Savage Reckoning

by C. Hoyt Caldwell

  “Me? You should, shouldn’t you? I mean, she’s your gal.”

  Step shook his head. “She’s just a whore, Kenny. She ain’t nobody’s gal.”

  Kenny uncharacteristically thought before he spoke and decided there was nothing to say.

  Step stood and headed for the door. “The keys to her car are in the kitchen. Get her to the clinic and leave her. Let the doc sort out what to do with her.” He exited the room.

  Kenny hesitated and then scooped up the lost and broken girl who was nobody’s gal.

  Chapter 41

  Trace Connor was enormous. He was tall enough to dunk a basketball flat-footed, and broad enough to have to maneuver his way through a normal-sized doorway. Sitting in the small interrogation room with him, Dani felt claustrophobic. She stared at his thick brow ridge and watched it flex and relax as the Goliath observed her uncle’s every move.

  The potbellied sheriff shifted through sheets of paper. Every once in a while he’d let out an exasperated “huh” and “phhht” in an effort to unsettle the disgruntled truck driver.

  “This is bullshit.” Connor’s voice was as deep as he was big. It was as if the good Lord packed every bit of imposing into one enormous package.

  Otis sat back in his metal chair and rhythmically tapped the tabletop as he spoke. “Indeed it is, Mr. Connor. I ain’t never seen this many violations of our state’s long haul regulations.”

  “I ain’t violated nothing.”

  Otis licked his fingers and laid out every citation on the table. “These here say different.”

  Connor shifted his eyes down and scanned the row of tickets. “You pull a man in for hauling violations?”

  “No, not normally, but yours was so plentiful that I just had to have a talk with the fella that holds such low regard for the laws of his trade.”

  “I ain’t saying these are justified, but if they are, it ain’t nothing but oversights. I got respect for the law.”

  “You do?” Otis asked with a chuckle. “Were you paying your respects when you killed that fella?”

  Connor twisted his big frame in his nearly overmatched chair. “Law had nothing to do with that. One error followed another on that day. ’Sides, I done my time for that.”

  “Eighteen months.”

  “I was let go according to the court workings.”

  “I know, I went through your file.”

  “You got a curious interest in my doings.”

  “You’ve got curious doings to be curious about.”

  Connor leaned forward and placed his massive forearms on the table. “I got a call coming my way?”

  “Who you gonna call?”

  “Ain’t none of your business. My call’s my call.”

  Otis nodded. “It is that. You can call who you want, but Ima tell you right off that these violations are gonna go away.”

  Connor lifted an eyebrow. “How’s that?”

  “Because you’re gonna answer my question.”

  “What question?”

  “I’ll get to that in a minute, but you need to know how important this question is. You answer it straight up without any hemming and hawing, you walk out the door, and I’ll even give you some money out of petty cash for missing your haul today.

  “On the other hand, you give me trouble and make me work for an answer, Ima have to arrest you.”

  “Arrest me? For traffic tickets?”

  “No, sir, not for traffic tickets.” Otis turned and motioned to Dani that she was up. She reached in her pocket, pulled out a baggy full of pills, and tossed it on the table.

  “Illegal contraband is a serious offense, Mr. Connor. You’ll serve good time for it and lose your long haul license.”

  Connor snarled. “That ain’t mine—”

  Otis held up a hand to cut him off. “Save it for your phone call if it should come to that.”

  “I answer this question”—he shifted his gaze from Otis to Dani and then back to Otis—“you’ll shit can those tickets and pills and let me walk, right?”

  “Right.”

  Connor snickered. “Must be some question. I don’t know shit about shit, but go ahead, ask your question.”

  Otis leaned forward and clasped his hands together on top of the table. With a slight grin, he said, “Where is your daughter, Mr. Connor?”

  “My daughter?” The giant truck driver stared at the sheriff, wondering if he’d heard him right. “Is that what you want to know? Where’s my daughter?”

