Fancy Gap

by C. David Gelly

  “Semen!” Levi said. “That means we’ve got—we’ve got—.” “Dang right,” the technician said. “Means we now got ourselves some D and some N and some A. Take another good look, gentlemen, because what you see before your very eyes is the chemical equivalent of a good, old-fashioned hangman’s noose!”

  * * *

  Susan had just arrived at the rented apartment when her cell phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number but decided to answer.

  “Hello is this Susan Preston?” a voice asked.

  She quickly replied, “It is.”

  “Mrs. Preston, this is Scott Cohen. I’m a reporter for the Carroll County News. Is there a good time we can meet to talk about your missing children?”

  “Right now is good.”

  She gave her address to the reporter, and he arrived at the apartment within five minutes.

  “Mrs. Preston, let me begin by saying how sorry I am this has happened. I don’t think we’ve ever had anything like this happen in Carroll County.”

  Susan figured Cohen was all of thirty years old. She wasn’t sure if his condolences offered her any comfort at all. She detailed once again all of the events of the night of the abduction. He seemed to be taking notes on everything she said.

  “Have you or the police issued an Amber Alert for the Pete and Katie?”

  “Well, no. The sheriff ’s investigators suggested that we wait at least a day or two before we took that step. I didn’t really agree, but I discussed it with my husband and we agreed to wait,” Susan replied.

  “In a way, that doesn’t surprise me. The sheriff and other county officials will be none too happy to have this sort of publicity. Bad things like this happen across the border in Winston-Salem and Roanoke, not here in Carroll County. Elections are happening next November, and this will have an impact. The sheriff is up for reelection, as are several county supervisors.”

  “I see,” she said with a frown. “So let me get this straight: The sheriff and the politicians around here are more interested in getting reelected than finding my children? That is outrageous!” she thought.

  “Mrs. Preston, don’t get the wrong idea. I’m certain that the sheriff wants your children found as quickly as possible. It’s the bad publicity he doesn’t want. The sheriff’s opponents will remind voters on a regular basis if this isn’t resolved soon. Do understand that jobs up here are hard to come by in this recession. Several opponents will sling whatever mud they can to gain an advantage.”

  “I understand, Mister Cohen, I really do, but there’s nothing more important to us than our kids.” Susan turned her back and began to sob.

  He waited a moment before he spoke again. “So, can I get the Amber Alert out right now?”

  “Yes, yes, please. Can you help us do that?” she asked.

  “You have current photos of them both?”

  “Yes, I took these two pictures with my iPhone,” Susan replied, handing him the photos with a shaky hand.

  “Great, let’s get the ball rolling. I’ll call Levi Blackburn at the sheriff ’s department to let him know what we’re doing.”

  “Thank you, Mister Cohen. My husband is in Miami for his mother’s funeral and I’m dealing with this alone right now.”

  “I understand, Mrs. Preston, and please call me Scott.”

  “I will, and please do call me Susan.”

  Her thoughts drifted back to her children.

  CHAPTER 15

  Quinn was happy to be back in Fancy Gap. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the place. Though he knew he could never live in a city like the District again, at least he’d had a good time at the retirement party—and he had met Louisa Hawke.

  Louisa. Memories of their brief encounter had taken hold of his thoughts as tenaciously as the Fancy Gap fog that often clung to his mountain lair. As much as he tried to resist it, his mind wandered again and again to the sight of her cuddled up next to him on her couch. Even the details still haunted him—her outdoorsy scent; that silky, red hair; and especially that hard-to-believe skin, nearly as white as a pearl. Plus she was a runner and cyclist. Put it all together, and she was one special package.

  But was that package really headed his way? he thought.

  To get his mind back on track, he busied himself with the neglected chores on the grounds of the mountain house. Ellen had had the green thumb, had been the master gardener who’d planted the vegetable garden and flower beds every spring. To honor her memory and keep from disappointing their children when they visited him, Quinn had gamely tried to keep the tradition alive. He had even kept Ellen’s subscription to the Farmers’ Almanac current. But he simply had no talent with dirt and green things, even with an almanac to help. So whenever he needed fresh vegetables, he usually ended up sneaking to the local farmers market.

