Author: Charles Wells
Category: Nonfiction
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/charles-wells/page,10,11504-the-beginning-(whispering-pines-book-1).html
Chapter 4
Matt Veal's house was large with two huge chimneys rising from either side of the structure. A porch ran the distance of the front with the left side screened. From inside the screened area a yellow light illuminated a wood swing and two chairs.
The halo of another outside light glowed from the back. Chuck said, “He’s not home. Look at the grass in the yard. It’s over ankle deep. Matt normally keeps the place neat as a pin. He’s not here and he hasn’t been here for a while, maybe a week I’d say.”
Gail said nothing as she looked around. The car veered around a tree base and moved toward the rear of the house. A small barn sat near the back of the property with an open shelter attached to the side. Beneath the shelter stood a boat on a trailer and a scattering of miscellaneous items too dark to see clearly.
Chuck stopped the car and said, “His Trans Am isn’t here and there are no lights on inside. He’s not home.”
He cut the engine and the headlights. Silence engulfed them but not darkness. The yard light, attached near the top of a power line pole, shone brightly about and wires from the pole drifted lazily toward the house. Pine needles covered most of the rear yards with a good spattering of long, dark pinecones dotting the back porch steps and walkway.
Opening the car door, Chuck turned to Gail and said, “Let me go inside first and look. Would you wait here please?”
Gail shook her head. “I’m here to help, Chuck. I’d rather go with you.”
He hesitated and then nodded. She was right. This was no time to play the chivalrous hero. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s go check it out but I can tell you right now there’s no one here. Where that blue Trans Am goes, Matt goes. He loves that car.”
He got out and stood, looked around a moment then walked around the front of the car and circled back to Gail’s door. The chivalry was a habit his mother taught him and judging from how Gail had waited and not opened her own door, she was not ill trained in southern chivalry either.
Opening the door and holding it back for Gail, he glanced out toward the barns and saw nothing but shadows with total darkness beyond. Everything looked normal except the lack of care with the grass and flowerbeds.
Matt, a stickler for keeping things neat outside and inside, was a devoted neatnik. But Chuck needed a bulldozer for his twice annual clean the apartment duties. (If it doesn’t move, crawls, or wiggle, then store it in a cabinet somewhere.)
Helping Gail out of the car, he said, “Let’s go to the front. There’s a key stashed under a brick that opens the door.”
Gail nodded and walked hand in hand with him around the corner of the large house. “I hope there aren’t any snakes out here,” she cried.
“There’s only one that I know about and it’s only a king snake. Matt lets him stick around to chase off the dangerous critters that might roam onto the property.”
“God, I hate snakes. Any kind of snake is a snake to me. Why does he let one stay near the house?”
“A king snake won’t hurt you. They also eat the dangerous snakes, like rattlers and moccasins. Matt and I used to keep some for pets when we were growing up. The tame snakes, like the hog nose, spreading adders, coach whips, none of those are poisonous."
"I’ve never seen a pet snake fetch someone’s slippers or the newspaper. Besides, like I said, motor oil is motor oil and a snake is a snake.”
“Yes, king snakes are snakes but even rattlesnakes, which can be deadly, we didn’t always kill either. We would catch them and our science teacher at school would ship them off to a company down in Florida who paid us a dollar a foot. Matt and I could earn ten or fifteen dollars each, in one afternoon. Around here that was good money for doing something so easy.”
“Easy, you call catching a rattlesnake easy? For that matter I bet your mom wasn’t happy about it at all.”
“Oh mom didn’t mind so long as we let her borrow one from time to time to keep Dad off balance.”
The front walkway to the porch inclined, gently sloping upward and ended at the base of four easy steps. Chuck leaned over at the base of the steps, grabbed a loose block, and shook it out of the slot. He reached into the hole and removed a silver key. Holding it up he said, “We always keep this just in case of emergencies.”
Replacing the block, he guided Gail up the steps and onto the porch. The front door looked solid and secure. On either side were narrow, decorative windows that extended from floor to ceiling. It was a typical country layout and, Gail admitted, beautiful even though tame by modern city and architectural standards.
He nudged the key into the dead-bolt slot, wiggled it several times, and then gave it a twist. The lock clicked and the door cracked open.
Cool, air-conditioned air poured out and struck them in the face. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve only got about thirty seconds to punch in the alarm code before the system calls the cops.”
Gail, following him through the doorway, said, “I hope you know the code. I’d hate to spend my first night in jail.”
“No problem, “Chuck said. “ An old school friend of Matt’s is the chief deputy around here. He wouldn’t keep you at the jail over night. He’d try to take you home with him instead.”
