Knights of the Golden Circle Page 8

  Rory didn't know what to say.

  "Did I?" Chet asked in a broken voice. Tears rolled from his eyes again and he wiped them away with his right hand.

  Rory reached out and placed a comforting hand on Chet's shoulder.

  Chet took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He looked back into the restaurant for a brief moment and then shook his head softly, "I can't believe this."

  Squeezing the man's shoulder, Rory, "If you're up for it, I think we should go over to see the car...."

  Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Chet gave a slight nod of his head, "Yeah. Yeah, we should do that."

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Chet pulled his old Chevrolet Impala into the driveway of Atkinson Auto Body Shop & Repair. A large number of cars were lined up along the side and at the back of the building. A few looked new, some were old and damaged and others looked like they were being cannibalized for parts.

  In the passenger seat, Rory watched as a tall, skinny man in his 60s came out of an old building, the screen door snapping shut behind him.

  Chet rolled down his window, "Hey Teddy."

  "Chet," acknowledged Teddy Atkinson.

  The scent of motor oil and gasoline from Atkinson's beat up ball cap, shirt and coveralls reached Rory as the man leaned over and placed his elbows on Chet's driver side window frame.

  "What can I do for ya?" Atkinson asked Chet.

  "I've got to make a news report on Nora-Jane," Chet explained. "Thought I would get the make and model of the vehicle. Just need to fill in the details, that kind of thing."

  Teddy pushed the ball cap back on his head, revealing salt-and-pepper hair, "You sure? I can just give it to you. Make it easier...."

  "Thanks, but I'd like to do it right. Just like Nora-Jane would do," Chet answered.

  Teddy looked across at Rory for a moment. Then he nodded his head, "Yeah, that's how she would do it too. Go ahead, take your time. It's way in the back, over on the left. If I can do anything, you can find me in the shop." He patted Chet several times on the shoulder, then headed back for the screen door.

  Chet took a deep breath and put the Chevrolet in gear. Driving around into the back and around several piles of junk, they reached Nora-Jane Jackson's dark blue, Lincoln MKS luxury sedan. The front end was demolished. Chet stopped the Chevy ten feet from the wreck and stared.

  Rory waited for a moment, then got out and walked to the luxury sedan.

  Chet got out, hesitated for a moment and then walked over to Rory on the driver's side of the Lincoln. "They used the jaws of life to get the door open. She was already gone, though."

  Rory nodded. The driver side door was a crunched pile of junk, hanging from one hinge.

  "She hit the right side of the bridge dead on," Chet said. He put his hands in his pockets.

  Rory bent down and looked into the vehicle, "Did you see those photocopies? The ones from the books that you gave her?"

  Shaking his head, Chet said, "No. I never really had a chance to look. The shock of it and everything...."

  Rory stepped back and looked at the side of the Lincoln. He walked towards the back, fingers lightly touching the surface of the back door.

  Starting for the passenger side, Chet said, "I saw her put them on the passenger seat before she drove off. Maybe they're still there."

  Rory walked around the back of the Lincoln and then up to where Chet was looking into the passenger side of the car.

  Chet stuck his head partly through the opening where the window glass should be, "But I don't see anything in there. Not on the floor either." He straightened up and looked at Rory, "What do you think...?"

  Taking a step back, Rory looked at the vehicle for a few minutes. "Notice how the passenger side window is gone?"

  Chet took a step back as well and nodded, "Yeah. Probably from the accident. Maybe the photocopies got tossed out–?"

  Rory shook his head, "No, I don't think so." He pointed at the front windshield, "Notice how the front windshield is totally shattered but still intact?"

  Taking a step to the side, Chet looked at it and nodded, "Yeah?"

  "That's because it's made from laminated glass. It's created to shatter into a million pieces rather than a few sharp pieces to protect the passengers. But it's actually two layers of glass with a plastic sheet in the middle, so the actual glass fragments stay together as a whole piece. You can kick your way out but it takes a little time."