  Even now as he puttered about, his thoughts kept drifting back to Louisa. Had she had too much to drink that night in Washington? Or had she really felt attracted to him? Was she really remote and aloof, or was she—well, was she a possibility? He harbored a tiny hope that she would phone him, but he was also a realist. This woman was an accomplished and almost legendary professional, head of the FBI Criminal Division for many years, who had been feted by her own government and even a few foreign ones. What could she possibly see in a man who now lived almost like a hermit in Fancy Gap, of all places, and who hadn’t been with a woman in more than two years?

  Get real, he told himself, chuckling at his own foolishness. It ain’t gonna happen.

  He finally gave up all pretense of doing chores and decided to catch the sunset from his hot tub on the lower deck. He undressed, threw on a robe, and grabbed a bottle of his favorite Michael & David’s Petite Petit. Just as he seated the corkscrew, his cell phone rang. He sprinted for it, suddenly thinking again, against all odds, that it might be Louisa.

  To his dismay, it was only Nigel DuPont, who lived in the house that was directly behind him on the cliff. Quinn groaned when he saw the number. Nigel was retired and a good neighbor who loved to tell jokes to whoever would listen for as long as that person would listen. Quinn had often marveled at Nigel’s patient wife, Kathy, who had undoubtedly heard the same jokes over and over again for years without a peep of protest.

  What was worse, though, was that some thought Nigel to be the unofficial mayor of Fancy Gap, holding court from time-to-time at the Fancy Gap Deli.

  “Quinn! We were just about to file a missing-persons report. Where’n heck you been, man? Ain’t seen you for five or six days.”

  “Oh, just drove up to DC for a retirement party for a friend. Got back last night.”

  “DC? Well, well, how are things in the District of Calamity? Ain’t it amazing how just one president can snafu things so much in such a short time? About time for a new one, don’t you think?” Nigel made no bones about his right-wing leanings.

  “Well, actually,” Quinn said, “my sources tell me there’s no need for a new one. The one we’ve got is going to fix everything by doubling taxes for all those super-rich families like the DuPonts.”

  “Ha! You must mean the other DuPonts. And don’t get me started on taxes. I’m not taking the bait today. Only reason I called was to ask you to lunch tomorrow with me and Sheriff Pierce. You met him yet?”

  “Nope. Heard a lot about him, though.”

  “Well, whaddaya say? Can you come? I’m buying.”

  “Sure, why not?”

  “OK. Tomorrow, eleven thirty at the deli. Bring an extra fifty cents in case he asks for a campaign contribution. And don’t be surprised if he’s gotta leave in a hurry. He’s got his hands full right now. I’m actually surprised, in fact, that I could get him to come to lunch at all. You hear about those missing kids?”

  “There was something on television this morning, I think, but I wasn’t paying much attention.”

  “Terrible thing, just terrible, especially in these parts. Couple from the fog wreck was staying at the old motel and let their kids go outside by t
hemselves, and the kids just, like, disappeared. Not a trace so far. Every deputy in this neck of the woods is out looking for them.”

  “Yeah,” Quinn said. “I can understand that. Abductions are just about the toughest cases. See you tomorrow then. Best to Kathy.”

  So I’ll finally get to meet the sheriff, Quinn thought, opening the Petite Petit and heading back toward the hot tub. Maybe he can tell me why I never see any deputies around here.

  He tossed off his robe and had one foot in the tub when his phone rang again. He quickly picked it up but didn’t look at the caller ID.

  “Hey, Nat!” he said.

  “Who’s Nat?”

  “Louisa? Is that you?”

  “In the flesh, my dear—well, in a cellular sort of way. Who’s Nat?”

