When Rebecca and Nick got out of his car at the Ole Smithfield Burying Ground in South Port, she figured they looked like every other couple who had come, out of curiosity, to see where the dead body had been found.
She wore a long, flowing, multi-colored print skirt, a red blouse, several gold chains around her neck, long dangling earrings, and Birkenstock sandals. She carried a large soft leather shoulder purse. Nick had dressed in tan slacks and an aqua Polo shirt that accented his tanned, muscular physique and highlighted his aqua green eyes.
Upon their arrival, they discussed whether or not to go by the police station and introduce themselves, but decided to visit the graveyard first. Nick wanted to see what he could pick up on his own.
Rebecca felt a little queasy when she saw the dying flowers lying on the plot. A woman stood near the grave taking a picture of a man and a little girl posing beside the headstone.
“Is that the place?” Rebecca whispered.
Nick nodded. “I’m sure it is.” He looked at her. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
He reached for her hand anyway and gave it a little squeeze.
“Thanks,” she whispered, squeezing back.
Several people were in the graveyard, some looking at old graves and reading markers, and others standing around the grave discussing why they thought the body had been left there. Some took pictures and videos of the area. A few sat on other gravestones, just watching.
Nick led Rebecca to the side of the grave where Mindy had been found, but he didn’t stop. He continued to walk around the perimeter. After reaching the other side, he leaned over and whispered to her, “I’m trying to decide how I think he might have carried her in here.”
“Probably not through the front. Someone might have spotted him.”
“You’re right.” He pointed to the street leading from the bay area. “There are too many houses on that side. I noticed as we arrived that the back of the cemetery is inaccessible, so my guess is that he came in from that side over there. Let’s walk that way.”
“Why?”
“Who knows? He may have dropped something.”
Rebecca hadn’t thought of that. She held tightly to Nick’s hand and permitted him to lead her. He paused every few minutes and looked toward the side of the graveyard where he thought the killer had entered the cemetery. He would then change directions and walk a few feet to one side or the other.
They soon reached enclosures surrounding the side entrance, brick columns connected with iron rods. Nick glanced at the street sign on the corner. “This is probably how he came into the graveyard. It’s rather private and would be dark at night.”
He turned back toward the grave. It wasn’t visible from this area.
He let go of Rebecca’s hand. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just outside the fence. See the openings every so often? I’m sure they’re used for getting a casket inside the cemetery. If they weren’t here, they’d have to climb over the railings.”
She followed him. “Are you trying to decide which one you think the killer came through?”
“Yes.” He walked toward the back of the graveyard. “I can’t see the grave he placed her on from this opening. Let’s try the next one.”
They walked to the end of the enclosure, but the grave wasn’t visible from either entrance.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe that he just came into the cemetery and chose the grave at random. But I have my doubts about that.”
“Why?” She realized they were holding hands again. She didn’t remember taking his hand, but now that she was aware of it she didn’t pull hers away. She felt safe as long as he held on to her.
“For one thing, look how far it is into the graveyard,” he answered her question. “He could have used a grave nearer to this side, but the one he chose is closer to the front and the other side. That means he had to carry the body a longer distance. If he’d wanted to use a random grave, he would have deposited the body earlier.”
“Should we check out the name on the marker?”
“We’ll do that when we get back.” Nick bent and looked at the ground. “There have probably been a hundred cars in here since that night.”
He straightened and walked back up the side of the graveyard, keeping his eyes on the ground. After a minute, he paused. “I wonder why those tracks are so much closer to the fence than the others.”
Rebecca looked where he pointed. He stopped at the next opening. “I think this is where he came in.”
It was the next to the last opening in the fence. “Okay. I’m not going to ask why.”
“Let’s go toward the grave now.” He smiled at her. “Scan the ground to your left as we walk. I’ll check on the right.”
“What are we looking for?”
“Anything you think might be out of place.”
By the time they were half way back to the grave, they’d collected a nickel, two bottle caps, a pair of sunglasses, and a button. Nick halted at the bottom of a small family plot enclosed by its own wrought iron fence inside the larger cemetery.
“Rebecca, look at this. Some type of material is snagged on the corner of the fence.” He pulled it loose and handed it to her. “What do you think it is?”
She rubbed the cloth between her fingers. “Feels like a piece of good fabric from maybe a shirt or blouse, or even from a sheet. I’d say at least a three-fifty or four hundred thread count.”
“If it’s from a sheet, it could have been used to wrap a body. Do you know what the thread count on your sister’s sheets are?”
“No, but Mindy only used white sheets. And this was probably from a white sheet.”
“I’m sure millions of people use white sheets, but…”
When his voice trailed off, Rebecca asked, “But what?”
“Chances are, not many brought one to this graveyard and snagged it on that fence.”
She didn’t answer, and they moved forward.
