Mountain Top(294)

Mr. Carpenter hesitated. “So that I will be bound by the attorney/ client privilege and couldn’t disclose the information obtained to the police. That’s finesse.”

“Agreed?” I asked, ignoring the compliment.

Mr. Carpenter nodded. “Yes.”

“And I’ll ask the questions first,” I continued. “It will go a lot smoother that way; then you can follow up.”

“But you don’t know what to ask,” the older lawyer protested.

“Just listen. You can evaluate my effort.”


FOR THE NEXT THIRTY MINUTES, I guided Moses through his story. When he described Lisa’s injuries after he discovered her on the riverbank, I glanced at Mr. Carpenter, whose eyes were red and moist. The lawyer wiped away tears when Moses told about the simple burial in a watery grave. For the first time since Mr. Carpenter blocked our exit from the courtroom, I allowed myself to relax. The tension flowed out of my shoulders.

Moses concluded with the two times Floyd Carpenter tried to talk to him, and the reason he kept his mouth shut. Mr. Carpenter pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes for at least the third time.

“I’m sorry,” Moses said. “But I be too scared to say nothing to your daddy.”

“I understand,” Mr. Carpenter replied.

I spoke. “Is there anything else you remember about what happened to Lisa?”

“No, missy. That be it.”

“Mr. Carpenter, do you have any questions?”

The lawyer bowed his head for a moment. “Do you know the place where you laid her in the water?”

“Yes sir.”

“I know she’s not there, but could you show it to me sometime?”

“Yes, boss man.”

“And did you ever hear any rumors or stories of why she was left on the riverbank or how she got there that evening?”

Moses pressed his lips together. I held my breath.

“I be thinking something myself. That little girl been hit in the head a lot worse than if she’d been in a bare-knuckle fight. Something hard done that. And there be small pieces of glass caught up in her dress. I saved a few of them in a tin can for a long time, but they be lost now.”

“A hit-and-run driver,” Mr. Carpenter said, turning to me. “Who didn’t leave her lying in the road or call an ambulance, but thought she was dead and dumped her off in a secluded place. The police found blood on a curb along the route Lisa would have taken home from a music lesson on the day she disappeared. The first test was inconclusive, but the second came back as a blood-type match. Of course, there wasn’t DNA testing back then, and the blood type was one of the more common ones.”

“Why wouldn’t someone who hit her call for help?” I asked.

“The driver could have been drinking, on drugs, driving a stolen vehicle, or simply panicked. We’ll probably never know. People don’t always think things through in the heat of the moment.”

I could certainly identify with that type of mistake.

Mr. Carpenter continued. “Every car taken in for repair to the front grille or bumper during the next few months after Lisa disappeared was inspected by police, but nothing turned up. If it was a hit-and-run driver, he laid low long enough to avoid being identified. My father hired a private detective firm that continued seeking clues after the police shut down the active file. Nothing turned up.”

Mr. Carpenter stood and extended his hand to Moses. They shook hands. I watched in disbelief.

“Mr. Jones, thank you for trying to help Lisa,” Mr. Carpenter said. “Knowing someone tried to save her means so much to me.” He choked up again. “And hearing your story gives me hope that she may not have suffered as much as, or in ways, we’d always feared.”

“No sir, she never woke up until she passed.”

Mr. Carpenter nodded. “How can I get in touch with you about going to her burial place on the river?”

“Through Bill Fussleman,” Zach offered. “He’s the homeowner who is going to let Mr. Jones tie up his boat for the night at his dock. Fussleman’s address and phone number are in the file.”

“That be fine, boss man,” Moses said. “I be looking out for you.”

“Can I take you someplace?” Mr. Carpenter asked Moses. “I’ll drop you off anywhere you like.”

“No sir. I be walking. It gonna feel good breathing free air and stretching out my own two legs.”

“And you?” Mr. Carpenter asked me. “Are you going back to the office? You still have a job.”

“Yes, and thanks, but I think I’ll walk. Free air sounds good to me too.”





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