The fog was gone and the sun was shining. It was almost warm but nothing to write home about. Just another unusual day in the mountains in winter.
I took Dog from Starnes and carried her into the house. Starnes insisted that she not try to walk. I had another idea, but it was her dog.
I watched Starnes fuss over Dog’s bedding for several minutes. I sat on the couch with the injured animal and waited for her to finish her fastidiousness. She finally got the bedding to her liking and came for Dog.
“I’ll put her there,” I said. “You shouldn’t be lifting anything. She weighs a good fifty pounds,” I said.
Starnes watched me like a hawk.
“Be gentle,” she said.
“I’m a better nurse than cook.”
“Gosh almighty, I hope so,” she said. “I can still taste those horrid eggs you scorched this morning. And I also have some serious questions about your nursing skills. I can still feel you hovering around my bed the last few days.”
“Keep it up and I won’t cook another meal for you. And I won’t take care of you the next time you are mauled in the woods.”
“Do you swear to that?” she said and laughed at me.
I get absolutely no respect around that woman.
While we were attending closely to Dog and her bedding, I heard a whining noise coming from the front of the house.
“You hear that?” I said.
“I hear nothing,” Starnes said.
“It’s a dog whining.”
“You’re hearing things. Wishful thinking,” she said.
“Don’t bet on it,” I said and left Starnes and Dog.
I walked to the front and looked out the window. I could see nothing on the porch from the angle of the window. I opened the door. Sam was curled up on the porch in front of the door. It was then that I noticed some blood spots on the porch leading up to the spot where he had collapsed. He was breathing heavily, labored.
But he was alive.
I was sitting alone in the vet’s office. It was close to five o’clock. I had just finished talking with Starnes, telling her that I knew nothing and that Sam was still in surgery with the vet. I felt the need to stand and walk. Pacing is good to help pass the time. Since I couldn’t do any serious hovering, I was left only with pacing. It’s good for a restless spirit. Anxiety is diminished by pacing. Not nearly enough.
My conversation with the vet had been brief when I had arrived. I was proud of myself for suggesting rather strongly to him that Sam should be considered part of a crime scene and that I would appreciate him taking some blood samples from all over his body. He looked at me strangely, but nodded as if he agreed.
I called Rosey’s cell, but there was no answer. He must have been in some dead zone in the woods.
Time was moving too slowly to suit me. I went outside and watched the sun set for a while. Downtown Madison at sunset wasn’t a bad postcard scene. River town, old train tracks still used periodically, small town feel because it was, after all, a small town, and the sun setting on another slow day in the Blue Ridge Mountains. My dog had come back to me. The world was a slightly better place in which to live for the moment.
The mayhem had subsided, but there were lots of aftershocks and collateral damages to be handled. At least I thought that the mayhem had subsided.
I went back inside and sat some more. It was now 6:22 on a Thursday evening. I was nowhere near solving a deep mystery of some strange goings-on in the hills. At least I hadn’t lost a good friend or her dog. My dog was home as well. All’s well that ends well, sort of. I had the rather strong feeling this was not the end.
The door of the office opened and Ben Bevel entered the building. He smiled and sat down next to me.
“How’ya doin’, Miss Clancy?” he said.
“Okay. Just waiting to see what the doctor says Sam needs.”
He seemed pleased to learn that Sam had come back. He was surprised that Sam had found his way across the county from where he had been to where Starnes lived.
“Injured badly?”
“Not as much as Dog. Amazing, huh?”
“Yessim, that’s flat dab amazin’, if you ask me. You know any more about what happened?”
I told him what Starnes had related to me about the ordeal.
“And Sam fought whatever it was? Wow, that’s somethin’, Miss Clancy. That really is. You think Sam injured the animal?”
The thought had not crossed my mind until that moment. I was so preoccupied with Starnes, her injuries, Dog and her wounds, and Sam and his that I had not stopped to think that perhaps Sam had actually caused some hurt to the animal trying to kill Starnes. Some shrewd detective I was.
