Savage Rising

by C. Hoyt Caldwell

  He could see her imagining all the different directions she wanted to twist his nuts, and he held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “I can see by your face that I shouldn’t have said that. I suck at diplomacy.”

  “You just plain suck,” Dani said, standing.

  “Wait, wait.” He sighed deeply to try to buy time so he could find any semblance of civility in his uncivil demeanor. “If you won’t give me the ID, let me just pick your brain. I don’t know the area. I need some information.”

  “Use that high-end equipment of yours,” Dani said as she headed for the break-room door.

  “It’s about the Pikes.”

  She stopped dead in her tracks.

  “I could use your assistance on something.”

  Chapter 22

  The Pikes. That was the thought churning through Dani’s head as she sat at the mommas’ dining room table. It was a rare occasion where she was allowed to wear her uniform. They were discussing what to do with Sarah. What started as a consensus decision among the women that the girl had to be punished devolved into a spat about the severity of the punishment. After all, she had been through so much in her young life. A severe punishment seemed too cruel, but a simple slap on the wrist didn’t appeal to the group of Southern women who’d seen more than their fair share of belts to the backside.

  “She needs to be took out to the woodshed,” was a phrase uttered by one of the women. Dani wasn’t sure which because she was only paying attention by half.

  Another responded, “She spent too much time in hell to send her out to the woodshed. That’s old-fashioned thinking.”

  Dani recognized the voice even though she wasn’t really listening. It was Laura. Her mind shifted from the Pikes to the awful thing she’d said to Otis.

  “Well, what then? We just let her be one of them thugs? That time she spent in hell, as you call it, put a little bit of the devil in her. We got to correct that development right off.”

  “Pastor Tom,” another momma said, “let’s have him over to talk to the girl…”

  Dani snapped out of her mental theater and barked, “No pastors. No Bible. None of that shit. It’ll do more harm than good. Trust me. I had it done to me, and it sent me down a path…It ain’t the way to go on this.”

  Momma Elizabeth was about to tear into Dani for going against the Bible when Laura jumped in. “What’s your thinking, Dani? How do you wanna go at this?”

  Dani couldn’t bring herself to look at the woman she had wronged just a couple of hours before. “Mr. Robbins says there’s a place…a school this side of Knoxville that helps troubled kids…”

  “No, no, no!” Momma Elizabeth shouted. “No, indeed. We ain’t sending her away. We are her family. We will fix this.”

  Laura let the ringing from Momma Elizabeth’s voice dissolve through the walls of the dining room before she spoke up. “A therapist. We’ll just find a therapist. Dani?”

  Dani was about to answer when her phone rang. She was happy for the interruption and picked it up quickly. “Yeah.”

  It was Son. The fucking problem was being a fucking problem again, only this time he’d bit off more than he could chew.

  Dani didn’t even say goodbye to the mommas. She just held up a finger to pause the conversation as she stood. She was still assuring Son that she’d take care of everything, urging him to calm down, when she climbed behind the wheel of her cruiser.

  For the hell of it, Dani put on the flashing lights and siren. It saved her from screaming out the window as she drove through the streets of Baptist Flats to Son’s.

  By the time she stepped inside the bar, she felt like she had emerged from a torture chamber that was the rest of the world. She was ready to dole out some punishment, hoping that some cracker would grab at her again. She was ready to break somebody’s jaw.

  Son wore an uncharacteristic smile. “Your boy is over there,” he said, pointing to a table near the back office.

  Randle was slumped over with his hands behind his back. Thick streams of bloody saliva oozed from his mouth.

  Dani hurried toward him. “Who the hell did this?” she asked as she reached him and gently lifted up his face. He had more bumps and bruises than a prizefighter. Dani quickly realized that his hands were handcuffed behind his back.

  “I said, who the hell did this?”

  Nola stepped out of the office holding a paper towel to a cut over her eye. “I did.”

  Dani’s heart didn’t so much beat faster as it did with aggressive intent. Armstrong’s warning played through her mind. The deputy became hyperaware of Nola’s every movement. “You assaulted a police officer?”

  A look of exasperation crossed Nola’s face. “Fuck that. Your police officer was…behaving erratically. I was trying to save his ass from crossing a line.”

