Savage Reckoning

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by C. Hoyt Caldwell


  “He’s agreed to fly you in and out of some of these places.”

  “And he’s to be trusted why?”

  “Because he’s got family in the States.”

  “So? So do I.”

  “Yeah, but yours are here legally.”

  Step absorbed the new information and then sighed. “Time to get to it, then.”

  Dani grabbed his arm before he could step away. “You sure you wanna do this? You’re more likely to get yourself killed than get through the names in those files.”

  “More than likely,” Step said, pulling away from her. “But I’m fine with that.” Before exiting the room he stopped at the doorway. Motioning to Kenny, he said, “You know he ain’t gonna let up on getting that dance, right?”

  “You know what? I figure I owe him that much.”

  “Don’t you break my partner’s heart. He’s all I got.” Before walking out the door he said, “I got a favor to ask you. I need you to deliver a message.”

  Chapter 96

  Dani entered her uncle’s home with little Sarah in tow. The deputy’s heart started to beat a little faster once she crossed the Baptist Flats county line. Her thoughts were scattered and uneasy. Her aunt was dead. Otis was left wounded to deal with his loss alone. She knew Ruby and Rafe were at the house, but she also knew they couldn’t offer much support to her uncle. He wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t open up to them like that. He was as reserved as they come in regards to showing emotions, and Dani knew that his soul was crumbling in silence.

  Sheriff Royal jumped from his chair and doubled over in pain, clutching the wrist of his right arm. He adjusted his sling, stood up straight, and forced a smile. “Goddamn. Goddamn. Goddamn.”

  Rafe grinned. “I believe that’s Otis speak for ‘Glad to see you.’ ”

  Dani carefully wrapped him in a hug. “I’m all right. We’re all right.”

  Spotting Sarah, Otis said, “You got her. Double goddamn.”

  Dani motioned for Sarah to come closer.

  Sarah slowly complied. “We thought we’d stay with you for a while,” Dani said.

  “We?”

  “Her momma, she’s…”

  “Momma’s dead,” Sarah said.

  Dani was taken aback because no one had told her what Randle had found in the trailer.

  After a few seconds of awkward silence, Otis kneeled down and looked Sarah in the eyes. “Would you like to stay here?”

  Sarah gave his question some thought and then shrugged sheepishly.

  Otis rubbed his chin and said, “Tell you what. Why don’t you try it out for a day or two to see if it suits you?”

  Sarah nodded.

  Dani patted the little girl’s shoulder and then said, “Where’s Ruby?”

  “The kitchen,” Rafe said. “Cleaning up—” He cut himself off, not allowing himself to say, “Cleaning up your aunt’s blood off the wood floor.”

  Dani turned to the kitchen and then back to her uncle. Hugging him again, she said, “I’m so sorry.”

  He hugged her back with his good arm, unable to respond any other way.

  She released him. “I hate to leave now, but I’ve got a message to deliver.”

  Sensing Dani’s uneasiness, Otis said, “Go. Sarah will be all right with us.”

  She smiled and turned to Sarah. “Would that be okay with you?”

  Sarah looked past her and studied Otis’s face for a few seconds before nodding. “That’d be okay.”

  Dani brushed the little girl’s hair back and then headed for the door.

  Just before she exited, Otis barked out, “Tell Randle and Friar that just because I’m home don’t mean they don’t have to show up for work. Someone’s gotta police this town.”

  “About Randle,” Dani said.

  Otis held up his good hand. “He’s gotta be dealt with for what he done, I know, but he’s family. Family enough, anyway. Call me crazy. Call me stupid. Call me what you want, but I ain’t sending him packing. Bottom line is he showed up to help clean up the mess he made. He stays. You got a problem with that…Well, just learn to live with it. That’s all I’m saying on the matter.”

  Dani didn’t bother to tell her uncle she agreed with him. She just smiled and walked out the door.

  Chapter 97

  Arnold Trendle stood next to his custom golf cart and inspected his clubs one last time to make sure the heads were as shiny as they could be. The state of their polish did not affect his golf game in the least, but it mattered to him nonetheless. He couldn’t let his buddies see him swing a dirty club. No, he just couldn’t have that.

  He was running a soft rag over his nine iron when the sight of a pretty young lady caught his eye. She was smartly dressed in a monogrammed polo and conservative slacks. The visor she wore was one he, too, had bought in the country club’s pro shop. It looked much better on her.

  He’d planned on smiling politely as she passed, but to his surprise, she stopped. “Mr. Trendle?” Dani asked.

  He took a moment to gather himself before saying, “Yes. Do I know you?”

  The deputy shook her head. “No, sir, you don’t. You have a daughter named Amanda?”

  The question disconcerted him. “Why do you ask?”

  “Do you?”

  “Has she been arrested again? Oh Christ, you’ve come to tell me I owe you some money? Is that it? She’s stolen something or damaged someone’s property, and you want me to pay for it…”

  “No, it’s none of those things, Mr. Trendle.” She hesitated.

  “Well, what is it? What has she done now?”

  “You see, another father sent me. A man like you.”

