“You most likely had a spotter, too. My gut says you’re looking at six suspects involved in the shooting.”
“Six?” Dani said, feigning surprise. She couldn’t help but be impressed that Nola and Spivey had come to the same conclusion.
“Yeah, six, but that’s not the end of it.”
Dani’s gaze narrowed. “Explain.”
“This wasn’t a gang shooting or a bunch of drunk rednecks shooting up the sheriff’s office. These fuckers were trained.”
“So?”
“So, they weren’t just trained. They were trained specifically for this operation. When you train for something like this, you have the trainees and the trainers.”
“I’m not following…”
It was Nola’s turn to cut Dani off. “The six shitheads involved in the shooting were the trainees. That leaves a second tier of suspects to worry about. The trainers.”
Dani gave Nola as cold a stare as she could muster. Secretly, she was surprised that she had pointed out something Spivey hadn’t mentioned.
“And if I had to guess, there’s a financial backer in the mix, too. That means there’s a lot more than six suspects involved.”
The gurgle and hiss of the coffeemaker somewhat soothed Dani’s inflamed nerves. “What does Spivey have to do with all this?”
“He lied to me.”
“Yeah, he does that.”
“I asked him if he was former military, and he said he wasn’t.”
“Well, in the long list of shit he’s lied about, that appears way down at the bottom.”
“No, listen,” Nola said, sounding frustrated. “He’s got high-speed soldier written all over him. Guaran-damn-tee it. The kind of soldier that would know how to pull off this kind of hit in his sleep. You ask me, Jack Spivey should be your lead suspect. He’s not one of the six, but he’s in that second tier.”
Dani replayed every conversation she’d had with Spivey since they’d met. She was about to dismiss Nola’s theory out of hand when a thought occurred to her. Spivey was the reason she wasn’t in town when the shooting occurred. He was the one who talked her into going to Titus Grove to question Vinton Pike.
“I got one more piece of speculation to throw out at you,” Nola said.
The coffeemaker let out its final elongated hiss, and Dani practically lunged for a cup to fill with the magical elixir. “Let’s hear it.”
“You don’t spend the risk to train for something like this without every detail worked out. You know everything. You know the terrain, schedules, weather, every fucking thing is planned to the tiniest detail.”
Dani sipped some coffee and felt its magic properties seep through her veins. “What’s your point?”
“My point is, that above all, you know your target.”
Dani stopped mid-swallow.
“Your receptionist…Laura, she wasn’t gunned down just because she was in front of the station. She was the target.”
Dani cocked an eyebrow. The distrust she had felt for Nola was slowly evaporating. The former MP was spouting off theories about the shooting with childlike enthusiasm. This was the woman’s passion. You couldn’t fake something like that.
Dani retrieved a cup for Nola and filled it with coffee. “My uncle, the sheriff, he’s out. Indefinitely. Personal matter.”
Nola smelled her coffee before taking a sip. “Sorry to hear that. I hope it’s not serious.”
“The point is that leaves us short a man.”
“I see.”
“We need someone to fill in. Someone with experience.”
“Uh-huh. Right.”
“Someone who can subdue Randle and slap his own handcuffs on him.”
Nola nearly spit her coffee across the room when it became clear what Dani had in mind. “You’re offering me a job?”
Dani shook her head. “I wanna offer you a job. Temporary. But I gotta know one thing. What’re you really doing in Baptist Flats?”
Nola thought about sticking to her story that she was just passing through, but she knew Dani would see through it. “I’m looking for my father.”
“Father?”
“Don’t know him. Never met him. All I know is he’s from Baptist Flats.”
“You got a name?”
Nola nodded. “I do.”
“You wanna tell me?”
“I don’t. Not yet. Someday, maybe.”
“Why do I get the feeling you ain’t looking for a happy family moment?”
Nola shrugged. “Would you be happy to meet your mother’s rapist?”
Dani drew in a breath of alarm and held it for a beat before releasing it. “About the job. You in?”
Chapter 32
A caravan of three customized RVs rambled through the twists and turns of the narrow roads en route to the Gray Rise compound. There were four men and eight women on each RV. All drunk off their bared asses. The male-female ratio was tilted in the men’s favor as their reward for the sacrifice they were about to make. The women’s reward was money enough to buy down the mountain of regret for their choice of career.
When the caravan reached the compound, an electronic gate opened and each RV traveled through, one after the other. One Gray Rise recruit took time away from the carnal buffet and pulled back the shades of the window to take in the militia wonderland. He saw trees and a fifteen-foot wall topped with razor wire and not much else. He and the other recruits would learn that the compound comprised 150 acres of forested land with a couple dozen buildings that served as quarters, classrooms, storage, and dining halls, as well as a few dilapidated structures that served as staging areas for combat training.
When the RVs pulled around a gravel circular driveway in front of a large, ornate residence, the doors opened and a group of barking men dressed in gray fatigues ordered the women to get “wrapped and packed” because the party was over.
The women were ushered out of the RVs half-dressed and fully humiliated. A retired school bus awaited them at the far end of the circular driveway, where Tawny and his latest wife had more modest attire for the women to wear for their trip back to Vegas.
