Blue Ridge Breeze

by Ed Robinson

  “I don’t know enough about you,” he said. “But you’ve had quite the impact since showing up here. The FBI connection is curious. Who are you, exactly?”

  “I’m just a Florida boat bum,” I answered. “Trying to make a new life in the mountains.”

  “Witness protection?”

  “No, man,” I said. “Nothing like that. Breeze is my real name.”

  “My boss ran your background,” he said. “Curious stuff there too.”

  “I’m good with the law,” I said. “But I’m not working for them.”

  “It would all add up if you had the kind of connections that could disgrace the Chief,” he said. “It’s almost like what you see in politics these days.”

  “I don’t follow politics,” I said. “I don’t know anyone here either, except for our neighbor, Richard.”

  “I’m not giving up on your involvement in this,” he said. “Off the record, I hope it was you who arranged it.”

  I almost winked at him. Instead, I managed just a tick of the eye. I think he picked up on it. It would be good to have the state police on my side, at least in spirit.

  “What’s your boss’s take on the issue,” I asked.

  “He’s above these small town departments,” he said. “Half these Chiefs and Sheriffs think they’re Buford T. Justice. Our outfit is the least corrupt in western North Carolina. The Commander is more of a politician than a cop these days. He makes sure we get the resources we need, protects our pay and benefits, and has our backs when we need him. He’s got good men that he trusts to keep things running smoothly on the street. When some podunk cop goes afoul of the law, it pisses him off, but mostly he doesn’t have time for it.”

  “So he knew what kind of man the Chief was, but didn’t get involved?”

  “It’s not like that,” he said. “The Chief wasn’t really on his radar until the Shook thing.”

  “Will he get involved now that the public is in an uproar?”

  “Only if he’s asked to,” he said. “But then the Chief will have real problems. My boss doesn’t tolerate abuse of power from these guys if it crosses his desk. He doesn’t want to prosecute fellow cops, but if he’s forced to, it is usually bad news.”

  “We’ll see how this plays out,” I said. “Odds are good that someone will ask him to step in if the Chief doesn’t quit first.”

  “Wait, how do you know what’s going on with the Chief?”

  “It’s all over town,” I said. “Protestors at his office. People talking in the café.”

  “You know more than you’re telling me.”

  “Believe what you want,” I said.

  We wrapped up our conversation by talking about the weather. We’d have sleet and freezing rain the day before, with light snow in the forecast. Cops hated that. Rominger promised to update me if anything earth-shattering went down. I thanked him for the visit and insight. We shook hands again with mutual respect.

  “Looks like you’ve made a new friend,” Brody said.

  “We could use a friend like him,” I said. “He’s on to us though.”

  “How could he be?”

  “His boss is a sharp guy,” I said. “They’re curious about us.”

  “They’re not going to start bothering us too, are they?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “I think they’re on our side. They just can’t admit it.”

  We’d learned a lot about the effectiveness of Thompson’s campaign that day. The speed of its spread through the populace was astounding. The gossip was vicious and being spread like wildfire. Whoever held the Chief’s fate in their hands would be forced to make a move very soon. I didn’t know what the chain of command was in Banner Elk, but I was certain that the heat was on the mayor and town manager to ditch their liability. They had an image to protect. The small but wealthy population would demand the town’s reputation be protected. The ski resorts would want the matter cleaned up before their season was in full swing. The Chamber of Commerce would demand immediate action as well. It was only a matter of time.

  We got a call from Captain Fred the next day. He was back from Columbia, staying on his new yacht in Fort Myers Beach with his young wife. He’d gotten a full report from Willis Thompson.

  “You should see it on the street,” he said. “It’s a maelstrom of doom.”

  “We see it,” I said. “Pretty amazing if you’re on the good side of it.”

  “Roll with it, boy,” he said. “That cop will be out of your hair in no time.”

  “What’s next?”

  “It seems the mayor has abdicated the hiring and firing duties to the town manager,” he said. “It took a while to figure that out, but he’ll be getting pressure from all over within a day.”

  “So it’s a foregone conclusion?”

  “If you had a television, you’d see everyone with a name plaque on their desk calling for the Chief to be fired over the next few days. It will be on the news in Charlotte, Bristol, and Asheville within twenty-four hours.”

  “Good Lord, Fred,” I said. “The power of this thing is downright scary.”

  “I won’t allow anyone to threaten my friends,” he said. “Cop or not. He’s getting what he deserves.”

  “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” I said. “And never get on your bad side.”

  “I’m hanging out here until this thing is settled,” he said. “I’ll call when he gets the ax.”

  “Thanks, Fred.”

  Ten

  The next day, a car I didn’t recognize came down the drive. At first, I was relieved that it wasn’t a cop car, but then the Chief stepped out. He stood on the gravel below the porch, yelling up at the cabin.

  “Come out here,” he demanded. “Don’t be a fucking coward.”

  I was a lot of things, but one thing I was not was a fucking coward. I put my shoes on while the Chief continued ranting in my driveway. He wasn’t in uniform. I didn’t see a sidearm, but he could have been carrying concealed. On the surface, it looked like he wanted a man to man confrontation.

