OLD BEN and BOY
Chapter Three
Doc Findley and Harvey looked at Judge Strong, wondering what more he knew than they did. They also knew the he was not going to openly break any confidences he knew, unless it was absolutely necessary, and that wasn’t the case yet.
After not finding anything in the cabin that would help them know what or where Ben might be, they walked outside. First to the storage building that looked like a garage and then to the smaller one. Both were locked and neither had any windows. The Judge said he didn’t have any keys for either of them. So all three men returned to the Sheriff’s SUV and headed back to the Judge’s house.
After leaving the Judge at home they drove back into Hard Luck Creek, and straight to the bank. Harvey wanted to talk to Martin Fuller and Doc wanted to hear what Martin would say. After parking in front, they walked inside. As the bank door closed behind them. Martin stepped out of his office and waved them on back. Doc closed Martin’s door behind him.
“That was a good idea, Doc. I just got off the phone with Judge Strong, he said you would probably be coming straight here. He also told me what you all found at Ben’s cabin. “Martin looked outside his office window to see if anyone was headed to his office, when he saw not, he continued. William said you figured out that Old Ben is Nick Edwards the writer. To tell you the truth I wasn’t sure about that, but I guessed a long time ago he was a writer, I just didn’t know which one.”
“You’re his banker, Martin, how could you not know?” Harvey asked with more than a little disbelief.
“Well Sheriff it wasn’t that easy. Ben’s accounts aren’t as cut and dried as you might think.”
“How so?”
“I can’t tell you everything, since Ben isn’t here to approve you having all the information on his bank accounts. In fact, you haven’t filed a missing person’s report or have any evidence of wrong doing, so some information is just not possible to give, even if I think it would help. Believe me I want to help in any way I legally can. So, let me tell you this much. Most of Ben’s account are not in his name. He has one account in the name of Bernard Nicholson, which he signs as Ben Nicholson. Then he has two other accounts listed in another name, both are listed as an LLC, one is a checking account and the other is a savings account. There is another one which is a trust in another LLC name. Then he has the largest size safety deposit box we have, again in the name of Ben Nicholson. He has two monthly checks that are direct deposited to his first account and he pretty much lives on that account. The second one, the LLC, he does other business out of and he moves some of those deposits between its saving account and the trust. I have no way of knowing what is in his safety deposit box. But I got curious a long time ago about the LLC, most of the money there comes from other businesses at irregular times, some every month, some quarterly, some just at various intervals. When he pays money out of these it’s not for his living expenses, but there is a yearly check to the Judge, that’s why I wasn’t as surprised as the rest of you when we heard the Judge was his attorney, I just couldn’t say anything. William said I could tell you this much.”
“Okay, so how is it you thought he was a writer?”
“Because some of the deposits that come to the LLC, look like they’re from names that remind me of publishers, they’re not exact, but appear that way. And they all come to the name of the LLC.”
“So, what is the name of the LLC?”
“B.E.N. Enterprises LLC. The Judge said I could tell you that much, if you asked.”
“And, the other one?”
“That one Judge String said had to remain private for now.”
“Okay, so how much does Old Ben have?”
“That I’m not allowed to say according to the Judge. In fact, I wouldn’t know for sure. In part, because of the safety deposit box, in part because of how he moves the funds around. I can however tell you Ben Nicholson is the banks largest depositor, the Judge didn’t say I couldn’t tell you that.”
“Holy crap. Now that puts a whole new light on things.”
“How so?” Doc Findley added.
“Because knowing that might mean there is a reason to suspect foul play. No one is going to abduct an old retiree, but one with money, very possible.”
“How about any relatives?”
“None that I know of for sure, but I think there is someone. Otherwise why the trust?”
“Good point, Martin. Do you think the Judge knows?”
“If anyone does it would be Judge Strong, or maybe Jimmy Joe Thompson.”
“Why Jimmy Joe?”
“Because, right after Ben moved here, he paid a fair amount to him. Probably paying for his funeral ahead of time.”
