Chapter 4
Lucky Breaks
Bella relaxed. She’d put in a long day cleaning the small loft that made up the upstairs area of the small cabin. She’d been here three weeks and had spent most of her time cleaning the downstairs area. The place had not been lived in for over forty years and it had taken that long to get just the downstairs habitable. Coated in decades of dust and cobwebs and woodsy creatures she didn’t want to even think about, the abandoned cabin, an inheritance of her aunt’s from a distant relative had become her project and refuge. It kept her mind off her mother’s passing, and kept her busy. It also kept her from worrying too much and obsessing about possibly being caught.
Before arriving in Cherokee, Bella purchased a few cleaning supplies when the bus she had taken made a pit stop. She knew she’d need some things, but she hadn’t a clue. The place had been a disaster. She’d already spent a good chunk of change on cleaning supplies alone, but now after three weeks of hard work it was finally taking shape. It had been a month since she had run, and she’d keep working this hard and take these long days over that first week any day. She’d been so terrified.
She’d dumped her mom’s car in Tallahassee before leaving Florida. The license plate could identify her mom and be traced back to her. The four hour drive she’d used it for had her frantic. Her heart slammed in her chest the whole time and her fingers, white-knuckled on the steering wheel cramped from long hours at the wheel.
After leaving the car, she’d been lucky to get a ride from a friendly female truck driver to Atlanta. She’d rented a hotel and stayed four days delaying her journey to North Carolina until she felt safer about coming here. She’d holed up in the dive of a motel watching the news and carefully planning out her next steps.
She’d heard her name mentioned twice in connection with her disappearance and the upcoming trial of her ex-boyfriend just weeks away. Her ex was bad news, worse than even she had realized. The reporter covering the bank robbery that had taken the life of a security guard had done an expose of the Roman Family. The father owned several strip clubs in Hillsborough and Manatee counties, and had been in and out of the news for drug related crimes, extortion, and running a prostitution ring through several of his massage parlors. He’d avoided prison time due to crafty lawyers, sharks who always managed to get him off on some kind of technicality. The piece the reporter did was entitled Above the Law. The sons, one of which was her ex-boyfriend Anthony, apparently had robbed the bank along with her, having been cut off from his father after the father found out the son was actively involved in his own side-line pursuits. The reporter ended the piece quipping sarcastically that the brothers were claiming they did not plan the crime, Bella had in fact planned it in order to get money to pay for her mom’s medical expenses, which was total crap, Bella quietly fretted. Her mom’s insurance had covered her treatments, but that was their defense. The brothers’ lawyers were claiming she had given the weapons to them and told them they were not loaded. Their attorney was arguing the true mastermind was at large, and the brothers deserved to be charged with a lesser crime. Bella had cried silently listening to the clip of the attorney weaving the tale that made her appear guilty as sin. He was obviously one of the many attorneys on the Roman Payroll.
The news story was also one of the reasons she hadn’t left Atlanta either. She’d been too afraid to leave the hotel room. She’d been afraid of being recognized. They’d plastered her drivers’ license photo across the screen and some more recent pictures of her taken from her Facebook page. Luckily she had golden highlights through her long brown hair in all those photos and she could take care of that easily.
The second day after the news report, she’d risked running out across the street late one night to on all night Walgreens and purchased some items to help change her appearance. Unfortunately that meant her hair. A box of mahogany brown hair hid her highlights. She used the scissors she’d purchased as best she could to create wavy layers taking nearly six inches off her hair that had reached three quarters of the way down her back. Now it curled softly, just past her shoulders. She rather liked the ease and the lightness of it. She also liked the color, much more like her own natural coloring she hadn’t sported in years. It made a drastic difference. As for makeup, she’d decided to go without any at all. She normally wore it, but not wearing any at all was enough of a difference. She didn’t think she’d be recognized, if people gave her just a passing glance. But she’d stayed at the hotel for another three days to be sure, shopping at night on occasion for new clothes, jeans, and sweaters and simple shirts that revealed nothing. She’d destroyed all her clothes, much more fashionable, but didn’t regret it as she was looking to create a whole new identity for herself.
* * *
After Atlanta, she decided it would be safer to move on. It had been easy enough to keep the motel cleaning staff away by keeping her do not disturb sign up, but she didn’t want to risk staying longer. She paid for a week up front, not knowing how long she would be able to stay but felt the time was right. Her hair and new bland clothes made her feel fairly confidant she wouldn’t be recognized, so she’d taken another risk, and moved on.
From Atlanta, she risked purchasing a bus ticket. She’d found the nearest greyhound service station, The Marta-Garnett Station, in the phone book, and had taken the city bus to get there. Once there, she knew her final destination would be North Carolina, but at the last moment she’d changed her mind. She didn’t want to go directly there in case the police, or worse, someone from the Roman family went looking for her there first. A circuitous route would be better.
