“You don’t want to make that call, buddy. The Chief of Police won’t like it,” the driver said.
“We can’t let you make that call,” said the other guy.
“You don’t want to move. There’s a long-range rifle pointed this way. Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m bluffing.”
“I don’t believe you. The only other people here are a bunch of women,” the driver smarted off.
“Not that they couldn’t blow your balls off, but we don’t need to involve them,” Mitchell replied.
When Thomas moved to make the call, the driver lunged at him. Mitchell held up his middle finger, and Evan placed the perfect shot at the driver’s feet. He jumped back with his hands in the surrender position. “Put your hands on the hood and don’t move again,” Mitchell repeated.
“The Chief is just gonna let us go, you know that, right?”
“Dude, you passed the town limit sign a little ways back. You’re in the county now. Chief Taylor has no say out here. You’ll answer to Sheriff Cahill.”
“I’m sure he can be bought, too,” the driver said to his partner.
His passenger said, “I sure hope so.”
Mitch furrowed his brow. These guys were either confirming his suspicions about Curtis or were trying to make them believe he was dirty.
“What are you doing on my land?” Mitch asked again.
“Lookin’ for proof the river runs along the back of this property,” the driver said.
“I don’t know you, and this property is very clearly marked ‘Posted,’ so please tell me why you’d think it’s okay to come on it,” Mitchell responded.
Before the man could answer, two Sheriff’s Deputies drove up then Sheriff Cory Cahill himself. “Mitchell, we received a call about some trespassers. This ‘em?” Sheriff Cahill asked.
“Yes sir, Sheriff,” he replied.
“Deputies, cuff these fine gentlemen so I can have a talk with ‘em,” the Sheriff said just before he spat out tobacco juice. “You boys want to tell me what you’re doin’ on Posted property?”
“Just wanted to see if the river bordered this property, sir,” the driver said.
“How ‘bout you, young man? You ain’t talkin’ too much,” the Sheriff asked the passenger.
“Just helping my friend find out where the river runs,” he replied.
“I see. So y’all don’t own a map? Those fancy phones don’t show y’all the river? Y’all think it’s polite to come onto people’s private property without permission? You boys mind if my deputies take a look in your fine car?”
The driver and the passenger looked at each other. Mitchell didn’t think they knew which question to answer first. “We can do it here or at the station, your choice. It’ll be faster here and a lot less messy, too.”
With a voice of resignation, the driver said, “The keys are in it.”
One of the deputies popped the trunk while the other looked inside the car. The Deputy looking inside the car called, “Found something.”
The Sheriff ambled to him. “That looks like marijuana.”
“Yes sir, Sheriff. It’s enough for simple possession,” the Deputy responded.
“Um, Sheriff. You may want to look at this,” said the Deputy at the trunk.
The first Deputy walked where Mitchell and Thomas were standing. “Mr. Riverton, the Sheriff would like you to step around to the trunk for a second. I’ll watch these guys.”
Mitchell looked at Thomas, who shrugged, before walking to the back of the car. When he got to the trunk of the car, the Sheriff said, “Mitchell, we found a hacksaw, rope, and a heavy-duty trash bag. Why the hell do they need that to smoke some dope? Unless they were cuttin’ down a small tree to smoke it under, that shit don’t make sense.”
Mitchell lowered his voice so the two trespassers couldn’t hear him. “Sheriff, last night, someone shot one of our steer along the river with what we assume is an automatic rifle. We’ve already buried it so they wouldn’t be able to find it. I believe these two were coming to cut the head off and take it back for proof.”
“These items aren’t illegal, but the pot is enough for simple possession to go along with the trespassing if you want to press charges. Do you want to press charges?”
“Yes sir. What do I need to do?”
“Deputy Smith, here, will take the report and file the charges since they’re still on your land. They’ve been caught in the act so to speak. They won’t be arraigned until tomorrow, though. That is, unless they have a lawyer and we have to wait on ‘em to get here. Court starts at nine o’clock sharp if you wanna be there.”
“Yes sir, I do.”