“Well I surely hope you forgot the code then.”
Chuck didn’t laugh. Why am I angry? He stepped to the alarm control box behind the door and punched in several numbers quickly. An angry red light on the face of the unit switched off, replaced by two soft, green indicators.
“Like I told you, nothing has changed around here in a hundred years. I guess that includes the cut off codes for the house. Matt is resistant to change. Now, let’s get some lights on.”
He stepped away into the semi-blackness leaving her standing in the dark. A second later, he flipped a wall switch and the room brightened around them.
The TV set, bookcase, sofa and chairs suggested to Gail that it was the living room. The next thing she noticed was how everything appeared neat as a pin. There were no books askew, no empty glasses or cups on the coffee table, and not one stain on the deep colored wood floors. Across the room, a doorway opened into the hall corridor. It was there Chuck guided them next. He flipped another switch on the wall and the hallway lit up.
Gail could see three closed doors along the way with a final door open at the end. She followed him down the hall. The highly polished hardwood floor clicked beneath her shoe heels loudly. Chuck, wearing soft-soled shoes, created little sound. She’d never noticed that about him before.
Once inside the door of the last room at the end of the hall, he flipped another switch and the room grew bright. It was the kitchen and dining area. Long rows of yellow counter tops and cabinets covered one side of the room and a dining table stood on the other. The bright yellow and red colors and silvery appliances were beautiful. Much like the living room, the kitchen was spotless and clean.
The dining room table was backlit by the outside light that filtered and flowed through a large pair of bay windows. She was impressed. The house was beautiful and nothing like she had expected to find on a Georgia farm.
Chuck pointed toward the table and said, “You can go sit there if you like. I’ll be right back. Let me check the bedrooms and stuff.”
This time, she didn’t argue but neither did she head to the table. Instead, she stood in the hall doorway and watched him backtrack down the hall. He stopped at each door, opened it, and flipped on a light and looked around inside. Next, he flipped the light back off, closed the door with a soft slam, and moved on to the next room.
Each time he opened a door, she held her breath. Was Matt here and hurt or dead? At the last doorway, he hesitated. His hand reached out slowly for the handle and twisted it. The door swung open slowly with a soft creak. For another long moment, his hand lingered inside over the light switch.
To Gail, he appeared frozen in place and then she realized, “That’s Matt’s bedroom and he’s thinking about the old man in the tenant house.”
The l
ight came on. Gail waited, breathless, and watched Chuck’s face and expressions. There was none. He simply stood, glaring into the room. Then, he glanced back at Gail with features totally void of any meaning.
Gail raised her eyebrows in question and waited. Chuck seemed to slip back to the present, looked around inside the room again, and said, “He’s not here.” With a tinge of anger, he flipped off the light but left the door open.
Gail had no idea why and didn’t ask. Instead, she cleared her throat softly and said, “Okay. Maybe he went out of town and was in a wreck or accident and he’s hurt.”
Chuck walked back to the kitchen, his sharp, brown eyes searching aimlessly for anything out of place. Gail could see the sinking emotions growing with every sweep and said softly, “We’ll figure it out soon enough.
“I sure hope so. His car isn’t here so I can’t imagine where he could be and look at the answering machine over there on the wall.”
She followed his pointing finger and saw the machine’s call light blinking rapidly. “The memory is full I bet.”
Trying to brighten an already dark mood in the room, she added, “Why don’t I go out to the car and get the food? You finish checking around and I’ll fix us something to eat.”
Chuck nodded and pointed to the rear door. “You can go out that way. I set the alarm system for occupancy so it will let you in and out without going off.”
After she had stepped out and closed the back door, he pushed the answering machine playback button and waited. Several messages were from him, calling from North Carolina. His voice sounded odd and unnatural. Is this how I sound to everyone? The other messages were from Blake, a business associate Chuck had heard Matt mention several times over the years. The last message was a female voice and sounded up tight. “Matt? I need to see you. Call me, please.”
“Well,” Chuck said aloud. “At least somebody else knows he’s not home.”
Outside, Gail walked to the car and opened the back door. She retrieved the bag of groceries from the rear seat, turned and closed the door. She saw something move near the barn. Was it an animal like a deer, cat or dog?
She stared straight at the spot for a moment but saw nothing else. Then she tried looking off to the side because in the darkness, one’s peripheral vision often worked better but still nothing. With an uncomfortable shrug, she turned and started back to the house but froze in her tracks when she heard the distinct and not too distant rustle of something moving in dry pine straw. So there was something out there and now, as she stood waiting, listening, sensing, she knew it without a doubt. They were human eyes and they were watching her but her inner senses felt no danger, no hostility, just curiosity coming from the eyes on her.
