The thing about being convicted of murder is you meet different people. Like Dave, but I didn’t know about him by that name, I knew him as Wei Wu Wei. That was funny. I called him from River Bend prison more than a few times, wondering what Fear the Hills was about. He asked me what I thought the truth was. So, I told him
I believe the Bible is where we find the truth and the reason is that it has scripture such as – sanctify them by the truth, your word is truth. So, that tells us an answer, the truth is in the word. If you continue in my word you will know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.
So, I believe that’s where we find the truth.
There’s another verse that says we will be judged by.
The one who rejects me and does not receive my words has a judge; the word that I have spoken will judge him on the last day.
That’s where we find the truth.
If we learn this and apply it to our lives, we are liberated – from sin, we find a better way – the best way. And that’s God’s way. And I believe that with all my heart.
And listen to me, there’s a verse that says – keep your heart with all diligence and be careful what you allow in it.
If we are not in line with God’s word, we will be sincerely wrong.
And God is just. He’s not just this merciful loving God — he is that, but he is more than that – he is Just.
I stopped there and he laughed, then so did I. I mean, of course I know that’s not the truth about what happened on Mellissa Rock road the night Malcolm was murdered. But I have no idea what that truth is because I wasn’t there. I don’t know the people that testified against me. The truth I know is being here in prison for something I don’t understand and never did. How do I explain that, to me or anyone else, how that could happen?
So, my days, when I wake up, I wake up here with this truth, knowing only God can free me today, and show me the truth today. Only God can do that for me because people have failed.
I remember after going to the Sheriff and telling him I didn’t do this and him saying “it will probably all get cleared up,” when he took my car and my clothes for testing for blood or DNA. I remember that, and how they found no blood or DNA but somehow the prosecutor made that not matter, saying this is not like on TV like CSI. Is that truth? What I know is the Sheriff’s people stole my daddies golf clubs from the car. I remember that. That’s truth because they were gone. I don’t even know how to think about that, I mean how can you trust the Sheriffs’ who go through your car just to steal stuff. Doesn’t seem like they’re looking for truth doing that.
Wei Wu Wei then told me deputy Lonnie Cleek played a lot of golf. Damn
I remember the first hearing. I knew it was someone thought I killed Malcolm, that’s what I thought. But it was so strange, I am sitting next to Flossy Davis, the lawyer momma hired, and up to the stand come this woman, and she started talking about some guy who came to the door and asked Malcolm to help him with his car. And how he left with this man but never came back. I felt sorry for her.
But then she said the man came back alone and started beating her, and how her son heard her screaming and ran up and chased the man away. Again, I felt sorry for her. I didn’t know who this man was she was talking about, you know. I was thinking about where Malcolm might have gone to. Maybe he drove off to Tracy or some friends house and should have stayed around to protect his sister from this man who was up to no good.
But I was in shock about what happened next. When the prosecutor went to her.
“Miss Becky, is the man who beat you sitting in the court room?”
I turned my head around putting my eyes around the room, seeing if this man was here becasuse I could then tell the judge I didn’t know him, which is true, and that would be that.
“Yes, he is sitting right there.” said Becky.
I looked back around and saw she was pointing at me. I shook my head no! I was in shock is all I can say, and have been ever since.
Chris, my sister, she moved back with momma after my conviction and they sent me to River Bend in Nashville. She took a job at Dr. Trussler’s office in Manchester and what kind of strange coincidence is it that his father was the jury foreman for my trial.
Lots of strange things, but I’m like you, I just learn things as they come.
After being convicted I had no idea what just happened, but there was lots of time to look at papers from my case file to try to find out. Some papers as strange as can be. Like who is Wanda Desmerais, and why is she saying I killed some nurse’s horses with Malcolm. I mean, I knew who Malcolm was, and seen him around a couple times, but we didn’t know each other like friends, and no one I know could tell you we been seen together. By that time, I worked at UPS a county away and hung out with Tiffany mainly. I’d only gone up there for a rare visit with old friends from Highschool days. So where is this Wanda getting this information? Saying I’m helping Malcolm kill horses. And what does horses have to do with anything anyway.
“Wanda was a Burrows,” said We Wu Wei, “she is now deceased.” This was from one of those times I called Wei.
