Protective Instincts

by Mary Marvella

  "Yeah, I know."

  "Did she mention whether she has her guns?"

  "No, but you know she does. At least she knows how to shoot as well as either of us." Sam shrugged when Briggs and his partner turned in the front seats to look at him. "I don't know about Brit, though. Damn it!"

  The unmarked police car pulled in behind the Three Creek Baptist Church and met a Peach County Sheriff's car. At least they knew where Douglas was, for now. Sam champed at the bit while the lawmen spread out a large paper and pointed to spots on it. Detective Briggs, not a small man himself, was nearly dwarfed by the uniformed county cops. These men must have grown up pulling the plows, instead of driving tractors.

  When the deputy turned away from the car and spat, Sam was sure he was right.

  By the time the lawmen separated to their own cars, Sam was anxious as an expectant father. Actually, he wouldn't mind being an expectant father ….

  * * * *

  Julie felt like she had been walking for hours. Her watch read ten fifty-five. She'd passed three driveways but she had no idea how far the houses were from the road. She saw no lights from the road. Would she lose time going down driveways that might be dead ends? She'd take her chances and hope she could see a house from the road.

  She gauged her distance at nearly four miles. She remembered at least three more drives and large fields, and an orchard, between her and the highway.

  She'd have to stop unless she could make better time. Lights coming from behind forced her off the road again, behind a pair of fragrant bushes. What was at that end of the road? The racket of the engine was nearly drowned out by the rattling of the old truck. A flatbed truck. An empty flatbed truck lumbered past. The windows were down and the driver bellowed a country tune with the radio. Long gray hair flew behind her.

  Julie was surprised when her feet moved her toward the back of the truck and some inner force pushed her onto the bed. The truck didn't slow. The driver continued to bellow the country tune. Julie flattened herself against hard boards and thanked God for the help. She prayed the odd-looking driver wouldn't notice her stowaway.

  * * * *

  Teacher drives that Mustang like a little old lady. Doesn't she know how to appreciate a fine machine? Wonder if she'd drive differently if she realized this could be her last night to enjoy it? Yep, turn right. How long is she gonna crawl along?

  The sooner he met his target at the Waffle House, the sooner he could take her out in the woods and kill her. He watched the classic car ease to a traffic light.

  "Damned light's green, keep moving. Ah, shit, yellow. What the Hell?" he muttered. His quarry's exhaust belched out as it zoomed through a red light. Slamming on brakes, Douglas cursed. She couldn't have done that on purpose.

  "What the Hell? She can't know I'm following her." Sweat dampened his shirt. He was muttering again, but who would know? "Can't afford to get stopped by cops. Might be at least one intelligent cop who'd recognize me. Just what I need."

  An older, green truck turned in front of his and behind the Mustang that had left him standing. A white rattletrap followed. By the time the light turned green, three vehicles separated Douglas from the teacher's car.

  He swiped at the sweat now dampening his upper lip and forehead. Persuading the teacher to follow me to the deserted shack shouldn't take much effort. She and Julie were friends. Too bad they aren't more alike. Doesn't matter. Killing the teacher's a job. Even this killer has honor. Take a job, do the job. That's been my motto and I'll follow through.

  The white rattletrap finally turned. Two cars separated him from the Mustang and his prey. Once he offed the teacher, he could take his lady and leave this country and this job. He'd need to get Julie away before she could hear about her friend's death. He'd have to convince her someone else had done the hit. She'd probably never forgive him for killing her friend.

  Douglas almost cheered when the green truck turned off. Ten minutes and they'd be at the meeting place. "Well, bitch, not much longer." The old excitement seeped into his bones. His breathing quickened. His palms were damp. He'd do this last job. He'd collect the final installment and make a fast getaway. If he couldn't get to them, he'd settle for what he had.

  * * * *

  The bed of the old truck rattled, jarring Julie in a monotonous, almost rocking motion. Lulled to an exhausted trace-like state, she almost missed the right turn onto the highway. Wind chilled her through the sweater and jacket.

  Oh, great. What's up ahead? Next stop I get out and try to call Brit. Hope there's a pay phone. Cell battery's gone. How much farther?

