***
Gail, Blake, Bill, Clark, and Catfish left Matt’s house a little before ten o’clock while Chuck, with a little extra time on his hands, drove to the interstate truck stop for gas and a cup of coffee. “One thing about truck drivers,” Chuck thought noticing the full parking lot. “They know a good eating joint when they find it.”
He spotted an empty stool at the counter and sat down. A waiter placed a cup of coffee in front of him, smiled and asked, “Can I get you anything to eat?”
“No thanks, just Coffee.”
A jukebox was in the rear corner of the restaurant with loud, blaring music that did little to sooth his frayed nerves. He let his eyes scan the room but all the faces were complete strangers. Near the last row of booths, he spotted a gray uniform and shiny hardware. A female Georgia State Patrol officer sat nursing a steaming cup of coffee and staring blankly out the window beside her table. Chuck lifted his cup and walked around the crowded tables to the booth. The young woman looked up and Chuck asked, “Do you mind if I sit down?”
The officer’s eyes implied she wasn’t anxious for a visitor. Chuck added quickly, “I’ve got a problem I need to ask you about. It’s my brother. He’s missing and the West Creek County Sheriff Department refuses to help me find him.”
The mention of West Creek County’s Sheriff drew a curious look from her expression. She waved a hand to the vacant spot across the booth, “Have a seat.”
He sat down too quickly and a sloshed coffee on the tabletop. He reached for a napkin from the silver holder but missed and sent it plopping over into the officer’s nearly empty plate. Chuck tried to smile and reached for the napkin bin. Their hands bumped together clumsily. Chuck finally motioned, pulled the holder out of the plate, and shook his head in disbelief. “I’m a total wreck. I’m so sorry.”
A glint of humor appeared on her smooth face but she said nothing. Chuck removed a napkin, wiped the spill, and started explaining, “My name is Chuck Veal. I live in West Creek County. No, I mean, I’m from West Creek County originally. Right now I live in North Carolina.”
She waited. Chuck, suddenly short on words, had to search for a way to explain everything. “My brother has lived around here all his life and I haven’t heard from him in a week so I drove down to find out what’s going on.”
As Chuck took a sip of his coffee, she spoke for the first time in a tone that seemed soft but firm and businesslike. “Did you say the name was Veal? Are you related to Matt Veal?”
Chuck nodded. “He’s my brother who’s missing, he owns Veal’ Timber Company. Do you know him?”
She smiled, “Sure, I know him well. He recommended me to a friend of his in Atlanta that helped me get this job. Now tell me. Why do you think he’s missing?”
Chuck lowered his eyes to the cup, “He hasn’t called me in over a week and we found his car at the bottom of Beaver Creek this afternoon. I’m worried sick and I keep getting all this crap from Walt Brooks, the Sheriff.”
“That’s just about all you’re going to get out of the Sheriff’s office. Almost his entire department is being run down and under by the man. Bill Jacobs is the Chief Deputy. He’s a good cop and he knows Matt well. You need to see him and forget about Brooks.”
Chuck shook his head. “I did see Bill and the Sheriff fired him this afternoon down at the creek after we pulled the car out of the water.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise and she nodded. “Good. I’ve tried to get him to change over to the patrol with us but he was determined to ride it out at home.”
“Bill was fired for trying to help me find Matt.”
“What do you mean? What is going on over there in that County office?”
“A lot more than any of us know about, I’m afraid. It’s a long story.”
She raised her eyes and glanced out the window as a tractor-trailer rolled past. “I can only imagine. So what can I do to help you?”
“Matt’s timber business, right now there’s some jerk running the place that shouldn’t be there. I don’t know what to do. Most of the local people think Matt is out of town on business. Maybe finding his car will wake them up but we need more help on this from the outside.”
“I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can suggest you do other than call the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. I know a few of them and I’ll see what they say. If you’ve found his car that proves that a crime has been committed so maybe they’ll step in to investigate.”