“Yes, as his undertaker, I was thinking about maybe as his preacher, since Jimmy is also the minister at the First Baptist Church.”
“Wouldn’t know about that I’m a Methodist, not sure what congregation Ben belongs to. That’s all I can tell you, Harvey.”
“Thanks Martin, if you think of anything else give me a call.” With that said the Sheriff and Doc Findley left Martin’s office and walked out of the bank.
“You go on over to Jimmy Joe’s, Harvey. I better get to the clinic before Miss Deanne sends out a search party looking for me.”
“She would too, Doc. Don’t tell her any more than you need to Doc, or it will be all over town before I even get to Jimmy Joe’s.”
“I agree, I’ll just tell her we didn’t find anything at Ben’s cabin that looked like trouble.”
“That should work for now. See you later, thanks for going this morning.”
Doc started walking in the direction of his clinic as Harvey got in the SUV and headed for the Funeral Home at the edge of town. When he got there, he could see Jimmy Joe’s hearse parked at the side of the building and his pickup beside it. So, he parked and went inside. Jimmy Joe Thompson was seated at his desk just inside the foyer.
“Hey Sheriff, what can I do for you today?”
“Good morning, Jimmy Joe. What can you tell me about Old Ben Nicholson?”
“Not much, I haven’t seen him in a couple of years at least. He’s not a member of the church. Naomi sees him every two weeks when he comes into the bank. She told me he didn’t come in yesterday and people were getting concerned. Nothing happened to him did it?”
“Not that we know so far anyway, he’s just nowhere to be found.”
“That’s odd, I hear he never misses coming in every two weeks. So, what can I do for you?”
“I hear he arranged his funeral with you right after he moved to Hard Luck Creek.”
“Yeah, he made his arrangements any way. He’s not really having a funeral though.”
“How so?”
“Well Old Bens having himself cremated, Sheriff. Not that I particularly like that idea myself. But seems like quite a few do that now. He told me he didn’t want to leave a grave that would burden anyone to visit and just take up space. Odd thing though, he asked if I could do the same for that dog of his. Now I don’t usually do that, but he offered me enough, that I said yes.”
“Well where are you to send his remains?”
“Not sending them anywhere, he paid me to take his and his dogs back to a beach in North Carolina. I’m supposed to scatter them both in the ocean there.”
“Did he tell you why?”
“Yep, he said that’s where he scattered his wife’s ashes. Said he and Boy will join her.”
“Oh, I see. Did he say anything about any notifications of other relatives?”
“Nope, said that would be taken care of by his attorney. That’s all I know.”
“Think anything bad has happened Harvey?”
“Can’t say yet Jimmy. I hope not though, lots of people like that old man, including me.”
“You probably don’t know this Sheriff, but he donated ten thousand dollars to my church about a year ago. For a new roof after that hail storm. Said he didn’t want anyone to know that it came from him, so I never told anyone, not even Naomi. Just told her it came in anonymous, a blessing from God.”
“No, I didn’t know that. But it’s beginning to sound like something he would do. See you around Jimmy Joe.”
“Later Harvey, God bless you.”
Sheriff Long drove back to his office, called his brother-in-law and best friend Dan Clawson and they agreed to meet at the Hard Luck Café for lunch in about thirty minutes. Dan was eager to hear what Harvey had learned so far about Old Ben. Danny Stephens had asked the same question when Harvey came into the office and Harvey had filled his deputy in on the high lights. Even the young Deputy was now becoming concerned.
Thirty minutes later Harvey and Dan were seated at a table in the café as Jean came over to take their order.
“Have you found anything out about Old Ben yet, Harvey?”
“Well, nothing bad Jean, but also no reason why Ben’s not here.”
“I don’t like it, you keep trying, I know you’ll find him. Now, what can I get you two?”
Harvey and Dan ordered and talked while they ate. Harvey told Dan everything he had learned, and Dan was as surprised as Harvey had been about most of it.
