***
His eyes opened to bright lights that were streaming through a nearby window. His eyes focused on a bed covered with stiff, white sheets. A blank television looked down at him from an adjacent wall mounted set. Then a face appeared in the doorway of the room, “I see you’ve decided to rejoin us, Mr. Veal. I’ll call the doctor.”
The face disappeared and the door closed quietly. He was in a hospital room? Had there been an accident? Then the dream flashed through his memory. The funeral and the poisoned coffee, something his Grandfather had drank while Chuck stood by helplessly watching.
More memory returned and he remembered that he was in Georgia looking for his brother? And Edie Pary was there with his Grandfather in the dream?
With one arm, Chuck tried to rise off the bed but the sudden movement filled his body with pain. The pain, he’d forgotten about the pain until just then. He relaxed and waited for the rush to subside. A man’s voice called from the outer edges of his thoughts.
Am I going to dream again?
“Mr. Veal? Can you hear me?”
Chuck pried his eyelids open. Why are they so heavy? He nodded and said, “Yea. I’m awake. What time is it?”
The voice explained, “It’s Saturday afternoon. You’re in the hospital, Mr. Veal. You took a couple of rough blows on your head. How do you feel? Do you need anything for pain?”
“No. I’m okay. I just need to rest a minute here.”
Rest; that was what he wanted to do, He wanted to rest, not sleep. If he slept, the dreams would come back.
“Where’s Gail? Where’s Gail?” Did I ask that aloud or just think it? Better, try again.
”Where are Gail and Matt? Bill, Blake? Where are they?” he mumbled. “I’ve got to tell them what happened. I need to warn them about Matt’s girlfriend, Edie. She tricked me.”
Chuck’s mind tried to focus because there was no time for rest, not now. His eyes cleared enough to see the familiar face of a doctor, his childhood doctor, standing beside the bed. The man was elderly with deep gray eyes and an aged face that bore the lines and markings of a concerned professional.
Chuck tried to speak again but the muscles on his face and jaw were sore and stiff. He could not get his thoughts to line up with the actions of his tongue. The doctor, seeing his futile efforts, only smiled and explained, “It’s the pain killer. That head of yours looks like somebody used it for batting practice. All your friends are here. Now get some rest. I’ll be close by if you need anything.”
Through weak and trembling lips, Chuck managed to say, “Help me out of bed. There are some things I’ve got to do right now.”
“You stay put, Chuck. If you try to move around you’ll start bleeding again and you’ve lost all the blood you can afford to lose. I’ll be back in a little while to check on you.”
Doctor Marks stepped out of the room and saw Bill Jacobs waiting at the nurse’s station. A young, beautiful woman stood beside him. Jacobs nodded at Marks and asked, “Is he going to be all right?”
“He’s was awake a moment ago. I think the worst of the danger is over.”
Jacobs gave a deep sigh. “Thank God.”
Gail asked, “When can we see him?”
Marks shook his head. “Better give him until later. He’s still under the medication for pain and he needs to rest. He keeps saying he needs to see Gail, I assume that’s you?”
“Yes, let me see him for just a moment please?”
Marks thought for a second. “Only a moment and remember, he’s under some heavy pain killers. He might not make a lot of sense.”
As Gail walked away toward Chuck’s room, Jacobs, rubbing the back of his neck, added, “If he tells you anything important would you give me a call? Somebody tried to kill him last night and we don’t have any real suspects yet.”
The doctor shrugged, “I don’t think he’ll be telling you anything important until tomorrow maybe. I suggest you go home and get some rest. Haven’t ya’ll been here since late last night?”
They nodded, “Yeah. I grabbed a nap in a chair and Gail slept on the waiting room sofa. Blake and a few others were piled up in the back of a pickup last I saw.”
The doctor shook his head. “What’s this about Matt Veal missing? They found his car abandoned. “
Jacobs scratched at the stubble of beard on his chin. “Yes, found it in the woods yesterday. Doc, are you sure this head injury wasn’t caused by a car accident?”
The doctor lifted a clipboard from the counter. “I’m sure, unless he was riding in the back of a log truck. He's got a concussion from several nasty blows to the head with something made of wood with sharp edges because I found wood splinters. Maybe a two by four, all I know is it made a mess up there.”
Jacobs wanted to add, “and a few bunts from the Sheriff’s black‑jack, too,” but he remained silent.
Dr. Marks reached out and patted his blood-spattered shoulder. “I’ll call if anything changes in his condition. He might feel up to talking later.”
Gail walked back over to Jacobs and the Doctor. “He’s sound asleep so I’m not going to bother him right now but I’m staying here.”
Doctor Marks shook his head. “No, you’ll only disturb his rest and I can’t allow that. You’re not family.”
“He’s right, Gail. You need some rest too. Come on. I’ll take you back to the house.”