  Chet nodded his head as he looked at the windshield. He hitched up his pants and looked at Rory, "Okay...?"

  "On the other hand, the side glass is made to shatter into tiny pieces much easier, so you can kick your way out if necessary," Rory explained.

  "Right, such as when a car accidentally goes into a lake or river and such," Chet said.

  "Exactly." Rory reached out and tried to open the door. It wouldn't open. He stepped back, "Notice how the passenger side door is buckled out just a little as well?"

  "That's from the accident," Chet said. "It's wedged shut."

  Rory nodded in agreement, "Right. Now think about this. If the window had shattered in the accident, you would expect the glass to come out this way from the force as well, wouldn't you?"

  Chet looked at the hole where the glass had been, then looked into the car, "The glass is shattered inward. Some of it is still on the seat." Chet looked at Rory, realizing where he was going with his train of thought, "Someone couldn't open the door so they smashed the glass in...after the accident."

  Rory nodded again, "It might have been someone like a paramedic or trooper, getting to Nora-Jane but...."

  Blinking his eyes, considering what Rory was saying, Chet licked his lips, "Rory...Nora-Jane put the photocopies right on this seat...."

  "And someone reached in and took them," Rory concluded.

  Chet cursed. "Do you really think...?"

  Rory motioned for Chet to follow him back around to the driver's side. He ran his hand along the surface of the back door and then along the driver's side door, "See anything?"

  Stepping back a foot, Chet narrowed his eyes. Moments later, he opened them wide, "Red paint traces?"

  "Yeah. It looks to me like someone collided with the side of her car. And there are paint traces where the front fender is buckled in."

  Chet looked closer at the driver's side door, "It looks to me like there was some gray paint under the red."

  Rory looked at where he was pointing, "You're right. Someone repainted a gray vehicle."

  "I should check with the Sheriff about this," Chet said. "See if he saw this. Could be important."

  Rory thought about it for a moment, "Why don't we go over to the crash site first? Can we do that?"

  Chet shrugged, "Sure. But don't you think –?"

  "Just humor me. Please?"

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Chet stopped his old Chevrolet Impala as Rory asked, on the gravel shoulder of the roadway, twenty feet away from the Knox River bridge. The accident scene was on the other side of the bridge. Chet got out and stood beside Rory at the front of the vehicle, "What are we looking for?"

  "Not sure. Let's just take a walk and go take a look," Rory said as he gestured to the other side of the bridge.

  "I just couldn't believe it when I first saw her car crunched into the steel girders," Chet said as they walked across the bridge. "Like Jesse said, Nora-Jane knew these roads like the back of her hand." He wiped a tear from his eye.

  Rory looked over the edge of the bridge at the fast flowing water below. Nothing stood out or caught his attention. A few moments later they were on the side where the accident had occurred. Rory took a cursory glance at the steel girders, where the car had come to its final resting spot, and then he continued walking.

  Chet kept stride with him, not saying a word.

  Rory didn't say anything either. He just kept walking along the pavement, looking for anything that might give them a clue as to what had happened.

  Chet walked along beside Rory for one hundred yards, wiping a tear or
two from his eyes as he thought about his friend and her last trip along this road.

  Stopping, Rory turned around and began the walk back towards the bridge. But he went slower this time. He kept looking from one shoulder to the next.

  Chet walked along beside him, silent.

  Rory stopped when they reached the bridge again. He turned around and looked back up the road.

  "You see anything?" Chet asked.

  "Not really," Rory answered.

  "I guess we'll never really know –"

  No, Chet. Think about it," Rory prodded. He gestured back down the road, "Why don't we see anything?"

  Chet looked at Rory with confusion on his face, "What you mean?" He looked back down the road, then at the bridge, "If there's nothing to see, there's nothing to see, right?"

