The Dish Ran Away With The Spoon

by M. Glenn Graves

  Starnes shrugged her shoulders at me and walked on ahead.

  “So, you gonna tell me where you’re going?”

  “To find Laurel.”

  Chapter 11

  Earlier that morning Laurel Shelton crawled out of her bedding of dry leaves that she had neatly piled under the outcropping on the side of the mountain where she had slept comfortably throughout the night. The birds woke her. She sat on one of the smaller boulders to listen to the many sounds of the woods. She was listening for both natural and unnatural ones.

  The natural sounds were like good music to the ears of those familiar with forest life. The unnatural ones were the warnings of danger. She had some points of identification with the wild animals around her. Even though she was part of the group which made the unnatural sounds in the woods, she felt a close affinity to her present environment.

  She retrieved her backpack and drank some water. She took out a granola bar and then counted the remaining bars. One was missing. She tried to remember if she had forgotten that she had eaten one somewhere along the way. Her mind backtracked from the beginning of her hike. She could picture each time she paused and either drank water or ate a bar. There was one bar for which she could not account.

  She finally concluded that one must have fallen out somewhere. She thought of her leap from the truck bed to the mud hole. That had to be the spot. Her mind was now racing … if they find it … I need to move out now.

  Laurel quickly grabbed up her pack and shouldered it as she moved upward along the steep slope. She had no idea how much of a lead she had, but she couldn’t count on the two men not finding that lost bar, despite their inept efforts in retaining her. She was grateful for their incompetence.

  For the next two hours, she climbed the mountain as quickly as her leg muscles would allow. Breathing was not an issue. Her young teenage body was in excellent condition from all the hiking. However, the warmth of early June did create some slight hindrance to a rapid pace up the side of the mountain.

  There was no discernible trail. She hoped that she might come across one sooner rather than later. It would make climbing a little easier, and some faster.

  Suddenly, Laurel encountered a trail that crossed her unmarked path as if on cue. Using her young instinct that seldom failed her, she turned to the right in the hopes that the trail was an upward one. The left turn was headed downhill. She could not risk the possibility that the two men had discovered her escape route at the road and just might be lucky enough to be coming up that particular trail. She had not taken the precious time to search for an actual trail through the woods. Distance. She wanted distance between her and the men following her. Despite their ineffectiveness so far in this fearful adventure, they were still stronger. She would have to use her wits to defeat them, as well as her knowledge of the mountains.

  The trail switched back and forth as it climbed the hillside. It was an unfamiliar trail to her, of course, even though she thought she knew most of the trails in the county. There were simply too many trails for her to know them all.

  After an hour of walking, she reached a ridge of the mountain. Using the position of the sun, she judged that the trail was heading eastward. She followed the ridge until she came to a clearing. It was a narrow part of the ridge and she could see down both sides. She scanned the peaks around her to see if any of them looked familiar. She was trying to get her bearings.

  Nothing seemed familiar. She wondered if she was still in McAdams County. Her bound ride in the bed of the truck the day before had not seemed to be long enough to leave her county. Still, Buncombe, the closest county to her position, could be an option. She could be in the northern part of that county. Nothing about the landscape provided any indication concerning her location. Her only solid thought was that it was quite lovely despite the circumstances.

  Laurel continued along the narrow ridge without benefit of knowing precisely where she was. She had the feeling that she was still in McAdams County. Intuition, nothing more.

  The narrow ridge opened into a broad field. A small house was at the far edge of the field. She wondered who might live in such a remote location on top of a mountain. It was not unusual. It was simply a question for her to answer.

  There was a road on the far side of the broad field. That might lead her to freedom. Or, it might lead her to more danger.

  Still using great caution, she moved around through the woods toward the road instead of walking straight across the field in plain view of anyone who might be inside the cabin. It crossed her mind that this cabin might be one used by hunters who periodically came to hunt deer or bear. She had seen some bear tracks earlier in her hike, but she was grateful that no bear had revealed itself to her.

  With her eyes glued to the small cabin in the clearing, she moved as quietly as she could through the woods, concealing herself in the shadows.

  “Who are you?” a voice said from deeper in the shadows to her right.

  The sound of a human voice startled her. She turned to see who it was that had spoken, but the wooded shadows restricted her ability to locate a human form.

  “I can’t see you,” Laurel said.

  “Tell me who you be first,” the male voice said.

  It sounded kind, so whatever fear she might have felt at the first sound of the voice was now absent. She doubted that her pursuers would ask questions.

  “My name is Laurel Shelton. I live in McAdams County near Hickory Fork Creek.”

  “Hello, Laurel Shelton. My name is Homer Gosnell. I live here, in that there cabin over yonder. This is McAdams County, but I don’t much care about that. Why are you here?”

  “I’m trying to get away from some men who are after me.”

  “Why there be men after you?”

  “I don’t know, at least I’m not sure. They tied me up and put me in a truck. They were taking me somewhere when I escaped.”

  “You must be smart.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “You got away from those men and you’re just a little girl.”

  “I am not a little girl, and I was lucky that those men were stupid.”

