***
Sheriff Brooks, looking weary and angered, gave Jacobs little time to step into his office and close the door before he opened the barrage. “Now what in hell is this all about at the Dam?”
Jacobs shrugged. “I tried to discuss it with you this morning. I’m running investigations and it’s my job to check around and ask questions.”
Brooks leaned forward over the desk and said sternly, “Anything that involves the Pary family you will do nothing without consulting me first. That old gal gave me pure fits this morning and Max Pary just kicked my butt a little while ago. Are you crazy?”
Jacobs snapped, “What about? All I’ve done is ask some questions. What’s so terrible about that?”
Brooks went pale. Between clinched teeth he snarled, “I want Chuck Veal to leave town today and I mean it. This is none of his business. If his brother is missing then let him go look someplace else.”
Jacobs couldn’t believe his ears. “What? You can’t run somebody out of town like that.”
“I can do what I want in this town.” Brooks pointed a noticeably shaking finger at Jacobs and added, “Now go tell him to get out of town. I swear if you go near the Pary’s place again about any of this, you’ll be looking for another job within ten minutes, do you hear me?”
Jacobs stunned but cautious, stood glaring down at the man. Something was seriously wrong and he knew it. So now, the Pary’s influence was coming to bear and nobody seemed interested in Matt’s disappearance. He reached for the badge on his shirt. He was going to call it quits. He wanted no part of a crooked cop. “I’ll tell you what, Brooks, I’ll find out what happened to Matt Veal with or without this badge.”
The phone on the Sheriff’s desk buzzed and Brooks snatched it up and barked into the receiver. “What? Do what? Are you sure? Okay. Tell him I will be out there in twenty minutes. No. Jacobs is here in my office right now and you tell that guy I will send anybody I want to send. Jacobs is off duty at the moment.”
Bill stood watching the Sheriff’s face turn three shades paler. With a touch of panic in his eyes, he hung up the phone and said, “The switchboard just got a call from Blake Squires. He thinks he’s found Matt Veal’ car.”
Jacobs leaned over and grabbed the desk for support “Where at?”
Walt shrugged. “Someplace up on beaver creek; said the car was under water. It’s probably just some old Junker somebody pushed off in the creek up there.”
Jacobs turned to leave and Brooks called, “Didn’t you just quit?”
Without slowing Jacobs said, “Let’s just call it my two weeks’ notice.”
Blake met Jacobs at the entrance to the old road that led to beaver creek. The Sheriff followed in his own patrol car. Blake climbed in the front seat then Jacobs asked, “Are you sure?”
He shrugged and said, “Catfish swam out to the car. He thinks it’s a blue Trans Am and the kid knows his cars.”
Jacobs clenched his fist and struck the steering wheel. “God, I hope this isn’t what I think.”
Blake whispered, “I hope we don’t have to find Matt’s body. I just don’t know if I can control a few people around town if that happens.”
Jacobs nodded, trying to maneuver down the narrow logging road and talk too. “I know, but we need a body to confirm a murder if that’s what happened.”
Blake pointed over his shoulder behind them. “What’s he doing out here? I told them to give you the message.”
Jacobs nodded, “I got it, but Walt is the one who passed it along to me.”
Blake shook his head. “I don’t trust that man, Bill. I don’t trust him one bit.”
The heavy police cruisers made hard work of the deeply rutted road, often dragging the chassis of the vehicle. It took 10 minutes to reach the old timber bridge at beaver creek. Catfish stood waiting in the shade of the trees. Jacobs could see that his hair was tossed and damp.
Sheriff Brooks’ unit slid to a dusty halt just behind Jacob's car. Catfish stepped over as the three men climbed out of their vehicles and said to Jacobs, “I think it’s Matt’s car. It’s a blue Trans Am.”
Brooks joined them at the front of Jacobs’ patrol car and snapped, “You think? You made us drive all the way out here because you think?”
“Show me,” Jacobs said ignoring the Sheriff’s remarks.
