Road to Nowhere (31 page)

“They would really have to tear up Hemlock?”

“The road comes over the mountains and hits that one narrow stretch of six blocks in Mountain View, then it widens out again down the hill to downtown Wardsville. Engineering-wise, it’s obvious. The point is, though, why does the whole thing have to be so big scale? It doesn’t make sense.”

“They must think there will be that many cars.”

“I don’t get that, either. The projections in the report look way too high.”

“They think there will be lots more houses?”

“Maybe. But a couple months ago, I got some projections from the office in Asheville. The board asked me to, the month before Wade Harris died. They’re completely different than the ones in the report tonight. If they’d used the projections I had, the road would be a nice wide two-lane with a couple switchbacks and no cut at the top.”

Tonight was a bright moon. There was no need for candles. Eliza sat by the window in the pure, thin light.

How terrible the meeting had been. Those people with their haughty smiles and deceiving words and papers. She had never touched the book offered to her. Patsy would have found it on the table after the meeting.

The Warrior would take retribution on those bringing this assault.

July 4, Tuesday

“I have no idea what to expect,” Steve said. They were turning onto Hemlock from Main Street.

“You’ve said that five times,” Natalie said.

“That means I’m nervous.”

“I know.”

“I figure, I’m new on the board, I should go to the picnic. I didn’t even know the county had a picnic until they invited us last night. What are we supposed to do at a county picnic?”

“Eat?”

“Yeah, I mean what else? Shake hands and kiss babies?”

“You aren’t running for president, Steve.”

“I really have no idea what to expect.”

The Fourth of July picnic was usually one of Randy’s favorite events, with lots of Wardsville neighbors and Humphrey King grilling hamburgers and hot-dogs by the dozen, and congenial conversation and watching the children play at the park, but this year the thought of lots of Wards-ville neighbors didn’t quite go with congenial conversation, especially with the board meeting just the night before still fresh in everyone’s mind. So he settled himself at a table near the grill and sent Sue Ann to get him a plate, and waited for the neighbors to find him.

Well, there were enough people, even if Byron had stayed home. Even Mr. Coates was there.

But Louise wasn’t worried about Mr. Coates. She put her cooler by the drinks. There was food to take care of.

“Randy!” It was Everett. Randy put on a big smile and leaned against the table. And Everett’s brother Richard was with him, and both wives, and they all sat right around Randy’s table. But they didn’t look like they were really enjoying the holiday.

“Look at him,” Steve said, pointing at Randy. Max and Josie were on the swings and Andy was asleep and he and Natalie were actually just sitting. In peace.

“He’s sure popular,” she said. Randy was surrounded by a dozen citizens.

“I’m not sure that’s the right word.”

“Do you know any of these people?”

“Uh—oh, come here. It is time for you to meet Louise.”

The baby was adorable! Louise couldn’t stand it. “Look at him!” And Steve and Natalie, what a nice couple they were. Andy was just sleeping away, dressed so cute, and their other two were precious, and playing so nice on the swings.

Louise was so glad to meet them all! She made sure they got plenty to eat.

“Let me get my breath,” Natalie said when they were sitting again. “How could anybody be so friendly? It would wear me out.”

“She’s like that
continually.
Except when somebody isn’t playing nice, and then it transforms into righteous fury.”

“I need to come to one of these board meetings. So, are there any fireworks tonight?”

“People go to Asheville. If you want fireworks, look at Randy.” The guy was engulfed. There were now twenty irate people around him.

“At least there are no Gold Valley people here,” Natalie said. “Nobody even knows you.”

But his phone was ringing. “Hi, Steve Carter.” Then he looked at her, and smiled, and listened. “Jim Ross,” he said after the first pause. “He’d like to discuss Gold River Highway with me. He doesn’t think I represented the district’s interests very well last night.”

July 6, Thursday

Gordon Hite looked up from his desk. “I’m kind of busy, Joe.”

“Have you talked with Everett Colony yet?”

Gordon shook his head, like he was tired. “Yes, I did, a couple days ago. We had a long talk. I think you need to just drop this whole idea you’ve got about Mort and Wade Harris.”

