“You ready to lie your ass off?” I asked my brother, and he gave me a curt nod.
We’d practiced what we would say when the inevitable investigation started, even though pretty much everybody but me dismissed the idea as unlikely. We’d used the weapons and ammunition taken from the dead deputies here to leave ample fingerprint and ballistic evidence behind linking the attack on the county sheriff and his henchmen to disgruntled members of his own gang. Should make it open and shut on the surface.
I hated to be proven right, but the assassination of a county sheriff and a large chunk of his deputies, no matter how crooked, must have stirred up a shit ton of worry in Austin. We made sure to remove anything in the house that linked Cecelia Robinson or Madeline Stockton to the sheriff, but we left all of Deputy Haines’ incriminating videos in the house to help further muddy the waters.
The only thing I couldn’t figure out how to fix or sabotage fell to the electronic trail. I had a pretty good feeling there would’ve been backup GPS data placing Bailey and his cohorts on our property for at least two hours before we could get the Suburban moved back down the road to the Fitts property. That was the only place we could think to stash it before reclaiming it that night to raid the sheriff’s own compound. I wasn’t a hacker, and even if I had one on tap, we had too many other bases to cover in a limited window of opportunity.
I hated being proven right in this instance, but we would see what happened and react accordingly. Unfortunately, the only way this would work, at least in my mind, required us to act like total assholes.
Mike drove, and I fiddled with my chest rig, trying to keep the magazines from pressing too hard against the plate carrier and the slab of steel that rode over a still tender bruise on my sternum. No broken ribs, but Pat and Marta thought I had two at least that were cracked. Well, Pat thought they were cracked. Marta just claimed I was being a big baby.
While Mike and I approached the gate, the rest of our response crew made a production of proceeding to the improvised bunkers we’d constructed around the perimeter of the property. That meant Pat, Sally, Nikki, and Nancy were decked out in full camo apparel as they rushed to take up their firing positions relative to the front gate. Marta stayed behind to cover the clinic while Beatrice, Maddy, and Cece corralled the children.
Maddy and Cece were trying to make the cut on weapons and training to become part of the defense force here at the farm, but there was no way they could be seen by law enforcement if our agreed-to story was going to hold. We’d asked them to forego contacting their former coworkers and their boss after we’d effected their rescue, and so far, they had resisted the urge to make a call. Cece, in particular, felt honor bound not to betray us, and Maddy was too close to her friend to buck the decision but none of us, including the two young ladies, knew what the long-term would bring.
When I reached the gate, I saw Lieutenant Bastrop from the Sheriff’s Department waiting patiently with what I thought were a few other deputies outside in the misting drizzle. The changing weather meant we’d been forced to become like those poor bastards who used to live up in Seattle, where this wasn’t even considered rainfall anymore.
“Your boss decide to send you out with a warrant this time to scout our farm, Lieutenant Bastrop?”
I spoke with as much scorn as I could muster before the lieutenant could even open his mouth.
“What? Bryan, what the hell are you talking about?” he asked with a touch of exasperation in his voice.
“Last time we had Albany County’s finest out here,” I continued, trying to keep the agitation in tone, “they tried to force their way in, saying the sheriff had ordered them to make some kind of survey of the farms in the county. Wanted to count our horses and chickens, he said. I said come back with a warrant, and here you are. Should we just start loading up those chickens so your boss can confiscate them for the greater good?”
I all but spat the last line, and Bastrop visibly recoiled at my vehemence.
I heard the door creak open on one of the cruisers, but I kept my eyes focused on the three deputies gathered in a huddle. In addition to Bastrop, I recognized the other two as long-time deputies who had been around for years. Neither one struck me as a go-getter, but Landshire hadn’t fingered them for his kill teams, either. They were time-servers, working on the back stretch towards retirement.
“Bryan, when was the last time you had deputies out here? We’ve got nothing about this on our logs,” Bastrop countered, and I wondered if that was true.
I made a point of counting up the days, then gave him the date in question. There was no point in lying about that detail, and it actually served to bolster our credibility if they had the GPS records from that visit.