  “Natalie, my daughter. I…I just…I thought you were in California at your sister’s. What happened? She throw you out?”

  “Well, no, but her roommate would have if she could have.”

  “Sounds like the roomie has a great deal of affection for you.”

  “Affliction might be a better word. I’d never turn my back on that one. But that’s a story for another time.”

  “You headed home now?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but only long enough to pack a few things, load up my bike, and drive down your way…if that’s OK with you.”

  Quinn eased into a deck chair by the stone fireplace. “Of course, it’s OK,” he said. “Hope you like Hamburger Helper.”

  “Listen, if it’s not a good time to come, just tell me. It’s just that I’ve been thinking about you—and me—a lot for the last couple of days. And, well, I’d sort of like to find out where we’re headed.”

  “Are you kidding? It’s a great time to come. I’ve got a few unanswered questions of my own,” he suggested.

  “Quinn, listen, just let me—well, let me be frank about this. I’m a sixty-year-old woman who’s never really been in a relationship that amounted to anything. My career was probably to blame for all of that, of course, but I don’t have that particular excuse anymore. And what I felt with you the other night was, quite frankly, scary. And the scariest part was that I liked it.”

  Quinn chuckled. “Ahhh, the story of my life yet again. Believe me, you’re not the first woman I ever scared without meaning to.”

  “No, listen, I’m not kidding. Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but I wanted you so badly the other night that I could barely control myself. I almost decided to get it on with you right then. And I have no idea why I changed my mind.”

  “Well, your mind’s not the only thing you changed. I gotta tell you, certain parts of me reacted in ways they haven’t in many years. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. The only thing I want to know now is how fast can you get here?”

  “I’m out of Frisco tonight on the red-eye back to DC. I haven’t really looked it up yet, but if that Fancy Whatchacallit is in the general area I think it is, I could be there around, say, late afternoon.”

  “Fancy Gap. What you like to drink? And eat?”

  “Well, all of your wine is at risk, and we can worry about food later. Now just give me some directions to that mountain lair of yours.”

  After he hung up, Quinn sat very still for a moment and let the realization sink in: She’s coming here. Louisa is coming here. So what you gonna do now, Mr. Hermit?

  Perhaps the answer was not so far away, as he discovered when he finally got up and headed toward the hot tub again, this time with a definite reaction that got his attention.

  Pointer was back! he chuckled as he sunk into the tub.

  CHAPTER 16

  Susan was waiting for Tim at the Greensboro Airport when he flew back from Miami. The ride back to Hillsville was full of details of his mother’s funeral and the family’s offers of support for them. She filled him in on her meeting with Scott Cohen. The Amber Alert had been issued the day before. Already, the sheriff ’s office had received several calls and e-mails, but none of them provided any useful leads. She told him of her daily calls to Levi Blackburn at the sheriff ’s department. They had not developed any new information on the case.

  They soon arrived at the rented apartment in downtown Hillsville. Just as they stepped out of their car, a Carroll County sheriff’s car pulled up alongside them. It was Sheriff Pierce.

  “Mister and Mrs. Preston, I’m Sheriff Pierce. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to meet you both. I know that Levi Blackburn has been in daily contact with you, Mrs. Preston.”

  “Yes, he has, sheriff,” and it’s good that he has stayed in touch. Susan replied “Let’s go inside and talk.”

  They went into the apartment and sat at the kitchen table.

  “Would you like some coffee, sheriff?”

  “No, thank you, Susan—may I call you Susan?” he asked.

  “Yes, by all means.”

  “First of all, let me say how sorry I am that this happened to you and your children. I want you to know that every resource that my department has is devoted to finding your children.”

  Tim nodded. “Sheriff, we appreciate that from the bottom of our hearts. This is crazy! We still can’t believe this has happened.”

  “Folks, I want you to consider something. I want to hold a press conference tomorrow with you both by my side. The big television stations in Roanoke and Winston-Salem want to cover this story. But I don’t want it to happen if you’re not comfortable with that.”

