Fogbound: A Lin Hanna Mystery

by Sharon Canipe

  Chapter 14

  The next morning they woke to beautiful blue skies and only a few puffy white clouds in the distance. Sue was already dressed for work when Lin and Neal appeared in the kitchen.

  “Enjoy your morning,” she told them, “it should be pretty all day according to Ray’s Weather. Tonight might be a different story though; a cool front is coming through, so no promises for tomorrow it seems.”

  “In other words, play outside while you can,” Lin smiled, “typical mountain weather.”

  They made plans to meet Sue back at the house shortly after noon. “Don’t eat lunch,” Sue instructed. “I have an idea for that.”

  After Sue left for work, Lin toasted a couple of bagels for breakfast. Sue had already made a fresh pot of coffee. Lin and Neal decided to take their breakfast outside on the front porch to enjoy the beautiful morning. Neal was struck by the damage to the front door.

  “That’s scary. What if you’d come to the door, opened it when you heard something,” Neal shook his head in dismay.

  “True,” Lin replied, “it was scary, but, after receiving threats earlier, neither of us is likely to open that door unless we are absolutely sure of who’s on the other side. I think Sue’s lined someone up to repair the damage; of course we’ll replace the pottery that was broken also.”

  “Dangerous tenants,” Neal grinned. “I’d evict you, I think.”

  They enjoyed their breakfast but didn’t linger. The morning was too lovely to waste. Soon they were on their way, entering the Parkway at the small entrance near the house and deciding to head north.

  “This may sound strange,” Neal said, “but I’d like to see the place where the two of you found Ellie Clark. You’ve told me what happened, but I’d like to see the actual ‘scene of the crime.’ ”

  “It’s not far,” Lin replied. “After that we can take a nice short hike at the Cascades. I can show you the locations where some of those unsolved crimes Sue’s been researching occurred, if you’d like. They’re all within a fairly compact area.”

  “OK then, a crime scene tour,” Neal teased, “everyone’s favorite vacation.”

  Lin slapped at him playfully, “Only if you’re interested. We might not have time to do them all this morning. Actually, the route is very scenic so there’s a lot more to see along the way.”

  “I’m teasing,” Neal said, “actually, I’m really interested in what Sue has learned—seriously. She’s a smart person with good insights, and I would give her opinions fair consideration if I were an investigator.”

  “I agree,” Lin said. “Sue does her homework and doesn’t jump to conclusions without some good evidence.”

  They proceeded on their way and stopped at the overlook near Deep Gap where Ellie and Pete had been shot. Lin walked Neal around the area, pointing out where the drop off was, where Ellie had been found, all of the elements of the scene. She noted with interest that there was no crime scene tape visible. Evidently the sheriff’s department was finished with their investigation of this place. Lin made a mental note to call Dave Winkler sometime during the week. She wanted to be kept up to date with what was going on. Besides, Winkler hadn’t yet shared the results of his contact with the Hinsons following the most recent incident at their house.

  Their next stop was Jeffress Park where Lin pointed out the place where the park ranger had been shot a couple of years ago. Neal couldn’t believe that no one had been able to identify the shooter.

  “I guess he’s sort of like a ghost,” Lin said. “Now you see him, now you don’t. Evidently no one got a really good look at him.”

  It was much drier today on the trail leading to the falls. Neal loved the solitude they found on their walk. As luck would have it, no one else was on the trail this early in the day. They meandered along, stopping to look at wildflowers and listen to the sounds of the water in the distance. They took in both the higher and lower views of the rushing water. Neal had brought a small camera so they snapped pictures of each other with the water spraying in the background. When they’d climbed back up both sets of steps, Neal pointed to a log bench beside the trail. “Put here for a good reason,” he announced as he sat down. “I really need to do more hiking. I’ve been tied up with work so long, I’ve almost forgotten how much I enjoy hiking for pleasure and exercise.”

  Lin nestled in beside him. He put his arm around her and gently kissed the top of her head. “A beautiful spot and a beautiful woman, can’t beat that.”

