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IT WAS EARLY MORNING, an hour after sunup, and Rory sat in a window seat in Martha's diner, eating a breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast and great coffee. Donna-Lou Haney had insisted he and Chet meet her for breakfast. He hadn't expected her to be serving and paying. But she was extremely grateful at having someone looking for her son beyond the cursory search she felt the FBI had done. Chet hadn't shown up yet, which Donna-Lou thought was unusual. Chet was a regular and loved this place.
Jesse had said she was surprised he hadn't shown up either. She kept one eye on Rory, making sure his coffee was topped up, and one eye on the door.
The diner had been filled to the brim with locals and tourists when Rory first came in. But right now it was thinning out as people headed off to work or wherever they were going for the day.
As he watched people leaving through the large window overlooking the parking lot, Rory finally saw Chet Calhoun's battered old Chevrolet Impala pull off the road. The Chevy took a spot a few cars down from the diner.
Chet got out and headed for the door of the diner.
Rory noted the walking with his head down like he was thinking heavily about something. And he looked somber.
Chet gave a subdued greeting to a couple of locals who passed him on their way out.
Rory watched him weave his way through the tables, head still down as he headed towards Rory. Something wasn't right; he could see it in Chet's walk. And he never once hitched up his pants.
Chet sat down heavily across from Rory without saying a word. His head was still down.
Jesse hustled over with her pot of coffee, "Well, ain't you just an old sleepyhead."
Donna-Lou Haney moved in beside Jesse, "We was getting worried about you, Chet. It isn't like you –"
Chet Calhoun slowly raised his head. His eyes were brimming with tears.
Jesse put her hand on his arm, "What's wrong, Chet? What is it?"
"Nora-Jane Jackson–" the words caught in his throat.
"What about her?" Donna-Lou asked.
Chet cleared his throat, trying to say something.
"You're worrying me, Chet," said Jesse with concern. "What's happened?"
"She died last night," said Chet simply. He let out a sob.
Rory sat up straighter, "What? What happened?"
Chet cleared his throat again, "Her...her car hit the Knox River bridge."
Jesse took a step back like she had been hit with a brick, "What!" "How can that be? She's drove that road for years, knew it like the back of her hand. That's impossible."
Chet nodded his head as tears spilled out, "I know...I know. I heard it on the police scanner this morning, just after I got up. I went out there to see it for myself. They've taken her body up to the morgue in Greenville. Teddy Atkinson brought her car in on the flatbed and put it in the scrap yard behind his auto body shop. She went off the road and hit dead center into the steelwork...."
Jesse broke down in tears.
Donna-Lou Haney broke down in tears as well, putting her arms around Jesse.
The locals still sitting in the diner heard the news and came over, talking and consoling one another.
Rory stayed quiet as he set his fork down and sat back, watching the grief etched on the faces of everyone around him.
Chet Calhoun stayed sitting on the other side of the table, his body sagging under the weight of his own grief. His voice was hoarse and low as he looked out the window, "I never thought I'd be making a radio announcement like this for Nora-Jane Jackson. First those kids, now this...."
Rory sat there. Not much he could say at a time like this. But as he watched the grief-stricken people around him, his radar was working overtime.
Chet Calhoun looked up at Rory, wiped a tear from his eye and made a gesture with his head toward the front door of the restaurant.
Rory watched Chet slide across on his seat on the other side of the table and stand up.
Jesse embraced Chet and they said a few words to each other.
Rory slid out and got up. He rested a hand on Donna-Lou's shoulder for a moment. He received a slight nod from her as she embraced one of her friends. Rory looked at Chet and Jesse, then headed for the front door. He stepped outside into the sunlight, leaving the darkness of death temporarily behind him. He put his hands into his pockets and waited, thinking about the woman he had only just met. The woman headed for a cold slab in the Greenville morgue.
Chet Calhoun stepped out of the restaurant, wiping tears from his red eyes, "Sorry...but I just didn't want to stay in there a moment longer. I never was much good with all that grief stuff since my daddy and my granddaddy's wake." He looked back into the restaurant and didn't say anything for a moment. Then he slid his hands into his pants pockets and looked straight at Rory, "Did I just get her killed?"
Rory didn't know what to say.
"Did I?" Chet asked in a broken voice. Tears rolled from his eyes again and he wiped them away with his right hand.
Rory reached out and placed a comforting hand on Chet's shoulder.
Chet took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He looked back into the restaurant for a brief moment and then shook his head softly, "I can't believe this."
Squeezing the man's shoulder, Rory, "If you're up for it, I think we should go over to see the car...."
