“I’m sure he knows that already, Andrew…but, the answer to your question is…yes; provided, of course, that the earthly being is a true believer. They must believe, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Heaven is real. If they believe that, then, yes…if they want…and if their heavenly family wants to…then they are able to communicate via dreams. It cannot happen too frequently, however, and they cannot just pop in to say hello or have a good day. There must be an emotional need for the souls to appear to their loved ones in a dream. However, with that being said, you must always remember that the Bible teaches that spiritual guidance should be sought from God alone, through Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. He has provided everything we need for this life in his Word.”
“Oh…okay, then,” Andrew mumbled. He looked more confused than ever, but he didn’t want to take up any more of Martin’s time. “I know that Amos is okay, for now…so I probably won’t be seeing him in no dream anytime soon. Okay…I’m gonna go now, Mr. Martin…I want to show Boomer around a little…or maybe let him show me around. I’m not really sure which one of us got here first.”
“Time is irrelevant in Heaven, Andrew…so never fear that you are taking up too much of my time. I hope you and Boomer have a glorious day!”
Boomer barked happily and strutted off. He turned to look at Andrew, who was still standing beside Martin. “Hey, you…Andrew! You coming or not? We passed a cool spring that I want to go play in!”
Andrew’s mouth dropped open and he stared, dumbfounded at Martin. “Did…did…you hear that, Mr. Martin? Did you hear? Boomer talked to me…I actually heard him…did you hear him? Of course, you heard him…oh, my goodness, this is wonderful…just wonderful…” He ran to catch up with the energetic pup. “I’ll see you later, Mr. Martin!”
Martin watched the happy duo running off into the distance. He sighed and closed his eyes. “Silly, silly humans…where is it written that only angels can speak to the animals…”
“But as it is written: Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” 1 Corinthians 2:9 (NKJV)
22. Tyler Meets the Inspectors
It was shortly after five o’clock when Tyler left the Heavenly Grille with Spartacus. He had shared a quick meal with Amanda, while Spartacus played in the back yard with Buster and Doug. He had managed to persuade Amanda that her presence might be more of a hindrance than a help if she went with him to his scheduled rendezvous with the inspectors; that had not been an easy feat because she was one stubborn female.
Tyler pulled into the entrance to the Abbott ranch at five-thirty and was glad to see that the foreman and crew were still out and about. His intention had been to throw on a quick change of clothes and stash Spartacus in one of the pens until he could discuss his “finding” with Little John or Clint Meacham.
Tyler parked his truck in front of the crew’s bunk house. Spartacus jumped out just before the truck door closed shut. Tyler looked around nervously and tried to get him back inside the truck, but Spartacus obviously had different plans. He announced his return to the Abbott farm by barking loudly and profusely.
Little John opened the front door to the main house and stepped outside. A partially-clothed woman stood behind him with her arms wrapped around his bare waist. Little John squinted his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing. “Well…I’ll be damned…”
“Come back inside, lover…” the woman cooed. “We still have some time left…”
Little John looked back at her with a cold and menacing glare.
The woman released her hold on him and backed away. “Fine…but you still gotta pay for the full two hours…” She retreated back inside the house.
Little John closed the door and began walking toward the bunk house.
Spartacus finally stopped his incessant barking when he saw Little John. “I wonder if it’s too late to change my mind.” He offered a soft whimper and moved to stand behind Tyler.
