“Me? How is it my fault?” I said as I signaled Nickie to bring me a drink.
“My wife. She claims we need to be more involved in the community and wants to know why Carson Reno is always attending these events while she and I never do! So, it is your fault!”
“Good,” I said laughing. “Be sure to put on your ‘boredom belt’ because that is exactly what these things are – boring!”
“For some reason,” Leroy continued, “my wife was not going to take no for an answer on this one. The mayor and all the city’s ‘big shots’ will be there so she insisted we attend. And please remember, I am blaming you for what ever happens this whole evening!”
“Ouch,” I giggled. “Well, just have a few cocktails and enjoy yourself. I do suggest you protect your checkbook because that can get out of hand.”
“Well anyway, I’m glad you’re here,” Leroy said seriously. “We’ve got some things to talk about.”
“Hold that thought, I need to call Memphis and check on Joe,” I said getting up and heading for the front door and the payphone.
Joe was in his office and didn’t sound as ‘chipper’ as he had this morning. I assumed some of the pain medication had worn off and he was feeling his injuries. He had made it safely to Memphis and was planning to spend the next few days with his parents in Tupelo. Joe made me promise to keep him updated on the situations in Humboldt and I agreed to call him on a regular basis.
Back inside Chiefs, Nickie had delivered my drink, and I sat back down on the barstool next to Leroy.
“Okay,” I said sipping my first Jack and Coke of the day. “What do you need to talk about?”
“We’ve got a lead on the white truck,” Leroy started. “A young ‘hot-head’ named Billy Joe Bobbitt owns one similar to the truck Joe described. We are trying to locate him now, but remember, there are a lot of white trucks around here and this is a pretty big county.”
“Well, I don’t care about the size of the county,” I interrupted, “but if it is the same truck, you’ll find red paint from Joe’s car somewhere on it. They hit him hard enough to do damage to the truck and would certainly have traces of paint on that damage.”
“I understand, and we’ll find him – sooner or later. I promise,” Leroy added.
“What’s happening with the demonstrations?” I asked. “Is everything still under control?”
“No, it’s not. And that’s another reason I need to be there and not attending a fund raising event with a bunch of ‘stuffed shirts’. A fight broke out this morning, and I’ve got my deputies outside trying to keep peace. Chief Griggs also has a couple of his men there to help, but it could flare up at any time.”
“What happened?” I asked, signaling Nickie to freshen our drinks.
“White guys started cursing, and that just made the colored people from the ‘Nazarene Baptist Church’ sing louder. That eventually lead to rock throwing and finally one of them threw a punch. We’ve got him locked up, but it’s just a matter of time until something else happens.” Leroy was shaking his head.
“Was Reverend Jeremiah Higgs there?”
“Carson, I haven’t seen him since this started. I guess he is directing things from the Booker Motel, but I’m pretty sure you will see him Monday!”
“Monday, why do you say that?” I asked.
“Because they have applied for and have been issued a parade permit for Monday morning. They intend to march at 9:30 down Main Street to City Hall. I’ll be transferring Henry that morning; I have orders to have him in court at 10:00.”
“Shit!” I said out loud.
“Yes, I’ve said that many times today already,” Leroy sighed. “And unless you and Jack can come up with some good reason, Henry will be charged and bound over for trial. That means this thing could go on for months.”
“I’m afraid that is just exactly what will happen. Unless I find a miracle tonight or tomorrow, Jack has no choice but to plead him innocent and schedule a trial.” My disgust was showing.
“I’ve placed a call to Captain Chip Falstaff of the Tennessee Highway Patrol,” Leroy said sipping his drink. “Hopefully, he can spare a couple of troopers to help us with the parade and trouble if/when it breaks out.”
“You don’t have an answer?”
“No, not yet, but he is supposed to call me back this evening. Assuming I have anybody around to answer the phone when he calls! But, I expect he will send help, I know he understands the situation.”
“I’m sure he will,” I said finishing my drink. “I’ve got to go get dressed for the evening. Will you be here for a while?”