As the four men walked the bank of the creek, Blake said to Jacobs, “After I called, I phoned Clark over at the mill. He’s on the way with a skidder and dozer. We’ll need them to drag the car out of the water.”
Jacobs nodded. “Thanks, Blake. That’ll help. We’ve got to be sure it’s the right car!”
Sheriff Brooks asked suspiciously, “How’d you stumble into this part of the woods? This is posted property, Squires.”
Blake eyed Jacobs before turning to the Sheriff. “Veal and I own the timber rights on this property.”
Brooks stopped walking and snapped, “We’ve been all through that before, Squires. Now I want to know just what you were doing up here. This land is condemned for the beaver creek project and you were trespassing.”
Blake spun quickly and Jacobs had to grab him but it didn’t stop him from hissing at the Sheriff. “I have a certified copy of the agreement and there’s another copy in Judge Harlow’s office in Macon. I’ve requested a new verification of the court order to keep the gates open until all the trees are cleared.”
Blake’s words and actions shook the man. He knew that Jacobs’ firm hand was the only thing that held him back. Gruffly he started walking again, right past the two and up to where Catfish stood waiting at the edge of the water.
When Brooks was out of earshot, Jacobs whispered, “Take it easy, Blake. He’s crazy now. I think Max Pary got hold of him.”
When they reached the spot where the Sheriff and Catfish waited, Brooks looked at Catfish and asked, “How did you just happen to find the car? Were you out for a nice cool dip in the creek and stumped your toe on the bumper?”
Catfish replied, “Old Ed Barton, the trapper, told us about it.”
Brooks was not buying any of it. He eyed Catfish. “I’ll talk with Barton and we’ll see about that.”
The intimidation was plain enough and Jacobs felt a quiver of anger from deep inside. The Sheriff was trying to make the wrong deal out of the whole thing or maybe he needed to play it this way.
Blake pointed to the glinting metal beneath the water and said, “See it?”
“Blake? How long will it take Clark to get that equipment up here?”
Squires checked his wristwatch, “Give ‘em another half hour. The dozer will be the slowest but we’re going to need it to clear a spot through the trees down to the creek. She’s running way too high for this time of the year. When we get the tractor in here, we can get a cable on the car.”
Catfish shivered, “Who’s gonna’ swim out there and put a cable on?”
All three men looked squarely at Catfish. His smile turned to a frown, “You mean I got to go back into that water?”
“Don’t worry, Catfish. I’ll pick you up and toss you half way there. That will save you some work.”
“Oh my gawddddd...” was all he managed to say.
Brooks barked, “Squires? The county is not going to pay you for this.”
Blake spat into the dark waters the spittle missing Brooks’ leg by inches. He snapped, “So? You think I’m doing this for you?”
The Sheriff saw how close the spittle had missed. With a sneer, he hitched his thumbs into his gun belt and tugged upward. “I’m still wondering what you had to do with this. If that is Matt Veal’ car then it means he’s dead. You’re his business partner so you are now my prime suspect. Maybe you wanted this job solo. That’s a pretty good motive for murder I think.”
Catfish pointed, “Somebody’s coming down the creek yonder.”
All eyes turned and saw Chuck Veal and Gail working their way along the bank. Walt snapped, “Now what’s he doing here? Who called him?”
Bl
ake said, “I did.”
Brooks eyed him coldly and then yelled, “This is police business, Veal. It’s none of your affair.”
Chuck, holding Gail’s hand and helping her walk the tricky bank, ignored the Sheriff and asked Blake, “Is it Matt’s car?”
“Catfish recognized it. There isn’t another Trans-Am like it in the state.”
Brooks barked, “If that is your brother’s car then the man who put it there is standing right here. For that matter, who’s to say you and Squires aren’t in this together? Kill your brother and according to what you told Thompson at the mill this morning, you get the timber business all to yourself and Squires gets the half million dollars these trees will bring.”
Chuck stepped forward toward the man with lightning speed but Jacobs quickly stepped between the two. With a hand on his shoulder, Bill said, “Just hold on, Chuck. That’s what he wants you to do. Give him an excuse and he’ll arrest you.”
