Fancy Gap (20 page)
“Well, I daresay you were right. Susan asked me if we could help the sheriff and state police with the investigation. She caught me at a bad time. Father Tony delivered a touching prayer service. The place was packed. I tried my best to be gentle as I explained that we’re now retired and have no business sticking our noses into local police business, no matter how terrible the mess has become. They both didn’t seem to be listening as they suggested that our presence was some act of God.
They were intent with their hope that you and I will save the day. I did my best to suggest that the sheriff and his investigators, as well as the state police, are fully capable of handling all facets of this incident. I wish I could tell you that I convinced them that we must stay on the sidelines and let the locals handle the matter.
Plus, I was almost busted when I left the church. Who do I see in the parking lot but none other than Sid Roland from the
Washington Post
. I couldn’t believe my eyes. He was there to interview Susan and Tim. Luckily, I was able to duck out into the parking lot and leave before he saw me.”
“Wow, that was a close call,” said Quinn. “How well do you know Sid? Isn’t he syndicated in a bunch of newspapers across the country?”
“Oh, yes, that’s our boy, Sid. The man has a very high opinion of himself. He interviewed me on several high-profile cases some years ago. Then he had the audacity to call and ask me out. I wasn’t quite sure how to handle that, but I finally acquiesced to his request.
Well, Quinn, the man was one of the most cocksure men I had ever gone out with. He had an ego as big as the District. After a dinner I couldn’t wait to end, he suggested we go back to his place for a nightcap. I agreed because I knew what course of action that was needed to deal with his pompous ass.
I sat on his couch, and he brought me a glass of wine. He then excused himself and went to the bathroom. When he came back, he was wearing this Hugh Hefner—type robe and a red bikini bottom. Once I noticed the tiny, almost-indefinable bulge in his bikini briefs, I started to laugh.
Needless to say, that caused somewhat of an adverse reaction on his part. I knew it was time to leave. I set my wine down as I thanked him for dinner and said goodnight. I laughed all the way back to Arlington. So, Quinn, do you understand why I really didn’t want him to see me in that church tonight?”
“Makes sense to me. Sounds like Sid should have known better. A little investigative research on his part might have better prepared him for his moment with the ice princess,” Quinn said.
Louisa curled her left eyebrow. “Oh, I almost forgot, you did spend some time with Bailey Sykes this evening. I can only imagine what his reaction was when you told him I’m here with you.”
“Oh, and what would make you think I even told him you’re hanging around the Chateau? After all, he’s a close friend, and he does understand that I have my standards.”
“As I have mine, big fella, and I do believe it’s time to go down to the hot tub and see if you measure up to mine.”
A trail of discarded underwear led to the hot tub.
All the police agencies involved in the investigation agreed to meet on Tuesday morning at the Carroll County Sheriff ’s Department to review the progress—or lack thereof—in the investigation. The sheriff had Levi and Leroy in attendance. The state police were represented by Jim Craig and his boss, Johnny Berry. Rachael Ayres, the state police CSI supervisor out of Wytheville, was in the room, as was Detective Freddy Jones from the Surry County Sheriff ’s Department in North Carolina.
The sheriff reviewed each step taken by each agency since the abduction and Pete’s murder. The examination of the crime scene at Devil’s Den created more questions than answers. Nothing in the parking lot or on the trail indicated that Pete Preston’s body was taken to the cave from the top of the mountain. The general consensus was that the killer parked somewhere below the cave and walked through the woods with the body to get to the cave. Thus the assumption was made that the killer knew the area very well.
Rachael Ayres then stunned the group when she stated, “Our technicians have spent hours examining the picture that was taken of Pete Preston’s body on the iron grate. They determined that the picture didn’t come from the hikers’ phone or any of the officers and technicians who were at the scene. After a comprehensive examination of the picture, we believe it was actually taken by the killer. The level of light and shadows present at the time the picture was taken would have been there before the hikers found the body. We think the killer took the picture before he left the scene.
We also believe the killer used an iPhone to take the picture. He’s proficient at using the internet without leaving any traces. We went to some of the best web forensic experts to see if they could trace the picture to any particular source. They haven’t as yet been able to. They’re still working on it.