  “Is English your second language, son? Did I not phrase the question in such a way to penetrate that thick skull of yours?”

  Connor snarled. “It’s just that there’s a sensitive question. I’m of the understanding that I’m not supposed to talk on that matter.”

  Otis and Dani shared a glance.

  “I’m giving you clearance,” the sheriff said. “Talk on it all you want.”

  Connor anxiously pondered thought after thought as they tumbled through his mind. “Boss is the only one I know who can give me such clearance.”

  Otis studied the giant’s expression. “He’s a scary individual, Boss? Scary enough to tame a big man like you?”

  “Let’s just say he’s got resources I can’t do nothing about.”

  “Resources? Like what?”

  Connor tugged on his earlobe with a shaky hand and then crossed his arms over his barrel chest. “Like he ain’t got no off switch.”

  “Off switch?”

  The big truck driver let out a deep groan. “You’ve gone way beyond your one question.”

  “Because you ain’t answered it. You’re doing an awful lot of that hemming and hawing I warned you about. I’ve allowed you to go off track because I find what you’re saying interesting. If you want to stop being interesting, I’ll let you make your one phone call, and put you in lockup.”

  Connor hesitated and then said, “There ain’t no bad that Boss won’t do, not if he can make money off it.”

  Dani chimed in. “I don’t understand. Ain’t you an independent driver?”

  “I am. What of it?”

  “How come you got a boss?”

  Connor let a grin spread across his face. “Y’all really don’t know who Boss is?”

  “Enlighten us,” Otis said.

  The mammoth man let out a loud guttural laugh. “He ain’t my boss. Boss is his name, and if you knew him, I most likely wouldn’t be here. You damn sure wouldn’t have asked me the question you just asked me.”

  Otis laughed back. “I just might have to have this Boss in here, and I’ll be sure to bring up your name. Let him know that you was the one that turned us onto him. You said he might know where your daughter is.”

  Connor shook his head. “I didn’t say nothing like that.”

  “Well, you said as much.”

  “You tell him that, and they’ll be kicking dirt over both of us by week’s end.”

  Dani slammed her hand down on the table. “What the hell is the matter with you?” The volume of her voice startled both men. “Your daughter is missing! Your little girl! Don’t you care nothing for her?”

  Otis grabbed her forearm and squeezed.

  Dani ripped her arm free from her uncle’s grasp. “I ain’t got the stomach to listen to this coward no more.”

  “Coward?” Connor asked, standing. “I ain’t no coward.”

  “I ain’t come across a bigger coward in my life,” Dani said, staring him down.

  “Now hold on,” Otis said. “Sit down, the both of you.”

  “Sometimes things just lead down a road,” Connor said, ignoring Otis. “A man finds himself in a bad way, and he makes deals to try to make things better. Only thing is, things get worse and that deal goes sour. You weigh things out and choose the least of the bad.”

  Dani absorbed his statement. “What are you saying?”

  Connor didn’t reply.

  “You traded out your daughter on a bad deal?”

  “I can’t talk on this.” He
backed away from the table and stared down at the ground. “I just can’t. Call me up on whatever charges you want, I don’t care.”

  “That’s big talk,” Otis said. “Your previous conviction will play a factor in the time ahead of you. I can write this up so you’ll do three to five in maximum security.”

  “Like I said: I don’t care.”

  “That’s about the only thing you’ve said that makes sense,” Dani said, heading for the door. “You don’t care, not for your daughter anyway.”

  “It’s a sad thing,” Connor called after her. “You ain’t got no idea what it’s like for a man when he loses a daughter.”

  She stood in the open doorway and said, “No I don’t, but I know what it’s like to be the daughter of a worthless ass like you.”

  The door closed. She turned and stood staring through the cold gray surface, seeing countless daughters no one beyond their mothers cared about.

