“Square one?” I said.
“We may not be that far along. I’ll keep digging and let you know. I’m gonna send a guy over to talk with the girlfriend who alibied for Connell . Maybe if I aggravate her some, she’ll change her story. It’s a long shot. In the meantime, thought I’d give you a heads up on his release since he came to you about the dog.”
“Yeah, he might be a bit testy now that I was sort of involved in his apprehension.”
“Complicit,” Wineski said.
“Big word.”
“Gets people in lots of trouble.”
“Yeah. Thanks for calling. Anything else I can be complicit with you concerning?”
“Nothing comes to mind at present,” he chuckled. It was a rare sound coming from him. He had a strange sense of humor, but it was not the jovial kind, nor the expressive kind. Rare indeed was the sound of laughter coming from my friend and former boss.
“Keep me in the loop.”
“Done.”
“You concerned about that?” Rogers said as soon as the line was clear.
“Not very. At least not yet. He might come around again, but then, who knows? He waited nearly five years to come asking for compensation for a so-called lost dog. The guy has nerve. He abandons Sam, or Sam runs away from him, and then he wants me to give him… what, a hundred dollars? I think the man’s got some issues.”
“Maybe he was just desperate for money,” she said.
“Won’t fly…at least not if he is actually involved in those recent robberies. I don’t get it. No logic here.”
“When are you going to learn that humans are not logical?” Rogers said.
“More and more I seem to be closer to that deduction.”
“I would suggest sooner rather than later.”
“Noted.”
“Now, back to those yearbooks I found in the Unicoi High School library. I recall that it was their different last names that caught your attention,” she said.
I was remembering how it all came about.
Rogers did the research on Candace Glover and Jeffrey Goodall for an entire week. Not only did she find their high school yearbooks, at least some of them, but she also found a few of their elementary and middle school yearbooks. We were looking for a time in which their last names would have been the same. Since we knew that they were twins born to the same mother, and since we only found the birth certificate for Candace, we kept up our vigilance to see if we could figure out what had happened to baby Jeffrey and all of the whys connected to his birth and name and separation from his twin sister.
Two days into the second week I was bored out of my mind. Lying on the couch and convalescing had become my least favorite thing to do. McGrady had called once, but not to check on me. He simply called to see if I had learned anything. I told him about the relationship between Candace and Jeffrey. He grunted, nothing more.
“I’m going to Tennessee,” I said to Rogers.
“Are you permitted to drive?”
“They sewed up my back. They didn’t operate on my feet or legs. I think I can drive.”
“You might want to be cleared by the doctor.”
“I have no desire to contact the doctor to see if he would permit me to drive my car to Tennessee.”
“So, it’s a road trip come hell or high water and without a doctor’s permission.”
“Been reading again, huh? I think an excursion to the great state of Tennessee would be neither hell nor high water. I don’t need anyone’s permission.”
“That expression was quite common in some of the nineteen-fifties war flicks I have viewed. And it has nothing to do with Tennessee, only your driving there in such a fragile condition.”
“Fragile. Hell or high water. Obviously, you like the expression.”
“It’s quite pointed, you know.”
“I’m going to pack.”
“Going alone?”
“Well, you can’t go,” I said.
“Would if I could.” Her tone was one of disappointment.
I stayed on Hwy. 58 across Virginia until I reached Mouth of Wilson. For whatever reason it was there that I decided to call Wineski and tell him my plan that was underway. Unless Rogers squealed on me, McGrady was still in the dark.
I pulled over at a roadside picnic table. I wished that Sam was still with me. He might’ve enjoyed this trip.
My phone signal was strong, so I called Wineski.
“Are you crazy?” Wineski said when I told him where I was and where I was going.
“You ask me that a lot.”
“For good reason.”
“I’m as sane as you.”
“Not necessarily a ringing endorsement,” he shot back.
“I’m good. You worry too much. Needed to do some leg work on this. I’m headed to Elizabethton first. If I don’t get the answers to my questions there, then I’m off to Erwin. I’ll call you when I learn why Candace and Jeffrey have different last names.”
“I can offer you several plausible reasons for that,” he said.
“And none of them will hold any water up against the actual truth of the thing.”
“You assume that none of my reasons will be the actual truth.”
“Truth is generally stranger than imaginative fiction.”
“Don’t we know that,” he said. “Be careful.”
“You sound like my mother.”
“Somebody needs to remind you of your mortality,” he said, and the line went dead.
Phone etiquette would never be Wineski’s strong suit.
I headed towards Damascus, Virginia and then turned southeast toward Elizabethton. By the time I arrived it was dark and I was close to exhaustion. My back was hurting.
I bedded down at the Laurel Fancy Motel just outside of Elizabethton. I chose this particular motel because it was the first one I came to. It was a small place composed of ten units which were as close to Hwy. 91 as one would want to be without actually sitting on the highway surface. I was glad that traffic on that road was minimal that time of year.
