CHAPTER 63
I had tried to call Clem on his cell and gotten no answer, so my next call was to his wife as I was driving out to where he lived in a small cottage on the Merritt River. Clem was an avid fisherman and hunter, so he was no doubt out on his skiff, trolling for bass.
Jennie Lee Haskins picked up on the second ring, her mellow voice coming through the line. “Hello?”
“Good morning Jennie Lee, it’s Harper.” I had known Jennie Lee for most of my adult life, starting out when she was my English teacher at Wolf Hollow High. Back then, she was still in her late thirties, and I had had a small crush on her, which did not go unnoticed by my friends. Of course, nothing ever came of it, but I have always held a soft spot for her even after I graduated. She and Clem didn’t meet until later in life, and I firmly believe that even though Clem was still in his early sixties, and could have been Chief for another ten years, the reason for his sudden retirement was that he was so enamored with his new bride, he retired so he could spend as much time with her as possible. And I honestly couldn’t blame him.
“Harper Jones!” She suddenly trilled out. “What a pleasant surprise! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”
After exchanging further pleasantries, I explained that I was looking for my old boss, the Chief, and that he hadn’t answer my calls.
“Oh, he’s up in his deer blind with Delambert, playing hunter and drinking beer. He doesn’t have reception up there.” She replied disapprovingly. Jennie Lee wasn’t a fan of hunting and guns, but she realized it was a sacrifice she would have to make, as long as he didn’t poke fun at her Thursday night book club.
Cursing, I slammed on the breaks and spun the wheel. “So you and Clem aren’t home?”
“Oh no dear. We’re up at the cabin. Him with his Winchester, and me with my books.” She chuckled softly.
Grumbling, I completed my U-turn, and accelerated, heading towards the Blue Ridge mountains. Clem had bought a small hunting cabin years ago, and over the years had added to it, transformed it into a rustic getaway that sat on the edge of a small mountain lake. He had brought me up there a few times over the years, and though we never bagged any deer, it was a relaxing getaway from the travails of everyday life.
Glancing at my watch, I mentally calculated that I could be there by seven, and Clem should be back from the blind by that point. “Jennie Lee, I really need to speak to him about Anders’ case, so I’m heading your way. Be there just after dark.”
“Harper, that will be wonderful, it’ll be great to see you!” As she said that, I felt a little surge of excitement at her words, no doubt left over from my teenage fantasies.
“I’m making rabbit stew and homemade biscuits; you must stay for dinner!” She continued, enthusiasm in her voice at having a guest.
I winced, not quite able to match her excitement. When it came to proteins, rabbit wasn’t high on my list. “We’ll see Jennie Lee. I might have to run back, depending on what Clem says.”
“Well then, Clem is just gonna have to keep his old trap shut!” She teased, but she recognized the serious tone of my voice. “Then I’ll just have to wrap some to go!”
I signed off with Jennie Lee as I turned onto 264 west, stepping on the gas. Regardless of what Clem had to say, I wanted to get back to Wolf Hollow as soon as possible. Something still didn’t feel right, and I wanted to be near Angie in case Jericho managed to find her and attacked tonight.
An hour and a half later, I turned onto a dirt road that led up into a mountain carpeted with towering pines. Five minutes later, I pulled into a small gravel drive that ended at a log cabin, with smoke curling out of a chimney into the fading light of night.
Pulling in behind Clem’s grey Toyota 4-Runner and a Ford F-150, which I assumed was Delambert’s, I grabbed my phone and stepped out. My phone vibrated slightly, alerting me that I had missed a call while I’d been driving here. Flipping it on, I saw that I had missed two calls from Angie. Cold fingers grasped my stomach as I punched in Angie’s number. When Angie didn’t pick up, I muttered a curse and tried Medora. As I hurried up the weathered stairs to the front porch with two stained wood rocking chairs, I could hear muted sounds of talk and laughter from withing.
