Secrets of Jackson County

By Lee Hunt

It is the fourth of July, deep in the heart of Dixie, and everyone from miles around is celebrating at the park, but Jenny Justice senses that evil is afoot. Her feeling is confirmed when the mayor is found dead in a nearby camper and the daughter of a local merchant turns up by the lake after escaping her kidnapper. No one knows if the incidents are related, and what’s worse, no one knows why either crime was committed. The stories have hit the national news, and the FBI is wrestling with the local Sheriff over jurisdiction. The mayor’s wife is keeping to herself, and his mistress is demanding justice.

With approximately six thousand suspects, Jenny and her granddaughter must deploy their own special brand of “detectin” to narrow things down before someone else gets hurt. What they find is a web of scheming that reaches far beyond Jackson County, and the number of hands in the pot is staggering. Jenny knows she might not have all the answers just yet, but with a little patience and a whole lot of stirring, secrets always boil to the top.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lee Hunt
• Release date: Jan 4, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301710591

Lee Hunt

Lee Hunt is a collaboration between two siblings: Lynda Lee and Wilfred Hunt Lynda Lee is an Author, Retired ER Nurse, Mother, and Grandmother. She lives with her husband Wayne, and Ragdoll cat Leela, in a small community near Birmingham, Alabama. Wilfred Hunt is an Author, Hypnotherapist, Massage Therapist and Minister of Spiritual Counseling in Birmingham, Alabama.

Book preview

PROLOGUE

"I've a story to tell. It's a bit involved and twisted, but should be interesting, I think. It's all about a simple murder I helped solve. And there were only six thousand suspects! I know this number for a fact, because I was there at the time of the killing."

I'm Jenny Justice, a retired folk artist/singer. Bet you didn't know we ever retired, did ya? Arthritis in my hands makes it impossible for me to play much anymore. The voice is still strong and clear – but I refuse to be accompanied by another musician. My little ego problem, I guess, but a girl's got to have some morals, don't cha think? I had a good run and can live off my royalties. Speaking of Royalties, you know I've sung for them all, from the European Royal Families to the American Presidents. Why, I even sang a command performance for The Miss Jackson County Fastest Purple Pea Picker, the Queen herself, Miss Lydia Mae Smith.

But I know you don't want to hear about me and all of my travels - at least not today. You want to hear about those 6,000 murder suspects.

Well then, pull up a stump, get comfortable and grab a cold one, if you want. Listen good, ‘cause you’ll not hear the likes of this story again.

It all started back in Jackson County, my home, if you haven't guessed. The family and I had decided to take a much needed rest from being retired and had gone camping at the lake hoping to see some fireworks, and boy did we. Now the fact that it was the 4th of July and just about every resident of Jackson County was crowded into the park for this celebration is what eventually gave us all of our suspects.

But now, don't you let me get ahead of my story. I can ramble on if I'm not steered in the right directions. That's only because I'm a professional storyteller, don't cha know.

Anyways, the family and I were sitting outside our tents, enjoying the cool, night air, listening to the logs crackle as they burned. Leslie, my oldest sister, pleaded with me to sing. Since I had decided to take a rest from the retirement, I graciously agreed. So getting out my old guitar and deciding that I could just play every 4th or 5th note, I launched into one of my favorite original songs which I felt suited the occasion: Celebrating the Life of the Lonely.

Well wouldn't you know, soon as I started to sing, here comes the people from the next campsite, pulling up their chairs and popping cold ones. Well, by the time I had gotten really revved up and on the 4th verse - Lordy, I must have had 60 to 70 people crowded all around me and enthralled with every note I hit - and you can guess what happened next. Just when I hit my high note, just as the tears started coming down the faces from this extended family – BAM! A gun shot. A shot that was followed by a female cry – a cry so wailing, so desolate that it could tear your heart out.

CHAPTER ONE

Joe 'n Go, on the corner of Main and Peale, is the best coffee and lunch café in Jackson County. Even though there are only a few tables, three four tops and two deuces, it is constantly bustling and crowded with hungry customers. Joe’s is known for a great lunch as well as its reputation as the town's information hub. Anyone who wants to stay in-the-know goes to Joe's.