“Sheriff, they shot at us. Are they gonna face charges for attempted murder?” the driver asked.
“First off, boy, you’re on their property, so they have the right to shoot you if they damn well please. If who I think’s on the butt end of that rifle, he missed on purpose, and you better be damn thankful,” the Sheriff responded and looked at Mitchell with his brows raised. Mitchell looked him in the eye and nodded.
Sheriff Cahill nodded his head and repeated, “Yep, damn thankful.” As he passed the unwelcomed guests on his way to his vehicle, he told his deputies, “Load ‘em up, boys. We’re takin’ ‘em in. Mitchell, if it’s alright with you, I’m gonna have Deputy Smith move their car to the side of your driveway until Jimmy can tow it in. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No sir,” he replied, as if he had a choice.
He and Thomas just stood there and watched everyone do what they were supposed to do. As soon as they left, Mitchell walked back to his truck to park it around back with the other vehicles. By the time Evan got the horse back in the barn and walked to Mitchell’s truck, all of the commotion was over. Thomas met them as Mitchell stepped out and Evan arrived.
“Did you get a look at them through the scope?” Thomas asked.
“Yeah. The passenger was Sam, the DEA agent,” he replied.
“And the driver?” Mitchell inquired.
“Never seen him before.”
“Just so you know, that’s the car they were working on at Dick’s on Friday. At the time, I got a look in the trunk, but didn’t see anything. Maybe Jimmy’ll let us look under the hood when he gets here,” Mitchell said.
“What’d they find?” Evan asked.
“One Deputy found some pot inside the car. It’s enough for a simple possession charge.”
“Planted?”
“I don’t think so. The Deputy looked like a kid who hasn’t been out of the academy long,” Mitchell replied.
“He hasn’t. Maybe a couple of months. He lost his cookies on the first motorcycle wreck he worked…looked like shit when he showed up at the ER to take a statement from the guy in the car. I don’t think he realized how much damage asphalt can do,” Thomas calmly stated.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah. In the trunk were rope, a hacksaw, and a heavy-duty garbage bag.”
“You don’t think…” Evan’s voice trailed off.
“I do. Looks like they weren’t expecting anyone to be here and were going to decapitate the steer. Proof that the gun they shot was accurate,” Mitchell finished.
“Damn, little brother. You sure you’re not into detective work, too?” Evan joked.
“Why else would they have a hacksaw?”
“If Sam weren’t there, I’d say those items could also be used for a good ole-fashioned hangin’.”
“Nah, they’d have to bring more than two guys,” Mitchell said with a chuckle. “Seriously, they’ll be arraigned in the morning. I’m going.”
“Speaking of going. I’ve got to work tonight. I’m going to grab Cat and head out,” Thomas said.
“Yeah, you got pretty good at grabbing her last night,” Evan said with a smile.
“Shut the hell up,” Thomas retorted.
“It’s about damn time,” Mitchell chimed in.
“I don’t want to hear anything out of you, ass
hole. I had to watch you play grab ass with my sister last night. I swear to God, Mitchell. If you hurt her, I’ll fucking kill you.” Thomas’ finger was in his face.
He held up his hands. “If I hurt her, I’ll let you. She’s my world, Thomas. My. Fucking. World,” he made sure to pronounce every word so Thomas knew exactly where he was coming from.
As soon they got inside, the girls were standing there wide-eyed, still holding the guns.
Evan laid down his rifle. “Y’all did good, ladies. I’ll take those now,” he said as he took the guns from them.
Mitchell hugged Kayla tight. “It’s all good, sweetheart. You’re safe,” he whispered as he kissed her temple.
After Evan put away the guns, he went back to Ginger. “Hey, darlin’. I’ve got to go brush the horses, and you need to fill me in on this shootin’ you’ve been doin’, Annie Oakley,” he said as they walked back outside.
Thomas stood in front of Cat. “Honey, are you ready to go? I’ve got to work tonight and thought we’d spend some time together before I have to leave.”
“I’d like that,” Cat said quietly with a shy smile on her face.
