The Crossing (21 page)

“Well, let’s get you out of here first before we make plans on coming back,” Jack said seriously. “What did you want to see Carson and me about?”

“Yarnell was seeing that girl,” Henry said without emotion.

“What girl?” I asked.

“That dead girl, that dead white girl,” he said again without emotion.

“How do you know?” Jack asked anxiously.

“Shit man, come on!
 
He’s my brother, plus we live together, you know. He’s been seeing her since they worked together over at Alton Box.
 
I tried to tell him it was no good, but Yarnell is hardheaded and he just wouldn’t listen, you know.”

“Henry,” I said looking him in the eye. “Yarnell is missing.”

“Oh no,” Henry said putting his face down in his hands and shaking his head. “He’s dead. You know that, don’t you?”

“No, damn it, I don’t know he is dead,” I said with some assurance. “He’s just missing and probably just off drunk somewhere.
 
They fired him at the Red Heart Dog Food Plant, so he’s just feeling sorry for himself.”

“He’s dead,” Henry repeated.

Jack and I didn’t respond, and we sat watching my friend Henry unravel and start to cry.

“Have you told Colleen?” Henry finally asked.

“No, but I’m going to talk with her this morning,” I answered.

“Go away,” Henry sobbed. “Please, just go away.
 
I don’t want to talk anymore.”

Jack and I left and went back downstairs.

“What are your plans?” I asked Jack as we got some coffee.

“I’ve got a ton of legal shit to put together for his hearing tomorrow.
 
What are your plans?”

“I’m going to talk with Colleen and hope Yarnell is safe somewhere.
 
Right now, I don’t know what else to do.” I was frustrated.

We finished our coffee, and I ran back through the rain to the Ford; the rain wasn’t getting any lighter.
 
As I headed down Main Street, I saw Colleen’s ‘54 Ford parked in front of the Merchants State Bank.
 
This was Sunday, so I knew something was wrong.

I parked beside her, seemingly unnoticed, and quickly darted through the rain, opened the passenger side door and got in Colleen’s car.
 
She had her head down on the steering wheel and was sobbing, uncontrollably.
 
 
She turned and grabbed my hand; then the tears got worse.
 
I didn’t speak and just let her cry until she was ready to talk – it took almost ten minutes.

Finally, she sat up and used a handkerchief to wipe away the stream of tears she still had running down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry, Carson,” she finally said. “I just can’t handle this.
 
Yarnell is missing and I was going to tell Henry, but I just couldn’t do it.
 
I’m sorry.”

“I’ve already told him,” I said while still holding her hand. “You don’t need to do that.”

“What did he say?” she looked up and said.

“He’s just concerned, like we all are, but how did you know he was missing?
 
Who told you?” I didn’t understand.

“A Humboldt policeman,” she replied. A Humboldt policeman came by yesterday and then again last night looking for him.
 
Last night he told me his car was found parked out on the Humboldt Lake Road and Yarnell wasn’t anywhere around.
 
That’s not good, Carson, that’s not good.” Colleen started to cry again.

“A Humboldt policeman came by yesterday?
 
What time was that?” I asked frowning.

“I don’t know, sometime yesterday.
 
One of the
‘Nazarene Baptist Church’
members tried to ask him what he wanted, and he pushed them down to the ground and stormed into my house. Then he came back again last night and told me they had found his car and if I heard from him I should call the police department.”

“Who was the policeman?
 
Do you know his name?” I asked.

“I believe his name was Menard.
 
I think that’s what he said.” Colleen was trying to straighten herself up.

“So I guess you still have a house full of demonstrators?” I asked shaking my head.

“Oh yeah, and even more came today.
 
They are sleeping all over the place, I can’t even get into the bathroom or kitchen – it is a mess!” Colleen started to shake.

“Colleen, you know, I am here to help.
 
Will you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything, but what can I do?” She was going to start crying again.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” I said as I got back out in the rain and ran over to the City Café to use the phone.

Fortunately, I didn’t drown on my trip and was back at Colleen’s car within five minutes.

“I want you to drive to Chiefs; it’s where we met the other night.
 
See Tommy, the same man you talked with, and he will have a room for you.
 
My friend, Nickie Woodson, owns Chiefs and she has a place for you to stay.
 
It comes with meals, and I expect them to be first class,” I tried to laugh. “Now, get out of here and don’t go anywhere until you hear from me.
 
Okay?”

Colleen didn’t speak; she just squeezed my hand and tried to not cry.
 
I understood her pain.

I opened the car door, but Colleen grabbed my arm before I could get out. “Carson, you know they are burying that girl today, that girl that got murdered.
 
I thought about going to the cemetery, but guess I better not,” she said with her big brown eyes wide open and staring at me.

“No, you better not; I’ll drive by and say a prayer for you - promise.
 
Now, I just want you to get yourself to Chiefs and STAY there until you hear different from me.
 
Okay?”

“Okay,” she answered as I stepped back out into the rain.

Getting Colleen away from the center of this mess made me feel better.
 
Tommy and Nickie would take care of her, and I was sure no one would be looking for her at Chiefs.

~

R
ain was steady, as I pulled out of my parking space and pointed the Ford toward Rose Hill.
 
Paying my respects and saying a prayer for Colleen might clear my thoughts and help me focus on the problems.
 
