Murder in Gatlinburg

by Steve Demaree

  42

  I left The Village shops with a couple of bags that didn't weigh much, turned right and walked down the hill. Lou had a smaller bag, filled with I don't know what. We didn't stick by each other's side the whole time we were in any shop. Just the ones that sold food. I trusted Lou, so I let him carry the cheese and donuts. Evidently he too had purchased some gifts, but none of them had him struggling so much he had to switch arms or drag the bag. I wondered which was stranger for me to have done, ridden a rollercoaster or enjoy shopping. A month earlier I never would have pictured myself doing either.

  When we arrived at our meeting place there were two vans left. One van had room for three people. None of the three people waiting in the van were on my suspect list, but I went undercover and checked out their purchases by looking at them sideways through my new sunglasses. None of the bags looked like they contained something that might go bang in the night, or something that could cut a hole in the bag or in any of the passengers. That made me feel a little better. I didn't want someone to provide me with another orifice. I was also curious as to whether or not any of my suspects purchased toe socks. Somehow I didn't think so. They didn't look like toe sock kind of people, but then Lou and I weren't toe sock kind of people either, and might not be again once we've left the mountain air behind. I had hidden my toe sock purchases inside the Day Hiker bags.

  I felt good as I waited for our final companion until that companion arrived and it turned out to be Max Huffington. I had pictured him as a first van out sort of person. I wondered if during his wanderings he had purchased an I Love Gatlinburg tattoo. I wasn't about to ask him. I realized that the only vacant seat was the one behind me. Max got in the van without saying anything to anyone, if you didn't count his grunt when our driver welcomed him. I saw that he clutched a bag that said The Donut Friar. It was a big bag. He must have purchased a lot. I wondered if inside that big bag he had a bag that read The Sock Shop, getting all greasy on the outside. As I thought about that, I gulped. Could it be that en route I would get strangled by a rainbow-colored toe sock after he removed it from the neck of his seatmate?

  For years, as we worked one case after another, Lou and I had each other's back. I was hoping that for a short time Lou had my neck.

  Max Huffington didn't close the door when he got in. That left it up to me to do so. As I leaned over to do just that, my packages fell to the floor and toe socks flew everywhere. All I could do was pick them up, smile, and say, "My niece loves these things." After I said that, I looked at Lou and dared him to tell anyone I didn't have any nieces.

  As soon as I closed the door and picked up several pairs of socks, the driver took off and headed for our first stop on the eight-mile Craft Loop road.

  I was surprised when we got there. The Craft Loop road didn't consist of shop after shop, but several shops in a grouping of buildings with a parking lot out front, followed by a drive to the next group of shops a short distance down the road. We already knew our agenda. The first six people back would get in the first van, and on and on until all vans and all shoppers had departed a certain area. I assumed that meant that when we got to the last stop, the last van to leave would be full of women.

  I had read the brochure and seen a short video telling me about the Craft Loop, but I still found it amazing watching one craftsman after another making their wares. From jewelry to stained glass, from wood to pottery, from brooms to paintings, I was amazed as I stood there watching person after person in shop after shop do something I couldn't do. I wasn't a typical male. I was fascinated. In the first grouping of shops I found a jewelry shop that displayed items that I thought Jennifer would love. I bought her a matching set that included a ring, earrings, and a necklace. I left the bracelet, because Jennifer doesn't like something sliding up and down her arm. Well, nothing but my fingers. I didn't know how the toe socks and T-shirt would grab her, but I felt that the jewelry I bought her might make up for me being away for a week. She had recently moved to Hilldale, so both of us were sorry that I was leaving not long after she moved to be near me. But she would be with her cousin Thelma Lou while Lou and I were gone.

  I spent quite a chunk of change on Jennifer, so I think Lou felt he needed to do the same for Thelma Lou. Both of us spent more in that one shop than we had spent on our entire trip up to that point, and we had been in the area for six days.

  After we checked out each of the first grouping of shops, we headed to a van that was looking for four more people. The two women already seated turned and asked us what we had bought. I took that to mean what had we bought last, so I refrained from showing them my toe sock collection. Lou and I showed them the jewelry and told them that it was for our girlfriends back home, who couldn't make the trip with us. Of course they told us how much the girls would like what we bought them.

  We stopped at two more clusters of shops, but Lou and I didn't spend as much time at either place. I was getting hungry, and we knew that our next stop was The Fox and Parrot English Pub, which meant lunch. I chowed down on bangers and mash, which was British for sausages and mashed potatoes.

  Our drivers had been told that we must all leave the Craft Loop by 4:00, in order to get to enjoy the scenic views on the Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail. When we got to the nature trail, if we discounted our mode of transportation, it felt like we had been transported back in time two hundred years.

  The one way road was too narrow for a bus or motor home, and had a speed limit of 15 m.p.h., but most of the time we didn't go that fast. In many places the trees grew up to the road. Other places we could see log cabins, waterfalls, flora and fauna. We stopped twice. Once to check out flowing water, another time to walk back to a cabin, if we were so inclined. At one stop we were told that we just missed a couple of bear cubs. That meant we just missed mama bear too, and her main concern wouldn't be if someone had eaten part of her porridge.

