Mountain Justice

by Phillip W Price

  “Seriously?”

  “As a heart attack. Now, you get your shit straight. I’ll cover for you when I can, but I’ve got to have a job. So, YOYO.”

  “Yoyo?”

  “You’re on your own, motherfucker.”

  I knew that was right. “You can tell them I’ve met with the DA and the Sheriff. Nothing exciting to report. I’ll check my emails at night.” Then, I gave her the phone number in the motel room. She wrote down the address and the room number in a log the Radio Room keeps.

  “I’ll pass that on. And don’t get in trouble over this shit. They’ll be checking to see what you have to say every afternoon. The Inspector says he is reporting straight to the Director. Get with the program.”

  “Thanks, Emma. I owe you, as always. I’ll be on time tomorrow.”

  She hung up on me. Not angry, just matter of fact. We had history.

  I realized I was probably also late for dinner. I washed my face, straightened my shirt, and crammed my gun down into my waistband. Then, I was off to find Nelson’s house. Since he had given me good directions, not to mention the map, I was at his home in less than twenty minutes.

  Willie Nelson lived in a modest house with a huge pasture in the back. When I pulled in, I could see his DNR truck parked around back and a minivan in the front. There were at least three kids I could see, running and chasing each other around the big front yard.

  Willie pushed open the screen door and came out on the front porch. The white house looked to be over twenty years old but was well kept and freshly painted. Nothing looked out of place.

  “Y’all get in the house and get washed up for supper,” he shouted at the kids. When one of the youngest wasn’t fast enough, he followed up with, “I’m not telling you a second time. Get in the house.”

  He glanced at me, embarrassed. I smiled and shrugged. “Got to keep a tight rein on boys like that. Nature of the beast, I guess.”

  He nodded. “They’ll tear up a concrete slab if you don’t watch ’em. And they’ll play in the woods all day, at least until they get hungry.” He smiled his broad smile. “But that’s how I was as a kid!”

  He motioned me inside. A very beautiful young woman with long dark hair and a plain summer dress stood at the stove. She turned and gave me a smile. I introduced myself, and she moved away from the stove to extend a hand.

  “Beth, he’s the GBI man I told you about,” Willie said.

  She had a genuine smile that made me want to smile back. “A pleasure to meet you,” she said.

  “Thank you for letting me intrude on your life. I guess your husband told you they sent me up here to work with no idea what I was getting into?”

  “He didn’t have to,” she said as she turned back to the stove top. “I’ve been married to him as long as he has worked for the State. I know how they do you. Doesn’t matter what agency you’re talking about. Troopers, GBI, DNR. They’re all just as screwed up.”

  A girl in a checkered dress, who looked to be around ten, ran into the room and shouted, “Mama said ‘screwed’!” Beth shushed her and sent her to wash her hands. She sighed and then looked at me. “You have any kids?”

  “Nope,” I said. “Just me. I’m all I can handle.”

  She laughed. “Good call. I have four here. Five if you count Willie.”

  I laughed and asked her if there was any way I could help with dinner.

  “Just make yourself at home. I got this. Three boys like stair steps and one girl. Turns out the boys are easier. Feed them, make them clean up every once and a while, and they’re good. Girls, on the other hand, have lives filled with drama. School drama, friend drama, and drama drama. But you have to love them.” She paused, then continued, “Don’t you have to?” She laughed again and turned away. It was clear that Willie had a keeper.

  “You stuck chasing them all day?”

  “No, I’m an ER nurse at Fannin Regional. Aren’t all you cops attracted to nurses? Or is it just the ones in uniform?”

  “I’m not falling for any traps. All I can say is Willie has done well for himself. And he says you’re a great cook, too.”

  “My mother taught me to cook when I was a kid. I’m not as good a cook as she was, but I have to say I’m pretty da—er—dang good.”