The Gray Rise drill sergeants climbed back onto the RVs and berated the recruits until they scrambled barefoot out onto the sharp-stone surface of the road. Some of the men had put on a modicum of clothing, but most stood at attention on command in nothing but their birthday suits.
The Gray Rise rank and file gathered around the edge of the grass and shared a joke or two at the new recruits’ expense, never mind that these new men were fitter and more capable than any of the fully initiated members of the militia. This hazing was their way of establishing the hierarchy. Those who were Gray Rise dealt out the shit. Those who wished to be Gray Rise swam in the shit.
The double doors to the large home opened, and Harley stepped out in his fatigues. One of the men in the crowd shouted, “Master general on the grounds!”
The other men roared, “Rah-hoot!” in unison.
Harley strolled through a sea of militiamen and stopped to examine the new recruits. He walked down the line eyeing every new man from genitals to eyeballs. When he reached the last man, he turned to his soldiers and announced, “It appears we’ll need to stock up on extra-small rubbers, boys!”
The men let out a laugh and punctuated it with another “Rah-hoot!”
Harley addressed the new recruits. “Hope you had a good time on the ride here, boys, ’cause the shit is about to get real ugly real fast. We are here to make you warriors. Warriors are torn asunder before they are rebuilt into ill-tempered motherfuckers, and that’s what you will be: ill-tempered, mean, nail-eating, rock-chewing, pain-loving motherfuckers.”
“Rah-hoot!”
The recruits stood dazed. The former special-ops soldiers among them came close to breaking ranks and smashing the hell out of Harley’s face, but they dug deep to keep their composure. They were here because they believed in the cause.
“We are going to run you through hell and back becau
se hell is the perfect training ground to prepare for the war that awaits us. We are the Gray Rise, and we are America. We are the true patriots. The ruling class will look at we do and call us murderers and terrorists. They will say we are part of the criminal class. Well, boys, criminal is just another word for rebel, so I say own the label. We are criminals, and we will bring back the true America!”
This time with the recruits joining in, the compound erupted into the loudest “Rah-hoot!”
With that, Harley ordered the drill sergeants to get uniforms and supplies for the newcomers.
Just before sticking a cigar into his mouth he made one last pronouncement. “Hell is officially open for business, boys!”
Chapter 33
Dani gathered Friar and Randle in Otis’s office, and perched herself on the edge of the desk. Her feet, crossed at the ankles, dangled a full twelve inches from the floor. She had never looked so tiny as she did in that moment.
Friar wore a Kevlar riot-gear vest over his uniform and held tight to a pump-action Remington. He shifted his attention from unexplained noise to unexplained noise outside of the office. A gleam of sweat decorated his upper lip. “Ain’t we cornered back in here?”
Randle rolled his eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about, numb nuts?”
“I’m talking about we got shot up all to shit last night, and unless I missed the news, ain’t nobody been pegged for it. Jamming us all back in this room just don’t seem altogether smart to me.”
“You ain’t altogether smart,” Randle said. “They ain’t gonna hit us again, not right off. Too much heat.”
“What heat? I don’t see no heat! I see three deputies in charge of a whole goddamn county! We ain’t got no sheriff to direct us…”
“Hey!” Dani clapped her hands to get their attention. “Let’s just calm down and talk this over.”
Randle and Friar shot each other their final eat-shit-and-die looks before directing their gazes toward Dani.
“Friar is right. We are down a man, and something needs to be done about that.”
Friar threw a fuck-you smile in Randle’s direction.
Randle ignored him. “What’s to be done about that is to get Otis back in here.”
“That ain’t happening. We gotta head in another direction.”
“No,” Randle said in a panic. “Elections ain’t that far off. If it gets out that he took time right after a shooting, it’s gonna look like he’s chicken shit. He’s gotta be here.”
Dani was shocked by Randle’s tone. It showed a level of caring she didn’t think he was capable of. “Relax. Ain’t no one gonna know Otis ain’t here. That’s news that ain’t to leave this building. As far as the outside knows, he’s sitting at this desk, directing things just like normal.”
“Then how we supposed to bring extra help in unnoticed?” Randle asked.
“Well, Otis put in a request for a new hire a while back, and it just come through. We ain’t doing nothing but filling that position. We’ll make a temporary hire to start and move into something long term once Otis is back and can give his seal of approval.”
Randle laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “Awe-right. Suppose that’ll work. We could get Francis Toll, the boy that works security at the slaughterhouse. He’s big. Scary as shit. He’s won the turkey shoot a couple years running.”
“Position’s been filled,” Dani said, hopping off the desk.
“Filled?” Friar said.
Dani moved to the door. “As of this morning.”
“Hold on,” Randle said. “Don’t we get a say?”
“You do as long as that say is yes to my hire.” She leaned out the door and yelled, “Come on in.”
“Who the fuck said you could go off on your own and make a hire without involving me or Friar?”
Dani shrugged as she walked back to the desk. “Otis. More or less.”
Friar and Randle snapped their heads around when they heard feet shuffle past the threshold of the office door.