Little John walked toward them and Tyler exhaled deeply. He couldn’t help but notice the granite six-pack that Little John sported; the man looked like he was sculpted from stone. He removed his Atlanta Braves cap and ran his fingers over his head. “So much for hiding Spartacus away…” he thought. He felt Spartacus trembling against his leg, and heard his slight whimpering. He took a deep breath and plunged into his concocted spiel. “I…uh…I just had a feeling that maybe I missed something in those woods back in Monticello, so I went back today for a final look. I…uh…found him in someone’s fenced back yard. It looks like they nursed him back to health. Nobody was home, so…”
Little John was within two feet of them when he stopped and looked at the cowering dog. “It’s him, alright… Spartacus…hard to believe that’s the same animal that took off from here Friday night, though.” He saw the dog trembling and grunted, “From the looks of him, he’s still a loser, too…he’s healed, but he sure doesn’t look like he has any fight left in him.” He walked around Tyler for a closer look at Spartacus. The scars were still there, but all the open wounds were completely healed. “Unbelievable…” he mused. He walked back to face Tyler and said, “Get him settled. He’s probably useless as a fighter, but there are a couple of new champions from North and South Carolina that I might be able to pit him against. If I could pit him against Czar, I would, but now that I own Czar, that’s not an option. I’ll just make sure I don’t bet on the wrong dog this time. If he manages to live through the fight, I want him used as bait for training the big black one you just brought in. I need to come up with a name for that one. I’m thinking of using him in the finale fight; he’s an unknown, and people will probably place their bets on his opponent, but I have a feeling Big Black will surprise us all.”
It took all the restraint Tyler could muster not to punch the smirk off Little John’s chiseled face. “I’ll get Spartacus settled in…”
One of the large dump trucks rolled into the drive-way just then. Little John nodded toward it and said. “Never mind…someone else can take care of that. Turn Spartacus over to one of them and then come inside. I have a job I want you to take care of tonight…”
“Tonight?” Tyler stumbled, thinking feverishly of an excuse to get out of whatever Little John had in mind. He had to meet the inspectors tonight. “But…I’ve already made plans…”
“Change them,” Little John ordered. “You’ve got 15 minutes…I’ll leave the front door unlocked for you.”
_____
Doug and Amanda remained in the back yard after Tyler had left to return to Thomasville. It was almost six o’clock and Amanda grew more restless with every minute that ticked by.
“I don’t see why I couldn’t go with Tyler to meet those inspectors tonight. I mean…what harm would that do? He just doesn’t realize how much help I could be to him; he doesn’t need to be in this by himself. From everything I’ve learned about that monster that he works for, it’s not safe for him to be on that ranch.”
Buster enjoyed the last few sun rays of the day and spent his time profitably, by chasing a lone butterfly. “Oh, boy, I almost had him that time, but…geez…what do I do with him if I actually catch him?” Buster stopped chasing the butterfly and shook his head. The butterfly had landed on a large rock, and Buster crawled on his belly to get a closer look. He finally nudged the butterfly with his wet nose. “Naw…you need to fly away, little friend…I don’t want to hurt you by playing too rough. Shoo…go on now…fly away…” He watched the butterfly lift up from the rock and fly off into the wood line. Buster sighed, turned, and walked toward his beautiful owner.
Doug was sympathetic, but firm. “He has your best interest at heart, Amanda. It’s important for him to know that you are safe. Quite frankly…I have to agree with him on this. Even though you’re a cop and trained to handle yourself…well, I don’t think it’s safe for you to get too involved with busting up that dog-fighting ring. Besides…you might even be a dangerous distraction for Tyler.
”
The look on Amanda’s face grew indignant. “Really, Doug? My parents came to me in a dream, remember? They pretty much gave me the green light to come here and get involved with this adventure!”
Doug scratched his head and tried to suppress a grin. “That is true, yes. I think they felt it was important that you be here for all of this, but…maybe…your involvement was meant to be more of a supportive role for Tyler…”
“Whoa! Stop right there, big fella!” Amanda stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “Do you honestly think they intended for me to stay on the sidelines and play the helpless female by offering encouragement for whatever Tyler has gotten himself mixed up in? Really! Me…the helpless female?”
Doug laughed out loud. “Okay, okay! I admit it…that’s not a natural role for you, but, I don’t think you fully realize how barbaric Little John Abbott and his crew are.”
“Hellooooo…I am a cop!” Amanda’s stance was indignant.
