The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land (17 page)

I lay awake thinking about that beautiful girl, Charlotte. I was wondering where she might be and how someone so young could have already had experiences that others would not have in a lifetime.
 
I was also praying that nothing bad had happened.

It was very late in the night when I finally fell asleep.

Strategy

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I
thought Nickie would faint when I walked into the restaurant and waved – it was 5 minutes past 8.
 
Leroy was already seated in the booth and had coffee ready for both of us.

I ordered biscuits and gravy, and we ate while he briefed me on the Bosley Buick caper.
 
He was still a bit sensitive about the whole thing, but I know it was a big feather in his cap to get these guys behind bars – where they belonged.
 
Alfred E. Dollar would turn states evidence and probably seek a reduced sentence.
 
Jack Logan was already in town and suing for a petition to have all charges against Kathy Ledbetter dropped.

Other than the innocents that were injured at the dealership, I guess things turned out best for everyone.
 
Some bad guys off the streets, some real crooks behind bars and a truly innocent person relieved of criminal charges.

Leroy was happy – even though he was too proud to say so.

“Did you bring the ransom note?” he asked.

I gave him the note and he read it – more than twice.

“Okay, Carson, you go first.
 
I would like to hear your thoughts before I give you mine.”

“Leroy, something here just doesn’t add up.
 
I’m having difficulty trying to understand who would kidnap this girl.
 
Her father?
 
I doubt that.
 
But maybe he hired it done - maybe he hired one of the Memphis Mafia folks to do this.
 
But stand alone, I don’t see this as something the boys in Memphis would be involved in – makes no sense.
 
However, we do know Travis Luckey needs money, so maybe he had somebody snatch her for ransom to pay his debts.
 
That’s one idea.”

“Others ideas?” he asked.

 
“Yes. Maybe there is no kidnapping at all.
 
Maybe Charlotte is staging this whole scenario and hiding away somewhere just to get money from Phillip Chaney.
 
Maybe her mother is somehow involved and helping Charlotte.
 
Maybe her father is working with Charlotte to extort the money.
 

Or maybe there really is a kidnapping and that ex-football coach grabbed her and is trying to put his financial life back together.
 
Or maybe the ex-boyfriend kidnapped her to recover his family money.
 
Or maybe any combination of the above – all of which seem way out in left field.
 
You agree?”

“I do agree.
 
You got any other ideas?” Leroy asked sipping coffee.

“Yes, but I don’t like to think about them,” I reluctantly said.

“Carson, I need to hear them all.
 
Remember, you started steering this boat – I need to know where you think it might go.”

“Maybe there is no ransom demand.
 
Maybe, for whatever reason, Mr. Phillip Chaney has done away with Charlotte and is using this to cover his crime.
 
Or, maybe Travis Luckey knows she is missing and is trying to make a quick dollar – in that case her missing wouldn’t be missing, it would be dead.
 
Regardless Leroy, any scenario I can come up with that doesn’t involve Charlotte trying to get money from Phillip Chaney is not a good one.
 
Make sense?”

“Unfortunately, Carson it all makes very good sense.
 
I’m not experienced in handling kidnapping, but this has a different smell to it - I agree.
 
 
I’m going to call in the FBI and brief them on what we have – I’m not sure what they will want to do.
 
We’ll just have to cooperate and follow their lead.”

“How long can you wait before doing that?” I really didn’t want the FBI involved, just yet.

“I can’t wait – you know the rules.”

“Leroy, give me 24 hours.
 
I promise that when Phillip gets money delivery instructions, you can call the FBI.
 
Just lay it all on me – tell them I didn’t tell you anything about the ransom note until after he got delivery instruction.
 
But, I agree with you, they must be involved with any ransom delivery.
 
Can you do that?”

“Why, Carson, what is the point?
 
What are you trying to do?”

 
“I made a promise to Phillip Chaney to not get Charlotte hurt by involving the police, and I want to fulfill that promise.
 
If the FBI jumps in and she turns up dead, then it becomes our fault.
 
If Phillip Chaney’s not involved, then he will play this through and we let the FBI handle it.
 
If he is involved, then we have him where we want him – it’s that simple.”

“Let me think on that for a few minutes.” I don’t think I had him convinced yet.

“Okay, Leroy, think about this too.
 
If Phillip Chaney is telling the truth, somebody had to be in Memphis to deliver the note.
 
And you told me Travis Luckey didn’t have a car – so unless he found other transportation, or got off the train in Memphis – we definitely have a Memphis connection.
 
Now, while you think – give me your ideas.”

“Carson, I know most of the players.
 
While I don’t know much about the Memphis Mafia group, I cannot rule them out.
 
They want money out of Travis, and probably her step-dad, Curtis Turner too.
 
I think they would go to whatever lengths to get that money – even if that meant kidnapping Charlotte.
 
