As I approached the tree line, I looked ahead to the boat and Ida Belle glanced back and shook her head to let me know they hadn’t spotted a structure yet. Of course, we were assuming he had one. It was a rare individual who chose to sleep rough, but I couldn’t completely discount the possibility. A minimum of a tarp or some other material to keep him dry would be needed, but that could easily be camouflaged in the thick brush.
I eased into the trees, scanning the area for any sign of life and listening for movement other than the normal swamp sounds or the boat. If I was indeed tracking the hermit, then he’d been out here for a long time and had learned to move silently in order to hunt and to avoid being hunted. I didn’t think for a minute that he could take me in a fair fight, but he could easily position himself with coverage and shoot me. I was in his Vietnam.
I was about fifty yards into the brush when I heard the faint rustling off to my left. Since there was no breeze, I knew it was something with a heartbeat causing the sound. I froze and crouched, trying to pinpoint the location of the noise, but then a man’s voice boomed out.
“You ain’t hiding. Best get out the same way you came. I got a 12-gauge pointed at you.”
I stood, my hands over my head, and locked in on the hermit, tucked behind a cypress tree about fifteen yards away.
“Are you the man who lives out here? Sometimes buys stuff at the store in Mudbug?”
“Ain’t no business of yours.”
“No, sir, but I’m hoping you can help me.”
“Ain’t got no dealings with the outside unlessin’ I need supplies.”
“A young girl has been found in the swamp near Sinful. She’s hurt and can’t remember who she is. We think she might have been part of the Brethren. A lady in Mudbug said you might know where to find them.”
“You a cop?”
“No, sir. I’m a private investigator, and I’d like to help the girl. If she was trying to escape the Brethren, I don’t want to see her go back there. And she was too young to be out in the swamp on her own. I’m worried that her mother is still out there or that whoever they were running from caught up to her.”
He stepped out from behind the tree but didn’t lower his shotgun.
Seventy if he was a day but looked older. Six foot tall, even with the slight hunch in his spine. Probably arthritis and I imagine he dealt with quite a bit of pain. No threat hand to hand, but the shotgun had a wide blast radius.
“You think a woman was running from the Brethren with her daughter?” he asked.
“It’s a theory, and right now, the only one we’ve got. No one locally knows who she is, and no missing persons reports have been filed that match her description. But we think she might be related to a woman who went missing years ago, and the Mudbug lady who told me about you thought that woman was part of the Brethren. Lottie Pendarvis is the woman’s name who told me about you. Do you know her?”
He frowned, then nodded. “Sounds familiar. I think one of her kinfolk used to help down at the store in Mudbug.”
“Her nephew. Anyway, she said she’d seen you talking to some of the Brethren once when they came for supplies and since you probably know this swamp better than anyone, you might know where to find them.”
I heard footsteps behind me, and then Ida Belle’s voice called out. “Fortune? You all right? We’ve been calling.”
Crap. I’d turned my phone on silent when I jumped onto the bank and had turned off vibrate as well.
“I’m good!” I yelled. “Go grab the supplies, will you?”
“Who’s that?” the man asked, tightening his grip on the shotgun.
“Friends who are helping me. Ida Belle and Gertie from Sinful, and a male friend of mine. Retired. We brought some supplies with us in case we found you—some jugs of water, casting net, rope, tarps—thought it might help out a bit, especially if you were willing to talk to us.”
“You tell them not to come close or I’ll blast all of you.”
“We’ll stay over here, I promise. Do you have a name? Mine is Fortune.”
“Hadn’t had use for one in a while, but people used to call me Spinner.”
“That has to do with fishing, right? I’m fairly new around here and just learning all the fishing jargon. Do you mind if I put my arms down?”
“Go ahead, but don’t you move fast.”
I heard footsteps behind me again and called out. “Approach slowly. I’m talking with Mr. Spinner, and he’s armed and needs to be sure we’re not here to make trouble.”
A couple seconds later, the three of them emerged from the woods and into the small clearing near me, their arms full of goods.
“See,” I said to Spinner, and pointed to the items. “I’m going to have them put everything down and then we’ll talk. And I’ve got some money for you if you’re willing to help.”
Spinner didn’t appear remotely concerned about Ida Belle and Gertie, but he locked in on Blanchet and studied him for a long time before nodding. If he hadn’t been pointing a shotgun at me, I would have been amused that he considered the three women the less lethal of the group.
“Don’t know for sure where they live at,” he said. “But don’t matter none. No womenfolk need to go messing with the Brethren. If a woman done run off from them with her kid, you should pay attention and leave them well enough alone.”
“You think they’re abusing women?”
“I think they abuse anyone who don’t toe the line. And with religious folk, that line can be a murky mess. People ain’t got limits when they sure God is behind ’em.”
“That’s true enough. But if this woman ran and they found her, we’d like to help her and her daughter. We’re afraid the Brethren will come after her, and if the girl becomes a ward of the state, she’ll be easy enough for the Brethren to take back.”
He stared at us for a long time, and I could tell he was still confused by the entire situation but also tempted by the goods we’d brought. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll tell you what I know, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. The Brethren ain’t gonna tolerate people trespassing. They ain’t gonna ask questions like me.”
“I understand. But we have to take that chance…for the girl’s sake.”
“Can’t tell you no exact names of places—probably ain’t the same anymore since I stopped fishing that area—so you’ll have to make note of the landmarks I give you. That will get you to a place where I seen them working trout lines. I figure they don’t stray too far away from home for the gas savings, but I could be wrong. They stopped everything when I pulled by and stared at me until I drove off. I recognized one of them as the man I talked to at the store one day.”
“What did you talk about, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“He asked me about my bait. Brought a thirty-pound black drum to the store to trade and he was wanting to know how I caught ’em. I told him what I was using and he just turned around and left. Not so much as a nod.”
“And that was the man you saw in the boat that day working trout lines.”
He nodded. “It were him and a younger one. Not more than a boy, really. The boy looked scared but the man stared right through me. I lived in these swamps a long time and they ain’t much I’m afraid of. But I wouldn’t go messin’ with the Brethren. Hadn’t been back to that area since.”