A retired English teacher learns of a rumour about two missing high school students and sets out to solve the fifty year old puzzle.

I retired from teaching English within rustbelt schools and found my slice of heaven in a country town with tall pines, lakes, and wildlife. I never imagined my small home outside the tiny town would provide me with the inspiration to write a murder mystery novel.

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I purchased a vintage car from my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Jenkins who had buried her husband of nearly sixty years. I helped her clear out the garage which resembled a photograph album of their lives together including the centerpiece, a 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air.

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It pained Mrs. Jenkins to part with her deceased husbands prize possessions including vintage tool sets, woodworking equipment, and nick knacks Sheriff Jenkins had collected during his long career as a deputy and elected Sheriff of our County from the fifties up through the eighties.

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I was new to the neighborhood and didn’t know the Jenkins. They were kindly elderly people always quick with a wave and a smile. Old glory was hoisted every morning and taken down with honor before sunset by Sheriff Jenkins. When the flag disappeared, I knew Sheriff Jenkins had fallen ill or died.

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Mrs. Jenkins invited me inside for tea after selling off the final set of tools and I inquired about the car. It was her husband’s prize possession and the last to go. I showed an interest and knowledge about vintage cars, and she offered me the Bel Air for one dollar with my promise I would take good care of the car.

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There were old, framed photographs of the Sheriff and Mrs. Jenkins throughout the house including photographs of a baby, young lady, and beautiful teenage cheerleader. I asked about her daughter, and she cried.

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“Emily is no longer with us.

 “She left us not long after the photograph of her as head cheerleader was taken the night she disappeared.

“I miss her dearly and pray our family will be reunited in the afterlife.

“Selling the car will enable me to live my final years in peace.”

“I’m very sorry about your loss.

“What’s the car’s connection to Emily’s disappearance?”

“My darling daughter was the last to drive it to a cheerleading camp.

“She never came home.

“We assumed the worse about Emily and the car was stolen.

“My husband was retired from the Sheriff’s department when our vehicle was pulled out of the muddy bog with no signs of life.

“My husband brought it home, cleaned it up, and it became a keepsake.

“He made it immaculate in memory of Emily and runs like new.

“After my husband died, I’d spend many an hour alone inside the car as if speaking with Emily.”

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The car was a painful reminder about losing her daughter. I drove the car home immediately in hopes its absence would provide Mrs. Jenkins with peace.

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It was only a month later when Mrs. Jenkins passed to meet her family in the afterlife.

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The Sheriff did a fine job restoring the Bel Air and with a little more work, the Bel Air would resemble the day it left the factory floor except for a locket hanging from the rearview mirror Mrs. Jenkins forgot to remove. It contained a photo of beautiful Emily dressed as a cheerleader holding a trophy.

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I came upon a wrapped high school yearbook which had been placed between the seats.

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“Canyon High Bicentennial Yearbook 1976”.

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As I carefully turned the glossy pages, I came upon two pages which had been “dog eared” including a page with Mrs. Jenkin’s daughter and a Black kid whose name was Wendell Washington with a caption below his name,

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“Student Body President; All Conference Running Back; and Center Fiedler”

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Pasted to the inside cover was a photo of a young mother cradling a baby girl. I turned the photo over to find a handwritten inscription,

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I’m placing this heartfelt message to you inside the yearbook and the car which became your coffin.  I’ll be joining you and your father soon. 

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I never came to realize your fate until the end of my life, darling. A woman’s intuition is a strong feeling that led me to the painful understanding of what I know happened to you and Wendell.

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I never shared my suspicion about your death with anybody including your father which would have destroyed him and ruin his beloved career as Sheriff.

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There are ugly secrets inside this county, and I’ve suffered knowing the truth all these many years.

I pray you and Wendell are together in the hereafter.

I’ll see you and daddy soon on the other side of the rainbow.

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Love,

Momma

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I was puzzled by finding the sequestered high school yearbook including the photo and handwritten inscription. Mrs. Jenkins alluded to a dark secret surrounding the car and the disappearance of Emily and Wendell. This matter was reminiscent of the mystery thrillers I devoured and inspired me to learn more about the mystery in honor of Mrs. Jenkins’ and her daughter.

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Clear Lake High School

“Home or the Rumblin’ Reb’s”

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“Thank you for seeing me, Principal.”

“And your name, Sir?”

“I’m Vincent Light.”

“How may I help you?”

“I’m attempting to locate records relating to a young lady inside this yearbook named Emily Jenkins.

“Her photograph is marked inside the 1976 yearbook.”

“May I take a look at that yearbook?”

“You’ll also find the photograph of Wendell Washington which was marked by Mrs. Jenkins who sequestered this yearbook inside a car I bought from her.”

“My grandmother graduated in 1978.

“She’s on page 88.”

“I’m trying to solve a puzzle why Mrs. Jenkins marked these photos and left a note inside for her departed daughter.”