  Willie herded everyone into the dining room. We all crowded around the table, and then Willie said a prayer before the kids dug in. Meat loaf, fresh green beans, mashed potatoes with gravy, and fresh corn. Soon, I was stuffed. The children were very respectful and spoke very little while the adults talked. I soon realized they were worn out from playing outside. When they finished their meals, Beth sent them to get ready for bed.

  “They’ll be back down for a check-over, and then they’ll hit the hay. We can talk once they’re down.” In just a few minutes, the boys, whom I had learned were thirteen, ten, and five, raced back into the room.

  Each of them walked up to Willie and then smiled a big smile. He bent forward and visually inspected their teeth, gave them a nod of approval, and then one by one, they went upstairs to their beds. The girl was twelve. She came last, and after her inspection, she was off, as well.

  Willie looked over at me. For a moment, I thought I would need to bear my teeth for inspection. Willie smiled with pride, “Ronald Reagan said ‘Trust, but verify.’”

  He motioned me to a chair in his family room. I sat down and got comfortable and he sat in the chair across from me. Willie still had on his uniform pants, but had put on a comfortable looking T-shirt and bed slippers. “What did you think of our DA?”

  “He’s a character, that’s for sure. He gave me copies of the county audits for the last three years.” I laid out what I had found, which didn’t seem to amount to much as I explained it. When I had finished, I asked him what he thought of the Sheriff.

  “Probably the same thing you think of him. He’s a crook, and has more money to show than he should have for his salary. He helps me out when I need it, but keeps me at arm’s length. The Sheriff up here in Fannin County is a retired trooper, and he and I have worked together for years. I don’t have this ‘outsider’ relationship anywhere else in my territory.”

  “Yeah, I met him today. Let’s just say, he didn’t roll out the red carpet for me. I got the feeling he was trying to intimidate me. He tried to get into my space.”

  “Sure. He’s a big man, and he uses that to his advantage. I figure he was just trying to test the waters with you. See if you backed down or bowed up. There are rumors he has dumped some problems of his in the woods, but that stuff may be just to keep the punks around here afraid of him.”

  I nodded. “He sent a couple of Deputies out to track me down after we met.”

  “Average-height and skinny, and tall and fat?”

  I nodded.

  Willie said, “Big Enos and Little Enos.”

  The answer didn’t make any sense to me. My mouth dropped open as I tried to form a question.

  “Smokey and the Bandit,” Willie said. Then I got it.

  “The Sheriff’s do-boys. They do all his dirty work. Run errands and such.” He paused. “Did you see a guy about five-ten, hair medium-gray, and wearing a doorman’s uniform?”

  “Doorman’s uniform?”

  “A joke. Has lots of do-dads all over his uniform. Like a dictator, or a prince, or something.”

  I shook my head. “Nope.”

  “You will. That’s his Chief Deputy. Homer Givens is his name. Born and raised in Gilmer County. He is known to be close to the chief judge of the circuit, and is the Sheriff’s main mouthpiece. He’s also most likely the brains behind the Sheriff’s Office, if there are any.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “If anybody at that place has any real blood on their hands, he would be the one. Givens is a snake in the grass. But they are all going to want to steer clear of you.”

  Willie’s comment put a whole different spin on what could have happened to my old informant. It certainly made me want to meet G
ivens sooner than later. I stood up to leave. “What’s your call sign?” I asked. He wrote the four numbers down on a paper. Then we shook hands and he walked me to the door.

  “We don’t have walkie-talkies or cell phones. But I’m usually close to my truck. The State Patrol can get me on my radio if you need anything.”

  I thanked him for dinner and then shook his hand again. “I appreciate your help. It’s good to have someone you can trust to run this stuff by.”

  “Well, son, we are two blind men trying to cross a busy street. I’m not much help on these things, but I’ll walk beside you and squinch up my eyes when I hear somebody slam on the brakes.”

  I turned and left. Before long, I was unlocking the door to my room. I had left the lights on, but it still looked as empty and unwelcoming as it had when I checked in. I figured a stiff drink would buoy my mood.