“Nope,” Leroy answered quickly. “I’m headed to get Sara and we’ll see you later at the Humboldt Country Club.”
~
I went to my cabin, took a quick shower, shaved and changed clothes for the evening. Forty-five minutes later, I was sitting on a barstool at the Humboldt Country Club in front of Nuddy ordering a drink.
Nuddy and I had just started catching up, when the downstairs bar opened and Mayor L.D. Newell entered. He waved at a few of the customers and walked directly up to where I was sitting.
“Good afternoon, Mayor,” I said. “May I buy you a drink?”
“Yes, Carson, thanks,” he said as he sat down on the stool next to me. “Nuddy knows my preference.”
Nuddy was already busy preparing the mayor’s favorite libation and he quickly sat it in front of Mayor L.D. Newell.
“How are things in Humboldt?” I asked as he took a sip.
“You know damn well how they are, Carson,” he said turning and speaking directly to me.
“Excuse me?” He had caught me off guard.
“If you think you are helping, you’re not. Go see your parents, have a drink with your friends, shack up with your girlfriend and then travel your ass back to Memphis. Your being here is just making things worse and you know it.” We were both looking directly at each other.
“I’m sorry Mayor, I don’t understand.” I was confused and intimidated by his comments.
“Go home, Carson. Let us deal with this situation without your interference. Everybody knows you’re here because of your friendship with Henry Walker. We’ve already had one incident with your partner getting shot, and if you stick around, there will certainly be more. Let our people handle it, and we’ll get this over with quickly and get this community back to normal.”
“Your people!” I challenged. “What ‘your people’ want to do is rush this thing through quickly and let the colored man pay for the crime – whether he did it or not! I’m not sure why ‘your people’ believe they can just ignore the truth just because it’s what the community wants. Damn the community, Mayor. A man’s life is at stake here, and just because he’s a colored man and just because the available evidence says he is guilty doesn’t necessarily make that true. I intend to be here until I’m convinced Henry Walker murdered that girl or I find the person who did. Evidently you, or some of ‘your people’, authorized a parade permit that will allow a ‘marching demonstration’ down Main Street on Monday morning. Either there is no clear-headed thinking or ‘your people’ are just too stupid to understand the implications. So, you can tell ‘your people’ that if they don’t like my being here, they know where to find me!” I was pissed.
Before Mayor Newell could respond, Mike Barker appeared and stepped between us. Mike was an alderman and had, obviously, overheard our conversation.
“You gentleman might want to reschedule your conversation for later. It is a little loud and not in the spirit of the evening,” he said quietly while patting us both on the back.
The mayor leaned back and started to speak again when the downstairs bar door opened and Elizabeth Teague made her entrance. Liz was famous for ‘entrances’ and she was very good at it. With a low cut black dress and high heels, she turned all heads and returned that favor with a wave and smile. She waved hello, hello to everyone as she walked directly up to the three of us at the bar.
“Mayor Newell, Mike Barker, how great it is to see you,” she said giving them both a gentle hug. “Thank you for coming and I know Mary Ellen is excited to have you here.”
“Our pleasure…” Mike started and was quickly interrupted.
“Oh, Carson,” Liz said giving me a more generous hug and ear nibble. “Please get me a glass of wine and bring it upstairs. Have you told Mike and the mayor about our train trip and catching the ‘bad guys’? I know they will love the story. Please excuse me, but I’ve got to see Mary Ellen before everything gets started. We can finish our conversation upstairs. It is so nice to see you again Mayor, and you too Mike.”
With that, she was gone!
Mike looked at me and laughed. “Carson, I’m sure that is quite a woman you have there, provided she ever slows down long enough for you to find out!”
We avoided the previous subject, and continued our three way general conversation while I waited on Nuddy to get Liz’s wine. Retrieving the wine, I excused myself and went up the stairs where I found our table. Jack Logan, Judy Strong, Mary Ellen Maxwell, Gerald Wayne, Leroy and, his wife, Sara had all gathered at a table close to the band. They had saved a seat for Liz and me.
