Murder in Gatlinburg (24 page)

"What's wrong with
you? I mean other than the obvious."

"You mean like
missing my honey."

When Lou refrained from
answering, I picked up again.

"I had water on the
brain. I was trying to get it to flow away."

"Cy, any water you
may have is left over from your weekly shower. Any brain you might have you
left at home."

I made a mental note to
find Lou a seat in the van next to Jack Ripatoe. I hoped it would be the beginning
of a beautiful relationship.

I left The Village shops
with a couple of bags that didn't weigh much, turned right and walked down the
hill. Lou had a smaller bag, filled with I don't know what. We didn't stick by
each other's side the whole time we were in any shop. Just the ones that sold
food. I trusted Lou, so I let him carry the cheese and donuts. Evidently he too
had purchased some gifts, but none of them had him struggling so much he had to
switch arms or drag the bag. I wondered which was stranger for me to have done,
ridden a rollercoaster or enjoy shopping. A month earlier I never would have
pictured myself doing either.

When we arrived at our
meeting place there were two vans left. One van had room for three people. None
of the three people waiting in the van were on my suspect list, but I went
undercover and checked out their purchases by looking at them sideways through my
new sunglasses. None of the bags looked like they contained something that
might go bang in the night, or something that could cut a hole in the bag or in
any of the passengers. That made me feel a little better. I didn't want someone
to provide me with another orifice. I was also curious as to whether or not any
of my suspects purchased toe socks. Somehow I didn't think so. They didn't look
like toe sock kind of people, but then Lou and I weren't toe sock kind of
people either, and might not be again once we've left the mountain air behind. I
had hidden my toe sock purchases inside the Day Hiker bags.

I felt good as I waited
for our final companion until that companion arrived and it turned out to be
Max Huffington. I had pictured him as a first van out sort of person. I
wondered if during his wanderings he had purchased an I Love Gatlinburg tattoo.
I wasn't about to ask him. I realized that the only vacant seat was the one
behind me. Max got in the van without saying anything to anyone, if you didn't
count his grunt when our driver welcomed him. I saw that he clutched a bag that
said The Donut Friar. It was a big bag. He must have purchased a lot. I
wondered if inside that big bag he had a bag that read The Sock Shop, getting
all greasy on the outside. As I thought about that, I gulped. Could it be that
en route I would get strangled by a rainbow-colored toe sock after he removed
it from the neck of his seatmate?

For years, as we worked
one case after another, Lou and I had each other's back. I was hoping that for
a short time Lou had my neck.

Max Huffington didn't
close the door when he got in. That left it up to me to do so. As I leaned over
to do just that, my packages fell to the floor and toe socks flew everywhere.
All I could do was pick them up, smile, and say, "My niece loves these
things." After I said that, I looked at Lou and dared him to tell anyone I
didn't have any nieces.

As soon as I closed the
door and picked up several pairs of socks, the driver took off and headed for
our first stop on the eight-mile Craft Loop road.

I was surprised when we
got there. The Craft Loop road didn't consist of shop after shop, but several
shops in a grouping of buildings with a parking lot out front, followed by a
drive to the next group of shops a short distance down the road. We already
knew our agenda. The first six people back would get in the first van, and on
and on until all vans and all shoppers had departed a certain area. I assumed
that meant that when we got to the last stop, the last van to leave would be
full of women.

I had read the brochure
and seen a short video telling me about the Craft Loop, but I still found it
amazing watching one craftsman after another making their wares. From jewelry
to stained glass, from wood to pottery, from brooms to paintings, I was amazed
as I stood there watching person after person in shop after shop do something I
couldn't do. I wasn't a typical male. I was fascinated. In the first grouping
of shops I found a jewelry shop that displayed items that I thought Jennifer
would love. I bought her a matching set that included a ring, earrings, and a
necklace. I left the bracelet, because Jennifer doesn't like something sliding
up and down her arm. Well, nothing but my fingers. I didn't know how the toe
socks and T-shirt would grab her, but I felt that the jewelry I bought her
might make up for  me being away for a week. She had recently moved to
Hilldale, so both of us were sorry that I was leaving not long after she moved
to be near me. But she would be with her cousin Thelma Lou while Lou and I were
gone.

I spent quite a chunk of
change on Jennifer, so I think Lou felt he needed to do the same for Thelma
Lou. Both of us spent more in that one shop than we had spent on our entire trip
up to that point, and we had been in the area for six days.

After we checked out
each of the first grouping of shops, we headed to a van that was looking for
four more people. The two women already seated turned and asked us what we had
bought. I took that to mean what had we bought last, so I refrained from
showing them my toe sock collection. Lou and I showed them the jewelry and told
them that it was for our girlfriends back home, who couldn't make the trip with
us. Of course they told us how much the girls would like what we bought them.

We stopped at two more clusters
of shops, but Lou and I didn't spend as much time at either place. I was
getting hungry, and we knew that our next stop was The Fox and Parrot English
Pub, which meant lunch. I chowed down on bangers and mash, which was British
for sausages and mashed potatoes.

Our drivers had been
told that we must all leave the Craft Loop by 4:00, in order to get to enjoy the scenic views on the Roaring Fork Motor Nature Trail. When we got to the nature
trail, if we discounted our mode of transportation, it felt like we had been
transported back in time two hundred years.

The one way road was too
narrow for a bus or motor home, and had a speed limit of 15 m.p.h., but most of
the time we didn't go that fast. In many places the trees grew up to the road.
Other places we could see log cabins, waterfalls, flora and fauna. We stopped
twice. Once to check out flowing water, another time to walk back to a cabin,
if we were so inclined. At one stop we were told that we just missed a couple
of bear cubs. That meant we just missed mama bear too, and her main concern
wouldn't be if someone had eaten part of her porridge.

