The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist

  The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist

  The Great Appalachian Cafe Heist

  by Tara Gabor

  Dedicated to my grandmothers

  Rosie & Callie

  Earthgirl Publications

  Copyright © by Tara Gabor 2011

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, Earthgirl Publications.

  FIRST EDITION: March 2012

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, either living or dead, is coincidental.

  www.taragabor.com

  cover design by Tim Salber

  ISBN 978-0-9850890-0-9

  Dedicated to my Grandmothers

  Rosie & Callie

  Chapter 1

  May, 1970

  Kyle Kinnard was hungry. His stomach was making grumbling sounds, and he didn’t like that at all.

  He left Lexington earlier than usual, before the sky lightened or birds chirped and before breakfast. As itinerant dentist for the University of Kentucky, he was used to traveling to many small villages in the mountains. However, this morning he was apprehensive about the day’s assignment. The University had developed a circuit that Kyle visited during the spring and summer months. Today’s trip was different. The University had not picked the location, and the community was not on the established route. Apparently, the university had received a summons from a woman claiming a child needed services and she could not bring the child into Lexington, nor could she wait until Kyle returned to Beattyville. The child needed attention now, and the program’s director had sent Kyle to Flatsburg for the day. Kyle was suspicious of anything out of the ordinary, things not in the routine or the orderly scheme of his life. Routines equaled control, and Kyle liked having control.

  He glanced at his written directions again. State road 11 was a comfortable road he was now familiar with, but this morning he needed to detour from the paved two-lane road somewhere past Natural Bridge State Resort Park. The gloom lifted enough, and Kyle found the signpost to Flatsburg. The road was narrow and curved gently up the mountain, but the surface was even and paved. Kyle was thankful for a good road. He drove a full-length school bus, customized by the University of Kentucky into a functioning dental office on wheels.

  Less than an hour later Kyle arrived at the three-stop intersection listed on his directions. The morning was new, but lights were on in the cafe sitting at the center of the intersection. Kyle breathed a sigh of relief and anticipation, having skipped breakfast for this exercise. He eased the rolling dental laboratory into the parking lot of the restaurant, parking along the windowless south wall. His stomach churned with expectation of a hot meal. Kyle stepped out of the bus into a cool mountain morning, stretching his tall frame after the drive. Down the road from the cafe he could see the church where he would meet his patient. An unseen rooster crowed in a nearby farmyard.

  Now that Kyle had found the hamlet, he felt the most difficult task of the day was behind him. Entering the Mountaintop Cafe, Kyle thought, “What have I got to worry about? What could possibly go wrong on such a lovely day?”

  The morning sky was lightening up with an easygoing breeze, a good morning for a visit to a new locale. Like a number of spots in the mountains, the crossroads where Kyle stood appeared isolated. No other motor vehicle had yet to pass by. Yet a small population of people lived nearby, and all of them had risen, dressed, and were beginning their day. Most of them tended farms and would not take the time or spend the money to come to the diner for breakfast on a normal weekday.

  Kyle entered the diner and picked the booth close to the door.

  He ordered eggs, over easy, dry wheat toast, and black coffee. The waitress, whose nametag read “Sally”, listened, not using the pad in her hand. She delivered the order to someone in the kitchen, bringing a coffee mug and a small glass of orange juice back to the table.

  “You’re the dentist,” she stated rather than asked. “You drove that bus up the mountain this morning. Heard you were coming, though.”

  Kyle nodded and looked askance at the unordered glass of juice.

  “We never did have a dentist here before. But we drink our orange juice. Good for teeth.”

  The diner was small, but clean and bright, a beacon to hungry travelers on an Appalachian mountaintop near Fillmore in Lee County. He should have known the locals would be aware of his trip.

  Kyle chose not to comment on the dental applications of orange juice.

  “I work for the University of Kentucky in an itinerancy program to reach out to remote areas.” It was the waitress’ turn to look sideways. “Itinerant means traveling. The bus outside is a fully equipped dental office that goes where the patients are.”

  “How much does it cost?” Appalachians, Kyle found, were suspicious of professionals and their fees, especially lawyers, but doctors as well, sometimes forgoing the established medical community for arcane practitioners. More than once Kyle had fought to improve the perception of modern medicine held by Appalachians. The more remote the town, the more dismissive the people’s attitudes were towards “store bought medicine.”

  Kyle glanced around, checking to see if other customers might need Sally’s attention. He was the sole customer and decided to give Sally the long explanation.

  “We provide basic exams, x-rays, cleanings, and education at no charge. I’m a graduate dental student. That means I am a dentist but I am a few months short of receiving my D.D.S., Doctor of Dental Surgery. Dental health is associated with overall health. The University believes many parts of Appalachia are underserved. Dentists don’t move to remote locations to open offices. The itinerant program began last year. Patients in Lexington and the surrounding area come into our facility on campus. But the University was aware that many people who could use our services would not be willing to travel to Lexington. So they took three school buses and customized them. I have a fully automated dental chair and state of the art tools in an office on wheels.”

