Murder and Moonshine: A Mystery

by Miller, Carol

  “Aunt Emily?”

  “Yes, Ducky?” She patted her arm a second time.

  “Do you know anything about another piece of land? A part of Fox Hollow separate from the rest?”

  The patting stopped. “Separate from the rest? I’m afraid I don’t understand you.”

  “Bobby Balsam told me some big-city folks hired him to pressure my momma to sell the land, but that doesn’t make a bit of sense to me.”

  “Big-city folks?” Aunt Emily raised a curious eyebrow. “Your momma wouldn’t ever sell her land.”

  “Bobby said the same thing, and that’s what puzzles me. Fox Hollow doesn’t belong to her anymore. And I’m sure those big-city folks are aware of that. They might have been confused about it awhile ago, but they can’t be now. Rick himself told them he’s the new owner. So why are they still bothering my momma?”

  Aunt Emily was puzzled too. “You’re right, Ducky. That doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

  “Ethan thinks maybe something funny happened with the forfeiture. A portion of the property got split off, and my momma went on owning it. But you’ve never heard about anything like that, have you?”

  She shook her head regretfully. “I wish I could say I have, except I haven’t. And that’s not the sort of thing I’d forget.”

  “When Ethan first suggested it, I figured it was pretty improbable. If Fox Hollow had been divided into parts—inadvertently or not—I think somebody would have told us about it at some point, even if just by sending my momma a tax bill.”

  “Fox Hollow divided into parts?” Aunt Emily went on shaking her head. “Maybe there’s been a mix-up with Chalk Level. Chalk Level has parts. It’s got Fox Hollow and the cemetery and all those little parcels sprinkled around the edges.”

  “But everybody knows that. Those parts have been the same for ages. The only thing that ever changes about them is how many people are living in which single-wide. And as far as I’m aware, the big-city folks never asked about Chalk Level. They asked about Fox Hollow. The only person to ask about Chalk Level recently is Ethan, and that’s because of what happened to Fred. Chalk Level was listed as his residence.”

  “In a way you could say it still is his residence. Didn’t your momma agree he could be buried there?”

  “She did. They couldn’t find any of Fred’s relations to send his remains to after the autopsy, so my momma told them they should just put him in the cemetery. She didn’t like the idea of a person never being laid to rest, even if he wasn’t family. There’s certainly plenty of room for him. The place is huge. And how often is there a new grave? Hank was the first one since my daddy passed.”

  “That was very generous of your momma, especially considering the circumstances.” Aunt Emily fussed with a few errant strands of hair. “Although I’m not sure how happy Hank or your daddy would be if they knew Fred Dickerson was sleeping beside them for all of eternity.”

  “He’s not beside them,” Daisy corrected her. “Fred’ll be in one corner, and they’re in another. But does that really matter at this point?”

  “It matters plenty if the curse has moved along with them—from Fox Hollow to the cemetery.”

  “What!”

  “How many times have I told you not to gape, Ducky? You’re not a baby seal waiting to be fed a mouthful of sardines.”

  “Aunt Em—”

  “Nobody looks handsome when they’re gawking. Not even you, Ducky. I’m sure Mr. Kinney would much rather have his romps with you when you know how to use your mouth properly.”

  “Aw jeez, Aunt Emily.”

  She smiled. It was that animated smile of hers that drove Daisy nuts. The one where it was nearly impossible to determine whether Aunt Emily was being terrifically canny or terrifically cuckoo. In this instance Daisy tended to think it was the latter.

  “Cursed? The land is cursed and the curse could move? Be serious, Aunt Emily. You can’t honestly believe that.”

  The smile remained.

  “And there haven’t been any romps between Ethan and me,” Daisy added with some irritation.

  “Not one?”

  “Not one.”

