Savage Rising

by C. Hoyt Caldwell

  Otis hesitated and then said, “We got no choice. We can’t arrest a man because we got a good idea he’s gonna break the law someway, somehow.”

  “So we’re to be sitting ducks?”

  “We’re to be lawmen,” Otis snapped. He turned to Kenny. “I thank you for bringing us this information, Kenny. We’ll take it from here.” He started back toward the house. “Hope you brought your appetite. These women will feed you until your belt surrenders.”

  “That is a challenge I look forward to taking on,” Kenny said without moving. When Otis disappeared back inside the house, he bent down and whispered in Dani’s ear. “I ain’t letting it drop like that. Don’t you worry. I ain’t the law. Me and Step are coming off the road to help y’all tend to this situation.”

  Dani, still fuming from her uncle’s stubbornness, managed a small smile. “Otis is liable to arrest the two of you if you stick your noses in this.”

  “First off, the two of us getting arrested ain’t nothing new. We’ve seen the inside of more jailhouses than regular houses. And, second off, we’re just gonna be extra guns close by for when Otis changes his mind.”

  “What makes you think he’s gonna change his mind?”

  “Because Rucker ain’t gonna give him a choice.”

  Chapter 8

  Spivey and Gus arrived for the meeting with Dani an hour early. The drive from Titus Grove was an hour and a half on narrow mountain roads that twisted into blind spot after blind spot. Spivey mapped the route, while Gus drove. There was a straight shot of interstate between Baptist Flats and Titus Grove that shortened the trip by forty-five minutes, but Spivey wanted to get the lay of the back roads between the two shit-kicking towns. When Gus protested and insisted it didn’t make any sense, Spivey nearly killed him with a silent stare.

  They met outside Pep’s, and much to Gus’s chagrin, Spivey wasn’t up for a pre-road-trip meal. He wouldn’t even allow the partway preacher to get a cup of coffee to go.

  “Ima be honest,” Gus said, dressed in his clericals. “I do better on a full stomach.”

  “You do what better?” Spivey asked, climbing into the passenger seat of Gus’s car.

  Gus shrugged and placed himself behind the wheel. “My day-to-days. This and that. Anything that requires thinking for the most part.”

  “And yet you’re a full-time lawyer who moonlights as a partway preacher to make a living. I wouldn’t call that better.”

  Gus started his car and pulled out of Pep’s. “You’re just mean, you know that? You got a streak in you, boy.”

  Spivey didn’t respond. He focused on the passing landscape as they drove, committing each curve in the road to memory. He caught a fleeting glimpse of his reflection in the passenger-side window and winced at the evidence of his advancing years. Despite the dye job on his beard and hair, gray strands found their way in at his temples and chin. Some would call it distinguished. He saw it as aging out of his profession.

  “And why exactly did you want me to wear my preacher clothes? And while we’re at it, why the hell am I going with you to this meeting? I don’t know shit about Baptist Flats.”

  “But you know Luna. This Deputy…Savage, she’s gonna have questions a brother should be able to answer. I’m gonna be too worried to think straight, so you’re gonna interject.”

  “And my preacher-wear? How come you got me dressed in it?”

  “Because I need this Deputy Savage off her game. I bring a preacher with me, and she’s gonna fall all over herself to accommodate a man of the cloth, like a good little Southern girl.”

  “Well, shit if you ain’t got this all figured out.”

  “That’s what I get paid to do, figure shit out.”

  Those were the next to last words Spivey spoke until they pulled up to the curb a block away from the sheriff’s office. His final words were, “Shut the fuck up.”

  Dani arrived at the station.

  Gus’s belly churned and groaned at its empty state. “That must be your deputy.”

  “What makes you say that?” Spivey said.

  Gus laughed. “I thought you got paid to figure shit out. She’s a woman. That’s a rarity around here. Peacekeeping ain’t exactly a lady’s game in these parts.”

  Spivey smirked. “That’s almost a salient point, Partway.”

