Banner Elk Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  “They probably spend most of their time in the woods,” I said. “Just sleep here, have a few beers before the next day’s hunt.”

  “I can picture three or four good old boys sitting around a fire out here,” she said. “Chewing tobacco and lying about their sexual conquests.”

  “Murica!” I said. “Guns and alcohol and pickup trucks.”

  Back at the cabin I sat on the porch and thought things through, trying to regroup. In the past, I’d always been quick-witted in unusual situations. I never had a plan, I just winged it and hoped for the best. I was fast on my feet and ready to improvise no matter what was thrown my way. I was out of touch with living dangerously, and out of practice. I was also a step slower, and more averse to pain. When life didn’t really matter much, I’d dive right in and take my lumps. Now my life with Brody was great. I didn’t want to put myself in a position to cause myself harm or screw up what we had together. I certainly wanted to make sure that she remained free from harm.

  I needed to take a step back and rearrange my thoughts on this one. I’d crashed and burned my way into someplace that no one thought I belonged. I’d pushed the Sheriff until he dismissed me completely. I didn’t make friends with Bowdich from the FBI and now we could use his help. I tried to come at the problem from a different angle. I wasn’t having much luck running into Banner on my own. Who knew him? Who knew how I could find him without raising unnecessary suspicion? I thought about the police chief down in Banner Elk. He’d passed on some preliminary information to the Sheriff concerning Banner. His department was aware of Banner’s existence, and my claim that he was a killer. It wasn’t up to them to solve the crime, but maybe they had more information that I could use. I decided to go to town the next day to talk to the chief.

  When we first moved to the mountains I didn’t like going to town. We were up at four-thousand feet and well-secluded. I didn’t have to deal with people. It was peaceful and safe. Now it seemed driving down the mountain was an everyday occurrence. I’d much rather be hiking up in the woods.

  The chief didn’t throw us out. He seemed curious about our continued involvement. He likely had seen our background checks as well. His curiosity got the best of him and he agreed to sit down with us for a few minutes.

  “I’m simply trying to put together some more information on Cody Banner,” I told him. “I’m not asking you to interfere in someone else’s investigation.”

  “I hear there is no investigation,” he said. “I can’t change that for you. I shouldn’t even be talking to you, but I think you’re trying to do the right thing. I’ve got an officer here who grew up with Banner. They went to high school together. I’ll ask him if he wants to speak with you, but it can’t be on the department’s time or dime.”

  “I understand,” I said. “That would be great. I appreciate it.”

  “You didn’t get this information from me,” he said. “Any conversations will have to take place away from this property or any of my patrol cars.”

  “Strictly unofficial,” I said. “Just two guys having a chat. Not police business.”

  “Exactly,” he said. “If he agrees, I’ll send him up to your place after his shift.”

  “We’ll go home and wait,” I said. “Thanks, Chief.”

  Officer Holloway pulled down the drive in a Ford pickup just after dinner. He was in civilian clothes. He had a flat-top haircut under his Appalachian State ball cap. He was fit and strong looking but moved with an easy grace. He looked very much like a cop. We shook hands and Brody brought all of us a beer. He accepted with a southern thank you, ma’am.

  “Thanks for agreeing to talk with us,” I said. “I know it may seem a strange request.”

  “I probably know Cody as well as anyone,” he said. “At least I used to, but part of why I’m here is really an off-the-books message from the chief.”

  “He doesn’t want me poking around in local business?” I asked.

  “It’s not that really,” he said. “Just wants you to know what you’re getting mixed up in.”

  “My guess is that Banner is connected somehow,” I said. “So nobody wants to go after him.”

  “Bingo,” he said. “Connected and then some, but his connections are growing tenuous. Something like this might break through it all.”

  “Who is protecting him?” I asked.

  “It’s a double whammy,” he explained. “His father is a big man around here. Developer, investor, civic associations. He’s responsible for most everything that’s been built around here over the past couple decades. He’s got a stake in the resorts, golf courses, and the airport.”

