“Is he here in the county?”
“Can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?” Starnes interjected.
Cathy turned slowly and stared hard at her.
“Either word you choose. But truthfully, I haven’t seen Jasper in a very long time.”
I looked at Reddy. He seemed reticent to say anything. He was in a difficult position without a doubt.
“Rumors out there?” I said to no one in particular.
“There are always rumors, Miss Evans,” Cathy said now trying to be pleasant.
“Should I go and ask around?” I said.
“It’d be a waste of your time. Folks around here are not going to help you.”
“Jasper has a lot of friends,” I said.
“Jasper’s got very few friends. I can’t think of a soul who likes the man. His reputation in this county is suspect. He’s a mean sonofabitch, and that’s the short version of it. But he’s family, whether we like him or not. For me, I hope you find him. But I can’t help you find him. That’s just the way it is.”
“Will you tell me where your father lives?” I said to her.
“Daddy’s old and…he doesn’t care too much about strangers. Outsider is one of the terms he uses for folks like you. Foreigner is another. I’d think it safer for you to not go there,” Cathy said.
“I appreciate your candor, Cathy. But I really have to go there, whether you help or not. I have to finish this. And I have to find Sam.”
She gave me the impression that she wanted to help me. However, family won out over law and justice.
“Miss Evans, you’re not an official officer of the law. How do you plan to get Jasper back to Norfolk?”
I looked at Rosey and then at Starnes. “He’ll go with us,” I said knowing that I had sufficient backup.
“Or else?”
“I didn’t come all this way to kill him, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I want him to answer for what he has done. He killed three people in cold blood. He tried to kill me twice. He stole my dog. I’ll find him and take him back alive,” I said.
“This dog you lost… Was it a black Lab?” Cathy said.
“He is,” I said.
“I remember him having a black puppy when he first left the county,” Cathy said as she seemed to be focused on some memory, trying to recall something about that dog Jasper had years ago.
“He might have used the name Andy for his dog,” I said.
“That’s it. He had a friend named Andy…well, not much of a friend. More like a punching bag. He and Andy would hang out. When he got that dog, he called it Andy and used to kick it around a lot. Like I said before, Jasper was and is a mean sonofabitch.”
“But he’s family,” Rosey said.
“Yes, sir. He’s family, Mister Washington. That trumps a lot of things.”
“Maybe for you, but not for me. Even blood kin has to answer for crimes against humanity,” I said.
“You’d turn in your own kin?” she said to me.
“If I knew that they were guilty of murder,” I said.
“Likely your word against his,” she said.
“Fair enough,” I said and stood. I knew I would not make any headway with her. I had Jasper’s confession recorded by Rogers for all the good that would do me, explanations notwithstanding. I knew that he had murdered those three young people. I could never get Cathy Connelly to turn against her relative.
It was time to leave. I tried to understand what she believed about kith and kin. It would not compute for me. I had no such allegiance. I simply disagreed with her stance.
I appreciated their letting me come and ask.
“Thanks for the tea,” I said. Starnes and Rosey offered their thanks for the hospitality as we headed out the door.
Reddy followed us down the walk and through the latticed archway. As we approached the Jag next to Reddy’s truck, he paused and looked around. I noticed that he looked back at the cabin and then at me. He grinned slightly.
“Clancy,” Reddy said, “I am really sorry about your dog. I hope you find him. He and Butch got along real well back in the day.”
I smiled at him. “Yeah, back in the day…they did, didn’t they? Managed to find a way through their differences.”
He grinned broadly. “Yeah. As I recall they ran off together. Up this holler here. Romped around up toward High Peak for most of the afternoon. You remember, during our visit with Doctor Bernstein that day?”
Reddy pointed in the direction toward the top of the mountain.
I smiled and nodded, then turned to leave without another word.
“Best of luck, Clancy,” he said as he waved casually while we climbed inside the car.
We drove back down to Grey Wolf Road from Reddy’s long driveway.
“Where to now?” Rosey said as he stopped at the entrance to the drive before turning onto the Grey Wolf.
I turned back to look at the cabin. I wanted to see if Reddy was still standing on the porch. We were close to a hundred yards from the house, but I could still see the porch. Reddy was no longer in sight.
“Turn right,” I said.
“Right?” Rosey said.
“Yeah, we’re going on up the holler here.”
“If we’re leaving, we came from that direction,” Starnes said as she pointed to the left.
“We’re not leaving. I came to get Sam and take Jasper back to Norfolk.”
“So where are we going now?” Starnes said.
“Towards High Peak.”
“What’s up here?”
“Jasper and my dog,” I said.
“And you know this…how?” Rosey said.
“Reddy told me.”
Chapter 60
It seemed as if time stopped while we drove slowly up Grey Wolf Road towards High Peak. If there were many homes along our route, then they were mostly hidden by the thick forests that lined both sides of the road. Some were just barely visible behind massive clusters of rhododendrons which permitted only a peek at some structure on the other side. Many of the dwellings were built within the framework of the rugged mountain setting without doing substantial damage to the environment.
