High Country Breeze, page 1
part #4 of Mountain Breeze Series
High Country Breeze
By
Ed Robinson
Copyright 2018 by Ed Robinson
All rights reserved. No part of this work shall be reproduced in any manner without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Leap of Faith Publications
This is a work of fiction. Any actual person or place mentioned is used fictitiously. Though some of my work is based on my real life experiences, most of it is a product of my imagination.
This is dedicated to the hardy souls of the High Country. Anyone can appreciate the beauty of the area, but it takes a special breed to live here.
Contents
The High Country
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Author’s Thoughts
Other Books in this Series
Ed Robinson’s Previous Works also Starring Breeze
Acknowledgements
The High Country
The term refers to the higher elevations in Northern North Carolina’s Blue Ridge Mountains. It is best known as a winter sports haven, but towns like Boone and Blowing Rock delight in every season.
The town of Banner Elk sits at the base of several mountains. Sugar and Beech Mountains each have world-class ski resorts. Grandfather Mountain is kept natural and hosts visitors from all over the region.
After skiing, hiking is the premier pastime of locals and tourists alike. Stunning scenery can be found on hundreds of trails and climbs throughout the area. Other popular attractions are Linville Falls and Linville Caverns, just off the Blue Ridge Parkway.
Winters can be severe, with the highest peaks seeing over one-hundred inches of snowfall each year. Mountain roads that seem fun during nice weather become treacherous when covered with snow and ice.
Waterfalls are abundant, and hiking to view them is the most popular fair weather activity of all.
One
They found his body at the bottom of the old mill pond’s spillway. The fall had only been twenty feet, but his body lay mangled in the rocks of the Elk River. The area was heavily trafficked, so he was found the first thing the next morning. Billy Buck likely suffered for hours before his death.
It was quickly labeled a suicide. Billy was a geeky kid prone to depression and dark thoughts. He’d been ostracized as a student at Lees-McRae College in Banner Elk. He didn’t fit in with the cool kids or the jocks. He’d been teased relentlessly until he killed himself at the age of eighteen.
The story briefly caused a stir in the High Country but was soon forgotten. I never gave it a second thought until Brody got a call from the boy’s parents. We’d recently formed a legal partnership and opened our own agency, Creekside Investigations. With that decision came the purchase of shiny new smartphones, something I’d resisted for many years.
The salesman at the AT&T store in Boone had set us up with a business account so that our names weren’t attached. That’s what convinced me to finally give in. No one that might want to find me could know that Creekside Investigations was actually Brody and me. We could remain anonymous in the digital world, as long as we were careful.
Darla and Frank Buck didn’t believe that their son had killed himself. They readily admitted to his quirks but were convinced that suicide was impossible. They’d made their pitch to campus security and the Banner Elk Police Department, but the case had officially been closed. We were the only private investigators in town, so they turned to us for help. We met them at the Banner Elk Café for coffee and conversation.
“I’m sure most parents think the same as we do,” Darla said. “But we can’t let this go without trying. Billy had his dark moments, but there is no way in hell that he’d quit on life like that.”
“He would have called us or come home,” Frank said. “We were still a close family. He always came to us with his troubles.”
“I’d like to help,” I said. “But I know none of the details of what happened. Getting information out of college kids might be a tough gig for me.”
“Please,” Darla said. “You’ve got to see if you can find out what really happened. We don’t care how long it takes.”
Brody had been listening and observing without speaking. She had a talent for sizing people up. She apparently decided that Billy’s parents were sincere in their belief.
“The campus is small,” she said. “Kids will talk. I think we can get to the bottom of this.”
“God bless you,” said Darla, getting up to hug Brody.
“About our fee,” I said to Frank. “If the investigation drags on it could get expensive.”
“We don’t have a lot of money,” Frank said. “But we will do whatever it takes. We’ll take out a second mortgage if we have to.”
Brody shot me a look. This would be our first official job, and we weren’t hurting for money.
“We’ll work it out,” I said. “Maybe design a payment plan.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Frank said. “Much appreciated.”
“We’ll need much more information about Billy,” I said. “But I don’t want to talk here. Can we come to your place? Maybe tomorrow?”
“Sure thing,” Frank said. “You know Old Shelby Road off Henry Fork?”
“Can’t say that I do,” I said. “But we can find it with a house number.”
“It’s the only farmhouse between Heartwood and the river,” he said. “You can’t miss it.”
Brody was thumbing her phone, looking at a map. She’d quickly made good use of our new technology.
“Got it,” she said. “One o’clock okay?”
“Make it noon, and I’ll fix lunch,” Darla said.
“Great, thanks,” I said. “We’ll see you then.”
That night we tried to come up with a game plan. I had no idea what type of strategy we could use.
“I’m way out of my comfort zone with this,” I told Brody. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
“I could sense that back at the café,” she said. “But I didn’t have the heart to tell them no.”
