Friends

SUNDOWN IN ZION

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Our hero is beginning his investigation into a strange murder.

After leaving the Sheriff’s office, Nelson turned onto the old highway and headed west. When Charlie looked at him, Nelson said, “One more stop, to see an old friend.”

“Hey, you’re driving,” Charlie said. “I’m just happy I’m not sleeping on a riverbank.”

“We all have things to be happy about,” Nelson said. “The Sheriff seemed happy, didn’t he?”

“He wasn’t always?”

“That’s putting it mildly.”

Charlie said, “When are you going to tell me about this great adventure you seem to have had in Armistead?”

“Soon,” Nelson said. “Maybe next year.”

Charlie leaned back and watched the empty fields glide by, appearing like great flat cakes glazed with the March rains. “Crops going to be late this year,” he said. “They like to have corn planted by now.”

“Not much they can do to change the weather,” Nelson said.

“Maybe sacrifice a virgin,” Charlie said. “That’s what our ancestors did.”

“That reminds me,” Nelson said, “did you tell your friend why we are coming to see him?”

“Just that we were interested in the kind of folks that live in Connorville.”

“What did he say to that?”

“You don’t want me to repeat it,” Charlie said.

Before he could continue, Nelson pulled off the highway into a large complex announcing itself simply as “Barker’s” and offering groceries, gas, feed, and hunting supplies. He parked his truck next to a Lincoln Navigator and they climbed out and walked toward the entrance. As Nelson stepped onto the porch, the door swung open and a striking woman in gray business apparel stepped through, almost running into him. Recognition struck them both at once and they stopped in their tracks.

“Morgan,” Nelson said.

“Hello Gideon.”

Neither spoke for several seconds. Finally the woman said, “I heard you were back in the area.” She glanced at Charlie. Nelson found his voice, “This is Charlie Winters,” he said, nodding toward him. “Morgan Fowler,” he said as he turned back toward Morgan. She extended her hand to Charlie and they shook.

“Good to see you,” Nelson said. “I hope you are doing well.”

She smiled. “In business now, I’m doing quite well,” she said. “I don’t imagine you’ve heard, but I run the bank now.”

Nelson looked surprised, “Run the bank?”

“For a fact,” she said. She looked a Charlie and back at Nelson. “I don’t know if you heard but the last officers are no longer able to. Someone must, and the regulators decided I could do it.”

“That was a good decision,” Nelson said. “What brings you out to Barker’s?”

She reddened. “I figured you would be stopping by eventually.” She looked at Charlie again. “I left something for you.” Before Nelson could respond, she said, “Got to run. Nice seeing you.” She nodded toward Charlie. “Sir,” she said. With that, she brushed by them and hurried to her car.

            Charlie turned toward Nelson and started to say something. Before he could, Nelson said, “Not one word,” and he led him through the door.

            Immediately, a booming voice shouted, “Well fry my cracklin’s if it ain’t Boats. My blessings will not cease on this day.”

            Charlie looked to see a stout African-American standing at the register. He immediately came around the counter and rushed toward Nelson. The two embraced as Charlie stood by.

            “Jack me off with a bilge pump and call me a ‘snipe,’ if the United States Navy ain’t docked,” the man said as he stood back and looked Nelson over with a broad smile.

            “Hey Elvis,” Nelson said, “and the Marines too. Meet Charlie Winters. Charlie … Elvis Barker.”

            “You a jarhead?” Elvis said, pumping Charlie’s hand.

            “Got papers to show it,” Charlie said, “right next to my proof of insanity file.”

            “You a friend of his?” Elvis said, indicating Nelson. “If you are, that’s all the proof on insanity you need.” He turned to Nelson. “Boats,” he said, “what the hell you been up to?”

            “Five-ten and holding,” Nelson said. “How about you?”

            “Still fully rigged and on course,” Elvis said. “Come on over to the ‘Collusion Corner.’” He led them to a back table of an area set aside for dining. They sat and the two friends looked at one another.

            Then Elvis spoke. “Town ain’t been the same since you left. Hell, we are flourishing now.”

            “I saw that,” Nelson said. “We just left Sheriff Love’s office.”

            “How about him?” Elvis said. “We can’t call him ‘Old Tub of Love’ anymore.”

            “He looks good,” Nelson said, “and so do you.”

            “Hell man,” Elvis said, “hard work and a piece of ass on odd numbered months keeps a man healthy.” The three laughed.

            Elvis looked at Charlie and said, “How do you know this fool?”

            Before Charlie could answer, Nelson said, “Charlie is staying with me for a while.”

            “Roommate or boarder?”

            “Fellow vet,” Nelson said. “He has a dysfunctional wife.”

            “Hell, can you make room for me too?” Elvis said. The three laughed again. Then Elvis turned to Nelson and became serious. “Are you planning on helping my son?”

            “If I can. That’s why I dropped by here.”

            Elvis said, “To tell me?”

            “No, to see if you knew much about Abbey.”

            Elvis studied a fingernail. “Not much. I met her a couple of times and she seemed like a sweet, bright girl, not as much of a geek as my son, but like him in many ways.”

            Nelson said, “What ways?”

            “Serious, focused, and knowing what they wanted from life.”

            “Was she adventurous, for lack of a better word?”

            “Adventurous? How?”

            “The Connorville Police call her death gang related.”

            “That’s bullshit,” Elvis said. “Bullshit.”

            Nelson said, “You sound certain.”

