Shake the Trees (22 page)

“Not yet.”

CHAPTER 32

Tillis had returned from his tarmac meeting with The Mouth.  He realized that his refrigerator still contained no food as soon as he stepped in the door of his penthouse condo.  Then his BlackBerry buzzed.  It was Sally.

“Where are you?”  Tillis asked.

“Tampa International.”

“Tampa?”

“Yeah.  We left my Beemer at that little airport you flew into.  Remember?”  Sally replied.

“Oh, right.  Your black and white Beemer.  Say hi to the seagulls for me.”

“Funny.  I should be in Orlando in about three hours.”

“Did you make any photo quality reproductions of your picture of the blue-eyed girl?”  Tillis asked in a business-like tone.

“Yeah.  I ran four or five copies at Miami-Dade.  Came out better than I expected.”

“You know.  I don’t feel comfortable about you driving back in the dark this late.  After your long day and all.  Get a nice hotel room near the airport at government expense.”

“Cut the crap.  I’m tired.  What do you want?”  Sally snapped.

“I’m hurt.  But now that you mention it, I would like you to deliver a copy of the photo in the morning.  I’ll get you the details later.  How’d the fingerprints come out?”

“Beautiful.  I e-mailed them to Orlando.  They should be running the data bases as we speak.”

“E-mailed?”  Tillis asked doubtfully.

“Tillis, I told you that they don’t lift the prints with this process.  They photograph them.  Digitally.  I e-mailed the packet to Orlando.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, Tillis.”

“Sleep tight.”

“Five-star?”  Sally asked.

“Three.”

“Damn.”

Tillis hit the end button and pulled a card from his pocket, and then dialed The Mouth’s private cell phone number.

“Hello?”  The Mouth sounded sleepy and maybe a little drunk.

“Hope I didn’t interrupt your special time.  You know.  When you count your money.”

“Damn it.  Tillis.  I gave you the card with my private cell phone number on it, didn’t I?”

“Do you plan on meeting with your client again in the morning?”

“No.”  The Mouth grumbled.

“Because I figured that you probably were.  You know.  To work through this password thing.”

“What do you want, Tillis?”

“Well, if you were going to be at the general aviation terminal at Tampa International at around 9:30 in the morning, I thought I would deliver you a photo of the blue-eyed girl I told you about.”

“Why?”

“I’d like you to show it to your client.”

“Again.  Why?”  The Mouth responded skeptically.

“Call it a hunch.”

“Jesus.  I’m gonna kick Duke’s ass.”

“Huh?”  Tillis sounded confused.

“Never mind.  I’ll be there.  I’m turning my cell off now.”

It was late Monday night.  After her conversation with Sam and Jefferson Davis Brown, Sandi had locked up the real estate office and gone to the bank.  Then she went home and filled her dad in on everything.  After that it was time to take care of the maternity ward.  Later she spent time with Dustin going over his spelling words.  Unfortunately, she ran out of things to do, so she watched the news and Letterman.  Anything to take her mind off Sam, and what he must be going through.

As Sandi sat at her tiny kitchen table, she could see that a light was on in the ranch house.  That meant her father was still awake; her mother would have been in bed hours earlier.  Sandi got up and checked on Dustin.  He was sleeping soundly.  She stepped out on the front porch of the cabin and quietly closed the door behind her.  After taking in a deep lungful of cold mountain air and admiring the low-hanging stars, she put her head down and walked quickly up the narrow dirt road.

“A man your age should have been in bed hours ago,” Sandi said as she pushed open the door to the ranch house kitchen.

“I’ll second that,” Rodger replied.

“Can I heat you up a glass of warm milk?”  Sandi asked.

“I prefer this,” Rodger replied as he held up a tumbler of straight whiskey.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Pull up a chair.  It’s a free country.”

“So they say.  Some might disagree.”  Sandi glumly commented.

“Yeah.  I know.  I can’t get Sam off my mind either.”

“I guess we’ll know something on Thursday.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.”  Rodger commented deliberatively.

“About the hearing?”

“Yeah.  About the hearing.  Did The Mouth tell you anything else about that hearing?”

“Nope.  I’ve told you everything, Dad.  Almost word for word.”  Sandi answered.

“I think we ought to go.”

“To the court hearing?”  Sandi asked with surprise.

“Yup.”

“You and me?”

“Yup.”

“In Florida?”

“Yup.”

“Fly?”

“Hell, no.”  Rodger growled.

“Damn.  And I was on a roll too.”

“You know I don’t mind the flyin’ part.  It’s all those damn people.  The lines.  All that security crap.  And you know I like to carry Betsy when I travel.”  Rodger explained.

“Dad, if were going to drive we need to leave soon.  Like in the morning.”

“I know.”

“And what about the cattle?  And Dustin?”  Sandi thought out loud.