  The truck slowed. Where? No lights to indicate civilization. She glanced at her watch. Only eleven o'clock. She hadn't dozed as long as she thought she had. A right turn had her scrambling to hide under something. There was nowhere to hide. Preparing to roll off the truck bed, she stopped in her efforts.

  "What you doin' on my truck, girl?" A raspy voice came from the cab. The door opened. The wild haired woman slid from the seat to the ground. "Kinda late at night for a female to be walking on a deserted road by herself."

  Julie could only stare at the driver. A woman? Her long, wild, white hair and her hands-on-her-hips stance were the only things about her that gave her gender away. Baggy overalls, work boots, and a battered hat could have belonged to an old man.

  "You don't need to be scared of me." She must have seen more than Julie could. Actually, she looked like the kind of person who might even smell fear. She was close enough now for Julie to see her faded blue eyes, bracketed by a network of lines and dirt. "Somebody after you, child?"

  Julie tried to answer but couldn't get past the fear in her throat. What if this strange looking person knew Douglas? What if she was as bad as Douglas? She definitely looked rough. Julie could see her thin lips moving, but the sounds coming from them seemed like gibberish. Her head weighed a ton. Her limbs froze. The dark night went darker.

  * * * *

  Sam waited in the patrol car. The radio squawked messages meant for cops all over Florence and the surrounding area, but none addressed his concerns. The detective with Sam made sure he stayed put, while he spoke to the person on the other end of the radio. Sam listened, but only with effort.

  Where are Esther and Brit? Haven't heard from them in a while. Can't believe Brit hung up on me. Doesn't she understand I'm trying to keep her out of danger?

  How can the cops and I concentrate on saving Julie and capturing Drake if Brit's around? Add Esther to the mix and things will be even more complicated. Now I gotta worry about the woman I love and my sister.

  Where the Hell are Drake and Drew? Drew hasn't been in touch since he announced his approach to the meeting place, right behind the decoy Mustang and its FBI driver. They should be in the Waffle House parking lot by now.

  Why was it taking so long for the Peach County cops to bring Julie out? Lights moved toward Sam and the patrol car. Three men swept their lights back and forth. Men, only. Three men had walked down the drive toward the Drake house and three men were coming back. Where was Julie? Surely they would have brought her out if they'd found her. She wasn't walking toward him or being carried.

  * * * *

  Esther pulled her Bug into the graveled parking area of the Three Creek Baptist Church. A lone light lit the front of the church. No light lit the back. "Now what?"

  "We should pull out of the light as far as possible. We'll still see any cop cars coming this way. At least we'll know Julie's safe."

  Esther's cell rang only a squawk's worth before she answered it. "What do you mean Julie isn't there?"

  "What?" Brit stared at Esther.

  "What could have happened to her? Could Drake have an accomplice who moved her?"

  "Esther, what's happening? What's he saying?"

  Esther made a shushing motion. "Well, you're with the cops. What do they think happened to her? Could they have missed any places in the dark? Maybe she's tied up and hidden." She stopped when Brit gasped. "Sorry."

&
nbsp; Esther handed the phone to Brit.

  "Sam?" She listened, nodding her head. "You found no signs of injury? They checked outbuildings and such? Okay. Me, too. Sam, we're not going home but we'll stay out of the way. Sam!"

  "He wants to speak to you, again." She handed the phone back to Esther.

  "Sam, she'd have come on her own. There was no way she'd have sat around and waited any more than I would have! At least I can keep her out of trouble. Oh, yeah? Heard from Drew and the decoy? Right!"

  * * * *

  Douglas watched the Mustang. The teacher had parked in a well-lit area. A truck had pulled in soon after he had. No one got out. Odd. Something didn't feel right about the situation.

  He watched a hand adjust the rearview mirror of the Mustang. It was time to go to the car and tell the teacher to get in his truck and go with him to see her friend.

  He wished someone would get out of the other truck. He didn't need anyone to witness his contact with the teacher. Someone might notice and remember. Maybe it would look like lovers meeting. He opened the door of his truck and sauntered toward the Mustang.

  He knocked on the closed window of the driver's side. The woman seemed to shrink away from the window.