She started walking again, reached the top of the steps and opened the back door. As she closed it, she glanced back into the yard but it was gone.
When Gail first opened the door and stepped through, Chuck could tell by her expression she seemed wary or frightened. “What’s wrong?” He asked.
Gail hesitated, took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There was someone outside messing around the barn. I heard a noise and thought I saw something moving around.”
Chuck stepped to one of the bay windows and peered out. “There are a couple of old tom cats that hang around the barn. They help keep the rats and stuff under control. You might have seen one of them.”
“No, it was someone, not something.”
Chuck opened the door and looked out. All seemed quiet. There was a slight breeze ruffling the treetops so maybe she had seen shadows causing illusions of movement. He waited for a moment then closed the door.
“It was probably just an old cat or maybe even a deer. As you well know, we do have many of those around. I have seen a ten-point buck come trotting right up to the trash barrel out there by the fence. They get brave at dry times of the year like this.”
Gail nodded but deep inside she knew someone was out there. Should she tell Chuck all there was to tell about her sixth sense?
“Chuck? I know this is going to sound crazy, but, since I was a little girl I could sort of, uh, sense things that were going on around me.”
Chuck, taking the bag of groceries she still held, looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean sense? Do you mean, like, sense, kind of sense? Like with your eyes and ears?”
Gail bit her lower lip. “Uh, no, I mean, like, sixth sense. ESP type stuff but not the eerie kind, you know. I can just tell when somebody is watching me and, well, somebody watching me out back just now. Trust me, I know.”
He set the bag down on the counter and paused, looking directly at her. Her expression was serious and something in the way her confidence rose to the surface about it was startling. There was no doubt in her mind at all.
“You know, Gail? My mom had an identical twin sister and they could pass mental messages back and forth without saying a word. Is that the kind of thing you’re talking about?”
Gail nodded. “Somewhat like that. When we were growing up, I use to drive my brother’s crazy playing hide and seek. They could never hide from me. I would just follow my nose and it would take me to them. After a few years, they quit letting me play. I know this sounds stupid but it’s true. Outside a moment ago, somebody was watching me.”
He believed her, or at least, he believed that she believed. For that matter, his mother and Aunt weren’t unique with their ESP. His Mom didn’t need to stand at the back door of the house, screaming that supper was ready. He and Matt just knew, for some odd reason, that supper was ready and it was time to go home. It never failed.
“Okay,” Chuck said nodding. “I think I’d better go check around the barn. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”
“I’ll be fine but maybe you’d better call the sheriff? Somebody could be trying to rob the house or barn.”
“No, I’ll just go look first but if I yell, you call 911 and tell them you’re at the Veal’ place north of town. They’ll know how to find it.”
“Is there a gun in the house?”
Chuck pointed down the hall. “First room on the left there’s a gun case with a rifle and two shotguns. Shells are in the lower, right-hand drawer. Do you know how to use one?”
“Me?” Gail asked surprised. “Aren’t you going to take a gun out there with you? “
“No, if there’s somebody out there, I don’t want to shoot them. I want to find out what they’re doing and why. I’m looking for Matt, remember?”
Gail sat down on a bar stool and nodded. “Okay. You go and I’ll wait here but I know there was someone out there.”
Suddenly, an automobile turned into the front drive and its headlights lit up the area from around the edges of the house. They created a show of eerie dancing shadows in the backyard area and trees. The low grumble of a vehicle engine reached them. Chuck glanced at Gail then back at the moving shadows outside.
The sound of metal clattering and suspension coils squeaking suggested the approaching vehicle was most likely a pickup truck. The rutted and bumpy dirt roads around the county were harsh on any kind of machine operating over them. It wouldn’t take long before a new car or truck developed pings, squeaks, and shivers one could hear for half a mile.
“Well? Whoever it might be isn’t trying to sneak up on us. You could hear that racket for miles.”
Gail nodded and followed him down the hall to the front of the house. At the door, he pulled back a window curtain and peered out. A dark colored pickup was just easing to a stop at the edge of the front walk. The engine’s deep, gruff rumbling stopped and the headlights flickered out. The parking lights remained on, leaving a reddish glow on the ground at the back of the truck.
Chuck released the curtain and said, “They left their parking lights on so I guess they’re friend and not foe.”
Gail whispered, “That could depend on how drunk they are or high on drugs.”