When we stopped at the
cabin, Sylvia was there, and when she saw Lou and me, she ran up to us.

"I think I just saw
Inez."

"Where?"

"Some woman ran
behind that cabin when we pulled up, and while I just got a glimpse of her, she
sure looked like Inez."

"How would Inez
have gotten out here? She didn't leave with us today."

Sylvia didn't have a chance
to answer me, because we both caught some movement out of the corner of our
eye. I looked up and Max Huffington stepped out from behind the cabin. That was
enough for me to check out Sylvia's call for help. Lou went around one side of
the cabin. I went around the other. Naturally I got stuck with Max's side of
the cabin. He wasn't going to step aside. As a matter of fact, he hightailed it
to a van that was just getting ready to leave.

Just as Lou and I got to
the back of the cabin, our driver hollered to us that we needed to leave. I
spotted a piece of fabric caught on a tree, but a quick perusal of the place
didn't turn up a human being. I left the fabric where it was in case some woman
stopped by and felt it matched something she owned.

Our last dinner in the
Smokies was to be at the Park Grill, another nice-looking structure made of
wood and glass. I passed on an appetizer, but tried a cup of shrimp and crab
bisque before checking out the salad bar, which included smoked oysters. I
topped off my meal with chocolate hazelnut mousse for dessert. Lou chose the
Jack Daniels crème brulee.

Only the good food kept
my mind away from who wasn't eating with us. Max, who had beat a hasty retreat
from the cabin, and Jack Ripatoe, who more than likely had beaten someone
behind a cabin at some point in his life, had chosen to dine somewhere else.
Angel was missing as well. I wondered if all of them would join us the next
morning when we were to board a bus for some fun in Pigeon Forge, and then the
trip home.

+++

Nothing happened on our
trip back to Westgate, but I couldn't help thinking about those who were
missing; Inez, Max, Jack, and Angel. Was the fact they were missing because
they were dead, they were running, or was it merely a coincidence? I thought of
calling Lt. Curlee, but I figured I would have a greater chance of returning
home if I gave up thinking about who had killed whom. I was sure he would have
more interest in seeing my toe sock collection and inquiring about the health
of my niece.

+++

We arrived back at Fort Westgate shortly before 8:00. We had been told that everyone checking out of the
resort must be checked out by 10:00, and that we would not be the last to do
so. Even though we had an early wake-up call the next morning, I spent some
time in my room reflecting upon what had happened over the previous seven days.
Well, the parts that didn't include murder. I had done things that had been
unfamiliar to me. Took a vacation. Visited an amusement park and had even
ridden the rollercoasters. Went shopping for something other than food and
books, and enjoyed it. Played miniature golf. Visited a house of mirrors, and a
haunted house of sorts. Was retirement starting to change me? If so, did I
welcome the changes? How soon before I would be ready to take another vacation?
I had enough money that I could go whenever I wanted, as long as I stuck to a
budget. And so could Lou. If I went somewhere, would it be back to Gatlinburg
or somewhere else? And if I went, would I go by myself, travel with Lou again,
or take Jennifer? I knew that if my plans included Jennifer, that we would be
getting separate rooms. I'm too much of a gentleman and she's too much of a
lady to insist on anything else. Things might have changed for some people, and
some things might be changing in my life, but not that one. I would still use
the Bible as my roadmap for living. Oh, I would still mess up, like the bad
thoughts I always have about my next-door neighbor, and a few other things
where I wouldn't do what Jesus would do. But then one of us isn't perfect. Just
trying to improve each and every day. I was sure Lou and I would talk about our
vacation and the road ahead after we picked up Lightning and headed back to
Hilldale from Lexington. But our thoughts had always been similar, and I
figured the vacation and retirement had affected both of us the same. But our
little talk was still twenty-four hours away. And right then it was time for me
to go to bed. My last night in the more than comfy king-size bed. Did I like the
large bed so much that I would spring for one when I got home? Probably not,
but when it came time to buy another bed I might look at the king-size variety,
even though I'm not as king-size as I used to be.

+++

Maybe it was the
anxiousness of knowing in a few hours Lou and I would be leaving our vacation
paradise and heading home, but I woke up in the middle of the night and had to
go to the bathroom. On my way back to bed the toes on my right foot found the
bottom of the bedpost and I hopped on one foot until I could fall into the bed.
Once there, and still in pain, I contemplated whether on my next vacation I
would bring glow-in-the-dark tennis balls on wires or wear steel-toed shoes to
bed. Or I could take battery-powered night lights to place on the floor at
every dangerous intersection

I woke up Friday morning
and lay there a few minutes. As usual, the sun got up before I did. No one
could see in so I never made it a point to pull the blinds on the back side of
my suite. I stepped out onto the balcony, leaned over to make sure I was quite
alone. I was going to miss this place. Oh, not enough to move to Tennessee, but enough to make sure I came back before I forgot what it was like.

After a few minutes I
looked at my watch. It was time to shower, spend a few minutes with God, and
finish packing. Once I had done that and checked with Lou to see if he was
ready, I called and explained that we had come on a tour bus, and asked for
some assistance in getting my things down to the bus. I was told that someone
would be up in a few minutes, and I said that I would wait out front.

For a change I walked
out the door before Lou and started down the steps to the parking lot. It was
only fitting that I went down first. On my way down the steps I almost tripped
when I looked down and saw Lt. Curlee down at the bottom, standing in front of his
car, waiting for me. Surely he didn't have more questions for me, or think that
I had interfered with his investigation. Maybe he wanted my help. But it was
too late for that. I would soon be on my way home. At least I hoped I would
soon be on my way home. And I hoped he hadn't come after my donuts. I did have
a few left.