  “There are lots of good hiking trails all along the Parkway,” Lin informed him. “You should look for one of those books that locate and describe them. We sell them at the visitor center, but I’m sure other stores do also. Once I go back to a regular work schedule, you’ll need something to do. You could do some hiking then.”

  “I just might do that,” Neal remarked. They rested for a few moments listening to the sounds of the woods around them before resuming their walk back up to the parking lot.

  From there, Lin stopped near the marker that told the story of Tom Dula and his killing of his pregnant girl friend after the Civil War. “So that song tells a real story,” Neal remarked, “but that crime wasn’t unsolved.”

  “No, but the body of the girl whose mother we’re going to visit this afternoon was found near here. She was also pregnant, and no one has ever been arrested in that case. Sue was struck by the similarity to the Dula story,” Lin explained. “That, in fact, was the first crime she was investigating. She discovered the other unsolved cases in the course of doing research for that one.”

  “I can see why she’s so interested,” Neal said. “It should make for good reading, a great book—if she can find some answers.”

  Lin noticed that their time was growing short, and she was really thankful. The next nearby scene was the place where she and Sue had encountered Eustace Hinson. It was the only part of their experiences she hadn’t yet shared with Neal in their phone conversations. She wasn’t yet ready to discuss her panic attack, and she certainly didn’t want to revisit the place where it had occurred, not yet anyway.

  “We’d better head back home,” she said. “Sue may even beat us there.”

  As they drove back to meet Sue, Neal and Lin talked about plans for the time they had available before Lin returned to work on the weekend.

  “The weather may be nasty tomorrow,” Lin noted, “but if it’s not too bad we could take a longer drive, perhaps up to Virginia or south to Mt. Mitchell?”

  “Either would be great, and don’t forget, I’ll be staying for awhile, and what we don’t do now we can plan for another of your days off. As for it raining tomorrow, that’s not a problem at all—I have lots of good ideas for just such an occasion,” Neal reached over and squeezed her thigh, a playful grin on his face.

  Sue was already home and was upstairs changing when they arrived. Lin decided to switch to different shoes so she went upstairs also. “How was your morning?” Sue called from her bedroom.

  “Really good,” Lin replied. “Neal was interested, so we did the ‘crime scene’ tour, except not the last place—we didn’t have time.” Sue stood at the door and looked at Lin with understanding. “Not yet ready to see that place again?”

  Lin nodded, “Not yet, I’ve not told Neal about how I felt that day, but I’m happy to report that it hasn’t happened again. I thought it might recur when our intruder shot at the door. I felt some of the same symptoms begin, but that time I was able to keep them at bay. I was scared alright but not paralyzed.”

  “I know,” Sue responded, “I could tell. I think the yoga is helping you to relax and cope with your normal stresses. Hopefully, it will never happen to you again.”

  “My sentiments exactly,” Lin replied, “ and I want to go back to that place sometime soon, but I didn’t feel quite ready today—besides we really didn’t have time…”

  “…and you really don’t want to talk to Neal about this do you?”

  “Not yet, not yet,” Lin was definitely
not ready for that.

  Just then they heard him call upstairs, “I’m getting hungry so you two need to hurry up and get down here.”

  “On our way,” Lin called back as she grabbed her bag.

  ***

  The house they were seeking was a small, neat white frame farmhouse nestled down in the woods not far from the banks of the Watauga River. There was a large vegetable garden on one side and beds of colorful flowers all around the house.

  “The mother’s name is Mildred Fletcher,” Sue told them as she pulled into the graveled parking area in front of the home. “Her daughter, the victim in this case, was called Sara. She was only 17 when she died.”

  Lin and Neal waited in the car while Sue went to the door. A small gray-haired woman in a neat old-fashioned print housedress opened it. They couldn’t tell what Sue was saying, but in a few moments, they saw Ms. Fletcher nod and open the door wider. Sue signaled them to follow her inside.