As they walked down the hall toward the exit, Jacobs turned and said to the Doctor, “I don’t know yet what’s going on but we need to keep a close guard on Chuck. Somebody wants to hurt him.”
“Or Kill him” Gail added.
The doctor raised an eyebrow and Jacobs added, “Don’t let anybody in that room alone with him.”
“He’s safe here. No problem.”
Blake and Catfish were standing near the outside entrance door when Jacobs and Gail stepped out of the hospital. Blake asked, “How bad is he?”
Jacobs shrugged. “Doc says he’s going to pull through but it might be tomorrow before we can see him.”
“Could he tell you who did this?”
“No, Gail tried to see him, but he was out cold. Besides, I’ll assume that Edie Pary will help us answer that question. I’m going to drop Gail off at Matt’s and then drive on over to Whispering Pines but I don’t want to leave her alone out there.”
Blake pointed at Catfish who needed no words spoken to understand.
Gail said “Don’t you think you should change clothes before going to see Edie?”
Jacobs looked down at his clothes and Catfish said, “Lord. He did a sight of bleeding.”
“I’ve got something to show both of you that I found among the papers last night.” Blake said. “Ya’ll run on and we’ll meet up at Matt’s place shortly. Jacobs? Let me show you this stuff before you go see Edie Pary. I’ll stop and pick up a few things and then cook something when I get there.”
“Yeah I better change clothes first. I guess I could use a bite to eat too, thanks, Blake.”
“Do you think it’s safe for Chuck to stay here all alone? Who ever tried to kill him might not stop.”
“No. Old Doc Marks will take care of him, Gail. Besides, I need you to look over those papers we got last night. Some of the legal mumbo jumbo is confusing. Maybe you could do that for me while Jacobs is with Edie?”
Everyone moved toward their vehicles.
One hour, four eggs, two slices of ham, and three pieces of toast later, Jacobs pushed the empty plate away from him and leaned back in Matt’s kitchen chair. Blake pointed at the stove, “There’s a lot more grits and eggs left if anyone wants more.”
“I’ve got no place to put them.” Gail said. “Goodness, where did you learn to cook like that, Blake? My mother would be envious of that ham and cheese omelet.”
“So would mine. I wasn’t all that hungry when I sat down but tasting this made me ready to eat.”
“A single man like you, Jacobs, and you can’t cook? Shoot. If you’re gonna stay single like me the
n you either learn to cook or you will starve to death.”
“People like me and Matt who can’t cook if you stuck us in the stove, we get by okay. Our bologna might not have a first name, but we aren’t going to starve to death. At least, not as long as they keep the diner open downtown.”
Blake rose from the table. “Right, good old store bought meals. Let me get something.” He cleared their plates from the table and walked away. Jacobs felt the food and coffee pushing away his fatigue. He was used to missing sleep in long stretches. His job often demanded it.
Blake returned a moment later, holding a leather folder in his hands. Plopping it down on the table, “This is wild...very wild.”
Gail leaned over, “What have you found?”
Blake removed some papers from the folder, “I went through most of this last night. These are Matt’s books for the company, records and stuff, and there’s nothing out of place far as I can tell.”
Jacobs watched Blake remove more papers. “These are the legal papers and notes Matt kept on the cemetery laws and stuff. They cover all the legal aspects for land rights and there’s a photo copy of the state law.”
Jacobs thumbed through a few of the pages, “We’ve got several possible reasons and any of them could be the one somebody tried to kill Chuck.”
Gail added, “Were they trying to kill him or frighten him away.”
“I’d say kill him but who knows?”
“Murder is not an easy solution to a problem and I can’t see this cemetery deal as anything but a thorn in the side of the Pary family. That alone wouldn’t be enough to justify murder. Would it?”
“It doesn’t take much with some people. Matt may have been murdered for some reason that might prove just as simple,” Blake said, “and now they’ve tried to kill Chuck. It could be the cemetery or the timber lease, heck just about anything along those lines could be it.”
“What about your papers? Did you find the copy of the timber rights contracts? Are they in all of this?” Jacobs wanted to know.
“Not any more. I moved them to my own personal hiding place.”
Taking a sheet of paper from his shirt pocket, he passed it across the table for Gail and Bill to see. “That’s a copy of the agreement between Matt and me. It covers the timber tract above Beaver Dam, the estimated board feet, and the attached court order holding up the gates until the last day of November.”
Jacobs smiled, “There’s no doubt about this being Matt’s signature either. I’d recognize that scrawl of his from a mile away.”
He passed the papers over for Gail and finished, “This is gonna blow the lid off the project at the dam. You do realize that, don’t you, Blake? Would Max Pary kill to get his precious lake property up for sale quicker? Is he in a money jam or something?”
“He might be, but now I’m a part of the deck. If they don’t kill me like they tried to do Chuck, then the gates are not going to close until the first of December.”
