Savage Rising

by C. Hoyt Caldwell

  “How much?”

  “Gus receives five percent of the total payment.”

  “How the fuck much is the payment?”

  “Enough for me to be concerned that Luna hasn’t taken possession of the most recent one. Money like this? You don’t walk away from it without a trace.”

  “And this slit? What the fuck is she doing here?”

  Spivey turned to Dani and examined her red-hued cheeks. Back to Vinton. “Right about now, I’m guessing she’s trying to decide how far to stick her foot up your ass. But I brought her because she’s a cop trying to help me find your daughter.”

  “Cop?” Vinton looked Dani over more closely. “A lady cop? In these parts? Ain’t but one lady cop…” His mind jumped to a memory. “Wait a minute…Wait. You from Baptist Flats?”

  Spivey studied the riled expression on Vinton’s face.

  Dani smiled. “I am.”

  Vinton returned the smile. “I was starting to think you was made up.”

  “Is that right?”

  He nodded. “That’s right, and Ima deal with you, sister. You can count on that. But not before I find out more about this money.” He returned his attention to Spivey. “Luna ain’t never said nothing about no money to me.”

  Spivey filed away all the questions he would have for Dani later. “She wouldn’t. Not to you.”

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means you’re a piece of shit, Mr. Pike. The last thing your daughter would want to do is tell you she’s come into a large sum of money.”

  Vinton let a laugh slip past his lips. “You’ve lost touch with mountain ways, Jack Spivey, so let me re-educate your ass on a few things. This here thing in my hand is a gun. It shoots bullets. Those bullets is made to put holes in fools like you and kill you dead. They’ll make their way over to that slit deputy soon after.”

  “I’m familiar with the concept.”

  “Then why ain’t you afraid?”

  “Let me ask you a question. That a single-stack .45?”

  “It is.”

  “Eight rounds per clip?”

  “That’s right.”

  “And you own, what, two clips for that weapon?”

  Vinton took the time to study Spivey’s face before answering. “Now, why would you ask me a thing like that?”

  “Because that’s usually the dumbass cracker special at a gun show. One firearm, two clips.”

  “How the hell do you know I got this .45 at a gun show?”

  “Your choice of literature jammed under the driver-side visor of your car suggests that guns are a lifestyle choice for you. That gun comes with a stiff dick. People who get off on guns like to gather with other perverts who get off on guns.”

  “Now, hold on,” Gus said. “I ain’t in agreement with Mr. Spivey on that point, Vinton…”

  Dani listened to Spivey with awe. “Is that right, Jack Spivey?” Vinton asked through a clenched jaw.

  “That and the fact that you couldn’t pass a background check in any reputable gun shop tells me one firearm, two clips.”

  Vinton laughed again. “Well, okay then, one gun, two clips. Who gives a shit? It ain’t gonna take but two bullets to put you and the bitch down.”

  “You call me bitch or slit one more time I’m gonna jam that gun down your fucking throat,” Dani said with a controlled pitch.

  “Hey,” Vinton barked. “The men are talking, honey. Shut your fucking mouth!”

  “You got a real problem with women, don’t you?” Spivey said with a grin.

  “You know what?” Vinton said. “I think it’s time to shoot you now.”

  Spivey laughed.

  Vinton, confused, asked, “You’re not all there, are you, Jack Spivey?”

  Spivey smirked. “That’s probably accurate, but you’re missing something, too, Mr. Pike.”

  “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

  “Ammo.”

  Vinton’s eyebrows scrunched together as he considered Spivey’s comment. “Say again?”

  “I noticed something else in your car besides a couple of copies of Guns, Tits, and Ass. There are two clips for a .45 sitting on your passenger seat. You neglected to load your weapon before you holstered it.”

  Vinton’s eyes shifted toward the parking lot as he tried to determine if he had indeed forgotten to load his gun. “Bullshit.”

  “You’re pointing a gun at me, and I’m not scared. Why do you think that is?”

