The Cast Net

by Mille West

  Mills shook his hand and then showed him the drawing she wanted to use for the invitations and media items. He looked at her artwork for a few moments before saying, “This is quite good, and I believe we’ll have no trouble getting this scaled for the invitations and anything else you’d like to do. Cooper mentioned that he’d like for us to do a business card for you. Also, if you’d like, we can do a few larger displays.”

  Mills showed him a write-up she had done concerning the Heath Foundation, and Mr. Collins said he’d immediately start work on it.

  “I know that Cooper needs the invitations quickly, so I’ll have a preliminary example by tomorrow afternoon. Come by at three o’clock.”

  After departing the printer’s shop, her first stop was the Low Country Gourmet, the flagship store of a chain of gourmet stores in the southeast. Cooper had told her that the owners, Ford Butler and his wife Melea, were active philanthropists in the Charleston community and should be interested in helping the Heath Foundation.

  As she entered the store, she inhaled the aromas of fresh ground coffee and baked bread. Smells wonderful. She asked to speak to Mr. and Mrs. Butler, and a tall man with deep brown skin emerged from the rear of the store, accompanied by his wife. Mills introduced herself and explained that she worked for an educational foundation to help disadvantaged youths in the Charleston area.

  “How can we help you?” he asked.

  “I would like to place a display about the foundation in your local stores to give exposure to the scholarship program.”

  “Miss Taylor, we’ll be happy to help you. I believe in helping others as much as I can. I think we can arrange a donation for you too. When you have the display ready, bring it by the store and I’ll take a look at it.”

  He accompanied her to the front of the business and introduced her to a slight-framed man with thinning, sandy-colored hair.

  “Miss Taylor, I’d like to introduce you to the manager of this store, Paul Westmore.”

  Paul took her hand and smiled. “Oh, my God, Audrey Hepburn, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Mills felt her face flush with his comment and she shook his hand enthusiastically while Mr. Butler explained to him that she represented an educational foundation. Before she left the store, both men told her to come back as soon as she had her display ready.

  Uplifted by her first experience, she went to the next business on her list, which was a law firm with the contact name of Hamilton Bentley. Mills asked the receptionist if she could make an appointment, but after the receptionist called his office, she was informed that he would see her immediately.

  When Mr. Bentley came downstairs, Mills saw that he was in his late thirties with a trim build, wearing a tailored and probably very expensive business suit. They exchanged greetings and Mills told him who she was and why she had come to see him.

  Mr. Bentley waggled a finger at her. “Miss Taylor, we have a no-solicitation policy at this firm. Didn’t you see the sign on the door?”

  Taken aback, Mills began to stammer a polite apology, but Mr. Bentley interrupted her.

  “So, you’re working with Cooper Heath. What do you know about him anyway? I watch the property transfers, and I know he’s accumulating significant land holdings in the Low Country. Tell that land baron to take the funding for his educational foundation out of his own bank account!”

  That was enough for Mills and she stood up to leave. “Mr. Heath is a generous person, and I think very highly of him.”

  Mr. Bentley gave out a hearty laugh and gestured for her to remain.

  “Miss Taylor, please sit down, I’m just giving you the run around. I’m an old acquaintance of the Heath family and I’d like to hear about your program—I’ll tell you what, if you’ve got time, I was just about to walk down the street for lunch. If you’ll accompany me, I’d like to hear about the foundation.”

  Mills laughed, mostly in relief, but also in wondering if he pulled these pranks in the courtroom. She agreed to accompany him to the restaurant. After she gave details about the educational program, he asked, “May I call you Mills?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  “Call me Hamilton. Now, I went to school with Cooper, his brother Beau, his cousin Jeff, and their friend, Britton Smith. Have you met Jeff and Britton?”

  “Yes, I have.”

  “I was in the same class with Beau and Britton. Beau . . . tragic thing about him and his father; both of them drowned.”

  Shocked, she admitted, “I didn’t know that. I only knew that Beau had passed away a long time ago.”

  “It was the summer right after we graduated from high school. Beau had been accepted to the United States Naval Academy and, for a graduation present, Mr. Heath took Cooper, Beau, and Jeff to the Caribbean to go sailing. While they were off Eleuthera, a terrific storm came up. Their sailboat capsized in high waves, and Jeff was swept overboard without a life jacket. Cooper saved his life; he was only fifteen at the time but was already a strong athlete. Sadly, Mr. Heath and Beau were inside the cabin and could not be saved—terrible shame. After Cooper finished at the Air Force Academy, he was in the military for several years. He is a fine person, if he’s anything like he was at our college prep school, Porter-Gaud.”

