Secrets Never Told

by Raegan Teller

  Josh pulled up to an abandoned gas station on one of the desert roads outside of town. He glanced around and pulled his gun from the glove compartment. A few minutes later, a whirl of dust announced a visitor. A black Ramcharger pulled up beside Josh, and a man a little younger than Josh, but with his same features, got out.

  The two men embraced. “Hey, bro, you always were better looking than me,” the man said.

  “Hello, Troy. Good to see you.” Josh kicked at a rock with the toe of his dusty boot. “Wasn’t sure you’d even come.”

  Troy took off his wide-brimmed hat and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “I know, man. I’m sorry about not returning your calls. It’s just that . . .”

  “I understand. How’s your family?”

  “Aw, you know I’m not the responsible kind. Eve left me and took off with the kids about a year ago.” Troy grinned. “I miss the kids.” He wiped his forehead again. “You still sheriff in that little Carolina town?”

  “I’m the police chief, in Madden, South Carolina. It’s a nice place. Quiet. Good people.”

  “Funny, I never could see you doing that kinda thing. But if it works, that’s good.”

  Josh kicked the rock again. A small cloud of dust floated around it. “There’s a newspaper guy investigating me. Said he got a tip about me. You know anything about that?”

  “No, man. You know I wouldn’t, I couldn’t . . . No, man.”

  Josh put his hand on Troy’s arm. “Calm down. I’m just asking. Guess you know what he’s looking into.”

  “I suppose it’s about the guy that killed Serena.”

  Josh backed up a step and leaned on his rental car. “You never really asked me what happened or if I killed him.” He paused. “Why is that?”

  Troy’s arms were crossed against his chest, and he stared at the ground. “Dunno. Just didn’t figure you wanted to talk about it.”

  Josh grabbed Troy by his arm. “I didn’t do it. And you know that. But I’d be willing to bet you know who did.”

  Instead of pulling away from Josh, Troy slumped his shoulders. “I never thought you did it.”

  Josh released Troy. “If you know anything, you’d tell me. Right?”

  Troy nodded, staring at the ground.

  “I’ve got a good life now, but I’ve got to straighten out this mess before I can return to it.” Josh poked his finger at Troy’s chest. “Got that?”

  CHAPTER 29

  Enid held her finger over Madelyn’s private phone number, hesitating as to whether to tap it. Finally, she called. Madelyn was in the flurry of campaign activity, so the odds of reaching her were slim.

  “Hey, you. What’s up?” Madelyn sounded happy.

  “I’m sorry to bother you. You must be really busy these days.”

  “Don’t be silly. What do you need?” Since Madelyn had gotten into state politics, she assumed everyone who called wanted something from her. Sadly, she was usually right, including now.

  “You know Josh is still out of town.”

  “Yes, and how’s he doing?”

  “Okay, I guess. We really haven’t talked much. Anyway, with him gone, Pete is acting police chief, but since the county is in charge of investigating the bones found at the inn, Pete’s not in the loop.”

  “Ah, so that’s what this call is about. What do you need?”

  “Do you have a contact that can find out if they’ve made the identification yet?”

  “Hold on a sec.” Madelyn appeared to have covered the phone with her hand and was talking to someone else. “Okay, sorry about that. Now, what were you saying? Oh, wait, the bones. Let me see what I can find out. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks, I owe you a dinner.”

  Madelyn laughed. “You’re not cooking, are you?”

  “No, I wouldn’t do that to a dear friend, but we’ll get together soon. Good luck with everything. You’re going to win, you know that, don’t you?”

  “Later, hon. I’ve got to run.” The phone line went dead.

  CHAPTER 30

  Josh looked across the desert as he drove down New Mexico’s Highway 14, otherwise known as the Turquoise Trail. This was home for him, in the traditional sense that he was born not too far from here. But was it really home now? When he moved to Madden to escape the memories of Serena’s murder and all the issues surrounding it, he vowed never to return. But here he was again. The meeting with his brother Troy reminded him of what he had left behind and why. Family was important to Josh, but he viewed family in the broader sense now, just as he defined home as something more than a physical location.

