Trials

 Sundown in zion

CHAPTER FORTY-six

             First thing next morning, Nelson phoned the Stubblefields and asked to come over. Thirty minutes later, he sat in Eli’s shop drinking coffee with Eli and enjoying some French toast Martha had prepared. Eli listened to the details of Bonnie Sue Anderson’s murder that Nelson was at liberty to relate. When he had finished silence invaded the room.

            “So, her death is apparently related to Abbey’s,” said after a long wait. His face showed no emotion.

            “There’s no doubt in my mind,” said Nelson. “I’m also more and more convinced that both are related to the disappearance of Bridgette Thompson.”

            Nelson had omitted the paintings of imitation gang signs on Bonnie Sue’s body. He had simply related that the body revealed a single gunshot wound and had been dumped at the crime scene.

            Eli sipped his coffee, then said. “There is no further news on Abbey?”

            “I must say,” Nelson said, “that is true for things that directly affect Abbey.” He stopped and considered his words carefully. “Let me ask you a question, though, one military man to another.”

            Eli sighed. “Why not?”

            “What happens,” Nelson said, “when a mission become complicated and more complicated, then the Brass adds maneuvers until it becomes more complicated still?”

            It took Eli some few seconds to reorient his concentration. He drank more coffee. “It gets complicated?”

            “And the chances for success in carrying out the mission?”

            Eli raised his head, looked Nelson in the eyes, and said, “The chances for success of the mission decrease in direct proportion to the complexity of the mission and the degree and quality of the planning that goes into it.”

            Nelson didn’t reply straight away. He let the thought germinate. After this pause, he said, “And then?”

            “Good strategy and bad tactics, there is a possibility for success. Good strategy and good tactics, success is imminent. Bad strategy always leads to failure, despite the tactics.” His appearance brightened.

            “So, if we are facing an enemy using an apparent strategy devoid of insight, and amateur tactics”?

            “What are you trying to tell me?”

            “Things associated with both murders,” Nelson said, “lead me to believe that we are dealing with someone or some group that isn’t very bright. “They made mistakes with Abbey. They made more mistakes with Bonnie Sue. And, if Bridgette’s disappearance is involved, they are almost certain to make more mistakes. Remember the famous quote from The Battle of the Bulge?”

            “Nuts?”

            “That was a great one, but not the one I’m thinking of.”

            “What then?” Eli become more animated.

            “They’ve got us surrounded again, the poor bastards.”

            For the first time since Nelson had known him. Eli Stubblefield smiled.

            They talked at length about the facts, as both knew them. Nelson asked Eli if he had any idea how their car might have ended up back in Little Rock if Abbey’s murder wasn’t related to the city in any way. Why would the murderer, or murderers, transport Abbey’s body all the way to Connorville if they had wanted to indicate the murder occurred in Little Rock in the first place.

            “That’s thorny question,” Eli said.

            “Quite,” Nelson said. “But once again, I don’t think we are talking about the largest caliber weapons in the arsenal.”

            Eli laughed this time. “So,” he said. “What are you planning next?”

            “The Sheriff and his men are busy with Bonnie Sue’s crime scene. I don’t want to get in their way right now. I think I’ll drive over to where Bridgette’s mother works and see if I can visit with her for a few minutes.”

            Eli’s head snapped to attention. “Wait one,” he said. He swiveled in his seat and depressed the button on the intercom connecting the shop with the house. “Hey babe,” he said. While he waited, he turned back to Nelson and said. “Could I go with you?”

            A voice answered the intercom. “Yes master?”

            Eli looked at Nelson, who nodded. Eli said, “Gideon and I are going for a ride. Okay?”

            “Not to a bar?” Martha said, sounding as though she were only half joking.

            “No,” Eli said. “To a dope den.” Eli was transforming himself before Nelson’s eyes. The incapacitated, grieving father was surrendering to the confident warrior.

            “Don’t spend too much,” Martha said. “You watch him, Gideon.”

            “Aye aye, madam.”

            Ramona Thompson met them in a coffee shop on the ground floor of the office building where she worked. She was striking, in business attire, and looking extremely professional. She had met Eli before, so they embraced warmly. She shook Nelson’s hand. “Thanks to both of you,” she said. “I’m assembling the most boring brief in the history of American jurisprudence. Your call may have preserved my sanity.” She had ordered a soft drink, and she stopped for a drink. “Now,” she said, “how can I help you gentlemen?”

            Nelson spoke. “I may have indicated this last time we spoke,” Nelson said, “but I’m even more convinced now that Abbey’s death,” he nodded at Eli, “and Bridgette’s disappearance, are related more than anyone imagines.”