  Randle let out a lazy chuckle. “I ain’t got no fucking lines. I’m the law.”

  “Shut up, Terry,” Dani said with a grimace.

  “He’s headed down a bad path,” Nola said. “He needs to be in the program.”

  Randle snapped his head in her direction. “Fuck you, ni—”

  “Hey!” Nola erupted, with her finger aimed at Randle’s face. “You put that fucking word back in your mouth, motherfucker! You do not wanna go down that road with me! The beatin’ that word comes with ain’t near as friendly as the beatin’ I just gave you! You hear me?”

  “Fuck you!” Randle screamed as he tried to wiggle out of the chair. Nola had looped the cuffs around the back support, and it caused the inebriated deputy to crash land to the floor face-first with the chair on top of him.

  The crowd at Son’s laughed and applauded.

  Dani attempted to help him to his feet, but he was worse than deadweight. He worked against her efforts as he tried to prove he could stand on his own.

  Nola quickly moved in, pulling the keys to the handcuffs from her pocket and freeing Randle’s hands.

  “I’ve got this,” Dani insisted.

  “No, you don’t,” Nola said as she grabbed Randle under the arm. She nodded, signaling to Dani to lift with her.

  When they got Randle to his feet, the crowd erupted into laughter as they witnessed blood gushing from his nose.

  Dani kept her fury under wraps and started to escort Randle out of the bar.

  Nola stopped her and held out the cuffs. “He’ll want these back.”

  The fury Dani felt gave way to admiration. She hadn’t considered where Nola had gotten the handcuffs. The marine from New Orleans had subdued Randle and slapped his own handcuffs on him.

  Dani dragged Randle a few more feet before Nola called out to her.

  “Don’t you want my statement? Interview witnesses?”

  Dani turned to her. “No need. I’ve answered this call before. Outcome’s a bit off-script, but other than that, it’s same shit, different day.” With that, she turned and dragged Randle out of the bar.

  Chapter 23

  Spivey parked across the street from Partway’s law office and watched a tall, thick man with a white handlebar mustache and longish white hair climb out of a tricked-out El Camino with a .45 holstered to his hip. Vinton Pike lit a cigarette before he entered the small building that had once been occupied by a fortune-teller. A faint sign with a handprint and the handcrafted words GET YOU PALM RED BY MADAM CLARA was leaning on a stone wall on the south corner of the building. Clara may have had psychic abilities, but she couldn’t spell worth a shit.

  Spivey’s passenger tensed up at the sight of Vinton Pike’s sidearm. She regretted everything about this little excursion to Titus Grove, particularly her decision to listen to Spivey and not wear her uniform. Dani worked to not sound nervous. “He’s armed.”

  “That’s a good sign.”

  She flashed him the whites of her eyes as they rolled back in her head. “In the law enforcement game, meetings with armed crackers ain’t nearly as good as one might expect. Not good in any way, shape, or form.”

  “You gotta loo
k past the gun, Deputy, and think about the kind of man that puts a gun on display like that.”

  “You mean a dangerous man?”

  “I mean an idiot.” Satisfied that Vinton had come alone, Spivey exited his car.

  Dani stepped out of the passenger side. “In my experience, there ain’t a big leap from idiot to dangerous.”

  “True,” Spivey said as he crossed the street. “But a man wearing a piece like that is a predictable idiot. He’s too lazy to pay attention to the shit around him because he thinks that gun wards off trouble and there’s no need for him to be on his toes.” Before entering the lawyer’s office, Spivey stopped to examine the contents of Pike’s El Camino. A couple of spent bottles of Mad Dog sat on the passenger seat, and the ashtray was filled with abused cigarette butts. A few off-brand porno magazines catering to crackers with gun fetishes were crammed under the driver-side visor. An upstanding citizen Vinton Pike was not.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Introducing myself to Vinton Pike.” He moved to the entrance of the building.

  Dani looked inside Vinton’s car to see what the hell she could learn about the man. He was a pig.

  Spivey was greeted by a nervous grin from Gus inside the building. Vinton sat with his feet propped up on the lawyer’s desk, sucking the life out of his cigarette. Dani stepped inside the office and stood just past the threshold.