  “Yet his son lives in a dumpy trailer and drives a rusty truck,” I said.

  “His father may be rich,” he said. “But he came by it honestly. Started out building one house at a time down in the valley. He’s earned everything he’s ever gotten. That’s what he wanted for Cody. He won’t support him financially.”

  “But he’ll make the law stand down when his boy gets into trouble.”

  “He doesn’t even have to make them do anything,” he said. “It’s just because of who he is. Everyone wants to stay in his good graces. His grandfather is a different story, though.”

  “The double whammy,” I said.

  “Right. Granddad is a career politician,” he said. “He’s been the state senator for these parts for like a hundred years. These counties up here in this part of the state are his kingdom.”

  “And he’ll strong arm anyone messing with his grandson,” I said.

  “He’d outright ruin them,” he said. “The reason he never ran for federal office is all the corruption that he gets away with here. He’d rather be a big fish in a little pond. He pulls most of the strings from here to Charlotte.”

  “You said Banner’s relationship with his father and grandfather were strained?”

  “They always backed him whatever dumb thing he did,” he said. “When we were teenagers he was constantly in trouble. Always had a tendency towards violence and destruction. He got in deep eventually. The judge was persuaded to advise him to enlist rather than go to jail. His father delivered him to a recruiter’s office the next day. Thought it would do him good.”

  “But he got kicked out of the army.”

  “That’s where it started to go downhill between him and his dad,” he said. “It embarrassed him in the community. Granddad was unfazed. He’s a different breed from a different time. Kind of a high country mafia figure.”

  “High country mafia?” I asked. “Can’t say that I’ve ever heard that phrase.”

  “It’s one of my own,” he said. “But you know what I mean. Boss Hogg. Buford Pusser.”

  “The ultimate law is the grandfather.”

  “Correct,” he said. “Cody does enough kissing the ring to make the old man happy. Takes him venison and shine. Helps around the yard.”

  “Is all of this intended to discourage me?”

  “Vigilante justice is a tough business for an outsider,” he said. “No one will support you, no matter how right you are.”

  “So we all just live with a killer in our midst?”

  “We can’t do anything,” he said. “Maybe you can. It might wake granddaddy up. It would likely relieve his father. Cody is a menace. He’s also smart and tough. I recommend you think long and hard before proceeding.”

  “Will the law come after me if I ruffle some feathers?” I asked.

  “The Chief won’t,” he said. “That’s part of why I’m here. Can’t say the same for that Sheriff, or even the state boys.”

  “State troopers?”

  “All conscripted by the Senator,” he warned. “Watch your back.”

  “Christ,” I said. “Thanks for the warning, I guess. Doesn’t sound too promising.”

  “Just keeping it real for you,” he said. “You’re not in Florida anymore.”

  I got myself a shot of Tennessee whiskey and another beer after he left. I paced the cabin, absorbing
all the new information that told me the obstacles were insurmountable. I was way out of my league with this one. I’d once delved into the legal and political system in Florida, but this was beyond my resources. I didn’t have my old benefactor, Captain Fred, to rely on. I didn’t know any of the players, not even Banner. If I’d have caught him on video murdering Pop it probably still wouldn’t matter.

  “What do you think, Brody?”

  “I think you bit off more than you can chew,” she said. “I also think that won’t stop you from blundering on.”

  “I do not blunder,” I said. “At least not anymore.”

  “What can we do?” she asked. “Our hands are tied.”

  “There are roadblocks, I’ll give you that,” I said. “We go around. Locks are made to be broken and all that. There’s got to be a way.”

  “Let me know when you find it,” she said. “I support you, but I don’t see what else we can do.”

  “Me neither,” I admitted. “Not yet, but I’ll think of something.”

  A little devil appeared on my left shoulder and told me I should just execute Pop’s killer.

