“And the reason for that?”
“His name’s not Reddy because he’s a blond,” she said, sat down and looked at more slides in her other sophisticated microscope at the far end of her long table.
Chapter 40
Starnes Carver gave me the impression that Reddy Reese was someone I needed if I was to be successful with my attempt to talk with Samuel Bernstein. Sam and I made good time across Virginia. We took I-77 South to Hwy. 421, then we headed west and stopped in Boone for the night. Tired and hungry.
The next morning, we got an early start and maneuvered our way through some short cuts that Starnes had suggested from Boone to Burnsville. We were on Hwy. 19E before ten o’clock. She gave me some clear info on what to look for concerning Reddy Reese. His place was easy to spot since it was almost immediately on the right side of the road just after I turned off Hwy. 19E towards Grey Wolf Road.
Cars, trucks, and other metal equipment were neatly scattered around the front of his building. To say that he was a mechanic of some renown was to utter the obvious. Tractors and other farm-type equipment were sandwiched in between the other metal machines waiting their turn. I even saw a kid’s red wagon sitting on top of one of the tractors. It took me no time at all to figure out that Reddy Reese did not have the word no in his vocabulary.
It was warm for that time of year and the large heavy garage door was open. A car was on a lift and there was a man underneath humming a lively tune I did not recognize. What I did recognize was the flaming locks of red protruding out from his St. Louis Cardinal baseball cap. Being a Braves’ fan myself, I easily recognized the logo since I had seen the Cardinals and the Braves play many times in my life.
“Mister Reese?” I said, attempting to move his attention from whatever engine part upon which he was focused to me.
His back was to me and he never flinched. He didn’t relocate his focus either.
“Yeah?” he said.
“I need your help.”
“Most people do.”
“Not with my car.”
“Truck?” he said.
“Don’t need the mechanic side of you,” I said.
I really thought that this line would cause him to turn slightly and look in the direction of the female voice with whom he was talking.
No such luck.
“Which side do you need?” he said.
“The side that can open doors.”
“Sounds mechanical to me,” he said.
Finally, I gave up on getting his attention. I played the only card I had left in my deck besides drawing my weapon and firing in the air.
“Starnes Carver told me to find you and enlist your help,” I said.
“Glory be!” he yelled and moved from underneath the lift and looked at me as if we had been long, lost cousins with a history of relationships. He smiled as broadly as possible.
“Well, well,” he said to me. “Don’t you have a way that’s easy on a person. Goodness knows, love that red hair, lady.”
He took his ball cap off and bowed his head more to show me his locks than as any gesture of knighthood. He shook his head and his hair hung even lower. When he raised up, I could see that he definitely had a head of hair, full, bushy, lively red. It hung almost to his shoulders. Freckles nearly covered his face.
“You know my name. What’s yours?” he said still smiling.
“Clancy.”
He walked directly at me. I thought he was going to hug me. I moved back just a step. Then he spotted Sam.
“Hey there, aren’t you the handsome one?” he yelled at Sam.
Sam trotted over to him as if he had known Reddy Reese since puppyhood. Reddy squatted and rubbed and patted while Sam licked his face and his hands. Talk about a quick bond.
“So, you know Starnes Carver,” he said to me, standing again. He took a dirty red rag from his back pocket, wiped his greasy hands on it, and then extended his right hand to me in a gesture of greeting. I would have preferred the hug.
I took his hand and we shook.
“A little,” I said in answer to his query regarding Starnes. “We work together, well, sorta work together. She works for the Norfolk Police full time. I help on occasion.”
“What are you, some private law person?”
“Investigator.”
“That why you’re here?”
“Need to find someone and ask them some questions.”
“Let me clean up and then we’ll talk some more,” he said and went back into his shop.
Sam and I waited about twenty minutes. Reddy Reese finally emerged. This time he was clean. The grease was gone, a new shirt was on, but he still had that full head of hair underneath that St. Louis Cardinal baseball cap, as well as the ready smile.
“Let’s go a piece down the road and find some coffee. The stuff in my shop can also be used in place of 10W-30 motor oil in these engines I repair. Not fit for a lady like you. Come on, let’s go find a suitable coffee pot and maybe some sweets.”
He climbed into a new Ford pickup faster than I could move from my spot. He lowered the window.
“Sam can ride in the back; you ride up front with me. Come on. Let’s go.”
We headed off in the wrong direction. At least it was away from where I thought we should have been going. But then, I hadn’t had the chance to tell him where I wanted him to go.
“Where are you taking us?” I said to my recent acquaintance.
“Billy’s.”
“Right. And this is because?”
“Best coffee in town.”
“Town,” I repeated.
He laughed. “Yeah, for you city slicks, we have a wider definition out here. I should say best coffee around.”
He drove about five miles back in the direction I had come and then pulled off to the right from Hwy. 19E onto a graveled parking area in front of a rather non-descript building where there were other Ford trucks parked. The sign, the old sign, on the top front of the non-descript building told me we were at Billy’s.
“Coffee, huh?” I said.
“And great sweet rolls. Jane makes them.”
“Jane being…?”