  He paused for just a moment and then emphatically stated, “I don’t believe he had anything to do with his wife’s disappearance. This is the first time I’ve been contacted about the foundation, but I know that Cooper has an oyster roast at his Edisto property each February. It has turned into quite a social event and my partners and I would like to attend. If you’ll get us invitations to the oyster roast, I’ll work on getting a donation for your charity. It would be nice to see Cooper again. These days, I only read about him in the newspaper.”

  Cooper’s father and brother killed in a boating accident. He didn’t let on about their deaths. Terrible tragedy.

  After lunch, Mills made several more introductory business calls. Her last stop was at the Charleston daily newspaper, the Charleston Dispatch. Introducing herself to the receptionist, she explained that she was the director of the Heath Foundation and that she’d like to submit press releases on a regular basis to acquaint the public with their efforts to fund scholarships.

  “Miss Taylor, have a seat and I’ll call Mitch Key; he’s the editor of the Metropolitan section of the newspaper.”

  After several minutes, Mr. Key emerged from the newsroom, introduced himself, and invited her into his office. She walked through an area of desks to a private office and handed him a copy of a news release, which introduced herself as the new director of the foundation.

  After he read the document, he glanced up. “I’m familiar with Mr. Heath. Miss Taylor, I think you’ve covered what you needed to in the release, and I’ll be glad to help you. I went to college on an academic scholarship, so I know how important it is to have an opportunity to attend college, especially when one can’t afford it.”

  He placed her article on his desk and then acknowledged a tall, blond young man standing outside his door, dressed impeccably in a navy suit and red bow tie. Mr. Key motioned for him to come inside, and upon entering, the young man said, “Mr. Key, I’ve got the story on the Webb Pharmacy robbery—there’s quite a twis
t.” Suddenly noticing that his editor was not alone, he said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

  “That’s okay. Miss Taylor and I were almost finished with business. Miss Taylor, this is Lee Mencken. He’s one of our reporters and he does an outstanding job of uncovering the truth. Miss Taylor has just taken the directorship of the Heath Foundation—you know, headed by Cooper Heath.”

  Lee appeared to be about her age and he firmly shook her hand saying, “Yes, sir, I did know that Mr. Heath was funding scholarships for disadvantaged youths.” Looking curiously at Mills, he said, “I’ve become acquainted with Mr. Heath during the last six months. I hope that all goes well with your cause.”

  As Mills rose to leave, Mr. Key said, “Miss Taylor, stop by any time you have a news release for the Charleston Dispatch, and best of luck with the foundation.”

  As she left the newsroom, she noticed a pair of double doors outside the lobby labeled “Archives.” Mills approached the receptionist, asking her permission to look at past newspaper articles. After showing her how to access the microfilm, the receptionist left the room and Mills removed copies of the newspaper from the previous August at the time of Elise Heath’s disappearance. The first articles written about the case concentrated on the missing woman and efforts to find her. Within several days, however, there was a series of reports that detailed police searches at the properties of Cooper Heath. There was even a suggestion by one columnist that Cooper was out of jail due to his family’s wealth and influence. After two weeks, reports on the disappearance vanished from the front page and follow-up reporting on the case appeared in the midsection of the Metropolitan news. The last article that Mills read quoted Lieutenant Nathan Barnes with the Charleston County Police Department as saying, “The investigation is far from over.”

  There was one more event that Mills wanted to investigate. Returning the first set of microfilm to its archives, Mills found the records from the summer of 1969. She had calculated that would be the time of the boating accident off Eleuthera. As she scrolled through the microfilm, she came to the report on the deadly event. The report had originated from Nassau, Bahamas, and the caption read, “Boating Accident Claims Life of Charleston Shipping Executive.” Mills began to softly read out loud, “A series of freak waves struck the sailboat operated by Phillip B. Heath, Chief Executive Officer of Heath Brothers Shipping of Charleston, SC. Killed were Heath, 49, and son, Beau, 17—a younger son, Cooper Heath, 15, and relative, Jeff Radcliffe, 16, survived the accident. Cooper Heath is credited with saving the life of his cousin, Jeff Radcliffe, after the first catastrophic wave struck the sailboat.” Mills went on to review all of the continuing articles written about the accident. My God—what Cooper’s been through. She left the newspaper office stunned.

  Mills drove home to Edisto and walked to the riverfront, thinking of what she had learned during the day. There was no one at home but Cooper’s dog, Sam, who joined her. The evening sky had a beautiful red tint, and she stood at the dock, studying the marsh and wildlife until she felt chilled. Sam walked with her. Near her cottage, he abruptly stopped, ears perked up. Toward the end of the darkened lane near Cooper’s house, Mills saw a shape go around the corner of a group of camellia bushes. Sam started to bark and wanted to charge in the direction of the figure, but Mills grabbed his collar and kept him with her.

  “Stay with me Sam. I think you’d be a good protector.”

  She coaxed Sam into her cottage and locked her doors. She left the lights off inside her cottage and looked out the windows around the perimeter of her home, but she did not see anything else.

