The smile was completely gone, a blank stare looking back at me, a bona fide deer in headlights look on his face. Ray brought me a half sweet, half unsweetened tea. The Chief waited until Ray returned to the kitchen before speaking. “Your suspect?”
“Please don’t do this, Chief, it’s beneath my intelligence, and it should be beneath yours as well. You know that I’m looking at Eric Parker, not Harker, as a person of interest. We both know you purposefully withheld your name on our last meeting. You wanted to play your cards close to the chest, I got that, but that ship done sailed. You’re busted. Now, I want to know what you’ve done so far in looking for Paul Deland.”
“My officers have been given details of his appearance and the make and model of his car along with his plate number. They’ve been advised to keep an eye out for him.”
“In other words, no change in the status quo since Saturday night. Keep your eyes open is your whole strategy. No investigation, no conversation with your son, or Ms. Geddes, or anyone else in the bar that night.”
The deer in head lights look was replaced with a scornful look on his face. “I don’t answer to you, Dr. McCain. You said yourself there is no evidence of any foul play. Just a lost wallet, and the fact that my son Eric gave Mr. Deland a little push in the bar earlier. Well, I don’t know how they do things where you come from, but a little push in the bar for flirting with your girl is not unlawful.”
“Are your law books missing a few pages?”
“What are you talking about, Dr. McCain?”
“Officer Willis didn’t know how to handle a missing person’s report, and you don’t know the technical definition of assault or battery. Because your son is technically guilty of both.”
“Not the way you described it to Officer Willis.”
“Exactly the way I described it. Assault requires an overt or direct act that would put a reasonable person in fear for their safety, and physical contact is not necessary. Come on; you know this. Oh, and Eric slapped Paul’s hand so the requirements for battery could also be established, but I did not come here to argue legal technicalities with you, Chief.”
“Then please enlighten me as to why you did come here, Dr. McCain.”
“To inform you that I’m coming after you and your son, plain and simple.”
“What exactly do you mean by that? Is that meant as a threat?”
“I know this sounds horribly cliché, but it’s no threat; it’s a promise. Your son lied to me when I talked to him this morning. Something happened in that parking lot that night that he doesn’t want to talk about. I’m going to find out what, and if he has harmed Paul in any way, then his father and I will make sure he goes down. You’re not going to investigate, so I will.”
“You talked to him…where? When?”
“This morning outside Cornerstone. So, I know you two haven’t talked yet. And he made the same mistake you made yesterday.”
“What’s that, Dr. McCain?”
“He made me mad!”
He paused to ponder my proclamation, a puzzled expression on his face. “Pardon me, Dr. McCain. I thought our conversation yesterday was cordial.”
“The conversation was cordial, I guess. However, you weren’t truthful. Then you sent six men to run us out of town yesterday. Outside of this very restaurant. So now our relationship is no longer cordial. It is adversarial.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Chief Parker, are you trying to insult my intelligence again? Word of warning, the next time you send some guys to harass me, send the ambulance to clean up the mess.”
Chief Parker’s mouth was open in a classic look of disbelief, his head shaking side to side slowly. “Doctor, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“You are good; I will give you that. You should give your son some lessons on lying; he stinks at it. But then you are an elected official, which makes you a politician, so you’ve had more experience.”
The transformation from disbelief to shock on his face was effortless and instantaneous. He looked surprised and was at a temporary loss for words. “Doctor, not only do I not know what you are talking about, I don’t appreciate you slandering my honor.”
“You’re good, but the Chief doth protest too much, methinks. I don’t see any honor about you, just a title, and some great acting on your part. I could almost believe you if I didn’t already know you are full of crap.”
Chief Parker’s squinted eyes and furrowed brow were having no effect on me as I stood to face him with my best “I’m not impressed” look on my face. The image of the six men was still burnt in my mind, and I knew I was talking to the man who sent them. His attempt at intimidating me had no effect.
“Seriously, Chief, a stare down. Not going to work on me. I’m too mad.”