Door hinges squeaked and then a large, dark, figure of a man exited the cab. He stood
motionless for a moment then called, “Hello the house. Mr. Veal?”
Chuck looked at Gail, who simply raised an eyebrow in response. He opened the front door and the man called again, “I know it’s late but I’m looking for Matt. Is he home?”
Chuck stepped out into the porch light and replied, “No. He’s not here. I’m Matt’s brother, Chuck. Something I can do for you?”
The figure moved closer into the illumination and said, “Chuck? I thought that might be you. I’m Blake Squires. I’m Matt’s friend.”
Gail walked out and stood next to Chuck and he whispered to her, “It’s a business associate. He and Matt are working timber leases together.”
Chuck called back, “Yea, Blake. Matt talks about you a lot. Come on up. If you’ve got a minute I’d like to ask a few questions.”
The tall, shadow slowly transformed into a dark, black man. He wore a plaid shirt, jeans and heavy lumberjack boots. His chest was wide with rippling muscles running up and down his massive arms and neck. His brown eyes were clear and intelligent, tinted with curiosity and concern.
He stomped his boots heavily on the concrete of the walkway and scrubbed them hard to clear dirt, mud, and clay from the bottoms. Then he took the steps up to the porch level and stood looking at Chuck. The two men were face to face, sizing each other up although Blake was a good foot taller.
Blake offered a huge, dark hand first. Chuck shook it firmly and said, “We just got here a few minutes ago from North Carolina. This is my co-worker, Gail Synerson.”
Blake tipped the brim of the cap at Gail and then looked back at Chuck. “I didn’t mean to bother either of you but I saw you driving in earlier and was hoping you had heard from Matt.”
“No, that’s why we drove down today. I haven’t heard from him in over a week, any idea where he might have wandered off to?”
Blake shook his head and they stood staring at one another until Chuck turned to Gail and asked, “You suppose we could toss another egg in the pan to feed this guy? I’ve heard Matt talk about him so much over the years but I’ve never met him.”
Gail smiled, “I’m sure we have plenty. Why don’t you come on inside, Mr. Squires?”
As the two men stepped back to let Gail through the door first, Chuck looked at Blake and said, “When was the last time you heard from him?”
Blake scratched his forehead. “It’s been almost two weeks since I talked with him last. I don’t mind telling you, we have some pressing business we need to discuss. If he’s not with you then I don’t know where he could be.”
Chuck sighed. “I honestly don’t know, Blake. His car isn’t here and the house doesn’t look like he’s been around recently. I’m worried. I almost wish he were out chasing squirrels up a tree or something. That would be a lot easier to believe than what’s happening right now.”
“We can rule out the juke joints, jails, and hospitals because I’ve already checked. He isn’t in any of them. I also can’t find his blue car anywhere around town either.”
“If you know the car is blue then I guess you do know something about Matt.”
Gail said, "Why don’t you two come on inside because we're letting mosquitoes in the house.”
Blake’s huge hand reached up to the cap on his head and removed it. He put it behind him and stuck it brim down into the belt of his pants. Chuck stepped back in the door to let him pass and raised an eyebrow at the hat trick. He asked, “Were you Army or Marines?”
“Huh? What? What do you mean?”
Chuck pointed at the hat. “That’s an old military habit. What branch were you?”
Blake smiled then looked sheepish. “Oh that? Yea, it’s an old habit. I was Air Force. Eight years and I’ve been out five.”
Closing the door behind them, Chuck said, “I think I already told you, this is Gail, a good friend of mine. (Should I have said girlfriend?)”
Gail shook the huge hand he immediately offered and said, “Just call me Blake.”
“I’m Gail.”
His clothes smelled pleasantly of pinesap, timber chips, and sawdust, which was nothing Matt’s house, wasn’t used to.
Chuck said, “Let’s go to the kitchen table. We can sit there and talk.”
Blake nodded and motioned toward the hallway door for Gail to lead the way and looking at Chuck he added, “Don’t forget to reset the alarm code.”
Chuck raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you know what the numbers are?”
Blake rose to his full six foot five and said, “Yep, its 74-15-01m, Matt’s birthday backwards.”
Chuck’s mouth fell open and he nodded at Gail. “This guy knows Matt pretty well if Matt gave him that code.”
Blake smiled. “The last two or three times you came down to visit I was either out of town or too busy to get over and meet you. I’m glad we finally got together, but I sure wish there was a better reason for it.”
As the three entered the kitchen area, Gail pointed to the stove, “I’ll get something started over here. You two sit and talk”
“Thanks Gail. If you can’t find something just yell.”