  Susan spoke first. “Sheriff, that sounds like what we need to do. The more people who know about this, the better.”

  “I’m all for it,” Tim offered. “Maybe someone out there knows something and can tell us where Pete and Katie are.” They both started to cry after Tim’s last words. The room was silent for a bit.

  Sheriff Pierce looked at them closely. “I understand this is very difficult for you. If I may ask, do you belong to any particular church at home?”

  “Yes, we do. We’re Catholic.” Susan began to cry again.

  “Well, we don’t have many Catholic churches here in Carroll County. But there’s a very small parish not far from here on the Blue Ridge Parkway. Father Tony has been there for about five years now, I believe. I know he’s been a blessing to that congregation. He’s also very active in the community. He’s on the board of directors of the small house we have for abused women and children. He’s been a big influence in raising funds for it. He’s so good, even the Baptists like him.”

  Tim and Susan smiled weakly.

  “I believe he left a much larger church somewhere else to come here. Must have been a shock for him to end up in little Carroll County. If you like, I can call him today.”

  “That would be great, sheriff,” said Tim. “I think he could be a big help to us both.”

  “I truly believe he will be, folks. Oh, and I think he’s a Franciscan. He wears a long, brown robe.”

  “ We knew some great Franciscan priests in a parish we once belonged to. They’re wonderful people,” Susan said.

  “Great, I’ll call him later,” the sheriff said as he stood up.

  “Thank you, Sheriff Pierce,” Susan said as she saw him to the door.

  The sheriff climbed into his car and took out his cell phone. Not only would Father Tony be a good sounding board for Tim and Susan, he would also distract them from hindering his team’s progress in the investigation. He looked up the priest’s number and pushed the Send button.

  “Hello, this is Father Tony,” a voice answered.

  “Father Tony, this is Sheriff Pierce. Is this a good time to talk?”

  “It is, sheriff. How can I help you?”

  * * *

  He knew the first week would be the most difficult for the children. The world they knew had suddenly ended. They were now in a strange place with someone they didn’t know. He knew what had to be done. He needed to change the way they thought about their parents and convince them that he was the best person to care for them now. He would provide the food, shelter
, and love they needed. He would quickly become their new Daddy.

  For the first few days, he had tied them to their beds and kept them blindfolded. He had them eat separately and go to the toilet alone. He took the blindfold off Pete first. Pete started to cry as soon as he saw him. He slapped Pete across the face.

  “If you stop crying, I won’t have to hit you.”

  Pete started to cry harder and said, “I want my mommy and daddy.”

  He slapped him harder. “Your mommy and daddy are dead. I have to take care of you and your sister now.”

  “Who are you?” Pete asked.

  “I’m the person God put on earth to protect you from the evils of this life. I’m your redeemer. I’m your new Daddy”

  Pete cried harder. He slapped him again.

  “If you don’t cry, I won’t slap you. Be a nice boy, and I won’t hit you.”

  “How is my sister? Did you hurt her?”

  “She’s fine. She’s just sleeping a little longer. Are you hungry?”

  “Yes,” Pete said hoarsely.

  “What do you like to eat? Do you like pizza?”

  “Yes. So does Katie.”

  He sat Pete in the chair and left the room. He went into the makeshift kitchen and put a large frozen pizza in the microwave oven. A few minutes later, he returned to the room with plates and a can of Coke for Pete. Pete was staring at the wall. A little smile came across his face when he looked at the hot pizza on his plate. He ate two slices before speaking.

  “This is good pizza. Can Katie have some?”

  “She can when she wakes up.”

  Pete was halfway through his fourth slice when Katie began to stir. He went to her and untied her wrists. Katie lay there for a while and focused on Pete.

  “What are you eating?”

  “Pizza. Want some?”

  “Yes, please,” she replied as she raised her head off the pillow.

  He went to her bed, took her hand, led her to the table, and put two slices of pizza on a plate in front of her. Katie gently took one piece and took a little bite.