Chief Parker said, “That makes two of us.”
He abruptly stopped as Ray brought me my food and another tea. The tension in the room was thick, which seemed obvious to Ray who quickly walked away. The other officer must have sensed it as well since he had not taken his attention off us since the Chief excused him.
Chief Parker resumed, “You seem to be forgetting your place, Doctor. I’m the Chief of Police here. You are nothing, a nobody in this town. A civilian.”
“To be accurate, I’m a veteran, but that’s another argument. For now, you are the inept police chief who will not do his job, and I’m the guy who is going to see that it gets done anyway. Just think of me as Emmettsville Internal Affairs, and I have my eyes on you. My advice for you: get busy working the case, or stay out of my way.”
“I’m not going to sit through any more of this. You watch yourself. My officers will be advised to watch for you. Step out of line, and we will arrest you. Good day, Doctor.”
“If they show the same ineptness watching for me as they have looking for Paul, I shouldn’t have too much to worry about. But, thanks for the warning, and good day to you too, Chief Parker.” I placed extra emphasis on the “P.”
***
One particular style of martial arts that I studied when I was younger focused on using your opponent’s energy against him by redirecting their energy into a different direction, thus leaving them vulnerable to counter-attack. I did not actively practice the art any longer due to its heavy emphasis on defense. I preferred to focus on offensive styles and ones that duplicated real-life situations. However, the lead instructor received both a Christmas card and a birthday card from me every year because he taught me something more valuable; he was the man who taught me to redirect my anger, to channel my anger into something positive. That man, Brent Johnson, might have indirectly saved my life more than once. He surely changed my life.
Right then, while finishing my coleslaw, I realized that my anger over what had transpired yesterday had clouded my judgment, leading me to wage a private war with the chief of police and his son before I had done my research. All I knew about Chief Parker was what Ellie had told me, which was second-hand information since she did not live here anymore. I was not approaching this with the same methodical, logical manner that I had employed when I worked for NIS.
I needed to slow down and gather more information, to get my anger under control, yet the fact that Paul was still missing was driving me forward. My instincts, my inner voice, kept pushing me to move faster, telling me that time was of the essence. It was a feeling that I could not shake.
I needed more information on Chief Parker, preferably from someone who knew him well. Someone came to mind, someone who I was sure would help; however, it involved crossing a line that might cause problems with Ellie. She was already concerned, and when she found out that I had threatened Chief Parker matters were only going to get worse. Despite my apprehension, my inner voice kept reminding me of the potential time element, pushing me to move forward.
***
Lloyd Carmichael, Ellie’s father, was an interesting man. Much like my father, he had built a company from the ground up. Lloyd’s sp
ecialty was building aluminum bass boats. His was not a high volume business; he made his profits by making arguably the highest quality aluminum boats on the market. He no longer owned the company, which he sold for a tidy profit a few years ago when he realized neither of his girls was interested in taking over the family business. The company was smart enough to keep him on as a technical consultant. He once told me he did not need the money, but 53 was too early to retire completely.
Ellie’s parents still lived in her childhood home located on the edge of town, a spacious two-story brick farmhouse that was probably built at the turn of the century, yet it looked extremely well kept. If I had been even half a minute later, I would have missed Lloyd altogether. Instead, I saw his truck pulling out of the driveway towing an aluminum bass boat, probably on his way to go fishing. My attempt at waving him down failed so I pulled in behind him, hoping the lake he planned to fish was not too far away.
Twenty minutes later he turned at a sign indicating a boat ramp up ahead. I could not see the lake yet, but already I could smell the water, hidden somewhere in the thickly forested area. I followed him all the way to the boat ramp, getting out of my vehicle when he stopped to prepare his boat for the water.
He did a double-take as he realized I was the one who had been following him, a huge smile spreading across his already friendly looking face. “L.T., I had no idea that was you behind me all that time. Why didn’t you flag me down or something?”
