by Jason Deas
The sleepy doctor answered expecting a medical emergency. “Hello.”
“Hey doc, it’s Cam.”
“Jesus Christ boy, you’ve had me worried to death.”
“I know, but I didn’t want to put you in any danger.”
Dr. Wilson sat up in bed and turned on his light. “What the hell is going on? You basically disappeared overnight.”
“I had to or Rowdy was going to try to pin Clarence’s murder on me.”
“The whole town is in an uproar about that. Rowdy’s acting all strange about it—he won’t say if he thinks you did it or not. Nobody can pin him down to an answer. He keeps saying it’s an ongoing investigation and he can’t talk about it. When people ask about you he says the same thing. Now what the hell happened?”
“Rowdy killed Clarence.”
“I figured as much. His heart’s been giving him extra trouble and I’m sure it’s the stress of the whole situation.”
“I know he did it,” Cam said, looking at Blanca as she stirred. She quickly settled back and began breathing heavily again. “He doesn’t know how I know, but he has a good feeling I’ve got it pinned on him. He told me if I didn’t disappear, he’d frame me for it.”
“Why wouldn’t he just do that anyway, instead of leaving a loose end like you flapping in the breeze?”
“I bet if he could go back and do it all again he would.”
“You’ve got him really worried. I’ve never seen him as bad as he was this afternoon.”
“I bet. It’s only a matter of time before he comes for me.”
“He said as much when he was in my office today. I offered to give him something for his nerves when he does. I hope he takes me up on it so I can give you a heads-up.”
“I appreciate that. I’ll call you again in two days. Do you have caller ID?” Dr. Wilson said he did. “You now have my number. Don’t worry about me, OK?”
“I’ll try. You watch your back.”
Cam had only told one other person in his life about his ability other than Daphne. In a moment of weakness, when he thought he might lose his mind, he confided in Dr. Wilson. Dr. Wilson was a family friend and a person he trusted. Fortunately for Cam, he picked a tight-lipped soul to confide in. At first, of course, Dr. Wilson thought he was delusional. Cam made him a quick believer when he looked into his eyes and discovered his mistress who happened to be his wife’s close friend and the town’s librarian.
Cam and Dr. Wilson formed a connection and a friendship. After the death of the doctor’s wife the two men grew closer. The loss, coupled with the guilt over his short affair, made the grieving process even more difficult. Cam thought the remorse from the infidelity would kill his friend and he assured him everyone had faults. Over games of chess in the evenings, Cam would tell the doctor the discoveries he’d made into the secret lives of those he encountered during his day. He never named names, except for a few times when his friend swore he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he knew the identity of the person who’d committed the misdeed. The doctor would chuckle and say something like, “Well, that explains why I had to up his anxiety medication last week.” Or, “I knew she was lying to me when she told me the weight loss was from clean eating and yoga.”
Dr. Wilson worried about Cam’s drinking. In an effort to figure out what may have triggered Cam’s ability he ran a bevy of tests—everything from simple blood tests to brain scans and everything in between. He tested at least fifteen different medications to see if they could dampen the ability the way alcohol did. They didn’t have any success. Cam only ended up mixing his medication with the alcohol, which further loosened his grip on reality.
Other than Dr. Wilson, Cam had no other close friends. He let friends he had grown up with slip away one by one as their eyes betrayed them and their actions disappointed him. He tried to act as normal as possible around the doctor, his last friend, but some nights, especially those in which he was deep into the booze, he expressed what a nightmare it was to be able to do what he could do. Dr. Wilson would listen, nod his head, and make his next move on the chess board, which was exactly what Cam needed.
Chapter Nineteen
Cam opened his eyes and spied the clock at a few minutes before ten. He thought it strange that Claude had not been by as he had in the past few days. He wondered if Blanca was still asleep on the couch. She was gone. She hadn’t left a note.
He took a shower after putting on a pot of coffee and taking his usual morning dose of his hangover concoction. As the warm water fell over his face, he felt the spider webs of the previous night’s overindulgence begin to fade away. The smell of the fresh coffee entered his nostrils as he dressed. Skipping breakfast, he filled his traveler’s cup and carafe and headed to town wondering if he should tell Daphne about his houseguest. She probably wouldn’t believe me if I told her nothing happened.
People packed the diner as usual. The late breakfast crowd almost filled the restaurant. Cam found a booth at the back of the restaurant and slid in, trying his best not to make eye contact with anyone. He didn’t see Claude sitting at the opposite end of the restaurant at the counter. Claude saw him.
As Cam pulled the menu out of the rack on the edge of the table, Claude took a seat across from him with a grim look on his face.
“So you did come by this morning?”
Claude nodded his head.
“It’s not what it looked like,” Cam promised. “She came by late last night after leaving the crime scene. She had a drink and we talked. She crashed on the couch and I slept in my bed. I promise.”
“If you were trying to make inroads with my sister, I’d have to say you just took a wrong turn.”
Cam was about to answer when Daphne arrived at the table.
“I see you brought your own coffee.” She smiled and put her hand on Cam’s shoulder. “What can I get you?”