Rubbing the stubble on his chin, Chet gave a slight nod of his head, "Yeah. Yeah, we should do that."
***
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Chet pulled his old Chevrolet Impala into the driveway of Atkinson Auto Body Shop & Repair. A large number of cars were lined up along the side and at the back of the building. A few looked new, some were old and damaged and others looked like they were being cannibalized for parts.
In the passenger seat, Rory watched as a tall, skinny man in his 60s came out of an old building, the screen door snapping shut behind him.
Chet rolled down his window, "Hey Teddy."
"Chet," acknowledged Teddy Atkinson.
The scent of motor oil and gasoline from Atkinson's beat up ball cap, shirt and coveralls reached Rory as the man leaned over and placed his elbows on Chet's driver side window frame.
"What can I do for ya?" Atkinson asked Chet.
"I've got to make a news report on Nora-Jane," Chet explained. "Thought I would get the make and model of the vehicle. Just need to fill in the details, that kind of thing."
Teddy pushed the ball cap back on his head, revealing salt-and-pepper hair, "You sure? I can just give it to you. Make it easier...."
"Thanks, but I'd like to do it right. Just like Nora-Jane would do," Chet answered.
Teddy looked across at Rory for a moment. Then he nodded his head, "Yeah, that's how she would do it too. Go ahead, take your time. It's way in the back, over on the left. If I can do anything, you can find me in the shop." He patted Chet several times on the shoulder, then headed back for the screen door.
Chet took a deep breath and put the Chevrolet in gear. Driving around into the back and around several piles of junk, they reached Nora-Jane Jackson's dark blue, Lincoln MKS luxury sedan. The front end was demolished. Chet stopped the Chevy ten feet from the wreck and stared.
Rory waited for a moment, then got out and walked to the luxury sedan.
Chet got out, hesitated for a moment and then walked over to Rory on the driver's side of the Lincoln. "They used the jaws of life to get the door open. She was already gone, though."
Rory nodded. The driver side door was a crunched pile of junk, hanging from one hinge.
"She hit the right side of the bridge dead on," Chet said. He put his hands in his pockets.
Rory bent down and looked into the vehicle, "Did you see those photocopies? The ones from the books that you gave her?"
Shaking his head, Chet said, "No. I never really had a chance to look. The shock of it and everything...."
Rory stepped back and looked at the side of the Lincoln. He walked towards the back, fingers lightly touching the surface of the back door.
Starting for the passenger side, Chet said, "I saw her put them on the passenger seat before she drove off. Maybe they're still there."
Rory walked around the back of the Lincoln and then up to where Chet was looking into the passenger side of the car.
Chet stuck his head partly through the opening where the window glass should be, "But I don't see anything in there. Not on the floor either." He straightened up and looked at Rory, "What do you think...?"
Taking a step back, Rory looked at the vehicle for a few minutes. "Notice how the passenger side window is gone?"
Chet took a step back as well and nodded, "Yeah. Probably from the accident. Maybe the photocopies got tossed out–?"
Rory shook his head, "No, I don't think so." He pointed at the front windshield, "Notice how the front windshield is totally shattered but still intact?"
Taking a step to the side, Chet looked at it and nodded, "Yeah?"
"That's because it's made from laminated glass. It's created to shatter into a million pieces rather than a few sharp pieces to protect the passengers. But it's actually two layers of glass with a plastic sheet in the middle, so the actual glass fragments stay together as a whole piece. You can kick your way out but it takes a little time."
Chet nodded his head as he looked at the windshield. He hitched up his pants and looked at Rory, "Okay...?"
"On the other hand, the side glass is made to shatter into tiny pieces much easier, so you can kick your way out if necessary," Rory explained.
"Right, such as when a car accidentally goes into a lake or river and such," Chet said.
"Exactly." Rory reached out and tried to open the door. It wouldn't open. He stepped back, "Notice how the passenger side door is buckled out just a little as well?"
"That's from the accident," Chet said. "It's wedged shut."
Rory nodded in agreement, "Right. Now think about this. If the window had shattered in the accident, you would expect the glass to come out this way from the force as well, wouldn't you?"
Chet looked at the hole where the glass had been, then looked into the car, "The glass is shattered inward. Some of it is still on the seat." Chet looked at Rory, realizing where he was going with his train of thought, "Someone couldn't open the door so they smashed the glass in...after the accident."
Rory nodded again, "It might have been someone like a paramedic or trooper, getting to Nora-Jane but...."
Blinking his eyes, considering what Rory was saying, Chet licked his lips, "Rory...Nora-Jane put the photocopies right on this seat...."