“Then you can figure out how to proceed,” I said. “You have the lead on our first semi-paying job. Let me know when Red and I can help.”
“We start hanging out where the college kids go,” she said. “Every employee in that café looks like a college kid, for starters. We’ll figure out where else they frequent, ask around. See where it leads us.”
“A fifty-six-year-old man is a fish out of water on a college campus,” I said. “Those girls all look twelve-years-old to me.”
“I thought you’d jump at the chance to be around cute young coeds,” she said.
“I try hard not to be a dirty old man,” I told her. “My days with cute co-eds are long over. Besides, I haven’t seen one girl down there as pretty as you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said. “But let’s see what else Frank and Darla have to say before we go off half-cocked.”
“There must be more than a feeling that the kid wouldn’t kill himself,” I suggested. “They wouldn’t seek outside help otherwise, especially since they don’t appear to have much money.”
“We’ll find out tomorrow,” she said. “They’ll be more comfortable at home than they were today. We’ll eat Darla’s sandwiches and let them talk.”
“I’ll concentrate on Frank,” I said. “You ladies chat away.”
Brody spent the rest of the night researching Lees-McRae College. Before she logged off, I asked her to check into suicide rates among college students. We soon learned that the number of suicides among that age group had dramatically increased in recent years. Females attempted the act more frequently than males, but males were much more successful. It had become the second leading cause of death for college students, behind traffic accidents.
I found the statistic surprising, but I had little comprehension of what drove people to kill themselves. I’d not flirted with the idea once, even during the worst of times. Various articles that we read discussed kids being away from home and their support system while dealing with all the stresses of a new life, workload, lack of sleep and exposure to drugs and alcohol. For some, moving away to attend college was more than they could handle, both psychologically and emotionally.
Billy Buck was only an hour from home, and allegedly still close to his parents. If he didn’t fit in at college, he probably hadn’t fit in at high school either. If he were too weak to deal with it, he wouldn’t have chosen to go to college in the first place. Why subject yourself to four more years of ridicule? I was developing questions in my mind to ask his parents the next day. What was his course of study? What were his interests? Did he have girlfriends, or any friends at all? Why Lees-McRae?
I got tired of our internet searches, so I left Brody to continue while I took Red outside for a while. We played fetch for thirty minutes. He would have played all night if I let him. He loved being outside and running around. Inside the cabin, he mostly laid around. He needed some
Brody had gathered some background on Lees-McCrae while I was playing with the dog. It held the distinction of having the highest elevation of any college east of the Mississippi. It was a private school affiliated with the Presbyterian Church. It was founded as an all-female high school in 1899 by Reverend Edgar Tufts. An all-male branch was founded in 1907 in nearby Plumtree, North Carolina. The Plumtree facility was destroyed by fire in 1927, leading the two schools to merge. After the merge, the high school program was phased out, and the institute was renamed the Lees-McRae College, an accredited, coed, junior college.
It was granted four-year status in 1990. The school participates in most major sports programs on the Division II level and boasts one of the best soccer programs in the country. Alumni include several professional football players, MLS Soccer players, a PGA Tour golfer, professional cyclists, and a bombardier on the Enola Gay. The four-hundred-acre campus was the mainstay of downtown Banner Elk.
Frank and Darla Buck were good Christian farmers who entrusted their child to a Presbyterian school close to home. Somehow, he ended up dead before the end of his freshman year. Everyone in authority was convinced that it was suicide. We’d been hired to find out if that was true. I almost hoped that it was, because if it wasn’t, then someone had killed him. Our little inquiry would become another murder case. I wasn’t sure I was ready for that, but I couldn’t turn back. Brody and I both had empathy for the Bucks. Their hearts were broken. We were all they had.
The next morning we drove to Boone and took 321 through Blowing Rock and Lenoir. Near Hickory, we turned west on 40 until we came to Old Shelby Road. Brody directed me using her phone until we came to the old farmhouse. The driveway was dirt, and the side yards were a collection of rusted farm equipment and dead vehicles. Though cluttered, it was clean. There was no garbage or junk, just tools of the trade in various states of repair. The drive took us to the back of the house, where we saw cows and horses in a pasture. The main barn was devoid of paint but still looked structurally sound. The house paint was badly faded and peeling in spots. It was hard to see how this family could afford to send their son to college.
Darla was on the back porch before we got out of the car. She rang a bell hanging from the eaves, just like Little House on the Prairie. Frank emerged from the barn, ready for lunch. We were seated in the kitchen and plates were placed in front of us. BLT sandwiches were on the menu, along with potato salad. Brody and I had skipped breakfast to make sure we’d be hungry. It was a good plan because the food was excellent. I suspected that most of the ingredients came right off their farm.
We carried on a pleasant conversation until I felt the time was right to push the subject.
“Can you be more specific about your certainty?” I asked. “I mean that Billy wouldn’t consider suicide?”