“Billy’s wife of forty-plus years.”
“Right.”
“Bring the dog,” he said as he crawled out of his truck and headed towards the front door of Billy’s place.
Sam and I entered just behind Reddy Reese. Not sure what I expected, but Billy’s wasn’t it. Maybe I thought we were walking into some type of eating establishment or something akin to that concept. If you’ve ever been to one of those hardware-type stores in some small towns that sell literally everything you could imagine and then some, then you have an idea of what Billy’s was like. Think large, long, wide with high ceilings and some ceiling fans extending down from the ceilings via long pipes toward the dirty, hardwood floor and then stopping about ten feet from that hardwood floor. There was shelving on two walls, my right side and the back, which climbed upward towards fifteen feet, maybe more. Ladders were a requisite to reach the stuff on the top shelves. Three rows of shelving in the middle not quite as high as the units on those two walls were heavily laden with everything you could imagine. And then some. To our immediate left was a long counter that looked as if Billy had taken it from a 1950’s diner, complete with soda fountain and all the other trappings of such a place as that. The only thing I couldn’t spot immediately was a pot-bellied stove encircled by old barrels for the storytellers to sit and spin their yarns. Or play checkers. Or solve whatever political crisis the government had for its citizenry.
Reddy sat down in the midst of the men gathered. Two stools were available. Sam sat down on his haunches behind me. I was the singular woman in the place. Not uncomfortable, but clearly outnumbered in case there came a gender vote. I knew Sam would side with me.
A white haired, mustached thin man came over and stood in front of me. He smiled a little, wiped the area that could be said to be mine, and waited. I expected him to ask me someth
ing. Didn’t happen.
“Tell Billy what you want,” Reddy said.
“Coffee. Black.”
“And the other thing,” Reddy said.
“I’m good.”
“I thought you came here looking for someone,” Reddy said.
“I came to you looking for someone. I was told you would help. I came here for coffee and because you drove me.”
Reddy laughed. Billy smiled but said nothing.
“Tell Billy who you want to talk to.”
I looked at Billy who was waiting without any hint of hurry about him. I easily imagined him to be one of extraordinary serenity. Billy had all the time in the world. Not only did he not know the word hurry, he likely wouldn’t understand it. There was no angst or urgency in the body language of the man named Billy now standing across that counter from me. He wiped slowly and never took his eyes off me except to cut some side glances at Reddy and then a couple of times at Sam.
“Doctor Samuel Bernstein,” I said.
Billy stopped wiping my little area on the counter. He looked at Reddy and then back at me. Then his eyes shifted just a little so that his focus was now Sam, the wonder dog seated behind me. Billy smiled at Sam.
“Imagine that,” Billy said. “Black coffee coming up. Good looking dog.”
Chapter 41
I drank the delicious coffee provided by Billy and watched Reddy consume his brew as well as the homemade sweet rolls he had ordered. Now and then Reddy would ooh and ah after taking a bite of the sweet rolls. They looked good I have to admit. However, I managed with great force of character to keep myself from indulging. Something about a girl and her figure kept crossing my mind. Staying in shape is not for the weak of character.
Billy came over after several minutes and stood in the same spot as before. I sipped my coffee and looked at him. This time I was the one waiting on him. He had something on his mind. Merely an observation.
“You’re a Democrat,” he said.
Not what I expected him to say. Not that I had any idea what Billy might say to me, but certainly that was not high on the list of possibilities at the moment.
“Not a crime, I hope,” I said to him.
“Depends.”
“On what?” I said.
“Whether you’re a politician in office,” he said.
“And if I were?”
“Then it’s a crime,” he said. He smiled after wiping a little more of the counter close to my coffee cup, then he walked away. Slowly. With purpose.
“You’re making friends fast,” Reddy said to me.
“How can you tell?”
“He didn’t ask you to leave.”
Reddy finished all of his sweet rolls and asked for two more. An attractive brunette brought the rolls to Reddy. She smiled and left.
“That’s Jane,” Reddy said.
“Billy’s wife,” I said.
“Right. A few years younger, but not as many as you might think. Well kept. Takes good care of herself. Cooks and sings.”
“While she bakes?”
“You mean the singing? Naw…she sings at church. Voice like an angel, maybe better.”
“Attractive,” I said.
“Whattaya think?” Reddy said.
“About what?”
“This place?”
“Tall ceiling, good coffee, and lots of ambience.”
“Now, Clancy Evans, one thing you and I need to get straight. I know a lot of words and lots of notions, but I’m not here with you to increase my vocabulary. I can guess what that word ambience likely means. But when you talk to me, you need to gear it down to a different level.”
“Spice,” I said. “This place has lots of spice.”
Reddy laughed. “Good synonym,” he said. “Smells good, too.”
I shook my head. I knew that I was dealing with an interesting character. Starnes surely had known this when she pointed me in his direction.
The coffee there was quite good. It was so good I had another cup while I waited on Reddy to finally finish eating his sweet rolls and drinking his brew. Without my noticing, the place had cleared of most of the men. One or two sat off from us toward the back of the store.
Billy approached me once more.