"And someone reached in and took them," Rory concluded.
Chet cursed. "Do you really think...?"
Rory motioned for Chet to follow him back around to the driver's side. He ran his hand along the surface of the back door and then along the driver's side door, "See anything?"
Stepping back a foot, Chet narrowed his eyes. Moments later, he opened them wide, "Red paint traces?"
"Yeah. It looks to me like someone collided with the side of her car. And there are paint traces where the front fender is buckled in."
Chet looked closer at the driver's side door, "It looks to me like there was some gray paint under the red."
Rory looked at where he was pointing, "You're right. Someone repainted a gray vehicle."
"I should check with the Sheriff about this," Chet said. "See if he saw this. Could be important."
Rory thought about it for a moment, "Why don't we go over to the crash site first? Can we do that?"
Chet shrugged, "Sure. But don't you think –?"
"Just humor me. Please?"
***
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Chet stopped his old Chevrolet Impala as Rory asked, on the gravel shoulder of the roadway, twenty feet away from the Knox River bridge. The accident scene was on the other side of the bridge. Chet got out and stood beside Rory at the front of the vehicle, "What are we looking for?"
"Not sure. Let's just take a walk and go take a look," Rory said as he gestured to the other side of the bridge.
"I just couldn't believe it when I first saw her car crunched into the steel girders," Chet said as they walked across the bridge. "Like Jesse said, Nora-Jane knew these roads like the back of her hand." He wiped a tear from his eye.
Rory looked over the edge of the bridge at the fast flowing water below. Nothing stood out or caught his attention. A few moments later they were on the side where the accident had occurred. Rory took a cursory glance at the steel girders, where the car had come to its final resting spot, and then he continued walking.
Chet kept stride with him, not saying a word.
Rory didn't say anything either. He just kept walking along the pavement, looking for anything that might give them a clue as to what had happened.
Chet walked along beside Rory for one hundred yards, wiping a tear or two from his eyes as he thought about his friend and her last trip along this road.
Stopping, Rory turned around and began the walk back towards the bridge. But he went slower this time. He kept looking from one shoulder to the next.
Chet walked along beside him, silent.
Rory stopped when they reached the bridge again. He turned around and looked back up the road.
"You see anything?" Chet asked.
"Not really," Rory answered.
"I guess we'll never really know –"
No, Chet. Think about it," Rory prodded. He gestured back down the road, "Why don't we see anything?"
Chet looked at Rory with confusion on his face, "What you mean?" He looked back down the road, then at the bridge, "If there's nothing to see, there's nothing to see, right?"
Rory pointed down at the gravel shoulder near the point of impact, "What do you see in the gravel on the shoulder where her car was sitting?"
Chet looked down and thought about it. Then he shrugged, "Just the drag marks from when Teddy Atkinson pulled her car onto the road to get it onto his flat bed truck."
"Why nothing else?"
Chet's face screwed up in confusion again. He scratched the back of his head as he looked at the drag marks, then further up the gravel shoulder. "Sorry...I don't...."
"Did the sheriff or the state troopers do any measuring or accident scene reconstruction when you were here?"
Chet shook his head no, "Probably done it before I got here –"
Rory's saw realization come across Chet's face.
Chet looked down at the gravel shoulder. His gaze followed the gravel shoulder all the way back to the hundred yard mark, where they had been standing only a few moments before, "There are no skid marks or any kind of tires marks along on the shoulder. Someone has smoothed out the gravel shoulder all the way back and beyond."
Rory nodded, "The only marks left were when they pulled the car out to put it on the flatbed. And you were here. So...?"
"So they left those. They had to," Chet said with a nod. He did some thinking. "I heard the report that they had found her car and I came right out here. There were only a couple of state troopers and the sheriff. They would have headed out here at the same time as me. And when I got here, they were not doing any measuring or accident reconstruction. We all just stood there and watched as Nora-Jane's car was pulled out from against the steel girders."
"And they can't do any measuring now because all the evidence has been wiped out," Rory added.
"You think someone tampered with the scene, right after they took the photocopies?" Chet asked.
"Maybe. Or maybe somebody else did."
"Like the police? I have a hard time believing that. I've known most of those guys all my life here," Chet reasoned.
"Both you and Nora-Jane Jackson were frustrated that the authorities, including the local police, didn't take the reports of all those missing children more seriously."
Chet nodded then whispered, "You're right. Nora-Jane pushed me in that direction as well. I just didn't want to believe it, I guess. And I guess I just got her killed...."
"No, someone else did that," Rory said firmly. "We just need to find out who...and why?"