The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land (18 page)

“Please come in Mr. Reno and excuse the mess.
 
I’m canning butter beans and I believe I have more on me than I have in the jars.
 
Do you like butter beans Mr. Reno?”

“Call me Carson, and yes, I love butter beans.
 
Did you have a good crop this year?” The aroma from the cooked butter beans was knee deep in the house.
 
It was lunchtime and I hadn’t eaten - the smell was making me hungry.

“Oh no.
 
These came from my neighbor down the road.
 
We don’t have a garden and I wouldn’t have the time to tend it.
 
I am a hairdresser by trade and operate ‘Loretta’s Hair Care’ in Humboldt.
 
I’m sure you have seen it – we’re next to Baggett’s Market on 22
nd
.”

“Yes, I know your shop.” I had never seen the place.

“How can I help you Mr. Reno – I mean Carson?”

“I would like for you to repeat what you have already told the sheriff and allow me to ask a few questions – will that be okay?”

“Sure, but there isn’t very much to tell.
 
She left here last Friday afternoon headed to a party at the Maxwell home.
 
I expected her to be late, but she did say she would be coming home that night.
 
That is the last time I saw my daughter.
 
They found her car at Bailey Park – and that’s all I know.”

“Has Charlotte ever done anything like this before?
 
I mean go missing for several days?”

“No sir.
 
If she weren’t coming home she would always call and let me know where she was.
 
Mr. Reno – I mean Carson, we talk all the time – like a mother and daughter should.
 
Even when she was in college, she would call me most every day.
 
Now she’s been gone 4 days and …”
 
She wasn’t able to hold back the tears any longer.
 
“Excuse me Mr. Reno, let me wipe my face – I’ll be right back.”

She headed off toward the kitchen and I used the opportunity to take a look around the room. The usual stuff, but the photos were only of Charlotte – no other family member in any of the pictures.
 
On the small mantel were a couple of trophies – one reading Miss Peabody and another reading Hostess Princess West Tennessee Strawberry Festival.

Loretta had her composure when she came back in to the living room.

“I’m sorry Mr. Reno, I’m sure you understand.”

“Absolutely.
 
Just a couple more questions and I’ll leave you alone.
 
How often does Charlotte see her father?”

“Never, I hope.
 
That bastard is worthless.
 
Please excuse my language, but he gambled away everything he or we ever had.
 
He showed up here several days ago needing money and I had to call the sheriff.
 
He hit me Mr. Reno – he hurt me.
 
I don’t want Charlotte around somebody like him – which is why we’re divorced.
 
Her step dad, Curtis, is nice to her.
 
Unfortunately he isn’t around much – he’s a truck driver and is gone most of the time.
 
But he worships Charlotte – I know that much.”

“Does your ex-husband, Travis, have a car?”

“Not to my knowledge.
 
He sometimes borrows a car from one of his gambling friends, but he doesn’t own one – doesn’t own much of anything, I suppose.”

“Do you know Phillip Chaney?” I asked.

“Nope, never met him.
 
But Charlotte has sure told me a lot about him – I think she really likes him. I understand he has money and comes from a nice Memphis family.
 
I hope they get together, she needs something good to happen.”

“Tell me about Billy Vickers,” I asked calmly.

“He’s worthless too.
 
His family thought he and Charlotte were going to get married, so they gave her money to go to college – now they want it back.
 
I don’t talk to them Mr. Reno, we don’t get along.”

 
“I’m going to let you get back to your butter beans and I promise to call you when we find out anything on Charlotte’s whereabouts.
 
Will that be alright?”

“Yes, please.
 
My number is in the book and I’m sorry to keep calling you Mr. Reno – I know you said call you Carson.
 
But you are so nice and professional – the Mr. Reno just sounded better to me.”

“That’s fine.
 
Calling you Mrs. Turner sounded better to me too.
 
I’ll be in touch.”

“Wait, Mr. Reno.
 
Let me give you some canned butter beans.
 
I’ll be right back.”

She came back with a large brown paper bag containing 6 jars of fresh canned butter beans.
 
