by Gregg Stutts
“You don’t seem that surprised by what’s happening,” she said. “Why is that?”
He stood up and took another glance outside, then turned back to Rose. “This has been coming…for a long time. I never imagined it would be Lakeside. But no, I’m not surprised.” He sat down again, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.
“You know I’m good with whatever you decide, dear,” she said. “I’m assuming you’ve already formulated a plan.”
Willy sat quietly for a moment. Rose was right. He had a plan. Putting it in motion would mean no going back though.
“Max doesn’t know about you, does he?” she asked.
Willy leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He exhaled loudly and shook his head. “No. He doesn’t know. I’ve never told him.”
Chapter 69
Max moved low and fast along the side of the car. The man in the driver’s seat never saw him coming and had the barrel of a gun in his ear before he even knew what had happened. “Don’t move,” Max said.
The man was so startled he spilled his giant soft drink all over his lap. Without turning his head, he said, “You just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Huh,” Max said. “I was thinking the same thing about you. Now, who are you?”
“Walk away now.” The man’s voice was steady. He may have been startled, but he wasn’t afraid.
“If I have to shoot you, I will,” Max said.
“Walk away now and maybe I won’t shoot you.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands.”
“You have no idea what position I’m in…Max.”
“So you are following me.”
The man slowly turned and stared at him. “Go back inside to your wife and cute little daughter. What’s her name? Oh right…Carr...”
Max didn’t wait for him to finish his sentence. In a flash, he cocked his left arm and swung his fist into the side of the man’s face. Before he could recover, Max grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into the steering wheel, knocking him out. Blood poured from his broken nose.
He moved quickly to the passenger side of the car, crawled inside and found the man’s wallet and cell phone. He shoved them into his pocket and looked for anything else that might be helpful. He tore through the glove compartment and found the registration and insurance card and took those as well.
He pulled the man off the steering wheel and leaned him back in his seat. His shirt was soaked with blood that continued to stream from the man’s nose and mouth. His body was completely limp. Max felt for a pulse and found it. Fortunately, he hadn’t killed him. He looked up and down the street. No one was outside and no cars were approaching. Hopefully, no one happened to be looking out their window. He sprinted across the street and into his house.
“What happened?” Michelle said.
“I knocked him out.”
“You what?”
“Yeah, left hook, then slammed his face into the steering wheel.”
“I thought you said you were going to be careful,” she said.
“I didn’t like his tone.”
“So now what?” she said.
“Now we get out of here until we can figure out who this guy is and who he’s working for, because I’m pretty sure when he wakes up he’s not going to be very happy with me.”
“You’re going to need a different shirt,” she said. “You’ve got blood all over you.”
Max changed clothes then they threw together a bag, grabbed Carrie’s diaper bag and loaded the van. Max kept a close eye on the car while making several trips to load the van. It was too dark to see his victim, but the door remained shut and the car hadn’t moved. “Do we have any cash here?” Max said before they left.
“Already thought of that,” she said. “I’ve got $800.
“$800? Where’d you get that?”
“Christmas money I’ve been putting away. I was going to get you a new set of golf clubs.”
“So that punch just cost me a set of clubs?”
Michelle smiled and said, “Merry Christmas, honey.”
They hurried outside and got in the van. Max started the engine and backed out of the driveway, then slowed next to the car so Michelle could get a look at the guy. “How’s he look?”
“Almost as bad as the guy I beat up last year,” she said. “Let’s get out of here.”
At the end of the block, Max turned right to take them toward I-49. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the wallet, cell phone and vehicle information he’d taken. “See who this guy is.”
Chapter 70
“Who still has a flip phone?” Michelle said. “I hardly remember how these things work.”
“If this guy was supposed to be keeping an eye on me, then just sitting in front of the house drinking a giant soft drink with the window down…well, it just doesn’t seem all that smart.”
“What’s your point?” she said.
“I don’t know. I got the sense the guys in the black SUV were…a little sharper,” he said.
“Maybe he’s not with those guys,” she said.
“Well, if he’s not one of them, then who is he?”
As they drove west toward I-49, a light rain began to fall.
Michelle opened the wallet. “His name is Leon McQueen.”
“Leon McQueen? Seriously? Sounds like the name of a B-list actor,” he said. “What else?”
“He lives in Little Rock. Born in 1972,” she said. “He’s got a Bank of America credit card, a Shell card and a Simmons Bank debit card.”
“That it?”