“He’s already under arrest as of right now. You too, Squires. I’m going to....”
Jacobs spun, pointing an index finger in the Sheriff’s face. “You’ll stand here and keep your mouth shut, Brooks, and if you say one more word about arresting anybody I’ll handcuff you to the nearest tree. You got that?”
Brooks paled and searched for words that wouldn’t come. Blake added, “And I’ll be sure the tree he uses is floating down the creek, too.”
Jacobs turned to Blake, “You be quiet too, Blake. I ain't slept in the last 35 hours and I’m in no mood for any of this. Now all of you just shut up.”
“Jacobs? You are fired, give me your badge and gun right now.”
Jacobs faced Brooks. The sheer anger and snarl on his face froze the man in place. He growled, “Fine with me but until we get a look inside that vehicle under the water, you will keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way. You got that?”
A short time later with the evening sun half way to the horizon, the low rumbling sounds of heavy equipment reached the banks of the creek. Blake turned an ear, “That’s Clark with the dozer and tractor. Catfish show him where we need to cut a path down to the banks here.
Catfish left. Chuck watched the young man disappear. Gail, standing beside him and squeezing his hand said, “Why don’t you and I go wait back at the car?”
Chuck shook his head. “No. I’m going to be here when they pull it out.”
Blake stepped closer and told Chuck, “Catfish could see inside pretty well and he’s pretty sure it’s empty. Don’t know about the trunk.”
“Blake?” Chuck asked. “Who did this? Was it Thompson?”
Shaking his head, Squires said, “I can’t see Thompson having the brains or the gall to pull this off alone. There are too many other things involved for a two bit hood like him.”
“I just came from the Beaver Dam project office. The secretary said they’re going to close the gates Tuesday morning. But I’m telling you something. The water is backing up right now. I think the gates are already closed.”
Blake said, “Well that does tell us something, however, Thompson received a faxed letter from Matt in which he rescinded the timber rights.”
Looking squarely at the Sheriff who was some dozen yards away out of earshot, he added, “He also told me to stay out of his business.”
Chuck said, “Matt is a man of his word and if he gave Blake his word to form the partnership on this timber project then he would never back out. Besides, it appears to me that he would have needed a partner and then some, to cut this much stuff on such a short time table.”
“Yea he and I were going to hire more crews and equipment to handle the job. Brooks said it was half a million dollars in trees but I figure closer to 700,000 or better.”
“You guys better be prepared for the worse. If Matt is down in that car then our beloved Sheriff here will try to pin this thing on the two of you. You’ve already heard him say as much.”
Chuck snarled, “That’s not going to stop me from finding the real killer. Besides all that, I think you’re out of a job too, Bill and what we need right now is some outside law enforcement help.”
Jacobs bit his lower lip, “I got a friend with the State Patrol. She’s been trying to get me to apply for a couple of years now. I can get her to start the ball rolling for a state investigation.”
Blake raised an eyebrow, “She? I only know of one female smoky in this area. Is that the one you mean?”
“Yea she’s the one.”
Brooks walked back closer and snapped, “Veal? I suppose you will be doing all this from jail?”
Gail chimed in. “I’ll take care of it for him or will you arrest me too, Sheriff?”
The sound of a cranking then racing diesel engine echoed through the underbrush and trees. It grew closer until Chuck could see the tractor cab as it pushed trees and underbrush out of its path. Close behind followed a backhoe tractor with Catfish perched up in the drivers cab.
Blake stepped away and started directing the job. The two pieces of equipment quickly opened a narrow road to the creek and the dozer pushed several tons of dry dirt from the hillside down the bank forming a hard packed road down to the edge of the water. On that, Catfish drove the tractor down stopping a few feet from the water’s edge. He locked the brakes and climbed down leaving the tractor engine idling. Blake stepped to the front of the tractor and released the catch on a front mounted cable and winch. With Catfish helping, they pulled several feet of metal cable clear. Catfish took the end of it with one hand and waded back into the water only this time with all his clothes on.
