R.C. helped the EMTs make certain the gurney straps were tight. Then he looked at his hands, casually wiped the blood on his pants, and asked, “Do you think he needs airlifting?”
“I don’t know. Once they clean him up and X-ray him, then they can tell,” the male EMT replied with a grunt as they lifted the gurney into the unit. The female EMT jumped in the back, and the guy slammed the doors.
“That’s Tanner Tillman…you know, from the football team?”
“No way?” he said, surprised. “Well, he’s in good hands now!”
R.C. looked in through the side window and saw the EMT placing an oxygen mask on Tanner’s blood-covered face. As the ambulance raced off, R.C. stood watching, listening.
“Three to Base,” R.C. finally called in.
“Go ahead, R.C.,” Martha replied.
“Is the sheriff there yet?”
“He’s walking in the door.”
R.C. dropped the car in gear and headed straight for the sheriff’s office. He had driven about a mile when the radio crackled.
“Base to Unit Three.”
“Unit Three.”
“What happened out there, R.C.?”
“Chief, I don’t know. I was ridin’ the roads near that camp and turned on the Dummy Line and about three miles down there were two vehicles but no people. I got out to check on things and found Tanner at the edge of the road.”
“What do you think happened to him…what’s your gut sayin’?”
“I think he got the crap beat out of him in a fight.”
“Not some kind of an accident?”
“No. This was on purpose.”
“Was anyone else there? What was the other vehicle?”
“I didn’t see anyone. The other truck looked familiar, but I can’t place it. I left so fast I didn’t look at the plates-sorry,” he added quickly.
“What’s your ETA?”
“Five minutes.”
“Hurry up,” the sheriff said, then stood.
Ollie poured himself a cup of coffee. Cream, three sugars. Martha was on the phone with the hospital. Ollie walked to his desk and sat down to look at a county map. His eyes drifted to the massive wilderness bordering the camp. Could these incidents be related? He planned to quiz R.C. and then go to the hospital to see the kid for himself.
R.C. ran in and plopped down in the chair in front of the sheriff’s desk. He was obviously proud of himself.
“Hey, Chief,” R.C. said, expecting accolades.
“R.C., do you think these, well, these two incidents are or could be related?”
“Tanner probably got into a fight over some girl or the baseball game, but if that’s what it was, the fight got way ugly. He had the crap beat out of him.”
“High school fights don’t get that brutal.” Ollie sipped his coffee. R.C. shrugged, then nodded tentatively in agreement.
They both looked up when they heard someone running down the hall. Martha rushed into the room with a panicked look on her face.
“Ollie, Tanner Tillman’s mother just told me that Tanner had a date tonight with Elizabeth Beasley…she’s asking where the Beasley girl is.”’
Ollie and Martha wheeled to R.C. His eyes got wide and he jumped up.
“Holy shit! That’s what he was trying to say…Elizabeth! She’s out there! I’m on my way!” R.C. yelled, racing down the hall.
Ollie grabbed his cowboy hat as he ran toward the door. “Who else is on duty tonight?” he asked, holding the door open.
“Larson and Shug,” Martha quickly responded.
“Have them meet me wherever R.C. is saying this happened. I’m on my way. Radio R.C. to slow down long enough for me to catch up. Tell them both no sirens, just lights.”
“Yes sir, Chief!” Martha replied. As soon as the door closed, she lit another cigarette.
Standing silently along the creek’s edge, Reese listened for his prey. His shortcut through the woods had worked. He was about half a mile from the Dummy Line. He could hear a vehicle speeding east. That has be Johnny Lee’s killer and his kid. He musta seen Tiny and Sweat and they flushed him back my way. If I coulda been here a few minutes earlier, I’da killed him as he drove by-just like shootin’ a rabbit. The killer had nowhere to run. There were only two ways out, and they were blocked. This guy’s screwed and payback’s comin’. Reese smiled at the thought.
Reese flipped open the phone, found Tiny’s number, and hit Send.
Beep-beep. No response.
Beep-beep. Again no response.
“Dammit,” he said aloud. Tiny never remembers to carry his phone. Hell, the lardass couldn’t even remember to turn it on. He drives me crazy. I gotta do all the thinkin’. I hate incompetence. Off to his right a pack of coyotes started howling.
Poaching and drinking while driving were Reese’s favorite pastimes, and most of the time he combined them. It had been several years since Reese had been poaching on this property. The timber was a bit bigger now, but he knew where he was and where he was going.
I’ll kill the kid first-that’ll really punish him-and then I’ll steal his truck, Reese thought. After everybody was back at Johnny Lee’s trailer, he could send Tiny to hide the truck until they could either paint it or fence it in Meridian. They’d have to get their story together and say Sweat shot Johnny Lee by accident as they were loading up to go turkey hunting. Nobody ever got convicted-or even charged-in a hunting accident. That made sense. Plus, they had the trump card-the killer’s old lady. That guaranteed cooperation. After they inflicted all sorts of pain and suffering on him and the woman, they’d simply shoot both of them between the eyes.
Reese knew to temper his revenge with caution. They needed to get out of here before daylight. He glanced at his fake Rolex and smiled; it was not quite 2:21 a.m. Time was on his side.
The shooting house was filthy. It was full of leaves, spider webs, and what appeared to be some sort of a nest in the far corner. Elizabeth felt around, hoping to find something useful. All she discovered was a hunting magazine, two empty Mountain Dew cans, an empty rifle cartridge, and one unopened can of what she thought was pork and beans. A swivel chair was in the opposite corner. She tried it but was more comfortable on the floor, with her foot elevated.
Slowly and silently she looked out the small opening again. Nothing, but she could hear a four-wheeler not too far off. She settled back down and wondered about Tanner. He fought for me and I ran. I had to, she told herself. It was killing her. She prayed that he was OK. She wanted to go home.
Suddenly she had an idea. She eased up on her knees to take another look down the road. The coast was clear. She took off her fleece jacket, then took off her shirt and tied one of the long sleeves into a knot at the wrist. She slid the can of beans into the arm. She twisted the shirt until it was tight, then put back on her fleece jacket, and zipped it up tight. I’m gonna fight like hell…like Tanner did, she thought, as she brushed her hair behind her ears and let out a deep breath.
She settled in to wait. After several minutes, she could hear someone walking on the road. On her knees, she peeked but couldn’t see him yet. Her heart was racing as she clenched her weapon. A little more than a hundred yards away, she began to see his outline coming toward her. Every few feet, he shined a small flashlight on the ground. She watched until he was almost to her when she realized that he was following her footprints. She wanted to scream. How could I be so stupid? She was cornered.