Nothing was found on Pete’s body that would lead us to another location where he was probably killed. Fingernails and toenails were trimmed and scrubbed. The killer was very meticulous in cleaning the body.”
Sheriff Pierce spoke up. “So the killer spends who knows how much time cleaning the body to make sure that we don’t find a thing. Yet the idiot then takes a picture to show the world the evil he was responsible for. So in a nutshell, we’re up against a psycho who is good and meticulous at what he does and likes to show off. So how do we figure out what he’s going to do next?”
There was a long silence in the room before Johnny Berry said to the sheriff, “Frank, I think we need to get someone from the FBI’s profiler’s office involved right away. It appears to me we have our hands full with a determined killer who wants the world to know he has the power to kill and kill at will.
I’ve already received a not-so-subtle suggestion from my boss in Richmond that we get the FBI profiler folks involved right away. My gut reaction is that some of our powerful regional politicians have already begun turning the screws on our state police leaders in Richmond to get the little girl found alive.”
“Johnny, you’re right on the money about the political pressure. Trust me; the fifty-thousand-dollar reward didn’t just drop out of the sky. The political and business powers in the county and beyond want this public relations nightmare to go away—and soon,” the sheriff replied. “Johnny, are you aware of just who is laying her head on a pillow not six miles from here?”
“Frank, Jim Craig took the liberty to inform me that none other than Louisa Hawke is in the neighborhood. What’s the story behind her appearance in Fancy Gap of all places?”
Many in the room looked at each other quizzically when Louisa’s name was mentioned. Johnny Berry saw the reaction.
“Folks, let me tell you exactly who is in our midst. Louisa Hawke was— and, I might add, still is—a female legend in federal law enforcement. I was involved in several major cases in northern Virginia where we needed to involve the FBI. While doing so, I met and worked with a great variety of Bureau folks who were like all of us: some great, some good, and some just awful. Yet each one of them, to a man or woman, feared the woman who had ended many a career in the FBI. Louisa Hawke was the head of the criminal division and took no prisoners. They complained that the woman worked twelve-hour days seven days a week. She also had a reputation for chopping off the heads of agents who didn’t measure up. I believe she’s a lawyer.”
Levi asked, “So let me ask the obvious question what in the hell is this Louisa doing in Fancy Gap? Man, did she take a wrong turn or something?”
The sheriff chuckled under his breath as he looked at Levi. “Well, as strange as this may seem, she’s visiting Quinn McSpain, who lives off the Parkway. I just met him, and he’s a pretty impressive man. As best as I can determine, he had a very illustrious career as a senior international, corporate security director who protected some of the biggest corporations in the world. He retired a couple of years ago when he lost his wife in a car accident in Winston-Salem. He splits his time between a townhouse there and his place up here.
My sources tell me that Louisa Hawke retired this year and somehow hooked up with McSpain, and I guess they’re now an item. I believe they’ve convinced themselves they plan to stay retired and stay as far as they can from any police or investigative challenges. They’re more interested in kayaking down the New River, climbing up Buffalo Mountain, or biking together from here to kingdom come than doing what they did best in the past.”
Johnny Berry looked around the room. “So now that we have Superman and Wonder Woman in our neck of the woods, what happens when the national and regional media find out they’re here? Do we embrace them as our saviors, since the press will certainly portray us as backwoods, redneck Sheriff Andy Taylor and Barney Fife types?”
The sheriff knew they were between the proverbial rock and a hard place. They would be dammed if they did and dammed if they didn’t reach out to Hawke and McSpain. He also figured the Prestons would make a run at them both to help. They would see the pair as saviors.
“All right, that settles it. I’ll call McSpain this afternoon and run over to his place and talk to them both. But, frankly, I’d be very surprised if they want in on any of this. After all, why would they want to complicate their lives right now? The only fly in the ointment is the Catholic priest. He’s very close to the Prestons and I think Louisa Hawke. The priest could be a factor in their decision. What other information do we have from anyone we haven’t heard from?”
He looked around the room and spotted Freddy Jones. “Freddy, please tell us you know anything at all about the whereabouts of Wilton Tubbs.”