  Since he had arrived in New Mexico, he had only spoken to Enid twice. One of the things he loved about her was that she seemed to understand his need to be alone. Not once had she pressured him about what was going on, although he could tell it bothered her. For a reporter used to asking questions, she showed uncharacteristic restraint. Maybe she was afraid of what she might find.

  He pulled into a gas station on the highway. Two eighteen wheelers were parked off to the side. He knew from past experience that cell phone reception was good here and the coffee was decent, so he parked and went inside.

  The waitress brought him a cup without even asking what he wanted. He smiled to himself as he thought of Enid, if she were here, saying to the waitress, “I don’t drink coffee.” Everyone drank coffee in these parts. As the hot, acrid liquid warmed his throat, he pulled out his cell phone and found Enid’s number. What would he say? Should he even call her?

  Almost involuntarily, his finger tapped the number. “I’m going to take this outside,” he said to the waitress. “Be back in a few minutes.” Since there were only three people inside the restaurant and no noise for cover, having a private conversation would be impossible.

  As he stepped into the bright sunshine, Enid answered. “Hey, babe, I miss you” he said, his voice sounding hollow and artificial. But he did miss her. “I’m sorry I haven’t called you more often. You got a few minutes?”

  “I miss you, too. Is everything okay?”

  How much to tell her? And should he tell her by phone or in person? “Sure, everything’s fine.”

  “When are you coming home?” she asked.

  “Soon, I hope. How’s the bones investigation going?”

  “Getting information is tough. Boogie’s department won’t give me anything but a few tidbits here and there, and with you not here . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “I can call Boogie for you. You know how he is. Don’t take it personally.”

  “No, don’t do that.” She paused. “How well do you really know him?”

  “Well enough. I mean, it’s not like we’re close drinking buddies or anything. He was there for me when I needed to learn about small-town policing, and he’s never given me any reason to doubt his integrity.” He paused. “What’s on your mind?”

  Josh listened while Enid shared with him her concerns about Boogie and Reggie’s trial. He looked at the coffee grounds in the bottom of his cup and wished for a refill. One of the truckers came out the door and tipped his cowboy hat in greeting as he walked toward his rig. “I’m not sure how to respond to all that. But it sounds like you’ve been busy.”

  The waitress walked out with a coffee pot in her hand. “Want a refill, hon?” Josh nodded and held out his cup. God bless attentive wait staff.

  “Sorry, I’m back,” he said to Enid as the waitress walked back inside. “Just remember, when you investigate a sitting sheriff, you’re venturing into dangerous waters,” Josh said. “Be careful.”

  “There’s something else,” Enid told him about going to the 7 Crows Farm with Karla. “Phyllis mentioned seven crows when she first came to see me, so I need to talk to her again.”

  As much as he respected Enid’s instincts, he had some himself, a lawman’s instincts—that little warning voice. He wished he was in Madden. She didn’t like to be protected, but he worried about her.

  “I’ve got to go,”
she said. “Come home soon.”

  After Josh ended the call with Enid, he went back inside and put his empty coffee cup on the counter, leaving a sizable tip.

  “Want a to-go cup?” she asked.

  “No, but thanks.”

  “Come on back here when you’re not on the phone. Maybe we can talk.”

  Josh smiled. “Yeah, maybe so.”

  CHAPTER 31

  “I need a feel-good piece for this week’s edition,” Jack said. “Mrs. Robertson came in to complain that all we write about is crime.” He shuffled papers around on his desk at the newspaper office. “Where the heck did I put my glasses?”

  “You left them in my office earlier.” Enid handed them to him. “Do we have that much crime in the tri-county area? Maybe we need to report on the statistics. I’m doing this article on the impact of the super-store distribution center on the town’s economy. I could expand it to discuss how crime is growing with the population. I’ll include some stats.”