Of course, there are at least two more reasons to go to Joe’s. Everyone loves the owner, Mr. Joe Papalapapious and his wife, Lucinda. Joe was a native of Greece, and he and Lucinda came to town only six years ago and immediately bought, renovated, and re-opened Joe's. The previously rundown eyesore became a bright, shiny, sparkling diner, with proud owners who worked hard to keep it spotless and profitable.

Lucinda is a wonderful cook, capable of producing the most exotic, tasty and filling lunches ever seen. But with all of her cooking talents, she is most widely known for her baking. Folks reckon it is the first bite of her famous chocolate pecan pie that hooks a person. More than one customer has taken a whole pie home and come back the next day for seconds!

Joe, the waiter, bus boy and cashier, greets everyone with a smile and his famous line Hey, whata know? And, of course, being Joe, everyone tells him what they know. The man has quickly become a walking news source and the go-to guy for information, but one can’t get caught up on the latest with just an order of pie and coffee - no way. That requires an order of one of Lucinda's specials, and then information flows freely.

But, with the warm, inviting atmosphere of Joe's, no one cares. The Papalapapious are well-liked and respected, even if no one has been able to find out where they used to live, or what they did before Joe's.

On Friday, the 26th of June, the café is hopping with folks glad of the weekend break and buzzing with anticipation of the upcoming 4th of July celebration at the State Park.

The 4th is always big deal in Jackson County, with bands, parades, fireworks and political speeches. This year’s party at the park is going to start early on Friday the 3rd and run through Sunday the 5th. All the citizens of Jackson and the surrounding counties would take this opportunity to gather together, celebrate, gossip, party and eat the best food that the cooks could prepare. Menus have been planned for months.

Jenny Justice, the town’s very own celebrity and beloved eccentric, sits in a window seat at Joe’s with her granddaughter, Miranda Fitzgerald, a private Investigator with an office just around the corner on Peal. Miranda and her Nana Jen chat intermittently, their attention split between watching the comings and goings on Main Street, reviewing files, and surreptitiously listening to Joe expound on the town's secrets with Mayor Sam Larson, sitting just at the table behind them.

Now Joe, says Mayor Larson, we've just got to get this passed by the city council next Monday. Main Street has to be re-paved. I know it'll hurt your business for a while, but in the long run, it'll bring more people back downtown and away from that mall over in Salem. What are you hearing? Can I count on you to help persuade the Council?

You need a piece of pie with that coffee, Mayor? We got some of that lemon pie you like so much. Joe walks away, gets the pie and comes slowly back after a big Hey, whata know, to the newest arrivals, Sue and Bill Wilson, the town's newlyweds.

Joe slowly shakes his head and sighs. Mayor, you may be right. But, from what little I hear, not many people are supporting you. Paving cost is high and money is tight. Paving will stink up the city and we just don't have enough business downtown to compete with Salem. You have got a tough row to hoe. I'm just not sure where I stand. I need to think through this a bit, got to figure out how it's going to affect me and Lucinda.

Pulling Joe closer, the Mayor whispers: Look Joe, I really need your help. I'm up for re-election and need to do something to get everyone's attention. Think about it.

Lowering his voice even more, making Jenny strain and contort her back trying to get close enough to hear, he says, ... and we've got to talk about that other business. I've got to do something about him. Surely you and Lucinda can help.

They whisper for few more minutes and then the Mayor resumes his normal, jovial voice as he adds, Are you coming to the park for the 4th Joe?

Oh we'll be there, going to close up here early next Friday. It sounds like everyone in the county is coming.

You're coming aren't you, Miss Jenny? Joe pointedly asks as he passes her table carrying the Mayor's dirty dishes.

Never one to be embarrassed over listening to other people's conversations, Jenny leisurely straightens up from her contortions. Speaking with a loud voice for all to hear she answers, The Park? Yes sir, me and all my family are gonna put up some tents, roast some weenies and have a good ole time. I might even break out my guitar and sing some requests.