As usual, I was wrong.

The rain seemed harder when I drove between the concrete entrance markers and into Rose Hill Cemetery.
 
Off to my left I saw the blue canopy belonging to Hunt Funeral Home and several cars still sitting in the roadway next to the fresh grave.
 
Not wishing to disturb the family, I turned to the right, planning to circle the cemetery and come back later to pay my respects when everyone had left.
 
I had only driven a few hundred yards when I spotted that old Humboldt City Police Cruiser sitting at the top of the hill; the cruiser driven by Officer Carl Menard.

I quickly drove the Ford up the hill and parked on the passenger side.
 
His windows were fogged over and I was out of my car and tapping on his window almost before he realized I was there.
 
At first I thought he was going to ignore my knocking and let me drown, but he eventually leaned over and opened the door.
 
I got in out of the rain and sat down.

“What do you want, Mr. Reno?” he asked.
 
Carl was not looking at me, but continued watching the graveside services happening below.

“I want to talk to you,” I answered looking directly at him.

“About what?” he said finally looking my way and acknowledging my presence.

“First, I want to know what you are doing here.
 
I mean, did the chief send you to watch a funeral?” I asked with a harsh tone in my words.

Carl reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of Chesterfield cigarettes, the king size non-filtered kind.

It wasn’t raining hard, but it was still raining and all the windows were rolled up on the cruiser.
 
When he lit that cigarette, I went searching for air!

“Do you mind?” I said loudly.

“Look, Mr. Detective,” he was ignoring my request. “What I am doing here is none of your business, and the directives I receive from my chief are also none of your business. Understand?”

I rolled the window down to let some air in and some smoke out. But, that also let the rain in, which began to soak my shirt and trousers. “Officer Menard, I only asked because I thought there might have been some trouble and you were here to make sure it didn’t interfere with the services,” I lied.

“Well, since you asked, Henry Walker’s brother, Yarnell, is missing.
 
I just thought it a good idea to check on things and make sure he or some of those demonstrators didn’t show up and make trouble, that’s all.
 
Now, what did you want to talk to me about?”

The smoke was getting thicker and my eyes were starting to water, which seemed to make him happy.
 
The rolled down window wasn’t helping either; I was getting drenched and starving for air at the same time!

“Officer Menard,” I somehow managed to say between coughs. “What were you doing at Colleen Walker’s house yesterday?”

He turned and gazed at me with the same look I had seen a few days ago at Bea’s Place. “I was looking for Yarnell Walker.
 
What do you think I was doing there?”

“Why were you there twice?”

“I was looking for him twice,” he snarled. “Look, asshole, I’m not here to answer your questions, so go play Dick Tracy somewhere else.”

I leaned across the cruiser and put my left hand over his service revolver, while grabbing his shirt collar from the front with my right hand.
 
Carl Menard was startled and instinctively grabbed my left hand looking for his gun. That’s when I pulled him toward me and put my nose about two inches from that cigarette still hanging from his lips.

“Now, you look, asshole,” I said in a quiet voice. “If I catch you within a mile of Colleen Walker or her house again, I’ll stick one of those cigarettes up your ass and make you smoke it from that end.
 
Am I making myself clear?”

“You can’t…can’t talk to me like this,” he stuttered.

“I just did,” I said releasing my grip on his collar, while shoving him back against the driver’s door.

Carl Menard didn’t speak; he just stared at me with hate written all over his face.
 
That’s just what I wanted.

“Now, Officer Carl Menard,” I offered. “I’m leaving now.
 
If you want to get out of this smoke pot and play in the rain, just join me outside.
 
Otherwise, I’ll see you later I’m sure.
 
Have a nice day.”
 
I opened the door and stepped back into the rain – Officer Carl Menard didn’t move.

I got back in the Ford and headed out of Rose Hill Cemetery.
 
The graveside services were still going on under the Hunt Funeral Home tent.
 
Officer Carl Menard was still sitting in his car where I had left him and it was still raining – only now just a steady mist.

~

I
quickly drove to Chiefs and got into some dry clothes.
 
I also checked with Tommy to make sure he had taken care of Colleen.
 
He had put her in Cabin 5, next to me and the one previously occupied by Joe Richardson.
 
Tommy had also taken the precaution of parking Colleen’s car behind a vacant building just to the north of Chiefs.
 
It wasn’t hidden, but also wasn’t obvious to anyone who might be curious.

Feeling much better without the soaked pants and shirt, I decided it might be a good time to wake up Liz and see if a Bloody Mary might make her feel better.
 
However, I really wanted to talk with Leroy about Colleen and Officer Menard.
 
I headed toward the
‘Crossing’
to see if he might be having coffee at
‘Bea’s Place’.

Leroy’s cruiser wasn’t there, so I drove across the street to Baggett’s Market, where I could purchase some tomato juice and celery for Liz’s Bloody Marys.

It was still misting rain as I left Baggett’s Market and drove back out onto 9
th
Avenue.
 
Glancing in my rearview mirror, I saw a white Ford truck pull out from behind the poolroom and fall in behind me.
 
They stayed several hundred yards back and followed me up Mitchell, making the same left-hand turn onto Central.
 
I continued north on Central, which eventually became Highway 79, also known as the Trenton Highway.