  “A man like me? What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Another man who lost his daughter, Mr. Trendle.”

  His face turned ghost white. “Lost his daughter?”

  “He wanted to make sure you knew. He wanted me to tell you that you looked away for too long, and the water took her down the way.”

  Arnold Trendle watched the pretty young lady who’d caught his eye walk down the cart path. A passing thought of his daughter came to him, and then disappeared as he noticed a small smudge on the head of his nine iron.

  Chapter 98

  They buried Jeannie Royal during a dancing, swirling mist. A wind shook the leaves of the trees in the cemetery like maracas. Pastor Tom stood before the dense crowd of graveside mourners and attempted to lift their spirits with rote rhetoric he’d used at every funeral he’d ever officiated. Most of those in attendance had heard the words spewing from his thin lips so many times that they could mouth them from memory. A few even slyly mocked his womanly gestures, but held back their giggles so as not to incur the wrath of the pastor’s wife.

  The church choir serenaded the crowd with an unfortunate rendition of “I Surrender All.” The notes were so sour the gigglers were unable to hold back any longer. The pastor’s missus shot them a snarl-filled glare and made a mental note of those she would be putting on kitchen duty for the next four spaghetti dinners.

  Dani sat with her uncle a few feet from her aunt’s casket. Otis stared ahead stoically, absorbing the horrible awkwardness of it all. This funeral wasn’t for him. He wasn’t a godly man. He didn’t give a shit about words of comfort or the prayers or any of it. He was doing it for his wife because this was what she would have wanted. Once this day was done, he’d sooner dig up the casket and crawl in it with his Jeannie than spend any time of consequence with ninety percent of the folks at the funeral.

  The graveside service done, Dani helped Otis to his feet and escorted him to Ruby and Rafe’s car. A gathering had been arranged at their diner for mourners to pay their respects. Otis had initially refused to go, but Dani talked him into it. He was still sheriff, after all. If he wanted to be an effective one, he’d need the townsfolk’s support. They’d take offense if he didn’t show up for the gathering. He popped two painkillers to help endure the pain of his mangled shoulder and soothe the angst brought on
by the afternoon ahead of him.

  Dani traversed the uneven terrain of the cemetery to her cruiser on the far side of the property in a pair of her aunt’s high heels. The black dress she wore was also her aunt’s. Everything she had on was just short of being comically too big for her, but she was able to work some magic with a belt for cinching and paper towels for stuffing. The outfit worked aesthetically, but it was far from functional. Her plan was to head to the station and change into her uniform before joining the gloomy potluck at the diner.

  When she stepped around a crooked oak to get to her car, she was greeted by the sight of Stan Rucker and two of his deputies sitting on the hood of her cruiser. She slowed her pace and willed away the uneasiness building up inside of her.

  “Little deputy,” Rucker said with a stiff smile.

  Dani didn’t reply.

  “Sorry to hear about your aunt. You tell Otis I pass along my heartfelts when you see him, you hear?”

  “Something I can help you with, Stan?”

  He snickered. “You can start by calling me Sheriff. I earn my paycheck, little deputy.”

  “And you can start by calling me Deputy Savage. I’ve earned the respect, Stan.”

  He set his jaw before saying, “Woman in Rock Hollow’s gone missing.”

  “Sorry to hear that, but as you’ve pointed out, Rock Hollow ain’t my jurisdiction. Just like Baptist Flats ain’t yours.”

  “I’m just here on a friendly inquiry. Nothing official. Some folks claim you was the last to see this missing woman. Well, they didn’t name you exactly. They just said something about a tiny little woman cop.”

  He laughed along with his two deputies.

  Dani smiled. “That welcome to Baptist Flats I didn’t tender to you is wearing thin, Stan.”

  He removed himself from the hood of her car and ambled up to her with a shit-eating grin. He was a pinch under five foot seven, but he still towered over Dani. “I’m just gonna ask you flat out, little deputy. Do you know the whereabouts of one Bonnie Pike?”

  “I don’t, but maybe you should check the train tracks.”

  The phony smile disappeared from Rucker’s face. “If you think disappearing Bonnie is gonna fix things, you’re about to find out how wrong you are. She’s a Pike, but she ain’t the only one. You tilt your nose up them slopes there, and you can already smell them coming.”

  She attempted to step around him, but he grabbed her arm.

  “I didn’t dismiss you, sweetheart.”

  She peered down at his brawny fingers wrapped around her elbow.

  He let out a deep chortle and demanded the same reaction from his deputies just by giving them a sideways glance. They responded like well-trained dogs.

  Rucker let go of Dani’s arm. “How about you give me a ‘Thank you, Sheriff Rucker,’ for taking the time to drive all this way and fill you in on a missing persons case? You seemed to be upset last time I didn’t call you up ’bout that girl who went missing. What was her name?” He paused for effect. “Farrow, was it? Kate Farrow. Poor little thing.”

  Dani’s blood was boiling but she didn’t show it. Instead she smiled. “You mind if I take off my shoes?”

  Rucker raised an eyebrow. “Your shoes? Why the fuck do I care?”