“I know but the Sheriff is sticking with the Matt is out of town story. I guess you’ve also heard of a man named Max Pary?”
She leaned forward, “Mr. Veal? Your brother and Bill Jacobs are good friends or I wouldn’t be telling you this. Max Pary is probably the biggest crook in the state. I’ve heard all about Matt having problems with him over some business situations involving a timber lease north of Beaver Dam.”
“Blake Squires is Matt’s partner in that deal. He’s helping me look for Matt. We’ve got to figure a way to stop Pary from closing the gates until the timber can be cut.”
“Good luck. That man would commit murder before he’d let somebody best him in a business deal.”
When the words crossed her lips, their implications struck home and she paled. “I’m sorry. That was a stupid remark.”
Chuck said, “That’s okay because that’s what I’m worried about. We know that Matt did beat him in a business deal.”
Her face reddened. “It was just an expression. I’m sorry.”
A heavy set man wearing a yellow and black cap on his head, stepped through the door of the cafe, searched around for a moment until spotting the booth where Chuck and the officer were seated. He yelled for everyone to hear. “Hey smoky, there's a guy on the CB radio just hollered for you. He said there’s a Chevy doing figure eights in the middle of the interstate.”
All eyes in the room turned toward her and Chuck. She shouted back, “Okay thanks. I’m on my way.”
She grabbed her hat and stood. Chuck asked, “What did that guy say?”
She smiled, straightened her cap and said, “Drunk driver, weaving in the road. Listen, Mr. Veal. You call Bill Trebbit at the GBI office in Atlanta and tell him I sent you. Explain everything to him. I’ll do some checking around too. Where are you staying, Matt’s place?”
“Yea...would you call me tomorrow if you find out anything?”
“Sure thing, I’ll be in touch.”
He watched her leave. A trucker walked by the booth, “You can forget that little lady, old buddy. She’s a hard nose gal with a badge.”
Most of the customers were still staring at Chuck when he walked out the door.
Twenty minutes later, he turned the Jeep onto Old Mill road that led to the bridge where he was supposed to meet Edie Pary. It wasn’t a road so much as a logging path used mainly by hunters. The bridge ahead was an ancient, wooden structure that spanned Beaver Creek. The last time Chuck saw it, probably 20 years or more, it was near collapse and untrustworthy. By now, he figured, it had probably rotted away and fallen into the creek below.
As he eased the Jeep along, he thought about Gail saying that she loved him. She just blurted it out in front of Blake, Catfish, Clark and Bill Jacobs. What would they do when they returned to work in North Carolina? Company policy didn’t allow dating among employees in the same department and for a manager like Chuck, to be seeing an employee under his supervision, well, that was grounds for removal. “I’ll transfer her out to another division or something or I’ll get Marty to move me upstairs and let her have my job.” Chuck decided.
His mind went back to the immediate problems, mainly the safe and what the others were going to do at the timber office. Were they taking a big risk? What if someone did see them and call the Sheriff? Thompson must have hidden the safe because he couldn’t get inside the thing. If they were lucky enough to find the safe in the sawdust pile, their job of taking back control of the mill was over and done.
Chuck’s mind snapped back to the lo
gging road ahead now barely visible through the thick cover of weeds and grass. One thing he noticed, there was no one ahead of him or he would see the tire tracks in the dew moistened weeds. Chuck, it appeared, was the first person on the road in a car in a long time.
In places, the weeds thinned out enough to see yellowish looking sand that covered the tire ruts. There were no tracks visible. The jeep lost traction and spun for a moment but Chuck eased off the gas and pulled on through the soft area. A half-mile further along the dark wooden planks of the old bridge appeared in the Cherokee’s headlights.
Surprisingly enough, it was still standing but the rotted looking timbers spoke volumes of danger in crossing the bridge. “I wouldn’t even walk on that thing let alone drive,” Chuck thought.
He saw a blur of movement near the left side of the road a short distance ahead. It might have been an animal because these woods were full of large creatures. Nonetheless, a cold feeling moved across his mind and he wondered, “Why would she pick a place like this to meet?”