Once seated, Chuck asked, “Blake? Matt didn’t say anything to you before he left?”
Blake shook his head. “Not a thing. The last time we talked, he was at my timber office and was supposed to stop by again the next day to finish some paperwork. Before he left, he didn’t mention anything about going out of town for a few days. I thought he might have taken off, up to the timber lease property and broken down or something.”
Chuck shook his head. “No, he always carries his cell phone with him.”
“Cell is no good down in that creek valley because it’s too far out from the towers and too low as well. I spent half a day up there checking around, even got Bud Barron to fly me over the place a few times to take a look from the air. Something is wrong, Chuck. Something is bad wrong but I just don’t know what.”
Gail asked from the kitchen area. “Why didn’t you call Chuck in North Carolina? Didn’t you have his number?”
“No,” Blake said. “I had the number on my computer at the office but lost it. Matt gave it to me in case something happened.”
“What do you mean in case something happened?”
“In our line of work you never know when some idiot with a chain saw is going to drop a tree on your head. Matt and I kept each other up to date on what to do in case something bad did happen.”
Chuck held out his hands as though pleading. “How did your computer lose my number? Hard drive crash or something?”
Blake looked downcast for a moment and then said, “No, somebody broke into my office three weeks ago. They roughed up my paper files and formatted the drive on my computer, wiped it clean. I lost everything I didn’t have on back up and I didn’t have your number anywhere else but the computer at that time. I tried the operator in two or three cities in North Carolina but we couldn’t find you in the books. You live in Charlotte?”
“No, Gastonia. It’s about two hours further up the interstate. I’m sorry, Blake. You have to understand all these questions and why I’m not sounding trusting right now.”
“Yea, I know and I would be the same way. When I saw the Carolina tag on your car out back, I figured it had to be you right off the bat.”
Gail stopped moving and looked over at Chuck. It took him a moment to fill in the blanks about the Jeep parked in the rear yard. Turning back to Blake he said, “You just drove up out front so how did you see my car in the back yard?”
“Oh boy,” Blake said. “Me and my big mouth, uh, don’t get upset, Chuck. I was on my way home and saw you pulling into the dirt road at the highway. I knew it wasn’t Matt’s car. That red Jeep of yours is easy enough to tell them apart. I parked down the road, up yonder by the fence, and kind of walked around by the pond and came in from the back way. I saw Gail getting the bag out of the car and that’s when I noticed the out of state tag. I figured it was probably you. Matt talks about you a lot.”
Chuc
k looked at Gail again who stood at the counter, smiling the world famous, “I told you so grin.”
“Yea, uh, Gail told me she heard somebody out there. I was just going to check when you drove up. How’d you get out and back around so fast?”
“I didn’t want to get shot by one of Matt’s bird guns in the spare bedroom yonder. Besides, Matt says I’m a sneaky old fox when I need to be.”
Turning to Gail, Blake added, “I’m sorry. I knew you had seen or heard me out there. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Still stirring the eggs in a bowl, Gail grinned and said, “Yea. That’s okay, Blake but how did you know that I was aware of you?”
Blake shrugged. “You looked straight at me one time and your eyes locked on me. I was back in the shadows of the barn but you saw me somehow. I just knew it.”
Gail smiled. “By the way, I’m fixing enough eggs and grits to feed an army. Can I fix you a plate too?”
Blake held up a huge hand, palm out toward Gail, and said, “No thank you. I need to head on to the house and grab some sleep. Chuck? Do you want some advice?”
“Sure could use some Blake. What do you think?”
“I hate to say this but Matt and I made a few enemies when we bought the timber rights on Beaver creek. You’ve heard about the dam they’re going to build to create some prime lake front property along the creek?”
Chuck nodded. “Yea, Matt told me a little about it. We’ve only talked once since then and he didn’t say any more on the subject. He did say that Max Pary was not a happy man about the leased property.”
“Yea, old Pary was pretty ticked off about the whole thing. Matt and I had to get a court order to hold up the Pary Company from closing the gates on the dam until we can cut the timber. Matt tried to get Judge Marcus here in town to put a hold on the project but we got nothing out of him, not even the time of day.”
“That figures. Max Pary has that Judge in his back pocket along with most other elected officials around here. If the Pary family doesn’t want something then it’s most likely not going to happen.”
Blake agreed. “I’ve been around for five years now. I’ve learned all about the Pary control over this place, some of it from firsthand experience. When my Daddy died, I got out of the Air Force because he’d left me about 600 acres of timber but no money. I went to the local bank and tried to borrow some operating capitol to start my own mill but the banker said no way. Then he offered to buy my property at five hundred an acre and he got mad when I busted out laughing in his face. Timber property around here sells for five thousand an acre or better.”