When he reached the drop off, he struggled a moment trying to keep his head above water and draw more cable. Blake was busy feeding it out when Catfish called for it. A moment later, he waved at Blake and then sank beneath the surface.
Almost two minutes passed before his head reappeared and he gasped for breath. “Okay, Blake. I got the hook on the rear chassis but go-slow. The car is stuck in a wash out on the bottom and it’s jammed in there hard. It’s not going to pull too easy until you clear that bank.”
Blake nodded and signaled Clark who climbed into the tractor cab and pushed the fuel control fully forward. The engine grumbled loudly and belched black smoke from an equally black exhaust pipe. The wench on the front started to turn slowly taking up slack in the cable. Blake motioned everyone back. “If this thing snaps you’d best be out of the way.”
Everyone, including Blake, stepped further back and to the side and waited. Catfish drifted to the opposite bank where he caught a tree root to hold against the current.
The cable snapped rigid and the tractor engine emitted a deep growl. The front wheels of the machine sank deeply and Clark idled down then stopped. Blake checked the problem and yelled, “We can pull it out later with the Dozer. Go ahead and get the car out.”
Clark nodded and once again shoved the fuel setting higher. The engine snarled again and then rumbled but the wheels sank no deeper. The first few feet of cable wound back onto the wench and just when Chuck thought the tractor was about to be drug into the creek, the cable started slipping around the coiler unit. The car was moving across the bottom and toward the bank. Catfish motioned to Blake that everything was okay and Clark kept it going.
Mud clouded the waters near the center of the creek and air bubbles boiled to the surface. A moment later Chuck saw the first blue colors rising to the surface and soon enough the white striped trunk spoiler that belonged to Matt’s car came into clear view.
It took ten minutes with tractor and bulldozer pulling and tugging to get the car high enough up the bank and out of the water. Chuck moved toward it but Blake stopped him. “Let them get some slack in the cable first. It’s too dangerous right this second.”
Muddy creek water poured from inside the car through the open windows that told Chuck Matt wasn’t the one driving. He always drove with the windows up and the air conditioner running to help keep dust and dirt out of the car’s interior. Also, the glass T-top cover was missing.
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With a wave of his hand, Blake signaled Clark to slacken on the cables. When the taught iron wire fell to the ground, the engines on each machine dropped to idle speed, coughed, then died. Blake turned to Jacobs, “You want to take a look inside?”
Sheriff Brooks, who had stood back watching the entire time, suddenly raced past the men and peered into the front of the car. His face said nothing. Chuck stepped up beside him and looked down. The water was still knee deep on the floor and a cringe of pity flipped through his heart. Matt would pitch a fit if he saw the car right now. Still, he wished Matt were there pitching that fit.
Brooks scanned the interior, stepped back and said, “It’s empty.” He pointed a finger at Catfish and snapped, “Get a pry bar and open the trunk.”
Catfish didn’t move. Instead, he looked at Blake who nodded. The young kid scrambled to the toolbox on the dozer and returned with a heavy metal bar. He stopped and looked at Blake once again. “Go ahead, Catfish. Open it up.”
Gail, who had stepped to the driver’s side of the car, shouted, “Wait a second. The keys are still in the ignition. Why don’t you use them?”
She reached inside to the steering wheel and Brooks snapped, “Don’t touch anything, lady this is a crime scene and there might be finger prints on them keys.”
Jacobs said, “Get the keys, Gail. I don’t see any reason to damage the car any worse by ripping open the trunk. Besides, there might be prints on the trunk lid that we would smear with the crow bar.”
When Brooks said nothing more, Gail pulled the keys from the ignition switch and closed her grip around them. The images flew out of the keys and into her mind.
Some strange man, not Matt, was driving the car and felt worried that someone in the community might see him at the wheel. Everyone in West Creek County knew the car and knew that nobody drove that Blue Trans Am but Matt Veal. Another vehicle was following him closely, a big truck of some kind, a tow truck? It was dark, middle of the night, and Gail strained to see a face but all she could distinguish was an outline. The man driving was large even while seated down lower at the wheel. He was heading for a place to hide the car. Then the images were gone. Nothing more came from the keys.
