On the Lam

by SUE FINEMAN

  As he looked at the floor plan he’d been working on, Bo wondered if Callie would want more children. He’d be satisfied with two, but if she wanted another one, he’d add a room to the house. His kids would each have their own room. He’d always hated having so many kids crammed into one little bedroom when he was a kid.

  Funny how he hadn’t wanted any kids himself, and now, if Callie agreed to marry him, he’d be taking responsibility for two.

  Greg seemed to think Callie and Brady were all right living in town, but Bo had his doubts. He glanced at the clock. First thing in the morning, he’d call Greg and have him find someone to watch over them until he got there.

  Callie needed protection.

  Having Randy sleep on her sofa wasn’t enough.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As soon as she got Brady settled in school, Callie drove out to the ranch to check the house and make sure she hadn’t left anything of importance behind. The house sat empty, rotting from mold and termite damage. The ceiling in the kitchen fell in after she moved out. It broke her heart to see her family home in this condition, but it didn’t get this way overnight, and she doubted it could be fixed, no matter now much money she poured into it.

  She and Skeeter rode the fence lines that morning, fixing what they could and filling gopher holes along the way. They were on their way back to the barn when he nodded toward the main road. “That old pickup has been by here at least ten times in the past twenty-four hours. I saw it parked down the road yesterday, when the school bus came by.”

  “Oh, God.” They were out in the open, targets for a man with revenge on his mind. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sent Brady back to school yet. If that’s Tommy Ray—”

  “I gave Greg the license number and he’s checking it out. Call him and let him know the pickup is here again. If that’s Tommy Ray, you’re better off staying right here.”

  Callie held herself back from kicking Betty Grable into a run. She used her cell phone to call Greg at the sheriff’s office. Her hands shook as she punched in the number.

  The pickup slowed and stopped by the side of the road, and the window rolled down. Skeeter cocked his rifle and aimed before she saw the glint of the sun on the rifle barrel sticking out the truck’s window. She couldn’t see the driver, but she knew who it was.

  Tommy Ray.

  Instead of shooting, the driver sped off. “What’s he waiting for? Why doesn’t he just shoot me and get it over with?”

  They galloped back to the barn, and minutes later, Greg pulled through the gates and drove back to the barn. “I had men coming from both directions, and the damn truck disappeared.”

  “Somebody’s hiding him,” said Skeeter.

  Callie nodded. “Mary Bickley?”

  Greg leaned back on Tommy Ray’s patrol car. “It looks that way. Neen ran into her at the grocery store yesterday, and the clerk mentioned that she always did her shopping on Wednesdays, and here she was, back on Thursday, and she bought chewing tobacco. Her husband doesn’t chew. Dave is having someone track her movements. Apparently, the preacher’s wife hasn’t been at home much in the past few days.”

  Callie sat on a bale of hay. “Why would she do that?”

  “To prove you’re a liar. When Neen went to choir practice, she overheard Mary telling someone that you couldn’t be trusted, that you’d lied about everything because you wanted a younger man. After everything Tommy Ray has done for you.”

  “Everything he’s done?” Her voice rose, and she didn’t care. “Tommy Ray convinced Chet to rape me and then told my folks that my date had ‘gotten out of hand.’ He blackmailed Daddy into giving him the ranch and convinced Mama that I was ‘ruined’ and if somebody didn’t marry me, the whole family would be an outcast. And then the minute Mama and Daddy died, he sat on the closet floor trying to get the safe open, so he could get those maps and steal that gold from me. He sold everything that meant anything to me, including my horses, and I can’t even tell you the horror my son and I went through at his hands. And half the town stood in the bank and saw him raise his hand to hit me. They heard him offer to trade my son for that gold. And I’m the one who’s lying?”

  Greg said to Skeeter, “I guess this is why Bo calls her Calamity Jane.”

  “It’s not funny!” She jumped to her feet. “Mary Bickley elevated Tommy Ray to sainthood, called my son a bastard, and accused me of lying. Folks believe everything she says because she’s the preacher’s wife, and I’m just a stupid girl who let my parents talk me into making the worst mistake of my life.”