“You’re telling me that not only is Old Ben really Nick Edwards, but, that he’s got money as well. I would never in a million years thought either one.” Dan was talking in his most hushed tone. “Why then, did he move here? I mean he could live anywhere he wanted?”
“I guess this is where he wanted? I don’t know. I do know this, he’s helped more people here than anyone knew, and I am sure there’s still more we don’t know, than we do. I don’t believe he just didn’t come back as he always does to be here yesterday. I think I need to have another talk with Judge Strong, he’s got to know more than he’s said so far, and somewhere in that might be a clue to what happened to Ben.”
“So, when are you going to see him again? And do you want me to come with you?”
“Right after we finish eating, and no, I think he may tell me more if I’m alone and it’s private.”
“Well let me know what you can. I’ll help in any way you want, you know that.”
“I do, let’s finish up so I can head over to his house.”
After their lunch was done and Dan headed back to his grocery store, Harvey walked to his SUV and started for Judge Strong’s house. He always enjoyed the drive out to the Judge’s, but today was becoming a day not for enjoying the views.
A doe with her fawn in tow walked across the road causing Harvey to stop and wait on her, just before he reached Judge Strong’s driveway. Once there and parked the Sheriff got out of his SUV and started walking to the Judge’s porch, when he heard a voice from the back yard. It was Judge Strong telling him to come around back. After turning the corner of the house Harvey saw the Judge on his hands and knees weeding in a flower bed of roses, daffodils and those strange looking naked pink ladies.
“Sorry to interrupt Judge, but I had a couple more questions, if you don’t mind?”
“Not at all Harvey, actually I’ve been wondering when you would come back alone. I’ve been waiting for you to ask me more in private.”
“Yeah. I was hoping there might be more you could say, if we were in private.”
“Good, you never disappoint me. I have always known you were a good sheriff for our town.”
“Thank you Judge. I’ve been thinking, and I am sure Old Ben must have some family somewhere who might know more to help me with a clue about where or why Ben would be late and no one know why.”
“I can see why you would think that, but I can assure that they don’t. I have checked and am certain they have no idea he is not here.”
“So there is someone?”
“Yes, Ben has a daughter. She is married and lives in Virginia. Ben gave me her information about a year ago, after he was late that one time when he found those hikers. That time made him think about a possibility of him being missing. I haven’t called her, because that is not our agreement unless I am sue he is dead or there is some dire issue where he might not be able to return within a reasonable amount of time. What I do have is her social media information so I can go on and see if she has anything there about him being deceased, or with them, or something else. There is nothing there about him recently, so I feel sure she doesn’t know anything, yet.”
“But, he wouldn’t want us to contact her and let her know we think there may be something wrong?”
“Unfortunately no. Ben is very protective of her, they have a different kind of relationship. He would never want her to worry about something that is not concrete. He sees her and her husband on holidays, talks to them on that social media, maybe even phone calls, cards and the other usual ways. But she nor her husband have ever even been to his cabin since he moved. He said they stay very busy with their own lives after his wife passed away.”
“That’s too bad. I was hoping.”
“So was I and I will continue to look as I think I can, until something is there or we have a firmer conviction that I must call her within the parameters of Ben’s wishes.”
“I understand Judge. I know you’ll do everything you can. Is there anything else you can think of?”
“Nothing that I think will truly help you. I will tell you that you and Doc did not find everything about who all Ben is though. Nick Edwards, is not his only Nom de Plume, he writes under two others as well. I doubt they would help though.”
“So you mean he wrote under three different names and none of them his real name?”
“Exactly, neither of the other two are names used for writing mysteries. One he uses when he writes historical fiction and the other is for when he writes poetry. They’re both similar to Nick Edwards in that he picked them by making changes to his real name. That’s actually more than I should say. I don’t think he would mind that much.”
“Okay Judge, well I better get back. I really should check in with Danny and see what else has been going on in Hard Luck while I’ve been preoccupied with this. Thank you again.”