  Vinton turned his eyes on his gun. He twirled the barrel down to examine the magazine base. When he did, Spivey rushed forward, grabbed the lip of the desk, and flipped it on top of Vinton Pike. The gun was dislodged from the white-haired man’s grip and tossed against the back wall in the process. Dani made a dash for it.

  “What the hell?” Gus said, stepping back.

  Spivey moved around the desk and quickly grabbed a stunned Vinton’s arm and pinned it behind his back, pressing his knee at the wrist to keep the cracker immobilized. “The man had a goddamn gun on me. Was I supposed to wait for him to fucking shoot me?”

  “But it was empty. You said it yourself.”

  “I lied.”

  Dani scooped up the .45 and aimed it at Vinton.

  “You are a dead fucking man, Spivey,” Vinton said, finally getting his bearings.

  “Your daughter, Mr. Pike. Where is she?”

  “You got no idea who you’re fucking with…”

  Spivey jammed his knee into Vinton’s wrist. “Your daughter, tell me where she is.”

  Dani should have protested Spivey’s methods, but she just couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  “I don’t know!”

  Spivey applied more pressure to the wrist. “Where is she?”

  Vinton barked out in pain. “I fuckin’ don’t know, asshole. She come up missing more than three-week ago. I swear to fucking Christ.”

  “And that doesn’t concern you? Your daughter going missing?”

  “The fuck you care if it concerns me?”

  “Because it concerns me, Mr. Pike. My concerns are yours, is that clear?”

  “Fuck off!”

  Spivey punched the cracker between the shoulder blades.

  Vinton screeched through his polluted vocal cords. “Okay, I’m concerned! I’m concerned, goddamn it!”

  “Good. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to climb behind the wheel of that ridiculous shit car of yours and drive to your brother’s. The two of you are going to mobilize the useless garbage that works for you, and you’re going to find your daughter, alive. You’re going to bring her here to the lawyer-man’s office. That work for you, Gus?”

  Gus nodded weakly.

  Vinton struggled to catch a clean breath. “What if…what if she’s…what if she ain’t alive when…when we find her?”

  “Then I’ll be forced to reconnect with my backwoods roots on your ass, Mr. Pike, and that would be unfortunate for everyone involved.”

  “That ain’t fair…”

  “Neither is having a father like you.”

  Vinton Pike began to wheeze.

  “That doesn’t sound good, Mr. Pike.” Spivey stood, and Vinton fought to regulate his breathing. “That sound good to you, Deputy?”

  “No,” Dani said, fighting an adrenaline surge. “No, it doesn’t.” She dropped the gun down by her side.

  “What the hell you doing?” Gus asked. “Keep that thing on him.”

  “No reason to,” Dani said.

  “Meeting’s over,” Spivey said.

  “I done told you the Pikes are a pile of dynamite placed next to a tire fire. He’s gonna get up and tear through here like a whirling tornado.”

  “Him?” Spivey pointed at Vinton as the lifelong smoker worked his way to his hands and knees, breathing like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “The man’s a pack away from full-blown emphysema.”

  Several seconds passed before Vinton found the strength to stand. His face was blood red and his eyeli
ds fluttered as he fought to keep from passing out.

  “Now, Vinton,” Gus said, “I didn’t have no idea this meet-up would go the way of a beat-down. I swear to the good Lord, I didn’t.”

  Vinton shifted a glassy-eyed gaze toward the lawyer-man. Without a word, he stumbled and staggered toward the door.

  Gus ran after him and reached the door as Vinton was climbing into his El Camino. When the wheezing Pike swerved out of the parking lot, the lawyer-man let out a string of profanities followed by a sarcastic, “Well, thank you very much, Mr. Spivey. Thank you very the fuck much!”

  “Not my fault you moved here for the crime.”

  “I moved here to profit off it not be a victim of it.”

  “You know what they say about playing with matches.”

  “And you know what they say about a lawyer with a price on his head?”

  Dani examined the gun and asked Spivey, “You wanna tell me why I’m here?”

  Spivey shrugged. “Element of surprise. I always bring gifts to meetings.”