  Greg hugged her tightly. “You may have been a stupid girl then, but you’re not now. You’re a wise woman who has the courage to divorce a brutal man and start over. It takes a strong woman to take control and start a new business while someone like Mary Bickley takes pot shots at her. But you know what I like the most about you?”

  She sniffled. “What?”

  “You believe in my brother. He needs that now, Callie.”

  “I know he does, but I don’t want Tommy Ray using Bo for target practice. Maybe it’s a good thing he’s still in Tacoma.” She didn’t want Tommy Ray shooting at Bo.

  Skeeter pulled the saddles off the horses and brushed Buttercup down while Callie worked on Betty Grable. She did believe in Bo. Sometimes she thought she believed in him more than he believed in himself. Getting used to the idea that his arm would never be whole again bruised his tender male pride. So what if he couldn’t do all the physical work on the ranch? As soon as they started bringing in some money, she’d hire Leroy and Dwayne to help with that. They’d do all right as long as someone supervised them.

  “I ‘spect I’d better be getting home.”

  Greg shook his head. “You and Brady are staying with us for a few days.”

  “But Randy—”

  “Randy does okay with traffic tickets and such, but he’s afraid of his own shadow. Neen is afraid he’ll shoot you by mistake.”

  A smile pulled at Callie’s mouth. “Not if he’s aiming for me. Randy can’t hit the long side of a barn.”

  Greg leaned on the barn wall. “Albert said you’re the best shot in town.”

  “I was before I married Tommy Ray, but I’m out of practice now. Tommy Ray locked all the guns up in the cabinet and took the key. I ‘spose he was afraid I’d get up the gumption to shoot him one of these days.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  She looked him square him the eye and told the truth. “I considered it, and I would’ve shot to kill, but I didn’t want to go to jail and leave my little boy without his mama.”

  “If you didn’t have Brady?”

  “If I didn’t have Brady, the first time Tommy Ray handcuffed me to that bed would have been the last. I’d rather spend my life in a prison cell than let Tommy Ray touch me like that again. If he ever comes near me or my son again, stay out of my way, because I will kill him.”

  Greg shared a look with Skeeter, who said, “I didn’t hear that.”

  “Me neither,” said Greg.

  “No jury in the country would convict her.”

  “They would if they were all wife-beaters like Tommy Ray.” Callie sighed. “What’s a woman supposed to do, put up with it until he kills her?” Mama saw the bruises and looked the other way, but Daddy never knew. If he’d known, he would have put a stop to it.

  <>

  Bo left Mom and Katie in Tacoma with the understanding that he’d fly back to drive them to Texas during Christmas break. Mom’s ankle needed more time to heal, and she needed to figure out what to pack and what to sell or give away.

  After his morning swim, Bo started off and drove until late afternoon, when his arm started to tighten up. He found a motel with a pool and worked out the stiffness. An attractive woman with frosted hair asked him if he was working out for the Olympics.

  “Just working out.”

  She invited him to have dinner with her, and he declined. “I don’t think my fiancée would appreciate it.”

&nb
sp; “Just my luck. All the cute guys are taken.”

  Bo laughed it off, but her words made him feel proud. Swimming built up the muscles in more than his bad arm, which the woman didn’t seem to notice. Aside from trying to work around his limitations in bed and massaging his arm when it hurt, Callie didn’t pay much attention to it either. The person with the biggest problem was Bo himself. He should’ve learned to deal with it by now.

  Two days later, Bo stopped for the night in Flagstaff. If he didn’t swim twice a day, he could make better time. The next day he made it to Amarillo. It would take him five days to get to Caledonia, and Tommy Ray drove it in two with a kid behind his seat.

  Bo stopped at the ranch on the way to town. “Skeeter, where’s Callie?”

  “She and Brady are staying with Greg and Neen.”

  “Why? Did something happen?”

  “There’s an old pickup in the area that looks suspicious. It stopped on the road out front and the driver stuck a rifle barrel out the window. Greg knew you wouldn’t want Callie staying anywhere alone until we cleaned up the garbage.” Skeeter lifted his chin. “Are you here to stay?”