  Aunt Emily wrinkled her brow. “Then I’m disappointed in you, Ducky. You haven’t been using Mr. Kinney to your full advantage.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Fiddle, fiddle. I’m only watching out for your best interests. The man is both attractive and convenient. I’ve said it before, but it bears repeating. He can help you get some of the answers you’re looking for. And it’s about time you tried bringing a new chap into your life, Ducky. Even if it’s just for a couple of nice nights. You can’t go on pining after Matt forever.”

  “I’m not pining,” Daisy scoffed.

  “Maybe. And maybe Fox Hollow isn’t cursed. And maybe Fred Dickerson wasn’t responsible for the death of your daddy. And maybe Hank’s crash truly was an accident. But I doubt it. And when you think about it—honestly think about it—you’ll understand what I’m saying. You’ll agree with me too.”

  Daisy didn’t bother arguing with her, knowing full well that arguing any further with Aunt Emily about sex and death and curses would be an utterly fruitless endeavor. And to be fair, not all of her words were kooky. She was most likely right about Hank. His crash most likely wasn’t an accident. And Daisy was beginning to understand why. If Hank knew something about Fred and Fox Hollow—and he gave the big-city folks trouble about it—it could very easily have gotten him killed.

  “Daisy? Oh good. There you are.” Ethan stepped unexpectedly into the room.

  Aunt Emily chortled. “My goodness. The timing couldn’t get much better, now could it?”

  Shooting her an admonishing glance, Daisy turned to Ethan. “Why are you here? I thought you were going to check with your office and we’d talk later at the inn.”

  “I did check with my office and it’d be better if we talked now. Assuming, of course, that’s all right—” He looked over at her mom.

  “It’s all right.” Daisy rose from her chair. “Outside?”

  “Outside.”

  Not heeding the admonishment, Aunt Emily chortled again. “Full advantage, Ducky. Full advantage.”

  Daisy was not amused, but she didn’t respond, figuring that it would only encourage her. She followed Ethan into the hall.

  “Can you leave?” he asked as soon as they were out of range of Aunt Emily’s sharp laugh and even sharper hearing.

  The question surprised her a little. “Leave the hospital?”

  Ethan nodded.

  “I suppose so. If it’s necessary. I’d like to be here when my momma wakes up, but that could be hours from now. Why? What’s going on? What did you find out?”

  He hesitated as a nurse hurried out of a nearby room, then he dropped his voice cautiously. “I know why they want the land.”

  Daisy put her hand on his arm. “You do?”

  “And I know how Mr. Dickerson was involved. I know what he did, and I know why they poisoned him.”

  Her grip tightened.

  “But I need some help from you, Daisy,” Ethan said. “I need you to take me back to Chalk Level.”

  CHAPTER

  25

  “Watch my phone, will you? They’ll send the plat map as soon as they get it.”

  Daisy cradled Ethan’s phone in her lap with as much care as if she had been holding a rare egg from an endangered swallow.

  “Left on Highway 40?” he asked her.

  “Highway 40,” she answered absently. “Left.” She wasn’t thinking about how to get to Chalk Level. She was thinking about why they were going there. “Are you sure? About the drilling?”

  “I’m not sure if they’ve started or how far they’ve gotten. But I am sure they requested exploratory drilling permits for uranium. I found them when I was looking for information on the forfeiture.”

  “It must be a mistake.” Daisy shook her head. “Doesn’t it have to be a mistake? The wrong paper went into the wrong file?”
>
  Ethan shook his head back at her. “It’s not a mistake. I checked twice, and my office confirmed it. The permits are for Chalk Level. Or part of it at least. The Fox Hollow part from all indications. That’s why we need the plat map. To see where exactly the property lines run.”

  “But how could it be the Fox Hollow part?”

  “Is there really any other part?” he replied. “I thought Chalk Level and Fox Hollow were pretty much the same thing, aside from a few little lots along the edges. I seriously doubt anyone would go through all this trouble to dig under a trailer or two.”

