“What about now?” I said.
“What about what … now?” she said.
“What if I need something now?”
“Whattaya need?”
“Just a sit down with you about what you know and what you don’t know.”
“We can do that tomorrow morning on the way to the home. Won’t take long to tell you what I know.”
“What home would that be?” I said.
“The parents of the man who is missing.”
“And we’re going there because …?”
“They’re worried and he lived with them. I’m picking up rocks and looking underneath,” Starnes said. “I heard a fearless detective once say that.”
“Sounds like what I do every day when I’m working,” I said.
“It should. You’re the fearless detective I heard say it,” Starnes said.
“Who are you?” the voice said from the doorway.
I turned to see Starnes’ father standing just outside my room looking puzzled.
“I’m Clancy Evans,” I said.
“Is that your dog?” he asked as he pointed to Sam who was lying next to the bed.
“Yes. This is Sam. We’re here to help your daughter,” I said.
“Be stayin’ here long?”
“Daddy,” Starnes tried to interrupt him. “I invited them.”
“Don’t know how long I might be staying, Mr. Carver. You okay with that?” I said.
“If you’re a friend of Starnes, then you’re a friend of mine.”
I wanted to thank him, but he turned away quicker than I could find the words. He moved slowly back to his red chair in the living room in front of the television. Uganda was the focus of the news broadcast by this point.
“Some days are worse than others. Can’t hold onto short term memory for too long. You will have to introduce yourself a few more times. It may stick eventually. I hope it’s not a problem.”
“Nothing I can’t live with,” I said.
“See you in the morning,” Starnes said and left.
“Starnes,” her father called out as I was opening my suitcase to remove my pajamas. “There’s a stranger in our house. With a dog. Check on that.”
I smiled but it wasn’t because of any humor.
Chapter Five
After a light breakfast of toast, coffee and reintroducing myself to Spud Carver at least twice during the twenty-minute repast, Starnes, Sam, and I were on our way to the home of Adam and Evelyn Gosnell. They lived about as far away from anything resembling civilization as I could imagine. I thought that Spud Carver’s place was remote.
We drove a good forty-five minutes, mostly on a paved road, then drove another twenty minutes on a gravel road. This road turned into something akin to a wagon trail – two ruts that bordered a grassy center which had seen neither gravel nor anything else to forge a surface other than what Mother Nature had provided from the beginning of time. The amazing thing for me was that we were still in McAdams County. When the wagon trail ended, we parked the Jeep and walked what I imagined to be another mile to the Gosnells’ house. It was literally the last house on the right before you reached the end of the community called Spillcorn or the edge of the globe as we know it, whichever description you might prefer.
To its credit, the geography was breathtakingly beautiful. Picturesque. Pastoral. A long, long way from what I was accustomed to.
If anyone but Starnes Carver had been taking me on this expedition, I would have surely known them to be pulling a fast one long before we reached the walking portion. After we passed what I presumed to be the house of our destination, we walked on for another ten minutes before Starnes broke the silence.
“We’re goin’ to the edge, you know.”
“Of the known world?”
“Close. These are good folks, but they do live a ways from town.”
“You state the obvious.”
“I do.”
“They stay close to home during the winter.”
“If the snow’s not too deep, they walk to the paved road and hitch a ride with folks around. Not as isolated as it appears. You and I are just used to the city.”
“So who’s missing?”
“Abelard Justin Gosnell. He’s the youngest son of two born to Adam and Evelyn. They have a daughter also, but she got married and lives over on Big Laurel.”
“How long has he been missing?”
“Eight days.”
“What do you suspect?”
“Dead.”
“Didn’t run away?”
“Twenty-five years old, lives at home, has a good job in Madison working at the courthouse and farms on the side. He’s got a flock of sheep he keeps and one or two cows. Makes pretty good money and he is well liked in the community. Dates a girl over in Madison, Mina Beth Cody. Need to talk with her. She’s next on the list.”
“You don’t think they’re together?”
“I don’t. She called first and said he failed to show up one evening. Date or something. Then the parents called and said he didn’t come home when he said he would. We’ll go see the girl after the visit with the folks.”
“I haven’t had a chance to ask you how you are doing,” I said.
“How am I doing what?”
“Since your mother’s funeral and all.”
“Time passes. Life goes on. Death is there. I deal with it.”
“Still smoking?”
She quickly shifted her eyes from the road ahead to me, frowned, and looked back at the road.
“Whataya mean still?” she said.
“You were smoking when Wineski and I were here for the funeral.”
“I don’t smoke.”
It was such a definitive answer firmly stated, that I decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. Perhaps it was something that she needed at the time of her mother’s death. I dropped it. Some have actually accused me of having a wild imagination. Maybe that’s what it was a few weeks back. But I doubt it.
After several turns in the footpath, we finally entered an open valley nestled between two peaks. The small farm house was made of wood, painted and neat. Some late October flowers were hanging on as the season was pressing towards a colder change. The grass was still green noting a good season of rain. It was a warm Halloween day. As a child I could recall some very cold Halloweens in which my costume was not nearly warm up to suit me even if I was out canvassing for candy.