“Good question, Ben. Really good question. That’s worth a trip back to the woods, don’t you think?”
He smiled.
“Tomorrow’s my day off, Miss Clancy. I could help you folks, if you want.”
“Hate to ask a man to work on his day off,” I said.
“Ah, it’s okay. I ain’t got nothin’ goin’ on anyhow. Youinses might need an extra set of eyes and ears. Woods are getting thicker by the degrees this time of year. Might find something. You never know.”
“What about Walt?” I said.
“Naw, he has to work tomorrow. Besides that, Sheriff Murdock was all over his case for helping you guys.”
“Even though we found Starnes nearly dead,” I said.
“Yeah, Sheriff Murdock has some strange ways. Not sure what’s goin’ on inside that man. I don’t think he caters to Miss Carver too much.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that myself.”
Ben stood to go.
“Hope Sam is going to be okay,” he said.
“Thanks, Ben. Gimme your cell number and I’ll call you about tomorrow. I need to check with Rosey.”
He told me his number and I punched it into my cell phone. I put BB in the name slot.
“I’ll be glad to help. I can bring some bigger guns, if need be. You know, just in case.”
“Yeah, just in case.”
52
Sam and I were home a little before nine. I had missed supper so hunger was an issue for me. I didn’t mind because of my concern for Sam. There was a cold sandwich waiting on me.
Sam walked slowly into the house and collapsed beside my bed on a throw rug. I doubt if he would have any trouble sleeping through the night.
The vet had cleaned his wounds and had given him several stitches on some of the deeper gashes he had found. Some wounds were not severe enough to merit sewing. He had lost a tooth in his battle, but that didn’t seem to bother him too much. The vet said he needed some food and plenty of rest. Limit his excitement and skirmishes.
“He crossed from Gabriel’s Creek to Laurel Ridge?” Rosey said. “How on earth did he find his way from there to here? This is not even his home.”
Starnes said nothing. I think she was waiting on me to answer.
I chewed my sandwich while I searched for something that might make sense. I knew Sam to be an above average dog of intelligence. In fact, I knew Sam to be more than just above average. He was downright brilliant and had been since the first day he came to me. Besides having a working vocabulary of several hundred words, he had an intuitive sense about him that defied any logic I could explain. I had known of his sense of direction prior to this, but I hadn’t even considered him traveling across McAdams County simply because of the terrain and the situation in which we were involved.
I should have given myself more hope of his prowess and courage.
“Well, are you going to answer?” Starnes said. “Are you avoiding telling us some surprise like with Rogers and what she is capable of? Is Sam some extraterrestrial being that only looks like a dog?”
“Yeah, that’s it. I like that one. ET and his coming home.”
I chewed my sandwich and drank some hot tea.
“I’ve heard of dogs walking thousands of miles, so it’s not that far-fetched,” Rosey said. “It’s
just that, well, I had no idea that Sam had such a keen sense of direction about him. What with him being injured and all, probably dehydrated as well, I am amazed that he found us.”
“I’m more amazed that he fought this killer and survived.”
“I owe him my life,” Starnes said. “However he made it from there to here, I can live with not knowing. He’s my champion, so, he shall always receive the benefit of the doubt with me. And you can take that to the bank.”
I finished my sandwich and wished that I had another one.
I told them about my conversation with Ben and his offer of help if we returned to the woods of Gabriel’s Creek. I also told them what he had asked about Sam injuring the animal.
“You feel like driving?” I said to Starnes.
“Where to?”
“Lab in Asheville.”
“With those blood samples the vet took from Sam, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Beats returning to the woods. Not up for that yet. I’ll go to Asheville.”
“Dog and Sam be okay here alone?” I said.
“I think they’ll do okay,” Starnes said. “Besides, I won’t be gone that long. There and back, maybe an hour and some change. I won’t be waiting around for the results.”