  “Partway? You ain’t gonna call me that are you? I got me a law degree, and I work myself near to the bone trying to pay my mortgage and incidentals. Partway makes me sound like I’m lazy-assing it. I don’t like it.”

  “And that’s why I’m going to call you Partway…”

  Dani got out of the cruiser and straightened her gun belt in full view of Spivey and Gus.

  “Well, damn,” Gus said. “She ain’t but a tiny thing. I got a nephew in grade school bigger than her.”

  Spivey reached for his door handle. “That’s not surprising. I can’t imagine they make your people small…”

  He stopped short of opening his door when he saw a car with Louisiana plates drive past and slow down as it approached the sheriff’s office.

  “Is this how it’s gonna be? You insulting me every chance you get? I got feelings, you know.”

  “Shut up,” Spivey said.

  “Well, barking commands at me don’t make me feel no better…”

  Spivey pointed to the car with Louisiana plates. “Follow that car.”

  “Car? But we got a meet-up with your deputy…”

  Spivey fought the urge to slap the partway preacher. “Follow the car.”

  Gus turned the key and threw the car into drive. “All right. I’ll follow the damn car, but Ima raise my rates to accommodate your abusive nature if you don’t start being nicer.”

  “Raise your rates,” Spivey said coldly.

  “Fine. Rates is raised.” He drove in silence for a short while before asking, “Why exactly are we following this car?”

  “Because whoever’s driving has a keen interest in the deputy.” Spivey snapped a picture of the car’s license plate.

  “How do you know a thing like that?”

  “Because I told you, I’m paid to know shit. Now back off. You’re following too close.”

  Gus did as he was instructed. “You get a look at who all’s in there?”

  “Nope.”

  “I can’t see for nothing through that tinted window.”

  “I believe that’s the point.”

  “Well, I don’t see the sense in following folks in a car that don’t wanna be seen. I’m guessing they don’t wanna be seen for a reason. I’d just as soon not know what that reason is.”

  The car slowed as it approached a red light and then sped through the light, causing a truck to slam on its brakes at the intersection.

  “Would you look at that? They ain’t exactly responsible motorists,” Gus said.

  “But they were savvy enough to know they were being followed by a partway preacher,” Spivey said in disgust.

  “Well, excuse the fuck out of me. I ain’t never been trained in the art of car following.”

  Spivey searched his cellphone’s contact list for Benny Greer. Locating the name, he tapped the call icon and brought the phone to his ear. When Greer answered, Spivey didn’t bother with a greeting or anything approaching a nicety. “Sending you a photo. Run the plate. Back channel. Off log.”

  Benny snickered and said, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking…”

  Spivey hung up and sent Benny the image.

  Gus grunted out a laugh. “Well, you’re just all kinds of charming, ain’t you?”

  “Turn around,” Spivey said. “Back to the sheriff’s office.”

  “Do you got any other way about you?” Gus asked. “You’re ’bout as soft as sandpaper. Ain’t nothing but a demand come out of your mouth since we met.”

  Spivey kept his eyes on the road ahead. “This is my soft side. Trust me, you don’t wanna see my other way. Now turn the fuck around, and let’s go back to the goddamn sheriff’s office.”


  Gus pulled over to the curb and let a car pass before he turned back toward the station. “You ever decide to change careers you should sign up to be one of them department store Santy Clauses, because you got the disposition for it.”

  Spivey masked his inclination to chuckle at Gus’s joke with a frown and a glare.

  Chapter 9

  Dani’s blood reached near boiling point when the man who introduced himself as George Carl arrived for their meeting with his own preacher in tow. She had a bad taste for preachers. She had been raised by one, if you could call what her father did “raising.” Her attitude soured considerably the second she laid eyes on the man’s collar.

  She ushered her two visitors into the interview room and told them to take a seat. Once they did, she exited the room and stood out of sight, cursing the way her day had started.

  Walking back into the room, still grasping the folder that contained the ATF ID, she forced a smile and said, “Gentlemen, I thank you for driving all this way, although I’ve gotta say, I’m a bit surprised to see you here, Pastor.”