  “I doubt it too. And I agree if it’s Chalk Level, then it must be Fox Hollow. Except that’s not what I meant. I don’t understand how it could be either one. How could there be drilling permits, or even a request for drilling permits? Doesn’t the owner of the land need to be involved in something like that?”

  “The owner of the land was involved. He signed the request.”

  A surge of anger reddened Daisy’s face. “Rick signed the request?”

  “It wasn’t—”

  She didn’t listen. “That rotten ass! The whole time he’s been pretending not to have a clue why those big-city folks are interested in Fox Hollow when he’s really known all along. They’ve probably been working together on this for months, maybe even before Rick bought the property.”

  “It wasn’t—” Ethan began again.

  “I should have seen it! I should have realized! I always thought Rick knew more than he was letting on.”

  “It wasn’t Rick.”

  Daisy was so riled up, for a moment his words confused her. “Huh?”

  “It wasn’t Rick. Rick didn’t ask for the permits.”

  They turned left on Highway 40 and were greeted by the blinding orange blaze of the sinking late-afternoon sun. Ethan pulled down the visor on his side and squinted hard, but Daisy stared straight into it.

  “Rick didn’t ask for the permits?” she echoed. “But just a minute ago you said the owner of the land was involved. He signed the request.”

  “The supposed owner of the land was involved. Only he turned out to be the tenant instead. Fred Dickerson was the one who signed the request for the exploratory drilling permits.”

  Daisy’s head snapped toward Ethan, except she couldn’t see him. Her eyes were filled with a glowing tangerine blur.

  “Fred Dickerson signed the request,” he repeated. “He signed it about a month before his death.”

  Although her vision remained distorted, Daisy’s mind wasn’t muddled in the least. She immediately began putting together the dates. “According to Zeke, that’s right around the time the big city folks first came to the roadhouse and asked about Fred.”

  “There’s no chance that’s a coincidence. Especially considering a couple of weeks later the sale of Fox Hollow to Rick became public knowledge and they started asking about him instead.”

  “And then”—she gave a little gulp—“Fred died.”

  Ethan nodded. “I’ll tell you why that’s not a coincidence either. Because just a few days before he died, Mr. Dickerson tried to rescind his request for the permits. It was too late by then. The permits had already been issued. But he tried nonetheless. Those big-city folks must have been real unhappy with him for doing that.”

  “So unhappy they poisoned Fred? He didn’t want to be involved in the drilling anymore, and you think they killed him because of it?”

  “I do. It takes a damn lot of time and money to get exploratory drilling permits approved. There’s no way anyone serious enough to go through that process would let an old farmer’s cold feet interfere with their plans once they’d managed to get the ball rolling in their favor. My guess,” Ethan said, “is at the outset Mr. Dickerson didn’t really understand the plan. They probably put the request for the permits next to a big stack of cash, and he signed it to get the money. Maybe he pretended to own the land, or they just assumed it belonged to him since he’d been living there for so long. That’d make sense considering how screwed up the property records were from the forfeiture, and it’d also explain why they were continually asking about the ownership of Fox Hollow. They could never get a clear answer who it actually belonged to until Rick finally confirmed he’d bought the place.”

  “They must have been real unhappy about that too.”

  “No doubt. I’d wager they’ve been interested in acquiring the land for quite a while now but couldn’t because of the forfeiture. When the bank was finally able to dispose of the property—”

  “Rick swooped in,” Daisy finished for him. “Rick and his ’shine made a hush-hush agreement with the bank president.”

  “Exactly.” Ethan gave a slight smile. “They’ve probably been spitting nails about that sale slipping beneath their radar from the minute they heard about it.”

  She frowned. “But now they’ll just buy Fox Hollow from Rick. Or work out some sort of mineral deal with him. Uranium is just like coal and oil, isn’t it? I assume you can buy and sell the mining rights the same way.”