I was hungry enough to eat them standing in her living room.

“Thank you Mrs. Turner – I can’t remember when I last had canned butter beans.
 
Can I ask you one more question?”

“Sure.
 
What is it?” she said turning to face me.

“Do you know if your ex-husband might have a key to Charlotte’s car?”

“No idea.
 
He could, I suppose.
 
Why do you ask?”

“I’m not sure, Mrs. Turner.
 
Thank you so much for your information and especially thank you for the canned butter beans.
 
My kitchen will not know how to react.
 
I’ll call you with any information.”

I headed back to the highway with plans to get to Chiefs for lunch.
 
I also was hoping to catch up with Leroy after his talk with Phillip.
 

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for Charlotte’s mother.
 
She was such a nice person, and I’m sure it would be rough on her if something had happened to Charlotte.

~

T
he dark blue 61 Chrysler was parked at the Gibson Wells store and it pulled out behind me when I went by.
 
 
They followed 3 or 4 hundred yards back – making no effort to stop me.

~

T
he road to and from Gibson Wells takes you through the black neighborhoods of Humboldt – an area known as
‘the
Crossing’
.
 
The name denotes the point where the north/south Gulf, Mobile & Northern (GM&N) and the east/west Louisville and Nashville (L&N) railroads cross.
 
During the harvest season, the Crossing is where farmers bring their crops to be graded, packed and shipped on railroad cars to various processing plants. While some strawberries are routed this way, the majority of activity is centered on cabbage, corn, melons and tomatoes. Trucks will line up for miles waiting to unload produce at the various packing sheds for grading and packing.
 
These sheds operate around the clock with the employees working 80 to 100 hours per week.
 
Farmers want to be unloaded quickly and get back to their farms to gather more products.
 
The produce buyers want to make sure fruits and vegetables are rapidly processed and on their way to market as soon as possible. This was harvest season, and the Crossing was bustling with activity. Trucks lined both sides of the road and occupied most every available parking area.

I figured the Chrysler occupants had learned from the storekeeper who I was visiting and this tail was more of a way to harass me, rather than being interested in my business.
 
I don’t like harassment and I don’t like to be followed.

I pulled over and parked at the old icehouse - got out of my car and waited for them to come by.

The Chrysler pulled in next to my Ford.
 
Brad Knuchols was driving and Mickey Campbell riding shotgun – there were two other men in the back seat – Mafia ‘tough guys’ I assumed.
 
Mickey got out, lit a cigarette and walked up to where I was standing.

“Mr. Reno – I don’t think we have had the pleasure, please allow me to introduce myself, my name is Mickey Campbell.” He handed me a business card.

429-8046

“Okay – now that you have introduced yourself.
 
You want to tell me why you were following me?” I was not nice.

“Following you?
 
Not at all – Mr. Reno.
 
My associates and I were just checking on some property in the Gibson Wells area when we saw you.”
 
Brad Knuchols had gotten out of the car and was now leaning against the hood.
 
The other two remained in the back seat.

“Saw me? So you must know who I am.” I didn’t think I was going to like his answer.

“Yes I, I mean we, do know who you are.
 
We know you are looking into the disappearance of that beauty queen – Charlotte Luckey.
 
An unfortunate situation.
 
Any luck?”

“Frankly, that’s none of your business, Mr. Campbell.
 
I don’t like being followed and I don’t like your conversation or your questions.
 
Now, just tell me what you want and let’s all get on with our business.
 
I’m sure you and your associates have lots of real estate to show and sell today.”

“Mr. Reno, my associates – and myself – want you to know that we had nothing to do with the disappearance of this beauty queen.
 
So, as you continue your efforts to try to find her, please make sure you channel those efforts in some other direction – not our way.
 
Understand?”

“Well Mr. Campbell, this is really interesting.
 
You and ‘your associates’ are in Gibson Wells checking up on this missing girl’s mother and stepfather.
 
Then you see me, and know that I have been to visit with them.
 
