Seated at his rickety rosewood desk, Emory Rome examined the contents of the flash drive Frank Belcher had given them during their visit to the TVA office. Plugged into his laptop, the files from Corey Melton’s computer proved to be mind-numbing in their tedium. All except the one now on his screen, the only one that might have a bearing on Corey’s death. Emory hit the Print button.
The printer hummed awake just before the front door to Mourning Dove Investigations slammed open. “This discussion is over!” insisted Virginia as she stormed to her desk.
“You’re right,” responded Jeff as he entered and closed the door. “We’re not dropping the case, and that’s that.”
“Guys!” Emory jerked up from his chair, catching his desk before it tipped over. “What’s going on?”
Virginia turned her attention to her computer and began typing. “I want us to drop the case.”
“Why?” asked Emory.
Without looking up from her monitor, Virginia answered, “Because I don’t care why Corey’s dead now. He deserved to die.”
“Where is this coming from?”
“She thinks Corey was beating Becky.” Jeff sat on the edge of her desk, scooching the desktop organizer with his robust cheeks.
“Really?” Emory leaned against his flimsy desk, but it scooted away, forcing him to slam a hand against the wall to keep from falling back. “Did she tell you that?”
“No.” Virginia pushed away from the computer. “When I put Becky to bed, I noticed a bruise on her shoulder. It was in the shape of someone’s fingers.”
Emory stepped closer to them. “Did she say Corey was responsible?”
“Who else would it be?”
“Well, if that’s true, it gives her a motive for killing him.”
Jeff shrugged, “Why the elaborate scheme to somehow make him crash into that high-rise? A spouse has an abundance of opportunity. She could’ve just poisoned him or offed him a hundred easier ways than that.”
Virginia looked at Emory as if he had insulted her. “If you knew her, you’d know she’s not a killer.”
“Perhaps you know her too well to be objective.”
Jeff stood and chopped the air with his right hand. “We’re not quitting the case.”
Virginia said, “You didn’t even want to take it in the first place.”
Jeff pointed at Emory with his eyes still on Virginia. “I’m not going to let his asshole ex-partner take this from us! This is our case!” The PI lowered his hand and his tone. “Look, you told your friend we were going to find out what happened to her husband. That doesn’t change because the guy might’ve been a horrible person.”
“Virginia, I have to agree with Jeff.”
“Really?” asked Virginia. “I expected a moral decision from you.”
While Jeff huffed in mock offense, Emory told her, “Give me a chance to explain where I’m coming from. First, you saw a bruise that may or may not have been caused by a hand. Second, you’re assuming the bruise was caused by her husband, but for all we know she got in a tussle with someone over a parking spot. Third, unless it was self-defense, a murder victim’s lack of morality does not absolve the actions of the killer. That person still needs to be brought to justice. Now my first two points can easily be addressed by simply asking Becky what happened. Hopefully, she’ll give an explanation that doesn’t point the finger at Corey so you’ll feel better about continuing our investigation.”
Virginia looked at both of them. “Fine. Maybe I am jumping to conclusions.”
“Great.” Jeff clapped his hands together. “Besides the creepy workroom—”
“What creepy workroom?” asked Emory.
“I’ll fill you in later. Virginia, did you find out anything else about the victim? The dead victim?”
Virginia returned her attention to the computer and began typing. “She told me he was going to this holistic healing center to see a counselor about his acrophobia. Randy Graham.”
“Randy-gram?” Jeff shot her a confused glance. “Is that when someone comes to your door and talks dirty to you?”
“That’s who you should talk to. He’s a counselor at the Mountain Light Holistic Center.”
Emory tapped both names into his phone. “We can question him later.” He pointed to the printer behind Virginia’s desk. “I printed the names of the displaced land owners and the addresses their checks were sent to.”
“Who?” Virginia grabbed the paper from the printer and handed it to Emory.
Jeff told her, “Corey Melton was developing a windfarm for the TVA, and he stole the land he needed from property owners who are all now potential suspects.”
“He didn’t steal the land.” Emory scanned the printout. “Eminent domain is used by the government to acquire property when a court determines the public need for it outweighs the private owner’s rights to keep it.”
“I know what it is, but I don’t agree with it. It’s just not right.
Emory said, “It’s necessary. Interstates were built on formerly private land. Homeowners had to be displaced to establish just about every national park.”
Jeff crossed his arms, frowning at his new partner. “But the owners get no choice in the matter.”
