Secrets at Sweetwater Cove

Home > Other > Secrets at Sweetwater Cove > Page 5
Secrets at Sweetwater Cove Page 5

by Sally Roseveare


  Elton laughed. “Naw, don’t reckon I do. Now if you wuz to go find her for me. …”

  “Ain’t gonna happen. If I go looking for her, you ain’t gonna git her.” Jude looked at his watch. “Okay, let’s git to it. Put the two young ‘uns in the crate, leave ‘em some food and water. Maggie and Blue are good trackers. They’ll come with us.”

  Blue and Maggie pulled at their leashes. Jude and Elton stumbled, recovered, fended off pine branches that slapped their faces as they tried to keep pace with the hounds. Jude pulled Blue to a stop, blew his whistle. Nothing.

  “Last night was a blast, Jude,” said Elton. “Today ain’t so good. How come you ain’t got all that new-fangled huntin’ stuff them guys at the Corner Store’s always going on ‘bout?” He wiped his brow with a grimey handkerchief, stuffed it back in his pocket.

  “You mean all that ‘lectronic junk like radios on the hounds’ collars and a truck horn what beeps every ten minutes or so to help you find your way back?” Elton nodded. “I ain’t never gonna get none of that stuff. Don’t need it. Takes all the fun outta coon huntin’. Besides, I could buy me two more well-broke hounds for what it’d cost me to buy all that stuff.” Jude blew his whistle again.

  Blue cocked his head, stuck his nose in the air, sniffed. Elton jumped when a deep hound-dog bay rumbled from Blue’s throat. In the distance, they heard an answering bark. The hounds tugged on their leashes.

  “Hot damn,” said Jude. He unleashed Blue. “They’s got her now. Turn Maggie loose, Elton.”

  Once free, the hounds bounded down the rocky mountain. Soon the dogs’ voices changed to frantic barking. The hunters slipped and slid their way down Smith Mountain. All three hounds’ barks blended into a fevered pitch.

  “They’s got somethin’ down by the water,” hollered Elton. “Cain’t see what it is, though.”

  “I kin tell you this; it ain’t no coon they’s after.” Jude called the dogs. Only Blue bothered to even look at him. “Careful, Elton. There’s somethin’ mighty strange ‘bout this.”

  The men continued down the mountain, grabbed the hounds, snapped the leads on their collars. The dogs whined, pulled against their restraints. Jude and Elton stared at the object in front of them. The dented freezer, its door cracked partially open, lay half in Smith Mountain Lake. A mangled shoe stuck out of the freezer. Inside the torn remains of the shoe was a human foot. Blood oozed from the big toe.

  Elton puked. He could hardly breathe. He wondered what Jude had gotten him into this time. Why had he ever accepted Jude’s invitation? He’d hunted with Jude before, knew his reputation. Not good. Now he wondered if he’d survive this.

  His wife had told him not to go. “The astrological signs are not in your favor,” she’d said as she’d sipped her green tea. “Stay home. Please.”

  Elton had laughed at her, blew off her warnings. She was too wrapped up in all that gobbledygook horoscope stuff. Until then he’d thought they were only superstitions. Now he wasn’t sure. Would he ever see her again? Would he see his five kids?

  Elton puked again, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and scrambled up the mountain. He stumbled, regained his footing, lost the leash.

  Jude glanced once more at the freezer—and the foot. “Wait for me!” he hollered to Elton. Tripping over roots, rocks, and fallen trees, he hurried after his friend as best he could. The three hounds followed close behind.

  Elton lost his footing, fell backwards. “Watch out!” he yelled to Jude.

  Jude stopped, looked up. Elton’s falling body knocked Jude to the ground. Both men tumbled down the mountain. Thwack. Elton’s body slammed against a boulder. He didn’t move.

  Farther down the mountain, Jude’s high-pitched scream as he hit the pine stump echoed across the mountain. Maggie ran to him, whined, tugged on his jacket. When he didn’t move, she stretched out beside her master.

  An hour before Monday’s sunrise, Elton stirred, groaned. He moved his arms, tried to move his legs. His right leg refused. He winced, screamed. He couldn’t believe the pain. He touched his knee, felt blood, torn flesh and bone. His head hurt like hell. But he was alive.

  “Jude!” he hollered. “Where are you?”