Now you, and ‘your associates’, find it necessary to tell me you had nothing to do with her disappearance?
 
Has someone asked you if you were involved?”

 
“No, and we don’t intend to be asked by you, that hick sheriff or anyone else.
 
Just stay out of our business and look somewhere else for your lost girl.
 
We’re sorry she’s missing and we hope you find her – but don’t stick your nose into our business – it wouldn’t be healthy.”

“Tell you what – Mr. Campbell.
 
I know you met and talked with her father, Travis Luckey, last Friday at the Country Club.
 
You tell me what that meeting was about and I’ll promise to keep my nose out of your business. OK?”

Before I finished speaking, Brad Knuchols was already standing behind me.
 
Then the other two ‘goons’ got out of the back seat and walked over.

“Jeez, Mr. Campbell.
 
You got enough help?
 
Think you four guys can handle me?” I was hoping they were just showing muscle.

“Let’s leave it at this, Mr. Reno.
 
If you interfere with me or any of my business activities – Mr. Brody and Mr. Russoti will be coming to see you.
 
Have you met Mr. Brody and Mr. Russoti?
 
Should I introduce you?”

“No need.
 
All these grease-balls look and smell alike anyway.
 
Have them wear a name tag, so I can tell them apart.”
 
They didn’t like that statement, and Brad Knuchols was holding them both back.

“Mr. Reno, you have a very smart mouth.
 
I just hope you get to keep the teeth that are in it.
 
Please remember our conversation – we are not involved in this young girls disappearance.”

Saying that, they all got back into the Chrysler and left. Probably had some big real estate deal waiting.

~

I
got back to Chiefs and finally ordered some lunch.
 
Ronnie was offering meat loaf, white beans, corn and a roll – I placed my request with Nickie.

She only had one message – it was from Larry Parker.
 
He was in his office and let me know that the package did contain a file – but he didn’t know what was in it.
 
He did say the DA was reviewing the contents and he would call me back when he had more information.

I was thinking about desert when Leroy’s cruiser pulled into the parking lot.
 
He opened the door, waved at some potential voter and joined me at the counter.

“How did your meeting with Phillip Chaney go?” I asked.

“Not good Carson, not good at all.
 
When I got to Holiday Inn he was gone.
 
I found him and his brother at the Humboldt airport warming up his plane.”

“Brother?
 
Where the hell did a brother come from?
 
Nobody has ever mentioned a brother and he wasn’t to see or talk to anybody – including family members.
 
Can’t this guy follow simple instructions?”

“His story is that he got the ransom call with instructions and was following through with those instructions.
 
Didn’t he call you?”

“No he did not – I don’t think.
 
Nickie, I didn’t get a call from Phillip Chaney, did I?” I shouted across the room.

She stared at me hard. “Carson, when you walked in here I gave you your messages – there was just one.
 
Did I give you a message from Phillip Chaney?”

“No, you did not.”

“Then you didn’t have a message from Phillip Chaney.” She was really making me feel bad for asking.

“Leroy, what were the instructions?” I was pissed, or disappointed – not sure which, but probably both.

“He is to fly to the Halls Airstrip and land at 4:00.
 
Taxi to the end of the west runway and leave a briefcase with the money at the end of the airstrip.
 
Then he is to leave.
 
That’s it.”

“Halls?”

“Yes, not an active airport anymore.
 
They use it for drag racing on weekends, but it is isolated.
 
Makes some sense.”

“Is he going?”

“Sure, but not alone – his brother is going with him.
 
It’s only a 20-minute flight, so he won’t be leaving for a couple of hours.
 
I’ve contacted the FBI in Jackson and they have assigned agents Giltner and Raines to handle.
 
I need that ransom note and take it to Jackson.
 
The FBI wants to see the note before the drop.
 
They won’t be in touch with Chaney, but will be at the airport to apprehend whoever shows up for the pickup.”

I handed Leroy the note. “You headed to Jackson now?”

“Yep – you want to tag along?” he asked.

“Yes, let’s go.”

“Carson, are you sure?
 