“Other names in this packet of snitch letters as I call them are Burrows too. Rachel Crabtree is a Burrows and her daughter Roxanne is Burrows too.” Said Wei.
Roxanne’s name was on a bunch of papers, I did notice that.
“If you ask me,” continued Wei, “it looks like this Wanda thought since brother Malcolm killed nurse Krista’s horses, that would point the murder to someone she didn’t want it pointing it to.”
“So she just threw your name in the horse killing.”
“What horse killing?” I said.
“Whatever Horse killing they are talking about.”
“It don’t make sense.”
“No it doesn’t, as for one thing, it’s absurd. As if you were helping Malcolm killing horses one day why would you be killing him the next.”
“I don’t know anything about any horses!” I said to Wei, and I didn’t. None of this was talked about at the trial.
“Oh, I’m not saying you do, just reading.”
“Very.” He paused. “Do you see this name here, Killer Alan Meeks?”
“Hold on,” I said, leafing through the pages, “Yeah, I see it.”
“Well I talked to woman up there who had a story about that, you want to hear it?”
“Sure.” I said.
“I will read you what she wrote down.”
“Alan was looking for a place to dump the body in an area he was familiar with. The backroads of what is called Paynes Cove, where my parents also grew up, was littered with caves. I can only assume that he was headed for the cave at the end of Charlie Roberts Rd, down in Spring Cove. Named after the spring that runs out of Spring Cave. This cave is big enough to hide a mobile home in. In case of invasion of the US, that is where you will find me. When he more than likely couldn’t get down the muddy road leading to the cave on private property due to the rain that had been falling all day. He had returned out of Paynes Cove to go down Cahpman’s Chapel Rd where he knew that Wonder Cave and some smaller caves were more easily accessible. But fate was not so kind to Alan Meeks, he had an alternator that didn’t want to comply.
He knocked on my door, in the dark with no one else there, pointed to the car in the driveway and the guy still in passenger seat. I came out and opened the garage door and got the jumper cables out and hooked his car to my son’s sitting beside it.
I talked to him a while, asking what he was doing with this obviously strange person. He told me he was an acquaintance down from Nashville. I asked him what they were doing, he tried to dodge me but I got right with him and told him I knew he was on something. He then admitted to me that he had been doing a little bit of everything but mainly pills, and yes that included meth again. I spent the next hour or so trying to talk him into treatment the next morning. I assured him that he was not going far before his battery died again and that he needed to go home for the night. He said that he would but went down Chapman’s Chapel Rd instead, the opposite direction. I waited, I knew he would call again.
When he did, he asked me if I had another battery I would sell him, I said no and that he should call my daughter, I told him I would be right there. I left without the jumper cables. When I reached them, they had pulled into an old man’s driveway that lived about a half mile behind me. I told him I forgot the jumper cables and asked if he had any. He didn’t answer because he was on the phone with my daughter. I walked over to him where he stood inside the driver’s door and reached for the button to open the trunk. He closed the phone and then slammed the door so hard I had little time to keep my arm out of it. I looked up at him, and the Stranger standing behind the car at the trunk and they were both looking at me with suspicion. I had no idea why. Alan then turned his head in the Stranger’s direction and shook it as if to say, “no”. Alan said that he had talked to a mutual friend that lived just down the road, and that friend was going to let him have a battery out of his truck for the night.
I later found out he lied. But I took him to that friend’s house and sat in the car while he looked under the hoods of every car and truck in the driveway. He came away empty handed. While Alan was looking for the supposed loaner battery, I thought to get out and check in the trunk of my son’s car to see if he had a set of cables. He did. I hollered at Alan and told him I found a set and he returned to the car to go back to his car and the Stranger.
When we got there, the hood was already up on his car, I pulled bumper to bumper with it, and got out and hooked up the cables. We sat there about 15 mins just to get it running and I followed them back towards my house. Just at the bottom of the hill of my yard, where the stop sign ends at Clouse Hill Rd, Chapman’s Chapel, and Payne’s Cove Rd, we sat on the side of the road and charged it one last time for about an hour.
During that time it continued to drizzle rain, I continued to try to talk Alan into going home and into rehab in the morning. While we talked like old friends, Alan and I comfortable with each other’s company. Yet the Stranger and I uncomfortable and suspicious of each other’s company.
