Fancy Gap (24 page)

Quinn paused for half a second before he extended his hand. “Libby, I’m Quinn McSpain. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you have a fine set of wheels here.”

“Well, thank you, Quinn. It’s just a little something to get me around town, if you know what I mean.”

“Libby, that car will easily get you around the whole state of Virginia!”

“No need to use a car for that. I fly my jet for longer trips.”

She gave him a sultry smile, then spun on her heels and walked over to the sheriff and Louisa.

“Well, good afternoon. You must be the infamous Louisa Hawke I’ve heard so much about. It’s a pleasure to have you here with us. I understand that you’ve recently set up light housekeeping in Fancy Gap with that tall, good-looking man, who is still looking at my Porsche.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Libby. As matter of fact, I am spending some time with Quinn. I understand that you’re a horsewoman extraor-dinaire. Just imagine if you suddenly found yourself with an old stallion who had passed his prime and needed some tender, loving care. Well, that’s what I’m doing with Quinn, and it seems to be working out just fine. Plus he has developed an affection for my…Volvo.”

Libby started to laugh. “Oh, my, I believe I’m going to like you, Louisa. Let’s all go into the house and have some sweet tea.” She took Louisa’s arm and led the way. Quinn fell into step with the sheriff.

“Was I not there, Quinn? Not even a hello. But a word to the wise, Brother Quinn: She lit up when she laid eyes on you,” the sheriff warned.

“Sheriff, not to worry. I already have my hands full with the current
femme fatale
in residence. But do tell me later what kind of jet she flies?”

Libby led them into the main sitting room. Five men were standing around and talking as they entered. Libby introduced Louisa and Quinn to each of the supervisors. Quinn immediately sized them up and saw just what he had expected: a mix of small-business owners and a couple of farmers. There was no doubt that Libby Thomas was the leader of this pack.

Louisa looked around the room and saw a lot of very expensive… everything. Period antiques and original oils were scattered throughout the room. A massive portrait of a man and a woman with a young girl hung behind Libby’s desk. Louisa immediately guessed it was Libby and her parents.

The sheriff began, “I want y’all to know that we’re very fortunate to have Quinn and Louisa here with us today. I had to do a fair amount of convincing to get them to help us out with this unfortunate mess we’re living through right now. Louisa and Quinn made it clear to me that they’re retired from great careers and now wish to enjoy the good life in the mountains of southwest Virginia.”

Before he could continue, Libby held her hand up. “Thank you, sheriff. You’re right. We are most fortunate to have two people with such experience with us in Carroll County during our time of need. Under normal circumstances, the protection provided by the sheriff and the state police are adequate, but we all know that the past week hasn’t been normal by any means.

As you both know by now, Quinn and Louisa, the economic situation in the county isn’t the best. We lost many jobs when companies like Hanes closed their local factories for no good reason but greed and moved jobs offshore. We’re blessed to have a great, destination-type revenue generator every Labor Day weekend, when more than five hundred thousand people visit our area—and leave their money behind. Many families build up their yearly nest egg from the four or five days when the area is overrun with cash-carrying visitors. The trickle-down effect is huge. It means so much to so many.

You probably heard what’s already happening. Vendors and visitors alike, especially those with families, have already cancelled their reservations. Many more are calling and asking if it’s safe to be here. And to make matters worse, it seems that the media are increasing their coverage of the abductions and the killing of the poor little boy.

But that’s not all. Quinn, I know you live in beautiful Fancy Gap. You should know that we have plans for that area. With access to both the I-77 and the Blue Ridge Parkway, Fancy Gap has long been seen as a potential gold mine for Carroll County with the proper infrastructure.

A group of new businesses interested in relocating to Fancy Gap recently surfaced. They want to build two restaurants, a ninety-room motel, and a sixty-home subdivision. The new investments for those businesses would double the current investment in Fancy Gap from ten million dollars to about nineteen million. The estimated number of new employees would be seventy-two, with new tax revenue coming from those new businesses. And those four interested businesses are just the tip of the iceberg of what can occur at Fancy Gap.

