Fancy Gap (2 page)
He would never be free. The hell of lives past taken would forever haunt him.
He was all powerful.
Tonight would be his
, he thought.
This was the dream of his life. This was the dream of their lives. Quinn and Ellen McSpain, husband and wife for more than forty years, were about to cross a large item off their bucket list. After a ten-year search, they had finally found the acre of their dreams, and what an acre it was. It had not been easy to find as they traveled up to the Blue Ridge Parkway from Winston-Salem weekend after weekend.
They were two children joined by love who had left home so long ago and lived in Boston, D.C., Minneapolis, Green Bay, and finally Winston-Salem. This gorgeous part of North Carolina suited them just fine at this moment in their lives. It was time to set their roots in the Piedmont. They soon discovered the glorious Blue Ridge Mountains, a fifty-five minute drive north through Mount Airy on Highway 52 into the mountains of southwest Virginia.
Their path in life spanned many wonderful years together. They started with nothing but the deep love that held them together. She was the girl who lived around the corner and who let him kiss her when they were all of six years old. They were childhood friends who saw that early friendship blossom into a wonderful life full of love.
They survived and thrived from the bumps and bruises of married life as they chased the corporate dream. They worked hard to give their children every opportunity in life and succeeded well beyond their expectations.
She cooked. He cleaned. They both worked and worked hard, day after day. She was the master chef who created meals to die for. She loved to work her magic over the stove and spoil them with scrumptious gourmet creations. The kids and Quinn wallowed in pure gastronomic delight!
Sampling all of that culinary art required a plan to keep his midsection in check. He loved to run and ride his road bike. She supported him through many marathons from coast to coast. She was always there to inspire and motivate him. She was his biggest fan. Through it all he managed to keep his six-foot frame in fairly good condition.
As the years passed, the fruits of their mutual labor finally came together. The weekend hideaway was now within reach. A call from a friend alerted them to this place perched on a cliff that could be theirs. They knew at first glance that it would become their home. In that November of their dreams—it did. They pinched themselves with joy when it came to pass. Their dream was now a new wonderful reality. They had discovered Fancy Gap.
Their first year on the top of that mountain cliff was simply magical. Its southern exposure gave them the best of all worlds. Cool winds blew out of the west, and warm sunshine melted the winter snows. They loved hiking up and over the mountains, biking along the New River Trail, and sitting by the fire pit, roasting marshmallows and stargazing night after glorious night. It was all more than they could have ever imagined. The kids and grandkids loved it too.
Quinn was at a point in his career when constant travel around the world took him away from Ellen and their new-found acre under the stars. His challenges as the head of all U.S. corporate security services for a global juggernaut were immense. Threats from terrorists and internal risks from corporate criminals were just a few of his responsibilities.
It was time to cut back. He was satisfied with his professional station in life. He had seen and done it all. Ellen was about to end her very successful career in medicine. She had provided warmth and solace to so many. They were both ready for the next chapter and verse. They loved the prospect of a new life together on their own terms. The timing was perfect.
They now had a lovely townhouse in Winston-Salem, their pied-à-terre for their city living and this wonderful chateau in the high mountain country of southwest Virginia for moments of peaceful reflection with each other and their wonderful family and friends. They had won this lottery of life earned by years of love, respect, and hard work. This surely would never end.
One morning he gave Ellen a peck on the lips as she left the townhouse for work. He was on his way to his office when his BlackBerry began to wiggle. He glanced down and saw that his best friend, Sheriff Bailey Sykes, was calling. Bailey was a retired federal agent who had worked for him as an investigative consultant before the Forsyth County Republican Party convinced him to run for county sheriff several years earlier.
“ To what do I owe the pleasure of a call from the high sheriff of Forsyth County so early in the morning?” he asked.
“Quinn, where are you?” his friend asked urgently.
“Well, Sheriff, I’m about ten minutes away from my office.”
“Turn around and meet me at the emergency room at Forsyth Hospital,” he said quickly.
“Jesus, Bailey, what happened?” Fear swelled in his heart.