“He’s got $16 in cash and a grocery store receipt for $25 worth of beef jerky.”
“I thought his car smelled like meat,” Max said.
“So, what does that tell us?” she said. “He’s forty-something, lives in Little Rock and has a thing for beef jerky.”
“Try Googling him, Shelle,” he said as he turned south onto I-49. A minute later, they passed the sign showing Fayetteville was 22 miles away.
“By the way, where are we going?”
The rain was beginning to fall harder now. “I thought we’d get away from Lakeside, but not too far. I’ve got practice in the morning.”
“Fayetteville?” she said.
“I guess,” he said. “Let’s finish figuring this guy out and then I’ll call Willy. So what else you got?”
“Not much,” she said. “And I don’t see him on Facebook.”
She pulled a slip of paper from his wallet. “It’s a phone number,” she said.
“Local?”
“Area code 202,” she said. “That’s Washington, D.C.” She looked at him and asked, “Should we call it?”
“Dial the number on Leon’s phone, then let me talk,” he said.
Michelle typed the number. “Oh wow.”
“What is it?” he said.
“The number pulled up a contact,” she said
“Whose number is it?”
“Blair Morgan.”
Max slammed both hands on the steering wheel. “Why am I not surprised?”
“What’s strange is the 202 area code,” she said. “Why does she have a Washington, D.C. phone number?”
“Hit enter,” he said. “Let’s see what we can find out.”
She pressed enter and handed the phone to Max. After two rings, he heard a woman’s voice, “What is it?”
“Hello, Blair,” Max said.
There was silence for a moment, then, “Who is this?”
“Well, I can tell you who it isn’t,” he said. “It’s certainly not your boy, Leon.”
“What do you want?”
“Answers,” he said.
Silence again. “Whoever you are, you obviously have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Funny how I keep hearing that.”
“Well, then clearly, you don’t listen very well. And I can assure you, there’s nothing funny about this,” she said.
“Whoever you are, you’re in way over your head.”
“Well, I sure appreciate your concern, but I’ve always done okay taking care of myself,” he said. “How about we meet tomorrow and have a little talk?”
“You’re wasting my time,” she said. “I’m hanging up now.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” he said.
“And why is that?”
“Because I know.”
“You know what?” she said, sounding more agitated.
“Well, for starters, I know you lied about how Dan Jenkins died.”
She hesitated. “The cop-killer? I don’t think so.”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “Actually, it was your boyfriend who shot those cops.”
Another hesitation. He had her.
“My boyfriend, huh? Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“The Freedom Protection Act must really mean a lot to you,” he said. “It has to, if you’re willing to kill people over it.”
“Listen carefully to me, whoever you are, it’s in your best interests to forget whatever it is you think you know and just move on,” she said.
“Your concern for me is touching. Now you listen to me, Blair…it’s in your best interests to meet me….” But he had no idea where or when. He was making it all up as he went along. “…tomorrow at noon at the Northwest Arkansas Mall in Fayetteville.”
She didn’t respond.
“I’ll see you there.” He hung up and handed the phone to Michelle.
“So, you’ve got a plan?” she said.
“Not really,” he said.
“But you told her to meet you at the mall tomorrow at noon.”
“I know. That just sort of popped into my head.”
“Popped into your head?”
“No good?”
“Well, you realize, of course, that as soon as our friend Leon wakes up, Blair will know it was you who stole his phone. Even more, she now knows that whomever she just talked to was at the marina that night. Once Leon tells her it was you who stole his phone, she’ll know it was you who saw and heard things you shouldn’t have.”
He was quiet for a moment as they passed Mercy Hospital where Sarah died four years earlier after a year-long battle with leukemia. “I guess I started the clock ticking, didn’t I?”
“That you did, my dear.”
Chapter 71
Wednesday, August 13th
Max opened his eyes and rolled his head to the side to see the digital clock. He’d been awake for what felt like hours. It was 6:03 a.m. He dressed quietly, then slipped out while Michelle and Carrie were still asleep. In the motel lobby, he poured two cups of coffee and took them back to the room. By the time he got back, Michelle was stirring. He handed her a cup and sat next to her on the bed.
“What’s your plan?” she said.
“I hate to do it, but I’m going to tell Dave Turner I won’t be at practice today. I don’t have a choice. Like you said, the clock is ticking. Even if I wanted to go to practice, I’m sure Leon or somebody would be there waiting for me.”