It was cloudy the next morning. Friday. The clouds were high in the sky so there was no ground fog to inhibit our vision. It was cold, as in a wintertime cold. Starnes headed off to the lab. Rosey and I drove back to Gabriel’s Creek to do some tracking. I called Ben and he said he’d meet us at our agreed upon spot.
Ben was waiting on us when we arrived. I laughed when Rosey and I drove up. Ben looked like a friend of Rambo. He had twin cartridge belts crisscrossing his front and back. He was wearing duel pistols along with a automatic rifle strapped over his shoulder. I spotted a knife in his boot. The handle was longer than most knives I had ever used, so I suspected that it was some type of combat knife used to hunt mysterious monsters in the woods.
“You ready for battle?” I said to him.
“Yes ma’am. I ain’t takin’ no chances with this thing. I plan to get off a few rounds. It might get me in the end, but I intend to do some serious hurt to it before that happens.”
“You want to follow us or lead the way?” I said to Ben.
“I’ll be the scout. I’ll lead. You two can take your time lookin’ for whatever it is you’re lookin’ for.”
The three of us set out. Rambo was in the lead. I followed him and Rosey brought up the rear. He had insisted that I stay in between them. Macho and sexist. I had no problem with his positioning of me. I had no desire to end up attached to a tree like Starnes. Besides that, Rosey was the last person I could ever really accuse of attacking my gender.
Thirty minutes later we were at the open clearing where we had found Starnes. Rosey and Ben policed that scene for any trace that might help us connect the dots. I assigned myself to the spot where Dog had been found, back down the trail a short distance from the two men. We all were sporting latex gloves along with small plastic self-closing bags by orders of Starnes Carver who was probably happy that she could not come with us, and yet frustrated at the same time. My opinion was that her stamina was going to be fully tested with a short road trip to Asheville just to deliver the blood samples the vet had taken from Sam.
I found some hair samples in the ditch where Dog had been found. The samples didn’t match Dog’s blend of colors or texture. Dog had a mixture of black, brown, and grey. The samples I had found in the ditch were much coarser than Dog’s coat. They were also a different shade of gray.
I also found several blood samples in and around the ditch where Dog was injured. I was hoping that at least one of the samples might provide yet another lead and not take us back in the direction of Dog.
“You two find anything around here?” I said as I approached my companions who seemed to be busy in their search for something.
“Some blood and a couple of teeth,” Rosey said.
“Teeth, as in plural?”
“Yep. Two teeth, different. Bagged ’em separately. Starnes would be proud.”
“Indignant if you had bagged them together,” I said.
“Give me some credit,” Rosey said.
“I found this,” Ben said holding up a shiny object.
Ben was working across the clearing from where I was standing with Rosey. I couldn’t tell what it was. Eyes are not what they used to be. Nothing is.
“What is it?” I said as I walked over to him.
“Appears to be a key of some sort,” Ben said.
“Any writing or numbers on it?” I said.
“No, ma’am. Just a plain, silver key. Looks kinda new, if you ask me,” he said as he handed it me. I took hold of it with my index finger and thumb. I still had my gloves on.
“Could be anybody’s, but we’ll take it. Might turn out to be the object that solves the mystery.”
I took a bag and placed the key inside.
“Or not,” Rosey said bringing some reality back to the situation.
“You have absolutely no imagination for crime solving, Mr. Washington,” I said.
“True, but I’m good to have around in a pinch.”
53
Rosey cooked supper for us. Starnes was exhausted from her excursion to the Asheville lab and was resting on the couch in the living room. I offered to help Rosey, but he refused without hesitation. I think neither one of them wanted me anywhere near the stove. We had invited Ben to join our dinner party and he more than gladly accepted. Starnes wasn’t too thrilled with our invitation to one of her day workers. It was that old mixing of business and pleasure crap that some folks avoid like terrorists, viruses, and politicians. I was never one to subscribe to such thinking. I figured that if I could work with a person, I could also be friends with them in my off time. In fact, I enjoyed my friendship with Starnes and Rosey as well as that old coot named Wineski back in Norfolk. Some people are just fun to have around no matter what the occasion.
