The Price of Beauty in Strawberry Land (20 page)

“Right.
 
Let’s go, I’ll buy you a drink at the Holiday Inn bar.”

~

I
parked Liz in the bar and headed straight for Phillip Chaney’s room. He peaked out with the door latch in place and then opened the door to let me in.

“Phillip, I’ll keep this simple.
 
I left you with specific instructions and you didn’t follow them.
 
In fact, it seems you went out of your way to disobey those instructions in every way possible.
 
You can have a seat and tell me you’re reasoning, or I’ll see that the FBI or the sheriff provides you with overnight accommodations in a friendly jail - your choice.
 
I’ve got a date waiting downstairs – so don’t take long with your decision.”

He sat on the couch and began to talk.

Soon after arriving in Jackson, his brother called and said he was coming over.
 
He wasn’t sure how his brother had found him, but he wasn’t surprised.
 
This is where he normally stayed and a call to the hotel desk would have provided that information.

When his brother arrived, he shared with him the story about my involvement and how I would get the FBI involved and how he wasn’t to do anything without calling me.
 
He then claimed his brother, somehow, persuaded him that he shouldn’t listen to me – and that they together would deliver the money and rescue Charlotte.

 
“Phillip, this isn’t working so we are going to try this another way.
 
This bullshit story of yours has holes big enough to drive a train through.
 
This is the second time we’ve talked and both times I get the impression that you really don’t understand the gravity of this whole situation.
 
So, I’m going to ask questions and the first wrong answer I get, I leave. Understood?”

“Okay, Carson.
 
Ask your questions.”

“Tell me about your mysterious brother – and you can start with his name.”

“His name is Denny Smith – we call him ‘Dude’.
 
He is actually my half-bother and is several years older.
 
Dad was married early in life and that marriage produced Dude. They divorced a couple of years before he met my mother and then she died a few years later – in an automobile accident.
 
Dad has been trying to support him, but it hasn’t been easy.
 
Dude is pretty heavy into the drug scene and dad refuses to contribute to his bad habits.
 
Dude lives in Olive Branch, Mississippi – a house that dad had bought for him and his mother shortly after the divorce. We have remained in communication, but not terribly close – our circle of friends are quite different – as you might imagine.”

“No, I don’t imagine.
 
The more I talk with you the more I realize that I really don’t know who you are.
 
Where is your brother now?”
 
I needed this guy to open up – he wasn’t.

“I don’t know.
 
He left after we flew back from Halls.”

“Is he named in your fathers estate?
 
I mean, does he get anything when your father dies?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think so.
 
You can ask father.”

“I will.
 
Now, do you know how he knew Charlotte was missing – or about your being here with instructions to deliver money?”

“No, but I don’t think he did know.
 
I mean, I think I told him.
 
I don’t think he knew anything before he got here.”

I was not convinced. “So how did he know you were here?” I asked.

“I assume he guessed, I always stay here when I am in Jackson.”

 
“Okay, Phillip – I’ll leave now.
 
If you talk with Denny‘ Dude’ Smith, you tell him I want to visit with him.
 
You’re in the hands of the FBI now and my advice is to do exactly what they tell you – or they will put you in jail.
 
Frankly, your stories are full of half-truth and bullshit.
 
And if you do that with them, the consequence won’t be pretty – trust me.”

I left – just as pissed as when I arrived.
 
Some ‘no-good’ brother shows up and changes well put together plans – why and for what reasons?
 
I needed to think on this new wrinkle – it might be nothing, or it might be everything.

~

W
hen I got back down to the bar, Liz had just started her fourth glass of wine.
 
It was showing.

I took a seat at a stool next to her. “Hey good looking – you got any plans for this evening?”

“Yes, and you are not part of them.
 
Thank you very much,” her words were running together.

“But you saved my life tonight and I thought we were going to celebrate?”

“I am celebrating – but you’re not here.
 
You’re up in a hotel room, celebrating with somebody else.
 
Are they pretty?”
 
She was smashed!

“Yes, they were pretty – pretty revolting – but that is a story for another day.
 
You want to go get something to eat?”

“I want eggs – scrambled.
 
You got any eggs?”

“No, but I have chickens.
 
They lay eggs.
 
Is that good enough?”

“Where are the chickens?
 
They here?”
 
She was looking around the bar - this was getting funny.

“No, they are in Humboldt.
 
You want to go celebrate?”

“Celebrate what – the chickens laying eggs?”

“Yes, but we need to go now.”

“Okay – but no funny stuff.
 
I’ve got a real tough boyfriend.
 
He eats eggs too.”