Gail turned and handed them to Jacobs. Bill looked at them for a long moment, flipped them several times searching for the round head trunk key, then pinched it between finger and thumb. He walked around to the back of the car, pushed the key into the trunk slot and twisted. It wouldn’t move and felt gritty and sand filled. He wiggled the key a few times in the socket, prayed that it wouldn’t break off if he twisted harder. The key swiveled clockwise a half turn and the release catch gave a loud click. The trunk lid popped upward a few inches spilling water out of the new opening.
Jacobs looked at Chuck and Blake. Gail move closer to Chuck’s side, took his hand and said softly, “He’s not in there.”
Jacobs took a shallow breath and tugged at the lid. The trunk swung upward with grit-filled hinges complaining all the way. Jacobs leaned over and peered down. There were several inches of creek water and a few scattered bits of paper otherwise, the trunk was empty.
Brooks, after walking over and inspecting it, half sneered, “See? I told you there was no body in that car. Somebody probably just stole it and was afraid it was too hot to handle so they dumped it here in the creek. That’s all there is to it.”
Jacobs shook his head. “If that’s true, Brooks, then where is Matt?”
“Like I’ve been telling you from the first, he’s out of town on business. Somebody stole the car from his house. Case closed.”
Chuck, still staring into the empty trunk space, said “Sheriff? Half-hour ago you were going to arrest us for murder and now you’re back to Matt’s out of town? If so then, how did he get there? Did he walk?”
Blake said to Clark. “Go ahead and tow the car on up the hill. I’ll send Bobby’s wrecker out here later to pick it up.”
Brooks snapped, “This is a police matter, Squires. I’ll have the car towed to the impound yard at the courthouse.”
Chuck took a few steps toward Brooks. “You just said nothing is wrong, remember? Matt is out of town on business. So why are you impounding the car?”
Brooks pointed an ugly finger at Chuck, “I’m only telling you one thing, Veal. You leave town and you do it right this minute. If I see you around West Creek County, again I’ll lock you up. You got that, boy?”
Chuck drew back to swing but Gail stopped him. He growled instead “You’re looking at 200 pounds of boy, Sheriff, and I’ll go anywhere I want and do anything I please.”
Jacobs stepped closer, “Let it go. There’s other ways to start an investigation. Matt has friends in a lot better places than inside Max Pary’s deep pocket where this man comes from.”
Brooks stood gawking but knew better than to say more. He turned to leave but snapped, “You leave that patrol car right where it sits, Jacobs because you are still fired. Squires, you get your machines away from that car. I’m impounding it as of right now. Veal, I’ve warned you, if I see you again...”
Chuck interrupted. “It’ll be through a jail bars, Sheriff, but you’re not going to like which one of us is on the inside looking out. You’re not going to like that at all.”
Brooks stomped away almost losing his balance and falling into the water. Chuck looked around at Blake, Jacobs, Catfish, Gail, and Clark. “What now? Where is Matt?”
Blake shook his head in disgust. “I don’t know, Chuck. I do know that whoever put this car here wasn’t worried about anyone finding it. That only means one thing.”
“It means that Matt is either laid up hurt someplace, or he’s...he’s...,.” Jacobs couldn’t put it into words.
“Dead” Catfish finished.
“He’s not dead. Matt isn’t dead and I know it.” Gail muttered.
Blake bit his lower lip, “I sure hope you’re right, Gail. Okay, guys, let’s clear out. By the way, Clark, how did you get the tractor and the dozer down here with only you driving?”
Clark spat into the creek and said, “I loaded it on the trailer and pulled it with the Cat.”
“Good thinking. Okay. Catfish, help him load back up and ride with him? Bill? They can drop us off at my truck. I’ll take you home if you want.”
Gail said, “No. Let’s all go to Matt’s place. I’ll fix us something to eat. We need to plan what to do next.” Everyone agreed and turned to leave.
Catfish looked at Clark, “I ain’t riding on that cat with you driving.”
The Beginning (Whispering Pines Book 1) Page 26