  “Sometimes I be lucky, Laurel Shelton. You wanna come see my cabin?”

  “I need you to step out of the shadows first, Mr. Homer Gosnell. I can’t see your face and I need to see you.”

  “I’m not as pretty to look on as you are.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Gosnell. But pretty is always in the eye of the one looking,” Laurel said. “It’s not pretty nor ugly that I need to see. I can size up a person simply by looking at their face.”

  Slowly Homer Gosnell moved from the dark shadows of the deep forest to a spot where Laurel could see his face. He was a large man, well over six feet tall. Laurel immediately figured that he was a strong man. His size alone would suggest that. She quickly deduced that he had a kind face. She knew of course that Homer Gosnell was slow; that much she could tell by his manner of speech and the way he said some things. His slowness did not bother her as much as his size. She guessed that Homer Gosnell weighed well over two hundred pounds.

  “Do you live alone?” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you have any family?”

  “All dead.”

  “I am sorry to learn that, Mr. Gosnell.”

  “All dead to me,” he continued. “No need for sorry. Call me Homer.”

  “Do you mean that everyone in your family has died, or do you mean something else?”

  “I don’t wanna talk no more about my family. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, I am,” she said.

  “I have some food inside the cabin if you want to come with me. I promise not to hurt you, if you be worried a might. You be small. I be big. You’re just a little girl no matter what you said, and I’m pretty-near grown.”

  Laurel smiled. “I’d say you’re a sight more than pretty-near, Mr. Homer Gosnell.”

  “You’re a funny girl, Laurel Shelton. You can come with me a
nd I’ll give ya something to eat. You be safe with me inside the cabin. I won’t let those men get you.”

  “They could be dangerous,” she said.

  “Ain’t no never mind. You come and I give you some food. You can rest a spell.”

  Something about his manner and speech led her to believe that Homer Gosnell was good at his word. There was also something about his demeanor that allowed her to believe that she was, in fact, safe with him. She knew the dangers of meeting strangers and especially men. Homer Gosnell did not worry her.

  Homer led the way and Laurel followed him at a short distance. After they entered the clearing, Laurel scanned the edges of the forest that surrounded the cabin, as well as the rest of the clearing, for any sign of the men she believed to be tracking her. Homer looked back and noticed her looking around.

  “Laurel Shelton, I told ya that nobody is gonna hurt you. I won’t let that happen. I hunt and I can stop most anything, man or bear. You can trust me if you care to. People don’t come to my place. It’s not good manners to allow something to happen to my first visitor.”

  Homer trudged along to his small cabin, oblivious now to the young girl behind him. He didn’t notice that Laurel had stopped following for a moment or two. She stared at the gentle giant walking ahead of her. She felt fortunate to have encountered such a man with a kind spirit.

  Laurel inhaled a deep breath and released it. She suddenly felt safe despite all her real and imagined fears from the last twenty-four hours of her young life.

  Chapter 12

  At early juncture during our ascent, I stopped to put my cell phone on vibrate so as not to alert the men we were following. I was ninety percent certain that we were hot on the trail of Jerome and Odell, but since I had no way to verify that, I was simply counting on my superlative conjecture and on my conviction that there are no such things as coincidences when investigating crimes. The latter was something I ran headlong into on most of my cases.

  I was a little concerned that Curly McClure had driven away and left his two associates to search for Laurel. My hunch was that he headed back to Beth Call’s place to do some damage control. What I feared the most was that he would stay only a short time with Beth, return, and head in this direction. The idea of being sandwiched between three idiots, three unpredictable less-than-clever criminals, was not a happy thought for me. Maybe that’s just me.

  There was no rain descending, and I was pleased with that. Nevertheless, the trail was slippery because of the earlier deluge. The sharp incline of the mountain did not aid our hiking. The lack of an established trail didn’t help either. Dog and Sam didn’t seem to mind the wet, the uphill trek, nor the absence of a trail. Starnes complained now and then. She was more of an expert on hiking mountain trails than me. I was of the same attitude as Dog and Sam; it’s an adventure, so go with it. Besides that, I didn’t really care for hiking trails even if the conditions were ideal.

  We stopped after what seemed to be too long a time. I looked at my phone’s clock. We had been hiking for almost an hour. Felt like four hours. My thighs were burning and my feet were sore. The 9 mm in my back was beginning to get heavy. The smaller .32 in my ankle holster was not bothering me appreciably yet. I was thinking about it and that was something I seldom did. Perhaps it was my unusual gait in climbing the mountain that called attention to the firearm on my ankle.

  I was glad for the rest stop.

  Starnes made me hold the dogs while she went behind a thicket for a restroom break. After I took my turn, we headed out again. Onward and upward. The fun never stops.

  “This is why I think I prefer the cities,” I said, gasping for breath as we marched through a thicket of nearly waist high weeds and wild flowers.

  “At least no one is shooting at us.”

  “Might get there yet.”

  “We need to stay as close to those guys as we can,” she said, “but without giving away our presence.”

  “Surprise would be good,” I said in a low voice.

