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Authors: Gerald W. Darnell

The Crossing (17 page)

BOOK: The Crossing
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~

I
was walking across the parking lot shaking my head, when one of Leroy’s cars pulled into the lot with lights and siren running.
 
Scotty was driving and he yelled at me out the window.

“Carson,” he said excitedly. “I need you to follow me, we’ve got an emergency.”

“What is it?” I yelled running toward the Ford.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Scotty didn’t answer, but immediately pulled back onto the highway with his lights and siren still on.
 
His cruiser cleared the way and I remained as close to his rear bumper as I could.
 
When he made the turn at Bailey Park and then again at St. Mary’s Hospital, I knew there must be a real problem.

Scotty stopped at the Emergency Entrance on the West Side of the building and I parked the Ford in a restricted area and jumped out.

“Damn it, Scotty,” I yelled. “What is it?”

“Joe has been shot,” he said with blank face. “Leroy’s in the ER, go inside and talk with him.
 
I’ve got to get back to the office.”
 
Scotty turned the cruiser around and quickly left the parking lot; this time without the lights and siren.

Leroy was standing just inside the emergency room door and talking with Dr. Barker when I ran in.

“Carson,” Dr. Barker turned to me and spoke before I could. “Joe is in surgery and then will be in ICU for a few hours after that.
 
Let Leroy give you the details, but from a medical standpoint, Joe is a lucky guy; he is going to be okay.
 
Dr. Davis is taking care of him now and he’ll be down to give you a full report when they get out of surgery.”

I sat down in the closest chair and didn’t speak.
 
My shock was obvious and overwhelming.

“Carson,” Dr. Barker said putting his hand on my shoulder. “He is going to be alright, trust me.
 
Frankly, his injuries from the automobile accident are more serious than the bullet wounds.”

“Automobile accident!” I exclaimed.

“Leroy will give you the details, but like I have said twice, he will be alright.
 
Dr. Davis will be down later, just wait and talk with him.
 
I’ve got to go back downstairs, so if you need me, I’ll be in my office.”
 
Dr. Barker walked away, entering the stairway that led down to the morgue and his office.

Leroy sat down beside me. “You okay?” he asked.

“Hell no, I’m not okay,” I answered rubbing my face. “What happened?
 
Have you talked with Joe?”

“I haven’t but Deputy Jeff Cole did, he was the one who responded to the call and spoke with Joe at the scene.
 
Apparently, a white truck with three young white men followed him when he left Chiefs.
 
They rammed his car and then shot him and the car with several rounds of buckshot.
 
He lost control and turned over in a ditch near the Faye Barr Curve, just past the VFW.
 
The ambulance had already taken Joe to the hospital when I got there, but I can tell you that his car was shot up pretty good.
 
I called Graves Brothers to come tow the vehicle and Donnie Graves is out there now.
 
You want to go see the car?”

“No,” I answered quickly. “I can see the car later.
 
Did Joe know who the guys were in the truck?”

“He told Jack he didn’t recognize the shooter or the ones in the cab of the truck,” Leroy answered.

“What does that mean, ‘in the cab of the truck’?” I frowned.

“The shooter was in the bed of the truck, so that means this wasn’t random or a spur of the moment thing.
 
These guys planned it, you can bet on it,” Leroy said with confidence.

“Leroy, I screwed up,” I sighed.

“What do you mean?” Leroy asked cocking his head.

“Joe and I paid a visit to the
‘Rebel Bar’
earlier today and talked with Sonny Blurton,” I confessed.

“Shit, Carson, why do you do these things?” Leroy yelled. “It’s a wonder they didn’t just shoot you there!”

“Please, Leroy.
 
I’m upset enough without a scolding from you!
 
But I thought I took all the right precautions, and I didn’t see anyone following us when we left,” I argued.

“Wake up, Carson,” Leroy said shaking his head. “This is a small town; they didn’t need to follow you to know where you were going.
 
They know you and know you and Joe are trying to help Henry, so I’m not surprised.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, you can be assured that they won’t have the advantage next time, I promise you that!
 
And if Joe survives this, I’m sending him back to Memphis.
 
He is my responsibility and I’ve let him down.”

“Carson, Dr. Barker admitted Joe before Dr. Davis took over.
 
As he told you, Joe is going to be fine.
 
The car is shot up pretty good because it took the brunt of the shotgun blasts – that’s good.
 
Joe has a few wounds on his shoulder and upper neck, nothing serious but they do need to remove the pellets.
 
According to Dr. Barker, his biggest problem is going to be a broken arm and maybe a few fingers, but nothing more serious than that,” Leroy said comforting me.

“Well, Leroy,” I was staring at him. “You better put those bastards that were in that white truck ‘under’ your jail.
 
Because, if I find them first, a broken arm and a few shotgun pellets will be something they would wish for!
 
I’ll kill them!”

“Carson,” Leroy said quietly. “Tomorrow you will calm down and feel better.
 
Go to Chiefs, have a drink and one of Ronnie’s steaks.
 
