The Crossing (26 page)

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Authors: Gerald W. Darnell

BOOK: The Crossing
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“Never mind,” I said to them both.

“Well, ‘Hon’, are you up to it?” Flo asked Joe.

Joe didn’t answer and immediately escorted Flo to the dance floor.
 
Evidently, he had forgotten all about being shot, wrecked in a ditch and left for dead.
 
 
I know I was that young once, and I was trying to remember when!

~

I
watched them dance while continuing to sip Jack and Coke and practice my lip-reading with the news reporters on television.
 
At some point they ran out of ‘new’ news, and began repeating film clips and footage taken earlier in the day.
 
It had gotten dark, Chiefs had gotten crowded and I was contemplating heading to my cabin, when Leroy’s cruiser pulled up out front.
 
He entered casually, so I knew we had no emergency – thank goodness.

Leroy sat on Joe’s unoccupied stool, looked at Joe dancing, then grinned at me. “You just can’t keep a good man down!”

“You just can’t keep a YOUNG good man down, would be a better way to say that.
 
But I’m glad he’s here, we may need him tomorrow.
 
Are you ready?” I said to Leroy.

“Yep, I’m going to tell my guys the story tomorrow morning.
 
You’re going to talk with Raymond’s officers, right?”

“Yes, just as soon as I get back from the
‘Sugar Shack’,
I’m going to City Hall and see who I can find.
 
I’ve asked Raymond to make them available, but that doesn’t mean he will,” I said shaking my head.

“Don’t worry,” Leroy smiled. “They’ll all get the word soon enough.
 
Good and bad news travels fast!”

“How’s your jail?”

“Ha,” Leroy laughed. “Full, but we’ll turn most of them loose tomorrow morning.
 
They’ll pay a small fine for ‘disturbing the peace’ and be back out on the street by nine o’clock.
 
The demonstrators are still there, but at least they are acting civil.
 
And by the way, we never did find that NAACP lawyer.”

“Don’t worry, you will.
 
He’ll have to answer that bench warrant, at some point, and hopefully Judge Graves will throw his gavel at him!” I chuckled.

“What about Yarnell?” I asked Leroy a few moments later.

“Dr. Barker said he took a good beating before freezing to death.
 
He’s going to turn his body over to Baskerville Funeral Home tomorrow; we have no choice.”

“Can we make it tomorrow afternoon?” I hoped.

“Yes, I’ll make sure it happens after lunch and later if possible,” Leroy sighed.

“Can I buy you a beer?” I finally asked Leroy.

“Nope, I’ve got to go.
 
It’s been a busy day and I think we’ve got one planned for tomorrow, right?”

“Right,” I answered quickly. “I’m headed to my cabin when I finish this drink, and I’ll see you tomorrow.
 
If I run into any issues, I’ll call your office and have them contact you on the radio.
 
But unless you hear from me, I will have planted the seed by 9:30 – 10:00 latest.”

Leroy left, and true to my word, I headed toward my cabin after finishing my drink.
 
 
Joe knew to meet me at 8:30 for breakfast, so I left him to figure out how to deal with Flo.
 
After all, he was a grown man – still young, but grown!

~

I
managed to rise early, but
 
wasn’t prepared for the heat that hit me when I walked out of my cabin.
 
It was 8:30 exactly and the sun was already having its way with the humid air.
 
I wondered if it was always this hot this early.
 
I didn’t need to know!
 

Joe had already eaten when I walked in the backdoor of Chefs.
 
I wasn’t ready for food, so I got a cup of coffee to go and we headed the Ford out the Medina Highway and made the left turn on Pleasant Hill Road.
 
Joe had never seen the
‘Sugar Shack’,
and I tried to explain its historical significance during our drive, but somehow I don’t think he understood!

We made the right turn onto the small farm road and then drove across the harvested cotton field, parking behind the building, just as before.
 
In the kitchen area, I moved around some of the trash and placed Tammy’s necklace, with the broken clasp, among the rubble.
 
I left it hidden, so it couldn’t be easily found, and would require some effort from the searcher looking among the beer cans, whiskey bottles and just plain trash.

My task completed, Joe and I left quickly and made the short drive back into Humboldt and to Main Street’s City Hall.
 
Several demonstrators remained outside, but as Leroy had said, they were just singing, waving signs and causing no trouble.
 
Perhaps the riots of yesterday, and the heat of today, would prevent any repeat performances.
 
I hoped so.

I left Joe in the car and I went up the City Hall entrance steps, through the hallway and down the rear stairs.
 
Police Headquarters was on the main floor, but the jail and ‘ready room’ were downstairs, and that is where I would find any of Raymond’s officers that might be available.
 
It was empty.

I was contemplating my next move, when Tony Bailey came walking down the stairs.

“Carson,” he was startled.
 
“What brings you down to the dungeon?”

“Tony, I’m going to need some help today, when you guys get spare time.
 
I know you still have a street full of demonstrators, but I’ve got a clue we need to check out, and I need all the eyes and hands I can find.
 
Who’s on duty today besides yourself?” I asked.

“I’m not sure, Carson.
 
I know Carl is working, but I don’t know who else.
 
I don’t know if we’ll have the time, because we still have our hands full with these demonstrators.
 
What’s this all about?”

