Crooked Roads Ginseng War

By KC Reedy

Crooked Roads:Ginseng War
#2 Sheriff Jack Stanley Series

Daniel Boone made his family fortune shipping ginseng to China and the resulting trade between the US and the Orient grew steadily for two centuries. During the 21st Century, harvesting and trade of ginseng slowed after the root was nearly dug to extinction.
Undisturbed in the next 100 years in a certain hollow of Dixon County, the plant slowly covered the forest floor and kept pace with the kudzu growing above. As health foods and herbal markets expanded in the late 21st Century the worldwide price soared. One pound of ginseng suddenly was worth 20 times what it had brought at local dealers in the 1980s.
One man dreamed of harvesting ton's of ginseng from one small hollow. However, aging twin sisters owned the land and they were determined that no one would harm the land or take its resources from the family.
Ginseng becomes the root of all evil and Sheriff Jack Stanley must dig up clues to solve the mystery growing out of the Ginseng War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KC Reedy
• Release date: Nov 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301348497

KC Reedy

I grew up in a kudzu patch in Southwest Virginia. I started my career in education in Abingdon, VA and spent several years as a high school principal near Nashville, Tennesse and worked as an educator (teacher, coach, principal) for 25 plus years. I graduated from Emory and Henry College, received a Master's from Radford University and another from Austin Peay State University. I now live in Bristol, Va (Birthplace of Country Music), where my six year old grand daughter is dedicating her life to raising me up right; again.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The old barn had seen better days but was not in any danger of falling down any time soon. It and the slightly newer barn fifty yards beyond had not had human foot traffic in over five years. In the first barn, the three stalls were empty and the hay loft above had less than a dozen hay bales piled up against the front wall near the loading window. In the second, the floor plan was more open with only one room in a back corner.

A tall man in a blue jeans shirt and khaki pants made an appearance at the open door of this second barn causing a family of ground hogs to scamper into their holes near the back wall. Three crows cackled and took wing from the rafters and made for the woods behind the barns. It became quiet again in the barn and the man walked slowly through only to return and then to peer out across the field where the burnt remnant of a home once stood.

Only the chimney remained.

An old neglected apple orchid between the barns still had a few trees producing apples. Most of the apples had fallen to the ground or had been pecked to death by the crows. The split rail fence surrounding the one acre orchard was down in several places and likely due to passing deer.

The tall man turned and stood for several minutes looking into the barn.

This will do just fine, he said.

Chapter 2

It was Wednesday. Julie Stanley sat cross-legged on the porch deck in front of her home; a big bowl of beans fresh picked from the garden by her side ready to be strung and snapped. The big Labrador retriever, Barney, was lying under the dogwood nearest the gate where he could keep one eye on her and one eye on the sparse traffic that passed by on this dead-end ridge road.

Julie’s husband, Sheriff Jack Stanley, was at his office in Fairview, county seat of Dixon County. He planned to be home for lunch today if things went well. That meant there was a fifty-fifty chance he would not make it the six miles up the mountain. His schedule had been more hectic than usual following the successful end to the Homeland Security event that occurred in Galesville last month. Julie shivered remembering the close calls Jack and some of his team had endured.

She looked over at Barney.

Hey, Barney; guns, knives, and bombs are not what we want to be thinking about when the phone rings. Right, Boy?

Barney lifted one ear slightly and recognized she was just making small talk so he flapped his big tail twice in response.

From the porch, Julie could see a large fifteen acre field across the road. Just beyond the field the closest neighbor’s house rose in the distance. Hank and Lisa Owens had lived there for at least eight years after Hank had retired from the Navy. Lisa was an illustrator for children’s books and so was home most of the time. Hank left early each work-day morning to teach drafting at the trade school.

Lisa’s white frame two-story farm house sat in a grove of oaks and maples and the whole scene looked like a picture postcard. Some late hay had been cut earlier in the day and the sweet smell was almost overpowering in its intensity. When the leaves turned in a few weeks, the view was even more spectacular.

Lisa had said many times she liked looking back across the fields at Julie’s place. The big wrap-around porch and white columns, the dogwoods and the white picket fence, the breeze way to the canning house, and the orchard and barn behind did remind one of a Currier and Ives painting.

Julie’s eye caught movement and she watched Barney roll up on his belly and twist to look down the road where it turned to the left behind her house. He had likely heard a vehicle coming and sure enough within a few seconds a red pickup pulled within sight and dropped off the ridge road to the left to take the road over to the neighbor’s farm.

Julie could not see the driver and she did not recognize the vehicle. Barney, gave her a long look, saw no major concern, and went back to lying on his side.

She strung a few more beans while she kept an eye on the neighbor’s long dirt driveway. Unless the truck had stopped, it had enough time to have covered the five hundred yards and should have reappeared now by popping up near the gate to the big field.

No. She reminded herself out loud of another possibility. The truck could have taken the dirt road to Russell Power’s old place.

Barney groaned again.

Oh, sorry, Barney, I am just talking to myself again. Go back to sleep.

Julie shaded her eyes against the morning sun to be sure she had not missed a vehicle approaching the neighbor’s house.

The vacated Power’s place had been deserted for ten or more years after a lightning strike had burned the empty structure to the ground. The heirs had split the insurance money and apparently had no interest in rebuilding or even in leasing the land. Jack had made inquiry about leasing the two old barns on the property but quickly realized dealing with the descendants was not going to be worth the effort.

