High Country Cop

by Cynthia Thomason

  “Have you tried the churches?” Carter asked. “We might even have a support group in town for guys like Lawton.”

  “You don’t,” Miranda replied. “I’m willing to look into any solution for Law’s difficulties, but first, I hope you meant it the other night when you said you’d be willing to help.”

  Whoa. Had he said that? He recalled the words, but now he wondered at the wisdom of the promise. “What does he need?”

  “He needs a mentor, Carter. Someone from Holly River preferably. Someone who is respected in this town, whose opinion matters.”

  Carter held his breath.

  Miranda lightly touched his arm. “I’m hoping that mentor will be you.”

  * * *

  CARTER’S FACE PALED to nearly ashen. He took a deep breath. “You’re kidding, right?”

  Miranda had expected him to be surprised and probably reluctant, but a stiffening of his spine told her this was not going to be an easy sell. “I’m not kidding at all. Lawton needs a strong male figure in his life, certainly not Dale, but someone with good moral values to help him acclimate.”

  “I don’t doubt that it would be helpful, Miranda, but not me. I’m the cop who put him in jail.”

  “He doesn’t resent you for that,” Miranda said. “What else could you have done after you searched his car? He knows you were only doing your job. He got caught with an illegal substance, which he manufactured himself, and an unregistered weapon. He knows he deserved to be arrested.”

  Miranda was attributing a generous, forgiving trait to Lawton, and she figured Carter would question her opinion. How many ex-cons were willing to forgive the cop who arrested them? She just hoped he would listen and not refuse her request until he’d heard her out.

  “Don’t forget his public vandalism,” Carter added.

  Miranda frowned. “I haven’t forgotten anything, Carter, but it’s history. For Lawton’s sake, everyone needs to move forward.”

  Carter rubbed his jaw. “Moving forward is one thing, but you’ll have to admit, Miranda, this whole idea is at best impractical and at worst inconceivable.”

  “Why is it so impractical?”

  “I have a job. I’m busy.”

  “This won’t take much of your time.” Miranda was so certain that this was the proper course of action that she wasn’t going to let Carter talk himself out of helping.

  “That’s only part of the problem,” he said. “You may think Lawton doesn’t resent me, but I guarantee that on some level, and maybe not so deep a level at that, he does. I was responsible for him losing eight years of his life...”

  “He was responsible for that,” Miranda pointed out. “And he knows it.”

  “Maybe so, but he’s hardly going to want me giving him advice now.”

  “I think you’re just the person he does need,” Miranda insisted. “He can look up to you. You both come from Holly River. Your upbringings were different, and your lives are certainly different now, but you’re a figure of authority around here, someone Lawton would listen to.”

  Carter held up both hands and slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Miranda. This idea would never work. Wasn’t it just a few days ago that you pointed out to me that I went immediately to Liggett Mountain when a crime had been committed? I hadn’t gone up there to catch Lawton at something, but Dale is always a strong suspect, and that’s not going to change.”

  “This isn’t about Dale.” Carter had brought up an argument that Miranda had considered before coming to Snowy Mountain. “And that’s my point. You drove up Liggett to investigate Dale because you know he’s a troublemaker, always has been. This fact alone makes it all the more important that Law has positive influences. How healthy can it be for Lawton to have his older brother as a role model now? And I’m afraid that’s what will happen if he doesn’t have anyone else to guide him. I have faith in Lawton, but old habits are hard to break.”

  Carter scraped his index finger across his chin. Miranda couldn’t help noticing that he hadn’t shaved this morning. Just like she couldn’t help noticing that he had on work boots, worn dungarees and a green Snowy Mountain T-shirt that molded to his upper body. He’d looked official in his police uniform on Monday. Today he looked more like the boy she’d ridden in the golf cart with. She’d immediately thought of those nights when he mentioned the cart a few minutes ago.

  “Lawton and I were never that close,” Carter said. “I know you and he had a special bond, but that didn’t extend to your...” He hesitated as if searching for a word. “...friends,” he finally finished. “Lawton didn’t even finish high school, so I didn’t know much about his life after the tenth grade.”

  “You know what I told you,” she said. “You know I loved him. He protected me and supported me, and listened to me for hours on end. Lawton was the main reason I was able to get by after my daddy died. Momma was always so depressed. I couldn’t talk to her. Lawton...and you...were the ones I depended on.”

  He didn’t look convinced, but at least he gave her idea a few moments of quiet thought. Finally he said, “It won’t work, Miranda. There’s too much history between the cops in Holly River and the Jefferson boys.” He paused as an intuitive light suddenly appeared in his eyes. “You can’t think that if I acted as a mentor to Lawton, or maybe because of the past relationship you and I shared, that I’d ignore the Jeffersons when a crime was committed.”

  His veiled accusation hurt. Did he really think she was suggesting this arrangement to keep Lawton and her worthless other cousin out of trouble? She’d thought he knew her better than that.

  Her expression must have clued him into her thoughts. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know you don’t have an ulterior motive other than Lawton’s well-being,” he said.

