Jewel of a Murderer

by M. Glenn Graves

  “My luck.”

  “Yep, your luck.”

  “How’d you know this? You told me you didn’t know this Jasper Connelly.”

  “Still don’t, but I know Reddy Reese. I called him and told him that you were coming back to Yancey and needed to see him.”

  She chewed beans and cornbread. I put my fork down and waited. I was trying to process this development.

  “And you told him why.”

  “Yes.”

  “And he said…what?”

  “Mumbled something about blood and water and marriage. Then he said he’d have to think about it. Then he said that we should come on over whenever you arrive. He wanted to see you again anyway, but that this might be too much to cut through.”

  “Too much to cut through,” I repeated and cursed my luck under my breath.

  St. Jude was looming larger and larger in my need for help.

  I knew I had to have Reddy Reese’s help if I was to find Jasper Connelly in Yancey County. Maybe I should actually consider talking this over with St. Jude.

  Chapter 58

  Rosey advised me to wait before I got all stirred up over this development. He reminded me of my persuasive charm. Starnes didn’t say much about it. She knew it would be an uphill climb no matter what sort of charm I might use on the man. Starnes knew the people of the mountains and that kinship was a powerful force. Bloodlines counted for something, whether it was DNA or marriage. Outsiders, like myself, generally had a tough time locating folks whenever the outsiders came searching for the insiders, those who lived there or who were born there. Close ties. Closer family ties. Blood and water. Something akin to that.

  We left early the next morning after coffee and biscuits. Starnes was developing into a mountain chef. Dog remained behind to guard the place. I missed Sam more than ever now that I had been reacquainted with Dog.

  I slept well that night, but I was still weak from my recent gunshot wounds and the lodging in the hospital. Nothing like a few days in a hospital to drain one’s stamina. Gunshot wounds notwithstanding.

  “Tell me about Reddy’s wife,” I said to Starnes.

  “Can’t,” she said.

  “Made a promise or lack of info?”

  “Latter. Don’t know anything about the girl.”

  “Younger than Reddy?”

  “I think so, but I have no details to contribute. We’ll find out together,” she said.

  Starnes Carver had been a crime scene investigator and evidence-gatherer for the Norfolk Police Department for several years. She was good at what she did. She was also good at many other skills.

  “Are you working for the McAdams County Sheriff’s Department these days?” I said.

  “As needed.”

  “Nothing regular.”

  “Nothing daily. Crimes occur and they call me when they get in a pinch.”

  “How do you stay busy?”

  “Walking the dog and writing my memoirs,” she said without a trace of passion.

  “How’s that coming along?”

  “Dog loves it.”

  “I meant the memoirs,” I said.

  “Lost the pencil.”

  “How far along were you when the pencil went missing?”

  “Still examining my birth certificate.”

  “So, most days you walk the dog.”

  “That’s about it.”

  “Now we bring you some excitement.”

  “Joy and rapture,” she said in her usual flat tone.

  I was stretched out in the back seat on our trip over to Yancey to meet with Reddy Reese and to endeavor to secure his assistance. Starnes was riding shotgun. Rosey was the designated driver since he owned the car. Starnes made no mention of the St. Jude statue in front of her.

  Rogers called me for an update. Starnes was the only other person besides Rosey who knew of Rogers’ special skills, so I was able to talk freely with Rogers. I told her about Reddy’s marriage into the Connelly Clan.

  “Nothing as yet. On our way to see what Mister Reese will have to say.”

  “Sounds as if you have some relational issues at hand.”

  “At best. I’ll take my best shot and see what happens. The worst he could do would be to tell me to go back to Norfolk.”

  “I’d say the worst he could do would be to shoot you for even asking for his help.”

  “Optimism reigns supreme with you,” I said.

  “Just a note of caution for the boss lady.”

  “See what you can find on Reddy’s wife.”

  “Give me something to work with,” she said.

  “I think they married about two years ago.”

  “That’s it?”

  “You got it all, babe.”

  “You push me to the limits sometimes.”

  “I exude fabulous amounts of confidence in your keen abilities,” I said.

  “Oh, brother,” she said with disgust in her voice. “I’ll get back to you if and when I find something.”

  “Buttering up the computer?” Rosey said.

  “Priming the pump,” I said.

  “You two are more like sisters than any two siblings I know,” Starnes said.

  I closed my eyes to think about our situation and about Sam. The next thing I knew was that Rosey had put us on a road with a giant pothole and I suffered a rude awakening from my nap. I also suffered some pain from my three wounds. My injuries made me keenly aware of my recent adventure with Jasper Stone Connelly.

  Rosey slowed the Jag and pointed to the right.

  “Is that the place we’re headed?” he said.

  I shifted in the seat and looked out the window. There was a large sign in front of a familiar building – Reese’s Body and Engine Repair. The area in front of his place was now paved. A chain link fence protruded out from both sides of his fortress and from what I could tell, the lot on the sides and the back were filled with cars and trucks, more than I remembered. Business was good. The front was clear of cars and trucks to be repaired. There was a truck and a late model Ford parked near the door.

  Reddy Reese had upgraded considerably.

