by Ed Robinson
“What were you before you moved here?” she asked.
“A boat bum,” I told her. “Beachcomber and fisherman.”
“Forgive me for having a hard time believing that,” she said. “But the tech is on his way from Boone. Let’s go back to the resort and see what you’ve found.”
“Thanks for being a good sport about all of this,” I said. “It could have gone much differently.”
“You’re not completely innocent,” she said. “But I won’t pit myself against Brody. Someday I hope to be the woman that she is.”
“I hope to be the man that she deserves,” I said. “It’s a work in progress.”
“Come on, boat bum,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.”
We beat the tech to the resort by ten minutes. The first few minutes were spent pointing out the possible blood stains. The rest of the time was spent in awkward silence. All three of us had already spoken our piece about recent events. All three of us had decided to leave well enough alone. The arrival of the evidence tech was a welcome sight.
Brody and I left Angelina and the tech to their work. We’d contributed enough for one day. These people were getting paid to do their jobs. Brody and I had volunteered to help solve a murder. So far we’d been the only ones to advance the case. We’d found the house that the Chief’s son had entered without permission. We’d tracked down the hermit, who was a witness. We’d found blood at the ski resort, or at least we thought it was blood. I was beginning to warm to the idea of setting up our own private detective business. We didn’t have the tools that law enforcement had, but we had a knack for deep investigation. We also had plenty of time on our hands.
The hard part was constantly waiting on official law enforcement to carrying through with their duties. The white Subaru still hadn’t been found. No one was doing much else as far as evidence collection. The Chief had been handled with kid gloves. He knew what went down, but no one was putting the screws to the man to make him talk. They needed evidence, but they weren’t looking hard enough for it.
I’d run out of ways to contribute, other than being a liaison for the hermit. I was supposed to deliver him a message from his daughter. I was supposed to show him pictures of the Chief. I needed to step back from looking for evidence and visit Tyler Scott, but I was tired. I needed a day of rest. I needed to pay attention to my dog. I needed to pay attention to Brody. This mission had pulled me in too many different directions. I’d kept up with the pace, but I couldn’t keep it up indefinitely. I needed a break.
“I’m thinking we need a lay day, if that’s okay with you,” I said to Brody.
“Things are about to break,” she said. “I was thinking about concentrating on that car.”
“I was thinking we lay in bed till noon,” I said. “Go to Hickerman’s for a late breakfast. Then spend the afternoon in bed too.”
“I like your idea better,” she said. “But only one day. We’ve got to see this through.”
“I’ve got to go back to the hermit,” I said. “We’ve got to pick up pictures from the lawyer first. Lots to do, but it can wait a day. Give me a good night’s sleep, and I can start to repay you for the other night.”
“I like the sound of that,” she said.
We ate a decent meal and turned in early. I was asleep before I hit the bed. Red was curled up on the rug at the door. He wanted to be with us, but he knew he wasn’t allowed in the bedroom. I was content in our little cabin. I had a wonderful woman and a faithful dog. I was hidden away from the world. I could hide from everything here, except for my dreams.
They came at me in rapid-fire succession. In the first dream, I saw the hermit down by the lake. I watched as he picked up a rock and smashed the girl in the back of the head. Then he disappeared into the darkness. Everything faded to black.
Then I saw the Chief at the house we’d investigated. This time it was him who killed the girl. In the third dream, it was the Chief’s son, but he wasn’t in the parking lot at the ski resort. He was outside that same house. I saw him and the girl climbing the steps. She slipped and went down, landing at the foot of the steps on her head. It had all been an accident, but Zack panicked. I waited for the Chief to arrive, but the dream faded.
I was awake. What message was my subconscious trying to send me? I did my best to slip out of bed without waking Brody, but I failed. She was a light sleeper like me. Always somehow alert, even when asleep. It was a habit I feared we would never break.
“What is it?” she asked. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I answered. “Not nightmares this time.”
“What’s going on?”
“I just dreamt every possible scenario except the one we’ve chosen,” I said. “The hermit did it. The Chief did it, or it was an accident.”
“It could have been an accident,” she said. “But why the cover-up? Why would the kid run? Why would the Chief clam up?”
“They were just dreams,” I said. “But they make me question what we think we know.”
“Shit, I’m wide awake now,” she said. “You want coffee.”
“Sure, babe,” I said. “Sorry to wake you.”
It took Red a minute to realize that we were up and about. He yawned and stretched before joining us in the kitchen. He sat by my side and asked for an ear rub. I scratched his head absent-mindedly while Brody poured the coffee.
“Is this a crisis of confidence?” she asked. “Or is there something eating at you about this case?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “How much faith do you place in dreams? Do they mean anything at all?”
“In your case,” she said. “They’ve always been about the past. Old shit coming back to haunt you.”
“True enough,” I said. “But I’ve pretty much gotten over all that. I’m nightmare free these days. I’ve dreamt about poor old Pop Sutton more than once. I’ve seen the hermit in my dreams. Now I’ve got the Chief and his son joining the party.”