She wasn’t planning on going anywhere near Memphis where she had lived with her mom and had grown up. That would be too risky. She could be recognized. But, she was planning on going to Cherokee where her aunt had inherited an old cabin. It was on the other side of the state, closer to Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge and was actually in North Carolina along the border of Tennessee. Her mom’s idea had been brilliant. Surely, no one would look there. Her aunt had inherited the rundown place from a distant relative. It was in the middle of nowhere, and she had never been there, her mom only talking about it on occasion and remembered visiting there when she herself had been a girl a few times. She’d seen pictures of the place, and it had looked rustic then. She couldn’t imagine what condition it was in now, but it was definitely a place where she could hide out.
But, she did want to get closer to her eventual destination, so she had decided upon Birmingham, Alabama. It would get her close, but still give her time to plan on how she would get to her final destination. She didn’t want to risk taking a bus right to her last stop, and her funds were limited, and she had to watch carefully how and where she spent her money. It would have to last years until she could work up the courage to look for work, or find a way to make a living and create her new identity.
The nights were the worse. Her doubts plagued her. She kept thinking she should turn herself in, but she promised her mother. Her mother had been terrified of what would happen to her in jail. And she was too. After she had watched the news program about the Roman’s, she had been terrified just how far their reach was. No, she was doing the right thing, she told herself every time she woke up from one of her nightmares in which either the police or the Romans caught up to her.
So, Birmingham it had been. She’d only stayed three days when an opportunity had arisen. Bored and lonely, she had ventured out of her motel one evening when she had heard drums.
There was a park across the street from where she was staying, and there was a fair of some kind going on. A Native American festival of some sort, she soon discovered as she ventured over to the small square under the cover darkness. There were tents and display booths, and under them were many Native Americans displaying their wares; crafts, beautiful jewelry, and traditional clothes and herbal medicines. She walked by many booths, and made her way over to the drum circle. People converged around the drummers, and she listened t
o the rhythmic sounds, and soothing beats, and thrumming. She almost lost herself and her fears momentarily by the enchanting rhythm. She didn’t notice time passing until a small commotion behind her snapped her out of her reverie.
“Oh no! What happened Graham?” Bella heard a concerned voice call out.
Bella turned to see an old Native American man stooped over in pain. “It’s my back. It gave out again. I was trying to carry those boxes to my truck.” He was pointing at several large crates and boxes piled high.
“You should’ve asked me to get one of the boys. They would’ve gladly helped you.” A much younger Indian woman with long black ebony hair, very pregnant, was helping the older man to a seat behind his booth.
“I know, but I didn’t want to bother them. It looks like they’re really enjoying themselves.” His voice reverberated like gravel as he reached his hand behind him to rub his back.
“You foolish old man,” she scolded. “Now how are you going to drive the two and a half hours back to Cherokee with your back in this condition?” Bella’s heart thundered.
“Now Clara, I’ll manage just fine. I always do. Don’t you worry about me.” He began to get up, but winced in pain and sat back down. It was clear the man was in agony.
“You’ll do no such thing. WE will finish packing up your truck, and we’ll just have to leave it somewhere and find someone to come for it later. You’ll have to drive home with us.” Her tone brokered no argument.
“I can’t leave my truck Clara. Someone’s bound to see it and they might steal all my things.” The old man sounded quite worried. “I’ll take my time. I’ll take it slow. Don’t worry. I’ll get there,” he repeated.
Bella’s mind ran a mile a minute. This could be her chance. “I can drive you,” she blurted. Two sets of beautiful brown almond shaped eyes turned her way. The woman, Clara, looked at her suspiciously. The old man smiled.
“Pardon me?” Clara’s tone was sharp and suspicious.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. I was headed that way tomorrow. I was going to take a bus, but since you need a ride and you don’t want to leave your stuff here, I can drive him,” she offered again.
Clara looked at her warily still, and then looked down at Graham. He just shrugged his shoulders.
“What’s your name?” Clara asked. “And why are you headed to Cherokee?”
Bella had to think fast. She needed these people to trust her. She had to be as honest as she could, but didn’t want to reveal too much of her past. She didn’t want the lies to snowball into something she couldn’t remember and get caught up in later. “My name is . . . Izzy. And I inherited a property in the area. It was a distant relatives and . . . I’m looking to start over there.” It was the best she could do for now.
The old man looked at the girl. He saw something in her eyes. “Boyfriend trouble?” He asked full of concern.
Bella nodded demurely, even though it was the biggest understatement she had heard in months.
“Alright. I think it would be alright. Clara?” The old man looked up to the younger woman to see if she was okay with this.
“What is the place?” she questioned. “Cherokee is a small town.”
She had to be honest here. The place had been abandoned for decades and surely they would not know the connection to her. “It used to belong to May and Normand Perdue.”
Clara nodded ad her eyes widened in surprise. “I know the place. That’s going to be a lot of work.” Bella noticed Clara’s face had somewhat relaxed as she continued to think.
“Yeah, I know. I expected as much. But it’s mine now, and I’ve always wanted to go back to my roots.” The older man, Graham, was nodding approvingly at her words. He’d known the Perdue’s. Good people.
“Well . . . I guess it would be alright . . . But I’ll follow you out there with the kids. Does that sound okay?” She eyed Bella still just a tad suspiciously.