“There weren’t any good passing zones on that winding road, Mr. Carmichael. And I figured a bunch of honking and high beam flashing would have just made me look like a madman.”
“L.T., if I don’t have to call you doctor, then you don’t have to call me mister. I told you before; you can call me Lloyd.” He was unhooking all kinds of clamp and straps that were holding the boat to the trailer. “So what brings you all the way out here?”
“I need to ask you something.”
A mischievous grin spread across his face. “You drove out here to ask me something, huh? I was hoping you might be the one doing that someday.”
A nervous lump formed in my throat as I realized what he was hinting at. “Mr. Carmichael, Lloyd. I wish I were driving out here to ask you that, but not today I’m afraid. Actually, I need to ask you some stuff about Chief Parker.”
“Oh.”
“Did Ellie tell you a friend of mine has a son that went missing in Emmettsville on Saturday night?”
“She did.”
“Did she also tell you I suspect that Eric Parker might be involved?”
“She did.”
“So can you help me?”
“You feel like going for a boat ride, L.T.?”
“Sure.”
“Tell me what you know and what you think, and I will see if I can answer your questions. I’m not making any promises, but I’ll do what I can to help.”
“Fair enough, sir.”
I helped him with the boat the best I could, which meant I pulled his truck away from the boat ramp and parked it after he backed the boat trailer up to the water. I knew very little about boats. Which also meant I was surprised how fast they could go, and how unstable they felt at full throttle and full trim, as he called it. After about five minutes, he slowed down, pulled over into a quiet, secluded cove, and got out his fishing pole. “Alright, tell me what you know.”
Which I did. Lloyd kept casting and re-casting out some fishing lure while I talked; I knew even less about fishing than I did about boats. Once I finished telling him everything that happened on Saturday and Sunday, including the six men that tried to run us out of town, he asked me to tell him what I speculated. I started at the beginning, which meant I told him about John receiving demands to pay Paul’s gambling debts and I concluded with my assumption that Chief Parker sent his goons over to scare us out of town. During that time, Lloyd stopped fishing and stared at me while sitting on his fishing chair, or stool, or whatever they call it.
He was sitting forward, leaning on his elbows shaking his head slowly left and right in disbelief. “Wow. I don’t know what to say.”
“I understand Chief Parker is a friend, but I’m telling you the truth. No one else knew Virgil’s name except the Chief.”
“Didn’t you give Officer Willis a list of names?”
“Okay, so Officer Willis knew everyone’s name as well. But he wasn’t even there on Sunday when we met the Chief, so he wouldn’t have known to tell any of those local yokels about him.”
Lloyd was scratching his chin, obviously thinking how to proceed. He did not look like he was preparing to lie; he looked as if he were trying to be cautious. “Chief Parker is what I would call a friendly acquaintance, not a close friend. Being on the City Council in the past, I have worked with him, and the relationship has always been friendly. But we’ve never been fishing together, if you know what I mean.”
“I do. It must be like golf for doctors.”
“Exactly. That being said, I still don’t like to think of him being corrupt. It just doesn’t fit, although as much as I hate to admit it, your take on the story does make the most sense. So what do you think I can do to help?”
Somehow being in that boat, asking my girlfriend’s father questions about a friend, even if just an acquaintance seemed wrong. I went for the easy solution to a problem, not thinking how Ellie might feel about me being there. I decided to temper my questions to information that anyone in the town might know.
“Just tell me what you know about him and Eric. Family history, hobbies, friends, anything suspicious, such as living beyond their means. I don’t know what I’m looking for other than information.”
Lloyd half-heartedly cast his fishing lure back into the water and started reeling it in. Suddenly, he jerked the pole back and started reeling faster while the pole bowed. I was intrigued by all the action. There was a brief, frenzied struggle followed by a net and a fish. Lloyd twisted the hooks out the fish’s mouth and promptly released it back into the water. We were in a bass boat, so I assumed it must have been a bass.
Lloyd said, “Sorry for the interruption. I had a pole in my hand; it was a force of habit.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the one intruding; besides I’ve never been fishing in my life, and that looked like fun.”
