Three Sides of the Tracks

by Mike Addington

  Something was wrong. Very wrong. Her desire to find Danny overcame her fear and she stepped inside. “Bernard,” she called as she made her way through the kitchen toward the living room.

  A step into the room, her eyes followed the deep red splash of blood across the floor to the patch of flesh hanging from Bernard’s head. Terror choked the breath from her lungs as she fled toward the back door, crashed into the kitchen table, and attempted to rise with suddenly disobedient legs. An image of Danny in another part of the house interrupted her struggle. She used her hands for balance and scampered up the hall for a quick glance into the bedrooms before fleeing back home.

  “Martin, Martin, Danny’s gone and the next door neighbor is dead,” she screamed into the phone.

  “Hang up and call 911, Belinda. I’m on my way.”

  “I . . . I.”

  “Right now, Belinda. Call 911. I’ll be there in two minutes,” Martin said and hung up.

  Belinda still had the phone to her ear answering the 911 operator’s questions when Martin strode through the door and took her in his arms. He squeezed her close then took the phone, gave the address, and hung up. “Dumbasses.”

  “So Danny’s gone? He didn’t say anything, leave a note or—”

  “No, nothing, but I think he was trying to tell me last night he planned to try and rescue Caroline. In a rambling sort of way. I didn’t catch on until I woke up and he was gone. Then I looked out and saw the car still here, so I thought Bernard next door might know something. He and Danny are pretty close. I knocked on his door and called his name several times, and, since his van’s still in the garage, I decided to go inside. Oh, Martin, he’s dead. Who would want to kill Bernard? He’s not able to hurt anybody. Hardly leaves his wheelchair.”

  “I expect a lot is going on that makes no sense now, but we’ll find Danny and get it straightened out. Sit down. I think you’re in shock.”

  The sound of sirens grew closer.

  “I’d better go outside and tell them to go next door. They might come busting in here, the idiots.”

  Martin stepped on the porch to see what looked like every police car in Griffin approaching from all directions. Policemen swarmed past him and into the house from the front and back, yelling at Belinda to put her hands up. Belinda laid her head against the back of the couch as Martin stormed back inside cursing. Finally, a sergeant restored order.

  “There’s a dead man next door,” Martin told him. “We need a paramedic here to look after this lady.”

  The sergeant knelt beside Belinda. “Are you hurt, ma’am?”

  “She’s in shock. Her son’s missing and she found the neighbor’s body next door. She’s the one who called 911,” Martin said.

  The sergeant nodded and stood up. “Y’all get outta here. Set up a crime scene around the house next door, and don’t let anyone inside until the detectives arrive.”

  Martin sat next to Belinda and wrapped an arm around her. She moved her head to his shoulder.

  “I’m sure you want to find your son, ma’am, so I need to ask you a few questions,” the sergeant said.

  “You feel like talking?” Martin asked.

  Belinda sat up. “I looked in his room around nine and he was gone. I know he left before seven because that’s when I got up.”

  “Y’all didn’t have a fuss or—”

  “No, of course not. He was worried about his friend, one of the kidnapped girls. He seemed to think he could find her—”

  “What would make him think that, ma’am?”

  Before Belinda could explain, a young woman with a stethoscope around her neck arrived.

  The sergeant stepped aside. “I’m going next door while she works on your friend,” he said to Martin. “Maybe you’d have better luck getting information to help us locate her son. Anyway, I’ll be back shortly.”

  The paramedic wrapped the pressure cuff around Belinda’s arm and began pumping.

  A half minute later, she unwrapped it. “Your vital signs are good. I can give you a—”

  Her radio blared. “Cassandra, it’s a 10-33. I repeat 10-33. 10-78. 10-78. Copy?”

  “Copy, on my way.” She stuffed the blood pressure cuff into her bag on her way to the door.

  Martin tried to catch up. “Whoa. Wait a minute. You haven’t finished—”

  But she was gone, racing across the yard to Bernard’s house.

  He sat back down and clasped Belinda’s hand. “They’ll find Danny. I’m sure he’s fine. Just impulsive.”