“Sherriff, I do wish I had something to add. That not-so-good ole boy has dropped off the face of the earth. He isn’t driving or using any of his credit cards. No phone calls to his momma either. Now she does tell me that she’s pretty sure he’s holed up somewhere in West Virginia. She had heard him talk of a fella and a gal up there he likes to have sex with. She just knows it’s somewhere in West Virginia. She also thinks his friends manufacture meth. We got his picture out to all the police agencies in West Virginia and surrounding states, but so far not one solitary hit.”
The sheriff looked around when Jones had finished. “OK, if no one has anything more to add, let’s get back to work and hope we get lucky real soon. Let’s plan to have another meeting next Monday. Leroy, please stay here for a minute.”
As soon as the room emptied, the sheriff picked up his cell phone and dialed Quinn’s number.
“Good morning, sheriff. To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from you on this fine morning?”
“Quinn, it would be a great morning if that poor little girl was found and we had a killer in our custody. But, unfortunately, that hasn’t happened yet, but we’re working harder than ever.”
“I have no doubt about that at all. So what’s up?”
“Well, Quinn, I would like to come out and talk to you and Louisa after lunch today. I know its short notice, but it’s important that I run a few things by you both soon.”
“How does two this afternoon work for you, sheriff?”
“Perfect, Quinn. See you then.”
He hung up and looked at Leroy. “Be back here after lunch. You and I are going to see Wonder Woman and Superman.” Leroy smiled as the sheriff headed to his office.
The sheriff and Leroy left the department promptly at one-thirty. Leroy looked at the sheriff as he drove and wondered exactly what he planned to ask Quinn once they got there. He also wondered why the sheriff wanted him along. Yet he knew better than to ask. Besides, he would find out in a matter of minutes.
The sheriff turned off of Highway 52 and headed north on the Parkway. Leroy figured they would go down one of the Gap roads to get to the house. As the sheriff turned, Leroy immediately recognized where they were. They then turned on to a private road that looked like it headed into the woods. They reached the end of the road in less than a quarter of a mile. Leroy had never been back in this area. Off to the left, Leroy saw what was surely Quinn’s house. The place had a magnificent view of the North Carolina Piedmont below. It was easy to see Hanging Rock and Pilot Mountain in the distance.
The sheriff stopped his car at the top of the cliff and said, “Not a bad place to lay your head on a pillow.”
Leroy took it all in and simply said, “Wow!”
The sheriff pulled in to the driveway and set the emergency brake as he cut off the engine. He and Leroy stood beside the car and took in more of the view. Quinn came out onto the porch and smiled.
“Same effect on most folks, sheriff. That view takes your breath away,” Quinn offered.
“Quinn, this is as pretty as it gets. I can see why you hate to leave this place. Quinn, I’d like to introduce Sergeant Leroy Jefferson to you. He’s one of my best deputies.”
“Good to meet you, Leroy, and welcome to the Chateau. If you turn around, you’ll get to meet Louisa Hawke, who’s just coming down from the garden with the vegetables we’ll have with dinner tonight.”
They all turned to see Louisa coming down the slope from the garden area. She was carrying a large wicker basket that was overflowing with tomatoes, beans, and carrots.
“Well, hello, sheriff, great timing on your part. We have so much bounty from the garden to share.”
The sheriff introduced Leroy to Louisa as they went up to the back deck to sit outside.
“I’ve got cold sweet tea in the fridge or soft drinks if you prefer,” offered Louisa. They all opted for the sweet tea. A gentle, westerly breeze floated across the deck as they took their first sips of tea.
“Quinn, thanks for having us,” said the sheriff. “I know you both are busy enjoying retirement, but I wanted to fill you in on the meeting we had this morning with all the folks working on the case. In a nutshell, we don’t have a hell of lot more than we had a couple of days ago. The lab folks tell us that Pete Preston was strangled with a smooth, cotton sash type of cord. They’re also fairly certain that the killer took the picture that went viral on the Internet. The one pervert from North Carolina who was allegedly here on the night of the abduction is nowhere to be found. He might be in West Virginia, but he hasn’t been seen or heard from at all. There have already been calls about the reward, but nothing has come from them.