But first, she exclaims, I gotta get this girl a date for the fireworks. I'm seeing a man in her future, I don't yet know who. With a twinkle in her eyes she says, You free Joe, or are you coming with that wife of yours?

Joe smiles, but just keeps on walking without answering.

Now Miranda, Jenny says while turning her attention back to her table companion. I was meditating last night and saw you with the most handsome fellow at the fireworks. He was holding your arm and giving you the funniest kind of look.

Seeing the anguish in Miranda's eyes Jenny grabs and pushes over to Miranda a case file. Trying now to keep some semblance of privacy to make up for her embarrassing comment, she lowers her voice. Look at this old case again, it might be fun for us. Kinda makes my spine tingle and you know that's a sure sign from the Universe. We just gotta look into this one again.

Nana Jen, you know we've looked at this file a dozen times. The police just don't want our help. They're sure they know who did it and they don't want me or you poking into it.

Miranda sighs deeply. And, for the hundredth time, I don't need a date. Please!

Now hush child.

Turning in her chair, Jenny faces Sam Larson. Mayor, we gotta talk about a case. And, don't forget that I vote and I have a big family. With that, Jenny gets up and leaves her strained conversation with Miranda and joins the Mayor at his table.

With another, yet softer sigh, and a shake of her head, Miranda looks out the window wondering about life in general and her grandmother in particular. Occasionally, she steals a quick glance at the Wilsons and unconsciously, utters another painful sigh.

Suddenly the Mayor jumps up, throws money down onto the table and says, Jenny, I don't have time for this crap. I'm outta here.

The patrons stare in astonishment as the usually jovial Mayor rudely pushes past Jenny and exits the café. As he walks down the street he begins muttering, not caring if anyone hears him. I just can't stand these people. Everyone wants something from me! Damn, why can't they leave me alone?

He continues to sputter as he starts to cross the street. He stops in mid-stride. Damn, he curses, why go to the office? He turns around, walks back past the café and turns right onto Peale.

My sister was right. I am a son of a bitch. I should have listened to her, he continues to mutter...

Getting to his car, he gets in and drives off. After hours of angry, yet aimless, wandering around the country, he finds himself at his favorite spot, the camper at the park.

Walking over to the water, he sits down on a picnic table and continues his diatribe. What happened to my life? Where did it go wrong? Dad wouldn't be proud of me. He'd take me behind the woodshed and thrash me within an inch of my life. How many times have I heard him preach about ethics and truth? You'd think some of it would have sunk in.

Sam's dad was a true hell, fire and damnation Methodist country preacher. He was able to go strong and let all the parishioners have the wrath of God for at least a couple of hours every Sunday morning. Yet, for all his sternness, he loved his children very much and had struggled to save a little so that Sam and his sister could go to school and have a better life.

While Sam had the looks and the personality, his grades weren't so easy to come by. He took whatever job that was available to help pay for his education and studied way into the night for his grades. He had to work hard to finish college and even harder to get through law school and pass the bar. One of the few bars I ever passed, he repeated to himself. It was one of his favorite jokes

And to think, I wanted to be a champion for the underdog - a liberator for the political system. How stupid I was! Nobody cared, especially those large law firms in the city.

But Sam Larson is blessed with one thing: a driving ambition. I knew I could make it. Fortunately or unfortunately, he adds ruefully, I've met and am known by the rich and the powerful.

With a snort he adds, And look where it's gotten me; mayor of a one red light hick town, a wife who only wants to be a socialite and conspires against me, a daughter who can't keep a husband... and a bevy of women. Well, it's not all so bad, I guess, he laughingly adds.

Stopping for a moment, he seriously wonders. Is there a twelve step program for politicians?

But then with another snort his mood changes and he yells to the birds flying overhead. Everybody can just go to hell! Just shut the hell up! Get out of my head!

After a few minutes, he calms down and reaches an internal point of resignation. One of these days soon I'll be in Mexico. If I can play it right, I'll have as much money as my father-in-law and I'll have all the senoritas and booze I need. But right now, I’ve got to plan. My speech on the 4th will shake this town. Hell it'll shake this state!