“So, you think that Reddy was pointing you in this direction, up this holler?” Rosey asked.
“I do.”
“And not putting us on a wild goose chase?” Starnes interjected.
“Reddy wouldn’t do that. He’d say nothing at all.”
“But you’re still assuming that his memory from years back is suggestive,” Rosey said.
“I am.”
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
“Intuition. Maybe reading between the lines from what he said. Can’t say for sure, but… well, how about a feeling?” I said.
“His wife will likely know something is up if we find Jasper up here,” Starnes said.
“Yeah, he may have to answer for that. Perhaps I should think of a reason that we turned right instead of going back down to the highway,” I said. “Might need to save his marriage.”
“You’re assuming you will need to,” Starnes said, still skeptical.
“The dogs stayed in the yard and played that day. Reddy and I remember it well. I know he would not make up another detail without cause. I’m betting that Jasper and…I’m hoping that Sam…are somewhere up in this holler.”
“You have too much faith in people,” Starnes said.
“Except for the people I can count on one hand, I have little faith in people.”
“Reddy in that hand count?”
“I’m counting on it.”
“Too long a shot, if you ask me,” Starnes said.
“We’ll see.”
“So how do we know how far to travel up here?”
“Towards High Peak,” I said.
“Definitive,” Rosey said.
We drove on some five miles, maybe a little further. It was slow going on purpose. We were looking at everything. We had no idea what we w
ere looking towards. The nature of my work in a nutshell. I was gambling that we would know it when we found it. Clancy’s mantra. I was also hoping that Reddy Reese was not sending me on some empty venture, or that his memory was failing him prematurely.
“Well, I’ll be,” Rosey said as he brought the Jag to a slow stop.
He pointed to a large mailbox that was completely covered with some blue rocks. They looked like a type of quartz to me, but I didn’t know my stones that well. It was merely a guess.
“This is Uncle Shebo’s place,” Rosey said.
“And you know this how?” Starnes said.
“Those rocks on that mailbox are a type of quartz, agate to be precise. Agate comes in a variety of colors, one of which is blue. The folks inclined towards the Zodiac calendar list it as one of the possible birthstones for Gemini, that May to June period,” he said.
“And when did you have time to study rocks?” I said.
“It was a project my senior year in high school.”
“I’m sure it was. And, of course, you remember it all quite well,” I said.
Even from my backseat position I could tell that he was smiling. More smirk than smile, if you ask me.
“I liked the blue agate stone. A favorite…well, one of ’em. That and the ruby.”
“Rogers did in fact enlighten me regarding the Hebrew term for agate,” I said.
“And what would that be?” Starnes said.
“Shebo is the term,” Rosey said before I could respond.
“Let’s go see if you two etymological geniuses are correct,” Starnes said.
“Rogers is seldom wrong,” I added even though I hated to admit it.
“We might want to think some strategy here,” Rosey said.
“This old man would likely do anything to protect a nephew,” I said.
We parked the Jag on Grey Wolf Road close to a large thicket of trees and shrubs. We laid out a strategy for approaching the house from three distinct sides. Despite the fact that the house sat some fifty yards from the road, we easily agreed that the frontal assault was out.
We stayed together through the woods until we came to a spot where we could clearly see the house. It lay neatly in a small open section accessed only by the driveway that approached from the left side of the house. Except for the short, dirt drive, the house was completely surrounded by forest.
We stayed inside the thick forest as we moved along the left side of the house heading our way toward the back. The plan was to have each of us on one side and approach simultaneously at an agreed time. We set our clocks. Rosey had a wristwatch, as did Starnes. I used my phone for the time check.
Starnes was the first to drop out of our little maneuver. She stayed on the left side. I remained at the back, the center of the house, and Rosey continued on around to the right side. We agreed to begin our slow, careful movement at ten past the hour.
We were aided a little by the fact that they sun was going down rather early and quickly this time of year. We were also aided by the fact that on the left side, Starnes’ position, there were two out-buildings that provided good cover in her approach.
Rosey’s right side position was aided by an old truck and two cars which provided ample protection for him.
I was the singular one hung out to dry without anything but a clothesline that had seen its better days a couple of decades back. Both posts were leaning heavily, one was falling towards the house and the other was bent in the direction of the other post. Some of the actual lines were long gone. I noted all of this as I made my way quickly from the forest cover to the back of the house. I was praying that the occupants inside were not normally the kind of folk who would be gazing longingly out of the back windows. It was a risky game to play.
My prayers were answered. I made it safely to the house with great relief.
I checked my surroundings. I couldn’t see Rosey, but that was normal. He was good at this kind of maneuvering. This was likely nothing more than a mere exercise for the work he did much to the time.
I glanced back to my right and saw Starnes go into the larger of the two outbuildings. I had no idea what she was doing since that was not part of the plan. There’s something about the scientific mind – one like Starnes’ – that doesn’t seem to realize you set a plan to capture or surprise the enemy and you stick to it.