  Rory pointed down at the gravel shoulder near the point of impact, "What do you see in the gravel on the shoulder where her car was sitting?"

  Chet looked down and thought about it. Then he shrugged, "Just the drag marks from when Teddy Atkinson pulled her car onto the road to get it onto his flat bed truck."

  "Why nothing else?"

  Chet's face screwed up in confusion again. He scratched the back of his head as he looked at the drag marks, then further up the gravel shoulder. "Sorry...I don't...."

  "Did the sheriff or the state troopers do any measuring or accident scene reconstruction when you were here?"

  Chet shook his head no, "Probably done it before I got here –"

  Rory's saw realization come across Chet's face.

  Chet looked down at the gravel shoulder. His gaze followed the gravel shoulder all the way back to the hundred yard mark, where they had been standing only a few moments before, "There are no skid marks or any kind of tires marks along on the shoulder. Someone has smoothed out the gravel shoulder all the way back and beyond."

  Rory nodded, "The only marks left were when they pulled the car out to put it on the flatbed. And you were here. So...?"

  "So they left those. They had to," Chet said with a nod. He did some thinking. "I heard the report that they had found her car and I came right out here. There were only a couple of state troopers and the sheriff. They would have headed out here at the same time as me. And when I got here, they were not doing any measuring or accident reconstruction. We all just stood there and watched as Nora-Jane's car was pulled out from against the steel girders."

  "And they can't do any measuring now because all the evidence has been wiped out," Rory added.

  "You think someone tampered with the scene, right after they took the photocopies?" Chet asked.

  "Maybe. Or maybe somebody else did."

  "Like the police? I have a hard time believing that. I've known most of those guys all my life here," Chet reasoned.

  "Both you and Nora-Jane Jackson were frustrated that the authorities, including the local police, didn't take the reports of all those missing children more seriously."

  Chet nodded then whispered, "You're right. Nora-Jane pushed me in that direction as well. I just didn't want to believe it, I guess. And I guess I just got her killed...."

  "No, someone else did that," Rory said firmly. "We just need to find out who...and why?"

  Chapter 14

  RORY SAT QUIETLY as Chet drove them back into town. There was no doubt some kind of conspiracy was going on here. But even Rory found it difficult to believe that a group of grown men would be willing to kill children who were coming close to their beloved treasure. Children were victims of war and there were child soldiers created in Africa, but this was America he kept telling himself.

  A cell phone rang. It was Chet's and he reached over and picked it up from the cup holder he had it sitting in. Driving with one hand, he pressed a button and set it back down, "Chet Calhoun," he answered. "You're on speaker phone."

  "Mr. Calhoun, this is Desmond Beck from the Historical Archives in Atlanta. Do you have a moment?"

  Chet looked over at Rory, puzzled. "Yes sir, what can I do for you?"

  "I just heard about Nora-Jane Jackson on the news down here," Beck said. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

  "Thank you," Chet said.

  "When are they going to have the funeral? Has it been set yet?"

  "Not sure," Chet answered.

  "Still too soon, I imagine."

  Rory mouthed, 'Who?'

  Chet just shrugged.

  "I'll send you a text message with my cell phone number if you don't mind," Beck said. "I'd like to know when the funeral is so I could attend, if possible."

  "Of course," Chet said. "I'll send you the information as soon as I get it."

  "Thank you. Now to the matter at hand. I trust you still want the information on those photocopies you gave to Nora-Jane?"

  Chet nearly drove off the road. He looked at Rory, surprise written across his face. "You have the photocopies, Mr. Beck? How? Nora-Jane hadn't left yet –"

  "She took images with her cell phone and sent them to me," Beck answered. "She was very anxious to find information on them as quickly as possible, so she sent them on ahead of her arrival. She was the same right to the end, wasn't she? Diligent, always working away–"

  Chet pulled over to the shoulder and stopped, "Yes, she was. Did you find anything out? Were you able to figure out where those pages came from?"