Rodger guffawed. “You know what, Sandi.  I’ve messed you up pretty good, haven’t I?  You think about the damn animals before you think about your own kid.”

“Dad, that’s not true.  It just came out that way.  Mama can take care of Dustin.  You know that.”

“I know, honey.  I have some business to take care of in town first thing in the morning.  Then I’ll go see Chubbs.  He’ll look after things for us.”

Sandi laughed.  “Mama’s gonna love that.”

“When I get back from town we’ll leave.  Take turns and drive straight through if we have to.”

“I’ll go by the office and forward the phones.  And hang a sign on the door.”  Sandi added.

“Let’s get some sleep, honey.  We have a long couple of days ahead of us.”

Sandi stood up and walked over to her father and threw her arms around his broad shoulders.  “Thank you, Dad.  I don’t know what I’d do without you.  I love you so much.  You know that don’t you?”

The old man patted his daughter on the back.  “I know, honey.  I love you too.”

It was Tuesday.  In the very early morning hours. Sam had been awoken twice by his mother’s pale and silent lips.  Now he was hearing words, but her lips weren’t moving.

“Get your ass up, boy.”

Sam tried to shake the grogginess from his brain as he looked up at a strange face.  “Who are you?”

“Just get your ass up.”  The man shouted.

It was only then that Sam realized the man was dressed in a guard’s uniform.  “Where’s Reggie?”

The guard ignored Sam’s question and pulled him from his cot.  Then he gathered Sam’s pink shirt into a ball, which he held in his fist as he pushed Sam out of the cell and past several other cubicles that were bathed in low light.  Soon the two came to a door, which the guard unlocked and opened.  Sam was propelled forward by a parting shove and stumbled into the darkness.  Then he heard the door lock behind him.

Sam could sense that there were others in the space, and as his eyes adjusted to the near darkness he found three forms.  One was much larger than the other two.  The two normally sized figures grabbed Sam’s arms.  The large one spoke with a redneck twang.

“You’re lucky we got you.  Not them colored boys.”

One of the men holding Sam by an arm shoved something in his mouth.  The odor was pungent and unmistakable.  Sam started to gag, but even his throat seemed to sense that any attempt to resist was in vain.

The large man undid the tie on the pink scrub pants Sam wore, and slowly pulled down the underwear beneath them.  With the pink scrubs and white underwear pooled around his ankles, the big man began to caress Sam’s buttocks with his huge and leathery paws.

“Almost feels like a woman’s ass.  You should know, boy.  I ain’t no faggot.  I like the women plenty.  I ain’t no pervert.”

One of the other two men roughly grabbed Sam by the hair and pushed his head down almost to the floor.  As Sam looked between his legs in the near darkness, he saw the big man’s pink scrubs drop to the floor as well.

“Relax now, boy.”  The big man began to rub his rough palms over Sam’s buttocks again.  “When we’re done here, one of these boys will carve our sign into this woman soft ass of yours.  We respect each other’s property ‘round here.  You won’t have to worry none about them colored boys botherin’ you.  Not no mo’ you won’t.”

Sam squeezed his eyes closed as tightly as he could.  He felt himself step outside his own body.  And then he heard a scream.  He thought it was his own, until he felt the two men release their grip on his arms.  And then heard them scurrying away, like rats seeking the shadows.

Sam opened his eyes.  The room was now bathed in light from the previously locked door.  Sam looked between his ankles and saw the big man writhing in pain on the floor.  As he moved his gaze upward, he saw Reggie framed between his thighs.  His stiff arm held the Taser gun he’d just fired.

“That’s more’n I ever wanted to see there, Sweet Thang.  Why don’t you straighten on up.  And take that nasty sock outta your mouth.”

CHAPTER 33

James shook Elizabeth from her slumber before first light Tuesday morning.  A hazy drug-induced hangover clouded her mind.

“Elizabeth, you need to get up.”  James prodded.

“What time is it?”  Elizabeth answered groggily.

“It’s quarter to six.”

“In the morning?”

“Yes.  It’s 5:45 a.m. Tuesday morning.  Come on.  Get up.”  James pressed more urgently.

“Why?”

“It’s not safe for you here anymore.  I have someplace safe for you to go.  In the Keys.  But you need to leave this morning.”

“They don’t know who I am, James.  I can stay here.  I just won’t leave the condo.”  Elizabeth muttered.

“It’s not safe.  Somebody might put two and two together.  You said it yourself.  They have your photograph.  It’s better if you leave for now.  Don’t argue with me.  You need to listen to me.”  James sternly repeated the magic words from the night before.

“Okay.”  Elizabeth meekly agreed.

“I’ve laid out your suitcases.  We need to get all of your things together and packed.”

Elizabeth threw her things into the bags, while James deposited everything in her car.  With that task completed, he had Elizabeth take a seat at the kitchen table and placed a cup of coffee in front of her.