  “Yeah, I’m here to stay, if Callie will have me.”

  “Damn!” Skeeter spoke so softly Bo barely heard him.

  “What? Did you want her for yourself?” From the look on Skeeter’s face, Bo realized Greg was right. He’d never seen Skeeter pay much attention to women, but if Bo wasn’t there, he’d go after Callie. Maybe he already had. Skeeter had two good arms, but he had a plate in his head, and there were times when he was in worse shape than Bo.

  Bo and Skeeter walked down the drive toward the road and Bo pointed to a spot in front of the existing barn and to the right. “We’ll put the new barn over there, with the long side facing the road, so we can paint the name of the ranch on the side.” He pointed to the left. “The house will go on the side of the hill, with the pool in front, and we’ll put a little house on the other side of the pool for my mother.”

  “Garage?”

  Bo pointed. “In the middle, where those old cars were. Four bays with a workshop in back and an apartment upstairs for you. When we start making money, we’ll hire Leroy and Dwayne to do the grunt work. They can help build the barn.”

  “Greg said there were people at church who planned to help build the barn. Week after next, if we can get the materials by then. Apparently, an old-fashioned barn raising is a tradition in Caledonia, and everyone wants Callie’s horse ranch to get off to a good start. Stan Houser has a verbal okay from the county. All you need to get the building permit is a plan, and Greg found someone to do that.”

  “Okay.” Bo looked off into the distance. He’d forgotten the building permit. “I have a lot to learn.”

  “You sure do.”

  Bo didn’t know if Skeeter meant horses or buildings or Callie. He sat in his car and rolled down the window. “Go easy on me, Skeeter.”

  Skeeter pulled out his mouth harp, his constant companion. The music followed Bo down the drive.

  Halfway to town, Bo spotted an old brown pickup coming up fast behind him. Grabbing his cell phone, he punched in Greg’s phone number at the sheriff’s office. Instead of holding the phone up to his ear where the man in the truck could see it, he shouted, “Greg, this is Bo. I’m about five miles from town on Old Caledonia Road, and a pickup is trying to force me off the road.”

  The truck came up on him and bumped him in the rear. “Damn! He hit me.” Bo stepped on the gas, but he doubted he could outrun the pickup, and he didn’t dare stop. If that was Tommy Ray—and who else would try to kill him?—he could be armed.

  The pickup hit him again, this time harder, nearly knocking his car off the road. “I need some help here, brother. Right now.”

  The guy in the pickup pulled up beside him and hit him from the side, sending the car rolling off the road and into the ditch. The airbag went off and his seatbelt tightened. The car landed passenger side down, but the seatbelt held Bo in place. He was shaken up, but not hurt. Not yet. The situation could change in a heartbeat.

  The pickup stopped down the road and backed up toward him. Bo pulled his gun from the glove box, poked his head out the window, and aimed for the tires on the pickup. The first shot hit the rear tire and the second one hit the front tire. The pickup stopped about fifty feet away, and Bo took aim a third time, watching and waiting for the man to come out.

  At the faint sound of a siren, the pickup took off, limping in the direction of town. Seconds later, it came back, and the man driving had a rifle pointed at Bo.

  Icy fingers of fear crawled up his back as he took aim. The car settled at that moment, and his bullet missed. It hit the door panel on the pickup. The acrid stench of gasoline filled his nostrils and Bo leaned away from the window as bullets pinged into his car. Thank God, the guy was a lousy shot. He prayed that none of those bullets connected with the spilled gasoline until after he got out. One spark and the whole thing would go up.

  Bo fired once more, but he didn’t see where the bullet went. Sirens sounded down the road and the truck moved on. Bo used his pocketknife to cut the jammed seatbelt. He was struggling to get out when Greg arrived. “Get me the hell out of here before this thing goes up.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “No, but he will be if I get my hands on him.”

  Greg wrapped his belt around under Bo’s arms and pulled until Bo’s knees were on the outside of the car. Bo stepped out and moved away from the car while he explained to Greg what happened.