  Gus looked at her nervously. “I’m…I just kind of had the day…It being a weekday and all…”

  Spivey jumped in and turned on his backwoods drawl. “That’s on me, Deputy. That is on me. I’ve just been worried half to death about my sister, and I needed one of God’s warriors by my side to keep me strong. You know how it is? Yes, I’m sure you do.”

  Dani nodded and said, “And Jesus said to him, ‘If you can believe, all things are possible for one who believes.’ ”

  Gus looked at her, dumbfounded. “Right. Right. Jesus did say that. Right.”

  “Mark,” Dani said with a furrowed brow. “Chapter nine, verse twenty-three?”

  “You’re right about that,” Gus said, letting out a spastic laugh. “You certainly are right about that. You’re just all kinds of right…’Cept my name ain’t Mark.”

  “If you don’t mind,” Spivey said, working exceedingly hard not to lean over and choke the life out of Gus, “I’d like to talk about my sister. You said you found her number in a policeman’s wallet or something?”

  Dani eyed Gus suspiciously. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was an impostor. The man didn’t know the first thing about the Bible. That’s not to say a lot of preachers do, but Mark 9:23 is a fairly standard Bible verse. Even the worst of pastors can cite it. Shifting her attention to George Carl, she wondered to herself what kind of man traveled with a fake preacher. “ATF. Alcohol, tobacco, and firearms.”

  Spivey feigned surprise. “That is the strangest thing. Sister never mentioned nothing about knowing an ATF worker. Never once. She ever mention anything like that to you, Pastor?”

  Gus didn’t answer right away because he wasn’t used to being referred to as “Pastor,” but after an awkward silence he realized the question had been directed at him. “Luna never said a thing like that. Can’t imagine her family would be too thrilled about it,” he said with a chuckle. “They ain’t fond of feds and such.”

  “Her family?” Dani said with an inquiring glare. “You mean like George Carl here?”

  Spivey bit his cheeks to keep from screaming. “I’m far removed from our relations, Deputy. Ol’ Pastor Gus, he sometimes forgets I’m a Pike. It ain’t a fact I’m crazy about myself.”

  “Pike?” Dani said, sounding more concerned than she had just a few seconds ago.

  Spivey nodded. “I can tell by your reaction that you are familiar.”

  “Luna’s last name is Conway.”

  “Married name,” Gus said. “A fella by the name of Duck Conway. Doug’s his real name, but folks called him Duck. He died.” Gus held back a laugh but a smile crept onto his face.

  “I can see you’re tore up about it,” Dani said, letting loose with a sarcastic tone.

  “It ain’t that…I mean, he wasn’t a bad fella…It’s just the way he died that gives me the giggles.”

  She looked at the man she knew as George Carl Pike to see if he thought it was as amusing as his in-tow phony pastor. It was clear to Dani that the man didn’t have a clue how Duck Conway died. His placid expression was forced. She could tell by the twitch on his upper lip that on the inside he was a bucking bronco stuck in the chute, but he somehow managed to keep his cool. “How did Duck Conway die, Pastor?”

  Gus snorted. “Hunting accident.”

  Dani leaned back in her chair and smirked. “Let me guess, duck-hunting accident?”

  Gus slapped the table. “What’re the odds that a man called Duck meets up with his maker hunting the very thing he’s called? You can’t write up nothing more perfect than that.”

  Dani turned a stone-eyed expression George Carl’s way. “Where do you fall on the Pike tree?”

  Spivey didn’t respond right away. He studied her face to try and determine how much of this bullshit she was buying. The placid look she wore didn’t give away much. “As far from it as I can. You gotta understand, from my perspective, I’ve fallen off the family tree, Deputy.”

  “Let me ask you, George Carl,” Dani said, holding on to her steely glare, “how are you connected to Bonnie?”

  Spivey hesitated. He should have bailed on the lie, but his pride got the better of him. “Cousin.”

  “And how is Bonnie?”