Regardless of who’s responsible, I believe Travis Luckey is somehow involved.
 
I don’t know Phillip Chaney, but that’s going to change within the next couple of hours.
 
I think I can get a pretty good read and know if he’s sincere and honest about the ransom – but I need to talk with him first. Involvement by the other people is just a crapshoot. They are all capable of pulling some stunt like this – believe me.”

“So, what do we do next?” I asked.

“I’m going to give this 24 hours and continue to handle as a missing person case. I’m headed to Jackson to talk with Phillip and I suggest you call him and tell him I am coming.
 
If nothing happens and he doesn’t get money delivery instructions by tomorrow morning, then I will be turning the whole package over to the FBI.
 
I have no choice.”

“Fair enough.
 
I’ll call Phillip and tell him you are coming.
 
My instructions to him were no outside contact and no outside phone calls – please re-emphasize that to him.
 
He is also to let me - us - know when he is contacted about a money drop.
 
That okay?”

“Yes, that’s okay.
 
What are your plans?” he asked.

“I’m going to see Mrs. Turner – Charlotte’s mother – and offer my assistance in looking for her daughter.
 
I’ll be interested to see what comes out of that meeting.”

~

W
e finished our coffee and he left with a promise to talk again after he visited with Phillip Chaney.
 
I headed to the outside payphone.

Phillip answered on the first ring.
 
He said my call was the only call he had received and he had not made any outgoing calls.
 
I told him sheriff Leroy Epsee would be over to see him within a couple of hours.
 
He should answer all questions and cooperate in any way he could.
 
I explained to Phillip that we would be involving the FBI, but not until he received ransom delivery instructions.
 
I told him I would call him back before the end of the day.

I headed back into the restaurant to find a phone book. “Nickie, do you have a phonebook?
 
I need to find an address.”

“What’s wrong with the one at the outside payphone?”

“You are kidding – right?
 
There hasn’t ever been a phonebook with that phone – just that stupid chain hanging where one is supposed to be.”

“Carson, don’t yell at me, I didn’t know.
 
I can’t understand why anyone would want to steal a phonebook – they give them away.
 
But if you would use the phone inside, it has a phonebook.”

“Nickie, to my knowledge you are the only person that can hear anything on that phone. I don’t know which was there first, the phone or the jukebox, but they certainly do not belong together.”

Nickie pulled a phonebook from behind the bar. “Here’s your phonebook.
 
Who you trying to find?”

“Curtis and Loretta Turner.
 
You know them?”

“Never heard of them.
 
They local?”

“Somewhere between here and Trenton.
 
Gibson Wells, I think.”
 

I found the address – Curtis Turner, Rt. 6, Gibson Wells.
 
They had a phone listed, but I decided not to call.
 
I would somehow try to find the house and show up unannounced.
 
I liked that plan better.

~

T
hirty minutes later I arrived in Gibson Well, Tennessee.
 
There wasn’t really a town, just a couple of stores located on Hwy 54 – the Trenton/Alamo highway.

One building seemed abandoned and had been without attention for a few years.

The other had signs of life, so I went in to inquire about the Curtis Turner residence.

The nice lady behind the ancient service counter was very helpful – she knew the Turner family well.

Her directions sent me north on Hwy 54, where I should exit left onto Layman Road.
 
The Turner residence would be about a mile down Layman Road, on the right hand side.

I grabbed a soda from her drink box and headed toward the Curtis Turner residence.

The house was located just where the lady said it would be, and the mailbox read: Curtis and Loretta Turner, Rt.6, Gibson Wells.

I turned in the gravel driveway and saw no cars that appeared to be operational.
 
So, I was surprised when a dark-haired, middle aged woman stepped out onto the porch.
 
She held the screen door open and stared at me with a facial expression that said ‘who are you?’

As I approached the porch, and got closer to where she was standing, there was no question this lady was Charlotte Luckey’s mother. Although wrinkled with age and hardened with miles, she had the same features I had seen in Charlotte.
 
When younger, I’m sure Loretta Luckey had been a very beautiful woman.

She was still holding the screen door open when I introduced myself.

“Mrs. Turner?
 
My name is Carson Reno.
 
Sheriff Epsee asked me to drop by.
 
He told me of your trouble and has asked me to help him – and you – in locating Charlotte.
 
Do you have a few minutes?”

She was wearing a faded blue cotton dress surrounded by a kitchen apron that was showing a lot of fresh stains.
 
Her voice was shaky, but pleasant.

“Please call me Loretta.
 
And again, who are you?” she asked.

“My name is Carson Reno.
 
I’m a private detective from Memphis, but I grew up in Humboldt.
 
In fact, my parents still live there.
 
Sheriff Epsee and I are old friends, and since I was in town on another matter, he asked me to see if I could help him find your daughter.
 
I thought the best place to start was to talk with you.”