“Come by any time Sheriff. If I think of anything or find out anything I will get back to you immediately.”
“Thanks.” Harvey shook Judge Strong’s hand and then turned, and walked around the house to his SUV. He was out of his driveway and back on the road to town within minutes. It seemed like a longer ride back this afternoon, Harvey’s mind kept turning over what little more he now knew. He was hoping to see some glimmer of where Old Ben and Boy could be. But the possibilities were far too numerous to get a sense of direction.
******
Ben Nicholson sat on the dirt floor one hand shackled to a chain which was then hooked to a huge steel eye on a steel rod deeply embe dded into the same dirt floor, it was immovable. Boy lay next to him. There was a pan of water within reach for them both to drink and a bucket for Ben to relieve himself in when he needed to. He was hungry, dirty and he was mad. He knew he had been here for six days, and that meant he was over a day late from when he should have been back in Hard Luck Creek, at least three days ago. This had been his worst idea in at least twenty years.
The two young Dine’ thugs hadn’t been there yet today. Boy was hungry, and there was nothing left to give him. Ben patted his dog on the head and stroked his side as he lay next to him, not growling or whining, content at his maters side but tired of just lying in this dirt, his only exercise pacing this small dank circle without good light or fresh breeze.
Ben belabored his decision to come this way out of a sense of nostalgia, hell he chided himself for even agreeing to go to California in the first place. But the producer had talked him into it, even with the parameters Ben had forced him to agree to. He had told the man he would only come if it was a private showing, no press, no photos, no interviews, nothing. He would only come if there were just the few people the producer needed there to see the preview of the movie in their private screening room. The producer had agreed, he needed Ben to see the final cut, and agree with it. It was purely a legal issue, so Ben wouldn’t have any reason to sue later. If he had some objection to how they had portrayed his book on film. Not that any objection he might have would have stood up in a court of law anyway.
At least the man hadn’t lied, he was good for his word and there had been no paparazzi, no publicity people. He had seen the movie and was not opposed to it at all. They had done as well as anyone could have in turning an over 600 page novel into a two hour movie. When it was over he thanked everyone and left, he and Boy got back in the Dodge SUV and headed east (Ben never flew anymore, he drove).
But on the morning they woke up in Flagstaff Ben had a desire to see Chaco Canyon and Canyon de Chelly one more time, he hadn’t been there in forty years and probably wouldn’t be that close ever again. So he had taken US 89 north instead of I-40 east. That had been his downfall, and led them into this bucket of worms.
Probably the worst thing was with all the dead time just sitting with nothing to do but think, his mind kept focusing on feeling guilty about what could happen to Boy. He had promised Mayme a long time ago that if he survived her that he would take care of Boy the same way she would. If this went south, he wouldn’t have kept that promise and he was angry with himself about that. He knew Mel would be okay. Those arrangements were already set, the Judge had his instructions and Ben trusted William Strong. The thing that made him sad would be if those two killed them here, then he and Boy might not be found. If they weren’t then neither of them would end up where Mayme was and that would also be his fault.
The day was waning into late afternoon. It wouldn’t be long before the faint light would be gone and it would be totally dark again, with a long night facing them. He was sure this was some old abandoned Hogan they were in, which if he was right meant they were still somewhere on the REZ. Probably some very remote part where no one came very often, so someone stumbling upon them was not very likely. If those two decided not to return, the kind of starvation and or dehydration death he and Boy faced would be long, excruciating and inevitable.
*****
Mel Mueller was sitting at her desk at the NRC in D.C., it was almost four and she had been thinking about what to wear tonight when she and Sean joined their friends for the concert. It would be a late night. Sean would probably get home before she did and be ready by the time she got home. Then she had a thought about her Dad. How long had it been since he had last text or called her. She started to pick up her cell and text him with a silly emoji, that always got him to answer with a “What is that?”, when she remembered it had only been three or four weeks ago, so that wasn’t so long. She would send him a message next week if he didn’t call her first, it was time to head to the commuter rail and home, and she was busy tonight.