“Getting a little crowded in that head of yours,” she said. “Save some room for me and Red.”
“They’re dreams,” I said. “Nothing to do with you. Believe me, I’d much rather see you in my dreams.”
“Well, it’s three in the morning,” she said. “We’ve got no TV and no computer. Let’s sit here and work this thing through again. Tell me what we’ve missed. Give me alternative choices. How else could the girl’s death have happened?”
I warmed my hands on the mug and thought about it. I kept asking myself “what if?” What if the hermit is full of shit and making the whole damn thing up?” If he killed the girl, claiming to witness someone else commit the crime would be a natural self-defense mechanism. But why would he kill her in the first place? Nope, didn’t make sense. If the Chief killed the girl, why would he take obvious steps to protect his son? Why would the son take off? Nope, that didn’t make sense either.
“We need to find that car,” Brody said. “Get a trace of the girl’s blood or other DNA evidence that would confirm the body was in there. If that happens, then we know it was the kid or the father. No doubt about it. The lawyers will flush it out after that.”
“I can’t imagine any reason that a small town Chief of Police would kill a teenage tourist,” I said. “It’s not plausible.”
“That leaves the son,” she said. “Just like we’ve been thinking all along.”
“Stupid dreams,” I said. “Seems like tonight was all for nothing.”
“Not necessarily,” she said. “You seem rested enough.”
“Are you thinking what I think you are?”
“No pressure,” she said. “But this seems like a nice time for you to pay up.”
“Gladly.”
Just before I fell asleep, I remembered thinking that I probably still owed her, at least a little bit. I’d done a worthy job of showing my gratitude, but it had been my weakness that started this sexual chain of events. I vowed to be more of an unselfish lover until the Angelina episode was erased f
rom our memories. It was a small price to pay.
In spite of the split sleep session, I felt better the next morning. We were ready to drive to Boone and get pictures for the hermit to look at and see what else was new. Joshua Dorman had a small portfolio prepared for us that showed the Chief from multiple angles and distances. He’d even found a photo of the car on Facebook, something I hadn’t thought of.
“What’s the latest scuttlebutt?” I asked him.
“The kid has already been convicted in the court of public opinion,” he said. “It’s just a matter of time until they find him.”
“What if he refuses to confess?”
“The father will face pressure like he’s never known,” he said. “Once your man identifies him as the body dumper, he’ll be screwed. He can take the fall himself, or rat out his child.”
“What if he won’t give up the kid?”
“He’ll go away for a very long time,” Dorman said. “Cops don’t fare well in prison.”
“I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes,” I said. “What if the son claims it was an accident?”
“If the evidence is overwhelming, he should do just that,” he said. “But fleeing hurts his defense. He could have come forward from the start if it was an accident, especially with the counsel of his father, a law enforcement officer.”
“Where is the mother in all of this?” Brody asked.
“The story is that she’s had a complete breakdown,” Dorman said. “The court would think twice about trusting any testimony she may provide. Law enforcement would likewise be hesitant to question her.”
“So she’s off-limits?” Brody asked. “She’s in the thick of it. She has to know what happened.”
“I talked to a prosecutor about this,” he said. “Involving her would be a last resort tactic. It’s risky and could benefit the defense. They’d play on the jury’s sympathy for the poor woman. Any decent lawyer would advise her of her right not to testify against her family members.”
“That’s a shame,” Brody said. “She could be the key to unraveling the whole thing. Find out what she knows, and the case is solved.”
“Doesn’t look like that’s going to happen,” he said. “At least not for now.”
“Where is the car,” I asked. “Where is the son hiding?”
“As far as I can tell no one has any idea,” he said. “If they do they’re keeping it quiet.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said. “I’ll put these pictures in front of Tyler Scott. I’ll let everyone know what he says as soon as I can.”
I wasn’t looking forward to another trek out into the wilderness to talk to the hermit, but I was committed. I was growing impatient with law enforcement too. How hard could the kid be to find? On the other hand, if they hadn’t found him, there wasn’t much point in Brody and me looking for him. We had nothing to go on. I had to trust that they were working some angle that I didn’t know about.
We went back to the cabin so I could regroup. Brody loaded my backpack with necessities, including the now ever-present bear spray. I tucked the photos and my weapon inside with the bottles of water and snacks. I had the GPS, a flashlight, and just about anything I could need, just in case. I got a farewell kiss and drove back up the drive towards Tennessee.
I knew the way well enough by then, but when I arrived the hermit wasn’t home. His camp was still intact, so I assumed he hadn’t disappeared. I made myself at home and waited. He didn’t return until almost dark. He had some goodies he’d looted from Beech Mountain.
“I would have thought you would lay low with all the heat on you,” I said.
“A man’s got to eat,” he said. “This is what I do.”
“I’ve got pictures for you to look at,” I said, handing him the photos.
