Secrets at Sweetwater Cove

by Sally Roseveare

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE

  Friday, 6:45 a.m.

  In Greenville, Etta rocked on Mac and Sue’s screened porch and watched the birds dive to the feeders. Mouser eyed the pair of cardinals on the other side of the screen.

  “You’re an early riser,” said Sue as she joined Etta.

  “Yeah, I usually am.”

  “I brought you a cup of coffee.” Sue set a tray with three cups, coffee carafe, sugar, and skim milk on the glass-top table. “Mac will bring the bagels out as soon as they’re ready.”

  “Thanks. It’s so nice out here. I could live on this screen porch. Mouser likes it, too.”

  Sue laughed. “So do we. In the hottest part of the summer, the heat and humidity keep us from using it as often as we’d like. But spring, early summer and fall are perfect times to sit out here.”

  Mouser rubbed against Sue’s leg. “Wraaa!” he cried.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “I think he wants breakfast, too,” said Etta as she dished cat food into a pie tin. “Thanks for stopping at the store last night for me to pick up cat food and cat litter. And I’m sure he liked his makeshift bed out here on the porch, too.”

  “He does seem happier this morning, more relaxed.” said Sue. “It’s nice to have a cat around again.”

  “Yeah. I’m real glad I brought him instead of leaving him in my little house. Butch would have killed him for sure.”

  Mac arrived with the bagels, butter and jams. “Dig in.”

  They did.

  “Detective Stein called a few minutes ago, Etta. He asked if you could go to the police station this morning. He has more questions to ask you.”

  “I don’t have a car, remember?” The thought of seeing all those police uniforms again made her tremble.

  “Mac can drop me off at my office on his way to work. You can drive mine. Once you’re through with the police, you can come back here and make yourself at home. A key to the house is on my key ring.”

  “I thought Mac needed to take his car to the garage. Butch put some bad dents in the rear end.”

  “I’ll do that on the way. The garage will loan me a vehicle until mine’s repaired.”

  “It’s 7:00 now. What time do you need to leave? Since I don’t know Greenville, I’ll just follow you.”

  “That’s fine. Would 7:45 be too early?”

  “Nope. I’ll be ready.” Etta stirred milk and three spoonfuls of sugar into her coffee.

  One and a half hours later, Sue’s car idled in the police station parking lot. Etta stared out the window, worried about the inquisition the cops would give her. Mac had assured her that she needn’t be upset, that all Detective Stein wanted was to ask her some questions, see if he could get more information on Butch.

  But Etta’s dad had been a cop, the kind folks called a bad cop. The fact that he accepted bribes was bad enough. What most folks never knew is that he took his frustrations out on his wife and their two daughters. That one winter night when Etta’s sister had called the police to come protect them from their dad, the police had tried to ignore her frantic call for help. After all, he was a cop. Cops protect cops. When they finally came after a worried neighbor reported domestic violence next door, her dad had already stabbed her mother, beaten her unconscious, and tossed her out the door into the snow.

  In Etta’s mind, she could still hear his footsteps on the wooden stairs as he headed toward the bedroom she and her sister shared. Visions of her dad, butcher knife in hand, breaking through the locked bedroom door as she and her sister clung together still gave her nightmares. The sisters had screamed, held tight to each other.

  “Drop it!” the police had ordered her dad. Etta could still remember the crazed look in his eyes and the sick grin on his face as he dashed toward their bed, his knife held high. “Stop!” yelled the police. Moments later her dad lay dead on the floor.

  Maybe she should just drive away, forget about Butch, the cops, Sue and Mac. She could go to New Bern, live with her sister. She’d figure out a way to return the car to Sue. But what about Mouser? Even though she knew Sue and Mac would give him a good home, could she just walk away as though Mouser meant nothing to her? She closed her eyes, rested her head against the steering wheel.

  No. She hadn’t abandoned Mouser when she left her little house. She would not abandon him now. She sighed and shut off the engine. Determined to face her fears, Etta took a deep breath and walked into the police station.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR

  Friday, 10:15 P.M.

