Redemption (18 page)

“
Seven. Kid was wrapped up tight as a mummy. What’s this really about, Sheriff?”

Creed said it was three, and these kids had two each?
“Just asking questions, Mr. Jones.”

“
That case was the most thoroughly investigated case in Calhoun city history. We covered every base.”

Not every base. I think you even missed first.
Overton plowed on. “Was there frost on the ground that morning?”

“
Yeah. We had tracks goin’ everywhere, which was a real mess. You familiar with the area?”

“
No.”

“
Well, there are three cemeteries in the same area: Mountainview, then St. Simeon, then Goens Memorial. We found tracks all the way from Mountainview through St. Simeon to Goens. Whoever dumped the baby walked an awful long way.”

To put the baby on a particular headstone.
“Were the tracks there before or after the media got there?”

“
Oh, well before. The media didn’t catch on till the hospital.”

“
Calhoun City Hospital?”

“
No. Selby General was closer.”

That’s why they chose Goens Memorial. The baby couldn’t go back to Calhoun City Hospital. Someone there might have recognized the baby as one of their premies.
“Did you check all area hospitals for possibles?”

“
Sure. More nothin’.”

That’s stranger than strange. Someone from Calhoun City Hospital must have recognized the boy from the photos in the paper.
“And you were convinced it was a white, full-term baby.”

“
That’s what the doctors said.”

The doctors were wrong.
“Any injuries to the baby?”

“
A little abrasion on one ankle and a tiny cut on the forehead.”

From an ID bracelet and an IV?
“But he was otherwise healthy, right?”

“
Yeah. It was a miracle.” Jones coughed. “The kid should have died that night, cold as it was. And it’s a shame what happened to that minister and his wife, the ones who adopted him.”

More tragedy?
“What happened to them?”

“
Plane crash. Happened just last winter. Lucky the kid wasn’t with them.”

Not another coincidence?
“I hadn’t heard about that.”

“
Well, I guess the story got stale after they moved away from Calhoun. There ain’t nothin’ miraculous about raisin’ a kid.”

I wouldn’t know.
“Where’d they move to?”

“
Up to Jersey, I think. The minister was taking a little Cessna out for a spin, and it just dropped out of the sky.”

Overton felt another chill. “It was ruled an accident?”

“
Sure. It was the good reverend’s first solo. Pilot error.”

Or one more accident that was waiting years to happen.
“When was this?”

“
Around the time of the Super Bowl, I think.”

Late January, early February. And a month later, a man drags a pink Cadillac from a junkyard in Calhoun, Virginia.
“Well, you’ve been real helpful, Mr. Jones.”

“
That’s it? You’re goin’ to leave me hangin’?”

“
I’d level with you if I could, honest I would. And I wish I could tell you more, but I haven’t put all the pieces together yet.” He saw Ramsey returning with their snacks.
Barbecue potato chips again? I’ve told him they give me gas.
“If you think of anything else, anything at all, especially those kids’ names, please give me a call.”

“
I’ll make a few calls, maybe check the old files I still have on the case.”

“
You kept some files?”

“
Just my field notes, scribbles mostly. I might have something in there.”

“
Don’t go to any trouble.”
Which is how we say “Please go to the trouble” in Pine County.

“
Ain’t no trouble. You got me thinkin’, and I haven’t done much thinkin’ since I retired. I miss the thinkin’ part. Thanks for callin’.”

Ramsey burst in with the drinks and bags. “Here you go.” He tossed the
Times
and a bag of chips to Overton.

“
Ramsey, you know I hate these things.”

“
Oh, sorry.” Ramsey snatched the bag from Overton’s hands. “More for me.”

“
Don’t get comfortable, Ramsey. You’re going to be busy today.”

“
Doin’ what?”

“
Taking the tape down. When you’re finished, stop by Jimmy Lee’s and let him know.”
And then we’ll see what Jimmy Lee does next.

“
They still aren’t crime scenes?” Ramsey asked.

They might be, they might not be,
Overton thought.
I just have to make something happen.
“They’re not going anywhere, right?”

Ramsey shrugged. “And it ain’t like anyone gonna buy them. Who’d want to live in a dead person’s house?”

After Ramsey drove off in the cruiser, Overton read the main story on page one of the paper (“Anthony On A Collision Course”) and added to his list:

He dialed Autumn’s home number.

“
Hello?”

She sounds sleepy.
“Rise and shine, Deputy Harper. Got a few jobs for you.”