“Bryan, who did you talk to that day?”
I scratched at my forehead before answering. Mike was looking on, his face expressionless. He said nothing, and left the lying, I mean talking, up to me as we’d planned.
“Big old guy, Bailey I think he said his name was,” I replied. “Funny, he said he was a sergeant, but I’d never seen him before. Didn’t like him one bit, and I sure didn’t like the way he was throwing his weight around.”
“Look, nobody’s trying to confiscate anything from you, Mr. Hardin, but do you remember exactly what he said? I’m sorry, but we’ve got no record of this at all.”
“Sure, he said he had orders to come on my property, count all my animals and inspect my food pantry. He said he was sent here by the sheriff, on explicit orders of the governor. I told him he wasn’t coming on this property. We sat here and jawed about it for a while, and he and his two buddies were getting more and more agitated. Bailey threatened to hook up a chain to our gate and pull it down if we didn’t comply.”
“What did you do?”
“You mind telling me what this is all about, Lieutenant?” I asked, letting him know I was aware the whole thing was highly irregular. “I told you, he tried to execute an illegal search, and I didn’t let him.”
“Bryan, do you remember the names of the other two deputies? I promise, I’ll explain in a minute.”
“Uh, Bailey, K-something and Baine, I think.” I made to look over at Mike, who was staring at the new person who’d exited the cruiser and was approaching the fence. Dragging my eyes away from the newcomer, I asked my brother a question to cover his evident shock.
“Mike, you remember the name of the deputies? I seemed to recall a smart ass remark from you about how they sounded like the name of a law firm.”
“Krueger,” Mike replied, channeling a little of his inner anger as his response went on. “I think that was his last name. None of them gave their first names and we didn’t ask. Things got a little tense there at the end.”
“Bryan, Mike, good to see both of you again,” said the newcomer. It was my old firearms instructor Andy Carstairs, and he looked to be back in harness with the Texas Rangers, if the badge was any indication.
“Good to see you too, Major,” I replied. “What brings you out here today? The governor finally getting around to investigating our favorite sheriff?”
“In a manner of speaking. You see, those three deputies you mentioned? We’re looking for them in conjunction with some other things they might have done. You sure that was the last time you saw them? And was there anybody else with them at the time?”
“Major, they came on our land, made demands, and were asked to leave unless they could produce a warrant. Bailey hemmed and hawed, made some phone calls after we refused to cave, and they left in a huff. I’m still wondering what this has to do we us.”
“Come on, Bryan, I’m still Andy,” the older man insisted. “The problem is these three deputies have disappeared. On top of that, the sheriff is dead. So are some of his other deputies. You sure you didn’t hear this on the radio?”
“Major, in case you missed it when you went back to working for the Man,” I sassed, gesturing around at the scattering of downed tree limbs and unrooted saplings still waiting to be
processed, “we’re still trying to recover from another hellacious hurricane. We got lucky not to lose power this time, but all our radio and television antennas are still down. We might not have had the tornados this time, but that lightning storm was insane. We ain’t heard shit.”
“All right, I think I’ve heard enough,” Andy replied with a hint of humor in his deep, basso voice. “We knew Bailey and his boys came out this way before heading back to see the sheriff one last time, but we’re still investigating. By the way, you haven’t happened to see a couple of young ladies from the Department of Agriculture, have you? They got here before the storm and their boss seems to have lost track of them. He’s gotten quite insistent.”
“Well, Major, or should I say Sheriff? Either way, you should ask that boss of theirs what the heck would a couple of Extension Agents be doing out at a time like this,” I said, then gave vent to my own sense of exasperation. “The county roads aren’t safe, the streets in town aren’t safe, and Lord knows how many homes have been overrun since this started.”
“Well, Lieutenant Bastrop here is Acting Sheriff until the county can set up an emergency election. I’ve just been called back out of retirement to do my bit where I can.”
That part about Bastrop was actually a bit of good news. I didn’t know the man all that well, but I knew he wasn’t one of Landshire’s cronies. The county could use some honest leadership if any were going to survive.