  Back on Spawning Run Road, Aurora finished her third cup of coffee, stuck the mug in the dishwasher, and dialed Uncle Charlie. She told him her suspicions about the helicopters. “I’m sure the murder of the man in Virginia and the burning helicopter in New Jersey are related. And I also believe Win Ford is part of it all.”

  “Aurora, you’re not thinking clearly.”

  “Yes I am. Uncle Charlie, I just know I’m right. And I’m going to prove it.”

  “How?”

  “First I’ll call around, find somebody who knows how long it takes a chopper to fly from La Grande Maison to the Lovingston area. There are witnesses who say Win left the estate in a helicopter. We also know what time he left. Then I’ll find out how long it would take a helicopter to go from Lovingston to the private airfield in New Jersey.”

  “You’re a pretty stubborn lady, you know that? You always have been. Nothing I say will talk you out of doing this, so I may as well help,” said Charlie.

  “Remember when I ran into you, Carole and that Win guy in Dixie Lee’s building? Well, I was positive his name was Anthony. He denied it. Remember?”

  “I do.”

  “I’ll check it out. His fingerprints will be on file.”

  “I was hoping you’d volunteer.”

  “Actually, Aurora, it would be faster to just run a print from Win, see if Anthony’s name comes up.”

  “Yeah, it would. And his prints would be all over his car. The police have impounded it. They’re probably checking it right now if they haven’t already done so.”

  “I’ll call Sheriff Roberts about the prints as soon as we hang up.”

  “And I’ll get moving on the helicopter thing. Talk to you later, Uncle Charlie. Love you.”

  “I love you too, Aurora.”

  With local telephone books beside her, Aurora sat at the kitchen table and opened the Yellow Pages to listings under Aircraft Charters. Only a few companies listed helicopters. She jotted down their names and phone numbers.

  Before she could start dialing, Sam called from his office.

  “Just checking on you,” he said. “You’ve been through a lot. I hope you’re planning to take a nap today.”

  “Probably not. I really want a horse, so I’m working on the helicopter puzzle,” Aurora said. “Just kidding. But I am trying to get info on helicopters because I want to know if I’m right.” She told him how she planned to call helicopter charters to see if they could help.

  “I can calculate the mileage and the length of time it would take a chopper to fly to the Lovingston and New Jersey destinations for you. Shouldn’t be hard or take long. I’ll work on it during my break. If I can’t get what you want, you can start calling the numbers in the phone books.”

  “Thanks. Call me when you know something.”

  After talking to Sam, Aurora put on her sweats and running shoes, wrote a note for Monique, and called King. “Want to go for a run?”

  King sprinted around the great room, yelped several times, nudged Aurora’s leg and dashed to the door.

  “I know we haven’t run for a while. Sorry. We both need the exercise. Let’s go.” King barked.

  Three miles and 35 minutes later, woman and dog walked back into the house. Aurora looked at her watch and frowned. They—well, she—hadn’t made good time. King had stayed beside her as though he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.

  But at least I cleared the cobwebs from my head. I’ve go
t some ideas how to proceed with my investigation, she thought.

  She showered, dressed in jeans, a fall-themed sweatshirt, socks and sneakers. When she walked into the great room, Monique was sitting at the kitchen counter munching on a bowl of shredded wheat topped with fat blueberries.

  “These blueberries are really yummy,” Monique said to Aurora.

  “Thanks. I picked 11 quarts in late August from a local farm and froze them. They’re especially good in the dead of winter. Glad you’re enjoying them.” She poured another cup of coffee and sat down beside Monique.

  “Monique, do you mind if I ask you some questions while you’re eating?”

  “Nope.”

  “Will it upset you if the questions concern Otis?”

  “All memories of Otis like upset me. I loved him more than I guessed.”

  “I know you did, but I must ask. People’s lives depend on the answers.”

  “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Did Otis ever mention the names of the people he worked with or hung out with?”

  “Yeah, he did. I like remember lots of nights when he didn’t get home until really late. He’d tell me he’d been working—not his regular work at La Grande Maison—and he wasn’t proud of what he’d done, said he’d done bad things to keep his job. Especially the last time.”

  “What kind of bad things?”

  “Well, he and this guy Butch would like go into unfinished houses in Sweetwater Cove and vandalize and steal stuff. Most times they’d just like mess up floors, cabinets, walls. Once they almost burned a house down.”