“Sounds more than fair,” Bella readily agreed. “Just let me run over to my motel. It’s right across the street. I’ll grab my stuff and then I can finish helping you pack up the truck.”
“Sounds like a fair trade to me,” Graham put in. He was smiling at her kindly.
Bella returned the smile, but then waited on the younger woman’s final stamp of approval. Clara finally nodded at her and wasn’t looking at her as suspiciously as before.
With a quick wave, Bella turned and made her way across the street. She moved quickly. She didn’t want these people to change their minds if she were gone too long. She desperately hoped this was a sign her luck was changing.
Chapter 5
Good Deeds
Cleaning the downstairs had been her first priority, but now she was tackling the upstairs loft. The cabin had to be over one hundred years old. But thankfully, when she arrived after Graham had dropped her off the following morning, the place still stood.
After arriving very late in Cherokee, Graham had insisted she sleep at his place for the night. The road to the Perdue place was treacherous and not lit by street lights. The steep inclines she had passed on the ride into Cherokee made Bella agree to his suggestion although she had wanted to get there quickly.
Graham made her breakfast that morning and then offered to drive her on up to the cabin. He had told her he knew of the place and its location although he knew no one had lived there for a very long time. He also suggested a stop at the local thrift store for supplies she might need first. Bella thanked him for his kindness and thoughtfulness as he helped her pack up two carts of cleaning supplies, rags, a mop, brooms and a bucket. He kept adding things to her pile as she perused the aisles and his additions had all proved very useful.
While shopping, she confessed she’d never been there herself but her mother had when she was a very little girl. She was relieved when Graham didn’t ask her what her mother’s name was as she wouldn’t have known what to tell him. She needed to be more careful when she spoke. But Graham was kind and didn’t pry when she clammed up at her own mistake.
He just nodded and asked no questions. On the ride to the cabin afterwards he had filled the time by talking about his own life and growing up in Cherokee.
She learned he was eighty-four years old. He was retired and hadn’t worked for the last ten years, just made crafts for local vendors to fill his days. He also revealed he had no living children. His one son had died in Vietnam. But his family was huge. He still had two living sisters, over twenty nieces and nephews, and over forty great nieces and nephews. And most of them still lived on the reservation. He had his own home with a small workshop where he made Native American jewelry and other arts and crafts he sold to vendor’s who sold them to tourists passing through Cherokee on their way through the Smoky Mountains to Gatlinburg, Pigeon Forge, and Nashville.
After she thanked him for his help for the umpteenth time, he told her he simply liked to keep busy. “In our community, no good deed goes unanswered. You helped me when I was in need and I’m only returning the favor.”
As they passed through the small town, he indicated a turn up ahead tucked away into the bend of the road. “That’s Perdue Road. Yours is the only place on it. You’ll have privacy.”
Bella smiled kindly. She was glad for that little tidbit. Not having too many neighbors right now would be a good thing. “I’m okay with that,” she mumbled self-consciously.
“It’s two miles, maybe a bit more,” he informed her. “Straight up.” He held his index finger up and laughed.
Once they were on the road, Bella had to laugh too while the vehicle climbed the road. He hadn’t been joking. It was practically straight up. The incline made her dizzy as did the drop offs that appeared out of nowhere on either side of the road. Bella clung to the dash board or the side of the truck a time or two as he weaved his way up the mountain road.
Growing up in Memphis hadn’t prepared her for this. The geography there was not nearly as treacherous. She was surprised the truck actually made i
t up the incline although it began to level off for the last mile. When they finally turned into a clearing Bella breathed a sigh of relief. She could see the small cabin off in the distance.
It was dilapidated to say the least. It needed painting but the roof looked intact thankfully. The front porch sagged and would definitely need to be repaired. Graham gave her a sympathetic look as he looked from the cabin to her.
“You sure you want to stay here, Izzy?” he asked giving her an opportunity to change her mind.
“I do, Graham,” she gave him a tentative smile. “I need time to think, just figure out who I am. I’m not afraid of hard work and this is going to be good for me.”
Graham gave her a confidant and reassuring smile. “I can understand that,” he murmured. “We all have our trials, and hard work, well, sometimes that can help more than anything to help us forget about our problems.” He reached over and patted Bella’s hand which lay on the seat next to him. She gave his gnarled hand a squeeze. She liked him. A lot. Her first friend, she thought.
“Exactly. I’m glad you understand,” she glanced at him under eyelashes meant to hide her emotion. This man’s words of wisdom soothed her doubts. Getting lost in this project would help her immensely. “Plus, I expected the place would need a lot of work. Thanks for stopping and letting me buy some things before we came all the way up here, and it was a good idea of yours for me to bring this bed roll. Thank you so much. The things I had weren’t going to be enough,” she admitted.
“Well, let me come in with you Izzy and make sure it’s safe though. I’ll check in on you tomorrow to see if there’s anything else you need. I got the time, and I don’t mind helping out and running some errands for you here and there.”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that Graham. You’ve done so much already,” Bella stated as she climbed out of the old pick-up truck.
The Bounty Hunters: The Marino Bros.: Box Set Page 29