Kayla squeezed Mitchell’s hand and beamed up at him with emotion in her eyes as she watched her brother and Cat. She was bouncing on her toes but he kept a firm grip on her hand. He gave her the tiniest head shake possible and leaned to her ear, “Let them ease into this. You and Cat can talk later.” She gave him a frown as she narrowed her eyes. “If y’all make a big deal out of this, your brother will walk away. He needs to do this at his pace. He doesn’t take relationships lightly.”
Kayla hugged his neck, “I know that, but Cat will be good for him.”
He kissed her on the cheek and returned the whisper, “He needs to figure that out for himself. Butt out.”
She stuck her bottom lip out, and he kissed it. “Stop it,” he said quietly.
“Hey, man. Thanks for having us over,” Thomas said as he shook Mitchell’s hand. “Even though I meant what I said earlier, thanks for that.” Thomas nodded toward his sister hugging Cat goodbye.
“Me, too, man. Every word. And you owe me one for not letting her butt in. Don’t worry, I’ll collect soon,” Mitchell said with a wide-ass grin on his face, slapping Thomas on the back.
The girls were giggling as they walked toward the door. Mitchell didn’t even want to know what they were saying. Cat waved at him when he heard her tell Kayla that she’d call her for a girls’ lunch.
Thomas kissed his sister on the cheek before he got into his car. “Call me if anything happens. I go on at seven.”
“Will do,” Mitchell answered. He and Kayla stood arm in arm, watching them drive off.
“Hey, where did Ginger and Evan go?”
“They’re tending to the horses,” Mitchell said as he wiggled his brows. “Let’s go inside before we hear something we don’t want to.”
He filled her in on everything that happened with the Sheriff. “As much as I don’t want you out of my sight, I don’t want you going to the arraignment tomorrow morning. Please stay here with Evan and Ginger.”
“The men will be back tomorrow, so Evan won’t be going out. You and I both know what he and Ginger will be doing. How about you drop me off at my parents’ house?”
“Hmmm. Since nothing has happened there, that should be okay. But stay away from Dick’s house,” he said in a voice that didn’t warrant argument.
“Deal.”
15
Harley Youngener and Sam Booker were put in separate cars and didn’t see each other again until they were sitting in a holding cell together. Sam had called a number he memorized when he first went undercover. Harley didn’t have anyone he could call. He sure couldn’t call his Dad.
“Sam, you usin’ a public defender?” Harley asked.
“No, man. I’ve got my own lawyer. He’ll be here in the morning,” Sam said.
“How’d you do that? Carlos said we’d be good if we got arrested in town. He ain’t said nothin’ about the county.”
“Look, Harley, I don’t talk about my family much, but they’ll do whatever it takes to keep my name out of the papers. They’ll make me go home and work in the family business for this, though. You feel me?”
“I feel ya, dude. I just hope this public defender knows what he’s doin’. I ain’t goin’ down for some shit that ain’t even mine. I shot that damn gun last night to show the buyer how good it was, but I don’t smoke no dope.”
“Harley Youngener. Your attorney is here, so we can ask you some questions now,” an officer said as he approached the cell.
“Yessir.”
“Turn around, lift your hands back, and hold onto the bars.” The Deputy cuffed Harley and took him out of the holding cell.
He walked Harley down the hall to an interrogation room and put him in a chair beside his public defender, whom he’d never met. They were across from Officer Smith who was sitting in front of a large two-way mirror. “Mr. Youngener, I’m Bernard Givens. I’m here to represent you. Officer Smith is going to ask you some questions. You can answer him unless I tell you not to. Understand?”
“Yessir.”
“Was that your car you were driving today, or your friend’s, Mr. Samuel Booker?” Officer Smith asked.
“That’s my car. Sam, he drives a motorcycle.”
“I see. Mr. Youngener, whose marijuana did we find in your car?”
“I don’t know. I don’t smoke no dope. I never saw Sam smoke none either.”
“Well, we have a problem then. You see, one of you owns that pot.”
“It’s not mine.”