  “I heard about the fire in Sweetwater Cove,” said Aurora.

  Monique nodded. “Well, he said the last time Butch like stuffed raw chicken in the heat vents in the master bedroom. Can you imagine how much that would stink, especially after the homeowners turned on the heat? Made me like gag when he talked about it. And they stole the brand new appliances that had been delivered that day.”

  “What’d they do with the appliances? Was one a freezer?”

  “I think they like usually sold ‘em. But the last time he said they like pushed a freezer off Smith Mountain. Then he like got really quiet, said he didn’t want to talk about it ever again.”

  “Who is Butch?”

  “Don’t know for sure. But I remember Otis saying one time that their plans had changed ‘cause Butch was gonna like meet Etta, whoever that is. Butch works for one of the head honchos, takes orders from some guy named Smoot. Funny thing is Smoot works for Sweetwater. He’s like got some power, can do anything he wants. At least Otis said so. Oh, I just remembered that Butch drives a black paneled van. I know ‘cause he picked Otis up in it a couple times.”

  Aurora couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She grabbed a pad and pen and started writing.

  Butch drives a black paneled van. A black van almost ran Hessie down. Kurt saw the van at the Southerland house and at Hessie’s house. The license number on the van that almost hit Hessie and the one at her house are the same. Appliances, including a freezer, were stolen from the Southerland house. Butch—or Otis—shoved a freezer off Smith Mountain. Tom Southerland was found in a freezer at the edge of Smith Mountain Lake. Hessie disappeared. King and Little Guy found her on Smith Mountain.

  As Aurora was completing her Butch list, Sam called. “I got the info you wanted. Do you have something to write on?”

  “Yep, I’m ready.”

  “Okay, then. What I discovered is that the average helicopter can fly 133 miles per hour, some at only 90 miles per hour, although one chopper is on record of going 331. As the crow flies, the distance from where La Grande Maison is located to the airfield near Lovingston, Virginia, is approximately 68 miles, which would take about 45 minutes. Does that sound right to you?”

  Aurora studied her notes. “I’m guessing Win left La Grande Maison not too long after you and the police rescued us. Sheriff Rogers would know the exact time. I’ll check with him. Now how about from Lovingston to the Cherry Hill area?”

  “To the New Jersey airfield from the Virginia one is approximately 238 miles as the crow—or helicopter—flies, would take about two and a half hours.”

  “Did you add in the time it would take the chopper to refuel?”

  “No. I’m guessing, but I’d say in the neighborhood of 15 to 20 minutes, depending on how many gallons the tank holds and if the pilot has several refuels ahead of him. You could check that out.”

  Aurora looked at the times she’d written down and made her calculations. “If you’re right and it would take 20 minutes to gas up, then in my opinion it could be the same helicopter.” She laughed. “How soon do I get my horse?”

  “Not so fast, Susie-Q. You need to check out these calculations, and you still have to get the hard facts. Besides, you know my okay isn’t necessary for you to buy a horse. I figured you’d buy one sooner or later.”

  An hour later, Uncle Charlie called Aurora. “His name is Anthony Smoot, not I. Winston Ford. And he was in my court once. I didn’t like him. Thought he was dangerous. I was right. But with the evidence presented and a jury that didn’t find him guilty, I couldn’t throw him in prison for the rest of his life. Which is where he should be.”

  “Good work, Uncle Charlie. Monique mentioned the name Smoot a little while ago.” Her fingers flew across the computer keyboard as she Googled the now familiar name.

  “Sheriff Roberts reminded me that a Jasper Smoot broke into that kid’s house. What’s the name? You know him.”

  “You mean Kurt Karver?”

  “Yeah. Jasper Smoot’s also suspected of shooting Karver’s neighbor. And he’s the one who hired Dixie Lee to stay with Hessie.”

  “That’s where I heard his name. So we have two bad Smoots in the area. My guess is they’re related.” Jasper’s address came up on her monitor. “Oh my gosh. He lives in one of the Sweetwater Cove condos. I bet you anything he, Butch, and Otis are responsible for abducting Hessie and dumping her on Smith Mountain.”

