Chapter 5 - Lost
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Chapter 5 - Lost
7:30 AM Tuesday Morning, October 14th, 2014
Morelville
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Joe Treadway looked from face to face at the group of volunteers assembled outside the Morelville General Store. He cleared his throat and, when all eyes focused on him, he began speaking, “Terry Ford was last seen, as far as we know, here in his store on Sunday morning at approximately 10:10. He left the store for reasons unknown in his blue, F-150 pick-up truck.” Treadway reeled off the plate number for the truck.
“It does not appear that Mr. Ford at any time came back to the store or went back to his home. At this time, we do not suspect any foul play. Mr. Ford may be out there somewhere, injured and in need of assistance. Our job is to mount a search and rescue operation to find him and get him home safely.”
He looked around, “I’m going to divide you into a few teams. Would those of you who know Mr. Ford, please raise your hands?”
Jesse Crane and several others in the gathered crowd raised their hands. Would you all please step over by the SUV to my right? Thank you.”
Addressing the dozen or others left after 20 some people stepped aside, he said, “We’ll be teaming the rest of you up with a couple of the folks who know Mr. Ford and one of our officers. Thanks for coming out to help. Please stand fast while we get everything under way.”
Jesse Crane was chatting with Steven Ford when Treadway moved over to their group to start breaking them down into teams. “Deputy?” he called to get his attention.
“Yes sir?”
“I’m Jesse Crane, in case you don’t remember me, and this here’s Terry’s brother.” Jesse jerked a finger toward Steven.
“We’ve met,” Treadway supplied.
“We suspect he might have grabbed his favorite pole Deputy and headed to one of his honey holes to fish. Something may have happened. I know a few places he might have gone.”
“Okay, great. That’s a good start. I’ll assign you two to Deputy Gates and you can go around with him to all the places you know of.”
Gates stepped forward. Treadway reminded him to report anything they found back to him then he beckoned to the two men to follow him to his cruiser.
Jesse looked at the patrol car and clucked his tongue, “This ain’t gonna work Deputy. We might just need four-wheel drive for some of the places we’re going. We better take my truck.”
“Is that okay with you Mr. Crane?”
“Wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t.”
“Lead on then.”
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Mama Rossi
8:00 AM Tuesday Morning, October 14th, 2014
Morelville
My, my things sure kick off early out here in the country!
I looked over at the General Store as I passed by. There were people and police cruisers clustered about. Slowing my car, I turned off the state route by the only gas station in the little village my daughter was now calling home and then picked my way back around to the store.
Bypassing the deputies and the folks outside, I went into the store. I was surprised to find The main aisle shelving shoved back into the only other aisle and tables set up inside. Faye Crane and another woman were hovering about behind the counter, getting crockpots set up while Sheila Ford sat nearby, on a bench under one of the front windows, staring off into nowhere.
I hadn’t expected to find Faye there. I’d never said anything to her during the party clean-up about staying on longer but, now was as good a time as any. Before I could frame my approach, she spoke first.
“Why Chloe, this is a surprise. I thought you were headed home last night.” Her smile reached her eyes and I felt instantly at ease. She hadn’t handled her daughter marrying mine very well but, the past few days, she’d been quite friendly toward me. Now that the official festivities were over, that seemed to be continuing.
“To be honest, I’d actually already decided to stay on and sort of, how to explain it, help our girls out. My Dana’s not completely mobile right now and your Mel is just so busy.”
“Help out how dear?”
“Oh, you know, this and that. A lot of cleaning, a little organizing, maybe seeking out some – a few – furniture and décor items...”
“Do they know you’re doing this?” Her eyes narrowed slightly as her overall look took on an air of suspicion mixed with curiosity.
“Um, not actually, no.”
Faye’s demeanor changed again, “Ooo, a surprise! I love the way you think!”
The other woman tried to squeeze by Faye with a wrapped tray of sandwich rolls. Faye excused herself to the woman and then turned back to me and said, “I apologize but I really should be helping. Those guys will all come back hungry here in a couple or three hours and we need to be ready.”
“That’s why I stopped. What’s going on?”
The second woman stopped and stared at me, “You mean you haven’t heard?” she asked.
Faye flipped a hand in her direction, “Oh Helen, she’s not from around here. She’s just here visiting.” Lowering her voice and tipping her head toward Sheila, she told me, “Terry Ford is missing. He left the store Sunday and he’s not been seen since.”
I looked at Sheila and caught her attention, “The guy you were in here with on Sunday morning when I came in to buy the sour cream?”
“Her husband,” Helen provided.
Sheila finally broke her silence, “That’s right,” she looked me up and down, “you were the one that was here. He never came back after he dropped those sour creams you wanted.” She started staring off into the distance again.
Faye leaned across the counter toward me and whispered, “She’s got it in her head that he either took off or he’s out there dead somewhere. Terry’s brother convinced her they needed to mount a search and rescue effort so that’s what’s going on this mornin’.”
I was shocked but I quickly gathered my wits and asked, “What can I do to help?”
Faye patted my wrist. “Nothing dear. We’ve got it under control in here and the searchers out there all know the county and, I dare say, Terry, pretty well. They’ll find him and he’s going to be just fine, just you wait and see.” She raised her voice a little for Sheila’s benefit and looked toward her on that last bit.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, of course. Now, tell me, what are you getting yourself into today with this plan of yours?”
I smiled, “I spent yesterday cleaning. They did a decent enough job when they moved in but, not like I do it.”
Faye nodded knowingly.
“Between you and me, I’ve slept in their bedroom the last couple of nights since they don’t have much furniture. They need some nice guest room and living room furniture but, that’s just such a lovely old place...all of the gorgeous woodwork; I just think they’d love to have a few choice antique or vintage feel pieces to show it all off, don’t you?”
“Oh my word, yes. You’re right.”
“I know my Dana’s tastes but I’m not sure about Mel’s...”
“Mel isn’t picky dear. She tends toward things that will last, like her father. Old and antique for some things will do just fine for her but she likes her comfort too.”
“It’s too bad you can’t come along with me. That would be fun and, you could keep me from making too many mistakes...Hopefully they find Mr. Ford soon and he’s alive and well.”
“I hope so too but, at least, I can give a couple of tips for now.”
“I’m all ears. Tell me where I should go.”
“Well, there are furniture stores in Zanesville, of course, and lots in Columbus too, if you want to go that far. There are Amish furniture makers dotted through the hills around here that you really should check out for wood pieces that will go well with the woodwork in the house and sit well with my daughter.”
“How would I find them?”
“That’s the problem; it’s easier to show you than to tell you. Maybe, we can go out together tomorrow for that. In the meantime, you should head north toward the turnoff for Zanesville, just before you get there, on the left side of this road, there’s a junk shop an old friend of Jesse’s owns, Dale Walters; Dingy Dale we call him.”
“Dingy Dale? That doesn’t sound too promising.”
“Oh, you might be surprised. You never know what you’ll find in Dale’s place and he’s harmless, just a little cuckoo.”
“What makes you say that?”
“He’s, what’s the word...’quirky’, I guess, and he’s always been full of odd ideas. Lately he’s been making what he calls art out of what everyone else calls junk. No one around here buys the stuff of course, but his place is always chock full of all sorts of odds and ends.”
“He usually opens around 9:00. By the time you’re done there, Lucy Sharpe’s antique shop will be open out on 146. Instead of turning left when you get to it to go into Zanesville, turn right and head toward Chandlersville. There’s signs. Her shop’s down about two miles on the right, before you get to the village. Sharpe’s Antiques; you’ll see it.”
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