by James Swain
Buster whined as I walked away from my car.
Seppi and Wood were standing by the break in the fence when I returned. Seppi had her cell phone out, and looked at me expectantly.
“Everything set?” I asked Wood.
“We’re ready whenever you are,” Wood replied.
“Call him,” I said to Seppi.
Seppi called Travis Bledsoe on her cell phone. I stood close enough to Seppi to hear the call go through. It rang ten times before Bledsoe finally answered. His voice was thick with sleep.
“This had better be good,” Bledsoe said by way of greeting.
“Travis, this is Victoria Seppi,” Seppi said.
“Whatta yah want, Victoria?”
“Something bad’s happened. I need your help.”
“Call the flipping sheriff. That’s what he gets paid for,” Bledsoe snapped.
“Sheriff Morcroft’s hurt, and so’s his deputy.”
“Hurt? What do you mean?”
“I was driving down Highway Forty-seven, and saw a huge hole in the fence,” Seppi said. “I figured a car had gone through it, and went to look. Sure enough, there’s Sheriff Morcroft and his deputy hanging upside down in his pickup at the bottom of a hill.”
“Are they alive?”
“Yeah, but they’re all busted up. Sheriff Morcroft asked me to call you. He said you’d know what to do.”
“For the love of Christ, are they drunk?”
“They’re hurt, Travis. You’ve got to help me.”
“Fuck it. All right. I’ll come out there with my boys.”
“Thank you, Travis.”
Seppi folded her cell phone. She shivered from an early-morning chill. I put my hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.
“Did I do good?” Seppi asked.
“That was perfect,” I said.
I walked with Seppi and Wood across the field. We stopped at the top of the borrow pit, and stared down at the sheriff’s upside-down pickup truck. The SWAT team was at the bottom of the hill, and had taken up positions around the piles of debris that were lying around the pickup. Each SWAT team member wore body armor and carried a menacing-looking assault rifle. Linderman was with them. He’d also donned body armor and was carrying a shotgun.
Seppi crossed herself and turned her back on the dead men. She was holding up well, considering the situation.
“I need to talk to the SWAT team,” Wood said. “Sound the alarm when the Bledsoes arrive.”
“Will do,” I said.
Wood started down the hill. The wind had picked up, and the sound of my dog barking could be heard in the distance. Wood halted and looked at me.
“Is that what I think it is?” the FBI agent asked.
“Sounds like it,” I said.
“Want me to go shut him up?”
There were three things in this world a person wasn’t supposed to mess with, and one of them was a man’s dog. I almost told Wood to go to hell.
“He’ll calm down,” I said.
Wood walked away. The sky was growing lighter and filling with color. Soon the darkness had been erased, and a chorus of chattering birds greeted the new day.
“I used to dream about this day,” Seppi said.
Linderman had said the same thing to me earlier. I knew that his dreams and Seppi’s were much different.
“What was in your dream?” I asked.
“I dreamed that a stranger came to town. He looked just like Clint Eastwood, and he was carrying a rifle. He shot Mouse and Lonnie dead, then he shot Sheriff Morcroft and his deputy and the Bledsoes. Shot every one of them between the eyes, and killed them. But when I’d wake up, nothing would have changed.”
“It has changed. Everything has changed.”
“I know, but it still doesn’t feel real.”
I heard the low rumble of thunder. The wind had shifted, and was blowing from the east. Looking in that direction, I saw a line of single headlights rumbling down the road toward us. Motorcycles, moving fast.
“Bledsoe and his sons are coming,” I said.
CHAPTER 56
I knelt down behind the hill so as not to be seen. Seppi remained standing, and waved to the Bledsoe clan.
Lifting my head, I watched the Bledsoes roar up. Travis Bledsoe rode in a sidecar, the empty sleeve of his leather jacket flapping in the breeze. A boy that was his spitting image drove the motorcycle attached to the sidecar, while his three other sons rode behind their father in souped-up Harleys. Each member of the clan wore a black leather jacket and a colorful bandanna to keep their flowing hair tied out of their faces. It was like watching a remake of Easy Rider.