“Quinn, there’s been a bad accident. Ellen got hit on the way to work. Get to the hospital right away!”
Ten minutes later, he found Bailey waiting for him in the emergency room.
“She’s in surgery, Quinn,” he said as they hugged.
“My God! What happened, Bailey?”
“She was hit broadside by a semi that ran a red light. She’s lost a lot of blood, Quinn. She’s been in the operating room for over an hour.”
Bailey started to cry. Quinn started to cry. They sat in the waiting room for more than two hours as the children arrived. They hugged and consoled each other as best they could. They all cried and cried. Few words were spoken. Bailey put his arm around Quinn’s shoulder. He and his wife, Jan, had known Ellen and Quinn for more than ten years. They were best friends.
The operating room door swung open, and the doctor came out. Quinn looked into his eyes and knew that they would cry some more.
The next month was a blur. Anthony and Natalie, their children, suffered the most. Ellen was their rock. They got through day after day of grief and sorrow. Family and friends shared their love for Ellen and their memories of her time on earth with them.
For the first time Quinn felt a deep hole in his life that left him empty and alone. Their bed was now his bed. Its emptiness grew with each lonely night. He spent more time with his children and their children. His grief hung on with a passion of its own. It was out of control.
It didn’t take long for his next decision. He gathered his team at work and announced that he would take the next step of his life. They weren’t surprised. The next bend in his road of life had arrived. He just didn’t know where it would take him. He had lost the rudder of his life’s journey.
He was alone.
Tim knew his family’s bad dream had become their reality. The fog began to lift a bit as the chaos in front of them seemed to only get worse. Police officers and paramedics swarmed all over the crash scene, caring for those crying out in the rubble. A scene as macabre as could ever be imagined was playing out in front of them, shrouded in the fog. The smoke and smell of vehicles on fire was thick in the air. Rescue helicopters began to hover until the fog closed all opportunity.
He still couldn’t compute that he and his family had been spared. They were lucky to be alive. It seemed like they had been huddled together for hours, but it had been only twenty minutes. The sky was getting darker by the minute.
Susan finally pulled free and headed slowly down to their car. In the carnage that resembled a junkyard, she couldn’t believe her eyes. Their Prius looked relatively unscathed. A bad gash on the side seemed to be the only damage.
Suddenly a police officer came running toward her. He was covered with blood. “Are you OK?” the officer yelled as he stared at her.
“Yes, my God, we are! At least I think we are,” she answered.
“There are so many who are injured and so many who are…” He paused and looked at Susan with grief in his eyes. “Is that your car? It looks like it’s in pretty good shape.”
“I think it is,” she replied in a quivering voice.
Tim walked toward Susan with the children in tow, tightly holding his hands. The officer extended his hand and introduced himself. “My name is Sergeant Leroy Jefferson. I’m with the Carroll County Sheriff ’s Department.” Sergeant Jefferson looked at them for a brief moment. “You’re the lucky ones. Since your car isn’t damaged and y’all are OK, I suggest that you drive off the highway onto the state road.”
“Where can we get a room?” Susan asked.
“You should take the Fancy Gap exit, which is just a half mile from here. The hotels in Hillsville are full. The old motel in Fancy Gap might have a room. You can also get some food at the restaurant there. Here’s my card with my cell number. Call me tomorrow if you have any questions.” He paused and then said, “You’re the lucky ones. You’re blessed,” as he moved on down the hill.
They looked at each other with blank stares as they sat in the car. Tim looked at Susan, “I think we might be able to drive some more tonight.”
She looked at him in disbelief.
This is crazy
, she thought.
“Are you kidding me? The kids are scared to death, not to mention exhausted and hungry. I’m scared to death. We’re not going anywhere except that motel off the next exit!” she shouted.
Susan and both children started to cry as Tim drove down the side of the road.
He could barely see. Night had fallen and the fog was settling back in. He finally found Highway 52. The sign said one mile to Fancy Gap.