“Mr. Youngener, your fingerprints are on that bag. Mr. Booker’s prints are only on the door handle and seatbelt. So tell me, Mr. Youngener, who else could that pot belong to?”
“I don’t know. I never seen it before.”
“Boy, now is not the time to lie to me. Where did you get it?”
“It’s not mine, I swear it! I don’t…” Harley’s eyes widened as he realized where the drugs may have come from.
“You don’t what?” Deputy Smith asked with narrowed eyes.
“Do drugs,” Harley finished.
Deputy Smith tapped his pen on the table and stared at Harley for a few minutes before he addressed him. Trying to take a different approach, Officer Smith asked in a more friendly tone, “Harley, you hangin’ around those new boys that’s come to town? That Sam Booker, he’s new. Who else you hangin’ with?”
“Yessir. I been hangin’ with Dick Beal, and he introduced me to these fellas. One’s named Carlos and another named Nathan. I don’t see them much, but they come around some. They want Dick to fix up their cars. Sam and Nathan act like they been buddies a while. They just hang back mostly. I don’t think they know what to expect from Dick and Carlos. Truth is, when they’s together, I don’t know what to expect neither.”
“I’ve seen enough,” Sheriff Cahill said from the other side of the glass. “Mr. Prosecutor, you gonna make a deal? You know that boy’s lyin’.” The Sheriff walked out and left the prosecutor in the room with the video tape.
He watched the men in the interrogation room for a few more minutes before he joined them. As he walked into the room, he asked the Deputy to leave. “Mr. Youngener, I’m Matthew Hightower, Prosecutor for the County. I’ve been watching you in there,” he said as he nodded toward the mirror. “I believe you. Unlike the Sheriff and Deputy, I really don’t think those are your drugs. I do believe, however, that you have an idea where they came from.”
“Cut the shit, Matt. What do you want?” Mr. Givens said.
“I want an informant, Berny,” Mr. Hightower said before he turned his icy stare at Harley. “For my recommendation of the lightest sentence since it’s Mr. Youngener’s first offense and all. I don’t care about the nickel-and-dime shit. I want the big score. In return, I’ll ask for no jail time and a thousand-dollar fine for both the drugs and the trespassing. We’re not going let drug pushers in our county.
Do you understand?”
“Yes, we understand. I’ll speak with him. I’m sure we can work something out where he’ll let you know if he sees any drugs. He’s lived in this county over in Cloverville his whole life. He’s never been in any kind of trouble,” Mr. Givens said.
Harley agreed. “Well, as long as we have an agreement, Mr. Youngener. Berny, we can sign the papers prior to court in the morning, and I’ll give them to the judge at the arraignment.”
“Thanks, Matt.”
16
Mitchell woke with his hand cupped around Kayla’s breast. It would’ve been perfect if the alarm wasn’t blaring behind him. He nuzzled her neck. “Baby, we’ve got to get up.”
An angry groan left her body. “I don’t want to.”
“Fine. You can stay here and listen to Evan and Ginger fuck like rabbits all day. Suit yourself, but I’ve got to be at the courthouse.”
“I prefer your wake-up call from the other morning to this,” she said grumpily.
“I know. Me, too.” He kissed her on the shoulder before he got out of bed.
Mitchell got into the shower and turned on both sets of sprays. The dual shower heads would come in handy this morning. Kayla was moving slowly and had a scowl on her face when she walked into the bathroom. “Baby, I’ll try to remember that you don’t like being woken up by an alarm clock, but we’ve got places to be this morning. Now, shift that cute little ass of yours into second gear,” he said, smiling.
“There’s a reason I’m self-employed, you know. Morning is not my friend,” she said as she walked into the shower and tilted her face to the water.
Mitchell finished and left her to shower alone. “I’ll start the coffee while you get dressed. Do you want me to bring you a cup back?”
“Yes, please.”
By the time he’d returned to their room, she was dressed and just slipping on her shoes. That didn’t take as long as he’d planned so he took her into his arms and gave her a gentle kiss. “Good morning, baby.”
Unwelcomed Greeting: A Riverton Crossing Novel Page 11