I knocked on the door as Medora’s phone also went to voicemail. I left an urgent message for Medora to call me back. Why are people so damn difficult at communicating? I wondered, as the weatherbeaten oaken door swung smoothly open on well-oiled hinges.
“Jones! What a surprise!” Clem boomed heartily. Clem was a bear of a man, standing six-four and easily weighing in at two-hundred fifty pounds. With a full head of snow-white hair, a drooping salt and pepper moustache, and wearing a heavy hand-knit woolen sweater underneath a pair of dark, bloodstained overalls and worn hiking boots, Clem looked as though he belonged at the logging camp that used to be on Abbots Trail.
“Clem, good to see you’re aging gracefully.” I replied, shaking his extended hand and inadvertently glancing down at his boots, an unbidden thought suddenly creeping into the back of my mind.
“Well don’t just stand there, come on in!” Clem pronounced, stepping back.
Stepping thru the doorway into the cheery, well-lit interior of the cabin, my hand unconsciously drifted towards the holstered gun clipped to my belt.
Clem, being a thirty-year vet of the Wolf Hollow police force, noticed my arm moving subtly, and his robust smile from a moment ago faded slightly as a look of concerned curiosity passed across his gaze.
“Harper?” he asked quietly, “Is something wrong?”
Mentally shaking my head and chastising myself for my overactive, conspiracy-driven imagination, I brought my gaze back to his face and gave a half-smile. “That’s actually a loaded question Clem. A lot going on in Wolf Hollow. That’s why I had to drive out to see you.”
A puzzled look briefly passed his face, then he said, “Well, let’s grab you a drink. We have some time before Jenny Lee’s rabbit stew is done. We can go-“
“Harper Jones, as I live and breathe!” Jenny Lee interrupted from behind Clem’s massive bulk. “Get in here, it’s been way to long!”
Clem stepped further inside, revealing the petite form of Jennie Lee, clad in a blue and white famers dress under white apron, her grey-streaked blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Even in her late fifties, I felt my heart still give a brief flutter at seeing her again. Jennie Lee had high cheekbones, dancing deep blue eyes, and a pert, upturned button nose over a wide smile and the prettiest dimples this side of the Blue Ridge Mountains. She didn’t need make-up to accentuate her natural beauty, and even the wrinkles around her laughing eyes seemed to make her more attractive. Yep, I thought, stepping into the cabin, Clem definitely punched above his weight with Jennie Lee.
After surviving an enthusiastic hug from my old English teacher, I followed Clem through the living room, where a large black man dressed in jeans and flannel shirt was holding a beer and puffing on a pipe while staring into crackling fireplace, lost in his own thoughts.
“That’s Delambert.” Clem explained, clapping me on the back as he guided me towards a rustic door next to the kitchen. “He lives up here year-round in his cabin down the road. He’s quiet, which is good for me, ‘cause I got a big mouth. Right De-lam?”
Delambert started slightly at the sound of his name and looked up at me with tired eyes, nodded slightly in acknowledgement of my presence, then turned back to the fire, a puff of tobacco smoke wafting above his head.
Leaving Delambert to his thoughts, Clem and I passed the small kitchen, where Jennie Lee had returned to stirring a pot over a small gas stove as the comingling aromas of fresh rabbit, mushrooms, garlic and thyme wafted through the cabin, doing spirited battle with the pipe smoke.
“You boys don’t take too long, hear?” Jennie Lee called to us, shaking her wooden spoon, “rabbit’s almost done!”
“We’ll be done when we’re done Jennie!” Clem retorted, as he held the door open for me. “That rabbit ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
I stepped past Clem into a small room that seemed like it couldn’t decide whether it was a study or a larder for the game that Clem killed. On the left wall was a small opened rolltop desk with a closed laptop amidst papers scattered about, and a weathered office chair that I recognized from Clem’s old office. Straight ahead was a solid, iron-banded door separating two windows that afforded a glimpse out into the darkened forest. And to the right was a stainless-steel prep table with a cabinet on one side, and a large, two-door refrigerator on the other.