Gerald Wayne was the President and CEO of Wayne Knitting, and Mary Ellen Maxwell was the owner of Maxwell Trucking. Gerald and Mary Ellen have been seeing a lot of each other since Mary Ellen’s husband’s untimely death. They, like Jack Logan and Judy Strong, had met during my recent investigation of a ‘Murder in Humboldt’.
A delicious roast for entrée and strawberry pie for desert followed appetizers, soup and salad. The band played soft music and we entertained ourselves with discussion on any subject except the current issues in Humboldt. I’m not sure Liz ate anything because she was constantly up and down and flitting across the room to ‘adorably’ ask one of the citizens for a generous check to support whatever charity Mary Ellen was promoting this week.
We had just ordered our after-dinner drinks, when the waiter came over to Leroy and whispered something. Leroy listened quietly then excused himself and made his way across the dining room and down the stairs toward the bar. Liz was still ‘working the room’, so I waited five minutes and followed Leroy’s path out of the dining area and down the stairs. I was curious, but also ready for one of Nuddy’s drinks instead of the colored water they were serving upstairs.
Nuddy had already delivered my Jack and Coke, when Leroy walked back into the bar and spotted me perched on a barstool. He stopped, while still holding the door, and motioned for me to join him outside. I gave Nuddy a wave, letting him know I would be returning to finish what he had started for me and to keep it fresh.
When I came out to find Leroy, he was standing just outside the door and talking with Humboldt Police Officer, Tony Bailey. I had worked with Tony in the past and knew he was a good guy and a good police officer.
“Tony,” Leroy said when I walked up. “Tell Carson what you just told me.”
“Hi, Carson. Sorry to spoil your fun, but I thought the sheriff needed to hear this,” he said apologizing.
“Tony,” I laughed. “We left the fun somewhere else, so please don’t apologize. Frankly, I’m glad to get away. So tell me, what’s this all about?”
“About four hours ago we found Yarnell Walker’s car abandoned out on the Humboldt Lake Road. The keys were in the ignition and the passenger door was standing open. It looked like there may have been a struggle, but we didn’t find any blood or anything like that.”
“What do you mean, ‘a struggle’?” I asked.
“The floor mats were all out of place and the passenger door standing open…I mean, I know how Yarnell cared about that car. He would never have left it sitting on the side of the road with the keys in it and the door open. It’s just not something he would have done, that’s what I mean.”
“Any damage to the vehicle that you noticed?” I asked.
“None, and that is one of the first things I looked for. I also checked to make sure it didn’t have any mechanical problem or if it was out of gas. It started with the first crank and had almost a full tank of gas – in fact, we drove it back to the office. That car has nothing wrong with it. For some reason, Yarnell left it sitting on the side of the road and then vanished.” Tony was shaking his head.
“I guess you’ve checked his house and his hangouts?” I asked.
“Of course,” Tony answered quickly. “They fired him at the Red Heart Dog Food Plant and he’s been hanging out at the poolroom and that corner grocery most of the time. But, nobody has seen him since around noon today. I was going to check with his sister, Colleen, but because of all the trouble, I wanted to check with Leroy first.” He looked at Leroy, “Leroy do you want me to go see her?”
“No,” I interrupted, “don’t do that. It will just upset her and that isn’t necessary. Besides, she’s got a house full of demonstrators that don’t need another excuse to make more noise.”
“I agree,” Leroy offered. “We’ll talk with her tomorrow. Meanwhile, you guys keep looking and make sure my deputies are aware of the situation.”
“Will do,” Tony said walking away. “You guys go back to your party.”
Leroy and I stood silently for a few moments before he looked at me and spoke. “I hope he’s just off drunk somewhere!”
“Me too, me too,” I repeated.