They rolled and smoked a joint like no one cared. I didn’t care for sure, other than the fact that it is still illegal here and if cops came along we were all in big trouble. I just didn’t know how much. I had no idea that the body of Alan’s cousin Jeff Meeks was in the trunk of Alan’s car.
And God was with me that night. Protecting me for having a mothering heart to be helping a friend of one of my children with bad alternator and a dead battery in the middle of a rainy, cool, very dark and scary night.
Alan left with the Stranger without further ado, hugged me like a momma to him, and promised to call me in the morning. He did call me in the morning about rehab and who would take him without insurance.
I was searching for charity help for Alan when my daughter called. She asked if I had heard from Alan that morning. I told her yes that we had talked earlier and the outcome of that conversation, when she told me that she needed to go see his aunt that lived next door to him. Because another friend had called to tell her that Alan had been arrested for Jeff’s murder.
When we got there, we consoled the Aunt, and promised to help her any way we could. We cried with her, hugged and parted ways. When I got home I called the Sheriff and told him what had taken place the night before with the car and the Stranger. The Sheriff assured me that Alan had the body in the car all night while I helped them. The Sheriff wanted to know if I touched the car and where.
I told The Sheriff everything I could remember. Including a bottle of oil I had given Alan to put in the motor which he never did, it still laid in the back seat of the car with my prints on it, where Alan had thrown it. Sheriff Myers had let the Stranger and accomplice go within an hour of arresting Alan.
Myers did not care that this man had tried all night to help Alan hide the body and may have had a hand in Jeff’s death. The Sheriff didn’t care that the Stranger knew me, knew where I lived, and knew I could testify to his help that night in attempting to cover up Jeff’s murder. I never heard from the Sheriff again. Thank God I never heard from the Stranger either.
Alan was a tortured soul. And Jeff tortured him until he cracked. The morning we arrived and took Baby Girl, Alan’s cat home with us, we looked around where the cops had barely looked around and left. The house was literally turned upside down. And not from the cops. It was that way from those three men living there. They had fought, got high, fought for months. The small one car garage outside had literally hundreds of prescription pill bottles strewn on the dirt floor. The house was not much better. It looked like what I would expect a crack house to look like.
Me and my husband’s best friend was a jailor after returning from 3 tours in Iraq. He told us how things were at Grundy Jail. He had to quit due to the constant stimulation of his ptsd. He could not cope in that environment even as a jailor. The Sheriff, his wife, nearly everyone there was on the take or crooked in some way. Some people got privileges some didn’t, I am sure that those letters he wrote on Adam got him many favors for a short period
You have to understand the area. We lived there at the very foot of the mountain, of Clouse Hill. In the intersection in that cove with the the Big Spring. A place where I was brought every time we visited family to get fresh spring water to take back home in Smyrna where I was raised. It was by this time, a place where the drunks stopped to piss, vomit, drink some more, leave their trash for my husband and I to pick up because we hated to see it ruined. It was a fond memory of my and my children’s upbringings. But it just become a drug trade and drinking spot. Alan more than likely had noticed trouble when he stopped at the stop sign and limped on what power he had left to my driveway. He still had a light in the headlights and interior when I opened the hood.
I have often, thought, worried, dreamed about that night and what could have happened.
I think they thought they had it made, they were gonna bury or hide that body in a cave where it would never be found. And when they had car trouble, right they had to fine a unknowing soul and get what they could even if it meant another body. Only later to abandon that mission.
I truly believed that Alan loved my daughter so much that he could not allow this guy to hurt me if it was in his power. He could not live with the idea that he had caused that kind of pain to her had I been murdered too. I truly believe he saved my life by slamming that car door shut and interrupting me opening the trunk that night. Or I would surely been in there right along with Jeff.”
“Wow,” I said, “when was that?” I asked.
“Couple months before Malcolm was killed. Sound familiar, guys with car trouble?”
“True, But Alan would be in jail.”
“Yeah, but I wonder who this guy from up north was who just disappeared.”
That was right when my time was up to talk, which they let you know you have like ten seconds to wrap it.
“Talk again soon, hang in there Adam.”
“You too brother.”