  “Good idea,” Jack said.

  “On the other hand, last time I checked, crime really hasn’t increased much. The Madden folks were used to reading only news about their town. Now that we cover three counties, there’s thrice the incidents, which probably makes them feel like there’s more crime.”

  “Thrice. I like that word,” he said.

  Enid laughed. “My humble attempt at being literary. And, speaking of such things, remember that nursery rhyme, you know, the one about seven crows?”

  “Something about a secret, never to be told.” Jack shrugged.

  “Karla and I went to the farm where Angel lived with her family. As we were leaving, I found an old metal sign, you know, like the ones you see around here hanging over the driveways to farms.”

  “And?”

  “The name of the farm is 7 Crows.”

  Jack slapped his hands on the desk. “You’re kidding me. Seriously?” He paused. “But did Phyllis know that?”

  “Neither you nor I believe in coincidences. The odds are too staggering that she didn’t know the connection to the farm when she came into my office spouting rhymes.”

  “Let me see if I’ve got all the pieces. Awhile back, Angel goes missing while she’s involved with Phyllis’ brother, Reggie, along with most of the Bowman County deputies. They find Angel’s bloody underwear in Reggie’s car. He’s arrested, tried for murder, and later convicted on what you called ‘dubious testimony and evidence’ by the same sheriff’s department. Then fast forward, and bones are found at the inn. A woman dressed in disguise comes to see you and quotes an ancient nursery rhyme about seven crows and a secret. The woman turns out to be Reggie’s sister, and you discover that Angel lived on a farm named 7 Crows. Is that about it?”

  Enid nodded. “Pretty much. It sounds bizarre when you describe it like that.”

  “They always say truth is stranger than fiction. If we tried to print that story, I can just see Mrs. Robertson walking in here accusing me of publishing fake news.”

  “Are you asking me to drop this story then?”

  Jack laughed. “Hell, no. I can’t wait to hear the ending.”

  “Good. I need to find out what else Phyllis knows that she’s not telling me.” Enid stood to leave.

  “Can I get my feel-good article before you go off chasing nursery rhymes? We go to print this evening.”

  “How about if I interview Mrs. Robertson about her prized zucchini plants? Maybe she’ll throw in a recipe or two.”

  “Brilliant, that ought to hold her for a while. Want me to go with you to check out this 7 Crows Farm? I’m starting to worry about where all this might lead you.”

  “I’ll be careful.” Despite her assurances, Enid made a mental note to keep her small handgun in her tote from now on. Just as a precaution.

  ◆◆◆

  Phyllis had agreed to meet Enid at a small restaurant near the school where Phyllis taught. The drive was about thirty minutes for Enid, but since moving to Madden, she had gotten used to everything being at least a half hour away. When she and Cade had lived in Charlotte, they spent just as much or more time in the car, but much of that time was sitting in traffic or inching along congested roads. Here in South Carolina, things were more spread out and there was far less traffic.

  Enid had come to love the surrounding farms and fields on these commutes. But there were signs everywhere that this tranquility would end one day. Housing developments were popping up where wooded areas had once been. Piles of downed trees were distressing evidence of encroaching progress.

  When Enid arrived at the restaurant, Phyllis was sitting at a table near the swinging door to the kitchen. “Thank you for seeing me,” Enid said.

  “You didn’t say what this is about, but I wanted to see you anyway. I owe you an apology.”

  Enid refrained from lashing out at Phyllis by reminding herself that Phyllis’ brother may have been convicted of a murder he didn’t commit. “What do you want to apologize for?”

  “Karla Burke came to see me after she had met with you.”

  “I wasn’t aware you and Karla knew each other that well.”

  “We don’t. But, Karla has a way of knowing everybody, if you know what I mean.”

  Enid nodded and waited for Phyllis to continue.