  "Roll it down," he spoke loudly to get her to hear him. How did she think she would learn where her friend, was if she wouldn't talk to him. Her hair hung on the sides of her face. The handkerchief she held to her face, like she was crying, hid most of her features.

  "Open the window and I'll tell you where your friend is. Come on." He wanted to call her the troublesome bitch she was. The window opened a little. "I'll take you to her."

  Her voice sounded hoarse, like she'd been crying. He needed to get her in his truck so she couldn't get away.

  "I can't get out," she said.

  "Why the Hell not?" He needed to calm down so she wouldn't spook. He flexed his fingers to relax. He pasted on a smile.

  "Julie's waiting for you. I told her you were coming." He laughed. "If you don't come with me, I won't untie her before I teach her how to beg. I've been nice, so far. No blood spilled, no bones broken − yet."

  The woman cried into her handkerchief. The bitch was getting on his nerves. He didn't have time for her hysterics.

  "Okay, never mind. I'll just go back to her." Maybe she'd follow him. He walked to his truck. He hesitated before opening the door and getting in. He'd really prefer to have her with him. Short of causing a scene, he couldn't force her to get out of her car here. This should have been easier. She insisted on ruining his plans, again. This would be the last time she'd have the chance to mess him up.

  When he pulled out of the parking lot onto the road, the Mustang followed him. When I get her away from everyone, she's gonna pay for all the trouble she's caused.

  She followed at a safe distance. There were few vehicles on the road. The deserted shack he'd spotted earlier wasn't far. Douglas was nearly beside himself with anticipation when he approached the four-way stop. An occasional car or truck passed or turned onto the road. He'd prefer not to have anyone see his truck and the Mustang turn onto the same road. Of course, by the time anyone could do anything with the information he'd be gone.

  At the four-way stop, he glanced behind at the Mustang when she stopped. Behind her, a black truck followed. It was too dark to be sure but the damned truck looked too familiar.

  He passed the road where he'd planned to turn. Eight miles later, he turned on the road leading to highway 78, toward Peach County and his house. If that damned truck kept with them he'd know he'd been double-crossed. He'd told the bitch not to tell the police. Now what the Hell to do?

  * * * *

  Julie ached all over. Just turning onto her side hurt. A cool, damp cloth washed her brow. Where was she? Was Douglas washing her face? She trembled. A groan escaped her lips.

  "All right, sugar. It's all right. Nobody's gonna hurt you. Me and Ned's gonna take good care of you."

  Julie opened her eyes slowly. The face near her own was beautiful with age. Blue eyes crinkled under gray brows. Lines bracketed the old woman's smiling mouth. Soothed by the crooning of the hoarse voice, Julie closed her eyes for another minute to gather her thoughts.

  "Wh-Where am I?"

  A new, deeper voice answered. "Why, child, you're with Wilma and me, in our house. She found you on her truck. You'd done passed out."

  The woman spoke softly. "You're all scratched up, like you been runnin' from somethin'. Who's that there Douglas fella? You kept callin' out his name like you was scart of him."

  The woman, Wilma, Julie figured, dipped the cloth in a water basin and washed her arm. It stung only a few seconds.

  "I put my special healin' powder in the water. Make it up myself, you know. It'll cleanse your wounds and keep you from gettin' infection."

  "So, girl, you gonna tell us who's got you so scart, so we can help?" Ned looked like a hillbilly Santa, with his plaid shirt tucked into overalls. His white beard hid most of the bib. The house was so quiet Julie could hear a clock ticking.

  Wilma held Julie's head up. The rim of a glass was cool against her lips. "Drink a couple of swallows. It's water from our spring out back. I'll get you something more if you drink this first. If you're hungry, we can talk while you eat a bite."

  "Thanks." Julie was surprised when she drank a swallow, then another. "Good water."

  Ned and Wilma grinned proudly. "Best water in the state. Man wanted us to bottle it and sell it. We don't sell water! The good Lord give it to us to share. It'd be like sellin' air. "

  "Wilma wanted to call the sheriff, but I thought you might be runnin' from the law. You done somethin' wrong?"

