Low Country Law Read online

  The bib overalls on one of the men had the strap attached to the front with a piece of string with a matchstick through it holding the strap on. The pants were tattered as having had been worn many times. The man was wearing a long sleeve red plaid shirt. Caley found this odd since the summer head was in the nineties every day. She made a mental note saying to herself, “that’s odd” and proceeded to the next picture where she looked at another picture of the same man. There were pictures of the man’s feet wearing brown brogan work shoes covered in mud as if he had recently been through the swamp, probably the same path she had traveled.

  “Could that give her a clue as to when the men might have been murdered?” Then she looked at the close-up picture of the man’s swollen face. He had tangled gray hair covering his head, a wrinkled face, and a long pronounced nose. Lying on the ground next to his disheveled hair was a blue baseball cap. Then she stared at the man’s right hand. It was covered with blood, not from an injury, but as if he had been grasping at the wound made in his stomach and chest.

  There was a brown stain across the man’s face that looked as though a bird had defecated on it, which is what she thought when she saw it in the field. She thought she had the wrong picture since she had seen the same sign of bird feces before in some of the other pictures. She went back to the second man’s photo and there it was again. That was very odd she thought.

  After the men were shot, there must have been many birds in the area. Then she looked closer at the droppings. They seemed to be more of a puree than hard feces. Not knowing what to make of it, she dismissed it as a coincidence and continued to pour over the rest of the pictures. It seemed she had every picture memorized. No real clues seemed to come out.

  Then she remembered another picture that showed a man’s hand wearing a ring that appeared to have some kind of symbol on it. It looked like a graduation or college ring or maybe fraternity ring. She couldn’t make it out. She added another note to the several she had already made for following up. She had not made more than a few words on each line. Then she jotted down the words “ring” and “feces which she planned to come back to later…

  Caley turned off the computer and reluctantly reached for her cell phone to call the sheriff to give him a report.

  “Hello, Sheriff Wilson here.”

  “Sheriff, this Caley. I am just calling to give you my daily report on the murdered men. I questioned a half dozen people today in the area around Whiteside. I got nowhere. Lots of information, but nothing seems to lead anywhere yet.”

  “I know some people down there maybe I can help, who did you talk with.”

  Caley looked at her notes and repeated the names of all the people she had questioned and gave a short summary of what they told her.

  “Well, the only one I know is Jim Avant. I went to school with him, but haven’t spoken to him since then. Once you see him, you won’t forget him. He’s a hunk isn’t he?” said the sheriff in a jovial manner. Humor from the sheriff was a surprise. Thad Wilson was always a serious man, and Caley had never known him to joke around.

  “He’s a large man alright, but he didn’t seem to know much.”

  Then she remembered she had a feeling at the time that Avant had lied to her. So she said,” I don’t think that Avant was straight with me about everything. Although I don’t have anything of substance, I plan to go back out there tomorrow and talk with him again.”

  This seemed to satisfy the sheriff.

  “OK, Caley. I know you are doing your best. Can I do anything else for you? How about if I pull Deputy Swenson off his patrol and have him work with you.”

  Swenson was the regular deputy on daily patrol in the area about 300 miles square that covered the Whiteside jurisdiction. It was normal for deputies to be on duty 8-5, five days a week and on standby at night and weekends. Often depending on the situation, they would work weekends and take off on the less busy days Monday or Tuesday, keeping the dispatcher informed of their whereabouts. Caley knew the routine and felt she could use the help.

  She had worked with Swenson before and thought it was a good idea. In any event, after just reporting to the sheriff no progress, she didn’t feel it would be a good idea to turn down the extra help. Who knows, maybe bouncing ideas off someone else would help.

  “That sounds excellent sheriff.”

  “I’ll call him and tell him to get in touch with you right away.”