Jacobs thought a moment. He knew the wooded area upstream well. He had hunted the spot as a boy. “There’s a lot of hard wood in that strip and some pine as well. It’s got to be worth a small fortune to the right company.”
Blake reached inside the folder again and removed a tattered book with a frayed and well-worn cover. Gail recognized it immediately, “My sister kept one for those for years. So did I for that matter.”
Pointing, Jacobs asked, “Matt kept a diary?”
Blake held the book up. “Nope, but Claudia Pary did.”
The name confused Jacobs. “Did you say, Claudia? Wasn’t she the one who...”
“Yea she’s the one who supposedly murdered Tom Veal and was trying to kill his wife, her sister, Abatha Pary. You need to see something in here.”
Blake opened the book to a marked page midway through the diary and handed it to Jacobs. Gail leaned over his shoulder and together they read the hand written page dated August 17, 1944.
“Tom and I are leaving late tonight. We are going to elope, then get married in Charleston. I’m worried Abatha won’t take this lightly. She was Tom’s first fiancée but she played him like a cat toying with a mouse and he lost interest. She might hold a grudge against me for the rest of her life. I dearly love Tom and his son, Otis, and Max and Edie need a new father. I have to close for now. I’ll catch up when we return in a week.”
When Gail and Jacobs finished reading, Blake said, “I don’t know all the stories but everyone assumes that Abatha and Tom Veal eloped, not Claudia
“So everything was a lie? Abatha murdered them then turned it all around so she could take over Whispering Pines?” Jacobs didn’t seem surprised.
“She was jealous and poisoned both of them. That means the person who murdered them didn’t get the wrong cup by mistake.” Gail pointed out. “Claudia got the right one.”
“Yep, and then Abatha must have doctored up the wedding certificate.” Blake tossed in his two cents worth.
“Yes.” Jacobs agreed. “She took Claudia’s name off and put her name on. She also had to create a fake Will from Tom Veal too so she could inherit Whispering Pines estate. I wonder what happened to the real one.”
“Even with just the marriage license she and Chuck’s father would be the legal heirs under the law.” Gail was angry. “She found the will and destroyed it.”
“How did she beat Matt’s father out of his half?” Jacobs wondered aloud.
“I don’t know. She did raise Claudia’s two kids, Edie and Max.” Blake shook his head. “I guess they get the whole kit and caboodle when she dies.”
“You know?” Jacobs said. “It seems odd that a woman would be so jealous that she killed her own sister.”
Gail asked, “Is it possible that Claudia changed her mind and Abatha did marry Tom Veal?”
“It’s not likely. I don’t think a man would break up with his fiancé one day and marry another woman the next.”
“But, Bill, from what she wrote here, Tom and Abatha had been engaged at some point in time.” Gail was having trouble understanding what had happened.
“I think that was the part which was bothering Matt about the whole thing.” Blake said, “Here, read this.”
Jacobs took the papers Blake passed over. At first glance, it appeared to be a story. On closer inspection, he realized it was a dream. It said so at the bottom of the first page. Matt had written everything down in a hurried scrawl. Bill and Gail read it and then read it through again. Unknowing to either of them, it was part of the same dream Chuck had just experienced during the night at the hospital, the one that took place in the parlor at Whispering Pines.
When they had finished, Blake said, “Matt, according to that dream, was certain that Tom and Claudia were married and it was Abatha who killed them.”
“Wow.” Gail said. “Talk about a real life murder mystery, soap opera.”
“If that diary will hold up in court, and it should, then Whispering Pines estate, or at least a share of it, belongs to...”
“Chuck and Matt” Jacobs finished for Blake.
“Exactly” Blake offered. “That must be what Matt figured all along and it could be the reason he may have been killed.”
Jacobs gave a soft whistle. “You know? All these trails to trouble lead back to one place and that is Whispering Pines and the Pary family. That also means that Edie Pary figures into things more than we realize.”
“Do you suppose she’s the one who gave Matt this diary?” Gail suggested.
Blake shrugged. “I don’t know but I’d bet she could tell us.”
“What if this book was what she was after last night?” Jacobs was thinking like a cop now. “It could also be the thing she was after when Matt was killed.”
Gail shook her head. “Matt isn’t dead, Bill. I know this in my heart, but you do have a point, this much money, property, and prestige at risk would be enough to justify murder. Wouldn’t it?”
Jacobs stood, “I’m starting to think so.”
Blake asked,
“Eat some more food, Bill?”
“No thanks, Blake. I’m going over to Whispering Pines and talk with Miss Edie Pary.”
Gail took a deep breath, “I just thought of something. Why do they use the Pary name? If Edie and Max are the children of another man from a previous marriage, how did they end up with the Pary name?”
“I guess they took the Pary name back. Their father wasn’t a Pary so maybe when Abatha took the kids under her wings she changed their names to Pary.” Blake said.