“James, you didn’t need to make me coffee.  I know you can’t drink it anymore.”

“I know it’s hard for you to start your day without it.  And I need for you to concentrate on what I’m about to tell you.  Okay?”

Elizabeth swallowed and set her cup down.  “Okay.”

“First of all, I switched your plates last night.  With a car a few spaces down.  It was backed into a corner parking space.  It hasn’t moved in weeks.  If they come up with your name, and run the DMV records, you should still be okay for a while.”

“Smart,” Elizabeth said as her brain began to work again.

“Here,” James said as he handed Elizabeth a disposable cell phone.  “And I bought one for myself as well.  I entered the number for mine into the memory of yours.  And visa versa.  This is how we communicate from now on.”

Elizabeth eyed the disposable cell phone as if it might bite her.  “I had a bad experience with a disposable cell.  Remember?”

“I bought these on the other side of town.  No way to trace the purchase.”  James pointed at the cell phone in Elizabeth’s hand and demanded obedience.  “Disposables on both ends for any calls.”

“You’ve thought this through.”  Elizabeth remarked evenly.

James sighed.  “I’ve been up all night.”

“I’m sorry, James.”

“What’s done is done.”

Elizabeth’s shoulders slumped in submission.  “Where do you want me to go?” 

“There are a couple of short-term rentals in Marathon.  In the Keys.  On the south side of Highway A1A.  Past a small trailer park down there.  I took my laptop to the coffee shop.  They’re holding a small, furnished efficiency for you.  It’s off the beaten track.  Secluded.  I printed a map and directions.  You pay by the week.  They like cash.”  James handed Elizabeth a fat envelope.

“I’m sorry, James.”

“What’s done is done.  We’re wasting time.  You need to go now.”  James spoke without emotion.

“When will I see you?”

“I don’t know.  Soon.  Get all the groceries and things you’re going to need for a while on your way down.  So you don’t have to go out.  Call me when you’re settled.”

Elizabeth reached out with full eyes, barely finding her voice.  “I’m sorry, James.” 

“You need to go, Elizabeth.  You really need to go now.”

It was 9:35 a.m. Tuesday morning.  Sally sat at the Tampa International general aviation terminal impatiently waiting to deliver a blown-up photograph of the blue-eyed girl.  She was in a hurry to complete the task and catch a cab to Peter O. Knight Airport and her Beemer on the other side of town.  She wanted to get back to Orlando and jack up the lab - the fingerprints that had been e-mailed there the day before still hadn’t been processed.

As Sally looked up from the big manila envelope on which she’d printed the name ‘Mr. Brown’, a commotion began near the front of the terminal.  Then she saw bits and pieces of a beautiful Gulfstream taxi up to the passenger unloading area beyond the huge windows facing the tarmac.  In a moment, steps hydraulically extended from the fuselage of the aircraft, and a nattily dressed black gentleman hurried down them.

When The Mouth of the South entered the terminal, several people rushed toward him for an autograph.  Sally was content to take the scene in from her chair.  After The Mouth finished signing, he didn’t rush to leave through the opposite door as she’d expected.  He stayed stationary and scanned the room, letting his eyes fall on each person there.  Including Sally.

Tillis had merely told her to deliver the photo to a Mr. Brown, who would then take it to the federal detention facility.  As Sally’s eyes met those of The Mouth, it dawned on her.  The Mouth of the South is Jefferson Davis Brown.  Jefferson Davis Brown is Mr. Brown.  Mr. Brown was looking right at her.  ‘Damn Tillis’ she thought to herself as she leapt from her seat.

“Mr. Brown, excuse me.  Are you expecting a delivery from Tillis?”

“Do you have the photograph?’  The Mouth asked abruptly.

“Yes, sir,” Sally said as she extended her open right hand.

The Mouth grabbed the big brown envelope out of her left hand, which hung at her side.  “Thank you.  I’m late.”  Then he rushed out the automatic double doors to the parking lot, where a Cadillac limousine was waiting.

Sally watched him leave and then walked over to the windows facing the tarmac. The big Gulfstream had retracted its stairs and was beginning to move.  The huge gold scales of justice painted on the side of the aircraft’s tailfin reflected the morning sun.  It took a moment for Sally to notice that the scales weren’t even.  They weren’t even close.

“You look like shit,” The Mouth said as Reggie delivered Sam to the same soundproof cubicle as the day before.

Reggie patted Sam on the back.  “One of the guards didn’t get the word that Sam was off limits, and was looking to make a few bucks on the side.”

“In the meat trade?”  The Mouth asked with an alarmed look on his face.

Reggie nodded.  “Don’t worry.  I saved his ass.”

“Literally,” Sam spoke glumly with a far off look in his eye.