  She hung up and paused for a moment to think about the sheriff’s demeanor. It was different. He had never been so nice. Maybe he wasn’t such a strange person after all. With the political season in heavy swing, maybe he was practicing his public relations on her. He didn’t even ask her to keep him informed, which was his usual way of trying to maintain pressure on her. Maybe he was practicing for his forthcoming appearance at the weekend political Lowcountry fish fry. She knew the Governor and Warrenton Mayor were running on the same political ticket and would be attending.

  Then a more anxious thought struck her. Every politician and law enforcement official in the state will be in town this weekend. There will be speeches, back slapping, baby kissing, and braggadocio on public affairs throughout the state. The current murder case is sure to be on the agenda. The Sheriff will certainly want to be in a position to give good reports to his audience. Nothing would be better for his political career than to have the perpetrators of the evil deeds behind bars, even if not convicted yet.

  Unless I can make some very good progress in short order, he won’t be able to brag on his department this weekend.

  Caley made some more notes on her activities tomorrow, jotted down some notes of a scenario she imagined she would have with Jim Avant, and then left the office for her home about 6:00 PM. She stopped on Main Street in Warrenton at the Calico Bar and Grill where she ordered her favorite meal of country-fried steak and potatoes with ice tea as she did several days a week.

  Usually, Caley sat by herself when she went into the cafe. Tonight when she went in she saw Sheriff Wilson sitting at the bar laughing and passing out his specially printed business cards announcing his run for the sheriff. His card said, “Sheriff Wilson, the best man for the job. You can be safe in our county.” It also had his website listed and his picture sporting a sheriff’s hat and a broad smile on his face. Sheriff Wilson’s supply of cards numbered a million or so, which he gave to every person or organization he met.

  He also had the support of the local Democratic Party. With the number of veterans in the area who recently returned from Iraq and Afghanistan, the sentiment for Skip Hanford was favorable. Skip also had the support and funding of the NRA, National Rifle Association. Sheriff Wilson who had been the sheriff for the past three terms and his name was well known. On the other hand, he had made many embarrassing mistakes during the past several years. Many people thought he was soft on the moonshiners, which in this county was an overwhelming way of life for many of the poorer segment of the population. Drugs were also out of hand, and according to the Republicans, marijuana was overcoming rice and cotton as the county’s commercial stable.

  Breaking off his conversation at the bar, the Sheriff saw Caley and came over.

  “Good evening Mez Caley.” He never called her “Mez,” before so the new handle on here name was definitely for a show of people who may have been listening.

  “Good evening Sheriff. Have a seat,” said Caley.

  “Why thank you, Mez Caley, I don’t mind if I do.”

  The sheriff slipped his overweight body into the seat. His oversized stomach rubbed the table, and the seat squished a puff of air as he sat down. Caley was always cautious with the sheriff. This was especially true when someone else may have been listening. He was too much of a politician and less of a law enforcement official. Still, other than personality, she had no reason to be offensive or elusive in her reports to him. After all, he was her boss and the sheriff that must answer to the people of the county. Caley accepted it. Having spent eight years in the military, she underst
ood the chain of command, and it didn’t bother her to be supportive. She knew the sheriff’s personality. She also knew his ego were his weakest traits. She never patronized him but was alert to give him a pat on the back when she could.

  “You must have had a hard day working on that case over there at Whiteside. You need to have yourself some supper, so I’ll git right to the point. Is there anything new you can tell me?”

  “Nothing of importance sheriff. The last person I spoke with this afternoon was Jim Avant. As I said on the phone, he was somewhat evasive, but that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with the case. I plan to talk with him again, but right now, I’m just beating the bushes. I spent a couple of hours today reviewing the pictures I made at the scene. I plan to go back out there soon to see if anything else might pop up that I missed.”

  “Regarding Avant, as I mentioned to you I went to high school with him, and I have been thinking about him since we spoke. As I remember old Jim was a loner. He always did seem to be harmless, but don’t let that influence your investigation. He is like anybody else, he may have motives that none of us know about. Besides, I haven’t spoken to him in years. It's a shame we couldn’t get SLED down here to help us on this. You think I should talk to the governor to put some pressure on them people, to get you some more help. He is supposed to be here in a couple of days to campaign in the county.”