  “Describe the man.”

  “Gray streaked beard, blue cap with the bill pulled down low, aviator sunglasses, a blue and red plaid shirt, and he shot at me with a rifle. He must have followed me from the ranch.”

  “Was it Tommy Ray?”

  “I couldn’t identify him without the cap and glasses and beard, if that’s what you’re asking. Who else would try to kill me?”

  Greg called Skeeter first, so he’d be on the watch for the pickup, and then he called a tow truck. While they waited for the tow truck, he did his crime scene measurements and took pictures. Bo paced off his frustration and tried not to look at his wrecked car.

  After the tow truck pulled the Subaru out of the ditch, Greg broke the back window and handed out Bo’s luggage. He also got the cell phone and gun from the front seat.

  Bo wasn’t just bruised and sore from getting knocked around. The fire of rage burned inside him. If Tommy Ray thought he could intimidate him, he didn’t want to live very long. Nobody shot at him and got away with it. Nobody!

  Greg’s radio crackled and one of his deputies said, “I found the truck at the junction of Old Caledonia Road and the highway. It has two flat tires, a bullet hole in the driver’s door, and fresh blood on the back of the seat, left side.”

  “Flag it, but don’t touch it. I want fingerprints.”

  “I guess my last bullet connected,” said Bo. “Too bad I didn’t kill the son-of-a-bitch. He could be anywhere by now.”

  “He didn’t leave the area before, and he sure as hell didn’t leave it this time. You shot him, and he’s bleeding. He’s right here under our noses. I can almost smell him.”

  Greg turned the patrol car around and followed the tow truck to town. On the way, he called Randy. “Bring Mary Bickley in for questioning. Put her in the cell until I get there, and for God’s sake, lock the damn door this time.”

  Bo leaned his head back. The adrenalin that had coursed through his body during the attack had settled, leaving him drained and worried about what Tommy Ray would do next. “Is Callie all right?”

  “She seems to be doing all right physically, but when she and Skeeter saw that rifle barrel poking out the window of that pickup, it scared her. She pulled Brady out of school again, and they’re staying at our house for now. Neen doesn’t mind, since Callie is cleaning and cooking all the time, but it’s all nervous energy.”

  “I wanted to give her the fairy tale and now—”

  “Do i
t later, after we put Tommy Ray out of business.”

  Bo planned to put him out of business all right, and when he finished, the guy wouldn’t ever hurt anyone again. “Is Callie armed?”

  “Yeah, she’s got that pistol from the ranch. Skeeter has guns all over the place, which is why he doesn’t want Brady at the ranch. I’m thinking we should send the kid back to Mom until this is resolved.”

  Bo shook his head. “Mom can barely take care of herself right now.”

  Greg glanced at Bo and then back at the road. “I thought she just sprained her ankle.”

  “It’s a bad sprain, and it isn’t healing like it should. Katie is doing the laundry and cooking. She’s afraid the state will take her away if they know Mom hurt herself. I need to talk to Callie about adoption, but—”

  “It’ll keep for another day or two, and if things go all right with Mary Bickley, we should have our hands on Tommy Ray by tonight. I need more deputies. You interested?”

  “Sure.” He’d do anything that would give him a legitimate reason to kill Tommy Ray Caldwell.

  Greg pulled up in front of the jailhouse and made one more phone call. “Neen, we’ll have one more for dinner tonight.” He glanced at Bo. “It’s a surprise guest. Don’t tell Callie.”

  <>

  Mary Bickley sat in the jail cell, a worried look in her eyes and a pout on her round face. Randy said, “She ain’t said much since I brought her in. I figure she knows why she’s here.”

  “Did you read Mary her rights?” asked Bo.

  “No, sir. Greg didn’t say she was under arrest.”

  “I’ll do it,” said Greg. “Randy, Bo is going to be working with us on this case. He’s on temporary duty as a deputy.”

  “Hey, that’s great.”

  Greg pulled a chair up outside the jail cell for Bo and another one for himself. He didn’t unlock the door.