  “Be careful, Breeze,” Brody said. “He sounds like a desperate man.”

  “I got this.”

  I walked straight towards the man, showing no fear. I tried to gauge his intent by his body language. I sensed he wanted a fight, which made no sense considering the predicament he was in.

  “What have you done to me, you asshole?” he shouted. “You’ve ruined my life.”

  “I didn’t do a damned thing,” I said. “What are you carrying on about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about,” he said. “You’re behind all of it. It’s all bullshit.”

  “If you can’t keep your cool, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” I said.

  “Not until I kick your ass,” he said.

  “You don’t want to go there,” I warned. “I’m serious. Get in your car and go home.”

  That’s when he made his move. It wasn’t much. He swung a wide right hand, which I easily avoided. I gave him a quick jab to the face as he staggered by me.

  “That all you got?” he asked, putting both fists up in front of him.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” I said. “But I will if you continue.”

  “Fuck you,” he said, before charging me.

  I ducked down low and took out his legs when he reached me. He hit the ground hard. Before he could gain his feet, I bashed his chin and nose with four hard punches. His nose poured blood, and he had a hard time standing up. I let him stand, coaxing him to give up. He swayed back and forth, barely able to stand.

  “This isn’t going to go well for you, Chief,” I said. “It won’t look good either. Aren’t you in enough trouble?”

  “I got nothing else to lose,” he said. “Let’s settle this here and now.”

  “Poor choice,” I said. “You’ll need an ambulance to leave here, and I don’t have a phone.”

  The Chief was not a hard man. His scuffles had involved his sidearm, nightstick and t
he support of his fellow officers. I’d been in more bare-knuckle scrapes than I cared to remember. I’d been confronted by men who would have been happy to break my neck if they got the chance. I’d fought for my life more than once. The Chief was out of his league, even if he was a few years younger than I.

  He didn’t charge a second time. He came in slowly, with his fists in front of his face. I was in no mood to box him in accordance with the Queensberry Rules. I struck a solid sidekick to his kneecap, sending him down. As he got to all fours, I used a knee to knot his forehead. He rolled onto his back and looked at the stars.

  “Had enough?” I asked.

  “Help me up,” he said, reaching a hand towards me.

  This was a ruse as old as the playground. I didn’t fall for it.

  “Help yourself, jackass,” I said, stepping back a few feet.

  Brody yelled down from the porch.

  “Keep your cool, Breeze,” she warned. “The fight is over. Don’t hurt him any more than you have to.”

  “You hear that, Chief?” I asked. “How bad do you want to be hurt?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “My life is already over, thanks to you.”

  “You brought it on yourself,” I said. “Like you’re doing right now. You should give up on both counts. You’re beaten.”

  His anger was renewed. He’d had a few seconds to clear his head. He came in for more. I let him take a few swings that I blocked or deflected. There wasn’t much zip in his punches. He was breathing hard, and blood continued to run from his nose. I wasn’t sure how to end it without messing him up too badly until he opened himself up to a swift kick to the crotch. He rolled up in the fetal position and cried, uncle.

  “I’m out,” he said. “That’s enough.”

  “If you ever come back here, I’ll show no such mercy,” I said. “Quit the force. Move away from here.”

  He moaned in agony, still curled up in a ball on the ground. I turned and walked up the driveway. I went inside and got my pistol, in case he recovered and changed his mind. I watched him from the porch until he managed to crawl to his car and drive away.

  “He wasn’t much of a fighter,” Brody said. “Fortunately.”

  “He was foolish to come here,” I said. “A different man might have messed him up badly.”

  “I’m proud of your restraint,” she said. “You managed it well.”

  We were interrupted by the ring of the SAT phone. It was Captain Fred.

  “The town manager is going to demand the Chief’s resignation tomorrow,” he said. “The mayor’s got heat on him from all quarters.”

  “Bet on the Chief quitting,” I said. “He was just here looking for a fight. Didn’t go well for him.”

  “You didn’t beat the man up, did you?” he asked.

  “Hardly,” I said. “I only defended myself.”

  “What if he comes back with his whole force to arrest you for assault?”

  “He drove his personal car and wore street clothes,” I said. “He wanted it man to man.”

  “And you gave it to him good and hard.”

  “Exactly.”

  “It should end in the next day or two,” he said. “He’ll be fired if he doesn’t agree to resign.”

  “You have my thanks, as always,” I said. “I believe this puts me back in your debt.”

  “Just a friend helping a friend,” he said. “But if something comes up, I may call you on it.”

  “Not a problem,” I said. “Talk to you soon.”

  There was nothing left to do but wait. In the meantime, we concentrated on the defense of our cabin. Brody made sure our weapons were ready. We stationed extra ammo in strategic locations. Our front door opened onto the porch, which was high above the ground. We slid the kitchen stove in front of the back door. I double checked all the window locks before placing dressers and other furniture in front of possible points of entry. The walls were thick logs that would easily stop small caliber bullets. It would take many men and some serious firepower to get to us, much more than the Chief could muster on short notice. After all that had been said about him lately, I doubted he had many friends that would be willing to join him in an attack on our home.

