Ashes and Bone (26 page)

“What’s that?” Jaymee pointed to a link from the Roselea
Ledger
. “1974. Roselea Ten Years after the Emery Lewis Disappearance.”

Dani clicked on the link and scanned the article. “Just a lot of reflection by the reporter on the impact of his vanishing. Lewis’s attitude about the cartridge box was like throwing a match in a puddle of gas. People remember the kid as pushy, refused to interact with him, but a lot of them felt bad when he was presumed dead. And worse ten years later. They’re still racists, but it’s easier to lament a white kid’s life. And the attitude seems to be he was killed for the box and not over civil rights.”

“Oh bullshit,” Jaymee said. “Whoever did it was looking for a reason.”

“This is an opinion piece,” Dani said. “By Matt Hastings.

‘In only ten years, the beliefs of the area have changed and yet stayed the same. The summer of 1964 seems a distant memory for most, but for those who stood in stark opposition to the black vote, the success of the movement still stings. And the disappearance of Emery Lewis shines like a beacon in our history. An example of hate’s ability to thread itself into the veins of even the simplest men. Emery Lewis was a stranger to us, a foreign object dropped from the sky to parade our vulgarities to his Northern friends without any thought to how our beliefs and ways are the product of generation after generation. Change is never easy, nor is acceptance of wrongs. I wish I could have discussed this with Emery Lewis one more time before he disappeared.’
”

Jaymee grabbed Dani’s phone. “Hastings had to know Lewis. And if Roselea in the 60s was anything like it is now, he had an opinion of who killed him.” She blew out a hard breath. “He’s in the phone book.”

“You think we should go see him? Why don’t we call Cage?”

“First, I know Nick. He’d have found this out just like us. Solving a murder is the kind of thing he lives for. It’s juicy and raw and not about something as predictable as money. It’s human interest. He jumped on this. Secondly, Cage is really busy right now. This might lead us nowhere. Better for us to check it out first.”

“I suppose it can’t hurt.” Dani quickly printed off the articles. “But the man’s got to be in his seventies. He might not like us just rolling up on him.”

“Too bad.”

Outside, a gray
afternoon dropped across the landscape. Dani shivered and zipped up her vest. She trailed behind a reenergized Jaymee. Dani wasn’t sure talking to Matt Hastings was worth their time. The man could be in poor health, have dementia. With their luck, the listing was old, and he’d already passed away. Still, looking him up was better than Jaymee just sitting around stewing in her own worries.

They headed west out of town, passing the grocery store. Jeb Riley knelt in the parking lot, picking up scattered cans of food. “He stopped to check on us,” Dani said. “Least we could do is help him.”

She reached him before Jaymee. Jeb started and then smiled. “Well, Miss Dani, thank you very much. Damn bags busted.”

“No problem.” She handed him a can of unsalted peas. “How’s Grace?”

“Numb, I think.” He stood up, items in hand, gratefully taking the loaf of bread Jaymee offered. “The maid, Charlotte, doesn’t want to leave her, so I said I’d pick up some groceries.”

“That’s nice of you,” Jaymee said. “Please tell her I’m very sorry about Ben.”

Shadows crossed Jeb’s aging face. “I will. And your Nick? Any word?”

“Not really. We’re heading out to talk to someone who might have information, but it’s a long shot.”

“Sometimes those work out.” Jeb sighed. “I don’t know what’s happening ’round this town these days. Everyone’s going to shit.”

They followed him back to his car, Jeb thanking them as he tossed the stuff into the backseat. “I best get on to Grace’s. I know you girls are all alone at Ironwood. You need anything, head over to Oak Lynn or give me a call. Looks like the bad guys are in jail right now, but a man like Booth will make bail.”

“We will,” Dani promised. They headed back to their car, waving at Jeb as they hit the road. “You know where this Matt Hastings lives?”

“Phone book said his address was on County Line Road. That’s pretty wild country out there. Not far from the swamps. Moonshine land.”

“Awesome.”

M
att Hastings lived
in a fifties-era ramshackle ranch house with an overgrown front yard. Tucked away at the end of a dirt road, the house was off the main road, and the scenery sent chills across Dani’s already jittery nerves. A sign on the front door warned visitors oxygen was in use.
Excellent. We’re about to badger an old man in poor health.