  When we stopped at the cabin, Sylvia was there, and when she saw Lou and me, she ran up to us.

  "I think I just saw Inez."

  "Where?"

  "Some woman ran behind that cabin when we pulled up, and while I just got a glimpse of her, she sure looked like Inez."

  "How would Inez have gotten out here? She didn't leave with us today."

  Sylvia didn't have a chance to answer me, because we both caught some movement out of the corner of our eye. I looked up and Max Huffington stepped out from behind the cabin. That was enough for me to check out Sylvia's call for help. Lou went around one side of the cabin. I went around the other. Naturally I got stuck with Max's side of the cabin. He wasn't going to step aside. As a matter of fact, he hightailed it to a van that was just getting ready to leave.

  Just as Lou and I got to the back of the cabin, our driver hollered to us that we needed to leave. I spotted a piece of fabric caught on a tree, but a quick perusal of the place didn't turn up a human being. I left the fabric where it was in case some woman stopped by and felt it matched something she owned.

  43

  Our last dinner in the Smokies was to be at the Park Grill, another nice-looking structure made of wood and glass. I passed on an appetizer, but tried a cup of shrimp and crab bisque before checking out the salad bar, which included smoked oysters. I topped off my meal with chocolate hazelnut mousse for dessert. Lou chose the Jack Daniels crème brulee.

  Only the good food kept my mind away from who wasn't eating with us. Max, who had beat a hasty retreat from the cabin, and Jack Ripatoe, who more than likely had beaten someone behind a cabin at some point in his life, had chosen to dine somewhere else. Angel was missing as well. I wondered if all of them would join us the next morning when we were to board a bus for some fun in Pigeon Forge, and then the trip home.

  +++

  Nothing happened on our trip back to Westgate, but I couldn't help thinking about those who were missing; Inez, Max, Jack, and Angel. Was the fact they were missing because they were dead, they were running, or was it merely a coincidence? I thought of calling Lt
. Curlee, but I figured I would have a greater chance of returning home if I gave up thinking about who had killed whom. I was sure he would have more interest in seeing my toe sock collection and inquiring about the health of my niece.

  +++

  We arrived back at Fort Westgate shortly before 8:00. We had been told that everyone checking out of the resort must be checked out by 10:00, and that we would not be the last to do so. Even though we had an early wake-up call the next morning, I spent some time in my room reflecting upon what had happened over the previous seven days. Well, the parts that didn't include murder. I had done things that had been unfamiliar to me. Took a vacation. Visited an amusement park and had even ridden the rollercoasters. Went shopping for something other than food and books, and enjoyed it. Played miniature golf. Visited a house of mirrors, and a haunted house of sorts. Was retirement starting to change me? If so, did I welcome the changes? How soon before I would be ready to take another vacation? I had enough money that I could go whenever I wanted, as long as I stuck to a budget. And so could Lou. If I went somewhere, would it be back to Gatlinburg or somewhere else? And if I went, would I go by myself, travel with Lou again, or take Jennifer? I knew that if my plans included Jennifer, that we would be getting separate rooms. I'm too much of a gentleman and she's too much of a lady to insist on anything else. Things might have changed for some people, and some things might be changing in my life, but not that one. I would still use the Bible as my roadmap for living. Oh, I would still mess up, like the bad thoughts I always have about my next-door neighbor, and a few other things where I wouldn't do what Jesus would do. But then one of us isn't perfect. Just trying to improve each and every day. I was sure Lou and I would talk about our vacation and the road ahead after we picked up Lightning and headed back to Hilldale from Lexington. But our thoughts had always been similar, and I figured the vacation and retirement had affected both of us the same. But our little talk was still twenty-four hours away. And right then it was time for me to go to bed. My last night in the more than comfy king-size bed. Did I like the large bed so much that I would spring for one when I got home? Probably not, but when it came time to buy another bed I might look at the king-size variety, even though I'm not as king-size as I used to be.

  +++

  Maybe it was the anxiousness of knowing in a few hours Lou and I would be leaving our vacation paradise and heading home, but I woke up in the middle of the night and had to go to the bathroom. On my way back to bed the toes on my right foot found the bottom of the bedpost and I hopped on one foot until I could fall into the bed. Once there, and still in pain, I contemplated whether on my next vacation I would bring glow-in-the-dark tennis balls on wires or wear steel-toed shoes to bed. Or I could take battery-powered night lights to place on the floor at every dangerous intersection

  44

  I woke up Friday morning and lay there a few minutes. As usual, the sun got up before I did. No one could see in so I never made it a point to pull the blinds on the back side of my suite. I stepped out onto the balcony, leaned over to make sure I was quite alone. I was going to miss this place. Oh, not enough to move to Tennessee, but enough to make sure I came back before I forgot what it was like.

  After a few minutes I looked at my watch. It was time to shower, spend a few minutes with God, and finish packing. Once I had done that and checked with Lou to see if he was ready, I called and explained that we had come on a tour bus, and asked for some assistance in getting my things down to the bus. I was told that someone would be up in a few minutes, and I said that I would wait out front.

