Blood Money (Joe Dillard Series No. 6) (22 page)

“Sheriff Peale,” Leon barked, “if you think I’m going to let you come into my county and act like a Nazi, you’re a fool. In ten seconds I’m going to draw my weapon, and if that shotgun isn’t stowed and your men aren’t packing up, I swear on the blood of my beloved lord and savior Jesus Christ I’ll shoot you where you stand.”

Leon’s deputies, as though on command, fanned out, put their hands on their weapons, and faced Peale’s deputies. My throat tightened and my stomach cramped ever so slightly. If this turned into a shootout, Leon and his men would be slaughtered. I looked at Peale, at the barrel of the shotgun. It was shaking.

“Ten,” Leon said, “nine, eight, seven…” I watched as Leon’s fingers wrapped around the pistol grip. “…six, five, four—”

Peale lowered the shotgun.

“Leon, this is crazy,” he said. “You don’t want to shoot me and I don’t want to shoot you.”

“Tell your men to stand down,” Leon said. “Right now. Tell them to get in their cars and leave.”

“I want that boy, Leon. He’s my prisoner and I want him.”

Leon stepped to within a foot of Peale and said, “Hell will freeze over before you take him.”

“But he murdered one of my deputies! He escaped from my jail!”

Leon removed his pistol from the holster, but kept it pointed toward the ground.

“Go back to Sullivan County where you belong, sheriff. Right now.”

Peale’s shoulders slumped. He muttered something under his breath and started walking away. The spotlights were turned off, the deputies got into their cruisers and quietly backed out onto the road. When the sounds of the engines faded, I looked at Leon’s deputies. All three of them were young, mid-to-late twenties. Their faces revealed neither fear nor relief. The air suddenly seemed fresh, cool and glorious. I turned my attention to Leon, who had holstered the pistol and was now standing with his hands on his hips, staring in the direction of the disappearing cruisers.
 

“You, my friend, have
cojones
the size of church bells,” I said.
 

“And you, my friend, have an accused murderer and escapee in your house.”

I nodded and smiled. “Yes, yes I do.”

“What are we going to do about that?”

I sighed, sat down in the rocker, and rocked a few times.
 

“I don’t know,” I said. “Why don’t we go inside? I’ll introduce you to the crazed murderer and his father.”
 

“You know I can’t guarantee you I’ll be able to keep him,” Leon said. “As soon as he’s arraigned on the escape charge, they might send him back to Sullivan County.”

“Let me worry about that. Listen, are you and your guys hungry? I have some fresh sausage and some beautiful brown eggs one of my neighbors gave me. I make a mean pancake. I’d consider it an honor to fix you breakfast.”

Leon took his hat off, turned to his deputies.

“I don’t know about you boys, but after all this, I’m starved.”

“So am I,” I said as I got up from the chair. “Nothing like a near massacre to fuel a man’s appetite.”

Chapter 40

JASPER
was whistling “Skillet Good and Greasy” as he pulled the skin out of the tanning solution. It was about the size of a hand towel, and was all that was left of Clyde Dalton. The rest of Clyde, along with his clothing and shoes, had gone into the incinerator. A ring he was wearing and his gun had been tossed into Watauga Lake off the Butler Bridge the night after Clyde died. Jasper had hosed down the spot where Clyde had fallen and the blood trail he’d left when Jasper dragged him to the shop. Whatever blood Jasper had missed, Biscuit had taken care of, and Peanut didn’t suspect a thing. Jasper smiled to himself as he looked at the soft, pliable skin. What he was planning would make a heck of a gift to Peanut, though he knew he’d probably never find the nerve to give it to her.
 

Fifty-six hours had passed since Clyde Dalton’s death. It was 8:20 a.m. A summer rain had started falling a few hours earlier and was cleansing the mountain. Jasper enjoyed the steady percussion of the rain dropping on the roof. He liked the smell of the forest after a shower. He thought about Peanut’s question about him leaving the mountains. He truly did love it here. He’d never leave.
 