  “You know, don’t you?”

  “He knows what?” Gus asked.

  “I know when I told you Luna was a Pike, you looked like I just told you someone had pissed in your coffee. That look could only mean one thing. You got a history with the Pikes. I thought the history might come in handy.”

  “Someone wanna tell me what’s going on?” Gus asked.

  Spivey and Dani said, “No,” in unison.

  “So, I was bait?” Dani asked.

  Spivey mulled over the question. “You were more like a flash grenade.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “You were brought here to disorient Vinton Pike. Hopefully he’ll pass that disorientation along.”

  “For what fucking purpose?”

  “So mistakes will be made. Mistakes that will lead us to Luna and Mac.”

  “You could have told me what you had in mind.”

  Spivey shrugged. “I suppose I could have.”

  Dani stepped over the litany of papers and useless crap that once sat on the desk. “Two things just occurred to me. I’m out of my jurisdiction, and you can fuck yourself, Spivey.” She exited the office.

  Spivey stepped over the same debris as he headed for the door.

  “Wait,” Gus said, “what the hell am I supposed to do?”

  Spivey stopped just before opening the door. “Find something to partway preach. I don’t give a fuck.”

  Chapter 24

  Otis was getting to the age where just sitting made his bones ache. He hobbled with Laura and Sarah from room to room in the sheriff’s office, turning off lights and planning their evening. Fried chicken and a movie. Sarah’s choice on the flick. Otis would be asleep fifteen minutes in anyway.

  Coming out of the break room, they noticed a sliver of light coming from the holding-cell area on the other side of the building. Otis groaned and made his way toward it, while instructing Laura to go to the front desk and have emergency calls forwarded to his cellphone.

  He reached his hand inside the room that housed three holding cells and was about to flick the light off and walk away without a second thought when he heard a cough come from inside. He looked around the doorjamb and saw Randle sprawled out on the floor of holding cell two, the back of his left hand draped over his eyes to protect him from the glare.

  “What the holy hell, son?”

  Randle didn’t respond.

  “Terry!”

  With extraordinary effort, Randle lifted his head and squinted in Otis’s direction. “Just resting my eyes until my shift starts.”

  Otis looked at his watch. “Boy, your shift started three hours ago. You should be on patrol.”

  Randle struggled mightily to his elbows. “Well, that ain’t possible…What time is it?”

  Otis snarled, turned toward Laura and Sarah, and yelled through the darkness. “You two go on and wait for me in the car. I’m right behind you.”

  “Sure thing, sugar,” Laura shouted back.

  Sarah giggled madly. “Sheriff Sugar.”

  “Keep it up, and Ima pick the movie, little bit. A war movie. From my day.”

  “You’ll do no such thing, Sheriff Sugar,” Laura said, guiding Sarah out the front door. He could hear them laughing even once they were outside.

  Otis reluctantly turned his attention to Randle. “Up, son. Off the floor. Take a seat on a bench.”

  Randle growled, his head spinning in agony as he did as Otis instructed.

  The sheriff sat beside him. “Ima tell you something I ain’t never shared with you.”

  “If this is a lecture about me being late, I gotta say just one thing. Technically I ain’t late. I’m here in uniform.”

  “Looks like you ain’t took off that uniform in a week.”

  Randle attempted a grin, but his face muscles had atrophied into an unmovable frown. “What can I say? I’m a dedicated lawman.”

  “You’re a drunk, son. That sort of thing runs in your family.”

  Randle gave Otis a red-eyed glare.

  “Senior took to the bottle, too. Not at first. Happened late in his career. He and I come on the job together. We were young, skinny shits back then. Your daddy was the best cop I’ve ever seen. Took it serious. Every bit of it.”

  Randle laughed. “Is that where you’re headed with this? You want me to be more like my daddy?”

  “No, son,” Otis said. “I want you to be less like him.”

  Randle eyed the floor and fought the spin of the room.

  “Senior was a good cop until he wasn’t. And when he went bad, he went all the way bad.”