            Ramona took a long breath. “They were friends, no doubt about it,” Ramona said. Eli nodded.

            “When Eli suggested coming with me,” Nelson said, “it dawned on me that visiting with you two together might point to some angle I hadn’t considered.” He was drinking coffee. He stared at his cup. “Let me start by saying that some folks in Armistead County think Bridgette may have run away to seek a career in the movies.” Ramona looked at him.

            “She was attractive enough for it,” Eli said, “but no.”

            “No?” Nelson prodded for more. “Are you sure?”

            “Yes,” Eli said. “If you could have seen those girls planning their futures, you would be too.”

            Nelson looked at Ramona. She nodded and said, “Bridgette wasn’t vain about her good looks,” she said. “She considered them a random factor of nature, nothing more. She thought true gifts had to be worked for and earned. That, as you know, was what sent her to the Ransom Center.”

            Nelson tacked. “The partial sheet from the letter she was writing. Can you fill Eli in on that?”

            Ramona said, “I can do better than that. I carry a copy with me and re-read it whenever I’m on break.” She reached into her purse and retrieved a worn, folded sheet. She handed it to Eli and said, “I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out to whom she was sending it.” She explained that it was a discarded draft segment and she had no idea who the addressee might be.

            Eli read the words slowly, nodding his head. He looked up at the other two in turn, but held on to the sheet. “I have doubts,” he said, “that this was intended for Abbey.”

            Nelson said, “How can you be so sure?”

            Eli read the sheet again. He placed it slowly on the table. “First, let me assure you of one thing. Abbey was heterosexual. There’s no way the letter could have been intended for her. That having been said, I have been around these girls a lot. I never spied on them, but I have heard them talking privately when I walked by. They didn’t go in for ‘boy talk’ or teenage girl infatuations. They talked academics and sports. Period. I’ve never been around two more focused people in my life.”

            “What about Abbey and Martin?” Ramona asked.

            Nelson spoke up. “I’ve a reliable source who discounts Martin as a romantic person in Abbey’s life,” he said.

            Eli asked quickly, “What age is your source? Adult or student?”

            “Adult,” Nelson said. “Absolutely.”

            “Perhaps then we can trust the belief. Abbey was never a person to seek advice from someone her own age."

            “Did Bridgette have any other friends that might have asked her advice on romance?”

            “Maybe someone in school, but I can’t think of one with whom she was that close.”

            “If you should think of anyone,” Nelson said to Ramona, we could talk to her and see if she knows any reason why Bridgette might have wanted to leave the Ransom Center early.” He looked at the other two. “In the meantime, I’ll ask Martin next time I see him if Abbey ever mentioned a third girl.”

            Ramona seemed to sag. Then she raised her head and took in a long breath. “I’ll try,” she said, “but I’m so tired. God, I’m so tired.” She began to sob quietly, shielding her face from the other tables. “Eli,” she said, “I feel like I’m ready to join you and accept the fact that my daughter is dead as well, I’m tired of holding out hope when while hope slides away each day. I think it may be time to accept the truth. It’s so hard to think that hate may have killed my daughter, just as it did yours. An accident would have been hard to bear, but hate … hate.”

            Eli leaned toward her, slowly as not to attract attention. He placed a hand on hers. “Ramona,” he said. “Look me.” When she didn’t, he shook patted her hand. “Look at me,” he said, more forcefully this time. She raised her eyes at last. “Now listen,” he said. “Don’t ask me why, but I know that if you keep faith in your heart, your daughter is alive and will find the strength to stay alive. I know it. Can you hear me?”

            She nodded and dabbed her eyes with a napkin. “Will you do it for me?” Eli said. “Do it for me, and Bridgette, and Abbey? Will you stay strong for all of us?”

            “Yes,” she said softly. “Yes I will.”

            “Good,” he said. “Now go back to work and don’t cry anymore. Bridgette needs for you to be strong.”

            Nelson had watched the exchange and now said nothing. He waited until Ramona had wiped her eyes again, rose and said to him, “I’ll be waiting for any word from you.” She looked at Eli, smiled, and said, “Thanks. I needed that.” She left the two alone and returned to work.

            Nelson looked at Eli and said, “Now I understand all those promotions you received.”

            “I don’t know what came over me,” Eli said. “I just started talking and couldn’t stop.”

            “Whatever it was,” Nelson said. “don’t lose that feeling.” He stood, leaned over, patted Eli on the shoulder, and said, “Now let’s go find the sorry sons of bitches that have caused all this pain.”