  She tried another line of reasoning, hoping to engage Carter’s sense of fairness and community. “Did you know that when Dale picked Lawton up at prison, Lawton had the clothes on his back and twenty-five dollars in cash? That was it, and the money was spent immediately on food because there was hardly a bite of anything in the cabin.”

  “That’s not much of a start...”

  “And you said yourself...he has no family but Dale. Their parents moved away and never contact their boys. And even if they did, it would be an extremely dysfunctional relationship. And Lawton has a limited education, and no job opportunities, not without someone vouching for him anyway.”

  “So I would be putting my reputation on the line to help Lawton get a job?” Carter said. “It’s asking a lot, Miranda, and I don’t know if I’m willing to do that.”

  For the first time Miranda had doubts about her plan. She’d heard stories about Carter’s involvement with the community, the blind eye he often cast to minor traffic violations, the raccoons he’d chased from garbage cans. But she’d never expected Carter to worry about the consequences of his job over someone’s well-being. Still, she knew in her heart that Carter would be the perfect person to help Lawton. “I guess supporting Law might have an effect on your position here,” she admitted. “But at least talk to him. That’s not too much to ask is it? You said you’d help.”

  He expelled a long breath. Maybe she was wearing him down. “Give this a try, Carter. I’m sure you’ll see that Lawton has changed. You could make the difference in him becoming successful on the outside or becoming a statistic who ends up back in prison.

  “Just think for a minute about the life skills that you and I take for granted. Lawton doesn’t even know what a smartphone is. He doesn’t know how to work a computer. He’s never heard of Uber and apps. He has no idea how to act at a job interview. Heck, Carter, he doesn’t even have a photo ID anymore.”

  “You could introduce him to all these things,” Carter said.

  “I’ll do what I can, but he needs a strong male influence, someone who has a strict code of ethics. I’m just the little cousin he used t
o push over Holly River on a tire. You could give him hope for making something of himself.” She stopped, took a deep breath. “I know you, Carter. You may think I’ve forgotten that at one time I knew almost everything about you...”

  His eyes clouded. She hoped she hadn’t gone too far.

  “I don’t think much has fundamentally changed,” she said. “You were a good, honest, hardworking boy, and you’re the same now. I’d stake my life on it.”

  He stared at her for a long moment. In those deep green eyes that once were a window to every feeling he’d had, she couldn’t read his answer today.

  “Who else have you asked?” he said. “Maybe a minister in town, someone who’s more familiar with this type of volunteer work?”

  She managed a slight smile. “Only you, Carter. I want you. And Lawton needs you.”

  His eyes widened, perhaps at the frankness of her statement, perhaps at the wording she’d used. “Give me a couple of days to think about it,” he said. “Where are you staying?”

  She told him.

  “I’ll stop by the Hummingbird Inn on Friday and give you my decision.”

  “You have my number on my business card, if you kept it,” she said.

  “I’ve got it somewhere. And Miranda, my decision will only be to talk to Lawton. I won’t be agreeing to anything else at this time.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you, Carter. You can’t know how much this means...”

  He took his cell phone out of his pocket. “Don’t let’s get ahead of ourselves,” he said, punching in a number. “Hey, Richie, would you bring the golf cart up here?”

  Miranda was relieved to be getting a ride back down. She was suddenly tired and drained, and a large blister was forming on her big toe. But still, it had been a good day so far.

  When the golf cart arrived, Carter surprised her by handing Richie the shearing tool and getting behind the wheel of the cart. “Take over, Rich. I’ll be right back.” To Miranda he said, “Hop in.”

  She did. They started down the pathway. “I suppose I could have gone down on my own,” she said.

  “Yeah, and I suppose you could have gone dancing with that blister on your foot.”

  She smiled, deciding that smiling with Carter felt so natural, so good. They rode silently for a while until Miranda said, “I have to admit, Carter, your choice of profession isn’t what I would have imagined for you. I don’t recall you ever mentioning you wanted to be in law enforcement.”

  “I didn’t, especially, but then I sat in front of that college catalog, and ‘criminal justice’ just seemed to fly off the page at me. And here I am, years later, right back where I started.”

  “Well, the fact that you settled in Holly River doesn’t surprise me,” Miranda said. “You always loved this place.”

  “And you always wanted to get out.”

  She twisted her hands in her lap. “Not always.”

  Another silence followed until Miranda asked if he enjoyed police work.

  “I suppose I do. I’ve always felt it was a way to give back to a community that gave so much to me.”

  “Do you have much serious crime here?”

  “No. Haven’t had a murder, well, not that I know about. Few burglaries. We do get some auto thefts, and that’s a problem when the car belongs to a wealthy tourist from Atlanta. Those people always seem to think that locking a car in quiet Holly River is a precaution they don’t need to take.” He glanced at her as he drove. “I’d say our biggest criminals are bears and raccoons.”

  “Do you wear a gun?” she asked, remembering that she hadn’t bothered to look when he was in uniform on Liggett Mountain.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ve had to draw it a few times. Once I even fired a round in the air when a bunch of tourists from Florida forgot they’d come here to ski, not just drink. But if you’re wondering if I ever aimed at a real person, no, I haven’t. Hope I don’t have to either. Our latest crime involves sprinklers and garden hoses, and I’ll be content to track those down and leave the major crime to the big cities.”