  “Miz May is pretty good at doctoring around here. But I guess if the University sent ya, ya might be worth a try.”

  Before Kyle could respond to her comment, four men entered the restaurant, and Sally addressed the newcomers while making eye contact with Kyle, letting him know the conversation he was currently in was now at an end.

  “Mornin’. Be right with ya. Sit anywhere you like,” she said.

  The tattered group did not move towards a table, all standing still with hands stuffed inside pant or coat pockets. Sally turned and gasped at the group facing her, each face partially obscured by a bandana wrapped around their head, covering their nose and mouth.

  The front man shifted weight to his left leg and raised his right hand, still inside a worn cloth jacket, pointing a gun-shaped brown mass at Sally.

  “No need for menus, ma’am. We want the register money. To go.” He grinned, the bandana stretching with his lips. His fellow miscreants nodded.

  “Well, there ain’t much in the register so early on a weekday. You come back after the lunch hour rush and it might be worth the trouble of a hold-up,” Sally said. She might have encountered robbing quartets on a routine basis with her calm reply, Kyle thought.

  The man’s grin faded. He cocked his head back towards his accomplices. An older man nudged the younger. Faces aged quickly in the mountains, but Kyle detected a resemblance between the men. This man, displaying patriarchic authority, could be the eldest,
related to the others.

  “We’ll take it now,” menaced the lead man.

  As one, the group took a menacing step forward. Sally nodded, now looking shaken. “Sure thing, then,” Sally agreed. She said nothing more while she opened the register and withdrew all of the bills, counting quickly and quietly as she placed the bills in a white to-go bag.

  She handed the bundle to the front man, trying not to look straight at him. Kyle collected as much detail as he could, also without looking directly at them. He counted and cataloged stains on their trousers, listened closely to speech, not just for the meaning, but tone and inflection, and he made note of hair color, fingernails and hand mannerisms.

  “How much is it?” the putative gun-toting man asked.

  Kyle choked back a laugh. The four-man crew waited on her answer. They mostly had ignored Kyle altogether. A careless laugh at this point could turn the peaceful heist into something else.

  “Sixty-two dollars. We only open with fifty bucks in the till. I’ve only served three customers this morning.”

  The pause hung in the air. The thieves must be disappointed, Kyle thought. They might have expected a huge haul. Regardless of whatever situation they found themselves, committing armed robbery, risking incarceration, they surely had dreamed of a bigger reward before plotting their caper.

  “Those three sure spent big, though,” Sally said.

  “Brilliant,” Kyle thought, make sixty-two dollars sound bigger than it is. Maybe they had not even anticipated an amount.

  Sally’s gambit seemed to work. A grin spread on the front man’s face as he clutched the paper bag, pushing it toward the older man Kyle figured for the father figure and boss of the gang, who smiled, accepting the loot. The older man lifted his gaze to Sally, his smile suddenly cold and stern.

  “And coffee. Fill the thermos,” the boss man said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Kyle looked from the boss to Sally, back to the boss. Sally moved behind the counter and reached for a pot of coffee. She removed the top of the thermos and poured coffee in one smooth motion. She replaced the top and handed the full thermos back to the man.

  Would the man be satisfied? Had he calculated how far the money would last the foursome? Kyle held his breath. He heard the breathing of the gunman, than a bell dinged from the kitchen at the end of the dining room. Kyle’s breakfast order was ready.

  All four men jerked their heads towards the sound. Kyle watched the front man’s hand, worried he would reveal the weapon, but that did not happen. The hand holding the firearm remained covered in the coat pocket, drooping slightly. Perhaps the threat of a handgun was only that – a threat, a simple feint without a real weapon. Kyle allowed himself to breathe again, slowly, quietly, and nearly silently. Then the boss cut his eyes towards Kyle.

  “Wallet. Now.”

  Kyle fished the brown suede wallet from his pocket. None of the robbers made a move. Kyle hoped to make things easier for them and held the wallet out as an offering to whichever robber wished to take it. The boss gave the younger man in front of him a soft shove in his shoulder, and he grabbed the billfold from Kyle’s hand.

  Would they leave now or would there be trouble if the cook came looking for Sally? Perhaps the cook kept a firearm in the kitchen, and, if so, the situation could escalate quickly.

  The bell rang again.

  “Order up,” a deep voice called from the kitchen.

  Sally glanced shyly at the small group huddled in front of her, unable to speak, hoping they would leave.

  The man Kyle figured for the brains of the operation did not move. The other three men moved their heads slightly, all in his direction, confirming the impression that the older man was the alpha male, the pack leader for the band of robbers. With a brusque jerk of his head, the leader signaled retreat and turned towards the door. His pack silently followed.

  The bell over the restaurant door tinkled merrily. The heist was complete.

  “Oh my gosh!” Sally’s hand flew to her mouth.

  “You’re okay,” Kyle said, using a soothing tone he practiced on his more nervous patients.

  “Sally, order up. What gives out here?”

  A man emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate with Kyle’s breakfast. Average height, with shoulders as broad as he was tall, he presented a square appearance. He bounded the distance from kitchen to table, placing the plate in front of Kyle.