Clem followed me in, then shut the door quietly, cutting off the delicious smells that were making my stomach growl. He lumbered over to the refrigerator, and opening one side, drew out two bottles of beer. Twisting the caps off easily, he handed one to me, to a long pull, then gave me a quizzical look.
“So what’s this all about?” He asked. “Jennie says you had to come up and see me, and then when you get here, I saw a shadow come across your face at the door.” He pointed his beer at me. “Don’t bother denying it.”
I took a sip of my beer, a dark rich flavor with hints of caramel and chocolate. I had known Clem since I started on the force, and he had always been a straight shooter. Now, if one of my theories was correct, Clem had Anders working on something sub rosa, and that may have gotten him killed. I needed to know the truth, and I couldn’t help myself, I glanced down at his hiking boots again.
Clem followed my gaze, then looked back up at me. “And what’s with staring at my boots?”
Here goes. “Clem,” I said slowly, “I’m sorry, but I gotta ask. What brand are your boots?” I pointed my beer at his feet.
Clem looked at me funnily, the raised a foot, balancing on one leg. “I’m not even sure.” He said. “I’ve got three or four pairs. I keep one set up here, the rest down at the house.” Referring to the cottage on the Merritt that he and Jennie Lee shared. Looking at the pressed logo on his boots, he answered, “these are made by Merrill.” He looked up at me questioningly. “Why?”
I looked at him steadily. “I’m re-examining Anders and Alison’s murders. The boot print in the sniper’s nest where Anders was shot from was made by a Salomon hiking boot.”
Clem, who had taken another pull of his beer, suddenly sputtered, “And what? You think I killed my own detective? Is that why you came all the way up here?”
I hadn’t even considered it until I saw Clem in the doorway wearing the hiking boots. And now that he had called me out, it did seem rather ridiculous. Still…” What about the other pairs down at your house?” I asked quietly.
“Shit, I don’t know! I don’t keep track of all the brands of my clothes! You’re welcome to look on your way back!” He retorted. “Is that why you came all the way up here? To ask me about my boots?”
I took a deep breath. This wasn’t going the way I wanted, and I needed information from him, which he probably wouldn’t give me if he was all pissed.
“Clem, I’m sorry.” I began. “Between Alison, Jericho, Angie, and Anders, I’m all over the place. I’ve got way too many questions, and not enough information, and I saw your boots, and I might have overreacted…” I trailed off. Not that I wouldn’t be checking those other pairs the first chance I got. “But no, your boots are not why I came all the way up here.”
Mollified somewhat, Clem took another pull. “So what did you really want?” He asked, some tension still in his voice.
I proceeded to fill Clem in on everything that had happened, including my suspicions about Devlin and Chu, Angie’s abduction and subsequent rescue and the handcuff mystery, as well as Medora’s coincidental connection to the Marshals.
Clem listened in silence, his anger slowly dissipating. Now, as he finished his beer, he rose off the stool he had been sitting on, and opened the fridge for another beer, noting that I had barely touched mine.
“I met Marshals Devlin and Chu.” He began, shutting the door and popping the top. “When Alison was killed. They showed up on the down low.” He hesitated. “I was ordered not to betray their confidence, but they wanted to follow your investigation into Alison’s murder, ostensibly to see where it led you.”
“Yeah,” I said bitterly. “I heard. They were only there to cover their ass. Make sure Alison’s Witness Protection connection wasn’t made. So it wouldn’t get out that they had failed at their job.”
Clem nodded somberly. “And when you were stymied, they were satisfied. They again told me that in the matter of ‘national interest’, I wasn’t to speak of it. I felt shitty about not telling you, but I felt I didn’t have a choice.” He sighed heavily.
I felt the latent anger against the Marshals for all my wasted effort and as well as the injustice done to Alison, but swallowed it and said, “So, did Devlin and Chu seem on the level to you?”
Clem shrugged. “They had the credentials. I called Houston to verify they were who they said they were. But crooked? I really don’t know.”