I was also grateful for a place to sleep.
The mostly white-haired lady who checked me in was short, thin, and excessively kind. I noticed she had some remnants of auburn hair. I placed her age to be early sixties. I thought the red showing was a nice touch amid her beautiful gray. Her name was Mattie May.
“Where’re you from?” she asked as I handed her the money for the night’s lodging.
“Norfolk.”
“Long way from here.”
“Tell me about it. I left this morning. Glad to be here.”
“Business or pleasure?”
“Might be both, who knows?”
“You passing through on your way to some place or is this your destination of choice?”
“Depends on the answers I get from my questions.”
“You a newspaper woman?”
“No.”
“I like your hair. Had that color until ten years ago. Then it left.”
“You wear the gray well,” I said and smiled.
“You like animals?” she asked.
I thought it a strange question.
“Yeah. Why do you ask?”
“Just curious, nothing more. I judged you to be an animal lover. I’m guessing you like dogs over cats.”
“You’d be right,” I confirmed her guess.
“I like animals. Prefer cats. I had a pet cat named Rhoda. One of those taffy varieties. Smart a cat as I have ever heard tell of. She was always one step ahead of me on whatever it was that was happening. Had a pretty good vocabulary, too. You have a dog?”
“I think so.”
“I don’t understand.”
I told her enough of Sam’s short life with for her to get the idea.
“You must lead an interesting life.”
“Some days.”
“You and Sam, the missing dog, talk much?”
I smiled and nodded. “You’d think he reads a lot. Good vocabula
ry and it seems to be growing.”
“Well,” she began, then looked down at the registry and back up at me, “welcome to my establishment, Clancy Evans. Checkout time is noon. If you need to stay longer, let me know at the time of checkout. Hope you get your dog back.”
I nodded.
“You run this place alone?” I said.
“Ever since Conroy died. He and I worked this place some forty years. He passed last year. Good friend. Good husband. Good business partner. All three are hard to come by anymore.”
“Thanks for the room,” I said and headed straight for bed.
Chapter 19
It was a few minutes past 7:30 next morning when I returned to Mattie May’s counter to check out.
“Early start,” she said as I handed her my room key.
“I got up in time to walk a little and take a hot shower. I’m used to jogging, but I’m recovering from an injury. Can’t jog just yet.”
“Hope you heal fast,” she said. “You looking for anyone in particular in Elizabethton?”
“How do you know I’m looking for someone?”
“Your eyes. They’re searching. You notice almost everything. Your eyes dance around, hither and yon, always takin’ in things. I’d bet even money you’re looking for someone.”
“No one in particular, just some answers to a few questions.”
“You had breakfast yet?”
“Didn’t see any restaurant to visit,” I said.
“None to see until you get closer to town. I have some pancake batter mixed up in the back. I’m about to fix some for myself. You interested?”
“I don’t want to put you out,” I said.
“Wouldn’t have invited you if I thought you’d be trouble,” she smiled.
“Pancakes sound good to me.”
I drank her delicious hot coffee while I waited for our pancakes. She hummed while she fixed. Her friendliness was enjoyable. My investigative trips do not always produce such winsome characters. They do produce characters, but not all are as enchanting as Mattie May. Refreshing difference. Noticeable.
“Syrup or jam?” she asked.
“Syrup, please,” I said.
She put a stack of pancakes on my plate more fitting for a lumberjack than a woman of my figure. I could eat, no denying that, but I usually chose not to eat such a quantity. I counted eight thick pancakes.
“You must think I’m hungry.”
“You look hungry,” she smiled again.
She pushed the syrup pitcher across the small table in my direction. I took it and started to pour.
“You mind if I say a blessing here? I try to be thankful for all of my customers. They keep me alive you know.”
“Not at all,” I said and waited for her lead.
“Lord, bless this lady traveler. If it’s in keeping with your larger plan, let her dog come home. I think she misses him. Thank you for sending her my way. And thanks for the food and the wherewithal to buy it. Amen.”
I opened my eyes and discovered that she was looking at me. I smiled. She was a refreshing woman, for sure. I appreciated her mentioning my lost dog in her blessing.
I adored her frankness as well as her terse honesty about life and such. When you run into someone like Mattie May, it gives you another view of the sometimes-sordid world in which I work. But not all of it is sordid. Good to be reminded of that.
I also had a penchant for short prayers. Growing up in Virginia and being dragged to church every Sunday, I became quite the critic of those in my mother’s church who tried to impress God with their windy wordy prayers. Preachers could be just as ostentatious as the laity. I believed in telling God exactly what was on my mind without embellishing. I used to wonder if God would get weary of so many words being spouted. I know it got to me more than a few times. I could only imagine the Deity having issues with those of us who have a hard time getting to the point.
“I’ve lived around these parts for all of my life. Throw one of your questions at me. I might be able to throw back an answer or tell you where you can go to get the answer,” she said just before she took a bite of her abundant stack of pancakes.