“What did Dr. Colony say?”

“He wrote
Automobile accident
on the death report and that’s what it was, and a person can read the report for himself if he has any questions.”

“And Mort Walker?”

“Heart attack, plain and simple.”

“Is that all he said?”

“We had a long talk, but that’s the main part of it.”

Fool business. Fool sheriff, fool doctor, the whole lot of them.

“What else did you talk about, Gordon?”

“Well—we weren’t just talking about this. Some other things, too, but they’re not part of this at all.”

“Because Everett Colony says so? That’s not good enough.”

“I’m making my own decisions, not what he tells me.”

It was time to make his own decision. “I want to know if you’re going to do your job or not.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Gordon looked as frustrated as Joe felt.

“Go to Asheville and get the State Police.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“Because they’ll come up here and nose around and make all kinds of trouble and leave me looking a fool. And people’ll be asking why I need help to do my job, and I’m up for election again fall next year.”

And people would have a right to an answer. “There might be people from out of state involved in this,” Joe said. “You’d need the State Police to help with that.”

“Out of state? Of all things, Joe. What do you even think is happening here, anyway? Killings? Out of state people involved?”

“Because it’s a road.”

“I don’t believe it,” Gordon said. “There is nothing happening! Nothing! And you’ll be the one who’s left looking a fool if you bring in outsiders and there’s nothing to find.”

“I’ll go talk to Everett Colony.”

“Well, go right ahead, Joe, and don’t blame me for getting your head bit off.”

That’s what Gordon had got, and that’s all it would take for him.

“Did you search Wade Harris’s car for any bullets?”

“Of course not. In that wreck, there’s no chance you’d ever find something that small. And it’s never crossed my mind at all to look for a bullet, not until you came in a couple weeks ago.”

“Where’s the car now?”

“They towed it off from Gabe’s a month ago. Wasn’t even good for parts. Are you really going to see Everett?”

“I am.”

“Luke?” Louise frowned at the front of the salon. “What are you doing in here? And close the door.”

“I was just wondering.”

“Wondering what?”

He looked back and forth. There was no one else in the shop. “Do you give haircuts?”

“I think I can,” Louise said. “You need one anyway.”

“The last girl I had for a secretary at the newspaper used to cut it for me,” Luke said, “but she’s gone.”

“Just sit there.”

She put him in the far back chair so he wouldn’t frighten off any real customers.

“Now, that meeting Monday night was a real whopper,” he said.

Louise was giving the mop a critical look. “Everybody should just calm down.”

“Careful about those ears!”

“Well, you never use them.”

“Of course I do,” Luke said.

“From what you write, I don’t think you do.”

Luke was moving his head too much, and Louise finally put her hand down on the top and pushed, to hold it still.

“Speaking of listening,” he said. “What do you think about this road?”

“That I don’t want to ever hear about it again.”

“I think you will. I don’t think it’s very popular.”

“In some neighborhoods it isn’t. In some it is.”

“Gold Valley, sure, but they’ve got along forever without it. Have you thought about what it would do to your shop here?”

“What would it do?” Louise said. “New customers, if anything.”

“Roads go both ways, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Some old customers might go the other way.”

“There’s nothing in Gold Valley.”

“Not now, but there’s no road to it, either.”

“McCoy? This is where you work?”

Randy jerked his head up, part because he recognized the voice and part because he didn’t believe his ears.

“Mr. Coates? Well, come on in. Come right in! Have a seat.”

Roland Coates stared around first, as if he still didn’t believe he had the correct place, and then as if he didn’t trust the chair Randy was offering him.

“You can’t afford any better than this?”

Randy thought about Roland’s own threadbare office. “I don’t like to waste money, to tell the truth, and this old desk has stood the test of time.”

That was an answer Roland would appreciate, even if it wasn’t exactly accurate, as Randy wouldn’t mind at all a fancy new office set.

“For all the money I send you, I’d have expected something frivolous. Anyway, I’m not here for that. I want my zoning changed.”