“Do you have any idea what you’re going to say?”

“Nope.”

“Sounds about right.”

A yellowed path cut through the scraggly yard. Sadly poetic that a man capable of writing such eloquent words lived in a place like this. He’d written for the paper until he retired ten years ago, but Dani supposed that didn’t pay much. A beat-up Toyota Camry sat beneath a sagging carport. Small pawprints in the layer of dust on the car’s bumper and the bird’s nest on the driver’s side mirror told her Matt didn’t get out much.

“I hope he doesn’t stick a shotgun in our faces.” Dani forced herself to follow Jaymee up the cracked concrete steps. “I keep picturing an old man with skinny legs in boxers that are too big and a stained, white undershirt. Stiff white chest hairs trying to crawl out of his skin. More hair than he has teeth.”

“Oh my God, shut up.” Jaymee knocked on the door, fake smile in place. Her tense stance made it clear she was ready to run.

The man who answered the door was nothing like what Dani’s imagination had conjured up. Tall and skeletal, his plain clothes hung off him. Eyes sunken in his head, his chest so thin his collarbone jutted out. He regarded them with a curious smile. An oxygen tube clung to his nose. His breath sounded strained.

“Help you?” Weak voice, but still dignified.

“I hope so,” Jaymee said. “Are you Matt Hastings?”

“I am. And you two are?”

Jaymee quickly introduced them, words coming fast. “I’m Nick Samuels’s girlfriend. And he’s gone missing.”

Dani’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected Jaymee to jump right in. Matt’s thin face pinched, and he swayed. “The reporter?”

“Yes. Did he come to see you about Emery Lewis?” Jaymee held up the copies they’d brought from the library.

“He did. Two weeks ago.”

Jaymee stilled, and Dani bit her lip. Nick hadn’t told them he was here two weeks ago.

“You say he’s missing?” Matt leaned against the door, breathing heavy.

“Are you all right?” Dani asked.

“As much as I can be,” he said. “Lung cancer. Eating away at me. Come on inside, and I’ll tell you the same story I told Samuels.”

Matt Hastings clearly
lived alone. The interior of his house was in worse condition than the outside, but it was relatively clean. Sparse furniture, few personal items. The smell of permanent illness coated the air.

“First off,” Matt said, easing into a threadbare recliner and motioning for them to take a seat on an equally sad-looking couch, “you ladies have to understand what it was like back in those days. Different time. My parent’s generation—and mine too—was brought up to believe blacks and whites didn’t have the same rights. To even consider that they did just wasn’t morally right. Slavery wasn’t either, but to a lot of people back then, neither was equality.”

“How did you feel about it?” Dani asked.

Matt coughed. “I thought it needed to end. Blacks I knew worked hard for a lot less money, and they were good people. As I got older, and especially after I went to college—a little piss-ass community college, but still—I realized they deserved a chance. And that whether or not white folks liked it, change was coming. Figured might as well accept it instead of fight. Life’s easier that way.”

“What about Emery Lewis?” Jaymee’s question was business-like. Dani knew she was reaching the end of her emotional rope. If they didn’t get a real break soon, Jaymee was going to lose it.

“He was a bleeding heart lib, as they say nowadays. Which was all right. Maybe that’s what folks needed. But he wasn’t very tolerant. Always found that ironic.” Matt’s wry smile made his face appear even gaunter.

“He expected to come down here and educate us on desegregation, and that would be that. Bit of a fool, actually. He’d been involved in enough of the movement to know things wouldn’t happen so easily.”

“The article you ran ten years after he disappeared said he made a lot of enemies,” Dani said. “Because of his beliefs?”

“Because of his attitude. Like a bulldozer, that kid was. No sitting around talking to the white folks. No finessing, listening to their side. Even if it was the wrong side, they wanted to be heard. And Lewis wasn’t interested.”

“And then he found the cartridge box.”

Matt’s eyes, already dimmed with cataracts, clouded over. “That sent some people over the edge. See, back in them days, the old folks could still remember their war heroes. Lots of ’em had granddads who fought and died for the Confederacy. And the Adams County Historical society was real green then, needing items. Folks felt it weren’t right for a Yankee—”

He looked apologetically at Dani, but she shook her head. “Wasn’t right for a Yankee to have something like that, especially one who’d showed no interest in any of our history.”