  Spivey sensed she was backing him into a corner. Her tone gave her away. He didn’t look to Gus because that’s what she was looking for. “You know how she’s doing.”

  Now Dani hesitated. Was it possible that the man was who he claimed to be, and he knew that Dani was part of the reason Bonnie hadn’t been heard from in a year? Was he in the Baptist Flats Sheriff’s Department to get answers about his sister or to take out the lawmen that ended Bonnie? She took note of her right hand’s position and moved it to her lap, just a twitch away from her sidearm. “Why would I ask a question I know the answer to?”

  “Because you got your doubts about me, and you’re trying to catch me in a lie.” He dropped the drawl. “I was George Carl Pike, but nobody’s called me that in a long time. I live in Azalea Harbor, South Carolina. Moved there twenty years ago to get away from my last name. Got a job at NGI, and I’ve been there ever since. My current position is head of security.” A lie mixed in with the truth.

  Dani pointed at Gus. “And him?”

  Spivey let out a small growl. “He’s a full-time shitty lawyer and partway shittier preacher. The truth is, he’s closer with my sister than me. He’s here to answer the questions I can’t.”

  The tension disappeared from his posture, and she sensed he was being forthcoming. She didn’t think he was being completely honest, but she thought he was being honest enough.

  “Your turn,” Spivey said.

  “My turn what?”

  “What did the ATF want with my sister?”

  Dani shrugged. “I got no idea. The ID turned up at the scene of an accidental death. A Parnell Carson…You might know him.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “His daddy’s a Pike. Vernon.”

  Gus let out a whistling gasp upon hearing Vernon’s name.

  That told Spivey everything he needed to know to respond to Dani. “Vernon’s a motherfucker,” he said.

  Dani grinned. The good Southern girl in her, the part of her she despised, waited for him to apologize for his language. The lawman in her appreciated the fact that he never came close to apologizing.

  “He is a mean one,” Gus said.

  “Pikes don’t come any other way,” Dani said, pushing the file folder to Spivey. “Like I said, Parnell had this on him, and a man like Parnell’s got no business carrying around something like that.”

  Spivey opened the folder and stared at the ID. He didn’t immediately grab it and open it. A quick strike of sadness gobbled up his expression and then vanished in an instant. Dani saw it. That ID meant something to him.

  “It’s been processed. You can touch it. We checked for fingerprints. Found two sets, Parnell’s and what I’m guessing
is the agent’s. Patricia McElhenney.” She zeroed in on his face to catch his reaction to the agent’s name.

  Spivey didn’t allow himself to register anything more than a small frown. “Never heard of her.” He picked up the ID and examined the agent’s photo. “Never seen her, either. You contact the ATF?”

  “Contacted the field office in Nashville. They patched me through to D.C.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing. Got passed around until I landed at a general information desk. Left a message with the desk jockey and haven’t got a reply back, yet.”

  “You contact anyone else?”

  She was thrown by his question. “Like who?”

  He shrugged. “Who? There’s a laundry list of people to contact…Look, I got a roomful of computer geeks I work with at NGI. They’ve got backdoor contacts at nearly every government agency you’ve ever heard of and most the ones you haven’t.”

  “Why would NGI need that kind of access?”

  Spivey laughed. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She didn’t answer. She just stared at him like she was going to punch him for laughing at her.

  “The corporate world is a tangled mess of workarounds. You grease the right palm you can bend a law without breaking it. That’s what my division does for NGI. We gain access to the people that will protect our interests inside various government agencies, local, state, and federal.”

  “That don’t sound like security work to me. That sounds like bribery.”

  Spivey grinned. “I secure the folks who accept the bribes.”

  “And that ain’t illegal?”

  “No. I wouldn’t be telling you about it if it was. The higher up the chain you offer the financial incentive, the more legal it is.”

  “Well, shit,” Gus said. “I’m in the wrong line of work.”

  Spivey shot him a look. “For more than one reason.” He turned back to Dani. “You hand over the ID to me, and I can almost guarantee I’ll be able to at least get a response from the ATF.”