  “I hope you’re right. But this is so unlike him. To worry me like this.”

  Loud angry voices approached, followed by fierce knocking on the front door. Martin opened it, and Bart Phillips stood on the porch arguing with the FBI and GBI agents. Two local detectives, the police chief, and the police sergeant were arrayed around them.

  Martin barred the doorway. “All of you aren’t coming in here. This lady’s son is missing. She’s not up to all this turmoil. What’s the problem, anyway?”

  “Unless you want to be arrested for obstruction of justice, you’d better stand aside,” the FBI agent said.

  “You’ll just have to arrest me then because, first of all, I don’t know who the hell you are or who you think you are. . . . Bart, what’s this about?”

  “He’s FBI, Martin. Better let him in.”

  “FBI? That was quick.”

  “He was already here working on the kidnapping.”

  Belinda curled her arm through Martin’s. “It’s okay, Martin. Maybe they can help find Danny.”

  “That, we intend to do,” FBI Special Agent Dunson said pushing his way into the living room.

  One angry face after another filed into the room.

  “So your son’s friends came back to get him?” Dunson said to Belinda.

  Belinda’s confused eyes looked at Bart Phillips.

  “These geniuses still think Danny’s involved with the church robbery,” Phillips said. “I’m sorry. Tried to make them understand, but arguing with a fool makes two fool arguing, so I gave up.”

  Color rose in Belinda’s face. “Danny would never do anything of that nature. Don’t you know that one of the kidnapped girls was his best friend?”

  “Evidence says otherwise, Mrs. Taylor. Next door neighbor shot and his car gone along with your son, and witnesses saying he was behind the wheel when the church was robbed, all add to one conclusion. You want to tell us where you think he might be? Be easier on everyone all around,” Agent Dunson said in a tone as cold as his eyes.

  The hardness in his eyes disgusted Belinda most. “You are a horrible man, even if you do work for the FBI. Get out of my house.”

  “If I have reason to believe a felony’s in progress I don’t need a warrant, Mrs. Taylor, and can search the house looking for your son.”

  “Are you a complete idiot? She called 911 to report her son missing and the man next door dead. You can’t possible believe Danny’s here,” Martin yelled.

  “I didn’t say I believed it,” Dunson said with a smirk.

  Bart Phillips grabbed one of Martin’s arms. “Don’t, Martin. I’ll help you sue the son of a bitch myself when this is over. But you,” Phillips said pointing at Dunson, “will get your butt out of this house. I’m the D.A. and just witnessed you say you’d circumvent the law. I have the Attorney General’s number right here in my phone.”

  Spittle flew from Dunson’s mouth. “I’m issuing a warrant for your son. Attempted murder of a police officer, kidnapping and grand theft auto and probably first-degree murder to top it off. That bunch circled around to pick him up and eliminate any witnesses. His little innocent act might fool the locals but it doesn’t fool me. And you,” his eyes flashing toward Bart Phillips, “sure have a peculiar idea of the law for a D.A.,” he yelled as the detectives and GBI agent ushered him out the door.

  “Yeah, it’s called civilized.” Bart yelled.

  Belinda plopped on the couch, hands to her face.

  The ser
geant who previously interviewed Belinda held back until the others left. “Ma’am, I wouldn’t pay too much attention to him. All that was probably just an act. Right, Mr. Phillips?”

  The scowl hadn’t left Bart Phillips’ face, but he recognized that Belinda did need to answer some questions if they were to have any chance of finding Danny. “He’s right, Belinda. No doubt the guy’s a jerk, but he could have been trying to rattle your cage. He doesn’t know how we do things around here.”

  Belinda raised her head and wiped tears from her face. “Well, Sergeant, like I told you, he was gone when I checked on him at nine, so I don’t know what I can add.”

  “One thing you can tell me is what kind of car the next door neighbor has.”

  “Just the van as far as . . . There was a car back there, now that I think about it. I believe it was Bernard’s sister’s, but I couldn’t tell you what kind it was. Never really paid much attention to it. So . . . so you say the car’s gone?”