“The night Tammy Blurton was murdered she was wearing a necklace, a gold necklace with a gold cross attached.
 
When her body was moved to the morgue that necklace wasn’t with her and we need to find it.
 
It probably has some fingerprints on it and they just might belong to the killer.
 
It could certainly help to prove Henry’s involvement or even his guilt or innocence, make sense?”

“Maybe,” Tony said rubbing his chin.

“Well, please come help if you can.
 
We’ll be down behind the poolroom and drug store searching for the necklace.
 
Leroy’s deputies are aware and they’re going to help us look when they can.
 
Tell Carl about it, and I appreciate any assistance you guys can lend,” I said heading back up the stairs and into the main hallway.

Back in the Ford, Joe and I retraced our journey to the
‘Sugar Shack’
.
 
Only this time, we drove past the field road and turned on an adjoining gravel road, which was about a quarter mile away; I parked the Ford where it couldn’t be seen from the main road.
 
Then we quickly walked back up Pleasant Hill Road, crossed a small fence and made our way through the cotton field and up to the
‘Sugar Shack’
building.
 
Joe and I both brought our pistols.

I stationed Joe in a shady area in the small woods behind the building, and I found myself a spot in the bedroom area of the
‘Sugar Shack’
; I had a good view of the spot where I had placed the necklace.
 
I sat down among the trash and waited.

~

I
t was over an hour before I heard the sounds of a car making its way across the cotton field.
 
From my position I couldn’t see the car, but that didn’t matter; I just waited for what I knew was going to happen next.
 
The car pulled up in the normal parking spot and left the engine running. Then I heard the car door open, but not close.
 
Parking just a couple of feet from the shack’s open back door, it only took a few seconds for him to reach the steps.
 
Walking through the door and into the trash was Officer Carl Menard!

He immediately began kicking and scrambling through the rubble, picking up some items and then tossing them away, while he grabbed another handful – then he stopped!
 
Carl saw the necklace, just as I had placed it, and stared at it for a moment without picking it up – as though he was questioning himself.
 
Carl stood straight up, without touching the necklace and took a step toward the open door.
 
From his expression, I could see that his mind was retracing the incident and trying to remember the necklace.
 
Carl looked around the room, rubbed his eyes and looked at his cruiser, with the motor still running and the door standing open.
 
Then, he quickly bent over, grabbed the necklace, stood up, stuffed it into his shirt pocket and turned toward the door to leave.

“What’cha got there?” I asked loudly, walking out of my dark hiding place and directly toward where he was standing.

Carl turned and almost fell as he tripped over a beer bottle. Regaining his balance, he instinctively reached for his service revolver - I waved my .38 at him shaking my head!

“You don’t want to do that, trust me; you can’t draw that fast.
 
Carl, I don’t want to shoot you and you don’t want to be dead, so why not just unbuckle that utility belt and let all that shit hit the floor. You’re not going to need it anymore.”

Staring at me and not speaking, he did as instructed and unbuckled his utility belt and strap – they made a loud thud as they hit the trash and the floor.
 
Expecting me to relax, he made a quick step to and out the backdoor – then he stopped just as quickly as he had started.
 
Joe was sitting on the hood of his old cruiser waiving his revolver at Carl and shaking his head.
 
Carl got the message, and slowly turned and stepped back into the kitchen to face me.

“Now, before we talk,” I started, “I want you to reach into your back right pocket and throw that back-up piece on the floor along with the rest of your equipment.
 
And when you finish doing that, I want you to bend over and unbuckle that other back-up piece you have strapped to your ankle, and then put it with everything else.”

Carl pulled the small revolver from his back pocket and dropped it on the floor; then he finally spoke.

“That’s it.
 
I don’t have any more guns,” he said staring at me.

“Pull up your pants legs,” I ordered.

Carl didn’t move.

“Pull up your pants legs,” I said again.

“You can’t do this...”he stuttered.

“Pull up your pants legs, and I am not going to ask again.
 
Either pull up those pants legs or pull your pants off, your choice!”

Carl bent over, unbuckled the ankle holster and let it hit the floor.

“You can’t do this,” he said again. “I am a police officer and you’re…you’re just some private dick and you have no authority!
 
You can’t arrest me.”

“Oh, yes I can, and will,” I said frankly. “But, if it will make you feel better, turn around and say hi to Sheriff Leroy Epsee – he’s standing in the doorway.”
 
Leroy had followed Carl on his trip this morning and had pulled up and parked behind Carl’s cruiser while we were arguing over his ankle gun.

“Hi, Carl,” Leroy said smiling.

Carl walked backward through the trash and stood at the edge of the counter.
 
He was facing us and realized it was over.

“What…how…I don’t understand?” he stuttered.

“I don’t have all the answers,” I started, “but I’m sure you will tell us all about it, at some point.
 
You must have been using the
‘Sugar Shack’
for your ‘activities’ for quite some time, because your old boss, Dick Valentine, suggested I ask you about it – but I never got around to it.
 
I guess when you wanted to use the
‘Sugar Shack’
, you would just pull that old cruiser up here and everyone else would hightail it out.
 
After all, you are the police and they would naturally run.
 
However, I had no way to link you to this place until that day in the cemetery, that day you lit up the king sized non-filtered Chesterfield.
 
That’s when I knew you had been here.”

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