“No. It’s a gift from Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson.”
Her face took on a puzzled look.
She looked to Cody, who just shrugged.
Butch reached into the box and took out a Smith and Wesson Model 1911 .45 caliber handgun.
“Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson wanted you to have this.”
She took the weapon and placed it by her side under the bed sheet.
“Is there one in the chamber?”
“Yep.”
“And I need it why, exactly?”
“You and I both know that the explosion was no accident. To my knowledge, Russell had no enemies. Rusty certainly didn’t. That means in all probability, you were their primary target.”
“I thought the same thing. I know my mouth and hard head have rubbed some people the wrong way over the years. But I didn’t think I pissed somebody off bad enough to make them want to kill me.”
Tears formed in her eyes.
“And it breaks my heart that somebody’s hatred for me would result in the deaths of my husband and young son. Neither of them ever hurt anybody. Why didn’t they just take me and leave Russell and Rusty alone?”
Butch wrapped his arms around his daughter.
“Oh, honey, you didn’t cause this and you’re not responsible for it. As for why, I’m scratching my head too. There’s obviously more to the story, and the truth will eventually come out. And the guilty will eventually pay. We’ll make damn sure of that.”
“And you think they’ll come after me here?”
“I don’t know. I hope not. And I hope that if they do, they’ll see that your friends are here around the clock to keep you company. Maybe the fact that there are witnesses present will keep them from trying anything.”
Red suddenly grew alarmed.
“Or, they could come in with guns blazing, and could shoot the witnesses too.”
She looked directly at Cody.
“Cody, you’ve got to leave. And you’ve got to get word to the others that they have to stop coming. It could be dangerous for them.”
She turned back to Butch.
“Dad, two of the people I love most in the world got killed instead of me. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt too.”
“Honey, like I said, you didn’t cause this thing, and you’re in no way responsible for it. Those who were responsible will pay, but in the meantime we have to take precautions to keep you safe.”
He reached back into the box and took out one of the Motorola walkie talkies he’d gotten from Simms.
“I’m going to leave this one with you. I’ll have the other one with me at all times. They have a range of about five miles, and that’s plenty. You can reach me day or night, any time. When I sleep I’ll max out the volume and put it right next to my ear.”
“Dad, duh… it’s electronic. It won’t work.”
Butch turned both of the walkies on and keyed the microphone on one of them. It let out an audible burst of static on the second one.
Red’s jaw dropped.
“But how did you…”
“Crazy Eddie. Turns out he was smarter than all of us.”
He took one of the walkies and clipped it to Red’s bed pillow. Then he turned to Cody.
“Pass the word to the others. Whenever Red is asleep, have this in your hand. At the first sign of trouble, do two things. First, wake Red up. She’s an expert with a .45. Probably one of the best shots in the county. And she works well under stress. The second thing I want you to do is call me, so I can get my happy little ass over here and help. Understand?”
Cody nodded.
“I also want to keep the clinic door locked. It’s been open since we brought you here, and we’re darned lucky they haven’t made a move on you yet. That’s my fault, I shouldn’t have waited so long to protect you.
“From now on, the door stays locked. Don’t let anybody in unless you know who it is, and make sure everybody gets a duress code.”
“A duress code?”
“Yes. Something simple that everybody can remember, to use if they’re under duress. Say, for example, Lilly is coming in to relieve you. But someone grabs her in the street and puts a gun to her back and tells her to get you to open the door.
“If Lilly knocks on the door and you ask who it is, she can say, ‘It’s Lilly. I need to pick up Red’s laundry.’
“When she says she’s picking up Red’s laundry, that’s the duress code. You know there’s a bad guy with her. You can respond by saying, ‘Wait just a minute, Lilly. Red’s changing.’ Then you can call me on the walkie and take cover.”
“Pretty smart, Dad.”
“Hey, I’m not just another pretty face, you know.”
“Yeah, we know.”
“Hey, watch it.”
“Anything else we can do, Mr. Poston?”
“Yes. Keep the curtains closed at all times. And keep the walkie on. It won’t drain much of the batteries when it’s not being used, and I have spare batteries if it gets weak. So keep it turned on and keep it on channel 5.
“As soon as Dr. Munoz says you can move, honey, I’m taking you home. I can protect you more easily there.
“I’ve already talked to Judge Moore. He’s going to formally ask the city council to appoint a new police chief. The first thing he or she will be asked to do will be to investigate the explosion. I don’t care if he questions the whole damn town. Somebody knows who had access to explosives. Somebody knows why someone might have a grudge against you or Russell.
“And somebody knows how somebody had something to gain by killing you or Russell.
“We just have to find out who. And then we’ll have our justice.”
Chapter 56
Butch didn’t know it, but it was about to get a lot harder for justice to prevail in Blanco.
Jim Davenport sat in his den, the morning sun streaming in an east window and providing ample light for him to read a three year old Time magazine. To his right, on a lamp table, sat a steaming cup of coffee he’d just boiled in the fireplace.