There was a fenced area on the right side of the house. The area was not level since the house had been built near the base of one of the peaks. The fence, like the land it secured, began abruptly the ascent towards the top of the mountain. The area appeared to be nearly an acre, give or take. Since I’m no surveyor, it was a rough estimate. There were sheep grazing placidly in the pastoral scene. I noticed that two cows shared this space with the sheep, but they preferred to be closer to the house on more level ground. They stared at us all the while chewing their cud. One of the cows followed us as we approached the house. The other, disinterested, went back to grazing. Her curiosity abated.
“So, if he didn’t run away, you figure there’s mischief.”
“If he was a teenager, then I’d say that he could be anywhere. But the folks I have interviewed thus far tell me that he is stable, a hard worker, and a decent man. He even goes to church with his girlfriend. I suspect that they were planning on marriage. I have a bad feeling. What can I say?” Starnes said matter-of-factly.
“No grudges out there against him?”
“Not that I have found.”
We walked up onto the porch and a white dog came around the corner of the house. The dog was not looking at us, but rather at Sam. Sam turned to face the dog. I paused, waited to see what would happen. Sam was about two sizes larger than the white canine. Despite that difference, the white dog was growling under his breath. Sam was silent. Ego always finds a way to demonstrate its prowess. And this was the white dog’s home turf.
The white dog sat down on h
is haunches all the while growling under his breath. Sam sat down in a similar fashion. Moments passed as the two dogs simply stared into each other’s eyes without wavering. Drama. Just when the door opened, I told Sam to stay put. We didn’t need a canine altercation. Bad karma whenever one is trying to investigate a possible crime.
“Hello, Starnes. Come in, come in,” a man said and we entered.
“Adam, this is Clancy Evans, a friend of mine who is here to help me figure out what happened to Abel,” Starnes said.
The man she introduced to me as Adam was of slight build, maybe five feet eight inches tall. He appeared to be in his late fifties, but he could have been a few years older. His hair was gray and he sported a gray mustache.
“Appears you could use the extra help,” he said not in a mean way. He nodded at me without speaking. “Come in and sit a spell.”
“We just wanted to see if you or Eve had come up with anything new since I last talked with you,” Starnes said without much inflection.
“Naw, just the same stuff, you know. He left outta here on that Friday, headed towards Madison. Said he had some stuff to buy for the sheep. Then he said he was going by Mina Beth’s house. You know they’d been pretty thick here of late. That was the last time we saw him.”
A stout lady entered the room and smiled at us. She probably outweighed Adam Gosnell by a good fifty pounds. She appeared to be somewhat taller than her husband. Her hair was streaked with gray tints intermittently, but still showed a rich, dark brown color. She definitely had not missed many meals in her life of fifty some years.
“Eve, this here is a friend of Starnes. Came to help her. Don’t know what she can do, but she’s tall enough to do it,” he said, which surprised me in his reference to my height. It wasn’t clear to me as to his meaning.
The lady nodded in my direction with a pleasant look about her.
“Won’t you’inses stay for a sit-down meal with us? We’re havin’ beans and cornbread. Glad to put out two more plates,” she said as if she really meant it.
I glanced at my watch and it was only 10:30 a.m. Nothing like planning ahead.
“Thank you kindly, Evelyn,” Starnes said, “but we need to keep at it. Can’t take too much time for pleasures like that. I want to find your son.”
“I want you to find him as well. You know the stars are not right on this one,” Evelyn said.
“Something’s not right,” Starnes said. “Look, we need to be heading back, just wanted you to meet Clancy. Sam’s outside.”
“Who’s Sam?” Adam said.
“Her dog. Good tracker. Smarter than most humans,” Starnes said.
Adam walked hurriedly over to the window and looked out into the front yard.
“Well, I’ll be damned. I ain’t ever seen anything like that before,” Adam said as he slapped the side of his pants’ leg.
The three of us joined Adam at the window and looked out on what had amazed him. Sam and the white dog were sitting side by side sharing a large stick. Sam chewed one end while the white dog was busy on the other.
“What’s so amazing about that?” Starnes said.
“That dog, Bolt, is a killer. He don’t like other dogs, and don’t much care for humans neither. I ain’t ever seen him lie down next to another animal, especially no dog. And a black dog to boot. Never in my life. Lady, that dog of yours must be something special.”
“Is there anyone you can think of that might have an idea about your son? Anything might help at this point.” Starnes asked Adam and Evelyn.
Adam mentioned some names as Starnes made mental notes regarding the names.
“Oh, you might go by and see his brother. Lives in the first house you came to up the holler here. Next house down on the left as you leave out. His name’s Cain. He might have seen his brother.”
“Think he’ll be home at this time of day?” Starnes asked.
“Yeah. Either he’ll be in the house working on something, or out in one of the fields. He’s a farmer of sorts, grows all types of crops. Had a good year, too. Both crops and weeds.”