I nodded, thinking to myself, the beer in my hand completely forgotten. “And Anders.” I asked quietly. “Was he running some secret investigation or sting for you that I didn’t know about? Or hell, maybe something for the Marshals that I wasn’t looped in on for some reason?”
Clem looked at me, a tinge of hurt in his eyes. “No.” he said forcefully. “He was not. And after he was brutally assassinated, even if he was running something for me, I would have told you.” Clem paused. “He was a cop, your partner for Chrissake.”
I looked him in the eyes for a long moment and believed him. He was genuinely upset that I felt I even had to ask. “What about Devlin and Chu? Could he have been running something for them, without your knowledge?”
Clem broke eye contact and shook his head. “I have no idea, but I don’t see how, without someone finding out.”
I was about to ask another question when I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. Hastily, I put my beer down on the table and pulled it out, sliding the Accept icon to activate it.
“Angie! I’ve been trying to reach you!”
“Harper, finally! Where have you been?” She said urgently at the same time.
Her voice was a soothing balm for jangled nerves and muddled thoughts as I swiftly recounted my last few hours while Clem watched me intently.
“So wait!” She interrupted me quickly. “You’re not in Wolf Hollow?”
“No…” I replied slowly, a feeling of dread beginning to form. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s…wrong.” She replied hastily. “It’s just, well, I’m being guarded by the police until they catch this Jericho or they put me in Witness Protection, and…” She paused, an embarrassed silence, then, “I want you here protecting me.” She said suddenly.
An unbidden warmth arose inside of me when she said this as my dormant protective instincts for my ex-wife suddenly flooded my synapses. Then, cold reality slapped me in the face as I thought about Barnes and his orders.
“Angie,” I began, “I’ve been re-assigned, off the Jericho case. Chief Barnes thinks I’m too close to the case since you’ve been…involved.” I finished. “Besides,” I continued hastily, before she could protest, “I’m sure you’re in a secure, anonymous motel, with a twenty-four-hour police detail.” Clem was nodding sagely as he listened to this standard protocol.
A prolonged silence followed my statement, until finally I couldn’t stand it. “Angie?” I ventured. “What?”
I heard a faint sniffle through the phone, then “I’m not at a hotel, I’m home.”
“What?!” I interrupted, almost dropping my phone in shock.
“It was my idea.” She rushed on. “I didn’t want to stay in a dirty little motel room. Besides, I do have officers here, and I asked Medora to be here too…”
Goddamn Angie and her need of the finer things! I raged silently. Just once, she couldn’t just do what she was told, even if it meant spending a few nights in a squalid motel!
“…and I wanted you to be here too, but I called Chief Barnes and he told me unequivocally no. So, then I tried to call you…” she finished lamely.
By this point, I had already tossed my nearly full beer in the nearest trash can and was heading towards the door. Once she told me she was home and not in an anonymous hotel, I had already decided to cross Barnes’ line again. Additionally, given my sudden uncertainty about Medora, I was also gonna get there in record time. A man with Jericho’s intellect could easily find a way to locate where Angie lived…
“Never mind Angie, I’m on my way.” I replied, looking at my watch. “Is Medora there now?”
I could hear an audible sigh of relief. “Yes, she’s downstairs. And there’s an officer in the lanai, and two out front in a car.”
I was mollified, but only slightly. If Jericho found out where she was, he’d attack sooner rather than later, what with a platoon of FBI agents descending on Wolf’s Hollow in the next day.
“Make sure the alarm is set, get a kitchen knife, and don’t turn on the television or any noise, so you can hear anything unusual. You understand? I’ll be there soon!”
“I have a gun-“she started to say, as I flicked my phone off. A gun? I thought. Where did that come from?
I hastened through the cabin, passing Delambert, still ruminating on the couch, and Jennie Lee in the kitchen, who looked up startled as I hustled past.