  “Yes, and it’s been moved recently. Fresh tracks leading from the garage. My officers canvassed the neighbors and were given different descriptions by pretty much everyone they interviewed. That might be a good thing.”

  All eyes turned toward the sergeant.

  “If we get a good enough description, an APB for the car and your son will be issued, which would be a very bad thing. Police officers don’t take kindly to folks shooting our own.”

  “Danny had nothing to do with that,” Martin said.

  “I don’t think so either, which is why I’m telling you this.”

  “Finally,” Bart Phillips said.

  “There’s still the matter of Mr. Davis next door. What was your son’s relationship with him? Did they get along?”

  “Oh, yes. He and Danny were great friends. Besides the young lady who was kidnapped, Danny was probably closer to Bernard than anyone else. Besides me, of course.”

  “Does Danny own a .22 pistol or rifle?”

  “No, we don’t have any guns in the house. Why?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what Mr. Davis was shot with. Otherwise, the back of his head would have been blown off.”

  As the tears welled up in Belinda’s eyes again, Martin gave the sergeant a warning look.

  “I have to ask these questions. If I don’t, you know who will be back. You can see how this looks. Witnesses claiming Danny was outside in the car during the church robbery, then his next door neighbor’s shot in the head and his car gone. Danny disappearing. I mean . . . well, it looks pretty bad, but I’ve been a Benson police officer for almost 20 years and I never heard Danny Taylor’s name associated with the likes of that bunch.”

  The sergeant put his note pad in his shirt pocket and handed Belinda a card. “Please give me a call if you think of anything else, Mrs. Taylor. Maybe between me and Mr. Phillips here, we can persuade the others to at least look at other options, but unless Mr. Davis makes it and can tell us what happened—”

  Belinda’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, ‘makes it?’ Bernard’s alive?”

  “Oh, yes. Unconscious, but, yes, he’s alive. Paramedics said the bullet hit a metal plate in the back of his head.”

  30

  Headed South

  Brandy arranged her body to keep her arms from being pinned by the bulk of Smurf on one side and Whitey on the other as the Buick approached Valdosta in south Georgia.

  “Need to stop soon for gas, don’t we?” Smurf said.

  “Gas, my ass. You mean you’re hungry again is more like it.” Slink growled, adjusting the rearview mirror till his eyes met Smurf’s.

  Smurf tried a placating grin, but the hardness in Slink’s eyes didn’t diminish.

  Slink turned the mirror to its original position. “Soon as I see a good spot, we’ll stop ‘cause I know the next thing I’ll be hearing is one of these gal’s whining about the bathroom.”

  Caroline didn’t hear the sarcasm. The boredom of the interstate and droning of the tires had finally lulled her to sleep and her face rested against the door. Brandy lowered her eyes because that, indeed, was exactly what she was thinking.

  Slink surprised them all by turning onto the exit ramp for the highway to Valdosta. When he reached the red light, he turned in the direction the signs indicated for downtown Valdosta and nudged Caroline awake.

  “Wake up. We’re stopping soon for gas and bathroom break.”

  Caroline woke slowly, nausea rising as the awareness of where she was and who she was with flooded her mind and drove the exhaustion away. She blinked away the sleep then glanced back at Brandy with what she hoped was an encouraging smile, but Brandy’s forlorn expression didn’t change.

  Slink pulled into a strip-mall parking lot. “We passed a mom and pop station back there that looked okay. Now let me tell you gals how this is gonna work. We’re all going in except Smurf. Sweetness, you’re gonna stick with me, and you, you pain in the ass, are gonna stick with Whitey and shop around on the shelves for something to eat. After I check the place out, I’m gonna peep in the ladies room and see if anyone’s in there. When I think it’s okay, Sweet Cheeks is going in by herself and I’m gonna block the door and not let anyone else in. After she’s finished, you go in and do your business. And, in case you get any bright ideas about leaving some kind of message on the walls or what not, I’m going in and check. If you know what’s good for you, them walls and mirrors better be clean. You got me? Cruel eyes left no doubt the consequences would be severe.