They crept along the road in pea-soup fog. Tim squinted as he tried to see the road ahead. They both saw the gas station sign on the right side of the road. Tim pulled in and parked in front of the entrance. “I’ll go inside and get directions to the motel,” he said.
Susan nodded her head. She noticed the restaurant beside the gas station. She could see people inside.
Tim came out of the station and climbed back into the car. “The motel is across the street. The clerk called, and there’s a room for us.”
Susan looked at him and opened her car door. “We’re going into that restaurant to get some food. Come over after you get our room.”
Tim watched his family walk away.
He could barely see the highway as he crossed over to the motel. A dimly lit sign—practically invisible in the fog—pointed to the office off to the left. The place reminded him of a 1950’s’ mom-and-pop motel that had fallen on hard times. Paint was peeling from the outside walls, and the bottom brick façade was covered with weeds and moss. A dim light lit the office.
Was this the Bates motel?
he thought.
He stood at the desk for a minute before he called out, “Anybody here?” He waited for another couple of minutes before he heard footsteps coming down the interior hallway. He turned and saw an older woman approaching.
She looked Tim over and asked, “Can I help you, young fella?”
“You certainly can. I believe the man at the gas station called for us about a room.”
“Oh, you mean Sammy across the street. Yep, he sure ’nough did just call. He said a family of four needed a room. Bet you folks got all caught up in the fog. Hope you weren’t part of that bad wreck.”
Tim frowned. “We were and we weren’t. We drove into it but missed all the wrecks. It was just a mess!”
“Young man, you and your family are real lucky! Most folks who drive into that damn fog crash and get hurt real bad or die. They drive too fast and ignore the highway signs that tell them to slow down. Probably stupid Yankees from up North who think they’re so smart. Some of ’em end up coming here when they need a room. Are you a Democrat?” she blurted.
Tim ignored this last part and said, “All we need is a room for tonight. How much is it?”
She furrowed her right eyebrow. “It’s two hundred dollars a night if you’re a Democrat. It’s seventy-five dollars if you’re a Republican.”
Tim gave her a hollow smile and said, “I’ll take the Republican rate.”
She smiled as she passed the key to him. “You’re in room number nine. It’s at the end of the line. It’s got two beds, a TV and the hot water works…most of the time. Make sure you check out by eleven tomorrow!”
Tim walked out of the office and across the yard to room number nine. The rusty lock reluctantly gave way as the door swung open. The musty smell almost knocked him over. He groped around and finally found the light switch. When the light flickered on, Tim was taken aback. The room was simple at best, with only two beds, a small television and a chair plus an extra small bathroom.
Tim carefully crossed the highway toward the restaurant. By now the place was relatively deserted. Susan and the kids waved at him.
Well,
he thought,
they must be feeling better.
“So how’s the cuisine?” he asked as he sat down.
“Well, sugar, its basic Southern, greasy, fried cooking, but it’s the best the children and I have had in a long time.”
A short, plump bleached blond wearing a tight tank top and a faded miniskirt sauntered to their table.
“Well, here’s the man of the hour,” she said, looking at Tim. “Bout tried to kill your family and then didn’t want to feed the poor dears. What in Jesus’ name were you thinking, Dad?”
Tim noticed a large ketchup stain over her left nipple. As he looked up from her nipple to her face, her mouth opened in a smile, revealing her only tooth. Susan kicked him under the table. It took all of his self-control not to break out laughing. She handed him a menu and kept her hand on it.
“You won’t have no use of that menu. It’s a gettin’ late and the kitchen is about to close. I suggest the chicken livers, or the cook can fry you up some eggs.”
Tim was processing the thought of chicken livers when he felt his stomach take a hard turn. “I’ll go with the eggs. Scrambled would be great.”
She winked at him and walked back to the kitchen. As soon as his eyes met Susan’s, they both burst out laughing. The children looked at them and did the same. The few patrons in the restaurant stopped eating to look at them.
“So how are the accommodations?” Susan asked.
“Well, we’ve stayed in better rooms, but for tonight it’ll be just fine. We’ll just rough it for one night.” Susan didn’t say a word.