  “You’re good with that rifle,” he said. “He won’t know what hit him and it will all be over with.

  A little angel appeared on my right shoulder.

  “Thou shall not kill,” she said. “You are not a killer.”

  Except that I had been a killer. I killed a man with my bare hands. It was a very intense and personal thing. I’d lost my humanity long enough to take another man’s life. I’d become an animal. When I regained my sanity the realization of what I’d done crushed my soul. I hadn’t sought out the conflict. I was challenged by a younger man wanting to dethrone me as leader of the pack. I defended myself but didn’t stop at that. I made him pay for his transgression. I made him pay with his life. What I’d done disturbed me so badly I dedicated my life to helping others. I tried to do enough good to even the scales of karmic justice. Brody had helped me tremendously in that quest. Together we’d spread goodwill and charity from Florida to Puerto Rico to the Virgin Islands. Every good thing that happened to me I turned into a way to pay it forward. I learned to be unselfish and to appreciate truly helping others. I learned to be kind.

  Killing Banner now would erase my good deeds and doom me to a life in hell or worse. I needed a way to penetrate his force field of political protection, but I couldn’t take on the Watauga County Sheriff, the State Police, and a senator. I was a simple boat bum, now floundering in the mountains. If I tried to forget it ever happened, I knew that it would ruin our new life here. I had to find a way through this so that we could then live happily ever after. But how?

  I thought back to my early days in Florida. My pretty lawyer lady had gotten herself involved in corruption. She developed a team of judges and politicians that were easily bribed in an effort to advance her career. When things went sour for her, she threatened to expose me as someone who benefited from her bribery, which was true. I couldn’t go to prison, so I turned on her. What followed was ugly and sordid. At the same time, I’d set up a fake PAC to influence an upcoming election. Three friends and a laptop convinced south Florida that I was a powerful political player, with lots of shadow money behind me. Of course, the money didn’t exist, but our PAC raised a ton of cash in support of the Clean Water Movement. I used an alter-ego to singlehandedly convince one of the good guys to run for office in support of our platform. Looking back, it was pretty heady stuff. Could I do something like that again?

  I knew that the FBI investigated the types of political corruption hinted at by Holloway, but if various law enforcement agencies were cowed by Banner’s grandfather, I certainly couldn’t make an impact. I didn’t even know if the old man was a Republican or a Democrat. I had no idea exactly what kinds of crimes he may have committed. In order to do some research, we’d need a computer and a service provider. We’d moved here with the intent to leave the digital world behind. I’d get Brody to see if the Avery County Library could give us computer access.

  Then there was Cody Banner himself. If I got to know him, could I record him incriminating himself in Pop’s murder? If so, would that be enough? Where did the man work? Where did he hang out beside the hunting cabin? What kind of social setting could I create in order to befriend him?

  I continued working through the multi-layered challenge in front of me. I ran one scenario after another through my mind, not settling on anything solid. Brody left me alone to contemplate. She probably saw smoke coming out of my ears and knew not to disturb my cranky mind at work. I needed her involved though. She was the computer whiz and the one with a direct line to the FBI. She was also just as smart, if not smarter, than I.

  “What do you think if I become buddies with Banner?” I asked her.

  “How do you intend to do that?”

  “We know he drinks beer,” I said. “He loves to hunt. I can be a beer drinking hunter that lives on the other side of the mountain. Get invited to his camp. Invite him over here. Go out into the woods together.”

  “In order to accomplish what?” she asked.

  “Get him talking,” I said. “Record him admitting to murder.”

  “Before you do that,” she said. “I need to tell you something. I called David again. They won’t come to get the bullet, but they’ll test it if we get it to them. Find out if it has Pop’s DNA, or Banner’s or both.”

  “If we collect it and take it to the FBI it will be worthless as evidence,” I said.

  “It’s probably already worthless,” she said. “Stuck in a tree for so long.”

  “Maybe the tree protected it from the elements,” I suggested.

