friend Rosey when – following his black ops assignment to retrieve a small box from Thailand—some corrupt government insiders decide to remove Rosey permanently. Along the way to discovering those behind this contract on Rosey’s life—with help from some friends and unlikely participants—Clancy is forced to hide out in the vast terrain of the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  Once Clancy opens the box and discovers the contents, death jumps out and comes looking for anyone connected with keeping Rosey alive.

  AVAILABLE ON AMAZON, NOW.

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  Thank you for taking the time to read The Outcast In Gray. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author's best friend and much appreciated. Thank you.

  M. Glenn Graves

  About the Author

  M Glenn Graves has been writing fiction since graduating from college in 1970 but did not begin to work on novels until 1992. Born in Mississippi, he has lived in Tennessee, North Carolina, Missouri, Virginia, Costa Rica, and the Dominican Republic. He graduated from Mars Hill College with a BA in English and Religion. He received a Master of Divinity in 1977 three years after he finished his four-year tour in the United States Navy. Married to Cindy, they have three grown children – Brian, Mark, & Jenn. They also have three grandchildren – Jonathan, Matthew, & Phoebe. Glenn, Cindy, and Sophie, their Lab, currently reside in the mountains of western North Carolina where he is the pastor of a local church.