Chuck laughed. “God yea, I would buy 10,000 acres at 500 each. So they turned you down for a loan. What did you do?”
Blake smiled. “First I went job hunting and Matt hired me on the spot, said he knew my daddy and had bought some timber from him over the years. I worked for Matt for a year at the mill and we became good friends. Next thing I know he helped me set up financing for my own operation and a mill. I was going to be his competition but he didn’t care. He took me to a bank in Atlanta and introduced me. I walked out with a loan an hour later. A poor man like me, living in the middle of no place was handed the keys to a bank.”
“That sounds like something Matt would do. Did this have anything to do with why the Pary family turned on Matt so hard? All you were doing was buying some trees upstream from their project, right?”
“More than you realize, Chuck. Pary had his little dam ready to go and he wanted to close the gates before the concrete had dried. Matt and I had to get a Federal Judge in Macon to issue a stay on the project. We've got until late November to get the timber cut”
“Matt told me a little about some of that, Blake. My word, I didn’t know it was getting that touchy though. Anybody who rocks the Pary boat is just begging for trouble.”
“That was my thoughts when Matt first asked me to be his partner on this job. Now, Max Pary wants his lake property ready to start selling and that will not happen until the water starts filling that valley. He is tramping around, huffing and puffing at everybody. No matter, he can't close those gates until the first of December unless we dropped our timber rights on the land upstream.”
Gail said, “Chuck? If they were going to flood the land then why would anybody want to leave the timber? It would be wasted.”
“Yea, that’s an excellent question but you don’t know the Pary family like we do. They are self centered and think they are dictators over the County.”
“Yea,” Blake agreed. “They especially don’t like a local man like Matt throwing wrenches in their gears. Matt knew the legal crowd around town couldn’t match wits with a Federal Judge because their influence doesn’t reach that high up in politics outside the County.”
Chuck sighed and looked around the room slowly. “I don’t know where to go next. I guess I’ll head over to the mill yard in the morning and talk to this guy Thompson.”
Blake shook his head. “That isn’t going to do much good. Matt knew that I didn’t like Thompson from the start. I never could figure why he hired that guy, and, in the last two days, Thompson has fired three of Matt’s best workers.”
Chuck sat up straight. “What? Matt let somebody else do the hiring and firing? That doesn’t sound right at all. What in the world is going on?”
Blake shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know but I’ve got a fairly good idea that Thompson wouldn’t have fired them unless he knew Matt was out of the game somehow.”
“Right, Blake. He must have known that Matt wasn’t going to come back and fire him for it.”
“Something like that, oh, and there’s one other thing.”
Chuck sat back down in the chair and said, “God, don’t tell me. There’s more?”
Blake shook his head. “Maybe nothing but, yea, there is another thing. Two weeks ago, one of Matt’s employees died on the job. They say he lost his footing and fell in the wood chipper.”
The words shook him. “Killed? Fell in the wood chipper?”
“Fell? I don’t know, Chuck. The guy’s brother works for me and they hung around a lot together. They were rowdy, tough, country boys but not mean unless you messed with them the wrong way. I can’t say, for sure, the accident was anything more or less than an accident but my worker says his brother was pushed into the machine.”
Gail brought two steaming plates to the table. She placed one in front of Chuck and the other at an empty chair. She looked at Chuck and asked,” I know I shouldn’t butt in like this but, what is a chipper? I gather it’s some type of dangerous equipment at the mill?”
Before Blake could say anything, Chuck explained. “It’s a big machine that chews up the waste wood and bark from the saws. Inside there are sharp blades on a huge rotary wheel. Stuff like tree bark, limbs and wood that’s not good for anything unless you grind it up into small wood chips. The chipper grinds it up into marble size pieces they sell to a plywood mill in South Georgia. They use it to manufacture particleboard, paper products, and stuff like that. That machine gives me nightmares just thinking about it sometimes.”
Blake added. Yea, it’s a monster about the size of this room and you can hear it for miles, feel it for a thousand yards rumbling the ground. The cover blew off one like it over in Twiggs County and killed a man when it hit him. If anybody were to fall in, there wouldn’t be enough of them left to put in a match box.”
Gail shook her head in wonder. Chuck continued, “I’ve seen it chew thirty foot tall trees all to pieces in one gulp and barely wince at it. Did Matt do anything about this so called accident?”