Ben Bevel was growing on me. Starnes was of a different mind-set. I had the impression that Starnes knew that Ben had some infatuation with her. She’s more intuitive than she ever admits.
We ate in the kitchen since that was the only dining table in the small house. The four of us made it crowded. Sam and Dog stayed together in Dog’s room, which was also Starnes’ room. Sam had decided that he should spend more time with Dog, a decision he had reached just today. Dog seemed to appreciate the company during her convalescing.
The four of us were laughing and otherwise enjoying our after dinner conversation at the table when the house phone rang. No one moved when it first rang. I looked at Starnes and she pointed to me and then to the phone. I got her drift.
“The Carver residence,” I said, trying to sound official.
Like the maid or some such personage employed herein.
“Clancy Evans, that sounds like you,” the woman’s voice said to me. “This is Eula Robertson. I got something to tell you.”
“Hello Mrs. Robertson. How are you?”
“Old, that’s how I am. And getting older. I’ve got a birthday upcoming and I ain’t none too happy about it, forgive my grammar. But what’s a body to do? I’ll be ninety-five if I live another week. Ain’t that something?”
“Consider the alternative,” I said.
“You mean to birthdays? Why, child, I’ve been thinking about dying for more than ten years. Once you out live your usefulness, what’s the point? I’ll never best that Guinness Book record for age, and I get more feeble with each passing year. So, I repeat, what’s the point? This modern technology or science or whatever you wanna call it, hasn’t done me any favors, and that’s a fact. But lookie here, I didn’t call you to complain about aging and all the wonders of growing old. I called to tell you something I remembered.”
“I’m listening, Eula. Good to hear your voice,” I said, trying to sound cheerful for her.
“Yeah, I can imagine that you
and that handsome dude that came to see me are just sitting around waiting to hear from me, desperately wanting my voice to come calling on you. Get a life, child. Anyhow, I called to tell you that Hack Ponder was a substitute teacher for me back in 1984. I just heard that he was killed in his store recently. That’s why his name came to me after you both had left. We don’t get the news too fast up here at the manor. Pony Express delivers such, so speed is not one of the options. Never mind that … Hack was a sub back then and the only reason I remember that it happened in 1984 was that I was out a whole week. Sick as a dog. Only time in my whole career that I missed that many days in a row. Had some type of food poisoning or something. Hack Ponder came into that class for that whole week I was out, and almost caused a riot.”
“Tell me more,” I said.
“Well, I think Hack Ponder was going through a mid-life crisis back then. And that’s funny. It’s funny because for many of us, Hack Ponder was going through a mid-life crisis almost every year of his life. He had this thing for tall women. Always has. Must’ve been some kind of fetish or addiction.”
“Yeah, I ran into that.”
“Oh, that’s right. You are kinda tall, aren’t you. Yeah, so you met Hack?”
“Briefly. I was charmed, to be sure.”
“I bet you were charmed. Man was disgusting in every possible way, even when he was young. How on earth the school board allowed him to be a substitute teacher is beyond me… no, wait…I remember now. He had family on the school board. And his politics were right. Yep, that’s how it happened. Anyhow, Hack was the sub for the whole week while I was out.”
“What’d he do?”
“Well, the story is somewhat confusing simply because of Hack Ponder being Hack Ponder and his relatives running things around the county. Anyhow, he made a pass at one of the students during that week.”
“K.C. Starling,” I said.
“You guessed it. She wasn’t the only one. I had another girl in that class who was not quite as tall as K.C. Her name was Dolly Mae or Dolly Faye or Dolly something. I don’t know why I can’t ever recall that child’s name. She didn’t stand out like some of the other kids. Lost track of her. Anyhow, Hack made a pass at both of my tall girls. I think they were both six graders at the time, if you can imagine such a thing.”
Outcast In Gray: A Clancy Evans Mystery (Clancy Evans PI Book 7) Page 26