He sat down on a stump and thumbed through them, pausing on the picture of the car.
“That’s the man, and that’s the car,” he said. “I’m fairly certain on the man. Still ninety-percent on the car. I think that’s the one, but they all look alike these days.”
“Do you know who this man is?”
“I do not,” he said. “Told you before. I don’t know anyone. Is he a bad guy?”
“He’s the Chief of Police on Beech Mountain,” I said.
“Well that changes things,” he said. “What the hell is going on?”
I spent the time explaining to him what we thought had happened. I let him mull it over for several minutes. I hoped that he’d still be willing to testify. The average citizen may have second thoughts about testifying against law enforcement. I wasn’t dealing with the average citizen.
“I know what I saw,” he said. “I have no doubt that this is the man who carried that girl into the lake. The car is a dime a dozen around here, but I’d say it’s just like the one I saw.”
“When the time comes, will you testify to that effect?”
“I’d rather not involve myself,” he said. “But I don’t see where I have any choice.”
“Let’s get this straight,” I said. “I want you to show up in court and help us, but you do have a choice. You have free will. You have freedom. I’ve done my best to help you maintain that freedom after you help us, but you can back out at any time.”
“I think you know better than that,” he said. “But I appreciate your efforts. Are you saying you have arranged a deal on my behalf?”
“The case has to come before the court first,” I said. “Identifying the Chief is a big step in that direction.”
“What is it that you’re not telling me?”
“We don’t think the Chief killed the girl,” I said. “We think his son did. He was just hiding the evidence.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he said. “She was dead when I first saw her. Didn’t know if it was a girl or a boy, but it was the man in those pictures.”
“One more thing,” I said. “It’s about your daughter.”
“Good or bad?”
“She wants you to come home,” I said. “Take it all back. Live in your house. Regain your previous life.”
“A very nice sentiment,” he said. “Never say never, but I don’t think I can do that.”
“Allow me to make a suggestion,” I said. “Go see her. Give her a big hug and tell her you love her. Stay with her until the court proceedings are over. Then decide what to do next.”
“I could clean up and get that business suit you were talking about,” he said. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s not about what I want,” I said. “But you have a life back there if you want it. Otherwise stay out here. Makes no difference to me.”
“It’s going to require more thought,” he said. “I appreciate you bringing me the message. I know you mean well. As far as this murder goes, come get me when you’ve got it all wrapped up. I’ll point the man out in court. Tell them what I saw. That’s all I can do, assuming I won’t be arrested in the process.”
“I’m paying a good lawyer to make sure that doesn’t happen,” I said. “No deal, no testimony. You’ve got my assurance on that.”
“Your money?” he said. “Why would you do that? Couldn’t you approach my daughter instead?”
“I’ve never met your daughter,” I said. “I have met you. I’m happy to pay for you to retain your freedom. I’d also be happy for reimbursement if you decide to return to normal society, but it’s not a requirement.”
“You’re an odd one, Breeze,” he said. “At first I only thought you cared because you needed my help. I played along because I knew that I’d have to help if I could. Now I think maybe it’s something more than that.”
“Freedom,” I said. “Do what you need to do. I’m doing my best to persuade you, but in the end, you’ve got to do what’s best for you.”
“I will,” he said. “Not for you and not for my daughter. We’ll see where it takes me, but I’ll be ready when you are. After that, who knows?”
Nineteen
My hermit friend had positively identified the Bee
ch Mountain Chief of Police as the person who’d put the girl’s body in the lake. We thought maybe we’d found the crime scene. Two corners of the triangle had been taken care of. As soon as the car was found, the third and final corner would be filled in. Between the efforts of law enforcement and the work of Brody and me, we’d turned an impossible case into a solvable one. What happened that night on the mountain was slowly taking shape, but there were still questions to be answered.
We now had the leverage that we needed to pressure the Chief, maybe even charge him. He wouldn’t be able to remain silent for long. He was an active participant in a murder. His trial would excite the local populace. His life in this area was over, no matter the outcome. The court would do everything within its power to determine the truth. That’s what we all wanted after all.
Brody was waiting for me at the door when I got home. She let Red out so he could run to greet me.
“It’s blood,” she said. “No longer a mystery stain.”
“How long before they can match the girl’s DNA?”
“Twenty-four to seventy-two hours,” she said.
“Any word on the car?”
“Not yet,” she said. “At least not that I’ve heard.”
“Tyler Scott saw the Chief that night,” I said. “He’s positive.”
“Will he say so in court?”
“He says he will,” I said. “But we can’t be certain until he shows up when requested.”
“We’ve got to tell the cops,” she said. “They can get the ball rolling with the Chief. This might be the wedge we needed to make him talk.”
“Fire up the SAT phone,” I said. “I know it’s important, but I don’t feel like driving to Boone again. Seems like we live down there.”
“Give me a minute,” she said. “It’s in the charger. I’ll turn it on.”
