In For an Inch
Part Two of The Ties that Bind
This is part two of The Ties that Bind, a Deep South mystery. If you’re here in Part Two by mistake, you can start the story here.
Recap part one: Meet Lee Blackwell, a special man who does not want to be special. The local sheriff asks for his help.
In part two: Lee talks to the sheriff about the case and begins his investigation.
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I’m up in the woods. I’m down on my mind. I’m building a still to slow down the time.
Bon Iver
The sense of dread he felt didn’t diminish as he pulled into the parking lot of the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department in Scottsboro. The columned, red brick building with its miniature white dome was reminiscent of basically every capital or county building in the Southeast. Even though he left the family business years ago, he couldn’t help but feel a familiar sense of dread as he pulled up to the government building.
He parked and walked inside, leaving the pistol in the center console. He found Loxley in his office. It was a standard office with a large windowed wall that could be closed off with blinds. The spartan desk was neat and orderly and the two metal chairs opposite Loxely promised to keep meetings short. There were very few personal items on the desk or on the walls. Loxley was thumbing through a case file when Lee sat across from him. The sheriff pushed over a manila folder and Lee picked it up, reading the report.
“You don’t have much,” Lee observed.
“We don’t have anything,” Loxley corrected.
“Have you been to the scene?” Lee asked.
“I haven’t had a chance to yet. I’ve been knee deep in investigating this fentanyl operation. But the deputy who took the call couldn’t find anything. Her mother reported her missing when she got home from work and the girl wasn’t there. No signs of struggle or violence. Nothing was taken from the house, including the girl’s effects. So she’s probably not a runaway and we can rule out a burglary. We have a description and a BOLO out. I’m hoping you can see something at the house that we didn’t,” Loxley said. He raised his eyebrows and peered into Lee’s gold-rimmed eyes.
Lee held his gaze for a moment then glanced down at Loxley’s badge, which was glowing brightly. Lee was used to it. He didn’t always need to use the Gift in order to see certain truths. Loxley was, to his core, a law-man concerned about the people he had vowed to protect and serve. It was the only reason Lee had agreed to work with him. Ultimately, Lee knew that if Loxley had to choose between helping a person and digging into Lee’s past, Loxley would choose to help the person. Lee was useful. That was enough.
“Missing person is Dove Percy. Thirteen year old girl with fair skin, bleach blonde hair, and light blue eyes. No known drug or crime affiliations. Not many folks knew her, but according to her mom, anyone who did, loved her. If she wasn’t at school she was at home tending the place,” Loxley summarized. Lee read on, noting that her mother had a couple of drug and prostitution charges, though they had all been dropped.
“Have you looked into the mom yet? Her associates?” Lee questioned.
“I’ve done two things on this case so far: read that report from the deputy, and call you. This is as greenfield as you’ll get from me.”
“I’ll head over to the house now,” Lee responded.
“You’ll need this,” Loxley tossed him a deputy’s badge. “You shouldn’t run into any trouble, but it never hurts to have a back up.”
Lee stood up and pocketed the badge. “I’ll let you know what I find,” he said as he left the office.
Lee followed his phone’s GPS to the outskirts of town. Eventually he turned onto a meandering dirt road that was nearly overgrown. At the end of the gravel drive was a single-wide trailer situated in a well-kept yard. Bedsheets billowed gently on a clothesline, and he spied several garden beds with a variety of vegetables growing in them. Around the perimeter of the yard was a natural fence – the forest. Though the trees were tall and the underbrush thick, the border had an amicable air, as if it was keeping good in and not vice-versa.
Lee took a deep breath in through his nostrils as the sun warmed his back. Reality felt thin here. The ancient past was pushing, through time, against the present. He felt a sudden pull to use the Gift, to see what truths he could glean from this place that was obviously charged with magic. The colors in the clearing were saturated. The sunlight was brighter than it had a right to be and everything seemed to stand in sharp contrast to whatever it was next to. The clearing felt pure. Lee self-consciously glanced down at his hands.
Still black.
He decided to do a slow walk around the yard at the woods’ edge. The gravel driveway shattered any hope of getting a unique tire track, and if what Loxley had said was true, he wouldn’t get much from inside the trailer.
He began a methodical circuit, starting where the driveway breached the woods. He worked clockwise around the property, slowly tacking his way into the house, like it was the center of a Grecian labyrinth. It was the opposite of how you usually tracked, typically you go interior to exterior, spiraling out from the middle. But Lee had found that people are most careful when the tension is the highest - close to the scene. They are the least careful the closer they are to freedom.
If I was sneaking up on the house, I’d come through the yard blocked by the clotheslines. If the sheets are always blowing like this, whoever was inside wouldn’t have their attention drawn by movement.
As he made his way to the treeline that was directly behind the obscuring bedsheets, his intuition was proven right. There was a small game trail that led into the forest and there were a set of tracks in the grass leading to it - a single set of large boots had made shallow depressions in the packed dirt. He resisted the urge to follow the trail into the woods.
“Patience,” he muttered. It wouldn’t do to follow the first option that presented itself. Especially if there might be a better lead inside. He needed to be thorough. He continued his circuitous route to the front door of the trailer. There were no other clues aside from a faint continuation of the track leading to the game trail. It was time to go inside.
Lee’s heart was deadweight in his chest, crushing down through his feet, anchoring him to the ground, all the way to the core of the earth. He couldn’t move. He didn’t want to move. Sweat sprang out on his forehead and he labored between breaths. There was something else, though. The breeze that had been circulating through the clearing, blowing every-which-way, was now gently and insistently pressing on his back.
Lee shook his shoulders like he was shrugging off a heavy pack and set his jaw.
He began walking up the wooden stairs to the front porch. They creaked underneath his weight, despite his attempts at stepping lightly. He paused after opening the screen door. His hand hovering over the doorknob in one final attempt to sway him.
In for an inch, in for a mile.
He turned the knob and strode purposefully into the trailer. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and as he turned to see what it was, a pistol grip cracked him over the back of the head, he fell facedown on the linoleum floor, and all was black.