  “Not yet. Let’s see what happens in the next few days. I hope this whole thing won’t cause you any embarrassment in your campaign. You have contributed a lot to law enforcement in the county. I hope the people recognize it when they go to the poles,” said Caley, stroking the sheriff’s ego.

  “Well keep me informed Caley. Thanks for your support.”

  The sheriff said good night, slid out of the seat and left the restaurant.

  By now, she had lost her appetite. She looked at the oversized helping delivered to her table with a frown.

  Gotta get off all this fried food, or I’ll balloon to 200 hundred pounds!

  Caley took out her notes of the day and laid them on the table, and went over them as she dipped into a bowl of Lowcountry crab soup.

  Maybe I’ll go to the still site again tomorrow. Not sure, what good it will do, but I want to look it over again anyway.

  Chapter 23

  The rural school known as Henderson School was located in a remote section of the county. It was just far enough from Warrenton that the children couldn’t be bussed there for attendance at the city school.

  Most of the 50 or so children who attended the six grades were children whose parents were farmers, fisherman, or poor people on welfare or some other kind of state or federal assistance. The population was roughly split between black and white kids. Integration had just begun to be faithfully enforced in the county several years earlier. Both white and black folks, at least on the surface, were starting to live with the national referendum.

  Mr. Bruce Hunter had been the principal since the school was first built in 1950. Being a rural school with few children, athletic programs were limited. There was baseball for the boys and basketball for the girls. That was it. There was no inside gymnasium. The school was a two-room building with the first through 3rd grade in one room and the fourth through sixth in another.

  No one could have guessed that young Thadeus Wilson would one day be the sheriff of Warrenton County and one of the area's leaders in political affairs. Most of the children called him Thady Fatty since even in his younger years Thad was overweight. Even now, in the fifth grade, he wore off colored striped pants and flowered shirts that his mother had bought for him. In the winter, he wore a knit hat hugging his head giving him a hideous look. His odd appearance and rapid “baby talk” made him a target for bullying. Thad was the class dunce as much as Jim Avant was his daily tormentor.

  Jim and Thad were in the 5th grade together. Since the very young age of ten and a half Jim had become a giant for his age. He was skinny and more than six feet tall, easily the tallest student at Henderson. In fact, he was able to look down at most of his teachers, a trait he enjoyed taking advantage of, especially with Mrs. Robinson. Often to intimidate the teachers, he would move up very close to address them. Mrs. Robinson, being a physically short person of only five feet three inches did her best to avoid Jim unless absolutely necessary.

  The lunch break for the school was one hour. The teachers never got upset if the students returned ten minutes late. The girls, who usually hung together, were always in their seats on time but the boys were always late.

  The baseball field was across the one lane dirt road from the school. It was customary for many of the boys to congregate on the side of a ditch behind the field. The ditch was located among a row of trees and bushes that permitted the boys to sit and smoke cigarettes, a habit discouraged by the teachers, but allowed without discipline.

  This was the spot where most of mischievous pranks and monkeyshines were initiated. About half of the boys smoked, and they could be found in the ditch almost every lunch break. Of course, smoking was always accompanied by the latest jokes about the teachers or anyone else.

  This is where most school gossip started and where the teachers, girls, and wimps got nicknames. Mrs. Robinson was “Knobby Robby,” Mary Jo Haggland, was “Legs’ because of her beautiful long legs, which were not without notice by the older boys now coming into puberty. Lamar Catton was “Turd Head” for no reason anyone knew. Jim Nelson was “Shorty” not because of his height, but because someone saw his penis and said, true or not, he had the shortest dick they had ever seen.

  Because of his size, Jim Avant was the natural leader long before he entered the fourth grade. He was a hell raiser at, and away from school. One time Jim found a bottle of moonshine in his father’s room and brought it to school. He drank at least a pint of the100 proof stuff and quickly became inebriated. In class, he became sick and vomited on his desk covering his books, the floor, and a few of the nearby students.