“Can I have a minute? I haven’t had a chance to decide.” She disappeared after telling him she’d be back in a few minutes. “Thanks for not telling her.”
“How do you know I didn’t?”
“I don’t think she would’ve acted like that if you did.”
“Maybe she just doesn’t care about you.” Claude wasn’t joking.
“I’d like to think she does.”
“OK,” Claude said, cracking a smile. “I’m through with mean Claude. I’m scary as hell, aren’t I?”
“Terrifying.”
“Hey, sis!” Claude called across the restaurant. “Give him the Claude Special.” Daphne nodded.
“What if I didn’t want the Claude Special?”
“We don’t always get what we want.”
“So, you believe me, right?”
“Of course. I peeked in the window and saw Blanca on the couch.”
“You scare me,” Cam said, taking a sip of coffee. Changing the subject, he asked, “Now, who is the guy who made the beer Hank gave me yesterday?”
“Oh, that’s just Darren. He’s an old friend of Hank’s.”
“Is he part of the operation?”
“Not really. Well, sort of. He’s got his own operation over in Dahlonega. Sometimes we help each other when the heat’s on.”
“Don’t you find it strange that Billy’s body was found near a creek and the name of the beer Hank gave me was Killer Creek?”
“I’d say it’s a coincidence.”
“We call those leads in the law enforcement business.”
“Then you should follow it,” Claude said, getting up. “I assure you it’s a dead end.” He winked.
“Are you making a pun?” Cam called over his shoulder.
“Enjoy the Claude Special,” he said, ignoring the question.
After his Claude Special, which consisted of a mammoth biscuit with runny eggs, bacon, and cheese grits stuffed inside, Cam retired to his office to make a phone call. It took him a while to track Blanca down, and when he did he could tell she was hesitant to talk to him.
“Can we pretend last n
ight didn’t happen?” she asked, once she was in her office with the door closed.
“Sure. It didn’t happen.”
“I may have said some things I didn’t mean.”
“You didn’t say anything I didn’t deserve.”
“I don’t make a habit of drinking. It gives me a loose tongue. I’m not sure if it was a dream or not, but I may have divulged something that I shouldn’t have.”
“Must have been a dream. All I remember is you telling me I made you feel better about yourself because I’m such a mess.”
“I’m sorry.”
Cam could hear relief creeping into her voice.
“Are you sure that’s all I said?”
“It’s all I remember. I had a few too many myself and it affects my memory.”
“OK. Let’s not talk about it again.”
“Talk about what?”
Blanca laughed, now fully relieved.
“I’ve got two people I want to talk to today if you don’t mind.” He heard papers shuffling on her desk and continued. “I’m going to go over and talk to Alice Prescott first to see if she can think of anything that might help us out. Then I’m going to see if I can find this Darren character I’ve uncovered. Probably nothing, but I want to run down all of our leads.”
“I know him. He’s trouble. You be careful over there and don’t get out of your car without blowing the horn. He’s got a bunch of mean dogs that guard the place.”
“So you know him?”
“Everybody knows him. He’s an old friend of Hank’s and somehow involved in their operation. He knows he’s not welcome in this town. If he does come to town he makes sure we don’t see him. Last time he did he was told if he ever came back we’d find a reason to lock him up.”
Cam heard a voice enter her office.
“I have to go. I’ll tell you about it later.” She hung up.
Alice Prescott lived at the end of a winding dirt road that cut through a small creek. Cam’s car bottomed out in the creek and he floored it with the thought he might get stuck in the middle of what seemed like nowhere. A quarter of a mile later he saw the house. A classic log home built with true timber stood in a clearing. He hoped she was home and that the trip down the long road wasn’t made without a payoff.
Climbing the steps toward the front door he peered into the windows, searching for signs of life. As he neared the top he heard the faint sound of music. Good sign, he thought. He rang the doorbell and the music stopped. Feet pounded across the floor and all went quiet.
Not sure what to do he called out, “It’s Cameron Caldwell!”
The lock on the front door clicked and the barrel of a gun was the first thing that came into his line of sight. Cam threw his hands in the air as if under arrest and said, “I come in peace.” Well, that sounded stupid.
The door opened fully and the barrel of the gun dropped. Alice stood there with a funny look on her face. “You come in peace?”
“You scared me and that’s what came out.”
“We don’t get many visitors,” Alice said, motioning for him to come inside. Once he was inside the door, Alice set the shotgun on a rack that hung just inside. “I’m surprised your car made it here. That road’s made for trucks.”
“I see that now. How in the world do you get electricity out here? It must have cost as much to get it out here as it did to build the house.”
“No. The electricity actually comes from the other direction of the drive. The main road is only a tenth of a mile behind the house. When Billy built this house he wanted it to be inaccessible. He could’ve cut the road the other way, but he didn’t.”
“Well, I think he succeeded.”
“When we split up the first time he built a new home in town and gave me this one. Or I should say, he let me live in this one. Billy Prescott didn’t give anything to anyone.”
In the kitchen, Alice went to the coffee maker. “Coffee?” Cam shook his head. “Iced tea?” He shook his head again. “Cold beer?” He nodded his head up and down.