  “Very likely,” said Uncle Charlie.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE

  One week later

  Aurora set a tray of appetizers and wine glasses beside bottles of wine on the kitchen island. She smiled, enjoying the sound of Sam and their guests. She loved their chatter, their laughter. She liked being surrounded by family and friends; she wished her parents and Aunt Annie could take part in the festivities.

  “Come pour yourself a glass of wine,” she called to them. “There are sodas and water, appetizers, too. More will come.”

  King and Little Guy barked seconds before the doorbell rang. When Aurora opened the door, Lieutenant Conner and Sergeant Johnson stood on the front porch. Huge smiles spread across their faces.

  “Mind if we come in?” asked Lieutenant Conner. He shook King’s offered paw, patted Little Guy’s head.

  “Of course not.”

  “We have some information we thought you’d like to hear. But you have company. We can come back tomorrow.”

  “No, please stay,” said Sam from behind Aurora. “You’re just in time for a little celebration. Help yourselves to some appetizers and a glass of wine. I think you know everyone here.”

  The deputies looked around the room. “Actually, I think all of you would like to hear our news. We’re on duty, can’t drink anything alcoholic. A glass of water would be great, though.”

  Sam clinked a goblet with his spoon. “Everybody, I believe most of you know our friends, Deputies Ian Conner and Joe Johnson.” A chorus of “Yes” and “Welcome” filled the room. “They want to share some information with us.”

  “Thought you’d like to know that Butch—real name Wallace Smith—confessed to hitting Hessie Davis and kidnapping her,” said Lieutenant Conner. “Tom Southerland caught Butch stealing the new appliances from the Southerland house in Sweetwater Cove, so Butch and his buddies Otis and Shorty attacked Southerland and hit him over the head. Thinking they’d killed him, they stuffed him in the stolen freezer that was in
the back of the van. Otis pushed the freezer off the mountain. Later, they also dumped Hessie on the ridge road on Smith Mountain.”

  “Nice guys,” said Jill. She popped a baby carrot in her mouth.

  Monique interrupted. “I like apologize to all y’all for what my Otis did. Basically, Otis was a nice person, just got in with the wrong crowd. And no matter what bad things all y’all think he did, he wouldn’t shoot me. He saved my life. It ain’t fair he died because of me. I miss him lots.”

  Sergeant Johnson walked across the room, sat next to Monique on the couch. “During our investigation, we discovered that Butch, Win and Jasper—we’ll get to Jasper and Win in a minute—knew about something Otis did, used that information to force him to cooperate. They blackmailed him for several years.”

  “What’d they have on Otis?” asked Monique.

  “Sure you want to know?”

  Monique nodded.

  “Well, a few years ago Otis got hold of some local moonshine, drank until he was out of his head, then robbed a convenience store and pistol-whipped the 52-year old clerk. She’s still in a wheelchair, will probably deal with that for the rest of her life. Butch saw it all,” said Lieutenant Conner. “The police never caught Otis.”

  “That like explains his fear of cops and goin’ to jail.”

  “There’s more. Butch thought Etta would rat on him after he hit Hessie. Even though Etta didn’t know for sure that Butch dropped Hessie on Smith Mountain, Etta was smart. She wanted none of what was happening. Butch knew she’d turn on him eventually. He told me that Etta had morals and wouldn’t keep her mouth shut,” said Lieutenant Conner. “Besides, Jasper threatened to shoot him if he didn’t get rid of her.”

  “Butch would have killed me if Mac and Sue hadn’t helped me. And he torched my car,” said Etta.

  “What about Jasper?” asked Aurora.

  “Jasper Smoot worked as the accountant and bookkeeper at Sweetwater Cove for the last few years. His stepfather Dave had worked as foreman for Sweetwater for about six years. Dave expected to be promoted to contractor. When the owner hired Tom Southerland—his old college roommate—instead of promoting Dave, Dave’s wife Estelle—who is Jasper and Win’s mother by another marriage—set out to destroy Southerland and his wife Blanche. On orders from Estelle, Jasper embezzled funds from Sweetwater and planned to blame it on Southerland if anyone discovered the money was missing. Jasper hired Butch, Shorty and Otis to vandalize houses under construction. Also on his mother’s orders.”