  “If that’s not hot enough, I’ll redo it, sir,” he stated, turning to Sally his tone softened. “Sally? Are you okay? Didn’t you hear the bell? I rang twice.”

  “Donny Joe,” she gulped, collapsing in his arms.

  Donny Joe wrapped his tree-like arms around the woman. His eyes widened, and he implored Kyle without words for an answer.

  “Four men just took all the money from your register,” Kyle said plainly.

  “Wha? Who? Did they hurt you?” he pulled Sally back, searching her face.

  “No, no. But I’m scared. They could come back.” She shivered, seeking comfort in her husband’s strong arms.

  Kyle offered to call the police and used the pay phone in the corner, unsure if dialing 9-1-1 this far up a mountain would render the usual result. After a few moments, Kyle heard the expected, “What is your emergency?” With few words, he explained the situation and requested police response.

  After relaying an urgent, all-units-respond request to the restaurant, the dispatcher addressed Kyle, asking, “Are Sally and Donny Joe okay? Can they talk?”

  Kyle assured the 9-1-1 operator no one was injured, but passed the phone to Donny Joe. Sally slipped into the seat across from Kyle, resting her chin in her hands, her eyes passing between Kyle and the substantial cook. Sirens rang from several directions, converging on the mountainside eatery. The last of the morning mist was evaporating. It looked to be the beginning of a beautiful day.

  “Thanks, Mary Beth. I don’t rightly know what happened. They were silent varmints. I was in the kitchen through the entire hold-up. You come by after a while, okay? Sally is shook up now, but she’ll be okay later on.”

  Ten deputies and the sheriff entered the dining room, filling the modest space as if the day’s blue plate special were Christmas dinner and free to the first one hundred customers. Sheriff Charlie Bates delegated tasks swiftly, scattering deputies in several directions. He then approached Kyle and introduced himself.

  “I’m Charlie Bates, sheriff for the county. We don’t have many robberies of this sort. Sorry your first impression of our community is so negative.”

  “Unfortunately crimes like this happen all the time in the city, Sheriff. You have a large force. I doubt many crooks would be so bold to risk a robbery in your jurisdiction. I bet you’ll catch them this morning.”

  “Our population is small, but the county covers a large area. Lots of farmland and undeveloped woods to patrol. I have a force sufficient for the area. Sally and Donny Joe are good people. I wager every deputy I’ve got has enjoyed too many meals here. I know I have. When the call went out, every deputy in the vicinity responded, whether on or off duty. But no,” he shook his head, “too many places to hide on a mountain as long as they want to hide.”

  Sheriff Bates turned Kyle over to Deputy Smith, separating him and Sally into separate interviews. Deputy Smith spoke patiently and wrote extensive notes, allowing Kyle bites of food between questions. Donny Joe toured the restaurant with Sheriff Bates.

  Kyle answered all the questions, supplying enough detail that Deputy Smith complimented him on his observation.

  “You aren’t law enforcement, are you?”

  “No, Deputy, just a dentist.”

  “Right. I heard Miz May was expecting you. Surprised all of us she would call on a bona fide medical school dentist, but she loves her young ‘uns. Folks tell some tall tales about her, but I don’t put much truck in any of ‘em. Some people are just superstitious. I say a woman who takes in orphans and shares what little she has with them, well, I say that’s a g
ood hearted woman. Just because she doesn’t attend church on Sundays with everyone else round here doesn’t make her a witch or give her special powers, now does it? Simply makes her a woman with her own beliefs, I suspect.”

  “Uh-huh. She sounds like an interesting character.”

  “Oh, she’s just a woman like most others around here. Self-reliant. Resourceful. She has a way with tending to the ills and hurts of children, as any mother does. I don’t pay no never mind to the talk about spells and magic powers.” The deputy shook his head with a small smile. Kyle nodded in agreement. Magic powers.

  “Now, I understand they took your wallet. How much money would you say you had in there?”

  “Not much. I went to the bank yesterday before coming up here. I didn’t figure I would need much, but I always like to be prepared.”

  “Naturally.”

  “I’d say no more than thirty dollars.”

  The deputy’s eyes widened, but he made no comment.

  “Driver’s license? Credit cards?”

  “Normally I carry a driver’s license, but I keep it in the office.”

  The deputy lifted his eyebrows at that, his pencil in mid-air.

  “I mean my dental office outside, the bus.” Kyle cocked his head in the general direction of the vehicle.

  “Oh, sure. I see.”

  “I don’t carry credit cards with me. I prefer cash.”

  “Yes, we established that. Anything else of value in the wallet?”

  “A wedding photo. The wallet itself was a birthday gift from my wife.”

  “Ah. We will certainly work to apprehend these fellers as soon as possible and return your money.” He tapped pencil to notepad. “I believe I have everything I need for now. Miz May’ll be looking for ya, so you can go on down to the community church. If I need anything more I’ll look for ya there. I wouldn’t want Miz May’s voodoo on us.”