“But…let’s face it, Amanda…you’re still a rookie. There’s a television series on now about rookie cops…it’s really good in case you haven’t seen it yet…and, there are all types of very bad people out there, most of whom you haven’t yet had to handle…Little John Abbott is a tyrannical mad man. Did you know that forty-eight percent of all Americans between the ages of 15 to 54 experience a psychological disorder during their life time? Trust me on this…Abbott is high on that list. These kinds of people project themselves into believing they are king of the mountain, they have serious control issues, and a total lack of respect for other human beings. People like Abbott have become more willing to kill because of desensitization, conditioning, and denial. No…I have to agree with Tyler on this one. I think you should take a step back and monitor things from the café, rather than being front and center with Tyler.”
A sharp reply slithered to the tip of her tongue, but Amanda managed to keep it to herself; instead, she pursed her lips together, nodded, picked up Buster, and marched up the stairs to her room.
Doug watched her climb the stairs and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He waited until Amanda slammed her door shut and assumed she was in for the night. “Well…I can see how well that went over…”
_____
Little John had ordered Tyler to follow him to the cabin by the burning pit. Tyler kept looking at his watch. It was almost six-thirty. If he hurried, he might still be able to make his meeting with the inspectors, and still take care of Little John’s errand.
Little John met Tyler outside the cabin and handed him the key to the cabin’s padlock. “Go ahead. Open it.”
Tyler preferred not to have Little John at his back, but he took the offered key and turned it in the padlock. Dusk was approaching and shadows lined the porch to the small cabin. Tyler opened the door and took a few minutes to adjust his eyesight to the darkness within the cabin.
The door slammed closed behind him and he glanced back at Little John, whose huge silhouette blocked the cabin’s door. He was fairly certain that Abbott did not know why Tyler was really working for him, but, that didn’t do anything to curb the sinking feeling that Abbott had brought him here to confront and, possibly, kill him. “Why did you bring me here, Boss?” Something didn’t feel right, and Tyler felt a layer of sweat beading up across his back and under his arms.
Little John didn’t say anything for a long minute. He was about to test Tyler to see if he could be trusted; he still had serious doubts about the young man, but he needed to know for sure whether or not the doubts were warranted. He took out a match and lit the kerosene lantern he had left hanging on a nail. “Over there…on the floor…”
Tyler turned to look in the direction Abbott had indicated. It took a few moments before he was able to make out the two dark lumps that appeared to be sitting on the floor, and leaning against the back wall. Tyler moved forward for a closer inspection. It only took a few seconds to determine that the two lumps were human beings. He only hoped they were living human beings, but the closer he got to them, the less hope he had for that being true. He was within a foot of them when he squatted down to look at their battered faces. An eyelid opened on one of the forms and startled Tyler so much that he fell backwards. He jumped up immediately and walked backwards toward Little John. “Who are they?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the two men huddled together on the floor. “Why are they here? What have you done to them?”
Little John had watched closely to see if any recognition registered between Tyler and the two men. He saw nothing to indicate that these three men knew one another. “They’re trespassers…said they were on the property to get a closer look at the dogs…to give them an advantage when they placed their bets…” Little John walked forward and kicked Ross in his already-bruised ribs. He smiled when Ross groaned and inhaled sharply. “What do you think we should do with these trespassers, Tyler?”
Tim managed to keep his face expressionless, but his entire body tensed when he heard Tyler’s name mentioned. It only took him a few seconds to see the resemblance between Tyler and B.B. Foster. He was thankful that he and Ross had never met Tyler in person; otherwise, he knew, without a doubt, that Little John Abbott would have been able to sense a connection between them. He shifted his position to keep Ross from tumbling over on his side. “We said we were sorry about trespassing on your land…please, mister…you need to let us go…my cousin needs medical help…”
Tyler was speechless. He turned around and walked quickly back outside. It was important that he keep his anger under control. He didn’t know who those two men were, but he did know that no human being deserved to be treated the way they were being treated…and for what…trespassing?