Jacobs added, “Or had it thrust on them. Either way Gail is right. Their last names can’t be Pary.”
A moment after Jacobs left the house, Blake turned to Catfish who had been sitting silently listening to every word that went around the table. “I’m going to be leaving in a few minutes so I want you to head off into the trees someplace where you can watch the house close. I don’t want anyone coming or going while Gail is here without you standing there with a shotgun.”
“I got it, Blake. Miss Gail will be safer than a baby in a cotton ball factory.”
Simultaneously Gail and Blake said “Huh?”
Catfish walked out the back door and closed it quietly. Blake picked up Claudia’s diary and held it toward Gail. “Want to hold this?”
Gail almost gasped aloud thinking, ““He knows about my ability, or else he’s suspicious, but how?”“
“No, just leave it on the table and I’ll read through it later.”
“Okay, but you want to read this soon. Blake laid the book back down.
“Will you be all right alone for a little while? I need to get the ball rolling on this land situation. I’ll be at my office over at the mill and there will be somebody riding shotgun on the house until further notice.”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to take a shower and grab some sleep. Ya’ll wake me up if you hear anything from Chuck. Okay?”
“Don’t worry, if I hear anything I’ll let you know. I’m sending a guy to Macon. I want him to deliver a copy of these papers to the judge there. If that isn't enough then I want him to see copies of this diary and everything else that’s been going on down here for the last forty or fifty years.”
“You be careful too Blake. There is no telling who all is involved in this thing and how determined they are to stop us.”
She watched the big man step out the door and with one hand reached for the hat stuck in his back belt. He placed it atop his head, looked back at Gail, and then closed the door quietly.
A few moments later she heard his truck crank and drive away.
“Pick it up…pick it up… the nickel has much to show you.”
Her hand reached for the diary and touched the cover. It felt cool, leathery, and soft considering how old it was… and then she was in the parlor of Whispering Pines Mansion watching a small young boy play on the floor in front of her. The boy was Otis Veal, Chuck’s father as a child.
“Auntie, Can’t I stay up and wait for papa to get here?”
“No, Otis, it’s already past your bedtime and Miss Abatha asked you and me to be in bed by nine o’clock. She’s going to wait up for them.”
Gail’s finger moved off the diary and the vision faded.
“Pick it up…picks it up… the nickel has much to show you.”
With a determined effort of both hope and fear, Gail grasped the old book in her hands and time faded.
She heard a grandfather clock chiming from downstairs at Whispering Pines. Nine, ten, eleven, she counted and then the clock fell silent. She was in a bedroom dimly lit by soft moonlight from outside. The curtains fluttered slightly from breeze wafting through an open window. She heard the sound of a young child’s steady breathing from a smaller bed that stood across the room. Then she saw lights moving outside, car headlights that cast shadows through the limbs of a nearby Oak. “They’re home, back from the honeymoon.”
A car door closed, then a moment later a second one and voices, muffled by the distance and walls, reached her room. She worried the sounds might awaken Otis. Quietly getting out of bed, she reached for a housecoat and put it on over the gown then she tiptoed over to the small bed. The boy was sleeping soundly; breathing steadily, all was well in dreamland.
The front door of Whispering Pines opened and the voices grew louder, more distinct and a few of their words became coherent. She crept to the bedroom door and sheepishly placed her ear against the cool wood trying to listen. The first recognized voice was that of Abatha Pary.
“I’m so glad you made it home before it was too late. I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee. Why don’t the two of you go into the parlor and I’ll bring it there.”
The sound of an opening and closing door and then the clinks and shuffles in the kitchen, floated up the stairs then for several moments there was nothing until Abatha said, “Here we are. Nice hot coffee and I’ve put just a touch of brandy in there to help you relax and get to sleep after the long drive.”
“Thank you Abatha. I’m so happy that you’ve waited here for us tonight and especially happy that you’ve stopped by so often to check on the baby sitter and Otis while we’ve been gone. I did so want to talk with you about all this maybe tomorrow when we have time.”
Gail pressed her ear against the door harder because the voices were becoming indistinct and harder to understand. Moments passed, where all she could detect was the garble and warble of voices distorted. Then she heard a half scream.
“Abatha, what in God’s name have you done? Help him, please help him.”
“No, my dear sister, it’s too late. I’ve put poison in his coffee, yours too, and you will die. You stole him from me right out from under my nose... you are a wretch and whore. He was mine and then you fluttered your eyes at him. If I can’t have him then neither can you and neither can anyone else.”
The diary fell from Gail’s grasp. She felt weak, invaded, her soul and heartfelt raped. “Oh my, God,” she cried aloud and cupped her face in her hands, elbows on the table. “She killed them.”
The Beginning (Whispering Pines Book 1) Page 34