There was a knock on the door.
“Honey,” he yelled to his wife. “Are we expecting company?”
“No, dear.”
He got up and shuffled to the door, still wearing his pajamas and house slippers.
He opened the door to find John Savage, dressed in a suit, carrying a hat in one hand and a briefcase in the other.
“Well hello, John. This is an unexpected surprise.”
“Hello, Jim. I wonder if I might have a few minutes of your time.”
“Well, it’s kind of early. I haven’t even had a chance to get dressed yet. But sure. Come on in.”
“Thank you. Is there someplace where we can sit in the light? I’ve got some business to discuss with you.”
“Yes. We can sit in the den.”
Jim yelled up the stairs again.
“Sue, put a robe on and come down here. Mr. Savage from the bank is here to discuss something with us.”
He turned back to Savage and said, “I’ll get you some coffee while we wait for her. Would you like cream or sugar with it?”
“No. Black is fine. Thank you.”
Davenport and Savage knew each other well. They were both members of the Blanco city council, which met twice a month to discuss city business. There used to be seven members.
Two of them were out of town when the world lost power. One was visiting his dying aunt in Iowa. The other had just gotten married and was honeymooning in Florida.
Neither of them would ever be back to Blanco.
Another shot himself and his wife rather than live in a world where the supplies on the Walmart trucks would eventually run out and force them to forage for their food.
That left four members.
Sue Davenport sat on a sofa opposite Savage and made small talk until her husband returned with the coffee.
“Would you like a refill, dear?”
“No thank you, honey. Have a seat so we can stop eating u
p all of Mr. Savage’s time.”
Savage looked at Jim, then at Sue.
“I’ve come to find out what kind of arrangements you’ve made to make your mortgage payments. The first has come and gone, and that officially puts you in the arrears. Do you have any precious metals with which to make your last payment and the late fees?”
Jim was dumbfounded. Sue didn’t say anything, but her mouth dropped open.
“Mr. Savage, as you well know, the world has changed. We just assumed that our mortgage payments would be waived for the time being. Or at least until they can figure out a way to get the lights back on and everything running again.”
“There seem to be a lot of people who’ve made that assumption, Mr. Davenport. But the fact is, while the world may have changed, the business world hasn’t. My bank is still in business, and is still owed what it’s due. The collapse of the dollar merely means we must come up with an alternative form of payment. If you’ll look at item 207 on your mortgage agreement, you’ll see that the bank has a legal right to make such changes.”
“Mr. Savage, this is ridiculous. As our banker, you well know that there is plenty of money in our account to cover several mortgage payments. You also know that my insurance agency is out of business for the foreseeable future and therefore I have no means of making any additional income.”
Savage wasn’t flustered at all. He’d expected Davenport’s argument, almost word for word.
“It’s funny you should mention your account, Mr. Davenport. Since the collapse of the dollar, it is now worthless. I took the liberty of withdrawing your account balance from my vault so I could return it to you.”
He reached into his briefcase and took out a wad of cash before continuing.
“Here it is, sir. Eleven thousand four hundred nine dollars.”
As if to prove a point, he took a nickel and four pennies from his pocket and placed them on the table.
“And nine cents. Please sign the withdrawal slip after you verify the amount.”
The Davenports looked at each other. Sue put her face in her hands, trying not to cry. Jim looked hard at Savage.
“Is this a ploy to seize our land?”
“Oh no, Mr. Davenport. I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that. It’s just a means of collecting what is due the bank. I’m willing to work with you, and will even refinance your loan to lower your payments if you wish. But even if I do that, I can only lower it so much. I will still require at least nine hundred dollars per month, payable from now on in gold, silver, or precious gems.”
“But… we’re not like some of the others.”
Sue’s plea was plaintive, but fell on deaf ears.
“All we have is my jewelry. We have no gold or silver bullion, or old coins. My jewelry is worth a couple of thousand if I sold it to someone else…”
Savage interrupted.
“It’s probably worth less than that, actually. If you present it to the bank as payment, it’ll only be worth its measured weight. In any event, as I said, I’ll work with you. I’ll give you a month or two to find the means and catch up, before I start the foreclosure process.”
The word foreclosure sent a chill up Jim Davenport’s spine. He started to lash out at the hideous man in front of him, but thought better of it.
Savage went on, looking directly at Sue.
“Now then, that’s enough bank business for the day. Mrs. Davenport, if you’d be so kind… I have some city council business I need to discuss with your husband.”
Jim was relieved, in a way, that talk of foreclosures and past due mortgage payments was over, at least for the time being.
He stood up, prompting Savage to do the same.
“Why don’t we do the city business on the front porch? It’s gotten rather stuffy in here.”
The men left Sue Davenport behind on the couch, softly weeping.
When they were alone, Jim decided he’d held back long enough.
“Savage, I knew you were ruthless. I just never knew how low you would go. Of all the shameless things you could have pulled…”
Savage interrupted him.