I quickly apologized to her, explaining that I was urgently needed back in Wolf Hollow, and that I’d try some of her rabbit stew next time. She opened her mouth to object, but Clem, who had followed me out of the back room, silenced her with a stern glance. Instead, she wished me a safe trip, giving me smile and a wave.
I went through the front door, Clem hot on my heels. “Harper, hold on a sec.” When I continued to my car, Clem shouted, “Harper wait! I need to tell you something!”
I hopped in my car and started the engine, the loud roar of my engine breaking the earthy silence as Clem huffed up to my window. I rolled it down and looked at him impatiently.
“Look,” He began. “I don’t know if it’s relevant, but, when I retired last year, the reason wasn’t what you think.”
I looked at Clem with a slightly confused expression. “I don’t understand Clem but make it quick.”
Clem glanced around, as if checking to make sure we were alone, then leaned in close. “I had to retire.” He whispered hoarsely. “I was being blackmailed!”
Clem now had my full attention. “Blackmailed? Clem, what the hell are you talking about?”
Clem glanced around again, licking his lips furtively. The cheery, robust man that met me at the door thirty minutes ago had just changed into a terrified copy of that person with a secret that he’d been holding inside. Until now.
Clem reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded-up sheet of paper. Unfolding it with trembling hands, he pushed it through the window.
Curious, I reached for the paper and finished unfolding it. On the paper was an enlarged copy of a photograph of Jennie Lee, on her knees in her garden behind their cottage, digging into the fertile soil. Superimposed on the picture was a hand drawn red circle around Jennie Lee, with a cross through the circle. In shooters terms, it was a bullseye, centered right on Jennie Lee. Below, was handwritten two words in capital letters: RESIGN NOW.
Clem stood up and took a long pull on the beer he held in his other hand. “Two weeks before I stepped down, I received this in the mail, and one just like it, every day up until I resigned.” He paused. “Sometimes the photos were different – Jennie Lee in our driveway, at the bank, through the window of our kitchen.” He drew a shuddering breath. “I was too afraid to tell anyone. I tried to track the mail on my own, but they were sent from locations all around North Carolina. I ran the letters for fingerprints on my own, but nothing. The last letter I received was different, it said ‘RESIGN TODAY – OR ELSE’. So, I did. And then the letters stopped.”
I took my foot off the gas for a minute and stared at Clem, processing his revelation. “You were forced to resign? Who would want you to quit?”
Clem shook his head miserably. “I drove myself crazy asking myself the same question for those two weeks, and I couldn’t come up with anyone. But I couldn’t let anything happen to Jennie Lee…so, I retired.”
I stared at Clem. “Jesus. Does Jennie Lee know?”
Clem shook his head. “No, I just couldn’t tell her that she was the reason that I gave up a career I had loved for over thirty years. But ever since I retired, I’m so happy that I did.” He glanced back towards the cabin. “She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. And in a strange way, so were those resignation demands.”
He paused as I continued to stare. Then he said, “I have no idea if these letters have anything to do with what’s been going on, but they started soon after Alison and Anders were murdered. And since you’re looking into those killings again, and with everything else you got going on, well I guess I thought you should know.”
I nodded slowly, thinking hard, then suddenly snapped back to the present. Think on the road! Angie could be in danger! I hastily jammed my car into drive and took my foot off the brake as the engine roared its throaty approval. I looked back at Clem as I backed out, gravel crunching underneath the tires. “I dunno if this has anything to do with what’s going on earlier Clem, but I sure as shit wish you had told me before now! We’re definitely going to talk about this again!” With that, I pressed a button and my window rolled up as I turned sharply and floored it back towards Wolf Hollow. My last look at Clem was him staring at the ground, shoulders slumped, like he had lost his best friend.
I couldn’t necessarily be too mad at him. Jennie Lee was indeed a wonderful woman, and I could understand his fear. But that didn’t change the fact that someone wanted him to retire. Why? I asked myself as I accelerated into the night. Does it have anything to do with Alison, Anders, or even Jericho? And more importantly, who would benefit?
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