  "Oh yes. Not all that difficult a task really. Just took a bit of patience, which we have lots of here. Have to, you know? Anyways, the original images appeared to be from a tintype, which became very popular during the American Civil War," Beck explained. "So we started our search from the start of the Civil War in April of 1861 and worked forward. Very simple really."

  "And...?" Chet prompted.

  Rory could see Chet's knee bouncing up and down.

  "And we found where they were copied from. Back about seventy-five years ago, there was a project to gather copies of historical books from around the southern states. A number were sent to us from the Golden area. Those images were in a book sent here for that project and the book pinpointed them to being taken back in 1887."

  "Do you know where?" Chet asked. His knee was bouncing harder.

  "Oh yes. Let's see...they were taken up near a geographic point designated as Cherokee Ridge."

  Chet's knee stopped bouncing, "Are you sure? I've been up in that area. All of us young'uns around here hiked up into that area. I'm positive we would've seen those signs if they were there–"

  "Oh no, sir. You wouldn't. They aren't there today," Beck assured him. "In fact, they haven't been there for a long, long time. They would have disappeared somewhere around 1888."

  "How do know that?" Rory asked.

  Beck hesitated, only now aware that someone else besides Chet Calhoun was listening. "Well...that was when the Cherokee Dam was put in. There are other pictures taken up there around that time, probably to preserve the–"

  Chet spoke slowly, "Cherokee Dam...Cherokee Dam...I vaguely remember hearing something about that when I was a boy."

  "It was only used for a few years. There was an attempt to get a sawmill working up there, using power from the dam," Beck explained. "They put up bunkhouses and a cook shack, but there was a lot of opposition from locals for some reason. There were a few deaths and the company that put in the dam and sawmill had to hire guards at great expense. The project eventually proved to be economically unviable when the opposition continued, as well as dangerous–"

  "Hold on. You said a few deaths? Any idea how they died? And who died?" Chet asked. He looked over at Rory, wondering...

  "No. But I could look back into old county records, newspaper reports for the time, that sort of thing," Beck offered. "Why? Is that important, Mr. Calhoun?"

  Rory looked at Chet and shook his head no.

  "No, that'll be fine. If we need more information on that we'll get right back at you," Chet said.

  "Alright, then," Beck said. "Oh! And Nora-Jane also asked me to find out if anyone else had asked about this information. Let's
see...I found an interlibrary request from your local library for one of their patrons...a Corry Mark Haney."

  Chet looked at Rory.

  "I hope that helps," Beck said.

  "It does. Very much so. Thank you," Chet said. "And one last thing, Mr. Beck. When you send me your text message could you also send me the images of the photocopies sent to you by Nora-Jane? I haven't been able to retrieve the ones from her car...."

  "Of course, I understand," Beck said. "If I can be of any further help, please don't hesitate to call me. Goodbye."

  The phone clicked off. "Goodbye," Chet said quietly. He sat there motionless, looking out the windshield.

  "Is this Cherokee Ridge very far from here?" Rory asked after a moment.

  "Not really," Chet said as he stared through the windshield. "We used to hike up there in the morning as young'uns, hunting for treasure signs all the way...and be back home just before sundown. We would pack a lunch...we had a great time...."

  "So Corry could've easily gone up there and be back, without his mother knowing it," Rory said.

  Chet nodded his head, "Sure could. Our families never knew when we went up there. As far as they all knew, we was just gone all day long, playing in the woods."

  Rory sat quietly himself, thinking.

  "I wonder how Corry knew to look for those old history books?" Chet asked after another moment.

  "Donna-Lou said he was always looking for more information on the treasure. He would frequent forums on the Internet, talk to anybody he could about it," Rory reasoned. "Someone may have tipped him off about the old historical books from the area being sent to the Historical Archives in Atlanta. Or he may have come across references to them when he was going through all the local historical books and records still in your library here. Either way, he sent for the books and came across the signs."