Biscuit started barking outside and Jasper heard the hum of an engine and gravel crunching beneath tires. He removed his rubber gloves and walked outside. There was virtually no breeze. The rain was heavy but quiet, the drops falling straight down from the clouds. The car was a white Ford Crown Victoria. Behind it was a cruiser from the Carter County Sheriff’s Department. Jasper spoke to the dog and he went silent. A man got out of the Crown Vic, popped open a black umbrella, and started walking toward Jasper. He was shorter than Jasper, barrel-chested, with short, black hair. He was wearing a short-sleeved, white shirt, open at the collar, and gray dress slacks. There was a gun in a shoulder holster beneath his left arm and a badge attached to his belt.

“Morning,” he said as he approached.
 

“Morning.” Jasper took the hand he offered.

“Name’s David Delaney,” he said. “I’m an investigator with the Carter County Sheriff’s Department. You must be Jasper Story.”

“I am. What can I do for you?”

“Is Charleston… is Miss Story around?”

“No sir, she ain’t here,” Jasper said. Charlie had gotten on her horse early in the morning and headed off up the mountain with Jack Dillard. “She went on a little vacation.”

“Is that right? Where’d she go?”

“I don’t believe she wants anybody to know.”

“That her Jeep over there?”

“Belongs to a friend of hers. He went on vacation with her.”

Delaney nodded. “That’s probably a good idea.”

“Have y’all had any luck finding the feller that tried to kill her?”

“That’s why I’m here. We found his car a little while ago.”

“Is that a fact?”

“It’s less than a half-mile down the road, parked in some trees. Your neighbor ran across it and called it in.”

“So you think he’s around somewhere?”

“It looks that way. We have dogs coming, but with all this rain I don’t know if it’ll do any good. We have men in the woods already.”

“Y’all want some help? I know these woods better than anybody.”

“I appreciate that, but we can handle it. Our guys are well-trained.”

“You reckon I should arm myself?”

“That might not be a bad idea, Mr. Story. And it would probably be best if you stay in the house until we find him. I’d hate to see anybody else get hurt.”

Jasper shook his head. Droplets of water fell from the bill of his Atlanta Braves cap.
 

“No, sir,” he said. “We don’t want nobody getting hurt. We don’t want that at all.”

Chapter 41

JACK
Dillard’s left arm was wrapped around Charlie’s waist while the sling held his right arm close to his body. He squeezed Sadie’s hindquarters tightly between his thighs as she climbed yet another steep ridge. The pills he’d been given had reduced the sharp pain in his collarbone and shoulder to a dull ache, but he was struggling to stay on the back of the horse.

“You all right?” Charlie asked over her shoulder as Sadie finally topped the ridge and started down the other side.

“I’m great,” Jack said.
 

“You sure? I thought I heard you groan a second ago.”

“Must have been the saddle creaking. I’m fine.”

They’d been on the horse for nearly an hour. The doctors had kept Jack at the hospital until late yesterday afternoon, and Charlie had spent the entire day with him. When he had finally been discharged, she’d pulled him into the hallway and asked him to come up to her place early the next morning. She wanted to take him riding, to show him the cave. She’d asked whether he felt up to it and he’d enthusiastically said yes. Of course he was up to it. He was Jack Dillard, destroyer of baseballs, tougher than a pine knot. He had failed to mention to his parents that he was going for a ride through rough terrain on a horse. He’d simply told them he was going to visit Charlie, and neither of them had voiced any opposition.

The hospital stay had been like a reunion. Once word of the shooting got out, a steady stream of family and old friends had descended upon his small room. His sister, Lilly, had been among them and had spent a couple of hours there early on the second morning. Joe and Caroline had gone home for a little while, and they’d been alone in the room. Lilly had asked him about Charlie, and he’d talked for fifteen minutes straight before he realized that Lilly was grinning widely at him.

“You’re in love,” she’d said.
 

“Maybe. I think it’s a little early for that word.”

“You’re in love,” she said again. “I can tell by the tone of your voice, the look on your face when you talk about her.”

“You sound like Mom.”

“Of course I sound like Mom. I’m her daughter, practically her clone. I’m also a woman who knows what it’s like to be in love, and you, young man, are in love. I’m happy for you.”

“Does being in love mean that your skin tingles and you stomach tightens every time you see someone? That you can’t stop thinking about them? That you lose your appetite when they’re not around?”