Dad was always working on something and would ask way too many questions on how she and Sean were doing, how their jobs were, and on. Next week would be so much better. She loved her dad but just didn’t have the time today. Talking to him always reminded her of losing her mother five years ago, not that her Dad ever brought it up, but hearing his voice always reminded her of Mom.
*****
Lying here next to Dad in the dirt was uncomfortable, head on his paws, the pangs of hunger a new sad experience. Why did Dad not get something to feed him, why were they still in this small dark dirty place with no couches to nap on. He was glad though that those two strange humans weren’t here, when they came Dad always got mad and there was bad yelling between them and him and if he got up to growl or bark, Dad told him NO. He didn’t know why, he wasn’t being bad. Then when they left, Dad would pet him and things would be better. He hoped they never came back, he just wanted for Dad and Him to leave and go back home where it was comfortable and nice with food and treats. This place smelled, Dad didn’t even clean up the messes that he had to make, that leash on his hand wouldn’t let him get to them, and they were smelling bad. This place wasn’t home and he missed home. Finally with a muffled snort he fell back asleep. Maybe when he woke up Dad would feed him again, he would be good if he did.
*****
Bobby Nightsong and Jerry Denbow were having an argument while sitting around a campfire near the creek a couple of miles from Bobby’s parents’ mobile home. They had been best friends their whole live and neither of them had ever lived anywhere else. But most of all, both of them wanted off the REZ, badly.
“We need to go back and leave that old man some fresh water and food.” Bobby was yelling at his friend Jerry.
“Why, let that old shit die. What kind of a fool drives all the way from West Virginia with no credit cards and only has eight hundred on him. No cell phone, no laptop, no tablet, nothing. Just him and that dog with only a driver’s license in his wallet. Who does that kind of shit.” Jerry yelled back.
“I don’t care, I am not going to go to prison for killing an old man. It’s bad enough that I let you talk me into kidnapping him and stealing his car and money. We need to take him some more water and food so he doesn’t starve to death. That’s not who we are. We have a whole life to live if we can just get off this miserable reservation.”
“And we would be gone now, if that old fool was like anyone else. But no, we have to pick an idiot. Let’s just get out of here right now and get as far away as this eight bills will take us.”
“And get us caught with a stolen old dodge, then the white cops will trace us back here. Think Jerry, one day someone would stumble on that old man and his dog, dead. Starved to death and shackled, decaying probably with his dog in that old Hogan. Have you changed that much, that you would let that old man and his dog starve?”
“I don’t care, that old fool can ID us Bobby. If he lives we’ll go to jail anyway.”
“Yeah, maybe, but not for murder. Maybe he’ll just go, take his money and car back and hightail it off the REZ. Maybe not, and we just run off anyway. He doesn’t know our names or anything like that.”
“Sure, but he’s a white. He’ll either go straight to the Navajo National Police or back to Flagstaff and the cops there. Either way we get caught. I’m not going to jail without a fight.”
“Well I’m not going to jail for murder. I’m leaving and I’m going to take that old man some fresh water and food at the least. Maybe he’ll just agree to go, if he gets his stuff back.”
“Like hell you are.’ And with that as Bobby got up to leave Jerry jumped his friend and the fight started in serious earnest.
*****
The next morning Harvey was sitting at his desk reading Danny’s report from the evening before. He saw where Danny and went to Dale and Debbie’s house to help Dale get little Jewel’s kitten out of that big old Chestnut in their front yard, which made Harvey almost chuckle out loud. Then he had written a speeding ticket to some guy from Moorefield. His last entry was about picking up Phil again at the tavern and taking him home to sleep it off. Just as he finished that entry he heard the front door open and when he looked up he saw Martin and Judge Strong walk in, he motioned for them to come on back to his office.
“Good morning Judge, you too Martin. You two look serious.”
“We need to talk Sheriff, I think Martin and I found something this morning.”