  His buddy didn’t answer. But Maggie did. Elton yelled for Jude again. Maggie’s answering howl was the only sound.

  “Maggie, come here, girl.” A mournful howl answered. “Maggie, Blue, come.” Maggie barked but didn’t come.

  Elton flinched when Blue’s tongue touched his forehead, licked the blood. Elton figured Jude was seriously injured or dead. Otherwise, he would have answered Elton’s shouts. He needed to get to Jude’s truck, call for help from the cell phone they’d left on the front seat. Elton wondered how he could have been so stupid. Of course, Jude didn’t like new-fangled contraptions, usually left his cell in the truck’s glove compartment, kept it for emergencies only.

  “Well, if this don’t count as a ‘mergency, I don’t know what does,” Elton said. Blue licked his forehead again. Elton pushed Blue off of him, grabbed his collar, worked his hand down to the end of the leash. “Don’t wanna lose you, boy. You just might be my only way outta here.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Monday morning

  First King whined, then nudged Aurora’s knee and trotted to the door. When she let him out, she heard the rain. There wouldn’t be a run for King and her this morning. Aurora considered herself a fair-weather runner; King had learned to accept that.

  Aurora stepped onto the covered porch—her mother had called it the veranda—and listened. The sound of sirens was not a welcome one. She had hated them ever since she was a little girl, when the family had lived in Lynchburg. An ambulance, with sirens blasting, had gone to the house next door. While trying to adjust a TV antenna, the man who lived there had fallen from his slate roof to the cement walk two stories below. He’d died instantly. Aurora had seen him fall, had heard his scream and the thud when his body hit. She’d dreamed of the blood for months.

  Pulling herself together, Aurora tried to concentrate. She hadn’t heard this many sirens since the boating accident when two people and their dog were killed by a drunk driver in a powerboat.

  With her imagination running overtime, she wondered if terrorists had attacked Smith Mountain Dam, but quickly dismissed the idea. Besides, she’d have heard a loud boom. Maybe the accident would be on the news.

  Sam drove to work amidst a pouring rain. Some folks asked how he could stand the 45-minute commute to Bedford every day, but he liked driving the curvy country roads with their rolling hills and flat fields—many now yellowed because of the drought—and catching sight of turkeys and deer crossing the road, watching the ever-changing shades of blue in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

  He switched the windshield wipers from intermittent to high. Lots of rain would help the drought. He laughed, realizing he was humming “Drip Drip, Drippety Drop.” This 1958 Drifters song would run through his mind all day unless another tune or something important took its place. His co-workers wouldn’t like it, but by the end of the day they’d all be humming the same tune.

  Sam liked his engineering job. From his office window he could see the Peaks of Otter. Before they moved to Augusta, he and Aurora had enjoyed many picnics and hikes on Sharp Top and Flat Top. They surprised everybody when they honeymooned at the Peaks of Otter Lodge.

  “Why in the world did you go there?” friends had asked.

  “Because the Lodge is quiet—no TV or phone to disrupt nature’s song—and because no other spot can equal the Blue Ridge Mountains,” they’d answered.

  Sam smiled, remembering his and Aurora’s first date. He’d fallen for her when he saw her sunning one steamy August day. In his Chris-Craft, he and his friends had stopped to ask her for directions. The next day he’d driven to her house, asked her for a date. That evening they ate dinner at the Peaks of Otter Restaurant, then stopped at an overlook and danced to beach music. Even though he’d known her less than 24 hours, he’d wanted right then to
ask her to marry him, but figured she’d think he was weird and never want to see him again. So he waited a year to pop the question. He discovered then that her answer to his proposal on their first date would have been a resounding “Yes!” He knew he was a lucky and blessed man.

  Sam rounded a sharp curve. Flashing lights on two rescue squad vehicles, two police cars and a state police car warned him to pull over. With sirens blaring, the emergency entourage whizzed by. Seconds after he pulled back onto the road, he met three volunteer rescue vehicles and another police car.

  Something big must have happened, he thought. Bet there’s been another boating accident on the lake or a wreck on 122.

  Maybe Aurora had seen something about the accident on TV after he left this morning. Sam reached for his cell phone, called the house. When she didn’t answer, he switched on the radio.