  The living room reminded Lin of childhood visits to her grandmother’s rural home. The room was small and seemed fairly bursting with furniture. The backs of the chairs and the sofa were covered with white crocheted doilies stiffly starched. Similar lace-like doilies covered each table top and were, in turn, covered with various “what-nots”—small porcelain figurines and pill boxes, framed pictures depicting family members, and so on. Lin’s gaze fell on one table in particular that held several framed pictures of a lovely dark-haired girl at various ages. That must be Sara she mused, thinking how sad Ms. Fletcher must still feel.

  Their hostess was most cordial, not at all standoffish as Lin had thought she might be. She asked them to be seated while she went back to the kitchen, emerging later with a pitcher of sweet iced tea and four glasses. Although Lin really was not overly fond of that traditional southern drink, she accepted the glass graciously when it was offered. Neal and Sue did the same.

  “So you’re here to talk about Sara,” Mildred Fletcher said as she sat down and placed her own glass of tea on the table beside her.

  “I’m looking into some old unsolved cases around here. I may write a book about some of them,” Sue said honestly. “Sara’s case caught my interest because of where she was found and…”

  “The fact that she was with child when she was kilt,” Mildred Fletcher spoke solemnly but matter-of-factly without a trace of tears. “Just like that poor girl Tom Dula kilt more’n a hunert year ago.”

  Sue nodded her agreement, “It seems a strange coincidence to me, the place, her condition, but it’s different too. Her killer is still free. Can you tell me what might’ve happened, from your point of view that is?”

  “Dunna know what happened, no one does fur shor,” Mildred continued, “sheriff was pretty shor her boyfriend did it, but Sara tole me they’s gettin’ married jus’ the week fore they found her body up there. I never did believe Luke done it. He was a sweet boy. I think he loved Sara and wanted to marry her, but his family wouldn’t hear of it. They tried to keep him away, but he kept comin’ back. He couldn’t ‘ave done it. Not him. No way.”

  “Could you tell me Luke’s last name, Ms. Fletcher,” Sue pressed on, “does he still live around here?”

  “Luke Taylor, that’s his name. Still lives here so’fur as I know. Hain’t seen him since Sara was kilt though. Luke, he’s an orphan—course he growed up now—his Daddy run off right after he’s born and his mother died when he’s ‘bout ten. His Granpappy raised him. Guess he still lives with’em. Least-wise he was the last I heard ‘bout him.”

  “Do you know how I might find him?” Sue asked. “I’d like to hear his side of this story.”

  Mildred Fletcher sat silent for a few moments before speaking. She turned to Sue, “I’d steer clear of those folks if I’se you. Luke’s Granpappy can get pretty mean and his folks don’t much like outsiders. I guess he’s still with ‘em over by Meat Camp. Still livin’ with old Eustace. Eustace Hinson. Like I said. He’s a mean’un. Stay ‘way from him.”

  Lin was stunned by what she’d just heard. She caught Sue’s eye, realizing that she too was shocked that this possible connection had been revealed. Lin couldn’t think of anything to say, but Sue kept her cool, reporter’s demeanor.

  “Ms. Fletcher, if you had to hazard a guess as to who was responsible for Sara’s death, what would you say? If you don’t think Luke killed her then who did?”

  Mildred Fletcher sat back in her chair. She seemed to be thinking. “I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout evidence and proof and all that,” she ventured, “but I do know what my heart tells me. I think old Eustace probably kilt my girl—to keep her from Luke. Keep her away forever.”

  ***

  No one said anything as they returned to their car and drove back toward Broadstone Road. It was almost one-thirty and they’d still not had any lunch. Sue turned toward the Mast Store.

  “We can visit the old store after we eat something. I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving. We can talk about what just happened back there while we eat.” Sue pulled into a gravel driveway directly across from the Mast General Store that led up toward a two story white frame house with a wide front porch.

  “I read about this place the other day, while you two were still in Davidson, and decided it might be fun to try it. It’s called the 1861 Farmhouse. The building is historic. The owners restored it a few years ago and turned it into a restaurant and wine tasting room. Should be fun and the food gets great reviews.” Sue told them.