I was busy chewing when she spoke, so I had to wait a minute or so before I could respond. The pancakes were as good as any my mother and Sara had fixed when I was a child coming along in Clancyville, Virginia. She had placed walnuts and blueberries into her batter along with some brown sugar and a familiar flavor. I noticed the small, dark brown bottle on the counter behind my hostess. I had watched my mother and Sara whip up pancakes and waffles and add just a smidgen of the flavoring. It had to be vanilla.
“I need some information about a couple of young people who were born in Elizabethton more than twenty years ago. They didn’t stay here all of their lives, and I don’t know when they left. I have a hunch that they didn’t leave together.”
“You’re a detective, aren’t you?” she said looking across her small, table-clothed table directly into my eyes.
“Private one. Used to be a policewoman in Norfolk several years back. Decided to be my own boss. I work better that way.”
“I understand. I figured you for a detective. Red hair and green eyes. Wow, quite the combination. I had the red hair, not as bright as yours,” she said. “But my eyes are brown. I am curious about things, but we brown-eyed redheads don’t go around asking too many questions about people. We leave that for you green-eyed reds.”
She laughed at me. I found myself laughing with her. Her laughter was quite contagious.
“You got names for those two young folks?” she said.
I finished chewing another bite. Her pancakes were scrumptious.
“The girl’s name was Candace and the boy’s name was Jeffrey,” I said and took another bite.
The sound of her fork falling on her platter startled me since I wasn’t looking at her after I had given the names. I was busy carving out another section of my pancake mound. My eyes shifted quickly from my breakfast feast to her. Her face was pale, and her demeanor had moved from pleasant curiousness to mild alarm.
“Sorry about the fork,” she said. “I suppose I always figured that someone would come along some day and ask some questions about those twins.”
Chapter 20
I discovered that Mattie May had worked in Carter County as a midwife for most of her life. She had delivered several hundred babies in her career.
“I had to stop when Conroy died. It’s been almost eleven months since I watched a baby come into the world. Watched…huh. I helped him in most cases, but not all. Some babies come as if they can’t wait to get here and get on with life. Others, well, they come slow or hard or… cautious. It’s as if they’re not so sure about this place. I miss it, you know. It’s a real joy to see healthy babies and most of the time happy mothers. But not always; that is, the mothers are not always happy to be giving birth.”
“You were working in a hospital and helped to deliver the twins?” I said.
“Nope, not even close. Twins were home births, believe it or not. That was not the thing to do back when they came into the world. This was one of those clandestine situations. The mother and the parents of the mother wanted this whole thing to be kept a deep, dark secret. Like you could keep a pregnancy a secret. Ha. People are funny, but I bet you’ve already discovered that.”
“More than once,” I said. “But not necessarily funny-ha-ha. More like funny-huh.”
My comment made her laugh.
“I get your meaning. Anyway, this young mother gave birth to the baby girl first and then the boy. It was no more than three minutes at most between the births. Both came in at about five pounds and some change. Don’t recall exactly, but I’m close.”
“No father around?” I said.
“Well,” she smiled, “he’d been around earlier, but not when the girl needed him the most. He was the kind of boy that did what he wanted to do, but don’t get me wrong. That young girl wasn’t innocent in the ways of the world either
. She was as guilty over what took place as he was. He just didn’t show up for the births. I remember she expected him to be there with her. He didn’t even call to check on her. Just her mother, me, and the youngster. Then the twins, of course.”
“Where in Elizabethton did this event take place?” I said.
“Didn’t.”
“I found a birth certificate for Candace that informed me she was born there.”
“Of course, you did. Anybody can put anything on a piece of paper. Surely you know that by now. Those twins were born right here in this tiny motel.”
“So you fudged that official document?”
“Listen, girl, that mother and daughter wanted nothing to do with those babies. Absolutely nothing. As soon as I was able to clean them, cut the cords, and make sure that they were physically okay, I tried to give them back to the mother to reinforce some love. You know, the kind of warmth and tenderness we all crave, and we all need. She would have none of it. Didn’t even want to see them, let alone touch them.”
“And the girl’s mother?”
“Worse than her daughter. Told me to get those babies out of her sight. She never wanted to see them again.”
“So, after I did all that I could do as a midwife for those precious little souls, and then for that young girl, I got Conroy to come take those precious babies back to our living quarters. I had to make some quick preparations to house those little folks, but I also had an obligation to make sure that the girl was okay as well.”
“So you had your husband take the babies and you stayed with the young girl and her mother.”
“I helped Conroy carry the infants. I didn’t have him to carry both of them. After we got them situated and I was reasonably sure that they were okay, I told Conroy to guard them with his life and to come get me if anything happened that he thought was unusual. Then I went back to the girl and her mother.”
“Interesting event, huh?”
“You don’t know the half of it. Guess which room she birthed those babies in.”
“I have no idea.”
“Room 9,” she said and smiled.
Jewel of a Murderer Page 12