Deciding I’d played my role of irritated asshole long enough, I stuck my hand through the gate in Bastrop’s direction, and we awkwardly shook as I congratulated him, with Mike adding words of support as well.
As Andy was ushering the other three law enforcement types back to their vehicles, he held up his hand, in vintage Columbo style, and turned back to us while waving the deputies on back to their cars. Mike had shaken off his attack-dog stance and he moved to stand closer to me as Andy Carstairs, Texas Ranger, came back over and leaned close the metal crossing bars on the fence.
With his deep voice, the effort at keeping his words between us made him sound like he was choking off the syllables as he spoke.
“Good work with the sheriff, boys. My lab crew is totally convinced Bailey and his mutts pulled off the operation as a smash and grab before fleeing the jurisdiction. Now, don’t ever fucking do it again. You get something like this again, get in touch with me.
“If you got those two girls, don’t let them go back to Austin. The war with Mexico is just about to reach a boiling point, and the governor has already been quietly trying to evacuate the city. Too juicy of a target. Same with San Antonio, but the Army bases have apparently been reinforced with more missile defense.
“Finally, I did some digging, confirmed some things you all told me before. That was a big ass rock all right, and just so you know, there’s three more on the way in the next six months. Don’t know yet if they’ll hit, or where, but you’d be wise to keep your heads down.”
With that, Andy gave a little half salute and headed back to his car, while Mike and I stood looking on in stunned silence.
“I guess we need to start getting ready,” I muttered, trying to sound unconcerned.
“Time to pick up the pace,” Mike agreed, but I could tell he was shocked by the revelation.
Pick up the pace? I didn’t know about Mike, but I already felt like we were running at a flat-out sprint. Then I thought about Nancy, and I decided it was about time to see if I had a higher gear left in me.
“Six months? Pfff. We’ll just build an ark,” I shot back, throwing an arm over my brother’s shoulder. “Starting tomorrow. I’m taking today to work on my tan.”
Looking up, Mike held out a hand and glanced down at the gloved palm. Turning his eyes back to me, he gave me a concerned look, and I suddenly had a feeling it was about more than the incoming stones of destruction.
“What?” I demanded.
“It’s starting to snow,” Mike announced, sounding sick to his stomach.
AFTERWORD
First, sorry this one took longer than expected. I was wrestling with some plotting and pacing issues with this story as well as dealing with a few real-world demands on my time. If you have gotten this far, then either you found the story engaging enough to finish, or you’re one of those disturbing individuals who cannot resist cheating by reading the ending first. Either way, thank you for your time.
I intended this to be a trilogy, but now I’m looking at my planned outline for Book Three and wondering what the heck I was thinking. At least I learned my lesson about giving my word after promising I would end the Walking in the Rain series in seven books. I managed to pull it off, but only after writing two books and slapping them under one cover. Seriously.
The next book in this series will be coming together in about three months, but I first need to finish the solo book I started for the Stolen Liberty series. Bert, our Florida charter boat captain, gets his own book.
Will Allen
January 8, 2020
Brief Description of the Husband Clan and Relations
Esther Husband-matriarch (56 year old)-Donnie Husband (dec’d)
Doyle Husband (Donnie’s brother) 53-wife Brigitte
(3 kids in their teens and early twenties)-own a chicken operation other side of the county
Esther and Donnie’s Children
Wade (36)-wife Dorothy
Wade-construction; Dorothy-nurse
(2 kids-10, 13)
Ethan (34) -wife Margie
Ethan-long haul truck driver; Margie-book keeper
(3 kids-6, 9, 12)
David (33) -Rhetta
David-welder/ironworker; Rhetta-stay at home mom
Barbara (30)-Keith
Barbara-beautician; Keith-mechanic
(1 child-4)
Susanne (30)-Wilton Huckabee
Susanne-elementary school teacher; Wilton-tow truck driver
Greg (28)- wife Casey
Paige (27)- husband Anthony
Nancy Prentiss (Dorothy Husband’s sister) 32 daughter Lisa (12)
Tertiary Effects Series | Book 2 | Storm Warning Page 32