  “Karla told me you were trying to help me clear Reggie’s name, and that I needed to be more honest with you.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the 7 Crows Farm? Maybe I can understand why you talked in riddles at first, just to get my attention. It worked. But when we met again, after I found out who you really are, you should have told me then.”

  Phyllis’ eyes filled with tears.

  “I’m sorry for your brother’s situation,” Enid said. “He may or may not have been wrongly convicted.” Enid put her hand on Phyllis’. “And I’m very sorry Reggie didn’t live to know that his sister believed in him and was trying to clear his name.”

  Phyllis started to speak, but Enid held up her hand to stop her. “Wait, I’m not finished. While I understand and sympathize with your plight, you have wasted a lot of my time and may have put me and Karla in danger by withholding information. So, here’s the deal. If you want me to help you, you will be totally honest with me. Do not withhold information or play any more games. I’m on your side. Do you understand that?”

  Phyllis tried to pull a napkin from the stainless dispenser on the table, but it was packed so tightly that she could only pull bits of napkin from it. Enid got a tissue from her tote and handed it to her.

  Phyllis wiped her eyes then dabbed at her nose. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be upset with me. I’m not trying to make excuses, but I’d like to tell you my side.”

  Enid nodded for her go on.

  “I appreciate everything you’re doing, and I would never intentionally put you or anyone in danger.” Phyllis wiped her eyes again.

  “I’d like to understand this whole situation, and you, a little better.”

  Phyllis sat up straight. “I’m proud to be black. That might sound trite, confrontational, or even racist to you, but it’s taken me years to be able to stand up for who I am unapologetically. And I still struggle with it at times. Being black can be scary as hell under certain circumstances. My family has been harassed for no reason. My brother used to get stopped by the county deputies all the time, even before he was involved with Angel. I know you’re trying to find the truth, and I want you to.” She reached across the table and put both hands on Enid’s. “But I was afraid of the truth that might come of all this, even though I wanted to reveal it. I thought maybe if I gave you tidbits of information, you’d get intrigued, figure it out, and then I’d be off the hook. That sounds selfish and cowardly, and I apologize for my behavior.”

  Enid leaned back in her chair. “I’m not sure what to say about all that. But I appreciate your candor. Who exactly are you afraid of? The sheriff’s department in general or is there someone specific?”

  Phyllis sat back
and appeared to be thinking. “I’ve been afraid so long that I’m not sure. I know that must sound silly. All I know is Reggie didn’t kill Angel, if she’s even dead. He was infatuated with her, with saving her from her situation. He was a dreamer, not a killer.”

  “I’m afraid we’ll need more than your sisterly assurances if we try to clear his name.”

  Reaching down in her purse, Phyllis produced a folded piece of paper. “May I show this to you?” She handed the paper to Enid.

  Enid smoothed the folds and read out loud.

  My heart aches for you, my Angel.

  Surely you were misplaced at birth,

  as God would not send you

  to these men without souls.

  Escape with me. Run from evil.

  I will care for you. Somehow.

  And never again will you suffer

  at the place of 7 Crows.

  “Was this one of Reggie’s poems?” Enid asked.

  Phyllis wiped the tears from her cheeks and nodded. “I found it after you asked me if I had anything of his.”

  “It’s lovely. But it’s also sad. Make I take a photo of this to keep?”

  “That’s a copy. You can have it.”

  “May I show it to Sheriff Waters?”

  Phyllis’ eyes widened. “Oh, no. Please don’t.”

  “If you want me to help you, then you’ve got to let me use this. Keep the original in one of those large plastic freezer bags, someplace safe, and make a note of when and where you found it.”

  Enid looked at the poem again, and her eyes kept going back to the last line: at the place of 7 Crows.

  CHAPTER 32

  Madelyn had insisted on meeting Enid at her house in Columbia instead of talking on the phone. The closer Madelyn got to the election date, the more paranoid she had become about phone records, texts, and emails—anything that might leave a trace. She admitted it was foolish, as she had nothing to hide.