  Chapter 42

  The shelves of Millman’s grocery store were stuffed with packages of processed foods that were crammed with saturated fats and refined sugars. The patrons who lumbered up and down the aisles of the supermarket did so because the prices were cheap, and the walk-in beer cooler was as big as a double-wide. The fluorescent illumination washed out the already pale faces of the shoppers and seemed to create a thick, bright soup of light that slowed them down to a snail’s pace.

  Step entered the store looking for her. He’d tried to chase down Gunner for three hours, but the man was nowhere to be found. If any of Step’s regular sources knew where he was, they weren’t talking, and nothing the skinny closeout king could do was enough to persuade them to dig deeper for anything that approached useful information.

  He gave up and decided to find out what Laura Farrow had to do with the current shitty turn his life had taken. She was pulling out of her driveway when he arrived at her house, so he followed her to Millman’s with the intention of waiting for her to complete her shopping and following her back home, where he could confront her in private. However, impatience got the better of him after five minutes in the parking lot. He heard the clock ticking in his head and rushed into the store to find the mother of a missing girl who might be able to shed light on what the hell was going on.

  She was almost blindly grabbing items off the shelves and tossing them into her cart when he approached. “Mrs. Farrow?”

  The woman with the gray complexion turned to him.

  “Do you know who I am?” He attempted to ask the question in as soft a tone as he could manage. It wasn’t his strong suit.

  She shook her head.

  “My name is Step Crawford. I know your husband, Bubba.”

  “Bubba’s dead,” she said.

  “Oh.”

  She attempted to maneuver around him, but he blocked her path. “I lost my daughter, Mrs. Farrow.” The words came out rushed and jumbled.

  Her cheeks flushed.

  He hesitated. “I know you lost yours, too.”

  “Did the sheriff send you?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “You can tell him I ain’t afraid of him no more.”

  “The sheriff didn’t send me. I don’t exactly play well with the law.”

  She scanned Step from head to toe.

  “I need to ask you a question, Mrs. Farrow—”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “Don’t call me Mrs. Farrow. I don’t want no reminders of Bubba. I only keep his last name because of Kate. I’d drop it otherwise.”

  “Kate’s your daughter?”

  She nodded.

  “What should I call you then?”

  “Don’t call me nothing.” She attempted to move around him again, but he grabbed the cart.

  “You should know civilized ain’t natural to me. I’m trying my best to do this thing without falling back on my normal demeanor.”

  She huffed. “Ask your question so we can be done with this.”

  He attempted to look friendly and relaxed. “Have you borrowed any money?”

  “Money?”

  “From the wrong sorts?”

  She stared at Step without responding.

  “I know it ain’t a normal question to get from a stranger, but I got my reasons for asking.”

  “I ain’t never borrowed a dime in my life from anyone, Mr. Crawford.”

  “But Bubba…did he borrow money?”

  “Bubba was a no-good piss-bucket of a man. He borrowed more money than he ever earned in his life. I’m still trying to untwist the mess he left behind.”

  Step stood silently as he processed her statement.

  “Can I go now?”

  The sound of her voice jolted him. “That woman, the lady cop—why was she at your house?”

  Laura’s mouth dropped open. After a few unsettling thoughts passed through her head, she asked, “How’d you know about that?”

  Step ran through a dozen lies in his mind before saying, “I saw her at your house because I was watching your house.”

  Laura backed away from her cart.

  “Mrs. Farrow…Laura…I don’t know exactly why I’m here…something’s going on. I ain’t got a clue what that something is, but I aim to find out. I’m trying like hell to put all the pieces together, and I keep running into the same places, missing girls, and that lady cop who was at your house.”

  “What other missing girls did you come across?” Laura asked with a narrow-eyed focus.

  “Sarah Campbell. She’s been missing a couple of day—” Step stopped abruptly when he saw a cop standing at the end of the aisle. He recognized him as one of the deputies at Laura’s house the day before. Step quickly turned to the shelves and grabbed the first item he saw, a package of a dozen combs.