            “You don’t carry a straight A average in the Genius School and swim like a dolphin if you are fucking around with gangs, Boats.”

            “Good point,” Nelson said. “Is there anything else you know about her.”

            “Smart, beautiful, talented, young with her whole life ahead of her. What else you need to know?”

            “Did Martin ever mention any problems she had? I’ll ask him but he gets pretty emotional talking about it. That’s why I started with you.”

            Elvis stood up and walked to the wall of soft drink coolers. He looked back, “Diet Cokes okay?” The two nodded and he took three cans from a cooler and walked back with them. He sat the drinks in front of the two and the three of them opened them. “Cups?” Elvis said. The others shook their heads. Elvis raised his for a toast and the others responded. “To girls in every port,” he said. They touched cans.

            Elvis looked away and then back. “I know she had been pretty upset about the disappearance of her best friend,” Elvis said. “Abbey had.”

            Nelson said, “Disappearance.”

            “A runaway they say. That’s why I can’t imagine Abbey ever doing drugs.”

            “You’re going to have to explain,” Nelson said.

            “Bridgette Thompson is a white girl who was on Abbey’s swim team,” Nelson said, “and they had been best friends for several years.”

            “And she ran away from home?”

            “No, she ran away from a camp for wayward girls. But first she had gotten on drugs, you know—the kind that helps athletes.”

            Nelson nodded and said, “Performance enhancers.”

            “That was all at first,” Elvis said. “She wanted to be as good an athlete as Abbey, which wasn’t going to happen. So she, according to my son, managed to get hold of some ‘pump you ups’ in an effort to catch up with her friend.”

            “And?”

            “Those drugs agitated her, so she turned to pot to calm her down between times.”

            “And then?”

            “Martin says her parents found out and tried a number ways to straighten her out. So did Abbey. Nothing worked so they took her to this rehab place over in the next county. It’s called ‘The Ransom Center’ or something like that.”

            Nelson said, “Let me guess. She ran away.”

            “Bingo,” Elvis said. “Martin says they took her there with another friend who was onto drugs thinking they would support one another and both be rehabbed.”

            “And it didn’t work?”

            “Worked for the other girl according to Martin. She’s back home now, he says, and doing well with her life. But Bridgette ran off after two weeks. Ain’t nobody heard from her since.”

            Charlie said, “Can I ask a question?”

            “Sure,” Elvis said, “but I’ve told about all I know about the late Abbey Stubblefield.”

            “Maybe you don’t know,” Charlie said, “but I wonder what Abbey was supposed to be doing the night she was killed.”

            “Nobody knows,” Elvis said. “They say she had taken the family car that afternoon and said she had some errands to run. Never came back. They found the car in Little Rock three days later. By then they had found her body in Connorville.”

            “So,” Charlie said, “that’s one of the reasons the local police believes the murder was committed in Little Rock.”

            “Man,” Elvis said, “I haven’t a clue what those fucking police in Connorville think, except as it regards one thing.” He looked at the two men and indicated the conversation had ended.

            They reminisced  for a while, their thoughts broken several times by customers and Elvis moving back and forth between the counter and where the others were sitting. When the store was empty, Nelson finished his soda and banged the empty can on the table. “Well,” he said, “guess that’s enough interrogation for one day.”

            “Glad to help if I can,” Elvis said. “I hope you can catch the motherfucker, or motherfuckers, who did it.”

            “Don’t get your hopes up,” Nelson said. “By the way, did I tell you that I’m going to go to college?”

            “Get the fuck out of here,” Elvis said. “No shit. What you going to study, pussy or partying?”

            “Literature,” Nelson said. “And by the way, I met someone you probably know—Millard’s nephew.”

            “Brains?” Elvis said. “You met Jackson?”

            “He’s my advisor.”

            “Watch him,” Elvis said. “He can be as tricky as his uncle, and just as smart. I always suspicioned that he might have hit a lick in there for old Martin.” He smiled. “The old lady denies it but he didn’t get them brains from me.”

            “No, maybe his mother,” Nelson said, rising.

            “Hell, she married me so she ain’t no rocket scientist either, even if her son is gonna be.” He rose then raised finger. “And speaking of pussy, I got something for you and I ain’t even had a chance to steam it open yet.” He walked the register area, reached under the counter and produced an envelope. “Somebody left this here in case I saw you and you’ll never guess who.”

            “Oh yes I will,” Nelson said, taking the envelope. “I ran into her on the way in.”

            “That woman gets tears in her eyes ever time she says your name,” Elvis said. “Here.” He handed the envelope to Nelson and looked at Charlie. “Did he ever tell you about getting the best piece of ass ever had in Armistead County?”

            Charlie started to speak but Nelson raised a finger toward him. “Not a word,” he said in a mock threat. “Not one word.” Charlie nodded. The two shook hands with Elvis and started toward the door. Just as they reached it, Elvis yelled from the counter.

            “One more thing,” he said walking over to them.

            Nelson turned toward him. “And what would that be Detective Columbo?”

            “I just remembered. Martin did say that Abbey had started going to church before she got killed.”

            “He mentioned that to me,” Nelson said. “Did he tell you why?”

            “No,” Elvis said. “It was odd because neither she nor Martin was what you would call religious. Bothers the wife, but she hopes it may just be a phase.”

            “Do you have any idea why she suddenly turned into a churchgoer?”

            Elvis shook his head, “As my granny would say, son, you jist gonna have to go to de Lawd wif dat.”