“All of those things,” Lilly said, “and much more.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do when the time comes for me to go back to school in Nashville,” Jack said. “I’ll starve to death.”

“What do you like best about her?”

“Everything.”

“Come on, give me one thing.”

“Her smile. No, her wit, maybe. She’s really sharp. I also like her eyes, the way they change color in different light and the way they sparkle. Her hair is beautiful, her skin is clear and smooth, and the way she carries herself is—”

“I said one thing, Jack. Have you slept with her?”

“That’s none of your business. But no, I haven’t slept with her.”

“Why not? Aren’t you attracted to her?”

“I’m a gentleman. You should know that as well as anyone.”

“But you’d like to rip her clothes off and ravage her, wouldn’t you?”

“Absolutely. Damn, Lilly, what
am
I going to do when I have to go back to law school? I’ll go completely bonkers. ”

 
“You’ll be fine. Maybe Charlie can find a job down there after she passes the bar. When does she take it?”

“In a month. She’ll get the results in October.”

“It’ll work out,” Lilly said. “If it’s really love, and it sounds to me like it is, everything will work out fine.”

Charlie pulled back on the reins, slipped her leg over the saddle horn, and slid to the ground.
 

“This is it,” she said. “We’re here.”

She reached up, took Jack’s left hand in hers, and helped him slide out of the saddle. Jack watched and listened as she spoke in a soothing tone to Sadie and led her to a laurel bush near a creek a few yards away. She wrapped the reins around a branch, retrieved something from a saddlebag, and walked back to where Jack stood.

“It’s there,” she said, pointing to a large rock. “Across the creek and behind that rock, the one shaped like an hour glass. Come on.”

They waded across the shallow creek and climbed a slope. Charlie was carrying a spotlight in one hand and a flashlight in the other.
 

“Look. Right there,” Charlie said.

It took a minute, but Jack eventually made out the narrow, vine-covered opening. Charlie handed him the flashlight and said, “Come on, just follow me.”

Charlie had instructed Jack to wear boots, warm clothing and to bring gloves. He donned the gloves, wrapped his covered fingers around the flashlight and started walking. As soon as he breached the entrance, he stopped. His legs suddenly felt like tree limbs, as though he had no joints, no knees or ankles. His heart was racing, his breathing labored, and despite the sudden drop in temperature, a sheen of perspiration had formed on his forehead.

“Charlie?” he said.

She’d moved a few feet in front of him. She turned. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure. Something is telling me not to go in there.”

“Are you afraid?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember being afraid of anything in my entire life. I’m not shaking, but I’m sweating and my heart is beating like I’ve been running all morning. I’m sweating and I don’t think I can move my legs.”

“Maybe it’s just claustrophobia,” Charlie said. “Let’s go back out for a minute and talk, see how you feel.”

“Right now I’m starting to feel like a coward.”

“It’s probably the medication you’re on,” Charlie said, “or maybe there’s some kind of infection starting up in your wound. This was a bad idea, Jack. I’m sorry. Let’s go back out.”

 
They turned and walked back out of the cave. Jack looked up at the gray clouds boiling on the horizon. A brisk wind was blowing and the sky seemed angry.
 

“Feel better?” Charlie said. She moved close to Jack, removed the glove from her right hand, and caressed his cheek.

He looked into her eyes, the clearest, most beautiful blue he had ever seen.

“I’m not sure how I feel,” Jack said, “but there’s something about this place that is bothering me. I’ve always had this sort of knack for sensing when something isn’t right, almost a sixth sense sometimes. I think I get it from my mother. She can smell danger a mile away. But this is… this is… more intense than anything I’ve ever felt.”

“What do you think is causing it?”

“It has to be the gold. I’ve thought about it a lot since you showed me the bar. My dad and I have talked about it some. That gold… it came from a man who was probably evil. He had to be. I mean, who knows how many people he killed to climb to the top of the world he ruled and stay there? People glorify them, Hollywood loves them, but those men were ruthless and cruel. They were thieves and killers and extortionists. And sitting at the bottom of this cave is the fruit of their labors.”

“I know,” Charlie said. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. But what do I do? Just leave it there? It was a gift, a gift that can change my life. Surely I can take it and do some good with it.”