“A doctor that doesn’t play golf. A man who has never been fishing. You probably don’t hunt either. What do you do for fun? No, wait, don’t answer that; you are dating my daughter.”
I felt myself blush slightly at his inference, especially given my encounter with Ellie in the shower yesterday.
Lloyd started talking after that, telling me first what he knew about Eric. Other than providing some examples of violent behavior in the past, he did not tell me anything I had not already heard before. I did notice a pattern in the stories, though. In each of the three episodes Lloyd described, Eric never thrashed any of his victims excessively; the fights were over after a few hits, thus showing Eric demonstrated restraint.
Lloyd was able to fill in more detail on Chief Sam Parker, the chief of police for over 16 years. He was well liked in the community. He even ran unopposed in the last two elections. He married young and raised three kids, two daughters who married and moved up towards Nashville, and Eric. Money had never been an issue for the family since his wife took over her father’s small local Ford dealership. There was nothing extravagant about his lifestyle; in fact, most guessed they lived below their means. Sam’s one luxury was a nice hunting cabin a few miles out of town with a beautiful view of the lake behind him and about 100 acres of timbered hunting land.
“Sound’s expensive,” I said.
“Nothing fishy there. He inherited the land from his father, and the cabin is a log cabin that he and some friends built by hand. I’m telling you; he is a good, clean Southern Baptist man with a good work ethic and a reputation for fairness. His son is his only black eye, and most of the town is willing to overlook Eric’s indiscretions.”
“It doesn’t
make sense, Lloyd. If he is a good, honest, ethical chief, then why would he send those guys after us before he had even bothered talking to Eric unless he was hiding something personal himself? That’s the part I keep getting stuck at it.”
You are sure he hadn’t talked to Eric yet.”
“I’m sure. When I confronted Eric earlier today, he had no idea that his dad knew anything about Saturday night. Are you thinking that Eric sent them?”
“It would make more sense to me if he did. They are more his age, plus the big guy in the overalls sounds like the Carson boy, who also played high school football around here. Maybe he knows Eric.”
“Maybe. But what about the organized crime element? You guys got any of that around here?”
“I wouldn’t even know what that looks like.”
“Drugs, gambling, prostitution, illegal liquor distribution, pill mills.”
“L.T., if we have that kind of stuff around here, then I guess I’m either too old or too naive to know about it. I wouldn’t know what a prostitute looks like if one bit me on the butt, and I have no idea what a pill mill is. If there was anything like that in this town, I’m sure it would get discussed at city council meetings, but it never comes up.”
“So, small-scale infrastructure at best, nothing pervasive into the community. Good.”
He was rubbing the bridge of his nose with both hands, digesting everything I had told him. The thought of rubbing fishy hands on my face disgusted me, but then I didn’t make my living selling fishing boats, so I imagined fish just smelled like money to him. Although it was probably only a minute, it seemed longer before he spoke again. “Was anything I told you helpful at all?”
“Information is always helpful. Now I just need time to process it all, and maybe go back to town and poke around a little more. Maybe someone else will say something that when combined with what I learned here will give me that light bulb moment.”
***
Lloyd finished our afternoon by allowing me to drive his boat and showing me all the different types of gadgetry on board: depth finders, trolling motors, live fish wells. I could hear the pride in his voice as he explained what everything did and how he helped design what he felt was the best overall bass boat on the market. After the boating experience, I had dinner with Lloyd and his wonderful wife, Virginia, which was nice even though I spent much of my time answering questions about my past. I think they were unintentionally vetting me. Lloyd was impressed to discover my father was Marcus McCain, partially because of his time in the NFL, but mostly because of Borders Trucking. They were sad for my loss, and both gave me a scrutinizing look when I revealed that my relationship with my mother was so dysfunctional. Lloyd avoided any mention of problems with Eric and Sam Parker in front of Virginia, so I just followed his lead.
Memphis Legend Page 17