  I pulled my pistol from my waist and tossed it on the bed. My computer was perched on the table opposite the bed. The screen was lit up to display a notification of an email marked “Urgent” in my inbox.

  It was from Emma in the GBI Radio Room.

  At 8:13 p.m. EDT, GCIC received an automated request via terminal for Gilmer County Sheriff’s Office for registration information for your undercover tag. Automated reply was the information on your government vehicle with owner information in your Peterson undercover identity. The Inspector has been notified.

  They had to be searching for my government vehicle. This was particularly interesting since I hadn’t been within the borders of Gilmer County since three that afternoon.

  Okay, I thought, I must be poking the right bear. I put ice in a glass and poured vodka. Just enough to help me sleep. Then, I took the moist glass and rolled it on my forehead. The room was cooling, but not cold yet.

  I knew that I was dealing with a rough crowd in that courthouse. And I felt certain that money was being syphoned off by someone in the courthouse. I didn’t want to believe that these characters were capable of murder, but I had a feeling in my gut that they were.

  After a couple of seconds, I finished the drink in one large gulp. I took a long look around the room and wondered what I had gotten into. I was always aware that individual cops could be bent, even completely crooked, but I had walked into a kind of twilight zone, stepped back in time a hundred years. I didn’t think the vodka was going to blunt the feeling in the pit of my stomach, so I mixed a second drink and sipped it. The third drink was just for fun.

  I finished the glass and laid on the bed in my clothes. The dusty ceiling fan hung over me like the dread I felt, and closing my eyes didn’t really change things.

  I undressed on autopilot then threw back the covers on the bed and climbed in. But sleep wouldn’t come easily.

  CHAPTER 5

  DIVING INTO THE SHALLOW END

  When I got up the next morning, I realized I had tossed and turned most of the night. Peeking out the motel room window, I half expected to see a Gilmer County patrol car parked outside. Not seeing one helped to improve my mood. The sun was bright and the light seemed to clean the room. I started my morning with coffee from the in-room maker then sat down at the laptop to compose an email to headquarters.

  Per HQRR, my undercover tag was queried by Gilmer SO at about 8:00 p.m., last night. Request off-line search of all GCIC queries by Gilmer SO for the last twenty-four hours. I deem it important to know if this was a random search or if they have identified and targeted my vehicle.

  Once I finished typing it up, I sent it to the GBI Intelligence Section.

  When an Agent’s tag was submitted to the Revenue Department’s network, the Bureau was immediately notified. When an Agent was undercover, or working a public corruption case, this might be the difference between surviving and not.

  The benefit of emails was you could fire and forget. I got that matter off my plate, and then I went through the process of getting dressed. I decided today was the rare day I would dress down. I figured it would be easier to slip in and out of the courthouse without the coat and tie on.

  I was taking my time getting dressed, trying to decide what my options were and the best way to approach the investigation. As I was getting ready to walk out of the room, my computer dinged. The sound of an incoming email reminded me I needed to put it up and lock it in my car. I looked to see what the alert was and saw an email from one of the intelligence analysts.

  Results of off-line search. Twenty-two license plates queried in the period around the time yours was checked. Nothing further. Complete inquiry is attached.

  Now, I was intrigued. I opened up the attached file. I ran down the list of names that were checked, but none of them meant anything to me. Most of them were cars that were from out of the area. There didn’t seem to be rhyme or reason. Most of the checks were on cars registered by men, but not all.

  After I had looked at the list every way I could think of, I decided to bring it with me. I figured I would look over the square and see if any of them were parked in downtown Ellijay when I got there. I took my notepad and wrote out a copy of the list. Once I was finished, I put the computer in its bag, made sure I hadn’t left anything out, and walked to my truck.

  There weren’t many vehicles left in the parking lot when I left my room. I glanced around to see if anyone was sitting in a car. Scanning the parking lot, I didn’t see anyone who might be watching me.