  The day was still nice, so they elected to sit on the porch. Their server brought them Mason jars filled with water; they’d had enough sweet tea for one day. The menu listed several delicious sandwiches and salads, but Lin encouraged Sue and Neal to try either the southern barbecue or, better still, the pimento cheese with applewood bacon and fresh veggies. “You simply have to try pimento cheese sometime while you’re here,” she argued. “It’s a true southern delicacy and every well brought up southern girl learns how to make it.”

  “And what about my well brought up southern girl?” Neal teased.

  “Absolutely, I learned from my mother. I’ll make some while you’re here, but meanwhile this sandwich sounds great.”

  Lin herself ordered the pimento cheese, as did Neal, but Sue opted for the barbecue promising to try the delicacy later when Lin made it. Conversation lagged while they all dug into their food. Everyone was really hungry.

  Finally, Lin pushed her own plate back from the table’s edge. “You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when Mildred identified Sara’s boyfriend,” she said.

  “Indeed, me too,” Sue responded. “I was also troubled by what she said regarding Eustace Hinson. I thought about all those killings Eustace supposedly confessed to, only to deny them later.”

  “Dementia is such a puzzling condition,” Neal said. “I suppose it’s almost impossible to determine when someone with dementia is telling the truth unless there is other evidence also.” Lin had shared with him the ups and downs of Eustace’s arrest and later release following his competency hearing. Now she was having uncomfortable thoughts of her own.

  “ You know, Sue, I think we might need to talk to Dave Winkler again. We still haven’t heard from him regarding what he might have learned from the Hinsons after we told him about our encounter with Eustace.”

  Neal interrupted, “What encounter? I don’t remember your mentioning anything after he was released to the care of his sons.”

  Sue started to speak, but Lin signaled that she wanted to tell this story. She described their walk in the woods when Eustace “ordered” them off his land. “We didn’t report it at the time, because he was unarmed, he did nothing to actually hurt us, and we knew his condition. We weren’t really in any danger from him,” she said. “We did tell Deputy Winkler about the incident when he came to investigate the shooting at our front door last week. He was going to talk to the Hinsons, but we haven’t yet heard what he might’ve learned. I didn’t tell you about this before, Neal, because I had a strange
reaction to the incident myself.” She continued, describing her panicky reaction—her almost paralyzing fear.

  “I was going to tell you about it, but I didn’t feel quite ready to talk about it yet. Sue has been helping me with relaxation strategies, and I’ve begun practicing yoga again. It seems to be working; I’ve not had another experience like that, not even when our intruder shot at the front door. After hearing what Mildred Fletcher said this morning, I decided it was time to talk to Deputy Winkler again and time for me to talk about how I felt, also.”

  Neal reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thanks for telling me. I agree that you should talk to the deputy again and also report what Mrs. Fletcher said, although she probably told that to the sheriff years ago. I’m glad you haven’t experienced anything like that again, and I hope you never do.” He left his hand atop hers.

  “I hope so too, and I’m going to keep working on the relaxation strategies and the yoga. Sue convinced me that I’ve had a lot of stress in my life this past year—a lot of changes.”

  “You’ve certainly had more than your share, I’d imagine,” Neal said, “but I hope your relationship with me hasn’t contributed to the problem.”

  “No, that’s the good part of all that’s happened,” Lin hastened to reassure him, “ but you have to admit that falling in love and deciding to get married is a pretty major life change—for both of us.”

  Neal was forced to admit that was true. “I realize that even good changes lead to stress in our lives, but I hope having me in your life makes it easier to deal with other things. I know that’s true for me where you’re concerned.”

  Sue interrupted almost giggling, “OK, you two. I think we can all agree you’re good for each other, but we need to decide what steps to take now. What are we going to do next?”

  Neal looked at his watch. “It’s after three now. I suggest that you call the Sheriff’s office and see if you can talk to this Deputy Winkler, or somebody, as soon as possible. You need to find out if he’s learned anything about your intruder.”