  “So now we’re back to digging the thing out, take care not to contaminate it any further, and get it to D.C.”

  “Do you think Bowdich might apply some pressure on the Sheriff if the bullet is positive for Pop’s DNA?”

  “I can’t say what he might do,” she said. “But we’re spinning wheels right now. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Let’s go back up there tomorrow.”

  If felt good to be back in the woods. We were both well-rested for the climb and fed up with dealing with the cops. We basked in the earthy smells and all the sights and sounds of the mountain. We enjoyed the time together and took pleasure in the hike, until we closed in on the weed farm. It was time to get serious again. We went through our safety procedure and secured the area. Someone had been up there. Footprints were scattered in the dirt between the rocks, especially near the pot plants. I assumed Banner had come to check on his crop. We both listened intently for sounds of movement in the direction of his camp but heard nothing.

  I pulled our ladder out of the weeds and Brody helped me lug it over to the tree in question. She unslung the rifle and stood guard while I went up and located what we hoped was our bullet. I had a small ax and a good hunting knife to extricate it with, assuming it wasn’t very deep in the trunk. I hacked and dug until the hole was big enough to peer into. I could see the backside of a rifle round. It was deep enough to present a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Before I got too close I put on latex gloves. I had tweezers in a plastic bag in my pocket. We had boiled the tweezers and wiped them down thoroughly. I hacked and dug a little more. Finally, I put the tweezers in the hole and grasped the bullet. It wouldn’t budge. I tried working it back and forth but that was hopeless. I went back to the ax, and then the knife.

  I resorted to using the ax as a hammer and the knife as a chisel to be more exact. The knife would need a good turn on a grindstone when I was done, but that was the least of my worries. I also had to be careful not to scratch the damn thing. We may need it to undergo ballistics testing. I couldn’t mar its natural striations. The tree itself was an old growth elm. The wood was hard, but not like oak. A few of its leaves had begun to turn. There was a light blanket of them on the ground below. Beads of sweat popped out on my brow and dripped into my eyes. Working from the ladder didn’t make it any easier. I’d b
ashed an ugly and obvious scar into the tree just under where a big branch met the trunk.

  I made the hole big enough to get the knife wedged in between the bullet and the tree. I cut and jabbed and wiggled all around it until it was loose. Using the tweezers, I gently tugged it out of its resting place and plopped it into the tweezer bag. We had it. I was coming down when I got a warning from Brody.

  “Someone’s coming,” she whispered. “Move.”

  I watched as she assumed a prone position behind a rock, aiming the rifle towards the approaching sounds. I scrambled down and lowered the ladder as quietly as I could.

  “Go, go,” she urged.

  I dragged the ladder thirty feet or so until it was in tall grass. I checked to make sure I was in possession of all of my tools.

  “Come on,” I whispered back to her. “Let’s beat it.”

  I hadn’t heard a thing. I’d been too busy concentrating on the bullet. Thank God Brody was alert. We rushed down over the first ridge until we made the cover of the thicker trees. Unless the intruder walked far enough to look down this side of the hill, he couldn’t see us. We slowed our movements and picked our way deeper into concealment.

  “Is it Banner,” whispered Brody.

  “Can’t really tell,” I answered. “Doesn’t matter. Move carefully and quietly. Just get lower down the mountain. I’ve got your six.”

  We managed to extract ourselves without being detected. I worried about the fresh open wound on the tree that I’d created. I worried that the ladder wasn’t concealed well enough, but there’d been no time. I’d done what I could. We maintained our noise discipline all the way down the mountain. Not until we approached our cabin did we speak.

  “That was a close one,” Brody said.

  “Could have been bad if you hadn’t heard him coming,” I said. “Good job.”

  “I did what you taught me,” she said. “I amped up my senses somehow. I can get better at it given enough experience.”

  “You’re awesome,” I said. “I can’t say how much I appreciate your awesomeness.”

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said. “I think I’ll keep you.”