Barney had risen about half way and looked around to be sure he had not missed something, blinked twice, and lay back down with a groan.

Julie spent another five minutes finishing the last of the beans, broke them into thirds, and picked up the bowl and the basket that now only contained the strings and ends. She moved back into the house being careful not to slam the screen door so that Barney could finish his morning nap.

Once in the kitchen, she dialed up her neighbor, Lisa. They had an unwritten ‘good neighbor’s pact’ to keep a watch on each other.

Lisa, I am sorry to intrude on your morning painting time but I am just checking to see if you are expecting company. I saw a red truck head down your road about ten minutes ago but did not see it reach the house or even the orchard.

That is odd, no one coming that I know about, said Lisa. Well, maybe not that odd. Hank had noticed a vehicle last week coming up from the old Power’s place. I think he also said it was a red truck.

Not much traffic down that way for years that I know about, said Julie. I have ridden Hunter Gray down there some in the last year or so after a long workout. There is an old spring that we like. Good, cold water.

I used to go down there too. It was a great place to sit on the stone wall and paint. And to nibble on cheese and crackers. she giggled. I have not been down in at least a year. It is getting kind of over grown. I hate snakes and it looks like a good place for them now.

I am not too fond of snakes myself, Julie was remembering her last sighting was in the hen house just last week. Black snakes apparently loved eggs with their mice, she mused silently.

Lisa spoke, I saw you on the front porch for a while this morning. Are you still in the canning business?

Just some late beans for the next meal or two, Julie replied. And, I made a few calls to some internet clients. Oh, Lisa, I picked up window space in a couple of local businesses and I think I may have landed an interview with Mountain Farms in Buckley. I would love to sign a contract with them. They distribute supplies to craft stores in three states.

She had been working hard to build a local guild for artists and crafters and her current main job was to assist with marketing and sales. Actually, at this early stage, she had most of the jobs.

Julie was standing at the sink and she heard Barney give his ‘Jack is coming’ chorus of barking and she watched him run to the end of the back yard so he could race the police cruiser back to the front of the house.

Lisa, Jack is home for lunch. I will let him know about the red truck. You tell Hank, OK.

The neighbors said their goodbyes and Julie went to open the front door for Jack. If he had remembered, he would have arms full of groceries.

He came up the steps two at a time and with just one bag. Not bad, Julie thought, and she gave him her biggest smile.

Hi, beautiful he said. I know I forgot something but here is the bread, a box of pasta and a dozen canning jars.

More than enough to make it though the winter, she laughed.

She pushed him gently into the kitchen where he deposited the bag on the island, turned, and gave her big hug.

Did you miss me?

Only while I did the beans, she replied. Barney listens while I talk to myself.

Are you implying that I do not listen? He knew she was teasing.

"Actually, you are pretty good for a man. I hear your kind are not always so considerate. I must have trained you well.

Humph, he said. And your kind usually has lunch on the table. Oh, sorry, that was rude. Here, sit down and let me make you a sandwich. Talk to me and I will show you I can listen as well as Barney can."

Julie pulled a stool out from the island and began telling Jack about the work she had done that morning including the contacts she had made. He opened the fridge and extracted a plate of country ham left over from Sunday dinner. He placed it on the island and swirled his finger over the ham in a silent question to her and she, still talking, answered yes with a slight nod. They made an excellent team.

Jack sliced a tomato, finished making the sandwiches, poured some sweet tea in tall glasses of ice, and added a kosher dill pickle to each of the plates.

OK, I just remembered what I forgot. Potato chips. Any potato salad left?

Maybe a spoonful. You eat it. I just want the sandwich.

He sat down next to her and asked a couple of questions that told Julie he really was listening and she gave him a pat on the back.

Good boy, she said.

Is that what you told Barney, too?

Yep. But he got a good belly rub to go along with it.

Well, in case I am due one of those, can I get a rain check?

Let’s make it tonight. You owe me a foot rub. Remember?

Jack pulled her and her stool closer. I think you may be a keeper after all.

Julie smacked him playfully on the shoulder. She then told him about the red truck and included the information that Hank had likely seen the same vehicle last week.

Interesting, Jack said. Sounds like a traffic jam considering what we have seen down that way in the past few years. I will drive down there after lunch and take a look around."

Chapter 3

Jack started down the road to Hank’s and turned his big Crown Vic down to the left off the road and bounced down the steep rutted out lane. It had not seen any care in at least five years and rain and grass and small trees were taking a toll on what remained of the narrow road to the old Power’s place. Jack could see that another vehicle or two had been this way recently as the tops of the blue cornflowers growing in the roadbed had been snapped off by the under-rigging of a car or truck.

It was only a quarter mile down to the old place but the trip took almost two minutes. At the bottom of the lane, Jack surveyed what lay before him. There was the old spring-fed watering trough. In his younger days he had ridden horses and plow mules down here many times to cool off the animals after a hot day in the fields above. The house was gone and only the stone chimney marked the spot.

No. Near what was left of the steps were two boxwood bushes that somehow had survived the fire. They looked very scraggily and out of place.

The only outbuildings left were the two barns. The nearest one was oldest. The other barn was on the far side of the apple orchard and was bigger and newer.

Jack saw no vehicle but could see where one had parked and where another, possibly the same one, had passed by the house and went off in the direction of the nearest barn.

He rolled down his window, flipped a switch on the dash to turn on the exterior speakers and said, Hello. This is the Dixon County Sheriff. Is anyone here?

He waited about