  “This is the place,” I said. “Changed, but somewhat the same. He has made some improvements.”

  The front door to his shop opened and a smiling Reddy Reese walked out to greet us. He shook hands with Rosey as if they were old friends. He hugged Starnes and me. Starnes almost smiled but managed to restrain herself. I was glad to see him again. He looked good.

  Reese had not aged much at all in the last several years. He looked as strong and vigorous as he had ever looked. He still smiled most of the time per usual. Genuine smile, nothing political.

  “Where’s the dog?” Reddy said.

  “One of the reasons I came to see you,” I said.

  “He’s not dead, I hope.”

  “I hope not.”

  Reddy looked puzzled.

  “I don’t live here anymore,” he said as he gestured to the building behind him. “You know by now that I’m married, so I had to move to a place with more comfort. Follow me. I want you to meet someone special. We’ll be going through some familiar territory for you,” he said to me.

  “That was a few years back, Reddy,” I said.

  “It hasn’t changed much. You’re in the mountains.”

  “I assume it’s your wife you want us to meet,” I said.

  “Cathy,” he beamed. “You’ll never guess where I met her.”

  “Probably over coffee and sweet rolls,” I said remembering his weakness for that combination.

  “Wow, I’m impressed, Clancy Evans. After all these years. Yep, met her at Billy’s one day when I was over there enjoying Jane’s sweets and that good coffee. Love at first sight.”

  “Good for you,” I said.

  “Well, I should be more candid and say that it was love at first sight for me. It took a while to woo her into liking me.”

  “That’s hard to believe,” I said.

  “Well, come on. Follow
me to the house. I want you to meet her.”

  “Looking forward to it,” I said forcing some enthusiasm.

  I lied. The last thing I wanted to do was to meet the person that would hinder me from finding Sam and taking Jasper Connelly back to Norfolk to be charged with murder. I had a bad feeling about this imminent encounter with the woman of Reddy Reese’s dreams.

  We followed Reddy as he turned off Ivy Gap onto Grey Wolf Road. We were heading up towards High Peak. My geographical memory kicked in and the terrain took on a familiar feel. He was correct that little had changed except for my faded recollections of the surroundings. The road seemed to be in better condition, but I wouldn’t swear to it. I thought there were more houses on the road this time; but again, memory can fail in that regard.

  Rogers called.

  “I found some info. Diligence and cleverness pay handsome dividends for the likes of me,” she began. “Cathy Connelly, just so you’ll know, was forty-two when they married. Married in Yancey County at the Ivy Gap Church of Christ.”

  “That it?”

  “No. I was waiting for you to acknowledge.”

  “Acknowledged,” I said with a heavy sigh.

  “You want to call me back when you’re in a better humor?” she said.

  “My humor is just fine, thank you. Tell me what you’ve got. We could be approaching their home any second now.”

  “Your humor, as you refer to it, leaves a lot to be desired. You might need an attitude adjustment.”

  “I was thinking of the same thing about you,” I said.

  “My attitude comes from living with you.”

  “Touché.”

  “She’s the youngest of five children. Two of her siblings died at birth. Both were males. The three survivors, all females.”

  “Of course.”

  “Survival of the fittest. The oldest is a sister named Rosa Leigh Connelly Briggs. She’s in her sixties. The other older sister is named Mimosa Connelly. Divorced after a year and never married again. She’s in her late fifties.”

  “That it?”

  “No. I was pausing for effect.”

  “Effect received. Go ahead and tell me now that the drama has passed.”

  “Cathy’s parents are Shebo and Maybelline Connelly.”

  I expected more but nothing came. The pause was too long. I thought our connection had been dropped.

  “You still there?”

  “I am.”

  “Is there more?”

  “Don’t you just love the drama of working with me?”

  “If you had a neck, I’d strangle you.”

  Rosey laughed from the front seat. Starnes turned and stared at me without expression.

  “Her father is Shebo Stone Connelly. Don’t you find that intriguing?”

  “A bit.”

  “Her mother died ten years ago. Her father, Shebo, is still alive, or at least I can find no record of his demise. I can find no record of him concerning anything for the last decade or so. It’s as if he dropped off the planet.”

  “So the giving of the stone name goes back to another generation. It didn’t originate with Pearl as we had once thought,” I said.

  “Correct.”

  “And if the pattern is consistent, then Shebo is a name for a jewel. Sounds Semitic. Am I close?”

  “Spot on, Sherlock. Hebrew for agate.”

  “You have an age or estimate for Shebo Stone Connelly?”

  “Mid-eighties, give or take a year or two. Couldn’t locate a birth certificate on him.”

  “Can I assume that Shebo and Garnet come from the same quarry?”

  “Cute. But yes, you are correct. Brothers. Two jewels of their parents, no doubt.”

  “So, the likelihood is that if Jasper did come back to Yancey County, then his dear Uncle Shebo is likely the one protecting him.”

  “Clever PI that you are, I’d say so. Even money on that.”

  “Because?”

  “Because outside of Jasper’s Uncle Shebo, Cathy’s papa, only those female cousins remain in his family tree. Cathy and her two elder sisters.”