  No one came that night, but we left our battle defenses in place throughout the next day. Down in Banner Elk, the chief had been asked to resign. We wouldn’t know exactly what happened until someone on the outside told us. We thought it would be Captain Fred, but it turned out to be Rominger. I saw his car coming down the drive and pushed the stove out of the way of the back door. He pulled up behind our car and got out smiling.

  “In case you haven’t heard,” he said. “The Chief has agreed to resign.”

  “That’s good news,” I said. “I had intel that it was about to happen.”

  “No doubt,” he said. “Which proves what I said before. You made it happen, didn’t you?”

  “Not me, exactly,” I said. “But I have friends.”

  “Remind me not to cross you,” he said. “Especially if we’re going to be working together on occasion.”

  “Say what?”

  “The Commander says he’d be willing to use you for special cases,” he said. “Big money for a few day’s work when the situation arises.”

  “I don’t need the money,” I told him.

  “Maybe not,” he said. “But I’m guessing you need the juice, if you know what I mean.”

  “I’ll admit that the last two deals up here got my blood pumping,” I said. “But we came here to avoid drama.”

  “So we’ll leave you alone to enjoy your peaceful holler,” he said. “But we’ll come calling if we need you. You can decide if you want to help.”

  “Fair enough,” I said.

  The Chief’s resignation was good news. When I went back inside, Brody was on the phone with Captain Fred, getting a full report. I had a gut feeling that it wasn’t fully over. As long as the Chief was around, there would be the possibility that he’d try to take revenge. We’d have to stay aware and protect ourselves until he was gone for good. I relayed my concerns to Brody after she hung up.

  “You don’t mean the whole Fort Knox security deal we’ve got going on here do you?” she asked.

  “No, but keep the doors locked,” I said. “Keep our eyes open. Stay alert.”

  “Locked and loaded,” she said. “Situational awareness is the way of life.”

  “Hopefully he’ll move away from here,” I said. “Far away.”

  “That would be ideal,” she agreed. “What did your cop friend want?”

  “He wants to be able to hire me when needed,” I said. “His boss okayed good money for a few day’s work here and there, in special circumstances.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I didn’t express much enthusiasm,” I said. “But I agreed to consider it on a case by case basis.”

  “You’ll answer the call the first time they ask,” she said.

  “Would you approve of that?”

  “You need more to do than chopping wood,” she said. “You need an outlet for your special set of skills. Your unique resourcefulness is wasted sitting around here doing nothing.”

  “I expected you to object,” I said. “That’s why I didn’t agree wholeheartedly.”

  “You don’t limit a thoroughbred to giving pony rides,” she said. “If there’s a potential for you to do good around here, I say you follow up on it.”

  “Your excellence as a partner never ceases to amaze me,” I said.

  “I’m in awe of your qualities as a man,” she said. “Your talents are hard to quantify, but they make you special.”

  “Nothing like a lovefest at Creekside Cabin,” I said. “Thanks, Brody.”

  “Thank you for this life, Breeze,” she said. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

  We didn’t hear from the Chief or about the Chief for a long time. We went about the business of finding solitude in our mountain cabin. The creek continued to babble by. T
he deer came to visit often enough that I bought some corn to spread out for them. We had our first real snow storm in early December. I dressed up like an Eskimo to shovel out the car and surrounding walkways. Our neighbor, Richard, fired up his tractor and plowed the driveways and the gravel road up to the Pigeon Roost Road. I kept splitting wood and stacking it on the porch. We burned it almost as fast as I could cut it. Our blood was still thin from living in Florida for so long. I teased Brody about it, but secretly I was just as cold.

  It was January before I heard from Rominger again. I was splitting wood at the bottom of our property when he pulled up in his police cruiser. My hands were cold, and each blow with my ax was stinging. I was happy to sit in his car and warm up for a few minutes.

  “Mountain living comes with necessary chores,” he said.

  “Got to keep the little woman warm,” I said. “This was a lot easier during the summer.”

  “Lesson learned,” he said. “Get what you need split and stored before it gets cold.”

  “I didn’t realize how much we needed,” I admitted. “I was lucky to get this delivered so late in the season.”

  He cranked the heater fan up and told me to feel free to warm my hands. I accepted.

  “So, we have us a little poaching problem on Grandfather Mountain,” he said. “You interested?”

  “Don’t you have game wardens for that sort of thing?”

  “We have the Wildlife Resources Commission,” he said. “They have all the authority of a regular police officer. In some cases, they have more.”

  “Sounds like their responsibility to me,” I said.

  “The problem is the area we’re talking about,” he began. “Grandfather is wild and rugged away from the tourist area, impossible terrain. Some hikers found several piles of deer remains in different spots. They’d been butchered on the spot, and the meat hauled out.”

  “Hikers?”

  “Not your average day trippers,” he said. “Extreme climber dudes. These people come from all over to try to tackle Grandfather.”

  “Wilderness adventure types,” I said.

  “Not hippies, that’s for sure,” he said. “Athletes.”

  “So your WRC guys can’t deal with the conditions?” I asked.