  Picking up the telephone, she called Cooper’s house. The phone rang, but the answering machine picked up. Sitting down on her bed, she took several breaths to calm herself. Probably someone finishing work on the farm.

  The following morning, when Mills picked up the Charleston Dispatch, she turned to the Metropolitan section of the paper. The section’s headline read, “Webb Pharmacy Robberies: Pharmacist to Face Charges.”

  As she read the article, written by the journalist she’d been introduced to, Lee Mencken, Mills was amazed to learn that the head pharmacist’s lover—they were gay—was blackmailing him over their relationship. The robberies had been staged to obtain opiate drugs.

  On the last page of the Metro section, she found the article about the Heath Foundation. Her release had been printed exactly as she had drafted it. Under her photograph was the caption, “Mills Taylor, Director of the Julia Heath Foundation.”

  At three o’clock, she stopped by Collins Printing; the proofs were ready for the invitations. The sketch had been reproduced flawlessly.

  “I’m going to be a little longer on the business cards, but here is an example of a larger display board.” He placed the exhibit on the counter and they both studied the work-up.

  Pleased with the results, Mills responded, “I’ll have Cooper take a look at this before you print the invitations.”

  “Just call me when you’re ready.”

  Mills left the print shop and made one more professional call downtown to deliver the display about the foundation to the Low Country Gourmet. As soon as she entered the shop, Paul called out to her, “Audrey, what do you have for me this afternoon?”

  Mills brought the board to him and Paul read over the information on the Heath Foundation. He placed her exhibit near the front counter. “There—that ought to get you noticed.”

  “Thank you, Paul.”

  “We told you we’d be glad to help. The Butlers aren’t here this afternoon, but I’ll show them this in the morning.”

  After leaving the Low Country Gourmet, she took a walk through the downtown and came upon a salmon-pink hotel on Meeting Street. It shared her name: The Mills House. Throughout the hotel lobby, she found the decorations to be quite elegant. At the rear of the lobby was a piano bar named The Barbadoes Room. The name seemed appropriate to her, as many of the original Charleston settlers had come from Barbados. She admired the exquisite furnishings and antique maps that adorned the lobby.

  When she exited the hotel onto Meeting Street, she found herself within a group of pedestrians preparing to cross the street. From about a half-block away, a voice called out to her, “Miss Taylor!”

  Turning to see who had called her, she recognized the man she had recently met at the Sea Island Yacht Club. He came forward and shook her hand. “Miss Taylor, I hope you remember me. I’m Joshua White. I’ve been in court, and I must have timed my departure perfectly as I’ve run into you. How about afternoon tea? I know just the place.”

  She agreed, and they walked to the Ocean Place Hotel. Entering an elegant tea room located in the hotel lobby, Joshua helped Mills with her chair, saying, “Have a seat, young lady. I want you to tell me about the job you’ve just started.”

  “I’m the director of the Julia Heath Foundation.” Noticing his frown, Mills asked, “Is something wrong?”

  “I know that you and I don’t know one another, but how much do you know about your employer, Cooper Heath? That’s who you’re working for, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, and I think very highly of him.”

  “His wife disappeared without a trace about six months ago. I know that every law enforcement agency, including the South Carolina State Law Enf
orcement Division, has been investigating her disappearance. He’s been taken in multiple times for questioning. He’s the prime suspect—I think his family’s influence has been able to keep him out of jail. I hate to see you involved with a potentially dangerous individual. He’s highly intelligent, and from what I’ve been told, a very cool customer. There hasn’t been an arrest—mainly, because the police haven’t been able to recover her body.”

  “Mr. White, I don’t believe he’s guilty of anything.”

  “Please, call me Joshua, and I don’t want to see you get hurt. If you find that your job isn’t working out as you’d like, I hope you’ll tell me. I have many contacts in the legal field that are always looking for hard-working individuals . . . I’ll stop, I see I’m ruining your tea. Tell me where you’re from and where you’ve been living.”

  When she returned home, Cooper was out in the fields on his tractor; he didn’t seem to notice her as she drove by. At dusk, she heard the tractor shut down, and she went to the rear courtyard of his home to wait for him. Several minutes later, he came up the lane toward home, with Sam right behind him.

  She called out to him, “Good evening, Cooper. I was hoping to show you the invitation to the oyster roast.”

  He slapped his pants and dust came off his thighs before he took a seat across from her.

  “I met with the owners of the Low Country Gourmet, Ford and Melea Butler, and they’re open to helping us. The manager of the King Street store, Paul, he’s a little different. He calls me Audrey Hepburn.”

  Cooper smiled at her. “I’m glad that you’re having success. I knew you would.”

  “I also went by one of the law firms that you had on the business contact list, and I met with Hamilton Bentley. He said that he had grown up with you and your brother.”