  She stepped out of her aunt’s shoes and picked them up. “Well, I only ask because I can’t get leverage in the damn things.” She tossed them to one of Rucker’s deputies. The paper towels used for stuffing dislodged and popped free in the process. “Hold on to those for a second, would you?”

  “Leverage?” Rucker asked. “What the shit are you talking about?”

  She took the stance she’d taken a million times before in front of the heavy bag at the station. “You’re a bit taller than I expected.”

  “What the hell you doing?” Rucker laughed.

  “It’s this thing I do. It ain’t that big a deal. Hunch down a bit so you can get a good view.”

  He furrowed his brow. Curious, he leaned forward and bent his knees.

  “No, not like that. Lock your knees and lean more at the waist.”

  He shook his head in disbelief and did as she requested. “You are a weird one, little deputy. I’ll give you that. Now let’s see this thing you do.”

  Without warning, she delivered the best left hook she could conjure up and hit Rucker square in the temple. The force of it swayed him to the right, but his locked knees prevented him crumpling to the ground. Instead, he lurched forward and waved his arms wildly, trying to keep his balance. When he finally did hit the ground, he was so dazed by Dani’s crushing blow that he didn’t have the wherewithal to use his hands to catch himself. His forehead smacked the gravel roadway of the cemetery.

  Rucker’s two deputies stood dumbstruck by their sheriff’s unconscious state. A few seconds passed before the one holding Dani’s shoes stepped forward. “Sheriff?”

  Dani, her hand still balled in a fist, surprised herself. Her adrenaline was elevated so she had to restrain herself from jumping on Rucker’s back and raining blow after blow down on top of him.

  “Sheriff?”

  “He ain’t gonna answer,” Dani said with a slight rattle in her throat. She snapped her fingers. “Shoes.”

  The deputy looked at her, momentarily confused by her request. When it registered to him what she had said, he tossed Dani the shoes.

  She put them on and took the time to control her emotions.

  The two deputies worked mightily to hoist Rucker off the ground.

  “Get him out of my town,” Dani said walking to her cruiser. Behind the wheel, she grasped it tightly before leaning out the open door to say one last thing. “When he comes to, you tell him he’s not to come back to Baptist Flats. He does, and he’ll have to answer to Deputy Savage.”

  Epilogue

  Miguel Vargas did not see the skinny American until it was too late. The man had covered Vargas’s mouth with his bony hand while he shoved a knife upward into Vargas’s belly, sending the blade under his rib cage and into his heart. The Venezuelan banker was dead before the skinny man could clean his blade.

  Officially, his death would become just another unsolved homicide in Parque Los Caobos in Caracas, but unofficially, everyone knew he was killed because of the pretty American girl he murdered some fifteen years earlier.

  This book is dedicated to the one who sacrificed so much so I could write. To the one who carried more than her share of the burden so I could chase a dream, and to the one who picked me up when life ran me over. I can’t begin to thank her enough, but I will do all that I can to return the favor. Thank you, Marianna.

  Acknowledgments

  It’s been said countless times by countless authors, no one writes a book in a vacuum. In my case, with this book, I’ve had a team of dedicated professionals lending their expertise and opinions, starting with my agent, Curtis Russell, and ending with my editor, Julia Maguire, and the entire staff at Alibi who contributed to every element of Savage Reckoning. I am humbled and grateful. I’d also like to acknowledge the late Randy Thornhorn for providing inspiration by example. Randy was a truly gifted Southern storyteller who wrote instant classics. His talents will be missed.

  BY C. HOYT CALDWELL

  Bad Way Out

  Savage Reckoning

  PHOTO: MIA RIDLEY

  C. HOYT CALDWELL is the author of Bad Way Out. Simultaneously proud of and puzzled by his Southern roots, he isn’t smart enough to be subtle so his work tends to be tasteless and gritty. He’s not out to offend anyone, but he’s not out to win anyone over, either. His stories are full of sex, violence, humor, and heart.

  Facebook.com/​officialCHoytCaldwell

  If you enjoyed Savage Reckoning by C. Hoyt Caldwell, read on for a sneak peek at

  Savage Rising

  A Backwoods Justice Novel

  Available Spring 2017

  Chapter 1

  The caved-in part of Parnell Carson’s skull was in the shape of a horse’s hoof. He was about as d
ead as you’d expect a man would be with that kind of defect in his head. Deputy Dani Savage stood at the back of the stall and settled into the summer-baked odor of blood, sweat, and horse shit. Her slight frame barely made a depression in the thick layer of hay that covered the ground. If not for the heft of her boots, there’d be no evidence at all she had even been there once she concluded her investigation and vacated the premises.

  It wasn’t often she regretted being the first on the scene. She was the most ambitious lawman—female or otherwise—in the state of Tennessee, and most likely the entire Southeast. But on this occasion, being first on the scene gave her pause to reflect on her choice of career. More unsettling than the condition of Carson’s skull was that his pants were around his ankles, and the rather unimpressive erection he’d died with was still reaching for the rafters.

  Every great mystery needs an Alibi

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  randomhousebooks.com

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