Nola stood in an ill-fitting deputy’s uniform, smiling as warmly as she could muster.
“What the shit, Dani?” Randle protested.
Friar’s eyes opened wide.
“Deputies Friar and Randle meet Deputy Consultant Babineaux. The County Executive’s office says we ain’t allowed to call her a deputy in training until they get her military records and she clears a background check.”
“You can’t be serious,” Randle said.
“She’s black,” Friar said, and then added, “No offense.”
Nola looked at him with a confused expression.
“She’s a former marine,” Dani said. “Military police.”
“This is bullshit,” Randle insisted.
“We ain’t never had a black on the job,” Friar said, followed by another, “No offense.”
“A black?” Nola said, turning her confused look into an irritated one.
“All I’m saying is that if we’re gonna go…that way, it at least oughta be a black fella. We don’t even know this one.”
“This one?” Nola responded.
“I’m coming off wrong,” Friar said. “I ain’t used to talking in front of you folks…”
“Friar!” Dani shouted. “You need to shut the fuck up!”
“What? I’m just saying I talk to mostly white people about this and that.”
Dani shook her head. “Nola, I’m so sorry.”
“I’ve heard worse. He’s more stupid than he is racist.”
“That’s all I’m saying,” Friar added.
Randle stood. “I ain’t having this, Dani. Friar’s dumb as shit, but he’s saying what needs to be said. This deputy consultant of yours has got two strikes on her, and I ain’t sorry for saying it. A black woman in the department puts us all in danger. One woman in uniform is hard enough…”
“You two are about the most ignorant assholes I have ever had the displeasure of knowing,” Dani said. “You’re too stupid to get out of your own way. The discussion is done. Deputy Consultant Babineaux, the black woman who kicked your ass, Randle, in a bar full of crackers, is more than qualified to be in this department. You can get on board, or I can look for replacements for the both of you.”
Randle gritted his teeth before storming out of Otis’s office.
“Hold up,” Friar said. “She kicked Randle’s ass?”
“She did,” Dani said.
Friar smiled and stood. “Welcome to the department, Deputy.”
“Deputy Consultant,” Nola said with a nod. “It’s temporary.”
Friar shrugged. “Whatever. You kicked Randle’s ass. I’d make you mayor if I could,” he said as he exited the office.
“That went well,” Dani said after some reflection.
“What about Deputy Randle? He’s not exactly thrilled.”
“He’ll come around,” Dani said. “He always does.”
Chapter 34
The Nickajack Lake rest stop was full of tourists making their way between Nashville and Chattanooga. Spivey parked his Honda and marveled at the number of dogs taking shits in the designated dog-run areas. As he walked to the visitors’ center, he wondered to himself when people had started traveling everywhere with their fucking mutts.
He pulled the glass door of the building open and scanned the area until he found a man dressed like him at a display case full of brochures. If not for the man’s salt-and-pepper hair, he and Spivey could have been twins.
Spivey approached.
Without turning the man said, “Fucking Rock City. You ever been, Jack?”
“No, haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Pleasure? You know what Rock City is? It’s fucking rocks, Jack. Rocks. There’s some walking bridges and shit. A waterfall. But mostly rocks. I got rocks at my house. I should charge people admission to see that shit…”
“Mac’s missing.” Spivey glanced around to see if he was overheard.
“Not a conversation w
e should be having.”
“Fuck that. She’s in trouble.”
“Yeah, that’s kind of the deal with what we do.”
“Her informant is missing, too.”
“You’re off protocol, Jack.”
“Again, fuck that. We need to detail this.”
The man began flipping through a brochure for Ruby Falls.
“Did you hear me?”
“I heard you. We don’t do details. You know that. Detailing puts our business in front of a House subcommittee and questions get asked, Jack. We risk a departmental audit, and that’s a bad thing. You know why that’s a bad thing, Jack?”
“I don’t give a fuck…”
“It’s a bad thing because up until we do this detail you’re talking about, Congress doesn’t know we exist. They don’t know there’s a department to audit.”
“So, what? We’re just going to do nothing? She’s in trouble, goddamn it.”
“Jack, this how the ORO works. You knew that before you signed up. Hell, it’s why you signed up.” He showed Jack the brochure for Ruby Falls. “I think I’ll check this out. This actually looks interesting.”
“If you’re not going to help me, then I’ll go to…”
The man held up his hand to stop Spivey from saying something stupid. “You finish that threat and all that will happen is that you’ll be dead, and there won’t be anyone left to look for Mac.” He smiled and said, “You wanna see Ruby Falls with me?”
Spivey stared at him with abject hate.
“No? All right, your loss.” With that the man exited the visitors’ center.
Spivey stood as tourists bustled from one display of brochures to the next. He was barely aware they were even there. His mind closed around the fact that one of the few people he cared about on this planet was in real trouble, and for the first time in his life he felt hopeless, mainly because he rarely hoped for anything.
Chapter 35
Dani could only apologize for Randle and Friar so much before it started sounding insincere, so she invited Nola to go on patrol with her. It was the least boring of the boring shit Baptist Flats deputies were required to do.
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