Alice handed him the beer and before he took his first drink he looked her in the eyes. His head snapped back and forth and his head filled with a vision. In his mind he saw Alice crumbling up a white powder and mixing it with whiskey and lemonade. The vision switched and he saw Alice standing over Billy in a hospital bed. She looked deflated.
“Thanks,” he said, twisting the top off the beer. “I guess you know why I’m here?”
“You working for her?”
“I am. How did your daughter take the news?”
“She cried her eyes out. I think it was more from the shock of the situation than from the loss. Since that long cry, she’s been fine. I actually think I haven’t seen her so jovial and stress free in years.” Alice poured herself a glass of ice tea and sat down across from him. “He was an evil man, Cam. Pure evil. Everything was all about him. He didn’t care for me. He didn’t care for my daughter. He cared for Billy Prescott and that was it.”
“Was he evil enough to kill?”
“Yes he was, but I didn’t do it. He’s made enough people mad to give you a list of suspects at least a mile long.”
“Who do you have your money on?”
“If my daughter was strong enough to dig a hole that deep I’d put my money on her. But she’s not so I’d have to go with either Claude or Daphne although I don’t think Daphne could dig a hole that deep either.”
“Who said anything about a hole?” Cam said, taking a long drink from his beer.
“Please.” Alice guffawed. “I guess you haven’t lived in a small town before. There aren’t any secrets.”
“Seems to me that there are more than enough secrets in this one.”
“In my book, a secret is something only two or three people know. There aren’t any secrets in this town. The only secret we might have is who killed Billy. And I don’t believe for a second that that’s a secret.”
“Answer me this question honestly and I’ll believe everything else you say.”
“OK.”
“Have you ever tried to kill Billy?”
This time she was the one who looked him deep into the eyes.
“How do you know things you’re not supposed to know?” Cam shrugged his shoulders. “You knew where to find Kaye without me telling you. You claimed you knew her name without prior knowledge. How do you do that?” Cam shrugged again. “Either you’re one hell of a shyster or you’re the world’s best detective.”
“Let’s go with that—the world’s best detective.”
“Jesus,” she said, gulping at her drink. “I think I may need something stronger.” Getting up, Alice opened the cabinet over the fridge and pulled down a bottle of whiskey. Her glass of tea was half empty and she filled it with the brown liquid. She replaced the bottle and shook her glass to mix the contents. “OK. I did try once. It didn’t work and it scared me to death. Billy got sick as a dog and was in the hospital for three days. Everybody thought it was some kind of serious food poisoning. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Alice began to cry.
“Stop,” Cam said putting his hand on hers. “I’m not going to tell anybody.” She sniffled a few times and dried her eyes. “If I had a kid and someone was trying to harm them, I would probably do the same thing you did. You overreacted. Let’s leave it at that. How old is Kaye? I’m guessing fifteen?”
“Fourteen. She just turned fourteen.”
“Of course. That makes sense. In Georgia, a child can decide which parent they want to live with at fourteen.”
“Yeah. The closer she got to fourteen, the tighter Billy’s grip on her seemed to get. He knew once she reached fourteen that he would never see her again and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Kaye was the way he controlled me and without her as a pawn he was spinning.”
“What kind of friends does she have?”
“Are you really asking me this? Do you really think Kaye would have some of her friends kill Billy?”
“I’v
e been in law enforcement for fifteen years and I’ve seen crazier things.”
“No. She has good friends.”
Outside, thunder boomed. Rain began to fall. Alice got up from the table and looked out the window.
“You have to go,” she said. “Now.”
“Why?”
“When it rains the creek that runs across the road can only be passed with a truck. You’ve got about ten minutes before you’re here for the duration of the storm.”
Cam finished his beer in one long gulp and stood from the table.
“We’ll talk again later.”
“Sure. Just keep my baby out of this.” Cam assured her he would. “Oh. I’m not planning on going to town for a few days. Will you return some books to the library for Kaye?” Cam agreed. “They’re in my truck.”
Cam followed Alice to her truck. While she dug inside for the books, he looked around the open parking area under the house. Interestingly enough, next to one of the timber pillars holding up the house, he observed a shovel. The end of the shovel looked to be covered with fresh dirt.
Chapter Twenty
Cam had only one more beer on his trip to Dahlonega to find Darren. None of the Miner’s Bluff crew would give him an address. He had to resort to the Dahlonega Police Department for hopes of securing a location and didn’t want to show up smelling like a brewery. Once in town he went to a burger joint and ordered a sandwich with extra onions and jalapeños. He hoped the ingredients would do the trick covering up his mild alcohol intake. They did.
Still in possession of his old identification, he flashed it to the officer at the desk, gave him Darren’s first name and a vague description, and walked out moments later with an address and a crudely drawn map. Once again he was warned about the dogs.
Driving yet again down a dirt road, Cam wondered if all moonshiners and shady characters lived down dirt roads. Fortunately, Darren’s driveway wasn’t quite as long as Alice’s and there were no creeks to cross. The house at the end of the drive was a prefab deal that looked run down and in need of repair. As instructed, he honked his horn and waited.