The Mouth looked relieved.  “Thanks, Reggie.  You know I’ll remember this.”

“You bet, Mr. Brown.  I’ll see ya’ll later.  Buzz if you need anything.”

After Reggie left, The Mouth put his hand on Sam’s shoulder.  “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.  I guess so.  I just feel sort of numb.”

“Sam, look at me.  I’m going to get you out of here.  Do you understand me?  Jefferson Davis Brown is on your side now.  The scales of justice have been tipped in your favor.”

Sam put his face in his hands and began to quietly sob.  The Mouth put his arms around the hunched over figure and pulled Sam’s face into his shoulder.  “I know its hard Sam, but you need to get a hold of yourself.  You need to be strong for just a little longer.  We’re going to get through this thing.  Together.  Awright?”  The Mouth handed Sam a handkerchief that had been starched until it was nearly as stiff as a board.

Sam blew his nose, sniffled and then straightened his shoulders.  “Yes, sir.  Mr. Brown.”

The Mouth reached into his briefcase and pulled out the manila envelope that Sally had given him.  Then he removed the photograph and studied it.  The photo had been taken at an odd angle, and the resolution was grainy, but the features of the woman were still clear.  She was beautiful.  Brilliantly blue eyes and flowing chestnut colored hair.  He pushed the picture in front of Sam.  “Have you ever seen this girl before?”

As Sam looked down he immediately sucked in a gulp of air, and then stared at The Mouth with wide eyes.  “That’s Ellen.”

The Mouth flipped through the notes of his first meeting with Sam.  “Ellen Hughes?  Are you sure?”

Sam nodded with conviction.

“But the description doesn’t match,” The Mouth said as he looked back at his notes.

“Ellen is a blond.  With bright green eyes.  But that’s Ellen.  I’d bet my life on it.”  Sam stated without a trace of doubt in his voice.

The Mouth studied Sam, and for the first time began to truly believe that his new client was innocent.  Which he hated - the pressure of defending an innocent man was overwhelming.  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Sam.  Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

At that very moment in New Mexico, Dustin sat Indian style on the floor of the ranch house kitchen with a determined look on his face.

“I’m not going to school.  And you can’t make me.”

“We’ll see about that, young man,” Sandi replied with more than a little anger in her voice.

“You promised.”

“What?”

“You promised that I could go along.  You promised that I could go to Florida to see Sam.  You promised.”

“Honey, we’re not going to Disney World.  Pappy and I need to help Sam with some . . . With some business things.”

“I don’t care.  I want to see Sam too.  You promised.”

“I think you should let him come along,” Rodger interjected.

“What?”  Sandi asked in a shocked tone.

“Oh my god,” Betty Rimes exclaimed as she threw her hands in the air and left the room in disgust.

“There’s a lot more to getting an education than sitting in a classroom, Sandi.  I think the trip would be good for the boy.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Dustin jumped off the floor and in a fraction of a second slammed the palms of both hands into the screen door, sending it careening open wildly until it struck the wall.  He never turned around as he took the porch steps two at a time.  “I’m gonna go pack my stuff.”

For the first time that morning, Sandi was alone with her father.  She didn’t have the nerve to ask him the prior night, but now realized that this would be her last opportunity before they left San Luis.

“Dad, I don’t want to back you into a corner.  I’m just gonna throw this out there.  Whatever you decide is okay with me.”

Rodger Rimes looked at his daughter.  His eyes were filled with compassion and regret.  Sandi stopped talking.

“Honey, I called the banker at home last night.  After you came back from town and told me what the lawyer said about this hearing.  And about bail.  News travels fast in a small town.  Everybody knows about that reservoir.  Most people think our ranch is going to turn into a dried up husk that won’t support cows.  The money I could raise by mortgaging this place ain’t worth spit on a hot day.  Not anymore.  I’m sorry.” 

“You think the password is ‘Dawg’?”  The Mouth asked again.

“It was the nickname Dr. Bob gave me.  I’ve thought about it a lot.  That has to be it.”  Sam replied with somewhat less confidence than he exhibited when he identified the photo of Ellen.

Then The Mouth’s cell rang.  Sam strained to hear, but could only make out The Mouth’s side of the conversation.

“Jesus H. Christ, Tillis, I can’t believe I gave you this number.”

“A working dinner?  At your condo?  Tonight?  Shit, Tillis, I didn’t even know you cared.”

“Screw you too.”

“Pizza!  Are you fricking kidding me.”

“Whatever, you cheap bastard.  But no barbeque.  I mean it.  Don’t like the barbeque.  No sir.”

With the cell phone conversation over, The Mouth turned back to Sam.  Somehow Sam knew the conversation involved his case, and he put his manners aside.  “Who was that?”

“It pains me greatly to say this, Sam.  But that was the man who is going to help me pull your ass out of the fire.”