“Is that all of them?” I asked.
“There are two others, but they’re in prison,” Seppi said.
The Bledsoes parked their hogs behind Seppi’s Honda. Travis climbed out of the sidecar, hitched up his pants, and had a look around. His leather jacket was unzippered, and I spotted a huge sidearm tucked behind his waistband.
“Call them,” I said.
“I’m scared,” Seppi whispered.
“You’re supposed to be scared. Something bad has happened.”
Seppi cleared her throat. “Hey Travis, over here!”
Travis Bledsoe and his sons looked our way. I ducked down further, and began to retreat down into the borrow pit. Seppi stayed at the top, her feet frozen to the ground.
“Are they coming?” I asked.
“Yes, they’re running this way,” Seppi said.
“Come on,” I exhorted her.
Seppi snapped out of it, and scampered down the pit. I grabbed her by the hand, and together we ran to the pickup. The other members of our group had gone invisible, and I felt myself panic. I hadn’t asked Wood where we were supposed to hide.
Linderman’s head popped up from behind a large mound of brush.
“Jack… over here!”
I pulled Seppi over to the spot and we both ducked down. Wood and Linderman were hiding behind the brush along with two of the SWAT team members.
“Good work,” Wood said. “Now stay out of sight.”
“Yes, sir,” I said.
We heard the Bledsoes reach the top of the borrow pit. They were discussing how stupid they thought the sheriff was for wrecking his truck when their voices suddenly stopped.
“There’s the sheriff’s pickup. Where’s Victoria?” one of the sons said.
“I don’t know,” another son said. “You see her, Pop?”
“No,” Travis said. “This don’t smell right. Nobody move.”
The plan wasn’t going to work if Travis and his sons didn’t come down the hill. I looked at Seppi. Her eyes told me she understood.
“Hey, Victoria, where’d you go?” Travis called out.
Seppi’s face turned fearful. Then, just as suddenly, her resolve returned. She pushed herself away from me, and scurried around the mound and into view.
“Over here, Travis. I’m over here,” Seppi called out.
“There she is,” Travis said. “Come on, boys.”
I stole a glance around the debris. Seppi stood beside the sheriff’s pickup, waiting for Travis and his sons. She glanced my way, and somehow found the courage to smile at me. I prayed it wasn’t the last time she did that.
I drew my Colt, and looked at Wood.
“Tell her to get down,” Wood whispered.
I stole another glance at Seppi. Travis and his sons had reached the pickup, and were peering inside the cab. The armless man’s eyes went wide.
“What the hell-they’re both dead!” Travis said.
Seppi started to back away from the pickup.
“Not so fast, you little bitch,” Travis said.
Travis grabbed Seppi by the shoulder and shook her. She clawed his face and broke free, and started to run. Travis drew his gun and aimed at Seppi’s feet.
“We’ve been set up, boys,” Travis said.
Travis fired several bullets at Seppi’s feet. She screamed, and fell face-fir
st to the ground. Travis aimed at her back, laughing his fool head off as he prepared to kill her. His four sons simultaneously drew their guns.
I came around the mound. I’d gotten Seppi into this, and it was my responsibility to make sure she survived. I aimed at Travis, and started squeezing the trigger of my Colt. I did not stop until I was out of bullets.
My first two shots popped Travis in the chest. The armless man staggered backward with blood pouring from his mouth. He fell against the pickup and his gun dropped from his hand. Then he just seemed to melt into the earth.
One of the Bledsoe boys rushed to his father’s aid. The others aimed their weapons at me. I didn’t have anything to fight them with, and lowered my arm. I saw my life flash before my eyes, and all the things I’d yet to do.
“Throw down your weapons!” Wood shouted.