“Did he get into any fights about it?”

“Physically? Don’t know. Yelling matches for sure.”

“I understand why people would be upset,” Dani said. “But do you really think someone would attack Lewis over the box?”

“Maybe. Maybe was a fight gone bad.” Matt adjusted his whispering oxygen cord. “But there’s more to the story, and most of it got swept right under the money rug. See, Lewis was a ladies man. Or thought he was. And rumor was he’d pissed off a local guy by taking out his ex-girlfriend. She was staying the summer with her guy’s family, and the two of them had a big fight. Broke up for a time. And then Lewis comes in with all his ideas and good looks.”

“Do you remember the man’s name? Or the girlfriend’s?”

“No, I don’t.” Matt coughed and then turned up his oxygen. Dani noticed his feeble hands shook in a way they hadn’t a few minutes ago.
Of course, they were wearing him out. Did he have anyone to help him? Or did he live here alone, dying? The worst thing in this life would be to die alone.

“Excuse me. Lung cancer ain’t the way to go, so if you ladies are smokers, quit now.”

“How long do you have?” Dani asked.

“Few months,” Matt said. “Hospice is hounding me. Wife’s gone. I’ve got a nurse from the old folks’ place who swings in and checks up on me. I suppose I’ll have my own bed there soon enough.”

“I’m sorry for your cancer,” Jaymee said. “I’m being rude, but I’m desperate to find Nick. We think he’d figured out who killed Emery Lewis, and that person knew he was on his way to town. They intercepted him. You’re sure you don’t remember any names?”

Matt’s bony chest heaved up and then down. Slowly, each breath a wheezing hiss that chilled Dani. Finally, he shook his head. She wasn’t sure if his eyes were simply watering or a tear brewed, but she’d spotted moisture. He licked his quivering lips. A fresh round of cool unease struck Dani.
He’s not telling us everything.
She glanced at Jaymee, and her friend’s narrowed eyes and set jaw meant she was thinking the same thing.

Dani retrieved the axe handle out of the shopping bag she’d brought. She’d had the sense to wrap it in plastic, but the mud-stained wood and signature were still visible. “Do you remember Lewis having this?”

Another long, hard breath. Bone-like hands gripping the chair, Matt pulled himself forward. “Where’d you find that?”

“In a cave behind my property,” Dani said. “It’s signed by Lester Maddux. Story goes—”

“Lewis had it. Never let anyone see it, so we figured he was bullshitting about being in Georgia. Thought it got buried with him.”

“You told Nick all of this, right?” Jaymee said.

“Everything I could.”

“Did he give any indication he’d figured it out?” Dani tucked the handle away.

“I think he believed he was onto something. I wished him good luck. I’d like to see the case solved before I die. Always felt guilty about Lewis.”

“Why?”

Matt leaned back into his chair. His skin was gray, and he looked ready to pass out at any moment. “There’s one thing I told your reporter I haven’t mentioned. The jilted boyfriend—story went that he and his cousin planned to have a talk with Lewis. Heard that just a couple of days before he disappeared.”

“You sure you can’t remember their names?” Jaymee asked.

Matt shook his head, gaze on the wall.

They thanked him for his time. Dani resisted the urge to make sure he was comfortably in bed with something to drink before they left, but Jaymee’s hard tug on her arm left little room to stay. She dragged Dani back to the truck. “He’s not telling us everything. He remembers who the couple was.”

“That’s not the worst of it,” Dani said. “He said buried. I didn’t say the axe was buried. And he says he felt guilty.”

“You think he’s trying to absolve himself of his sins without ruining anyone else’s lives?”

“I don’t know. But he didn’t take Nick. That we can be sure of.”

“We need to find out who those people were,” Jaymee said as Dani pulled back onto the highway. “And there’s one person in town who’ll know for sure.”

Dani immediately caught her meaning. “We can’t bother Grace. She’s mourning her son.”

“I know it’s an asshole thing to do. But Nick is missing, and if Ben’s murder is tied to this, she’d want to help.”

D
ani felt like
a giant horse’s ass following Charlotte to Grace’s private quarters. The pall in Oak Lynn was nearly unbearable, settling into her chest as soon as she walked in the front door. The usually gleaming family antiques looked dull and tired. It was almost as if the house itself, laden with the energy of Ben’s ancestors, was in mourning.