“He live alone?” I said to the couple.
“Yeah, he lives alone,” Adam said. “Why do you ask that?”
“Just a question,” I said.
“Divorced finalized a year ago,” Evelyn said. “Was a hard break-up. Hurt him bad. Still down a bit about that, I think. But he’ll talk with you, Starnes.”
We thanked the Gosnells and headed down the holler. Sam left the stick with Bolt. Bolt had stopped growling under his breath. I was wondering how many animals that Bolt had killed in his lifetime. Or people.
Chapter Six
We were nearing the house that had been identified as the home for the other son, Cain Gosnell. Starnes and I scanned the surrounding land to see if we could spot him out in a field. We saw no one. At some point, I turned to look back up the holler from where we had walked and noticed Bolt was standing off at a distance down from what I had imagined to be his domain. Apparently the whole of Spillcorn hollow belonged to Bolt. Few would take exception to his claim, I was certain.
“Sam, you’re being observed,” I said.
Sam looked back up the holler in the direction of the Gosnell’s place. He wagged his tale but remained silent. Intuitive communication.
“You’ve made a friend, perhaps.”
He looked at me as if I had lost my mind for a brief moment.
“Starnes, one of us needs to say it, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t know that I have ever ventured into a culture like this. The names had to be intentional at some point, don’t you think?” I said.
“Well, Adam Gosnell was born in this holler. His wife comes from Big Spruce Cove, Evelyn Briggs was her name. You noticed he calls her Eve,” she said.
“Yeah. Too much to be a coincidence, huh?”
“You never know what’s in the mind of folks. The Bible is a powerful book around here. Some of the people still fight over which translation is authentic. They take their religion seriously, if they take it at all. Names mean something. Maybe it’s just powerful juju to give biblical names.”
“Adam and Eve, two sons, Cain and Abel, and a white dog named Bolt.”
“They could have named him Serpent,” Starnes said.
I would have sworn that she smiled when she said it, but a smile on her face was so rare, I had nothing with which to compare it. Maybe just indentions around her mouth.
“The name Bolt works for me,” I said.
The house had a dilapidated picket fence around the front yard. Some pickets were missing and it had been a long while since any kind of paint had been put on the fence. The gate was missing as well, but the rusty hinges held fast to the slumped post. Some weeds were growing all along the fence. There were no flowers in the yard or along the decaying fence. The ambience was foreboding.
“Wonder how far this family carried out the story,” I said.
Starnes looked at me and shook her head.
“Don’t go there. We have no evidence of anything.”
She knocked on the door. We waited. I thought I heard a sound from inside the house. Starnes knocked again. Silence. We stepped off the porch and headed towards the space left by the missing gate. It was then I heard the sound of a rifle being cocked.
“What you two want here?” a voice said from behind us.
Starnes and I turned around at the same time and could see a man standing at the left side of the house holding a rifle to his eye and shoulder.
“I’m Starnes Carver, acting sheriff of McAdams County. You can put that gun down before something happens you don’t want to happen.”
Starnes never winced a smidgen. Steady is as steady goes.
The man lowered the rifle, but kept his right index finger on the trigger as he held the rifle to his side. I notice such things because in my experience I have known people to change their mind.
“You Cain Gosnell?” Starnes asked.
&nb
sp; “What if I am?”
“Had a rough morning, did ya?” Starnes said as she began walking towards the man holding the rifle.
“What’s it to you, Sheriff?” he said and slurred Starnes’ newly acquired title.
“I’m trying to find out where your brother is. You wouldn’t happen to have any clues to his whereabouts, would you?”
The biblical story flashed through my mind. God had asked a similar question eons ago. I waited for the possibility of a repeat here. Dialogue is critical in any good story. Sometimes that’s also true when a detective is wanting to solve a possible crime.
“Nary a notion, Sheriff. You know you’re trespassing,” he said with a grin.
“You wouldn’t make allowances for folks trying to help you?” she said.
“I ain’t the one lookin’ for Abel. You ain’t helping me any. Now you two can go and be careful comin’ back this way. I don’t care much for the law nor strangers.”
“Thanks for your hospitality,” Starnes said.
We headed off down the hollow without looking back. Sam roamed around ahead of us while we pondered our morning adventure with the Gosnell folks. It was a mixed report so far. Did notice that Sam would turn around and run back behind us. I looked at him once to see that he was not staring at Bolt any longer. Bolt was gone. Sam was watching the man with the rifle who was standing at the empty spot where there used to be a gate. A slight move, to be sure; however, it was still a move in our departure direction.
“You have any thoughts on this, Clancy Evans?”
“Just one. I think we might want to check the biblical angle before we dismiss it outright.”
“You mean that part of the story where it says that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him?” Starnes said what sounded like a quote from the Bible.
“That would be the part.”
“It has crossed my mind more than once these past few days.”
Chapter Seven
Starnes Carver pulled her dirty Ford Escort into a parking space in front of a greasy spoon restaurant in downtown Madison, North Carolina.
When Blood Cries Page 3