  *

  Aurora hurried back inside, turned on the TV. She poured a second cup of coffee, sliced a small piece of leftover chocolate meringue pie, and sat down to watch. King stretched out beside her, one paw across her foot.

  Aurora switched back and forth among the two Roanoke channels and the Lynchburg one. On ABC, Diane Sawyer and a fashion designer were discussing fall fashions. On NBC, Meredith Vieira and Dr. Nancy Snyderman talked about head lice and the need to use a nit-picker. CBS flashed pictures of heavy flooding in Washington and Oregon. Nothing about the lake flashed across the screen.

  The telephone rang. Jill didn’t bother to even say hello. “Aurora, Robert just called me from D.C. A ham radio friend of his heard that a body has been found on Smith Mountain. The friend called Robert because he knew we own a house on the lake. He’s not sure where on the mountain the body was found, though.” Before Aurora could respond, Jill said, “And get this. The body is in a freezer! And the freezer is partly in the lake.”

  “When did this happen?”

  “This morning, some time before eight.”

  “Did the friend say what happened?”

  “At this point, I don’t think anyone knows. According to Robert’s friend, the authorities don’t know much yet. A couple of coon hunters and their dogs found the freezer. Did you hear a lot of sirens a little while ago?”

  “Yeah, I did. Bet they’re related.” Aurora thought for a second. “And you know what else? There’s no way a person could do that to himself, not if he’s in a freezer that’s in the lake. Was it a man or woman?” She looked out the window at Smith Mountain shrouded in fog. Rain drummed on the skylights overhead.

  “I don’t know; I assume a man. So what do you think happened to freezer man?”

  “I think freezer man was murdered.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  When the phone rang, Charlie Anderson put down the newspaper and checked caller ID. “Dixie Lee. I’m so glad you called,” he answered.

  Charlie was more than glad; he was ecstatic. He couldn’t believe how he and this lady from his past had clicked, how they’d enjoyed reminiscing about the old times and their departed spouses. Each understood the love and respect the other felt for their deceased partner. After all, they’d both been in loving marriages, were childless, and were devastated when their spouses died. Charlie was sure his beloved Annie would understand and applaud his feelings for Dixie Lee. He believed his old friend Ernie would feel the same.

  “Charlie, something’s happened.” Her voice shook. “I’m really worried. Hessie’s missing.”

  “Whoa, Dixie Lee. Slow down. Why do you think Hessie’s missing?” He picked up the coffee pot, refilled his mug.

  “Because she’s gone. I came to work this morning. There’s no sign of Hessie anywhere. I’ve called her nephew. He told me he talked to her at ten last night when her nighttime caregiver arrived.”

  “Maybe Hessie just wandered off,” he said. “Does she wear an ID bracelet?”

  “I’ve thought of that. And yes, she does.”

  “What time did you get to her house? Where are you now? Give me details.”

  As she talked, Charlie took notes. Dixie Lee had arrived at Hessie’s house at 7:45, 15 minutes before her scheduled time. A large vase was missing, but she’d found no sign of a struggle, no doors left open, no sign of the nighttime caregiver. After checking all the rooms in the house, even looking under beds, in closets, and in the basement, she had called Hessie’s guardian—who accused Dixie Lee of arriving late. The man said he’d scheduled her for 7:00, that Hessie’s nighttime caretaker probably left, maybe took Hessie with her when Dixie Lee failed to show up.

  “Charlie, he called me irresponsible. I’m not.” She burst into tears. “Nobody’s ever talked to me the way he did.”

  Charlie knew the drive from the Boonesboro area of Lynchburg would take him an hour. Someone needed to be with Dixie Lee now.

  “Honey, I’ll call Aurora. If I can reach her, I’m sure she’ll gladly go stay with you until I get there. See you in about an hour.” He didn’t realize he’d called her “honey.”

  Aurora assured Uncle Charlie that she and King could be at Dixie Lee’s condo in about 15 minutes. What a morning, she thought when she hung up. First she heard all the sirens, then….

  A horrible thought hit her. Was Hessie Davis the dead body in the freezer?

  On the mountain, Special Operations Command leader Mike shouted orders to rescue workers. “Jim, load the litter and ropes on your four-wheeler and head on up the mountain.” He pushed a button on his radio, barked into the mouthpiece. “Stan, Jim’s on his way with ropes and a litter. Where’d you say the injured man is?”