It was spooky and eerie and the car’s headlights caused dancing shadows in all directions. He suddenly felt scared and worried about meeting this woman in such a deserted place. He had no idea who else might be involved or why, but above all, why would Max Pary’s sister be so anxious to help him? Why would she be on his side and not that of her brother?”
Chuck eased the Jeep forward and saw the front half of a vehicle backed into a small side slot area near the bridge. “How in the world did she get down here? She didn’t use the road I just came in over.”
The parked car was dark colored with only the front half-visible and the rear backed into some bushes. Chuck drove a few yards past the car and stopped. His eyes scanned the nearby trees and underbrush for signs of trouble but saw nothing. He took a deep breath and cut the engine.
The car, parked in what appeared to be a road junction, was one he had never seen before. “Somebody must have cut a road to get out and around the bridge. Wonder where it comes out on the highway.”
He switched the Jeep’s lights to parking position and a dark, gloomy blackness engulfed the area. He opened the door and stood, looking around intensely. He wondered if anyone was hiding in the shadows… and why. In situations like this, the darkness could be his best friend but it could also be his worst enemy.
The driver of the other car got out and moved quickly into the reddish glow of the Jeep’s taillights. A soft, feminine voice whispered, “I’m Edie Pary.”
“I’m Chuck Veal.”
“I’m glad you came” the voice said. The smell of expensive perfume drifted across the night. Everything seemed surreal to Chuck at that moment.
“Mr. Veal? I know this seems odd, my calling you and all, but I want to help.”
“Why? How do you know Matt? Are you friends or something?”
She hesitated, searching for words. “I...I... Yes. Matt and I were good friends, Mr. Veal.”
Chuck noted that she referred to him in the past tense. A distant quail called crisply and the sound of water slapping against the old bridge pilings reached the road above. A night owl hooted and a quiet rustling sound of a small animal scurrying away mixed into the din of sounds around him.
The woman’s outline was nothing more than a shadow but a nicely figured shadow. Her face remained hidden in the darkness. The soft voice was strained, frightened, and trembled slightly as she spoke. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you out here in the middle of nowhere like this. I just didn’t want to cause any more trouble for Matt.
“Okay, Edie. What can you tell me that might help?”
“Matt told me before he disappeared that he was going to the old Veal’ cemetery and dig into his grandfather’s grave.”
A slow roll of thoughts tumbled through Chuck’s mind. That might explain the freshly dug dirt he had seen that morning. “Why would he do that?”
“I told you we were friends. He explained his plans to me the night before he went to the cemetery.”
“Edie, why would Matt want to dig up our grandfather’s grave?”
He heard something stir in the nearby bushes. Had she jumped at the sound? He couldn’t tell in the dark.
“Matt thought somebody was using the cemetery to hide drugs. Did he tell you any of this?”
Chucked lied “Parts of it”
Edie nodded. “I tried to discourage him, told him to call the Sheriff or something.”
Chuck waited, saying nothing. Edie continued, “I’ve learned a lot about you from Matt. He talked about you all the time.”
Chuck felt the hairs on his neck rising. Something was wrong about the whole setup. “You didn’t tell anyone where you were going tonight, did you?”
“No. No I didn’t tell a soul.”
Chuck hoped she was being honest or “Oh lord, she’s the bait and I’m the fish.”
“Edie why are you afraid for anyone to find out you and I are talking? Have you got a jealous boyfriend or something?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. It’s nothing like that. Matt was my boyfriend. My brother, Max, tried to stop me from seeing him because he thought it degraded the family.”
“Degraded? His Aunt married my Grandfather. Wasn’t Abatha Pary Abatha Veal for a week?”
Edie tensed and her words suddenly became defensive. “Aunt Abatha never used the name Veal that I know of. Besides, I’m not like my brother or my Aunt. I don’t judge people because of their name. I was in love with Matt and now he’s disappeared.”