The SWAT team came out from hiding, their assault rifles aimed at the Bledsoe boys. It was an old-fashioned Mexican standoff, and I was in the middle of it.
“Now!” Wood shouted.
One of the Bledsoes had the foresight to drop his gun, and throw his arms into the air. But the others didn’t, and started firing.
It was the last thing any of the Bledsoe clan ever did.
CHAPTER 57
I ran to where Seppi lay facedown in the earth. The air was choking with the smell of gunfire and death, the sound of the SWAT team’s furious assault echoing across the barren fields like a Fourth of July celebration that had gone awry. Kneeling, I looked for any signs of bullet holes on Seppi’s body. Her clothing was clean, and I gently touched her shoulder.
“Hey,” I said.
Seppi’s head twisted in the earth. “Is the shooting over?”
“Yes. Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“Come on. You need to get up.”
I helped Seppi to her feet. She came off the ground slowly, like someone rising from a deep sleep. She looked around at the Bledsoes and shook her head ruefully.
“Did any of them get away?” she asked.
“No. That was real brave, what you did.”
“I don’t know what came over me. I hope I didn’t screw up your plan.”
“Not at all.”
The SWAT team were checking the Bledsoes for signs of life. I guided Seppi past them and up the hill. Reaching the top, she stopped to glance over her shoulder.
“Are they all dead?” she asked.
I looked back as well. The Bledsoes were sprawled around the sheriff’s pickup, and didn’t have an ounce of life left in their bodies. It wasn’t the ending any of us had hoped for, but sometimes justice has a way of catching up to people, and making them pay for their sins. The Bledsoes had gotten exactly what they deserved.
“Yes,” I said. “They’re all dead.”
I started to lead Seppi back to my car. She took a few hesitant steps, then stopped walking. The blood had drained from her face, and she did not look well. I had her lean against me, then took her wrist, and felt for her pulse.
“Your heart rate is high,” I told her.
“It’s always high,” she said.
“You don’t look good.”
“Just give me a minute to catch my breath. I’ll be fine.”
Linderman came up the hill and joined us. I’d seen him shoot one of the Bledsoes with his shotgun, the boy flying through the air like he’d been struck by a car. Looking at him now, I would never have known he’d just killed someone.
“That was an awfully brave thing you did,” Linderman said.
Seppi leaned against me for support. “I’m glad I could help,” she said.
“Special Agent Wood would like you to show us where Mouse and Lonnie’s compound is,” Linderman said. “He’s afraid of getting lost.”
“I can do that,” Seppi said.
“I’ll tell Wood,” Linderman said. “He wants to leave right now.”
“I’m ready when you are,” she said.
Linderman marched back down the hill. I started to protest, and Seppi dug her fingernails into my arm so hard it made me wince.
“Don’t,” she said.
“But you’re not well,” I said. “You need to go to a hospital, and get checked out.”
“I told you… I just need to catch my breath.”
“We have your map. You don’t need to do this. We can find them.”
Seppi glanced furtively over her shoulder. Satisfied none of the others could hear her, she leaned in close, her eyes glistening with tears.
“I lied to you earlier,” she said.
“You did? About what?” I asked.
“Mouse and Lonnie used to take turns sleeping with me. I want to see the FBI shoot those sons-a-bitches. Please let me be there.”
I swallowed hard. Seppi had told me her darkest secret. How could I deny her?
“All right,” I said.
CHAPTER 58
The road leading to Mouse and Lonnie’s farm had been carved through a dense forest of trees, and was barely wide enough for two cars. I drove slow, afraid of hitting one of the many deer that peered out from the shadows.
A Colonial-style house came into view. The paint was peeling and three cars were parked in the front yard. On the front porch sat a woman in a rocker. She was missing her right foot. She looked up from her knitting, and waved to us.
“Wave back,” Seppi said.
“Why?” Linderman asked.
“That’s Travis Bledsoe’s wife, Delia,” Seppi explained.