I finished my drink downstairs and topped it off with another before heading back upstairs to the dining area. The event was over and all the attendees were shaking hands and wondering if their checkbooks would ever look the same! Liz was still making her rounds, but had obviously seen too much of the bottom of her wineglass – she was loaded!
I gathered her up, and discretely escorted her out one of the upper doors and put her in the passenger seat of her car. While I wrestled with that 427 Corvette four-speed monster, she laid her head on my shoulder and began to purr. I was looking forward to a long evening, but Liz had other ideas.
“Carson,” she slurred.
“Yes, Liz. I am right here, driving you safely home.”
“I know and thank you so much. You do take very good care of me, but you know what?”
“No, dear. What?”
“When I’ve had too much to drink and we make love it’s like…it’s like going to the dentist,” she managed to say.
“Going to the dentist! What does that mean?”
“You know, like when they give you that Novocain and you know something is going on – but you just don’t know what it is!”
I put Liz safely in her bed and then drove her car back to Chiefs. There would be no scrambled eggs tonight.
~
A hard rain woke me early, and I was glad. Even though it was Sunday, I expected a full day and I would not be disappointed.
I had just finished Ronnie’s breakfast special and started on my second cup of coffee when Jack Logan walked in and took a seat at my table. He waited until Flo had delivered coffee before he spoke.
“Henry wants to talk,” Jack said stirring his coffee.
“Any idea about what?” I asked.
“Nope, none. He sent word that he wants to see me and you this morning and as soon as possible.”
“Well,” I said with a shrug. “Whatever it is will wait five more minutes. What’s happened with the ‘Protection Order’ you were looking for?”
“I have it, but it doesn’t mean much. It just instructs the restraining jurisdiction to provide extra protection because of possible danger to the inmate. In this instance, that applies to both the Sheriff’s Office and the Humboldt City Police. I’m not sure what good it will do, but at least I can wave the paper and make some noise.”
“I forgot to ask, why were you concerned about Henry being in custody of the City as opposed to being held in the County Jail?”
“Just a hunch, and because of some things Henry told me. Either from experience or from rumor, he believed some of the Humboldt City Police go ‘overboard’ with their handling of colo
red people, nothing other than that.”
“Did he specifically mention Carl Menard?” I asked.
“In fact, yes he did. And since I don’t know any of the other officers, I thought it best to keep him where he would be out of harms way – as best as possible,” Jack affirmed.
“Jack, I think they are mostly good guys, but one bad egg can ruin the carton and maybe Officer Carl Menard is that egg.”
“Maybe,” Jack said shaking his head.
“What’s up with this NAACP Lawyer, Benjamin Abernathy?” I asked.
“He’s listed as co-counsel and I have yet to even meet the bastard!” Jack protested. “He has signed his name to a dozen documents with objections, appeals, warrants and I have no idea what he is up to. He didn’t show for our scheduled Friday meeting and it will be interesting to see if he shows up in court tomorrow; because I intend to throw him under the bus – if you get my drift.”
“I do,” I laughed. “Maybe we can find some humor in this horror show!”
We finished our coffee and Jack followed me to Liz’s apartment to return her car. I would call her later and bring over some aspirin or Alka-Seltzer – maybe even a Bloody Mary! Then we picked up my car at the Humboldt Country Club and I drove to the Sheriff’s Office to meet with Jack and Henry.
The rain had gotten harder and I got soaked making the run from my car to the front door. Leroy wasn’t in and Scotty was manning the desk.
“Jeez, Carson. I’d think a guy of your wealth could afford an umbrella! You need to borrow mine?” Scotty was being cute.
“I’ve got one, but I keep it at home. That way it is always handy when I need it!” I sparked back.
“Good plan. Especially if it rains in your living room! I guess you’re here to see Henry. Here are the keys,” he said tossing them to Jack, “but I don’t think it’s locked.”
We walked up the stairs and found Henry sitting on his bunk. Somehow, he looked the same as I had last seen him, only different. Like he had something important on his mind and we were here to relieve that pressure.
The Crossing Page 12