  I looked all around as I loaded my gear in the truck. Something had caused me to pause. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, so I stood in the open door of the Expedition, trying to let the problem surface. That’s when I took another look at the license plate on the car beside me. It was on the list. I looked around at the other cars still in the lot. I checked the list and found they were all on it. Someone had ridden through the motel parking lot and ran all the tags.

  At first, I was concerned they knew where I was staying. Then, I remembered I had chosen the motel at random. I thought about it and realized they probably had a relationship with the motels in their home county. Most likely, the Deputies went to the motels in Ellijay and got their guest list. They had been afraid to show their hand outside their home county. Again, this was valuable information to have. They were fearless in their home county, but they were still careful once they crossed into someone else’s jurisdiction. A jurisdiction where cops played by the rules.

  Nothing so far had made me think these folks were criminal masterminds, but it was certain they were worried about me being in town. I wondered if the Sheriff’s Office ever did any actual police work.

  When I got in my ride, I made sure to circle the area as I left the motel. I turned south and headed back to Ellijay.

  I got onto the parkway and soon I was back in Gilmer County. I made sure my police radio was scanning the local police channels and turned the volume up. I was looking for cars parked near the highway, but nothing had caught my attention. I pulled off to the side of the road and got a little way off the pavement. I always kept extra license plates in my car just in case. I pulled out a Tennessee plate that had been provided to me by the TBI during an undercover assignment. In a matter of moments, I had a new license plate on my truck and then I continued my journey.

  When I got into town, I chose a parking spot away from the courthouse. I took an around-about way to the courthouse and headed to the District Attorney’s Office. The young Secretary was back at the front desk. “Is Mr. Mason in?” I asked.

  “No, he’s in court in Jasper today. Do you need him, or can I help you?” She looked me up and down as she asked.

  “Would you be able to get a master list of county employees? And maybe how much each of them is paid?” I wasn’t sure how hard that would be to get.

  “Sure,” she said. “All that has to be reported to the State. I can print it off for you while you wait.” She turned to her computer and started punching in information.

  I chose a chair that gave me a view of the door and waited.

  “I don’t think we were introd
uced.” I told her my name.

  “I know who you are. My name is Rose Mitchell. I’ve been working for Jerry for four years. Even before he took office.”

  “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And thanks for your help.”

  She didn’t look up. “Glad to help out. Can I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure,” I said.

  Still without looking up, she said, “Are you married?”

  “Nope,” I replied. She was certainly a very pretty girl, small with curly red hair and flashing blue eyes. “Are you from around here?” I asked to change the subject.

  “I grew up in Jasper. Still live there. My soon-to-be ex is from up here, though. He’s a Deputy Sheriff.”

  “In Gilmer?”

  She grinned. “Uh-huh. Him and his cousin both. Some folks call them Big Enos and Little Enos. I call them dumb and dumber.”

  “Which one is your . . . soon-to-be ex?”

  “The dumber one,” she said with a laugh. Then she added, “He is the fat one. But still the dumber one. Name’s Clifford Mitchell. Graduated high school after playing football for four years. But you can’t prove he’s got a high school diploma by the way he acts.”

  “How long has he worked for the SO?”

  “Just about three years. He was a mechanic and made a good living. But he wanted himself that badge. Got hired and put on the uniform, and since then, he hasn’t seen a woman he didn’t want to screw.”

  “Sad to say, but some men are like that. Show them a little attention and they go off the rails.”

  “I told him if he would stop running around on me and act like somebody, we could patch things up. He told me I was too stupid to understand him.”

  “I’m going to guess that didn’t go over well.”

  “I told him that he was just a hard dick hung on a moron. Then, I tossed all his shit out in the yard and told him to lay up with one of those bitches he was chasing.”

  “Does he cause you any trouble?” I asked.

  “No, his parents won’t let him. My kids are their only grandchildren. They’d cut his nuts off if they thought he was doing anything that might harm my kids. I have them babysit when I have something to do at night. They love to keep the kids.”