“He was happy,” Darla said. “He was seeing a girl.”
“He had a girlfriend?” I asked. “That’s important. Who was she?”
“Her name is Kate,” Frank said. “Billy described her as out of his league.”
“In what way?” I asked.
“He said she was gorgeous and popular,” Frank responded. “He didn’t know why she’d go out with him, but they’d been on two dates. We never got to meet her.”
“Did Billy have girlfriends in high school?” Brody asked.
“Not a one,” Darla said. “He was awkward around girls.”
“Listen,” Frank said. “Let’s face it. The boy wasn’t attractive or athletic. He was a dork for the most part. He liked to read all the time. If he ever had the slightest interest in girls, I didn’t know about it.”
“You still spoke with him often?” Brody asked.
“He talked to me more than Frank,” Darla said. “Bit of a momma’s boy I suppose.”
“I’ve got work to do around here,” Frank said. “The boy wasn’t much help, but I didn’t push him about it. He was more into his studies and his books than this farm.”
“That’s why we scrimped and saved to send him to college,” Darla said. “We thought he might find a purpose there.”
“What did he want to be?” Brody asked. “Did he have a major?”
“He hadn’t declared yet,” Darla said. “He was taking English Literature and Journalism. I think he wanted to be a writer someday.”
“That would have suited him,” Frank said. “Always had his nose in a book. Didn’t care about sports or much of anything else.”
“Lees-McRae is a liberal arts school with a Christian background,” Darla said. “We never dreamed something like this would happen.”
“We thought it was his best shot to make something of himself,” Frank said. “He’d never amount to anything if he stayed around here.”
“We’re both terribly sorry for what happened,” Brody said. “I can’t imagine losing a child.”
“We’re managing the best we know how,” Darla said. “We’ll be okay, eventually. It would sure help if you could prove he didn’t kill himself. Suicide is a cardinal sin.”
“Did Billy ever listen to music that you didn’t approve of?” I asked. “Did you ever suspect drug use? Violent video games?”
“The only thing he ever had on the radio was talk shows,” Darla said. “We wouldn’t allow video games, and we never thought he was smoking dope or doing any drugs. He was an introvert, content to stay home and read his books.”
“What kind of stuff did he read?” I asked.
“Anything he could get his hands on,” she said. “I’d take him down to the Salvation Army and Goodwill so he could sift through the cheap paperbacks. He liked old science fiction mostly, but also political stuff, from either side of the aisle.”
“He’d read anything that a public figure wrote,” Frank said. “He admired thinkers. Fancied himself one.”
“No bias right or left?” I asked.
“He wanted to know what both sides were thinking,” he said. “Didn’t comment much to me about it, but we don’t talk politics in this house.”
“Do you listen to music?” I asked.
“Old country on the tractor or out in the barn,” he said. “TV is usually on in here. I like to see the local news. We don’t have cable.”
“What’s this got to do with anything?” Darla asked.
“I’m trying to get a feel for who Billy was,” I said. “The pretty girl is an anomaly.”
“We saw it as an important breakthrough,” Darla said. “Thought it might bring him out of his shell.”
“Maybe she told him she didn’t want to see him anymore,” I said.
“Our boy didn’t kill himself, Mr. Breeze,” she said. “That’s why we came to you.”
“I understand,” I said. “Sorry.”
“The girl shouldn’t be hard to find,” Brody said. “Kate, right?”
“That’s what he told us,” Frank said. “Like I told you, we never met her.”
“It’s a place to start,” Brody said. “Thank you for lunch.”
“Great potato salad,” I said. “Can’t recall having better.”
“You’re too kind,” Darla said.
“We’ll be in touch soon,” Brody told her. “We may have more questions, but we’ll get right to work on this.”
“Thank you both,” Frank said.
“One more thing,” I said. “Did he say where they went on their dates?”
“Got pizza someplace within walking distance,” Frank said. “We’re not familiar with the town.”
“It’s something,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”
We drove back home and kicked around a few ideas. The Banner Elk Café served pretty good pizza, and it was just blocks from campus. It seemed like a college kid hangout to us. There was a diner even closer, but I didn’t think they served pizza. Neither of us had a clue what establishments were within the campus itself. We’d have to walk around and scope it out.
Instead of going straight home, I drove us into Banner Elk. We parked by the millpond and walked to the spillway. There was a wooden bridge over the Elk River that led to a trail. We took that trail, which led to student housing on the backside of the Lees-McRae campus. We’d failed to ask where Billy lived. We knew where he had died.
We stopped into the Banner Elk Café on the way home and ordered a pizza. We asked our waitress if she had known Billy Buck. She said she had not, but that his death was a terrible thing. She was in a hurry, and we didn’t get a chance to ask her any more questions. We heard no talk of the incident among the random conversations in the café. It was like it never happened.