You won’t be able to see Joe before tomorrow, so relax and I’ll see you tomorrow when we can talk with him.”

Leroy was right.
 
I needed to calm down and be rational.
 
Cooler heads make better decisions, and busy hands stay out of trouble.

But I still intended to kill the bastards!

“You’re right, as usual,” I said to Leroy. “I’ll take your advice, but I need to talk with the coroner, Dr. Barker, so I might as well do that while I am here.
 
Come on, I’ll walk you out to your cruiser.”

As I walked Leroy out the ER door and into the parking lot, he put his arm around my shoulder.
 
I knew he was as upset as I was; I appreciated his comfort.

We agreed to meet here in the morning and talk with Joe.
 
When I turned to walk back into the hospital, I glanced up at the sign hanging near the emergency entrance.
 
This is what it was all about!
 
I just wondered why nobody understood!

I wasn’t in the mood for stairs, so I took the elevator to the basement and found Dr. Barker in his office.

“Carson,” he said when I walked in. “Everything okay with Joe?”

“Yes, as far as I know.
 
You were on my list to talk with, so I might as well do that while I am here.
 
You got time?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he affirmed. “I think I know what you want to talk about.
 
Come over here and let me show you something.”

Dr. Barker walked over to the row of stainless steel doors and opened door M-12.
 
Then he slid out the tray and pulled back the sheet.

Here was the body of Tammy Whitmore Blurton, and she certainly looked much different from the photograph Nora Whitmore had given me earlier.

 

“Carson, let me tell you what I think,” Dr. Barker started, as he pointed at the back of her head and her throat. “The actual cause of death was strangulation, but I think that was an afterthought, and let me tell you why.
 
She received a lethal blow to the back of the skull, much like one received by falling and hitting the head on a hard object, or one received by a blow from some type of a weapon – blunt force trauma, it is called.
 
After looking at the wound, I suspect a fall against a sharp table edge or something that would have cracked the skull, but not produced external bleeding.
 
However, this injury would not have caused immediate death, only serious trauma, which without immediate treatment would have eventually resulted in her death.
 
It appears that she was strangled with her underwear until she finally died.
 
I guess the killer wasn’t prepared to watch or prepared to wait for the head injury to do its job.”

“And the stab wound?” I asked.

“That part makes no sense.
 
She had been dead for several hours before somebody stuck the knife into her.
 
The stabbing could only have been to confuse the investigation because it had absolutely nothing to do with her death.” Dr. Barker answered.

“Any prints on the knife?”

“Not my area,” he answered while returning the tray and closing the door to M-12, “but Leroy’s people said there were no prints.”

“Interesting,” I said to myself.

“Yes, interesting but also strange.
 
The knife belonged to Henry, so finding his fingerprints would not have been usual.
 
Finding NO prints means that someone wiped them off.
 
Why use your own knife and then be concerned about prints?” he asked.

“Good point!
 
Was she molested?” I asked.

“That is a bit more difficult to answer, but I don’t think so.
 
She had definitely had sex in the hours before her death, but I believe it was consensual,” he said rubbing his chin.

“Why? How could you know?” I asked.

“Experience.
 
I didn’t find any of the typical signs of a sexual molestation, and those include external defensive wounds and the typical internal
abrasions that appear with these kinds of assaults.
 
Just my professional opinion,” he offered.

“And I respect that opinion,” I nodded. “Anything from the semen?
 
Blood type, maybe?”

“Unfortunately, no.
 
Too much time had elapsed and I don’t have all the sophisticated equipment that some other labs have.
 
I’m sorry, I just can’t tell you much more,” he said honestly.

“Was any jewelry or other clothing recovered from the site where the body was discovered?
 
Other than Henry’s shirt and her underwear, was there anything else found?” I asked.

“None that I have seen, so I would suspect no.
 
She was not wearing jewelry and only had the shirt and underwear when they brought her here.”

“Thanks Doc,” I said leaving. “You have been a big help, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow when I come to see Joe.”

~

I
was still angry and upset and needed some change of scenery.
 
I stopped by Pullums to pick up some Bar-B-Q and then went to see Mom and Dad.

As I expected, Dad had already eaten so we just shared a beer and talked about the current conflicts going on in Humboldt.
 
Mother caught me up on all the gossip, and I managed to spend a couple of hours letting my thoughts and mind get back to where they needed to be.

I drove back to Chiefs and avoided the usual Friday night party – I wasn’t in the mood.
 
I parked in front of my cabin and called it a day, tomorrow would be busy.
 
I guess Liz was wrong!

~

S
omeone pounding on the door to my cabin startled me awake.
 
I would have sworn it was midnight, but a glance at my watch showed it was 8:45 AM.
 
Regardless, I still considered this bedtime and I wouldn’t be nice to whoever was delivering this early wake-up call.
 

Choosing to not get dressed, I went to the door wearing just my underwear – maybe I could embarrass them and they would go away!
 
Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I jerked open the door ready to admonish my early visitor.
 
Instead, I just stared in disbelief.
 
It was Joe and he was grinning from ear to ear!

BOOK: The Crossing
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ads

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