“Are you saying Emily passed before her mother?”

“Yes.”

“How terrible!

“I can’t fathom the thought of losing my beloved little girl.”

“I hope to solve the mystery of Emily’s disappearance.”

“Disappearance?”

“She never returned home from a weekend cheerleading camp and your high school might have documentation relating to the cause.”

“Even if you were a family member, I have no records to give you.”

“How’s that?”

“Back in the seventies, all records were kept solely on paper.

“The records were placed into cardboard boxes and taken outside town and stored inside the warehouse.”

“Don’t you have a method for retrieving files?”

“A flood washed away the warehouse.”

“You have nothing left?”

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“It’s as if everybody attending this high school never existed until we upgraded to electronic record keeping in the eighties.”

“I’m flabbergasted a generation of students’ lives simply vanished.”

“Life in a small, rural, county, is like living inside a time warp where seemingly simple matters like record keeping become enigmas.”

“I taught English before retiring and this entire matter is ‘Kafkaesque’”.

“Speaking of literature, after hiring on here as a new teacher, I overheard near retirement age teachers speak about an interracial ‘Romeo and Juliet’ romance involving two former students.”

“Why would they be speaking about it?”

“There’s always been a racial divide inside this town.

“White people live north of the county highway up in the woods near the lakes, and the Blacks live south of the highway down by the sawmill, quarry, and slaughterhouse.

“The racism remains today, but I manage to keep the lid on the simmering pot of racial animosity before it simmers over.”

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County Sheriff’s Office

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“The Sheriff will see you, now.”

“I’m Sheriff Portia.

“I understand you’re seeking information about the two missing kids back in the seventies.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“I bought a vintage Bel Air from Sheriff Jenkin’s widow who passed, and I found this yearbook with the Sheriff’s daughter and a classmate named Wendell Washington marked.

“Emily never returned home from a weekend cheerleading camp back in the seventies.

“I’m trying to learn about Emily’s fate in memory of Mrs. Jenkins.”

“I found two archived missing persons reports filed.

“Sheriff Jenkins reported his daughter and vehicle missing after she departed for a cheerleading camp.

“The second report was filed by the Washington family reporting their son, Wendell, missing.

“Both reports were investigated but the young people were never located, and the cases were closed.

“If investigating the reports today, I’d assume the two kids ran off together.”

“Wasn’t that suspicion investigated?”

“A Black young man disappearing with a white young lady who was the Sheriff’s daughter likely caused quite a stir in this county, and frankly, it was politically expedient for all concerned to let it go.

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“Sheriff Jenkins retired after the cases were closed and Deputy Perkins was elected Sheriff.

“The car belonging to Sheriff Jenkins was towed from a bog after sitting beneath the murky water for decades.

“There were no remains or any other evidence.

“We don’t have a cold case unit here, Mister.

“We’re a low-tech law enforcement agency.”

“I’m pleased to find a woman heading up the Sheriff’s department.”

“I’m a local girl.

“I did a hitch inside the Army’s military police, came back home, and signed on with the department.”

“Did you know Sheriff Jenkins?”

“Sheriff Jenkins is the third photo to the left of mine on the wall.”

“Who’s the Sheriff in the photo following Jenkins?”

“That’s Sheriff Pointer.”

“I’m reminded of the Comedy and Tragedy masks of Greek theatre.”

“I don’t follow you, Sir.”

“I apologize for the literary reference.

“I was pointing out the difference in appearance between Jenkins and Pointer.”

“Sheriff Jenkins was a ‘Sheriff Andy Taylor’ type from the television series but he did carry a sidearm and knew how to use it.

“He kept the peace and treated everybody with respect.

“Sheriff Pointer wasn’t liked within the department and didn’t take kindly to women or minorities serving on the force.

“He was elected Sheriff after Sheriff Jenkins retired.

“He represented ‘tragedy’ inside your literary reference.

“He committed suicide with a self-inflicted 9-millimeter gunshot to the head and was incinerated inside his house which burned to the ground.”

“Why did he commit suicide?”

“He was a lonely man without any friends, and nobody came forward with a motive.

“I don’t have the resources to investigate any cold case.

“Most of my time is answering barking dog complaints.

“I suggest you visit the VFW Saturday night which attracts a few old timers who likely graduated from high school with Emily and Wendell.”

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VFW POST

It was a small smoke-filled room with a juke box spinning seventies southern rock music with a pool table. I took a seat at the bar with a sign hanging above the register saying,

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CASH ONLY

I was ignored until a hand resembling a bear claw was extended towards me.

“I’m Sarge.”

“I’m not a veteran but thank you for your service.”

“If you ain’t a veteran, what ya’ doin’ here?”

“Sheriff Portia suggested I stop by and ask about two missing high school kids from the seventies inside this yearbook which I found inside a car I purchased from Mrs. Jenkins.”

“Mrs. Jenkins was a fine woman and so was Sheriff Jenkins.