  “Mr. Spivey,” Gus said, sounding more than a little relieved. Given his choice of assholes, he’d take Jack Spivey over Vinton Pike any day of the week. “I was just going to call…But, you’re here. And you, too, Dep—” Gus stopped himself after remembering what Spivey had told him. Don’t tell Vinton Dani’s a cop. “Debbie…I mean Miss…Debbie.”

  “Savage. Dani Savage,” Dani said, eyeing Vinton to see if the name registered with him.

  “You’re late,” Vinton said in a strained voice. He didn’t bother looking Spivey’s way. “And what’s with the slit?”

  Spivey subtly shifted his eyes to Dani and, with a subtle shake of his head, he encouraged her to keep her cool.

  “Got lost. I don’t know Titus Grove.” Spivey stood in front of the desk with his hands in his pockets.

  “Google map that shit or get your fucking woman to do it. What kind of man calls for a meeting and then shows up late?”

  Spivey shrugged. “My apologies, Mr. Pike.”

  Vinton looked at him for the first time. “I don’t know you.”

  “Jack Spivey.”

  “I know your name. Lawyer-man told me that. I don’t know you.”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not a problem. More a puzzle. Can’t figure why a man I don’t know would want a meet-up.” He blurted out a whistle when he caught his first real glimpse of Dani. “You sure do travel with a nice piece of ass, Jack Spivey. Fuck me, you do!”

  Dani was seething, and she wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it. Still, she waited for her spot to uncork it all the way.

  Gus inched toward the door.

  “I’m looking for your daughter,” Spivey said. “Your daughter is Luna Conway, right? That’s what I’ve been informed.”

  There was a pause as Vinton pondered Spivey’s statement. “Why is a stranger looking for my Luna?”

  Spivey smiled. “It’s a private matter, Mr. Pike.”

  Vinton squirmed in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “Well, now it’s a family matter. What do you want with Luna?”

  Spivey held his smile. “You’re a concerned father looking out for his daughter. I get that.”

  “I’m a busy man called to a pissant lawyer’s office to meet up with a button-downed shithead asking about my baby girl’s whereabouts, that’s what I am, Jack fucking Spivey.”

  “As I said, I get that…”

  “Hey, sweetie,” Vinton said, looking past Spivey at Dani. “What the fuck does your piece-of-shit boy want with my daughter?”

  Dani laid a cool stare on him and didn’t utter a word.

  “You’re upset…” Spivey interjected.

  “I’m fucking mad as shit…”

  Gus pushed the door open. “You three don’t need old Gus around. Ima step outside…”

  “Get the fuck back in here, lawyer-man,” Vinton said. His feet were off the desk, and his right hand had dropped near his holstered .45.

  Spivey spotted a mini-fridge on the other side of the room. “I’m thirsty. You thirsty, Mr. Pike?”

  “Thirsty?”

  “Miss Savage, what about you? You thirsty?” Spivey asked with his back to her.

  Dani answered while never taking her eyes off Vinton. “I’m parched.”

  Spivey turned to Gus. “Beer gut like that has got to have a nearby source.” He motioned with his head toward the mini-fridge.

  It took Gus a few seconds before he caught on. “Beer. Right. I got beer. Y’all wanna beer?”

  Vinton huffed out the last drag from his cigarette and threw the butt onto the floor. “No. I want two.”

  Gus hurriedly retrieved a six-pack from the mini-fridge and handed one each to Dani and Spivey on his way to the desk.

  Spivey popped the tab and took a swig as Partway handed Vinton a beer.

  “Have…have the rest,” Gus said, placing the remaining three beers on the desk.

  “Truth is, Mr. Pike, I’m not the one that has business with your daughter. My employer does.”

  Dani broke her stare-down with Vinton and turned her attention to Spivey. Was he lying or was this a piece of information he had neglected to share with Dani?

  A hump of suds came out of Vinton’s beer when he opened it. He sucked up the ejection before he responded to Spivey. “Who the fuck’s your boss?”

  Spivey chuckled. “I’m afraid you’re not going to like my answer to that question.”