  “So, all I have to do is get Reddy’s wife, Cathy Connelly, to give me his location.”

  “You are assuming that it is Daddy Shebo who is hiding Jasper. Could be Cathy’s sisters.”

  “Could be. I will hold onto that possibility. Papa Shebo is likely the better candidate.”

  “May take more than your usual charm.”

  “Suggestions?” I said to Rogers.

  “Talk to Saint Jude.”

  Chapter 59

  I had barely enough time to share my updated info with Starnes and Rosey before we arrived at Reddy’s destination.

  “Look familiar?” Reddy grinned as he closed his truck door and walked toward the three of us as we emerged from the Jag.

  “You buy it from the doctor?” I said.

  “Something like that. He died a few years ago and had no heirs. I bought it from the estate. Sweet deal.”

  “Nice place as I recall,” I said.

  “Wait till you see how Cathy’s fixed it up,” he said.

  Reddy and Cathy had removed the cattle gate across the drive, so we were able to park in a graveled space some fifty yards in front of the cabin where Dr. Samuel Bernstein had once lived. The archway and picket fence were still there. This time there were some clusters of hearty pansies blooming and a generous crop of multi-colored mums mixed in with the pansies. The archway had a few late blooming roses weaving themselves in and out of the lattice work on the arch.

  “Cathy’s got the green thumb for flowers and such,” Reddy said to me as he noticed my focus. “She’s a jewel.”

  I started to say like her old man, but then I thought better of that. I didn’t want to play my hand before the game began.

  “Butch and Bernstein ever reconnect?” I asked.

  “Yeah, they did. I kept old Butch for a few days and then brought him home.”

  “Glad to hear that. Butch still around?”

  “He died a few weeks after old doc passed. They were closer than most of us thought, but old Butch had some years on him. No one knew exactly. Doc probably had some idea. Come on in,” he said as he opened the door for us and gestured for us to pass in front of him.

  We were greeted by an attractive fortyish blonde wearing an apron and a broad smile that suggested friendliness. She was attractive and seemed at ease with strangers like us in her home.

  “This is Cathy,” he said. “Cathy, this is Clancy Evans, Mister Washington, and Starnes Carver. Did I get all of that right?”

  “Rosey Washington,” Rosey said as he stepped forward and extended his hand to her.

  “Please to meet you all. Welcome. Come on in and sit. I have coffee or tea or whatever you might like otherwise,” she said after shaking hands with Rosey.

  We all sat and exchanged pleasantries while Cathy poured tea and coffee for those who requested it. Rosey drank water. Everyone else had coffee except for me. I chose to be the odd one. I asked for tea. Rosey nodded at me. My care giver was pleased with my choice.

  I complimented Cathy and Reddy on their beautiful home, inside and out. I also congratulated them on their marriage. I thought our conversations were going well.

  “You didn’t come here to gush over our place or our marriage, Miss Evans. How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for your cousin Jasper. I think he has returned to your county and is hiding out here,” I began.

  “And why do you think that?” she said with the absence of her prior charm.

  “Jasper and I had a disagreement. He shot me three times and put me in the hospital. I think I wounded him. Not sure about that, but I have every reason to believe that’s the case. It’s also my belief that since he is probably injured, he came back home.”

  “Why would he shoot you?” she said, seemingly surprised.

  “He confessed recently to killing three people years ago and he doesn’t care much for me. I’m been
investigating that original crime for a long time. He found me, confessed, and, well, we had our little confrontation.”

  “But you’re a private investigator and not the police. Why aren’t the police looking for him?”

  “It’s a cold case for the Norfolk police. I was working with them when all this began.”

  “Sounds like you’re still working for them,” she said.

  “Sorta working for them. I have a vested interest in finding him and taking him back to Norfolk for trial.”

  “What’s your vested interest?”

  “I think he took my dog,” I said.

  “You came all this way to Yancey County from Norfolk, Virginia because of a dog?”

  “The dog is important. And your cousin needs to answer for what he did. And, to your pointed question about the Norfolk police, they are looking for him.”

  “But you’re here alone,” she said.

  “This was my lead, my idea. They told me to pursue it.”

  “So, they don’t agree with your idea that Jasper is in this county?”

  “It was a hard sell. At least they allowed me to run it down.”

  “Sounds to me like Jasper talks too much,” she said. “You have any solid evidence that it was indeed Jasper…more than his confession?”

  “Some evidence that certainly points in his direction. The confession was solid, though.”

  “I don’t understand why he would confess to you and then run away,” she said.

  “He told me that he had killed the three people, that he had captured my dog, and he intended to kill me.”

  “Well, he didn’t do a very good job of that latter point,” she said.

  “Thankfully, no. But that was only because he was a lousy shot. However, he left me wounded on the street in Norfolk. Perhaps he thought he had killed me.”

  “And you say he killed three people? How could that be if he’s such a bad shot?”

  She certainly was feisty. I gave her that. She wasn’t about to give up any information easily.

  “He didn’t shoot them.”

  “How’d he kill them?”

  “Stabbed them to death. Multiple times.”

  “Makes sense. Jasper never could shoot a gun,” she said, confirming my assessment of his marksmanship. “What do you want from me?”