The rest of the distance netted them a broken bracelet, a shard of blue glass, and a piece of paper that seemed to be part of a deposit slip from a bank.
The crowd had thinned to two by the time they reached the grave. Nick handed Rebecca the plastic bag with all the items to put into her purse.
“I’m going to read the gravestone. Want to come?” He looked at her.
“I do, but…”
“It’s up to you. You don’t have to.”
“Wait, I’m coming. Hold my hand.”
Nick took her hand. She hated for him to feel her trembling, but was relieved when he tightened his grip. “I think we should make a note of everything engraved on the tombstone.”
“Will you let me do that? It’ll help me concentrate on something besides the idea of my sister lying there.”
“Okay. Got paper?”
She dropped his hand and nodded. Soon she wrote the words on a note pad she’d found in her purse. As of yet, she hadn’t looked directly at the ground in front of the tombstone. Oh, Mindy. Why did it have to end like this? You had so much to live for. Was it your way of life that caused your death? Could I have done something to prevent it?
She continued to write, though her eyes misted.
To get her mind off Mindy, Rebecca reread the words she’d written. The grave was that of a young woman twenty-eight years old. The inscription read, Oh that I had wings like a dove! That I might fly to thou my companion, my guide, my sweet and loving wife.
She paused and muttered, “There’s something familiar about those words. They must be from a famous poem or something.”
A uniformed policeman walked up beside the yellow tape. His badge identified him as Officer Tinny.
Nick walked over to him and pulled out his identification. “I’m Nick Quimbley from Winston-Salem. The lady with me is the sister of the deceased. She’s been active in the investigation and wanted to come with me to see where you found her sister. As soon as we’re finished, I’d like to come by the station and talk with the detective handling the case.”
“That’ll be fine. I’ll let him know you’re coming. His name is Michael Whittington.” He looked toward Rebecca and said, “We come by daily to make sure nobody has destroyed the grave.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Nick said. “You and I both know there are a lot of weirdoes out there.”
“You’ve got that right.
“Will you tell me how to get to the police station?” Nick asked, and the officer complied. Once he had the directions, Nick added, “Thanks. We’ll be there soon.”
He moved back to the gravestone, and Rebecca finally looked at the grave. Thinking of Mindy, she couldn’t stop herself from crying.
Nick put his arm around her shoulders. “Be strong. It’s going to be all right.”
“I know it will. It’s just so hard to accept.”
“Do you want to go?”
“Yes.”
He guided her over to a huge old gnarled Magnolia tree.
“If it wasn’t so sad, it would be peaceful here,” she said as she looked around.
“Are you okay?” He eyed her.
“I’ll be fine.” She smiled at him. “Would it offend you if I asked to be left alone for a little while?”
“Of course not.” He stood. “I’ll scout around a little more. Take your time. I’ll be close by.”
“Thank you.” She touched his face, then withdrew her hand quickly.
Nick went back to the grave. He didn’t know what he was going to do next, but he had to give her some time to herself. A jogger paused to look at him. Knowing from the police report that a jogger had found Mindy’s body, Nick wondered if this was the man. He decided to ask.
When the jogger nodded and said that yes, he was Ross Taylor, Nick was satisfied that his instincts had been right.
Later, he was glad he’d talked with Taylor. Their conversation had netted him a piece of valuable information. He wasn’t sure how to pursue it, though, and as he mulled it over, Rebecca came toward him. He made up his mind. He’d act on the tip now.
When they got back in the car, Nick said, “I have to run an errand. It shouldn’t take long.”
“Will it help us?”
“I hope so. I have to see a man named Henry Archer.”
“Who is he?”
“I ran into the man who found Mindy’s body, and he gave me Archer’s name. He may be able to tell us something. I’m not sure what, but I want to check it out.”
Before long, they found Henry Archer’s house. Nick stopped the car in the driveway.
“Rebecca, I want you to stay in the car.”
“Why?”
“Please. Will you do that for me?”
“When you put it that way, I have no choice.”
Nick reached to the back seat and picked up his sport coat. He opened the glove compartment and took out his gun.
“Oh, Nick. Be careful.”
“I will.”
He tucked the gun into his belt, out of sight, and got out. He knocked on the door. Moments later, it opened and Nick went inside.
After fifteen minutes, Nick reappeared with a package in his left hand. He shook hands with the man at the door and then winked at Rebecca as he passed her side of the car. He opened the trunk, put the package inside and then closed it. He got back into the car and pulled away.
“What did he give you, Nick?”
“He made some videos of the grave the day the body was found. I don’t think you’ll want to see them.”
She shuddered. “You’re right about that.”
“We’ll call on the police now,” he said as they headed toward the police station. “Are you up to it?”
“Of course.”
Detective Whittington seemed glad to meet them, but didn’t give them any information that wasn’t already public knowledge. They chatted for about thirty minutes, then headed back to Winston-Salem.