  Laura, confused by his abrupt silence, grabbed his arm. “Go on. What about the girl?”

  “This gentleman bothering you, Mrs. Farrow?”

  She turned.

  “You bothering the lady, mister?”

  Step put on a fake smile. “No, sir. Just running through my honey-do list for the day. You know how it is. I’m all thumbs when it comes to this grocery shopping. I was just asking this nice lady her opinion on combs and hair products.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Laura said, nodding. “He was just asking my opinion, is all.” She turned and grabbed an alternate pack of combs. “Here, these are more expensive, but they’re worth it.”

  Step held up the pack and showed it to the deputy. “See? A woman always knows.” He started to leave, but Laura stopped him with a gentle touch on his forearm.

  “And you be sure to tell that lady friend we talked about everything you just told me. She’ll be real happy to hear it.” She looked at the deputy and smiled. “A woman always knows.”

  Step smiled at Laura warmly to let her know he understood, and then headed down the aisle toward the deputy carrying a pack of combs he had no interest in buying.

  Chapter 43

  Trace Connor passed Dani’s desk on his way through the station. Otis had released him just a few seconds earlier. The tickets and pills were bogus, and they couldn’t even pretend to make them stick under any real scrutiny, so the behemoth was allowed to walk.

  He eyeballed Dani as he maneuvered his way to the exit. She had called him a coward, and he was having trouble letting it go. If she were a man, cop or no, he would have beat her down to a puddle.

  Randle passed the truck driver on his way into the station. He snickered to himself as he stepped inside. Shaking his head, he said, “Goddamn, we grow a bean stalk out back?”

  Otis stood just outside the interrogation room. “Where the hell you been?”

  “Where’ve I been? I’ve been doing cop things, Otis. Where the hell you think I been?”

  “What sort of cop things?”

  “Riding around, making our presence known, that sort of shit.”

  Otis put his hands on his hips and eyed the deputy suspiciously. “That the ex
tent of your law-keeping know-how?”

  “Hell, Otis, you know most of our work is just showing up.”

  The sheriff shook his head and headed for his office. “You’re about the most useless lawman I’ve ever come across, Terry. Useless!”

  Randle watched as Otis entered his office and slammed the door. “What in the hell has his nut sack pinched?”

  Dani didn’t bother answering; she was deep in thought about a man named Boss.

  Randle sat at his desk and put his feet up. “Didn’t turn up nothing on your boys?”

  Dani barely heard him. “My boys?”

  “Your boys from the cigarette store.”

  She sat up straight. “My boys.” She’d forgotten about Step Crawford and Kenny Fable. “What time is it?”

  Randle looked at his watch. “Near five.”

  “Shit.” She stood and started gathering up her belongings from her desk.

  Randle laughed. “What the hell? You got a hot date or something?”

  “Something,” she said.

  “What kind of something?”

  She hesitated. “Something to do with those boys.”

  He leaned forward. “Wha’cha getting yourself into?”

  “Nothing but a meet-up.”

  “With those two slopers?”

  She nodded. “They called me.”

  He watched her walk past his desk. “And you think it’s wise to just up and meet with them because they called you?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? They’re persons of interest in a murder investigation, ain’t they?”

  He stood. “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t. Not alone.”

  She reached the door. “I ain’t going alone.”

  “You ain’t?”

  “Nope. You’re coming with me.”

  He dropped his shoulders and sighed. “Tonight?”

  “Tonight. Go home and change. I’ll text you the details.” She stepped out the door and then stuck her head back inside. “Wear you some dancing shoes.”

  Chapter 44

  Kenny focused on the sound of the gravel grinding together beneath his feet as he walked. The parking lot for Jerry Tate’s Boots ’n’ Boogey Dance Club was filled with a variety of American-made vehicles from the ’80s all the way up to 1992. Most of them were trucks held together by exposed patches of Bondo, and every bed was filled with empty beer cans, broken fishing gear, and the remains of fast food paper bags.