Blake shrugged. “Matt wasn’t buying it either but some of his employees said the guy killed was trying to break up a clog near the mouth and got his pants caught on a limb stub or something. Only one man saw it happen, a new guy named Anderson. Thompson hired him about three weeks ago.”
Gail shivered and said, “Sorry I asked.”
She stared back at the kitchen. “Blake? I have some coffee r
eady. If you can’t stand my grits and eggs, maybe you can stomach my coffee. You want a cup?”
Blake looked at Gail and said, “Yea, if you don’t mind, I’d love a cup. As for your grits and eggs, I reckon if I can handle Matt’s cooking then I can handle anything. I’m just not hungry right now. Thanks again.”
Gail smiled and then asked, “You want cream and sugar?”
Blake nodded. “Just sugar, please.”
Gail went to the cabinets and started opening and closing overhead doors. Blake called out, “The Sugar bowl is in the top left cabinet. The second shelf...blue bowl.”
Chuck eyed Blake. “Boy. You know this house and Matt’s cooking better than I do. His cooking is terrible except for...”
They spoke together“…except for Catfish.”
Chuck smiled. “That’s it. He can’t boil water without burning it but he can cook a mean pan of catfish. You and Matt must have spent time together that I didn’t know about.”
“I used to stop by at least once a week after work. The last time I was here he told me about some stuff that was on his mind, something to do with Miss Abatha Pary and your Granddaddy.”
“Yes, he told me he’d found something about them but wouldn’t say just what over the phone. It was weird, as though he was worried about a phone tap or something. Has anything else happened recently? “
Blake leaned over, rested his chin on his clasped fists, and said, “I was getting to that. There’s something new about the timber deal I haven’t told you yet. I just got word about it today. Thompson, that crew boss at Matt’s mill, now claims that Matt released his claim on the property three days ago with a Fax sent to the mill office. Now they can close the gates at the dam immediately.”
Chuck snapped, “Do what? Matt would never do that to you or anybody else. His word is better than a written contract.”
“I know that, Chuck, but Thompson faxed a typed letter he says that Matt wrote to the Judge in Macon. I haven’t seen it yet because I’m not the majority owner. On some of the deals we work together, Matt takes 51 percent and I get 49. On others, we reverse it so the money stays the same in the end.”
Chuck nodded. “Yea, our father did some business deals the same way.”
Blake continued. “I wouldn’t know about this fax if it wasn’t for a friend of mine at the courthouse. She told me that Thompson gave the Sheriff a copy of Matt’s letter. So unless Matt shows up by Monday morning, it leaves me high and dry. I’m going to lose a nice piece of money invested in this deal, but I’m more concerned about what’s happened to Matt than the money now that you showed up confirming something is wrong.”
Chuck leaned back heavily in the chair and watched Gail bring cups and a pot of coffee to the table. He said, “Thompson claims Matt wrote a letter to the Judge in Macon? I want to see a copy of that in the morning.”
Gail said, “What are you going to do?”
Blake replied, “I want to see the original letter but Thompson claims Matt sent him a copy by fax machine and the Judge in Macon is supposed to have the original. Our local judge upheld the faxed copy after talking to the Macon judge.”
Chuck shook his head, thought a second, and then said, “Thompson claims he got a fax from my brother but Matt didn’t get in touch with you about any of this?”
“Nope,” Blake said curtly. “I haven’t heard from Matt. A copy of the contract was in my files at the mill but after the robbery, I couldn’t find it. The only other copy would be in Matt’s safe at his mill. It’s that old metal monster that belonged to your family.”
Chuck nodded. “Yea, I remember that thing. I’m surprised it hasn’t rusted slam out of sight by now. It’s at Matt’s office?”
Blake nodded. “It’s supposed to be.”
Chuck looked at Gail a moment and then said, “Okay, Blake. Here’s the deal. Not many people know it but I own half of Matt’s timber mill and I have the papers to prove it.”
Blake nodded. “I knew because if anything happened to him I was supposed to see to it that you got everything from the estate.”
“Matt was pretty smart about such things. I can get into Matt’s office safe and we will get your copy of the contract. I'm going to put a stop to this mess somehow. Maybe I can override this so called letter from Matt to the Judge in Macon.”
Blake smiled. “If we work together on this, I think we can pull it off. The main thing is to find out where Matt has gotten off to and I don’t mind telling you, when I heard about this letter, I got worried. This isn’t like him at all.”
Chuck thumped his fingers on the tabletop for a moment, and said, “Okay, Blake. First thing in the morning, I want to go see this guy Thompson at the mill and I'll get the papers out of the safe too. Once we have those, I’ll call Matt’s lawyer in Macon and see if we can use them to stop Pary from closing the gates at the dam. The signature has to be either a forgery or some sort of copy machine razzle dazzle.”