  The next day Mr. Hunter questioned Jim for an hour about the incident and wanted to know how he obtained the whiskey. Jim knew that if his father learned the whiskey was part of his cache, and his son had stolen it, there would be hell to pay. Trying to avoid the inevitable, he finally made up a lie. He told the principal that Thad Wilson had brought a bottle of whiskey to school and gave it to him.

  Then Thad was called into the principal’s office and questioned extensively. Of course, he denied it all, but the matter wasn’t cleared up for several days. Mr. Hunter told both boys they would be expelled, and their parents would be contacted to help settle the issue. Seeing a possible way out, Jim came clean and said he found a bottle along the road. The principal punished Jim by expelling him from school for a week. Jim pretended to go to school but hung out in the woods during school hours, and his parents never heard about the incident.

  From that point on, Jim Avant had the reputation of being a drinker and hell raiser. He liked the personal reputation and did everything he could to further the image. Being a bully was easy for him due to this size, and that was just fine. Of course, he never passed up a chance to humiliate others. Most kids did their best to either butter him up or avoid him.

  Thad Wilson wasn’t so lucky. One day he went to the ditch wearing his short pants and benny hat. It was very unusual for a 5th Grader, and truly comical. All the kids were cracking up with laughter and teasing him about his outfit.

  When Jim saw him, his first remark was, “How’s it going “Fatty Thady!”

  “Don’t call me that,” snapped Thad.

  “What you gonna do puff ball, pull out your pecker and piss on me?”

  “You better quit it. I’ll tell Mrs. Robinson.”

  “If you do, I’ll bury your face in my ass. In fact, I think I’ll just sit on your face anyway, puff ball.”

  Then Jim went over to Thad, pushed him down to the ground and kicked him. The kick was so painful Thad could hardly roll away. He was able to roll a few feet and was stopped by a four-foo
t pine branch lying on the ground. In his confused state of mind, he picked up the limb and without thinking, came down on top of Jim’s head as hard as he could. Jim staggered and grabbed the top of his head, which immediately started gushing blood. He looked at the blood covering his hand. He couldn’t believe he was wounded. More importantly, he couldn’t believe that his leadership role had been challenged.

  Jim took two steps toward Thad, and said, “you son-of-a-bitch, I’ll smash your face to pieces.”

  By this time, Thad moving only on adrenal lifted the pine pole again. This time it came down on the side of Jim’s head staggering him sideways. Jim wasn’t ready to give up yet. He made another attempt to approach Thad, but Thad used the pole the third time to poke him in the chest and knock him to the ground.

  Jim Avant had been whipped by the littlest wimp in the school, and he knew it. He just lay on the ground and mumbled, “you gonna get it fuck-face,” but didn’t attempt to pursue Thad again.

  Finally, Thad threw the limb at Jim who was still lying on the ground, turned around and ran as fast as he could back to the schoolhouse. He made sure he was in sight of Mrs. Robinson for the next few days in case Jim tried to get him.

  It didn’t take long for most of the kids to start looking up to Thad as they had to Jim. Jim Avant was now the laugh of the school when word got around about the incident. It wasn’t long before Avant he quit school altogether.

  Soon Thad became motivated to take on more leadership tasks. His crowning achievement, and probably what set him on his career, was in the 6th grade when he was elected as president of the class. This feat, although small, gave him the feeling of power that probably helped motivate him to enter law enforcement. After the incident with Avant, the kids stopped calling him “Fatty Thady” even though he still had an overabundance of blubber on his short frame.

  Neither of the boys ever forgot the incident. Jim made several passes at Thad before he quit school but never challenged him as he did at the ditch. Thad was just as happy he didn’t because deep down he was afraid of the bully. He couldn’t imagine what caused him to attack Jim in the first place, but considering the circumstances it was the best thing that could have happened.