“
What time is it?”

“
Almost eight. Can you get up to Calhoun today?”

“
What for?”

“
Two things. One, I need you to check out a grave marker.”

“
Lovely. Let me write this down.”

He heard a shuffling of paper.

“
Where?”

“
At Goens Memorial Cemetery about six feet from the fence beside Jefferson Apartments. First name Julius. I need the last name, birth and death dates, that sort of thing.”
If they even fit on a little marker like that.

“
Why don’t you just call the cemetery? They could tell you.”

“
I’d, uh, like to keep this quiet.”
I’m on to something, and I don’t want those responsible to know that I am.
“Besides, you’ll need to get up to the
Times
or a library for the second thing.”

“
Am I going to get paid for any of this?”

“
I thought you wanted an exclusive. This is your exclusive.”

“
I do, but I also want to pay a few bills. The
Beacon
is barely making it, you know.”

True.
“I read it every day. Can’t imagine starting my day without it.”

“
Yeah right.”

“
And besides, wouldn’t all this make a dandy book?”

Autumn frowned. “Dandy? This is heart-breaking stuff, Miles. It’ll reopen so many wounds. We’re just lucky the Calhoun media has left us alone. You remember how they descended like locusts for J’s murder. All those so-called investigative pieces on racism and prejudice. Just think how they’d blow all this out of proportion. White folks dumping a mixed baby, an unsolved lynching, three mysterious deaths, the obvious involvement of a state senator and a possible senator-to-be.”

Overton had to agree.
The less folks know about the truth, the better.
“You’re right.”

“
And you don’t have all the facts, right?”

Now she’s echoing me.
“Right. I’ll look into getting you a consultant’s fee or something. If nothing else, I’ll pay you whatever you think is fair out of my own pocket. Okay?”

“
No. That’s all right. You have a ring to buy. What’s the second thing I have to crawl out of bed to do?”

“
The Miracle Baby’s parents died in a plane crash, probably in New Jersey, last January or February.”

“
Oh, how sad.”

“
Yeah, and a month or so later, the Cadillac disappears from a junk yard.”

“
You think they’re connected?”

“
At the rate we’re going, everything is connected in some way. Call me at Lester’s when you find out something. I’ll be here all day.”

“
Where’s Ramsey?”

“
Out taking the tape down.”

“
What for? I thought you said—”

“
I know what I said, Miss Harper,” Overton interrupted sweetly. “I was just stalling, you know, sweating Jimmy Lee a little. Now I just want to see how he’ll react.”

“
So he’s your main suspect?”

For what, exactly? What’s happening now or what happened fifteen years ago? Or both?
“Let’s just put it this way: I haven’t ruled out anyone yet. And I still want to see Jimmy Lee Senior’s will.”

“
Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I’ll call you if I find anything.”

He unfolded and scanned the first page of the
Times.
In the lower left corner was a picture of a woman and a caption: “Woman’s Suicide Shown on CNN.”
Why does she look so familiar?
He turned to page six and read the story:

Overton quickly dialed Autumn, but no one answered.
She couldn’t have left already! Wish I had her cell phone number.
He continued reading:

Overton’s mind went into overdrive.
The forty-fourth floor? Who films the forty-fourth floor of a building? If she had been standing out there a while, I could understand, but only fifteen seconds? Whoever filmed it must have known it was going to happen. Whoever filmed it knew she was going to jump.

Or get pushed!

The phone rang. “Sheriff Overton.”

“
Sheriff, you’re a hard man to reach. This is Pat Price with the NYPD. A former resident of your town—”

“
Margaret Ledbetter,” Overton interrupted, his mind still racing. “I’ve just been reading about it in the paper. What can I help you with?”

“
We’re having trouble locating next of kin. Thought you might be able to help us there.”

“
I won’t be much help. Margaret’s parents are deceased, and we buried the aunt who raised her a few years back. There might be a distant cousin around. I’ll ask around. She just ... jumped?”

“
Yeah.”

“
No warning, no wait?”

“
She was pretty determined. She used her chair to break the window, crawled out, and did a flyer.”

That must have been one heavy chair!
“Any ideas why?”

“
Seems a writer turned down her representation, and she took it hard. But we don’t have the name of the author yet. Just a few asterisks on her appointment book for three o’ clock. Her secretary said the man was Caucasian, about six-foot, nice-looking, pleasant, even asked her to get a vanilla latte.”

Jimmy Lee drinks that shit.
“Vanilla latte?”