Author: Charles Wells
Category: Nonfiction
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/charles-wells/page,19,11504-the-beginning-(whispering-pines-book-1).html
Chapter 10
Bill Jacobs entered the Sheriff’s office and pounded his fist on the locked security entrance door. Normally, he would calmly wait for the dispatcher, Brian Mimbs, to notice him standing there and press the electronic lock release but patience was running low from lack of sleep.
Mimbs pressed the release and the sound of an angry bumblebee echoed through the room. A sour faced Jacobs pulled the door open and snapped, “What took you so long?”
Mimbs ignored the remark, “The Sheriff wants to see you.”
From habit of command, Jacobs checked the operator’s log sheet, reading over it gloomily. “Did the Sheriff get a phone call in the last few minutes?”
“Yep, he sure did. It was old lady Pary and Bubba. She was hotter than a cat out of the fire.”
“That figures. Listen, I need to check something in the files upstairs. Tell him I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
The Sheriff said he wanted to see you immediately. I was just about to call you on the radio when you signed off outside a minute ago.”
Bill, realizing Miss Pary had already lowered the boom, snapped, “Tell the Sheriff I had to check something important that he may need to see before I talk to him.”
Bill wasn’t about to tell Brian that his real motive was to look in the computer files and see if and who had responded to the missing person report on Matt Veal. Brian Mimbs, sensing his supervisor’s tone and mood, wasn’t about to push the matter beyond limits he well understood. Raising his arms in surrender he said, “Okay I’ve told you and that’s all I can do.”
The computer room was down the hall from the holding cells. Jacobs paused at the door, took a deep breath, let it out slowly and then pushed down on the door handle and stepped into the brightly lit room.
A desk, printer, computer and monitor covered most of the cramped space inside while the “brains” of the system, the mainframe unit, stood in the adjoining room. A wall with a glass partition separated the two areas. The machine operated continually around the clock. It kept track of radio transmissions, incoming phone calls from the 911 center and was networked to State and Federal sites linking all police organizations together.
Marge Shepherd, seated behind the control desk, looked up when Jacobs entered and then smiled. Bill removed his hat and said, “How’s it going, Miss Margie?”
“Slow, as usual, Bill. How goes the fight for law and order?”
“Terrible, seems like the whole world is going bad. I should have done like my mama told me and turned preacher. That way I would get to see a room full of smiling faces at least once a week.”
She grinned, “Preachers also have to marry and bury many of those smiling faces. Their jobs ain’t much better or worse than folks like you who carry the law around in a gun holster.”
Nodding toward the computer monitor, he asked, “Is there anything good to watch on TV this morning?”
“Not so far. It’s kind of quiet. We got a missing husband and some kids who got caught fishing in Miller’s pond. Oh, and the state patrol stopped a mad, little old lady from backing up the wrong side of the interstate.”
Jacobs grinned at the joke because six weeks ago, he spotted Margie backing up the exit ramp on I-16. When confronted with the vicious crime, she explained that she had mistakenly turned down the wrong ramp and needed to go back. Jacobs, being a fair and just man, had only issued her a warning ticket.
Switching to a more serious tone, he asked, “Can you check the missing person reports logged over the system during the past few weeks?”
“Sure.” Margie smiled cheerfully. “Any name you’re looking for?”
“Veal” He said. Matt Veal”
She hesitated and was about to say something, but the look on Bill’s face locked the words behind her lips. She quietly typed the information into the computer keyboard and waited.
The computer system was busy with something else and the wait took a bit longer than expected. Her curiosity finally overrode her caution and she asked, “Matt Veal? Is he missing? I thought I just saw him in town a couple of weeks ago.”
Jacobs shrugged, “I heard he was gone on business but his brother from North Carolina thinks otherwise. He filed a Missing Persons report. I need to know if we received it.”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think we have and you know me. I would have called you the moment something like that came down. I know Matt’s a friend of yours.”
“I know, Margie. I appreciate it. I’m hoping our computer made a goof or something. You know, maybe developed a bad case of over byte.”
The monitor screen filled with information. Jacobs circled the desk and leaned closer to read from the screen. Marge could only stare, eyes wide, and whisper, “This can’t be right. I’ve never seen this report before now. How did it sneak past me?”
Jacobs, still reading, saw where information, input from a secure station, stated that Matt Veal was out of town on business.
Margie stared in disbelief and said “Bill? I swear this is the first time I’ve seen that. How could I have missed it?”
Placing a hand on her shoulder, he said, “Okay. It probably came down while you were off duty or while you were out to lunch.”
Margie’s fingers raced across the keyboard and the screen cleared. Several seconds later another row of information appeared. She scanned it quickly then shook her head. “No. My terminal didn’t miss it. It was logged and stored back to the main frame on this station so the reply came from the Sheriff.”
Straightening slowly from the screen, Jacobs asked, “Can anyone else operate your console besides the Sheriff?”
“I don’t think so unless they know his password into the system.”