  Brandy and Caroline nodded.

  “Okay then.”

  “What about me?” Smurf said.

  “I’ll pay for the gas when I go inside, and you pump it. Stand between the pump and the window so the clerk can’t see you. This way we don’t fit the description that I’m sure is on all the channels by now.”

  Smurf’s broad face looked glum, but he managed to keep his complaints to himself.

  Slink turned the car around and in a moment turned into a whitewashed full-service station with four islands of gas pumps. With a final warning look at each of the women, he motioned them all out. He let the women and Whitey walk ahead of him then motioned some other instructions to Smurf.

  Four other people shopped the aisles when Slink entered. He touched Caroline’s arm guiding her down one aisle stocked with canned beans, chili, Spam, tuna fish, spaghetti, and other edibles. Whitey clutched Brandy’s arm and they turned down an aisle stocked with pastries and bread.

  The bathrooms were in the back corner. They’d been in the store for about two minutes when the women’s door opened and a plumb woman came out. Slink pulled Caroline toward the door then opened it for her and peeped inside. “Go ahead. And don’t get stupid.”

  Caroline cut her eyes at him then pulled the door shut behind her.

  Slink used the men’s room then came out and walked over to Whitey. “Both of you go ahead. Don’t forget what I said,” he told Brandy.

  Caroline exited just as Brandy went in. Brandy couldn’t restrain herself and flung her arms around Caroline. Terrified by what Slink might do, Caroline pulled Brandy into the bathroom then pushed her away. “Don’t make a scene. Just another day or two and we’ll be okay. If you act up, there’s no telling what he might do. All right?” Caroline watched the panic subside then gave her a quick hug and stepped back into the store before Slink could get there.

  As she feared, he strode up the aisle with a murderous expression on his face. Caroline flashed a seductive smile then wrapped her arms around him and whispered. “She’s okay. I talked to her. She just lost it for a minute.”

  “She’d better be. I’ll leave her in there if she’s not.”

  “Can I go back in and calm her down a little bit. I think it will help.”

  “What are you up to, Sweet Cheeks? Getting soft are you?”

  Caroline forced the smile to stay on her face for the benefit of anyone watching. “I’m not doing it for you. I just want to get out of this without anyone else getting hurt.”

&nbs
p; “You just said she was okay, so why do you need to go back in?”

  “Just thought it would help.”

  “You’ve helped enough. Grab what you want to eat and let’s get outta here.”

  Slink waited around the bathroom until Brandy came out then took a six-pack of beer and a big 40-ounce bottle from the cooler and motioned to Whitey that it was time to go. He waited by the counter for Caroline and Brandy.

  “I’ve got all this,” he told the clerk, and they laid their items on the counter.

  Whitey stood by the door and held it open.

  Caroline walked out first then Brandy, with Slink right behind her.

  As soon as she cleared the doorway, Brandy bolted. There was a patch of open space between the gas station and a restaurant next door. She had almost cleared the edge of the gas station when Slink yelled, “Smurf,” and Smurf stepped from around the corner of the station and grabbed Brandy in his bear-like grasp.

  “Scream and I’ll break your neck right here.”

  Brandy couldn’t draw a breath much less scream. She nodded and Smurf released her except for a firm grip on her arm, which he used to lead her to the car.

  Slink sat in the front seat waiting on them.

  Caroline studied his face for some sign of rage, but he seemed calm, and that caused her stomach to flutter with dread.

  He drove to the edge of the parking lot, looked both ways, then lunged over the seat and stabbed a four-inch knife blade deep in Brandy’s thigh.

  Brandy stared blankly at the bloody knife in Slink’s hand until the pain broke through her already tortured mind. A long shriek pierced the air as blood ran down her leg.

  Slink smacked her with an open palm and held the blade to her face. “If you don’t stop that wailing, I’ll cut your tongue out.”

  The shrieks turned to garbled moans as Brandy held the leg and rocked back in forth.

  Slink wiped the blade on her other pants leg. “That ought’a slow you down some, you stupid bitch,” he said and drove out of the lot.