  Vinton chuckled back. “Wouldn’t surprise me none. I ain’t liked a one of your answers yet.”

  “I don’t give out my employer’s name.”

  Vinton leaned back and took a gulp of beer. “Well, I’ll say one thing for ya. You don’t disappoint. That there answer is as objectionable as your others.”

  “Mr. Spivey’s a good man, Vinton. A good man. I’ve had dealings with him for going on six months now, and everything’s been done on the up-and-up.”

  “Shut up, lawyer-man,” Vinton said. “Didn’t nobody ask you.” He gulped down half the can of beer in one swallow and then belched. “What about that, slit? Is your Jack Spivey a good man?”

  Dani couldn’t stop her face from turning beet red. She wanted more than anything to punch the cracker in the throat. She started the clock in her head. Spivey had about two minutes before she took over.

  “Your bitch don’t talk?” Vinton asked Spivey.

  Spivey had to force himself to stay calm. He didn’t want to punch Vinton in the throat. He wanted to tear his throat open with his bare hands.

  Vinton chuckled. “Never mind. I prefer women to keep their mouths shut and legs open anyway. Where you from, good-man Spivey?”

  “Where am I from, or where do I live?”

  “Goddamn. You’re one of those, huh? Parse the shit out of a man’s words. Where the fuck do you live?”

  “South Carolina. Azalea Harbor.”

  “No shit. I been there. Lot of old money folks on their high and mighties if I remember right.”

  “You remember right.”

  “They been rich so long they’ve had all the cracker bred out of ’em. Fancy schools and fancy food. Ain’t a bit of real white left in those motherfuckers. It’s a shame, too, considering South Carolina is where good Southerners first took a stand for what was right. Place ain’t no different than New York or Chicago, now. Worse, come to think of it. They turned their backs on their heritage. No, sir, I don’t care for Azalea Harbor, Mr. Spivey. I don’t care for it one bit.” He downed the rest of his beer and opened a second can.

  “I’ll pass your comments on to the chamber of commerce.”

  “Mr. Spivey is
backwoods, Vinton,” Gus said. “Just like you and me. Ain’t that right, Mr. Spivey?”

  “Like I said, I live in Azalea Harbor. I’m from Maiden Falls.”

  “Maiden Falls?” Vinton asked in disbelief. “On Tyler Top Mountain? You don’t look like no one I’ve ever seen that come out of Maiden Falls.”

  “I haven’t been back there in a long while.”

  “I know a boy that runs homemade brew out of there. It ain’t like regular shine. It’s got a color to it.”

  “That would be E. R. Percy,” Spivey said. “He’s a goddamn artist.”

  Vinton smiled. “Well, I’ll be damned. You really are from Maiden Falls.”

  The tension in the room eased momentarily. Gus even relaxed. Dani was still a bundle of mad. In a flash, Vinton pulled his .45 from its holster and pointed it at Spivey. “What the shit is a dressed-up hickbilly from Maiden Falls doing asking where my baby girl is at? Ain’t nothing come out of that shithole but moonshiners and pussies, and I don’t smell no sour mash on you, motherfucker.”

  Gus nearly fainted, and Dani slowly dipped into her coat pocket for her badge. Spivey kept his cool and took his last swallow of beer. Shaking the empty can he said, “You mind if I have another?”

  “Hell, yes, I mind. Answer my goddamn question.”

  Spivey held eye contact with Vinton for a brief second before replying. “The truth is I don’t know the details. I’m what you call an intermediary, a go-between. I send money to your daughter every month on behalf of my employer. I don’t know why. I’m not paid to know. I was passing through your lovely little town, and I took the initiative to get a bead on things. I’ve been flying blind on this thing, and it’s not my preferred way to do business, so I contacted the lawyer-man here to collect receipts and get the lay of the land.”

  “What’s lawyer-man got to do with this?”

  “He’s my go-between. He handles the transfer of funds for me.”

  “Fuckload of go-betweens in this deal. What funds? What’re you gettin’ paid, lawyer-man?”

  Gus’s cheeks turned bright red. “Me? Well…I mean, it’s a small…It ain’t much at all…”