you don’t remember.”
Martha frowned. “Twenty years ago. I was gone by then. I was off being an army wife in some godforsaken little town close to Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Husband number one.”
“I forgot. You wouldn’t know about the case then.”
“Who is it they’re executing?”
“Fate Harkryder. I arrested him. Testified against him. And he got the death penalty. He’s been sitting on death row in a Nashville prison ever since. Lord, I haven’t thought of him in ages. And now this.”
“What did he do?”
“Murder.”
He had been planning to leave it at that, but Martha’s expression told him that the discussion wouldn’t be over until he told her the rest. He sighed. “He killed two hikers from the Appalachian Trail. Boy and girl—college students from the University of North Carolina. He was ROTC; she was a colonel’s daughter. Honor students. They were very clean-cut and attractive kids. They were worth ten of him.”
In his mind he could hear Nelse Miller’s voice. He might as well have killed Donny and Marie.The Osmonds. Spencer had nearly forgotten them, too.
“Apparently he ambushed them at their campsite while they were sleeping. He tortured the boy. We . . .” He didn’t want to remember about the burn marks. “And he raped the girl before he killed her. Mutilated the body. I think that’s what really got him the death penalty. The jury looked at pictures of that smiling girl with the big calf’s eyes, and then at what was left of her in the crime scene photos. . . .” He shrugged.
He took a deep breath and wished he hadn’t started talking about the case, because he had tried hard to forget what he had seen that day. He didn’t want to picture the remnants of bodies he’d found at that campsite. He hadn’t had that nightmare in a long time. And now he would.
“I don’t remember this,” said Martha. “What were their names?”
“Her name was Emily Stanton. I can’t remember his.”
Martha shook her head. “The name doesn’t mean anything to me. I sure do remember the Harkryders, though. They were memorable, every single one of them. How many were there? I lost count.”
Spencer smiled. “Seemed like dozens, though some of them were cousins of the other ones. Nobody talked family with the Harkryders. If you were kin to them, you wouldn’t claim it. Tom was the one in our class, wasn’t he? I don’t think he started out with us, though. We caught up with him.”
“Mean as a striped snake. Which doesn’t say much to distinguish him from the rest of the litter. Which one was Fate?”
“Lafayette Harkryder. The youngest. There isn’t much to say about him. He was only seventeen when it happened. I guess he’s been in prison now longer than he was out in the world. Funny, in my mind, I still see him as a skinny teenage boy. He must be middle-aged by now, at least in prison years. You age fast in there. I probably wouldn’t know him if I saw him.”
“And you arrested him back then?”
Spencer nodded. “My first murder case. I was a deputy for Nelse Miller, and the bodies were found late one night on my watch. . . . Fate Harkryder . . . I’d almost forgotten about him. I fretted over it enough at the time, though. I guess I never thought it would come to this.”
“Well, I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you,” said Martha. “In the first place, I’m sure he has it coming to him, and in the second place, the way they mollycoddle criminals these days, I doubt very much that he’ll keep that date with the executioner. He’s probably got a roomful of lawyers writing appeals on everything they can think of. Trust me. An execution hasn’t happened in Tennessee in thirty-some years, and it won’t happen now.”
“Maybe you’re right, Martha.”
“Of course I am. Now, I have to get back on patrol, so I’m going to leave. You’re sure you’re all right?”
He nodded. “Just a shock to the system, that’s all.”
“But I worry about you being stuck up here on this ridge all alone. Thank the Lord it’s not winter. Is there anything I can bring you?”
“Yes,” said Spencer. “I’d like you to bring me the case file on Fate Harkryder.”
Martha sighed. “You’re going to wear yourself out worrying about this thing, aren’t you?”
“No. I promise I’ll go easy. I just want to refresh my memory. And, Martha—one other thing. Have you ever heard of Frankie Silver?”
The