  "No!" Julie answered too quickly. She tried to raise herself on her elbow but her head swam. "Please, I need to call my friend and let her know I'm okay. My cell phone ran out of battery power. Do you have a charger?"

  Ned patted her hand. "I got chargers for big batteries and a generator, but we got no cell phone. Our son says we oughta have one for emergencies. Maybe we'll get one, one of these days. You can use our phone."

  "I'll pay for the call. I think it's long distance."

  "Stay put and I'll bring the phone to you." Wilma placed a heavy looking rotary phone on the bed beside Julie. She dialed Brit's mobile.

  "Brit, I got away from Douglas and I'm okay," she blurted. "Yes. Go someplace safe and stay there 'til they get the bastard." She paused. Wilma and Ned stared at her.

  "What did you say?" Julie yelled into the phone. "You're where? Are you crazy? What if he finds you there?"

  She heard Ned comment to Wilma. "Think her friend's hard of hearin'? She don't haf to yell." She didn't hear Wilma's response.

  "You're too close to his house. I don't care where you're supposed to meet him."

  She paused while Brit spoke. Her heart beat double time. "But when Douglas finds out you've tricked him, he'll come looking for you. Hell, he won't give up. He thinks he's in love with me." It was too bizarre.

  "Don't you think he'll be spooked when he finds a small army waiting for him? Okay, let everyone know I'm fine. I'll call the law, if there's anyone available."

  Her head pounded. "For heaven's sake be careful! The man's a loony tune and he wants you dead."

  Wilma reached for the receiver. "I found your friend on my truck. She's awful scratched up and tired but me and Ned's takin' care of her. We're not far from where she hitched a ride." Julie hadn't realized she been spotted when she hopped on the truck. Wilma had known she was there all along and she hadn't even slowed down.

  "Sounds like you shouldn't be near here. You're hidin' behind the church? Honey, that's a favorite place for the 'shiners to meet their buyers. You don't want to hang around. Let me give you our phone number so you can check on your friend. Then you get away from the church. Got a pencil and paper?"

  Julie could imagine Wilma wetting the lead on a pencil. "Okay. Our number's 799-3232. Oh, yeah, 478. Got it?" Julie watched Wilma mouth the numbers to Brit.

&nbs
p; "She's safe as in her own mama's arms. Sheriff knows us, honey. We're Ned and Wilma."

  Julie took the phone back in time to hear another phone ring. She heard Esther's voice, so she figured she'd cut her part short. "Brit, girl, I gotta rest a few minutes and we need to conserve your phone's battery power. And you probably want to hear what Esther's saying, anyway."

  All Hell's about to break loose.

  * * * *

  Sam rubbed the back of his neck. Relief that Julie was safe for the moment was overshadowed by the dangers Drake still posed. If he returned home, he'd be caught by the sheriff's men or FBI man. Men were scattered strategically around the house and property. Anyone turning into his drive would be stopped. Drew's description of the truck Drake was driving should make the job easier. He must be wandering around an awful lot. Either he was leading the Mustang on a merry chase or he didn't know where he was going. Surely, he hadn't made the decoy or Drew. It sounded like he was moving right into their trap. Too easy.

  * * * *

  "Brit, think we should change locations? If Julie's free, do we need to wait here to see Drake caught? That Wilma person might have a point about this place. Wouldn't it be a kick in the head if we were caught here by moonshiners or drug dealers, instead of Drake, especially with the local law so nearby?

  A siren screamed. Lights flashed a streak past the church. "You don't suppose?" Brit paused. "Naw, he couldn't be close enough and they wouldn't announce themselves."

  Esther grinned. "It would be funny if he was stopped by a state patrolman for speeding. Boy would he be in deep shit. There is an APB on him, after all."

  * * * *

  The black truck kept showing up. Douglas had made several turns but couldn't lose him. Someone was following him and the Mustang. He'd make a fast turn and hope the Mustang followed. He wasn't far from the Three Creek Baptist Church. He'd never killed anyone behind a church before.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sam couldn't believe he and the cops couldn't find Julie. When his cell rang, he spotted his brother's number and answered it. "Sam, Drake seems to be heading your way in an old model, tan, Chevy van, very muddy. License plates too muddy to ID. We followed him from the Waffle House parking lot."