  “In general, yes. Except when compared with uranium, coal and oil are barely more dangerous than a tub of lard and a box of Cubans. Uranium is open-pit mined. That means they dig up a huge area, both wide and deep. The radiation and toxic chemicals released from the site spread like dust blowing on the wind. It’s seriously harmful stuff guaranteed to cause kidney damage, birth defects, and a dozen different cancers. But on the upside, uranium is extremely valuable to the people who own the land with the deposits and the executives of the company that extract them.”

  “Lovely,” Daisy muttered grimly. “They’ll all become filthy rich before going safely back to whatever big city they came from, while the rest of us are left behind in Pittsylvania Count to wither and die.”

  “They’ve got to go awfully far away to be safe,” Ethan said. “From what I understand about the degree of impact, the ground and surface water contamination from uranium mining and milling is so bad, the vast majority of Virginia would be affected, along with at least half of North Carolina. And that’s assuming it’s successfully contained. If at some point a remnant of a hurricane passes over the region—or any heavy flooding occurs—or a severe storm with a tornado—”

  “All of which we get around here pretty regularly,” she interjected.

  “Then the affected area could be massive and potentially catastrophic for the southeast. The contamination would last for decades and generations. That’s millions of sick people to dig up something there’s not even any shortage of. Not here or in the rest of the world. Apparently we’ve got well over a hundred-year supply of uranium stockpiled already.”

  Daisy raised a suspicious eyebrow. “You seem to know an awful lot about all of this.”

  Ethan shrugged. “I did a little research on the subject after finding those drilling permits. Trust me, I’ve learned my lesson about not doing enough research in advance.”

  The eyebrow remained lifted. “Thinking about trying to get in on the action? See if Rick’ll cut you a piece of the uranium pie?”

  “Hell, no. I don’t want that much blood and suffering on my hands. Money or no money. From what I read this afternoon, uranium mining makes a smidge of explosives and a few questionable firearms look downright harmless. And I’m ATF.”

  She responded with a sigh.

  “But even ignoring all of that,” Ethan continued, “I don’t think Rick wants to sell the property.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “He seems to me to be fairly content as its new owner. Maybe because it’s a good place for his whiskey business. Maybe because he likes having Fox Hollow when you can’t.”

  Daisy sighed again. Ethan was probably right on both counts.

  “I think if Rick was interested in getting rid of the property, he would have done so already. But the last time we saw him, he didn’t give any sign he was even contemplating it. When his brother said he’d been paid to talk to your mom, Rick appeared just as surp
rised as you. His reaction would have been different if he were in the middle of negotiating the transfer of two hundred prime acres to the same people.”

  “There are still the mineral rights.”

  “True.” Ethan nodded. “But if Rick sold or leased those, the land itself would be worthless to him. No more corn. No more stills in the old tobacco barn. No more Fox Hollow as it looks today. The place would become one giant poisonous pit.”

  She shuddered.

  “And Rick didn’t understand their interest in the property any more than we did. He was the one who first suggested taking a look at the plat map to see if it could give us any answers. So he’s not even aware of the uranium deposits.”

  Daisy shook her head. “Even after everything you’ve told me, I still can’t figure out why those big-city folks are pestering my momma to sell the land. They’re not trying to convince Rick to sell the land, and he’s the only one who can sell it.”

  “I can’t explain that,” Ethan said. “I looked pretty hard at all the documents relating to the forfeiture, and there’s no indication whatsoever anything funny happened with it. Nothing got divided or split off along the way. At least not that I could find. Fox Hollow appears to be fully intact and the same as it’s always been. For better or worse, there’s no missing piece that still belongs to your mom.”

  “So if there’s definitely no missing piece, then my momma’s definitely got nothing left to sell. Which means those big city folks are not only evil and greedy, they’ve also got a screw loose. Bothering a sick woman when she doesn’t have anything they could possibly want? That’s cruel and just plain stupid.” Daisy scowled with contempt. “It makes me wonder if maybe that’s the reason Fred came into the diner the morning he died. He wasn’t trying to warn Rick about the bad ’shine. He was trying to warn me about the stupid big-city folks.”