“Once approved for eminent domain, the land is condemned and the owners are compensated the fair-market value for it.” Emory handed the printout to Jeff. “The TVA condemned thirteen separate pieces of property in Brume Wood for the windfarm.”
“Brume Wood?” Virginia asked. “Where’s that?”
“In the mountains about an hour east of here. Seven of those properties had houses on them. The rest were empty lots.”
Jeff’s eyes went from the printout to Emory. “How do you condemn an empty lot? Was it contaminated with something?”
“Condemning land is just a process for acquiring it. It doesn’t mean it’s unusable.”
“And you said he didn’t steal it.” Jeff ripped the paper, taking seven names and handing the rest to Emory. “Let’s split up.”
Emory hurried up the walkway to a modern two-story condominium in the up-and-coming Oakwood section of Knoxville. He looked at the fourth name on his list, Mary Belle Hinter, and checked the address. Unit C. He knocked on the door of the ground-floor unit and waited. Nothing. He tried once more with the same result. Removing one of his new business cards from his wallet, he wrote a note on the back asking Ms. Hinter to call him before slipping the card into the crack of the doorway.
“Hey man, no soliciting,” a voice scolded from behind.
Startled, Emory faced his misguided chider. “I’m not a solicitor. I’m leaving a message for Mary Belle Hinter.”
A blond man approached on the walkway, rolling a metallic suitcase behind him. “What do you want with her?”
He looks like a surfer in a suit. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”
The young man stopped just shy of stepping on Emory’s toes. “I’m her nephew, Luke Hinter. Grandnephew, actually. My grandmother was her sister. And who are you?”
“Emory Rome. I’m a special… private investigator. I need to ask her some questions about a man with whom she had a business dealing.”
Luke laughed. “That sounds vague and nefarious. Who?”
“Corey Melton.”
“How do I know that name?”
“He purchased her land for the TVA.”
Luke daggered the air with his finger. “That’s it! He’s the reason she got dumped in my lap.”
“What do you mean?”
“We moved away from that hillbilly town—”
“Brume Wood?”
“Yeah, when I was like three years old, so I don’t remember ever seeing Aunt Mary Belle before I had to go up there and get her. The sheriff arrested her because she refused to leave her land after that Corey guy snaked it from her. I missed half a day’s work.”
“If you didn’t know her that well, why did the sheriff call you?”
“Apparently, I’m her only living relative.”
Emory nodded toward the door. “When will she be home?”
“Oh, she doesn’t live here.” Luke laughed. “Dude, I’m twenty-five. How am I supposed to get laid with a seventy-eight-year-old woman here? I got her set up at Willow Springs. It’s an assisted-living home in Mechanicsville.”
Emory couldn’t keep a hint of disapproval from blipping across his face.
“Don’t give me that look. It’s a nice place. So what do you want to ask her about him? Is he in trouble or something? She won’t have anything nice to say.”
“He’s actually dead.”
“Dude! Really? What happened?”
“We’re not sure yet.”
“Huh,” Luke grunted. “So I’m confused. Why do you want to talk to my aunt… Wait, you think my little old aunt killed him?”
“We’re just checking out everyone who might’ve had any animosity toward Mr. Melton.” Emory nodded toward Luke’s suitcase. “Vacation?”
“What? No, this is some of my aunt’s stuff. She can’t keep everything in that small room they have her in, so I have to store it for her.”
Emory looked over Luke’s shoulder at the gold Hummer parked in front of the building – a car that wasn’t there when he walked up. “Nice Hummer.”
Luke beamed at Emory. “Sweet, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. Looks brand new.”
“Yeah, I just bought… Wait a second. You think I spent the money my aunt got for her land on my car.”
“It crossed my mind.”
“Just uncross it. I don’t need to steal money. I make enough of my own.” Luke pulled a business card from his wallet and handed it to Emory. The card identified him as an investment broker at local firm. “One of the last things my parents did before they died was convince me to stop studying rocks in favor of finance, so I could make some real money after college. My aunt’s money is in an account that I have access to, but it’s only so I can pay for Willow Springs.”
Emory placed the card in his pocket and nodded. “All right. Well, thank you for your time.”
As Emory headed back toward the street, Luke said something that made him spin around. “You know, maybe she did do it.”
“Do what?”
“Kill that guy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t mean like she physically killed him.” Luke’s voice lost its careless tone. “My mom would tell me stories about Aunt Mary Belle. She’s not normal, and she’s not one you want to anger.”
“What are you saying?”
“She has a way of… making things happen. The locals have a name for her. They call her the Crick Witch.”