“You got business with Bernstein?” he said.
“Just need some answers to a few questions about one of his patients years back.”
“He doesn’t like strangers.”
“Then I need an introduction.”
I slid my coffee cup toward Billy. He took it as a sign that I wanted it filled. He turned, grabbed the pot behind him, and filled it.
“Is that what you want from me?” Billy said.
“Frankly, Mister Billy,” I said, “Reddy Reese brought me to you. I have no idea what I want from you.”
Billy looked at Reddy.
“Has some grit, doesn’t she?” Billy said.
“It’s the hair,” Reddy said and laughed. Shrewd detective that I am, I noticed that Reddy Reese laughed a lot. Likely went with his networking skill set.
Billy smiled. It wasn’t a broad full-faced smile, but it was slow, casual, and genuine.
“Bernstein lives a good piece from here,” Billy said.
“I know the general direction, but my friend Starnes Carver told me that I shouldn’t go up there alone.”
“Starnes Carver,” Billy repeated. “How on earth is she?”
“Well. Enjoys her work in Norfolk.”
“Smart kid, that Starnes. Comes from good stock. Republicans, mostly.”
“I can see that you are a man of considerable political intrigue,” I said.
“I have no idea what you mean by that, but I’ll take it as a compliment since you said it with so much heart.”
“Suggestions?” Reddy said to Billy.
Billy stood for a moment, said nothing, and then walked away.
“He’s thinking,” Reddy said to me.
I turned to check on Sam, and he was gone. I spun around on my counter seat, the round, rolling variety. I looked all over the store from my seated location but couldn’t see him. It wasn’t like him to leave me without notice.
“He’s okay,” Reddy said. “He’s with Jane.”
“You saw him leave?” I said.
“When she delivered my second batch of rolls. I saw her wink at him. He didn’t even hesitate. Dogs know intuitively what a wink from a woman means.”
“She like dogs?”
“She likes that one.”
“How do you know?”
“She invited him back to the kitchen.”
“Isn’t there some health law against that?”
“This is Billy’s place,” Reddy said, then laughed.
A few minutes later Billy returned and stood in front of us.
“Jane’ll go with you,” he said and then walked away once more.
“Man of few words,” I said.
“Come on,” Reddy said as he jumped from his rolling stool and headed to the back of the store. I followed.
We entered the kitchen area located behind a doorway covered by a large drape that extended from the top almost to the floor. Rings in the top of the multi-colored drape held it to the rod that was wedged in the door jamb. Reddy held the drape up for me as I walked through the doorway.
Sam was resting on the floor indulging on a huge bone provided by a fan. He looked up at me, licked his mouth a time or two, and then went back to his business with absolute relish.
“Let me get my coat and we can go, if you’re ready to leave,” Jane said to us.
“We’re ready,” Reddy said.
A few seconds later, Jane emerged wearing a parka that was padded with layers of fur and a hood that was flopping on her back. I wondered.
She walked through the draped door ahead of us. Reddy must have read my mind.
“She knows where we’re headed,” he said.
“More than I know,” I said.
“Yeah, I guessed that when I noticed yo
u wearing nothing more than a jacket after you told me what you wanted.”
“Underdressed?”
“It’s a tad colder up towards High Peak,” he said, smiled widely, and headed out.
“Sam, we’re leaving now. Bring your bone.”
Sam jumped to his feet, clinched the bone with his iron-like teeth-grip, and trotted behind Reddy. I followed the troupe out to the truck. Sam jumped into the back with his bone securely gripped in his mouth. The three of us bunched together into Reddy’s cab. It was spacious but the temperature was a little chilly.
“Clancy Evans, you ready for an adventure?” Reddy said to me as he leaned over the steering wheel looking in my direction. I was riding shotgun.
“Always.”
Chapter 42
Thirty minutes later we were climbing the mountain towards High Peak. Of course, I had no idea how long a trip this might be. Reddy had stopped at his business on the way and retrieved a sweatshirt for me to put on under my jacket. He also handed me some work gloves that had long since lost whatever original color they might have had. I’m not immune to dirt, but I don’t relish the idea of putting my hands inside an object covered with dirt unless it is absolutely essential. The grime, grease, and other particles of dirt were such that I simply chose not to put the gloves on my hands. I folded them and stuck them inside my jacket pocket.
On the way I wondered why Jane was traveling with us. Reddy had said nothing to indicate her role in this encounter with Dr. Bernstein. I decided it would be inappropriate to ask why she was going along. Tantamount to looking a gift horse in the mouth, I figured. My mother would likely tell me it would be tacky to ask. I chose not to be tacky.
I was a long way from home, so I decided to play nice with my new playmates. Mother always said I had the gift of pretend.
The sky was overcast with the sun trying its best to break through without much success. I would have called it a dismal gray. Shades of gray. The sun’s effort was a good sign for me. Now and then I could see a pale shadow of some trees as Reddy drove cautiously along the mountain road. The sun never did clear away even a small section of clouds. Still, its hidden presence seemed encouraging to me. I take what I can get from nature.
Jewel of a Murderer Page 23