  “I’ll bet you get some strange calls from people wanting you to do things that aren’t in line with crime busting.”

  “I’ve pulled my share of snakes out of sheds and investigated a number of UFO sightings. It’s all part of the job, I guess.”

  “But you enjoy it?”

  “Yeah. As I said, it gives me a chance to be a valued member of the community. That’s important to me because my ancestors weren’t always such good citizens.” He cut a sharp glance her way. “I guess I don’t have to tell you that. My dad, his father and his father before him were only interested in making money. It didn’t matter who got hurt.”

  Like my father did, Miranda thought, remembering the stench of the paper mill Raymond Cahill owned. The factory was just far enough away that the smell never reached Holly River, but on hot summer nights, when the windows were open, folks on Liggett Mountain used to complain. Not that Raymond cared. Until the chemicals used killed her dad and left Miranda and her mother without a father and husband.

  She’d never imagined that Carter would bear the burden of what his ancestors did. She’d known he didn’t get along with Raymond, but his mother, Cora, was always so sweet and caring. She mediated many arguments between the men in her family. “You told me once that you aren’t your father. Remember that?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, it’s true.”

  He smiled. “If I have anything to say about it, I never will be a clone of Raymond Cahill. I’m probably the nicest cop in North Carolina, but there’s a lot of past regret to make up for.”

  They’d reached the bottom of the hill, and Miranda got out of the cart. “I promise to abide by all laws while I’m here,” she said.

  “You don’t know what you’re saying. Some of our statutes are pretty quirky, and you could break a law without even knowing it. But, heck, Miranda, you’re one out-of-towner I’m not worried about.”

  She leaned under the top of the cart. “Thanks for the lift. I’ll see you Friday. And Carter, don’t overthink this whole thing with Lawton. You’ll be a great mentor if you decide to do it.”

  He drove off, heading back toward the hill path, and Miranda walked to her car. She felt strangely sad when she thought back to Carter’s comment about her being an “out-of-towner.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE DRIVE FROM Snowy Mountain to the veterinary rehab center where Miranda had left her daughter was almost a half hour—time enough for Miranda to think about Holly River, the sadness she experienced here and the regrets she had upon leaving. One day in particular she would never forget.

  Fourteen years earlier...

  “I’M SORRY, MRS. JEFFERSON, but there just isn’t anything else we can do. This day has been coming for quite a while.”

  Miranda stared up at their family doctor from the uncomfortable seat in the Bolton County Hospital waiting room. She and her mother had been at the hospital around the clock since Warren Jefferson had been brought in by ambulance three days before. All thoughts of graduation parties and spending time with Carter had been forgotten as Miranda waited for word on her father.

  “There must be something you can do,” Miranda said. “You can’t just give up.”

  Loreen Jefferson had covered her daughter’s arm with her hand, trying to comfort her. “Let Dr. Jackson talk, honey.”

  “The cancer in Warren’s lungs has spread to his colon and his liver. Even if we could control the lung cancer, his other organs would shut down. In a way, it’s a blessing that he was brought in when he was. He’s been able to receive medication that alleviates his pain.”

  A blessing! Miranda had wanted to scream. She’d found her father in his favorite recliner, the TV blaring loudly and blood gurgling from his lips and his ruined lungs. It had seemed to take hours for the ambulance to arrive. />
  “How long does he have?” Loreen asked.

  Dr. Jackson’s face reflected the difficulty of what he had to say. “I think you ladies should use this time to say your goodbyes.”

  Five years! For five long years, Loreen and Miranda had watched the man they loved struggle with every breath until finally he could no longer speak and his appetite had dwindled to practically nothing. Thank goodness the family had health insurance and no mortgage on the Liggett Mountain cabin. There was no way they could have survived on the little disability Warren received from the state of North Carolina and the small paychecks Miranda earned at the hot dog stand outside of town.

  As her father was being wheeled into the ambulance on a stretcher, Miranda had walked beside him, holding his hand. “Be strong, Daddy. Don’t leave us. I’ll make Raymond Cahill pay for what he did to you.”

  And what had Raymond done exactly? He’d offered Warren a substantial raise if he would work in the boiler plant of the paper mill, a position that carried some degree of risk due to the asbestos lining used in the pulp boilers. The last man who’d held the job had retired with no ill effects, and to give his family a better life, Warren had decided the benefits outweighed the risks.

  Only he hadn’t been as lucky as the man before him. After ten years working next to those boilers, asbestos dust and tiny filings settled in his lungs and finally ended his job at the mill and now his life. And there wasn’t really anything Miranda could do in the way of retaliation. The personnel manager at the plant showed her a letter her father had signed agreeing to the terms of his higher-paying job and acknowledging the risks.

  “Is there anything else you’d like to ask me, Loreen, Miranda?” Dr. Jackson said. “If you’re wondering if Warren is comfortable, I can assure you he is. And there should be relief in knowing he won’t be struggling much longer.”

  Miranda had stood, placed her hand under her mother’s elbow and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go sit with him, Mama.”