  “Halfway down the Smith Mountain Lake side of the mountain. We may be only a few miles from civilization, but believe me, this is still a backcountry rescue. Tell Jim to drive to the first tower and unload his gear. From there he may need to repel. Be better if several others come, too. I’d go help, but this man’s in bad shape. Got a damn broken pine branch sticking all the way through his right thigh.”

  No matter how many calls he answered, Mike never got used to the injuries, the deaths. Every time he thought about quitting he remembered the day of his son’s motorcycle accident, how the 17-year-old would have bled to death if not for the care of dedicated EMTs. No, he could never quit. “You’re saying he’s impaled?”

  “Yeah. And his head’s bleeding, and he’s unconscious. His vitals aren’t good. He needs help ASAP.” Mike looked around. “Would be good if we could fly him out of here. Maybe somebody up top can scout around for a possible chopper landing site. And we need a saw, too.

  “A saw? Why?”

  “To cut off the branch that’s stickin’ through his leg.”

  “Is the branch still attached to the tree?”

  “Yep.”

  “You gonna stabilize it first?”

  “Yep.”

  “Gotcha. I’ll send a saw,” said Mike.

  Down by the lake, members of the Smith Mountain Marine Fire Department tied up their boat and stepped on shore. “Hell, it’s a freezer! The body’s in a freezer!”

  “That’s what I told you when I made the call,” said Bob, another EMT. “And we don’t know if the body is intact or, or …”

  “Is ‘mutilated’ the word you’re looking for?”

  “Yeah. Mutilated. Did you bring the crowbar like I said?”

  “Right here.”

  “Then let’s get at it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  In Carole’s office, Luke stood with his arms folded. He could barely control the fury raging inside him. Things between them had changed drastically in the last four days. He didn’t like it worth a damn. And he didn’t want to lose Carole. Especially to a man like Winston Ford—a man who would wine, dine, and charm her, then leave her with a broken heart as he moved on to his next conquest. The man was a sleazeball. Couldn’t Carole see through him?

  Luke willed his temper to calm down. Trying to ignore Win who stood behind her, Luke faced Carole at her desk. “Why can’t you take half a day off, Carole?” He pointed to Win and sa
id, “You’ve worked with him every day since Friday. I’ve only seen you once, and then for only a couple of hours. You’ve spent most evenings with him. Hell, you’ve eaten almost every meal with him. For heaven’s sake, Carole. We’re engaged! Start acting like it.”

  Carole looked up at him, shook her head. “I’m showing him property, Luke. So far nothing has suited him. It’s business. And don’t tell me what to do.”

  Smiling, Win walked around from behind Carole’s desk, stopped in front of Luke. “Whether it’s business or pleasure, old man, Carole’s doing exactly what she wants to do. And if you lose her because of your jealousy—well then, the best man will win.”

  Win flicked a hair off Luke’s denim jacket. “And I assure you, I always win.”

  Luke’s right fist slammed into Win’s jaw. A follow-up with his left knocked Win to the floor.

  “Stop it, Luke!” Carole screamed. She knelt beside Win, stared at the blood on his lip. “Luke, you’re acting like a damn fool!”

  Win pushed himself into a sitting position, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, grinned at Luke. “Thanks, old man. You just lost.”

  Luke spun around, slammed the door on his way out. He stood on the porch, breathed deeply. Smart, Luke. You just drove Carole into Win’s eager arms. She’s right. You’re a damn fool.

  On the fifth floor of The View, King and Aurora stepped off the elevator. Minutes later they stood in Dixie Lee’s condominium. With a big dog smile on his face, King sat and offered his paw to Dixie Lee. She wiped away her tears and shook hands with him.

  “Aurora, thank you for coming. And thanks for bringing King, too.” She rubbed the Lab’s head.

  “Dixie Lee, why don’t you sit down. I’ll fix us both a cup of coffee. Or tea. Whichever you prefer.”

  “Thank you, dear. Tea would be wonderful.” Dixie Lee told Aurora where she kept the tea, sugar, and cups.

  “You have a gorgeous place here,” Aurora said. They sat on the love seat facing the water and sipped Earl Grey. “Your view is incredible.”

 

‹ Prev