“Now, now, Jim… I think we might be able to come to terms and make this whole foreclosure thing go away once and for all…”
Davenport stopped short.
“I’m listening.”
“When the city council meets again on Thursday morning, Dan Moore will be there to formally request we appoint a new police chief to replace Whitey. I want the job. And I want your vote.”
“Why in the hell would you want to be chief of police? You’re not qualified to hold that position.”
“I’m as qualified as any other person in town. And in case you’ve forgotten, going outside the city to hire a professional law enforcement officer is no longer an option.”
Davenport furtively looked over his shoulder to make sure his wife couldn’t hear what he was about to say.
“And what’s in it for me if I give you my vote?”
“I will give you an amendment to our mortgage agreement, signed by me and notarized. It will state that all mortgage payments will be waived without default, until such time as electric power is restored to the city of Blanco.”
It took Davenport but a hot second to agree to the deal. He held out his hand to shake on it, as deals had been done in Texas for many generations.
With that, Savage bid him adieu and walked down the front porch steps.
He was on his way to Mary Shiver’s house, to discuss bank business with her.
The widow Shiver, by coincidence, was another member of the city council.
Chapter 57
Red was feeling stronger now.
The swelling had gone down in her brain, and as far as Dr. Munoz could tell without the aid of x-rays, her broken skull had started to fuse and was healing well.
He was still worried about blood clots.
“I want you to continue to take the medication for the next thirty days,” he told her. “I’d like to keep you on it for sixty, but that’s all the pharmacy had on hand.
“If the headaches come back, send your dad to fetch me immediately.”
The doctor was distracted by a photograph of Red, with a pink rose in her hair, standing next to her horse Bonnie. It was sitting in a frame on the dresser of her old bedroom.
“What a lovely photograph.”
“Thank you. Russell took it. It was the last photograph he ever took of me. That’s dad’s copy. Mine was destroyed in the fire, along with everything else.”
The doctor quickly changed the subject.
“I want you to keep getting out of bed and walking, several times a day. But don’t overdo it. If you start breathing heavily or your legs get weak, return to your bed. And do not walk down those stairs under any circumstances. You might not be able to get back up.”
Butch, over the doctor’s shoulder, added his two cents.
“You listen to him, honey. It took every bit of strength Cody and I had just to carry you up here.”
The doctor noticed several stick figures on a far wall, drawn many years before in red crayon.
“Was this your childhood room?”
“Yes. That’s my artwork from when I was about five. Dad said he was going to paint over it a dozen times but I threatened to break his arm if he did. I think it adds class to the room.”
Red knew better. It was she who wanted to paint over the artwork, and Butch who demanded it remain. She winked at him. He winked back. It was moments like this he cherished the most. When he remembered her as a little girl, so full of life and so precious.
The doctor finished his checkup and got up to leave.
He told Butch, “I’ll show myself to the door. Make sure she drinks plenty of water. I want her to stay well hydrated.”
“Okay, Doc. I’ll make sure of it. And thanks for the house call.”
“Don’t mention it.”
As they heard the doctor’s footfalls on the stairs, Butch brushed a strand of
curly red hair from his daughter’s eyes.
“Now I know you’re pig headed and stubborn, because you take after your mom…”
“Uh-huh.”
“…But you need to follow his advice. Take it easy. Baby steps. You have the rest of your life to recover, and there’s no sense in rushing it.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, honey?”
“When I get out of here I think I want to take Bonnie and disappear for a while. Would you be okay with that?”
Butch knew exactly what she meant. Since she was about thirteen, Red would periodically disappear into the woods.
She would take rudimentary gear: a bed roll, a rifle, a handgun and ammunition. Fishing gear and materials to snare small animals.
And her Bible, for when she needed to communicate with her other Father.
It wasn’t that she was anti-social during those times. She just felt a need to get away for a while. To leave her troubles and sorrows behind her, so she could be at one with nature and could get her bearings again.
Butch understood, for he himself was that way. He himself would disappear for days at a time when Red was young, always leaving behind a note, saying he had to “get his monkeys lined up again.”
It was a curious phrase, and they’d laughed about it many times over the years.
But those monkeys still became misaligned occasionally, for both of them.
And they occasionally felt a need to get away.
“Any idea how long you’ll be gone?”
“I don’t know. Just long enough to stop hating the world. And maybe long enough to understand why Russell and Rusty had to die.”
“A little bit of hate isn’t necessarily a bad thing, honey, as long as it’s channeled in the right direction. We’ll get these guys, if it takes the rest of my life. And some day, mark my words, you’ll see them pay.”
“That won’t bring back my husband and my son.”
“I know. But when we put them away or hang them in the town square it’ll guarantee they can’t harm anyone else in the same manner. And that might make your loss a little easier to deal with.”
“I don’t think anything will ever make it easier. But I will admit, I’ve had dreams of John Savage standing on a stool in the square along with a couple of other hooded jackasses.
Red: The Adventure Begins Page 17