“Your zoning . . . you mean, for the furniture factory?”

“Of course that’s what I mean.”

“Now, that land’s zoned special for the factory just the way it is.”

“I don’t want it for the way the factory is. I want it so I can do anything I want.”

A vision of a shopping center appeared before Randy’s eyes.

“What do you have in mind?”

But Roland’s mouth clapped shut and then only opened enough to say, “Just anything.”

“You’d have to give us some idea.”

“I won’t. Now, what do I have to do to fix the zoning?”

“Well, you’d fill out the forms for the Planning Commission, and they’d look it all over and vote on a recommendation to the supervisors, and then we’d vote.”

“You’re on the Planning Commission, aren’t you?”

“I am. But we’ll need to know what you want to do.”

“Just give me the forms.”

“Patsy has them down at the courthouse.”

Roland remained planted in the doorway. “What about the road? Would it make a difference if it gets built?”

“The road? Well, it might, and I’m almost afraid to say anything for fear of it coming back around at me. But my guess is that if the road does get built, and the factory has a big highway out to the interstate, then the zoning would be a completely different kettle of fish. And without the road, the chances of a zoning change would be a kettle with no fish.”

“Mr. Esterhouse? Dr. Colony can see you, back in his office.”

Thirty-minute wait. “Thank you.”

Joe followed the woman down the hall, and Everett Colony was sitting at his desk.

“Sit down,” Everett said. “You have a question?”

“I do.” Joe sat in a padded chair. “About Wade Harris.”

“That’s what I thought.” At least the man wasn’t having a fit yet. “He died of massive trauma due to an automobile accident.”

“Could he have been shot first?”

Colony set his jaw, like he’d bite through a fence post. “Sure he could have. He might have been poisoned, too, and clubbed on the head and stabbed. I’m not going to look for all those things when he’s in a car that’s wrapped around a tree.”

“What if you’d known someone had been wanting him dead?”

“I’d have expected Gordon Hite to tell me.”

“I’ll tell you a few things, then.”

“What Roger Gallaudet’s told you? That’s the real problem. It’s what he’s telling everyone. It amounts to slander.”

“I went to Roger first, and not the other way.”

“I know what he’s been saying. He’s wrong.”

“I don’t think he’s been talking to people like you claim he has anyway.”

“When people start asking questions about Wade Harris being shot, I’ll have to assume Roger’s been pushing them. Not that Harris didn’t have it coming, the way he made enemies around here.

“Last February, Roger Gallaudet came to my house to talk about the new road. He wants it and tried his hardest to convince me to side with him.”

“He was arguing for it?”

“More than arguing. Roger threatened me.”

“How?”

“It wasn’t outright.” Dr. Colony pointed his finger. “But I could tell. He said if I fought that road, there’d be people fighting me. And after he left, I realized it was a threat.”

“What was he threatening?”

“I didn’t know then, but I took measures to protect myself. And now I’ve found out what he meant. He’s slandering me and trying to ruin my reputation. He’s telling people I covered up a murder.”

“It might be a murder anyway.”

Colony frowned. Then he was real angry. “What are you saying, Ester-house? You’re accusing me of killing those two, and over this road?”

“It had crossed my mind.”

“That will be worth a lawsuit.”

“Don’t waste your time, Dr. Colony. I’d tell you straight out if I really thought it. But if they had been killed, it was your job to realize it when you looked at them. Now, did you give either of them the time you should have?”

“It’s just a road! No one’s going to kill a man over a road.”

“You’ve been making threats yourself.”

“Not to kill anyone! I’ll get a lawyer! This is going too far.”

“Do what you have to,” Joe said, “but I want an answer.”

Colony took his time. “All right. I understand. But you still haven’t given me any reason why someone would want to kill either Wade Harris or Mort Walker. Besides Gold River Highway.”

“That’s enough of a reason.”

“It isn’t.”

“It is. With this road, it is. There’s people behind it and money enough involved. I’ll ask you again. Could Mort Walker have been killed by the blow to his head? Could Wade Harris have been killed by a gun?”

He was still thinking his answers through.