  “I haven’t heard any sounds, you know, like voices. They must be making better time than us.”

  “Or they’re not talking,” I said.

  “Or both.”

  I wanted to suggest that another possibility could be that we were not on their trail. I held my notion for fear she would launch into some serious diatribe about her expertise in hiking.

  “Maybe you should stop and rest and let me run ahead to see if I catch up with them. I think I can move a lot faster than you.”

  Starnes’ idea surprised me, but also pleased me, as well.

  “There is no testosterone in my body that wants me to argue with your opinion. You go right ahead and run up this mountain. I shall gladly maintain this position.”

  “With both dogs,” she said.

  I grabbed the dogs by their collars and held them while she jogged up the slope. I was certain that no fiber of my person envied Starnes for running on ahead of our little expedition. I watched her move out. Starnes Carver might be vertically challenged, but she had strength and stamina of which I could only dream. And I was in pretty good shape for an aging young woman.

  She was out of sight in a couple of minutes. I told Sam to stay with me. I figured that if he stayed, Dog would stay with him. I released their collars and the dogs remained at my side.

  We stopped at one of the few level places along our trek. An old oak had fallen during a storm in the last ten years and the remaining stump made for a great place to lie down. It was that big. The oak must have been more than a hundred years old, if not older. I could lie down on a flat portion of the old stump if I bent my knees. The jagged middle of the stump separated it into two almost equal halves. My chosen side seemed to be more level than the other one. It was not altogether comfortable, but better than walking up a mountain. Or jogging like Starnes.

  I closed my eyes and rested for a few minutes. I was fearful of falling asleep, so I didn’t want to get too comfortable on my stump bed. Now and then I would open my eyes just to prevent sleep from seducing me. While still prone, I turned my head sideways so I could follow the movement of the dogs while they did their canvassing and sniffing routine.

  Sam was constantly on the move, smelling whatever he came across and examining fallen limbs and mounds of brush. Dog would investigate right behind whatever place Sam had just visited. He would urinate and Dog would follow suit. I used to think that females didn’t mark their turf like males. Maybe she was spending too much time with Sam and picking up his male habits. Or maybe I was wrong about female markers.

  Occasionally Sam would come by the stump and nudge my butt. Labs like to make sure that their masters are okay, or at least alive. Dog would follow close behind him without any nudging. She would sit and whine a little, softly, nothing too serious. It crossed my mind that she missed Starnes. I was hardly a dog whisperer, so I had no idea what was on her mind. A good guess would be Starnes’ absence, but that was only a guess.

  Time passed.

  I checked my phone clock and noted that Starnes had been gone from our little party for half an hour. I thought maybe I should get up from my laziness and begin hiking up the mountain once again. That was so distasteful an idea that I summarily put it out of my mind without much effort.

  More time passed.

  It was nearly an hour and I was beginning to worry about Starnes. I edged off the oak stump and called the dogs quietly to follow me. We headed off in the direction Starnes had gone.

  Forty minutes now back on the trail, and I was panting like a tired horse. My thighs were burning again, and my knees were beginning to ache. I was falling apart, but still years away from my Medicare benefits. Moments later Starnes met us coming down the mountain.

  “Took your time coming back,” I said.

  “They were far ahead. I ran back to you, but somehow those two managed to get up the mountain a whole lot faster than the two of us.”

  “The four of us. It’s the dogs’ fault,” I said.


  “Right. Come on, they’re gaining ground while we stand here and chatting.”

  “We’ve lost a lot time … because of me,” I confessed.

  “Yeah, but we have the advantage on those guys.”

  “Yeah? What’s our advantage?”

  “We’re young, female, and full of vigor.”

  “One out of three I will agree to,” I said.

  “Come on. Talkin’ won’t get it done,” Starnes said as she moved out in front of me. I nodded to myself that she was, indeed, young and full of much vigor. More so than I.

  It was mid-afternoon, but the woods were so thick that it seemed much later. A little sunshine would have helped both the darkness and my disposition. These woods seemed to be a dreary place. But that’s just me. I tend to favor sunshine and light.

  “I hope we can find her before nightfall,” I said at our next rest stop.

  “I just hope they don’t find her before we can catch up to them,” Starnes said.

  “She seems to have eluded them thus far. My money has to be on the kid.”

  “I don’t like the odds,” Starnes said. “Elements, mountain, young girl, two stupid men. The equation is not balanced.”

  “Not sure I agree with you on that – bright young girl, understands the elements, and she’s up against two of the three stooges. Odds are still on her side.”

  I heard myself say it, but my mind was thinking that Starnes’ view had strong merit. Maybe it was positive thinking on my part; or, maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  We hurried along as fast as we could. Starnes stayed about twenty yards ahead of me. Both dogs were steady in their gaits between us. I wanted to stop and rest more often than Starnes would allow. I knew that she was right, but my body was screaming at me. I wasn’t used to such rigorous activity in the mountainous wilds. Forget the wilds; I wasn’t used to such activity in downtown Norfolk.

  “I gotta stop,” I said after what seemed to be an interminable time elapse from the last stop.