And with that, he begins laughing uncontrollably and dancing around the picnic table. Stopping suddenly, another inspiration hits him. And I've got just the little tart that can help!

He pulls out his cell phone and hits speed dial.

Honey, wait till you hear my idea.

CHAPTER TWO

She is lying there cold and shivering. She is naked and bound. Her hands are tied with a rope attached to something nearby. Her feet are bound together. A blindfold covers her eyes, and tape keeps her mouth closed.

Her mind is clearing somewhat from the drug her captor gave last night. Each night, he drugs her, and then rapes her over and over again. Then he sleeps. During the day they seemed to be riding, but she didn't know where. She knew she was in a small dirty camper. She wants so much to think, to remember how she has gotten here. She must remember everything she can so if she is rescued, she will have something to tell the police. She begins to cry. Please Papa, come and find me.

Her mind is disoriented, and she can remember just bits and pieces before she drifts into her fog again.

Twice a day her captor removes her blindfold and the tape from her mouth. At that time she is given a small amount of food and water. He wears a ski mask on these occasions and the only thing she can see is his sky blue eyes. They are hard and uncaring eyes, eyes that could look through you and see nothing. If she doesn’t remember anything else, she will always remember those eyes.

Yes, oh yes, I remember! Mama's birthday. The purse, I remember the purse she wanted so badly. I have to think. Think while I can.

Fear grips her. She never knows when he will stop and come back to her. She is so cold. She had begged for a cover but he only laughed at her. I want to see your body when I come, he’d said in a low deep voice.

She was drifting again, walking through the fog. She could hear her Papa calling her: Abigail, whata know? It's time for you to come home.

Papa! she would scream, but he would always disappear.

Abigail doesn’t know how long she had slept this time. Her mind is more alert now, so she knows it won’t be long before he would be back. She has to think while she still can. Slowly it was coming back to her.

It was almost the 4th of July, her Mama's birthday. She had left the University to surprise her and go with them to the annual camp out at the park. Mama loved surprises so she didn't tell them she was coming. Now she realizes what a mistake that was. No one would know that she was missing. She had stopped at the mall in Salem to buy that purse her Mama wanted. She had bought the purse and had returned to her car when a man grabbed her and threw her in the camper. Then, the nightmare began.

Please God, I don't want to die, she had initially prayed over and over.

She froze with fear. The camper had stopped. She waits with dread, but he doesn’t come. She can faintly hear noises outside. People are laughing and she can hear children playing. How she wishes that she knew where they were; wishes somehow someone could hear the screaming that only she could hear.

Footsteps! Abigail Papalapapious knows it is only a matter of time. She knows she will never see her Mama and Papa again; nor will she ever reach her twentieth birthday. She begins to cry again as she braces herself for the torment of her captor.

CHAPTER THREE

Miranda stands at her small office window, overlooking the alley that connects Main Street and Peale, watching her maternal grandmother, Jenny Justice play stick ball with the neighborhood kids. Miranda can’t help but smile at the sight. Nana Jen, as only a few were allowed to call her, is dressed in purple spandex shorts, an oversized tee shirt, her Nikes, knee high silk stockings and a sweat band that surrounds her thick grey hair. At seventy years old she can still play ball with the best of them. The children in this town adored her, as do most everyone else.

After a long successful career as a talented folk singer and story teller, Nana Jen feels that she has earned the right to be who she wants to be, and that is just to be herself. Whatever anyone else thinks about it doesn’t much matter to her.

Now, Jenny Justice being herself can involve almost anything. She can dress in formal attire, every grey hair in place, make up perfectly applied for a singing or speaking engagement, or she might be seen riding her scooter down Main Street to the nearest convenience store wearing sweat pants, her fuzzy pink bunny slippers and her hair in rollers. Whatever she does in this town is accepted because she has earned their love and respect. Most of the citizens in the town consider her to be a bit quirky and eccentric, but love her they do.

Miranda loves everything about the grandmother who has raised her after her parents were killed in an automobile accident when she was seven years old. Miranda Fitzgerald was the only child of Jenny's only child; therefore Miranda is the most important person in Jenny's life.

It