Fancy Gap has two things that no other community in Virginia has: access to both an interstate and the Blue Ridge Parkway, which serves as the gateway to southwest Virginia. Fancy Gap also has the highest tourist count of any community in Carroll County. The Blue Ridge Parkway celebrated its seventy-fifth anniversary this year with a ceremony in Fancy Gap. The governors of both North Carolina and Virginian attended. The name recognition of Fancy Gap is second to none in Virginia and North Carolina. Fancy Gap is truly that quaint, mountain town that folks come to places like Carroll County for. It’s truly a gem. This is why all of this terrible publicity will hurt us now and in the future we’re planning for the whole county, especially for Fancy Gap.”

Libby sat down and smiled at Quinn. Louisa stood up and hovered close to Libby’s space. “Thanks for all of that, and rest assured that Quinn and I certainly appreciate what this unfortunate situation means to all in this wonderful community. First of all, it’s important, I believe, that we all understand a few things about what’s happening here. I know I speak for Quinn when I tell you that we’re here today because of the tragedy that has happened to the Preston family and nothing else. Their son, Pete, is gone. A maniacal killer is on the loose among us.

All of this bears similarities to a few cases I’ve been associated with in the past. I speak with confidence that any FBI profiler would tell us that the killer will strike again soon. That little girl—if she’s still alive— is living on borrowed time. The killer is very intelligent. He’s probably working alone. I say that because a fifty-thousand-dollar reward in Carroll County is akin to winning the Mega Millions lottery. Yet no one who might know anything has spoken. That, my friends, is because no one knows anything. That’s because the killer doesn’t have any accomplices. He’s working alone. No one else probably knows anything about what he’s done or what he’ll do next.

The longer the little girl is alive, the better for the investigative effort. I say that because it increases the odds that the killer will make a mistake. We need that to happen. Quinn and I believe that the law enforcement officers working on the investigation are adequate. I say that because Quinn and I discovered evidence at Devil’s Den that was missed by the police and technicians at the scene. Not good. Adequate won’t get results in this case. We need immediate and intensive resources to cover every square inch of this county to find that elusive piece of information or evidence that we don’t have yet.

The state police have to allocate more resources to the investigation. We need to find the North Carolina person of interest who allegedly is in some unknown part of West Virginia. We need to find out a lot more about that person. Quinn and I will soon meet with all of the investigators working on the case. Now understand we won’t lead the investigation. We’ll assist the sheriff. We’re here because of your fine sheriff and, of course, the Prestons.

Now there’s something else you all should understand. We both need to fly under the media radar screen, meaning that, as far as all of you are concerned, we don’t exist. I understand that you might receive some positive publicity if the national and regional media advertise that the recently retired director of the FBI’s criminal division and one of the foremost corporate security experts in the world are here to assist the police. That would complicate matters in many ways. People might jump to the wrong conclusions. We don’t want that; we don’t need that; we can’t have that.

So let me make this perfectly clear: If any of you talk to the press or are interviewed by the TV folks and you mention us in any way, the gig is over. All of that is not negotiable. Quinn and I will deal with national media types who might by chance recognize us. Our story is that we’re retired and enjoying the mountains and Fancy Gap. We’ll be able to make that work. But, remember, we’re giving our time and efforts for the Prestons. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

Quinn looked at the sheriff, who was smiling. He then looked at Libby, who was seething through a great smile.
Advantage: Louisa
, he thought.

“Well, if there aren’t any questions, I hope and pray that we can catch the killer soon. Thanks to all of you, and it was a pleasure meeting y’all,” Louisa said.

Louisa and Quinn shook hands with all the supervisors, who offered words of encouragement. The sheriff led Louisa to the front door. They both paused and turned to see Libby slowly escorting Quinn. She shook his hand and smiled her million-dollar smile as she waved to Louisa and the sheriff and went back into the living room.

After they were settled in the sheriff ’s car, Louisa turned to address Quinn in the back seat.

“Did you get soaked when that woman wet her tight, little riding britches when she gushed all over you?”

“Louisa, what in tarnation are you referring to? I found Miss Thomas to be an intelligent and most engaging woman. Didn’t you?” Quinn replied, never cracking a smile.