These FBI guys are going to question you – be prepared.”

“I’ve nothing to hide – let’s go.” I was serious.

We jumped in Leroy’s cruiser and sped off toward the FBI office in Jackson.
 
This gave me a chance to share with him my conversation with Loretta Turner and my roadside meeting with Mickey Campbell and his goons.

“What’s your take on Mickey Campbell?” he asked.

“Cheap thugs.
 
I’m no longer convinced they don’t have a part in this kidnapping or Charlotte’s disappearance – but I don’t think it’s their doing.
 
However, they are now afraid that all the attention will muddy up their business.
 
Why can’t you lock these crooks up?”

“Can’t catch them doing anything.
 
We pick up some scraps but these guys keep themselves above getting busted.
 
They operate over several jurisdictions and none of us really have the manpower to devote full time personnel toward organized crime activity. The Federal boys need to handle that – but they don’t.
 
We’ll get them one day – crime doesn’t pay forever.
 
Just ask the Bosley brothers!”

“I hope I can be there next time – when it happens.”
 
We both laughed.

“Carson, one other thing I forgot to tell you – Charlotte’s car is missing.”

“What does that mean – missing?”

“We examined the car when we found it in Bailey Park.
 
We found nothing.
 
So it was towed to Deloch for storage – it’s that simple.
 
 
Deloch called the office this morning and said the car was missing – guess overnight somebody stole it or took it, for a reason.”

“What kind of car does she have?”

“1958 Ford Thunderbird – White.
 
Nice car but a lot of miles on it.”

“I think Travis has that car,” I said

“Travis? Does he have a key?” Leroy was now interested.

“I don’t know, but if he has played the role I think, he needed transportation.
 
Whether he originally parked the car in Bailey Park or not, I think he used the car – maybe to deliver a ransom note in Memphis.
 
Now, maybe, he needs the car again – who knows.
 
Just a theory.”

“Interesting thought.
 
We’ll find the car.
 
You can’t hide that car in this county – trust me.”

“Maybe it isn’t in this county.
 
Maybe it isn’t even in this state.”

 
~

I
spent 45 tough minutes with the FBI agents.
 
They came down on me pretty hard about not immediately turning over the note, but underneath their dark suits and thick skin, I think they understood the reasons for my actions.

Regardless, I got off with a lecture and a warning to stay away from Phillip Chaney until this matter was resolved.
 
I promised to do that – even though I had no intentions of doing so.

Leroy and I headed back to Humboldt. “Carson, I could see it in your eyes – you’ve got something up your sleeve.
 
If you’re smart, you won’t cross the FBI again – you might end up on the wrong side of a jail door.”

“I’m just going to let this thing play itself out first.
 
Well see what happens. I’ll promise to make no moves unless I tell you first. Okay?”

“Okay,” Leroy answered.

~

B
ack at Chiefs, Nickie had taken two calls for me.
 
One was from Larry Parker and the other from Elizabeth Teague.
 
I called Larry first.

He told me the DA had reviewed the package and only had one comment – WOW!
 
He wasn’t sure what that meant, but I think we both knew.
 
He had the goods to make some pretty big heads roll in Memphis and Shelby County Government.
 
This would be fun to watch.

The number Liz left was local, so I knew she must be in town.
 
I called her next.

She answered first ring. “Hey handsome.
 
You in town to see me?”
 
Her conversations always put a good spirit on every situation.

“I won’t lie – yes I am.” I lied.

“Well, I tried your apartment and your office.
 
Marcie said you had gone fishing.
 
Did you catch anything?
 
Let me rephrase that – did you catch anything that you can’t get rid of without a doctor?”

“No, silly.
 
I’ll explain the fishing story later.
 
You available for dinner or maybe a movie?”

“Absolutely. You grab some beer and I’ll pick you up at 7.
 
We’ll go snuggle at the drive-in movie. Okay?

“It’s a date – see you then,” I said hanging up the phone.

Confusion

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I
had a few hours before my date with Liz, so I found a comfortable stool at Nickie’s bar and waited for events to unfold.