Jacobs turned to leave, “Okay thanks, Marge. I’d better go see him right now. Can you make a hard copy of that for me?”
“Sure can. Hang on a second.”
Five minutes later with a printed copy of the paper in hand, Jacobs stepped into Sheriff Brooks’ office. Walt was a politician first and a law enforcement officer second. For that matter, his police skills were not up to standards nor was he professional by any definition of the term. Jacobs took care of the day-to-day police operations for the department while Brooks seemed contented to sit back and play the chief.
The Sheriff, busy with some papers on his desk, didn’t seem to notice Jacobs enter. “You wanted to see me, Walt?”
Looking up suddenly and acting surprised by the voice, he motioned to a chair and said, “Sit down, Bill.”
While waiting for Jacobs to settle, he tossed the papers into a basket on the desk, “What in the world happened with Miss Pary this morning? I just got off the phone with her a half hour ago. She was burning my ears off...claims that you caught somebody trespassing on her property but turned them loose.”
Jacobs took a deep breath, “The person wasn’t trespassing. He was at the old Veal Cemetery.”
Brooks leaned back heavily in his chair, turned his eyes upward in disgust, and snorted, “That again? When did Matt get back in town?”
Jacobs shrugged. “I haven’t seen Matt. The person out there was his brother, Chuck, from North Carolina.”
Blake’s eyes widened in surprise and he snorted, “Chuck? When did he get back in town and what was he doing at the old cemetery?”
Jacobs cleared his throat. “He told me he just wanted to be sure nobody had been messing with the cemetery and the graves. He’s down here from North Carolina to check on Matt, said he hasn’t heard from him lately.”
Walt waved a hand in the air and said, “I’ve already told him on the phone Matt was out of town on business...some timber deal or other. His foreman at the mill, Thompson, said Veal was looking into buying another operation someplace.”
Jacobs sat quietly staring at the Sheriff until Walt asked, “Why don’t you tell me this? If he was looking for his brother then what was he doing out at the cemetery?”
Jacobs lied. “I don’t know but I could hardly ch
arge a man with trespassing at a legal, public graveyard.”
Brooks shook his head. “That place is not public. He was trespassing, Bill. You know as well as I do that you have to cross the Pary’s south field to reach the cemetery. You should have arrested him.”
Red warning lights flashed in Jacob's mind. Carefully he shifted his weight in the chair trying to stall for the seconds he needed to digest the Sheriff’s obscure (and illegal) attitude, an attitude no doubt fed to him by Miss Pary.
Walt continued, “Matt Veal is out of town on business. If Chuck doesn’t know, it sounds like he doesn’t keep up with his brother well.”
In a measured tone, Jacobs said, “Chuck says he hasn’t heard from Matt in over a week and he’s convinced something is wrong. I’ve known both of those boys since we were kids and I agree with Chuck. It’s not like Matt to up and run off without telling somebody, something. I’m going to handle this as a missing person and check around...see what I can find out.”
Brooks stood while taking a deep breath, “There’s no need or you’ll put us deeper into this hornet’s nest that’s stirred up already. Leave it to me and I’ll quiet the old gal down.”
Jacobs rose out of his chair holding up his hands, “I don’t give two hoots about quieting anybody down, Walt. I’m not your campaign manager...I’m a cop. I run the investigations around here because it’s part of my job.”
Brooks lowered his voice and almost whispered, “Look, Bill. You know where I have to stand in matters involving Abatha Pary. Now you tell Chuck Veal I said to stay off her property and that Matt Veal isn’t any more missing than I am.”
Tossing a copy of the report on Walt’s desk, Jacobs said, “As you well know, Walt, Chuck filed a missing person’s report and I checked our files and found a copy.”
Brooks raised a curious eyebrow, “Were you checking behind me or something? I know about the report because I responded to it earlier this week. I know you and Matt are friends and I didn’t want you getting all bent out of shape about it. I ran out to the mill and talked to Thompson. He showed me a couple of papers and a letter Matt faxed to him so we know he’s out there somewhere. He’s just busy...that’s all.”
Jacobs shook his head but Walt cut him off from speaking. “The main thing I’m telling you is to keep both of the Veal boys off the Pary property.”
Jacobs’ face paled but before he could explode, Brooks added, “God, Bill. The old woman gave me an ear full about this. If Chuck Veal is that worried, I’ll go back and talk to Thompson at the mill this afternoon. I’ll bet he’s heard from Matt in the last few days or so too.”
Jacobs didn’t trust his tongue so he nodded, and then turned to leave, paused and said “Walt? Do you believe everything Thompson tells you over what Matt’s brother has to say?”
Brooks’ eyes grew smaller and he snapped, “If Matt Veal has disappeared then Thompson would be the first person to holler but I’ll ask again to be sure. Now get home and grab some sleep. You’ve got another night shift coming up in about seven hours.”
Walking out of the Sheriff’s office, Jacobs thought, “Something is wrong here and the Sheriff is either directly involved or he’s covering up for the Pary family."