“Well, she’s bright, she’s very beautiful, and she’s a control freak who is obviously horny as an ole toad and who mind-fucked you a dozen times in our cozy little time together. She doesn’t give a rat’s ass about the Prestons or their children. All she cares about is Libby Thomas enterprises and, so it seems, getting into your pants.”

“My, my, isn’t Miss Hawke a bit uppity today! I just can’t imagine for the life of me why you might have even imagined any of those suspicions. I thought Libby was very professional with us.”

“Oh, make no doubt about it, big man—she was most professional and icy cold to the sheriff and me. I swear I saw her imagining you as husband number three. Tell me, sheriff, how exactly how did the last two husbands die?”

The sheriff smiled. “Well, rumor has it that both passed while in the act of…well, ya’ know. According to law enforcement gossip, Libby is a very aggressive and passionate lover who, so they say, has a kinky liking for a little B and D action. But, again, that’s only cop gossip and hearsay,” he offered with a smile on his face.

Louisa started to laugh. “I knew it! I just knew that woman would be into that kinky shit. Now, Quinn, I just can see her getting you all tied up in her love dungeon and putting that ball bridle with straps encircling your head and whipping you with her most prized whip. Oh, she might even pee all over you while you’re strapped to her board!”

By then, both the sheriff and Quinn were hysterical. The sheriff stopped laughing long enough to say, “Now, that’s someplace my imagination has never been with Libby Thomas. But the more I think about it, the more I see some very distinct possibilities there. I think I need to keep all of that to myself. But say, Quinn is your life insurance paid up, my friend?”

“His coverage may be good, sheriff, but I sincerely doubt that his speed is sufficient to keep up with that woman,” Louisa interjected.

“Now, Louisa, I must say I liked that Porsche. Those were some very hot wheels,” Quinn piped up.

Louisa shot him a steely stare, “Piece of advice, big man: You’re much better off with a Volvo in your driveway.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Quinn said as they pulled into the sheriff ’s office parking lot.

“Say, before I forget, Louisa, here are your badge and credentials. You are now officially a special deputy with the Carroll County Sheriff ’s Department,” said the sheriff.

“Why, thank you…I think, sheriff. I will do my best to make you proud,” she said.

The sheriff watched them walk to Quinn’s truck. He had never met any sixty-year-olds like Louisa and Quinn. He was overjoyed that they had agreed to work with him. He was also tickled to have been there as Louisa put Libby Thomas in her place. Libby was an uppity bitch who needed to be put in her place every so often. Yet he worried a bit for Quinn, as Libby had him in her sights.

That woman always gets what she wants
, he thought.

* * *

Saturday morning broke with a fine mist in the mountain air. Quinn was already out on the deck, sipping his coffee, when Louisa came out with her cup in hand. They sat on the east side of the deck and watched the sun slowing peeking over the horizon. The bluebirds were busy, enjoying the early-morning thermals as the heat rose in the air. The hummingbirds buzzed by them, finding their way to the red feeders Quinn had set up on the corners of the deck.

Louisa looked at him for a long time. “I don’t really think I ever want to leave you and this magical place. I know this is crazy because I haven’t been here all that long, and, well, you haven’t invited me to stay. But, Quinn, you need to know that all of this way beyond what I ever imagined my new life would be like. A person can’t even imagine all of this. Heck, if you’ll have me, I’ll chip in for the electric and propane bill, and we can split the groceries. I guess I just needed to tell you all of that,” she finished.

Quinn stood up and leaned against the deck railing. “You didn’t mention paying half of all the wine we may drink. There are priorities at the Chateau, you know, and I have very expensive taste in wine.”

“Well, now, I hadn’t thought of that. Knowing how much you like wine, I’m afraid that could put a serious dent in my federal retirement pay, as well as my family inheritance. Don’t suppose there’s any room for compromise on that one, is there?” she asked.

“Right on that one, Miss Hawke. Well, now, let me suggest an alternative. We can drive that Volvo of yours to Greensboro and stop by the Porsche dealer there. I’ll bet you could get a couple thousand on a trade for a real car.”