  “So I’ve gone bad, is that what you’re saying, Otis?”

  “Hell, Deputy, you and me both know it was a short trip.”

  Randle chuckled and immediately found a thumping inside his head. “Then why am I still here?”

  Otis considered his answer before saying, “Because I made a promise to someone…”

  —

  Laura heard the truck before she saw it. She’d been talking to Sarah about school, trying to get her to open up about what she was feeling. She wanted to fix everything for Sarah. The way she couldn’t with her own daughter.

  It was the screech of the tires that pulled Laura’s attention away from Sarah. The truck was moving fast. Something was wrong. Her motherly instincts told her that. She ordered Sarah to get around to the front of the cruiser and get down.

  As Sarah turned, Laura placed herself between the girl and the truck. The sound of the engine grew louder and louder, then the repeated backfiring began. She thought it strange that little holes would erupt on the wall of the sheriff’s department. She felt a blow to her lower back and then her shoulder blade. It knocked the wind out of her, and then she felt as if her skin was on fire. By the time she smashed her face against the hood of Otis’s cruiser, the taillights of the truck were turning at the traffic light and racing toward the interstate.

  —

  “…And I’m going to keep that promise…” Otis’s head snapped around at the sound of gunfire, but he didn’t stand. He couldn’t make sense of the sound. He knew it, but he couldn’t place it.

  Randle knew immediately what it was. He had sprinted out of the holding cell, and had his firearm pulled before Otis mumbled, “Laura…Little bit…”

  Chapter 25

  Dani got the call while she and Spivey were on their way back from Titus Grove. Randle broke the news to her. She knew something was awry when she first heard him speak. He was sober, and he didn’t bitch about a hangover.

  Once the words “emergency surgery” came out of Randle’s mouth, a needle-pitched ringing started deep within her ear canal, and she felt herself passing out. Those horrible things she said about Laura. How he must hate me, she thought, and she was tempted to just let the blackness overtake her, but she sucked in a gulp of air and shook it off. “Sarah,” Dani said as she tried to gain control of the situation. “Where is she? Is she okay?
”

  “She’s fine,” Randle said before correcting himself. “She ain’t hurt. She’s a bit shook up. Friar’s gone to pick up the mommas.”

  “Good,” Dani said. She repeated it several times to convince herself that it was good, everything was good. Laura was going to be okay. Laura is good. It’s good. It’s good.

  When she hung up the phone, Spivey didn’t need to ask her what had happened. Hearing Dani’s end was enough to figure out that someone had been shot at the sheriff’s office. He asked Dani one question as he pulled his phone off of the dash. “What’s the name of the hospital?”

  Dani looked at him in a daze. “The name of the what?”

  “The hospital.” He held up the phone. “I’ll map it and get us there quick as shit.”

  “Barnwell General.”

  Spivey said the name into the phone followed by the “route” command. In less than a minute, the robotic female voice of the phone was telling Spivey which way to go. He stepped on the gas and weaved in and out of the sparse traffic.

  He made what was estimated to be a forty-five-minute trip in half that time. He never asked Dani how she was doing or if she wanted to talk because both would have been stupid questions. It was obvious how she was doing, and why the hell would she talk to a stranger? He let her stare at her phone indecisively without comment. Every once in a while she would say, “I should call Elizabeth,” but she never did.

  He didn’t know why he came into the hospital with her. This had nothing to do with him, yet there he was standing by her side while she asked for Laura’s room. The person behind the desk was new and didn’t recognize Dani. She gave the deputy the standard line about family only, and Dani stood with a sway in front of her, unable to put together a coherent argument that would get her past the information desk.

  Spivey finally spoke up. “Show her your badge, Deputy.”

  Dani turned to him. “Huh?”

  “Your badge.” He leaned past her to speak to the woman behind the desk. “She’s an officer of law. There was a shooting.”

  Dani pulled the badge out of her pocket and showed it to the woman. “I’m an officer of the law. There was a shooting.” She didn’t even realize she had repeated Spivey nearly word for word.