We lowered our windows, and waved to the widow Bledsoe. Wood, who trailed us in his Audi, did the same, as did the drivers of both SWAT team vans.
“How much farther to the dairy farm?” Linderman asked.
“A couple of miles. It’s the only place around here. You can’t miss it.”
Linderman still had his body armor on, and was cradling a shotgun in his lap. There was no hiding his apprehension. He was ready for his nightmare to be over.
– – The most evil of places looked banal, almost dull. They were never dungeons equipped with torture equipment, or attics where the dead hung from the rafters, but were usually houses or farms that could be found in every community.
Mouse and Lonnie’s dairy farm was such a place. It had several overgrown pastures, a red barn with a weather vane on its roof, and a two-story shingle house with lead-glass windows and hurricane shutters. Had there not been a tall fence with razor wire surrounding the property, it might have passed as a B amp;B.
“That’s it,” Seppi said.
“Anyone home?” I asked.
“That’s their Jeep. It’s parked by the house.”
I slowed down. Mouse and Lonnie’s Jeep Cherokee was parked next to the side door of the house. The backseat was filled with groceries. It made me think that they’d just gotten home, and gone shopping.
I lowered my window and stuck my arm out. I pointed at the farm so that Wood and the drivers of the SWAT team vans would know that we’d arrived.
In my mirror, I saw Wood gesture. Wood wanted me to pull over. I obliged him, and let Wood and the vans pass me.
The vans drove up to the gate in front of the house. The gate had a metal chain and a padlock keeping it closed. Two SWAT team members jumped out of the van. One had a pair of bolt cutters, which he used to cut the chain.
The sound of a clanging bell made me jump in my seat.
“What the hell was that?” Linderman asked.
“There’s a bell on top of the house,” Seppi said. “Mouse used to ring it when there was trouble.”
“They’re on to us,” Linderman said.
The bell stopped ringing. Then a shot rang out. The man with the cutters clutched his arm, and dropped to the ground. I grabbed Seppi and pulled her head down.
“You said all Mouse had was a pistol,” Linderman said to her.
“He’s a good shot,” Seppi replied.
The other members of the SWAT team slipped out of the van, and took up positions behind him. They
began to fire back. Wood and his assistant got out of the Audi with their weapons drawn. I heard Wood telling the SWAT team to be selective with their shots because there was a hostage inside the house.
The firing coming from the house suddenly stopped.
“Both of you stay here,” Linderman said.
Linderman got out of my Legend, and took up a position with the SWAT team. The firing from the house resumed, with bullets now hitting the SWAT team vehicle. I was a sitting target. I threw my car into reverse, and floored it.
I kept driving in reverse until I was out of range. Then I sat very still, and clutched the wheel. Seppi was still crouched down, and lifted her head.
“What’s happening?” she asked.
“They’re shooting at each other. Stay down.”
Seppi lowered her head. I continued to grip the wheel. I found myself wondering why Mouse had rung the bell when we’d pulled up. The bell in a farmhouse was used to call to people working outside. Had Mouse rung the bell to alert Lonnie?
“Didn’t you tell me the farm backed up onto a national forest?” I asked.
“Yes. There are several thousand acres,” Seppi said.
“Did Mouse or Lonnie ever go back there?”
“Lonnie did.”
“A lot?”
“Yes. It was his favorite place.”
I threw my car into drive and floored the accelerator.
“Show me where the forest is,” I said.
CHAPTER 59
Peppi pointed and I drove. My wheels tore up the grass as I left the road and drove around the farm. Seppi pointed to the gate at the back of the property. It was open, and swinging with the wind.
“There,” Seppi said.
I pulled up alongside the gate, and threw my Legend into park. From the glove compartment I grabbed the box of bullets that I took with me wherever I went, and reloaded my Colt.
“Show me where the path into the forest starts,” I said.
Seppi led across a short field to the path. It was recently trampled, with two sets of footprints clearly visible in the dirt. Buster sniffed the path and started to whine.