“If you don’t trust the Lakeside police, then what about the State Police or the FBI or...someone?” Michelle said.
He walked to the window and drew back the curtain. Their room looked out on the woods behind the motel. It wasn’t much of a view, but for $69.00, it wasn’t bad. In two weeks, when the Razorbacks opened their home football schedule, the same room would go for at least double if not triple the price. “I’ve thought about it. I just don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?” she said.
“Here’s what’s confusing me. The lack of attention. The lack of any investigations. Think about it. We have two dead city councilmen. Four dead cops. And a law that robs us of our constitutional rights. Why isn’t anyone reporting it? Why hasn’t the governor stepped in? Why hasn’t he ordered the State Police to investigate? What about the attorney general? Is everyone going to sit by and do nothing?”
“I don’t know. I agree it is strange though.” She took the lid off her coffee and blew on it before taking a sip.
“None of it makes sense. A citywide gun ban, including hunting rifles and shotguns? Speech being monitored by the government…even in churches?”
“It sounds like especially in churches,” she said.
“Exactly, Shelle. So, who are we supposed to trust?”
“But if it’s as big as you’re making it out to be…how are we possibly going to come out of this…” She stopped.
“Alive?” he said.
He sat next to her and held her hand. “I know I haven’t talked much about it, but I’ve been trying to read the Bible more. I’m trying to learn how to listen to God better.”
“I’ve noticed,” she said. “And I appreciate it. It means a lot to me.”
“Well, I’ve been reading in the Old Testament, and I read the book of Esther the other day. By the way, did you know it’s the only book in the Bible that doesn’t actually mention God?”
“I did know that,” she said with a smile.
“Well, here’s my point…when that guy is going to try and kill all the Jews, Mordecai hears about it and tells Esther, but she’s afraid to talk to the king about it because he might get upset with her.”
Michelle nodded and sipped her coffee.
“Well, here’s the part that really got me,” he said. “Mordecai says to her that maybe she has her royal position for a such a time as this. Or something like that.”
“And what did that make you think?” she said.
“That maybe I know about the murders for a reason, Shelle. What if, like Esther, I need to be faithful to do what’s right here?”
They sat quietly on the bed watching Carrie sleeping in her travel crib, both aware of the potential cost.
“Here’s what I know, Shelle…I’m the only witness to those cops getting killed. I’m the only one who knows for sure that Blair Morgan was lying about how they died. If I do nothing, she gets away with murder. There’s no one else to stop her.”
Michelle closed her eyes. Max held her and watched as Carrie stretched.
“I can’t say I’m not scared, but I trust you,” she said. “What do we need to do?”
He looked at the clock. “It’s only 6:30. I think what we need to do before Carrie wakes up is…” He pushed her back on the bed and kissed her while unbuttoning her shirt.
“I’m liking this plan,” she said.
“I love you,” he said.
Michelle pulled him close. “I love you, too.”
Chapter 72
Willy set the phone down. “Max and Michelle and the baby are at a motel in south Fayetteville just off the interstate.” He parted the curtain slightly. “And we still have a visitor out front.”
Rose loaded the last of the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. “Now what?” she said.
“Pack us an overnight bag.” He thought for a moment. “Make that two nights just to be safe.”
Willy removed his keys from the drawer in the kitchen. “I’m going to leave in my truck. This guy will follow me, but it won’t be any problem to lose him. Wait a few minutes after I leave, then you take the car and go to Wal-Mart. I’ll pick you up there at…” Willy checked the time. “…nine o’clock.”
Ten minutes later, Willy walked outside, got in his truck and backed out of the driveway. At the end of the street, he turned east toward downtown Lakeside. The car he’d seen parked outside his house followed about a hundred yards behind. He made a series of four right turns when he got to downtown, which put him back in the same direction he’d been heading. The car behind him followed his every move. Now there could be no doubt he was under surveillance.
At the I-49 interchange, he turned onto the ramp taking him north. The dark, late-model car with tinted windows continued to follow him. Willy stayed in the left lane for several miles until he pulled up close behind an 18-wheeler. The first exit for Bentonville was o
ne mile ahead. He reset the trip odometer to zero.
The timing had to be just right. It was a move he hadn’t used in over thirty years, but it was all coming back to him now. He watched the tenths-of-a-mile tick by. With just three-tenths-of-a-mile to the exit, he pulled out from behind the truck into the middle lane and accelerated to pull alongside it. A hundred yards behind him, his pursuer pulled into the middle lane as well.