Little John followed Tyler outside and secured the padlock once again. He lit a blunt and blew the smoke in Tyler’s face. “Clint was supposed to go over all this with you, but you’ve been missing most of the day. He hid their vehicle in the woods behind the cabin. I want you to drive it back to town, find out where they’re staying, and stash the car somewhere…it doesn’t really matter where you leave it. Make sure you wipe it down good; I don’t want any prints leading back to anyone on this ranch. Find out all you can about these two cousins…I want to know who they really are. Your job, Jones, is to give me a reason not to kill them for trespassing on my land. Personally, I don’t believe anything about their story, but I am willing to reserve judgment on them until you get back. When you’re finished, you can use our dump truck to get back here; it’s parked out front of Smitty’s Garage, at the Shell station.” Little John reached in his pocket and retrieved a key. He grabbed Tyler’s hand, slapped the key onto his open palm, and said, “You’ve got twenty-four hours, boy, to find out the truth about these two. You might say that their lives depend on what you find out. Report to me…and only me…when you get back. You’ve got until seven o’clock tomorrow night, Jones. Get going…”
23. Amanda Doesn’t Listen
Amanda kept watch from the small window in her apartment that faced the back of the café property. She waited until Doug went back inside the café, before stuffing a change of clothes and a few puppy snacks into a small duffel bag. “I can’t leave you here by yourself, Buster, so you’re gonna have to come with me.” She changed into a pair of black jeans and a black tee-shirt, tied her long hair into a loose ponytail, and slapped her Tampa Rays ball cap on her head. She turned on the lamp beside her bed, grabbed her shoulder bag, and whistled softly. “Okay, come on, fella…we’re taking a ride to Thomasville…”
_____
Tyler drove the cousins’ rented vehicle past the police station. He fought with his conscience, repeatedly, about pulling in and telling the police about the two men locked away in the small cabin on the Abbott ranch. He circled the block and parked in front of the police station. It would be so easy to tell them what was going on at the ranch, what his part in all of it was, what was coming down in the next few days…it would be so easy to tell them everything, but…telling them might also jeopa
rdize any chance the higher authorities might have in making the dog-fighting charges stick. He, also, could not be sure of how many of the local police were in Little John’s back pocket; if he confided to the wrong officer, it could blow the entire operation for the authorities.
He shook his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He wondered what advice his father might give him; he had tried calling B.B. Foster on his way into town, but his call had gone straight to his father’s voice mail. He had twenty-four hours to come up with something that would convince Little John that the cousins were harmless; otherwise, he knew that Little John would not hesitate to kill the two men. Tyler didn’t want to leave this type of information in a voice mail message; he would try his father again later on, after he had more information about the situation. He looked at his watch; it was a little after seven and he was late for his rendezvous with the two investigators. He was supposed to meet them at their hotel; they told him they were staying at the Econo Lodge off Highway 19 South, in room 109.
Tyler took a last look at the police station before pulling out into the slow, oncoming traffic. “I’m going to keep that meeting,” he spoke to his reflection in the rear-view mirror. He figured he would have plenty of time after the meeting to hit a few bars and find out what he could about the cousins. Thomasville was a relatively small town, with a population around 20,000, so Tyler felt confident he would be able to find out something about the two battered strangers. He would make something up, if he had to…anything to keep Little John from killing them.
He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the older-model Trooper that drove slowly by him just before he pulled out into traffic.
The driver of the Trooper, however, recognized Tyler immediately, pulled off to the side of the road until he passed, and then quickly pulled back in behind him. “Tyler Jones…” Amanda whispered while she reached over and patted Buster, who sat quietly in the passenger seat, and chewed on a large dog biscuit. “Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be, Buster…figured I’d have to drive around for a couple of hours before I spotted his truck. Good thing I went past him when I did, though…cause, he’s not driving his truck…”
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