 
We went to celebrate.

Tragedy

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
L
iz headed back to Memphis early, so she dropped me off at Chiefs in time to join the breakfast crowd.

I got a curious look from Nickie, took a seat at the counter and ordered Ronnie’s breakfast special – pancakes and sausage.

It was time for a call to Monica so, while waiting for breakfast, I used the outside payphone to make that call.

I gave her a brief overview, as I knew it, and strongly suggested she make herself invisible for the next several days. The best choice would be to leave town – take a short vacation and leave no contact information.
 
Things were going to get loud and the media would be seeking any opportunity for an interview – we didn’t want any interviews.
 
She agreed and said she would visit her daughter in New Orleans for a few days – perhaps longer.
 
I asked her to call me with a phone number when she got settled – she agreed and I went back to my breakfast.

“How was the movie?” Nickie asked.

“It was great – an adventure story with a lot of action but nobody died.
 
My kind of movie.”

“Carson, you are so full of shit.
 
We all know that every emergency and police vehicle in Humboldt were called to Bailey Park last night to save your ass.
 
And, since you are sitting here having pancakes and sausage, I see that they must have been successful."

“Are you disappointed?”
 
I was teasing her.

“Of course not.
 
Normally the most excitement we get around here are loose cows running down Hwy 45.
 
But when you are in town, we get to really see our tax dollars at work.
 
With all he police activity last night, Ronnie thought the Russians had invaded.
 
I didn’t tell him different, and it was this morning before he finally learned the truth.”

“Why did you spoil the fun?”

“Because he had all his guns loaded and out on the counter – I figured he would shoot the first strange looking customer who walked in the door!”

“Nickie, you are precious.
 
Did I have any calls last night?”

“Just one, but it was late.
 
Marcie called and left a phone number – she said it was for a Forrest Chaney.
 
He had called yesterday and asked you to return his call.
 
It is a Memphis number, let me get it for you.”

She brought me the number along with my pancakes and sausage.
 
I debated about calling Forrest Chaney this morning – I decided to put it off until things shook themselves out a little more.
 
I was only going to get one good chance and I wanted to have more facts before talking to him.

I was having my second cup of coffee when Leroy’s cruiser pulled into the parking lot.
 
He opened the door, saw me and motioned me to join him.
 

“What’s up?” I asked as I took the passenger seat in his Gibson County Sheriff’s cruiser.

“Several things – all bad.
 
Some fishermen found a body floating in Humboldt Lake.
 
It has been there a few days and no identification – but it appears to be a young female.
 
You and I are headed there now.”

“Oh my!” My thoughts were the worst.

“There’s more. Travis is locked in my jail and singing loudly to the FBI.
 
There’s pressure on us to pick up Mickey for questioning.
 
That’s not going to set well, so you need to be aware.
 
His guys will probably come after you.”

“Okay, I’m now aware.
 
We can discuss that later.
 
Do you think this might be Charlotte Luckey floating in the lake?” I didn’t want to ask that.

“Carson, this is getting complicated.
 
I sure hope it isn’t.”

“So do I – so do I,” I repeated.

W
e headed to Humboldt Lake at a quick rate – lights, siren and observing no speed limit.
 
As we rushed by the bait shop of Lee and Barbara Stevens – he reminded me that this was the ex-wife of the football coach Charlotte had been involved with in Trenton.

“Really? I asked. “Where is the coach now?”

“He owns and runs a beer joint at the Gibson/Madison County Line on Hwy 45 – called ‘My Place’. We’ve had a few calls, but nothing serious – underage drinking, fights – the usual stuff.”

There were two police cars and an ambulance in the parking area when we arrived.
 
Jeff Cole and Scotty Perry were interviewing the two fishermen and I stood aside to watch the activities.
 
The body was moved from a boat to a stretcher and then placed into the waiting ambulance – it quickly left.
 
Jeff walked over to update Leroy and Scotty walked over to me.

“What do you know?” I asked.

 
“Not much.
 
Two guys were fishing and found this floating and very bloated body.
 
They called the office and here we are.
 
It’s a female, young and naked.
 
Other than that, we couldn’t tell much about the crime – assuming there was a crime.”

“Drowned swimming?” I should not have said that.

“Look Carson.
 
That was not a pretty sight.
 
Dead woman, floating in the water for several days, with fish and other critters having their bites – just don’t push the issue. OK?”

“I’m sorry Scotty.
 
 
Anybody see anything?”

“Not that we know of.
 
No attendant and there’s nobody ever out here unless they are fishing.
 
We’ll check, of course, but nothing now.”