There it was again, past tense. “Do you have any idea what happened or who might be responsible for Matt’s disappearance?”
“No. I’ve heard talk, related to the Beaver Dam project. Talk about how he ran over the property owners upstream. I don’t keep up with his business dealings that well.”
Chuck sensed something or someone watching him from behind. He tried to ignore the sensation and kept talking. “You said that the last time you heard from Matt was before he went to the cemetery?”
“Yes. He called and told me he was going there later that night. I begged him not to, I begged him.”
Why haven’t you called someone higher than our local Sheriff to report Matt’s disappearance?”
In the taillights glare he could see her eyes grow larger in surprise and she half cried, “No. The sheriff... My brother and family would never....”
“Okay, Edie. I’ll try to understand your position in this thing but have you told me everything? I already know about the Sheriff and his ties with your brother but if you cared for Matt...”
“Oh Chuck,” Her voice trembled noticeably now and she stepped closer. “I love Matt, more than anyone will ever know. It’s just that...that...”
Her dark figure shuddered, her head leaned toward him. He let it fall on his shoulder. The tears were warm and moist on his shirt. He realized that if she was acting then it was good, very good.
Something ruffled again in the bushes behind him. He wanted to turn but she was crying deeply and trembling.
“Edie, they found Matt’s car this afternoon at the bottom of Beaver Creek.”
She raised her head and started wiping at the stream of tears on her cheek. “I know. I heard. That’s why I decided to go ahead and call you.”
Chuck stole a quick glance over his shoulder. He could almost feel something behind him but the darkness was total and thick.
“Okay, Edie. I think Matt made it to the cemetery. I was there this morning, the weeds and vines are thick, and I could see where someone had been digging at my Grandfather’s grave. The catch is, the path going in hasn’t been disturbed in some time but there was fresh red clay scattered around and the grass was trampled down in places.”
“Did you check the back path?”
Chuck did not understand and said, “There’s only one opening into the cemetery and it's about clogged with vines and briars.” Again, he turned, glancing into the darkness behind him, but still saw nothing.”
Wipi
ng at tear-stained eyes, she said, “Matt found an animal trail that enters the cemetery from the woods and not across the field. Your grandfather’s grave is in the middle of the path.”
“You mean coming in from the pine thickets? There’s a game trail that runs through there?”
Edie nodded. Chuck brushed at his neck with one hand. The hairs were standing almost straight out. “The nearest road is a good quarter mile away from the cemetery if you go that way.”
“I don’t know if that’s it or not. Matt didn’t tell me specifically. He only said the back way and a game trail. That’s all I know.”
Suddenly the sound of tromping hoofs and the rustle of bushes and limbs startled both of them, then scurried away into the night. Chuck took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It had been a deer after all.
“Edie, you’ve got to help me. Tell me everything. I can’t do this alone.”
“I’ll do what I can but I just know that something awful has happened to Matt. I just know it.”
Standing alone with Edie on the deserted road, Chuck felt the slow realization sink in deeply. It struck full force. Matt, without a doubt, had to be dead.
“Matt is alive” Gail’s voice echoed in mind.
The hairs on the back of his neck prickled again. Something was still in the bushes behind him. That something, he realized, was probably what spooked the deer. He grew tenser, anxious, and some inner sense started to warn him to be wary. Then, a voice screamed from deep inside his mind, shouting, ““Pick up the nickel… pick up the nickel.”“
He spun quickly just as a dark figure broke from the trees and lunged toward him. There was something in the person’s hand. Was it a board?
Edie gasped with what seemed real surprise or well rehearsed acting. With one hand, Chuck shoved her harshly aside, which cost him the split second he needed to avoid the falling weapon. The blow caught squarely on the top of his head and his mind exploded in terror and pain.
The last thing he remembered was hearing Edie’s screams while he lay crumpled in the roadway with something warm and sticky trickling down the side of his face. He was bleeding from a large gash in the top of his head.
The Beginning (Whispering Pines Book 1) Page 28