A minute or so later, I saw the door open to that building and Sam took a couple of steps away from the door, ears alert, and looking in my direction. Starnes had her hand on his back while she knelt down. Her mouth was moving, so I judged that she was talking to him and giving him commands. Sam had not been part of our planned approach.
My heart was encouraged. Half of my mission was accomplished.
As I started to make my run to the little back porch of the house, the door opened, and a white-haired old man came out. He was bent over at the waist, but his head was up and looking directly at me. He had a cane in his hand, nothing more. He took a few short steps, sliding his way to the edge of the porch, and then he spoke.
“You might as well come on inside. I don’t plan to kill anybody today,” he said and spit some tobacco juice into the brown yard before turning and heading back inside.
He left the door open. My invitation.
Rosey was at the corner by now. Starnes and Sam were on the other back corner of the house. I was cautious enough not to stand up in full view and head towards the open door. I was confident that many cemeteries were full of stupid people who had done just that.
Rosey held up a hand for me to stay put. He slid his way along the wall, ducked under a window and then took one giant step and was on the porch. He eased his way to the door and carefully peered inside. He looked at me and motioned for me to come forward.
I watched him disappear inside and waited for a few seconds before I moved. My short wait was met with silence, so I decided that it might be safe enough to make my way to the porch. Starnes and Sam arrived as I approached the doorway. I stopped, knelt down and hugged him. I took a few moments to check him, making sure that he was not injured. I could see no visible wounds on him. He appeared to be in good condition. At least he had been fed the last few days.
“You okay?” I whispered.
He licked my face without barking. I took that for a yes.
“You heard him inside the building?” I said to Starnes.
“No. Looked in the window and saw him tied to some piece of machinery.”
The three of us entered the back door.
“Up the hall to your left. Door’s on the right,” a raspy voice said.
I arrived at the door first. Rosey was on the left wall, near the corner, looking in my direction. His gun was drawn and pointed downward at his side. The old man I had seen on the back porch was sitting in a rocking chair by a double bed. Jasper Connelly was lying in the bed covered with several blankets and quilts. Despite the mound of covers on him, I could see that he was shaking. Not a good sign.
The room was dark and hot. A small pot-bellied stove was not far from the bed on the other side. It was cranking out the heat as hard as it could. It was working well. The room was excessively hot.
“You Clancy Evans?” the old man said to me.
“I am.”
“You been chasing my nephew for a good while, huh?”
I nodded.
“Bet you didn’t know you shot him, did ya?” he said.
“I had a suspicion. He left a blood trail in Norfolk.”
“Probably left blood in several other places between here and there.”
“Injured badly?” I said.
“They got the slugs out. He told me that you hit him three times. Doc said that two of the slugs were almost on top of each other. Good shootin’ for a girl.”
“Good shooting for any male I know,” I said.
The old man shrugged, ignoring my comeback without further comment.
“So, what’s wrong with him?” Starnes asked.
“We didn�
�t have much time to talk. Slugs were taken out. Wound was healing, then all of a sudden, an infection came on him. Bad, bad infection. Don’t know what caused it. I’ve had the doc here a time or two, but nothing seems to be working. Just a matter of time he said.”
“You’re Shebo Connelly,” I said.
“That’d be me. Not really pleased to meet the one who is likely going to turn out to be my nephew’s killer.”
“He tried to kill me,” I said, “more than once.”
“That supposed to mean something to me? You were coming after him,” Shebo said.
“Neither time. I was jogging on two occasions and taking a shower on the third attempt.”
“And he got the drop on you.”
“Call it like you want to. Your nephew is a cold-blooded killer. He stabbed three people to death. Tried three different times to kill me…failed…and, well, here I am…some years later.”
“Stubborn broad,” Shebo said.
“That’d be me. Not my style to give up.”
“I can see that. What finally put you on to him here?” Shebo said.
“Family name.”
“Jasper Connelly?”
“No. The name Stone.”
“Stone. That was his middle name, like mine. Family tradition. My mama wanted the world to know that we were a family of jewels. My brother kept that tradition going, but I didn’t. I lost some babies early on and, well, lost my enthusiasm for the name. Didn’t have the same meaning for me after that.”
“Your brother thought he had some jewels as well.”
“Yeah, but…Jasper, well…I don’t know,” he looked over at the dying man who was still shaking probably from fever and chills. “He ain’t much of a jewel. If what you say is true, I reckon he’s a jewel of a murderer, though. That’d be about it? Right?”
“Might be more than I care to admit in his favor. More likely he’s simply a man with a heart of stone.”
“He said he shot you. Figured he might’ve kilt ya,” Shebo said.
“He did shoot me. Three times.”
“Shot you three times and didn’t kill you?”
“Not likely the family marksman, huh?” I said.
“Long range shooting,” he said, as if stating a fact.
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