Blake nodded. “Mind if I ride along with you to the mill? There’s one other thing you might want to get and you’ll need me to watch your back.”
Chuck glanced at Gail and then back to Blake. “What other thing?”
Blake shrugged. “Matt kept a journal on his computer, you know, a diary. He may have printed parts of it out and kept the papers in the safe. He also may have left something in there that will clue you in on what’s happened.”
Chuck glanced at Gail who gently tilted her head. He cleared his throat and said, “Okay. I would appreciate that, Blake. I’ll pick you up in the morning. What time?”
Blake shook his head. “You don’t want to take that car of yours out to the mill, do you? In the morning give me time to stop by my place first, and then I'll come here and pick you up. It might be kind of late...probably about seven or seven thirty.”
Gail laughed. “God, I forgot that rural people consider seven o’clock in the morning to be half the day gone.”
Chuck smiled. “Yea, Gail, sleeping late around this town means ten minutes after the rooster crows. Okay, Blake, I’d appreciate the help. You mentioned Matt’s journal. I noticed he still keeps that old Packard Bell in his bedroom. There might be something on his computer here at the house too that will tell us something.”
Blake grinned and said, “I thought about that. He told me once that he uses that old crate in his bedroom to keep track of family genealogy and history or something like that. You do realize that once they know you’re back there’s likely to be some commotion, don’t you?”
“Yea, our father always told Matt and me that we rightfully own Whispering Pines Estate and property. When our grandfather was killed the estate went to his wife of less than a week who just happens to be Abatha Pary.”
Gail’s face lit up in shock. “Wait a minute. Are you telling me that Miss Abatha Pary is your legal grandmother?”
Chuck grimaced. “Legal? Hard to say and besides she would be our step grandmother, Abatha was only married a week to our grandfather before he was killed. She took control of Whispering Pines under a will he supposedly wrote the day before they were married. My grandfather left her everything, lock, stock, and barrel. Nobody could figure out why there were no provisions in the will for my father.”
Gail looked confused. “I don’t understand. Your father was the son of Tom Veal, but what happened to his first wife, your real Grandmother?”
Chuck failed to notice that Gail already knew the name was Tom and instead replied, “She died a year or so before he did during a flu epidemic. When Grandpa married Abatha, she became his stepmother. He left home as soon as he was old enough to go it alone and since then he hasn’t set foot in the Whispering Pines mansion. In this will, our daddy got nothing at all. He never had the money to fight it when he was younger. Later, when he had land and money he didn’t have the determination.”
Looking over at Blake, Chuck asked, “I don’t guess any of this is news to you. Is it?”
“No, I was hearing that story for years around town. If
it’s true then you guys got a big, bum rap and the Pary family got the rest.”
“I guess so but nobody can prove it.” Chuck couldn’t argue the facts.
Gail asked, “If your grandfather left a will then there is nothing to prove.”
Chuck said, “My father always claimed the will was a forgery. It’s a long story, Gail, and it doesn’t have anything to do with our situation now.”
Gail raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t? Are you sure?”
Chuck looked at Blake and they shook their heads. “No, Gail, I don’t see any connection with Matt’s disappearance and the old Veal’ murder.”
Gail said, “Murder? You told me your grandfather died but you didn’t say he was murdered. Can you explain that for me? This is getting a bit complicated.”
Chuck stood up, pushing his chair back in the same motion. “Tell you what, Gail. When Blake and I are at the mill tomorrow morning, maybe you could read over some of Matt’s family history files he's been writing. It pretty much explains his and my dad’s theory of what happened to Granddad.”
Blake added, “It was a murder. They say that Miss Abatha’s sister was jealous of the marriage so she put poison in their coffee one night, and then picked up the wrong cup by mistake. Matt takes the opposite theory. He thinks it was Abatha who murdered her sister and her new husband, his Grandfather, in a jealous rage.”
Chuck noticed that Gail seemed distracted all of a sudden and the conversation fell silent for a moment. Finally, Blake stood, took one last sip from his coffee cup, and said “Thanks, Gail. That was good coffee. I better head on to the house.”
“Okay. I’ll see you about seven in the morning.” Chuck replied.
Blake turned to leave. “In the morning will be just the beginning of something I don’t see ending pretty at all.”
Chuck said, “I’m glad you stopped by tonight. At least now I know where to start looking for Matt.”
Blake stopped, turned back saying, “The starting part is going to be the easiest. It’s the finishing part that has me worried.”