  For a change I walked out the door before Lou and started down the steps to the parking lot. It was only fitting that I went down first. On my way down the steps I almost tripped when I looked down and saw Lt. Curlee down at the bottom, standing in front of his car, waiting for me. Surely he didn't have more questions for me, or think that I had interfered with his investigation. Maybe he wanted my help. But it was too late for that. I would soon be on my way home. At least I hoped I would soon be on my way home. And I hoped he hadn't come after my donuts. I did have a few left.

  "So, Lieutenant, what brings you here to see me off? I haven't been meddling."

  "No, I think you've been good for the most part. At least I didn't receive any calls from a murderer telling me that you were pestering him or her to death. Although I do suspect that while I had my back turned you stepped out of the circle once or twice."

  "Maybe I just thought about stepping out of the circle. So what brings you to see me? A job offer? If so, I want you to know that I'm happy being retired."

  "Well, that remains to be seen. You haven't been retired long enough. Your chief said there haven't been any murders in your burg since you retired. Wait until the first murder and then see how you feel."

  "You might be right there. I guess as soon as I hear there has been a murder I need to head on vacation and hope no one is murdered while I'm there."

  "Well, murder is why I'm here. I thought you might want to know that we caught the murderer last night."

  "Really? Who was it?"

  "Any idea?"

  "You wouldn't let me get close enough to solve it."

  "Just guess."

  "Oh, I don't know. The bus driver."

  "How did you guess?"

  "What are you talking about, how did I guess? I just said that because I knew the bus driver was the first one murdered. Well, maybe Miss Friendly, I mean Miss Trueblood was murdered first."

  "No, you're right. The bus driver was the first one murdered."

  "So, who did it?"

  "A guy by the name of Reid Chumbley."

  "Who in the world is that?"

  "The bus driver."

  "But the bus driver was the first one murdered, and his name was Earl something or other."

  "That's right."

  "Are you trying to tell me that Harlan's real name is Reid Chumbley?"

  "No."

  "But you said the bus driver did it. We only had two bus drivers."

  "I know."

  "But you said the bus driver did it."

  "He did."

  "You mean it was a suicide and he shut himself in that crate underneath the bus?"

  "No. He was murdered."

  "Who was murdered?"

  "Earl. The bus driver."

  "And who murdered him?"

  "Weren't you listening? Reid Chumbley."

  Lt. Curlee was having fun playing with me, and he couldn't hold it in anymore. He starting laughing so hard he started shaking.

  "So, who is Reid Chumley?"

  "The murderer. But he was the bus driver, too."

  "Oh, you mean he used to drive a bus?"

  "That's right."

  "Then how would I know him?"

  "You rode down here with him."

  "Oh, you mean he was one of the other members of our tour group. Which one?"

  "The bus driver."

  "Are we back to that again?"

  "We are."

  "And he was on our bus?"

  "He was."

  "So, he was one of the passengers?"

  "No. I told you he drove the bus."

  I wondered how long they would send me away if I choked a cop. I was too scared to find out.

  "Let's try this again. Earl drove the bus."

  "No, Reid Chumbley drove the bus."

  "I don't understand."

  "Earl was already dead and inside the crate where he kept his belongings."

  "And Reid Chumbley pretended to be Earl?"

  "Now, you got it. It takes you a while, but sooner or later you come around."

  "And you caught him?"

  "And he confessed."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah, he knew we had him dead to rights. See, he was really a hired killer sent down here by Inez Weddle's husband to kill her. He made a trial run a few weeks ago on Earl's bus, found out what all the bus driver did and learned the route. So, he shows up, kills Earl, and dumps him
in the luggage compartment. It all worked because he was the same size as Earl and Earl brought some spare uniforms on the trip. But it took him a little longer than he thought to drag Earl out of the bus and hide him, so he almost got caught by Agnes Trueblood. He wasn't sure whether she saw him dispose of the body or not, so he had to make sure she was out of the way. He kept a close eye on her whenever he could, and after everyone returned from Dixie Stampede on Friday night he knocked on her door, knocked her out when she answered it, dragged her back inside, and eventually threw her over the balcony."

  "So, Inez is dead, too?"

  "No, Inez, was how we caught him, and it was pure luck. One of our officers, Officer Durst, was making his rounds, driving down a mountain road, when he rounded a curve and saw a man chasing a woman across the road. The man chased her through the woods and Durst gave chase. Chumbley turned and fired at Durst, and he returned fire and nipped him in the leg. It caused Chumbley to trip and fall and Durst caught up with him. Once Inez Weddle saw that the officer had cuffed him, she came running back and gave him the story as she knew it. She recognized him as the man who drove the bus to Gatlinburg and told Durst we should check him out, that he might be a hit man hired by her husband. At that point Chumbley confessed. He knew that he would be found out as soon as they checked out his picture and prints."

  "And what happened to Inez?"

  "She's at an undisclosed location until her husband is out of the way. We've contacted the police in Kentucky and they are paying him a visit. They plan to pick him up and hold him as long as possible."

  "And none of these suspicious people traveling with me are guilty of anything?"

  "I don't know about that, but I think our guy acted alone. That's the way he worked in the past."