*****
Back out on Beeler Road, Crockett checked the GPS to find out where the hell he was then phoned Smoot.
“How ya doing?” Dale asked.
“Pretty good. Charlie’s got balls.”
“Yeah. Good kid. What do you need?”
“I need somebody to transport and process two prisoners, and I need at least one more to help Charlie go through a meth lab. He’s lead, by the way.”
“Okay.”
“I also need you to wake up a judge or whatever and secure a warrant to shake down the house. It needs to be broad. Hard telling what we’ll find in there. Another guy or two would help with that a lot.”
“Hell, I’ll get everybody up.”
Crockett grinned. “That’s the spirit. We’ll make it a party. You bring the chips.”
“Where you gonna be?”
“I’m on the way to the hospital to see Annette Boggs. Arkie’ll shake loose from there as soon as he’s got her statement and come back to the head shed to finish up with his statement and file the complaint. When I can, I’ll come in and type up my statement for Arkie. He’s got the lead on the investigation as far as the rape and battery are concerned.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“I’ll be around. Let the kids get the credit and the press, if there is any. Much as the Lone Ranger, I’ll just fade away.”
“You gonna leave a silver bullet?”
“In my case, a travel sized bottle of Pepto.”
“Good work, Crockett.”
“Hell, it just fell into my lap.”
“Good work, Crockett.”
“Hi-ho Silver,” Crockett said, and disconnected.
CHAPTER FIVE
She was a handsome woman, about forty, with short chestnut hair, rimless glasses, skin the color of walnut, little makeup, and a solid presence. On her white lab coat was a nametag that read, “Dr. Brooks.” Crockett caught up with her in a hallway outside the ER.
“Excuse me,” he said. She turned to face him.
“How may I help you?” she asked. Her voice was slightly darker than her skin. Her eyes appraised him in one sweep.
“My name’s Crockett, Doctor. I am an official representative of the Hart County constabulary.”
A tiny smile flickered across her lips, then disappeared. “You’re here about the Boggs woman?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I sent a copy of my assessment and report with the young policeman that was here.”
“I know that. I’ll read it later. How is Annette?”
She shifted her weight and looked at him.
“The report not good enough for you?”
“I’m sure it’s quite thorough,” Crockett replied. “But I much prefer getting at least some of my information face to face. Reports are for lawyers and judges. I deal in people.”
“You drink coffee, Officer Crockett?”
“Yes, I do, Doctor Brooks. Please call me Crockett. Titles bug me.”
“Follow me, Crockett. My name’s Estelle.”
*****
The doctor’s lounge was empty, the coffee was stale, and the table had crumbs on it.
“She’s had sex recently,” Estelle said. “We’ve got the rape kit. Judging by her trauma, I’d assume she was raped. She has a cracked collarbone, a missing tooth, four stitches inside her upper lip, a pretty good mouse around her eye with no significant damage to the orbit, two broken ribs but no interior damage, a slight concussion, some relatively shallow lacerations to the bottoms of both feet, and we removed the roots of a broken tooth. She’s lucid and, with the exception of what we’ve given her for pain, appears to be drug free.”
“Okay,” Crockett replied. “Now, how is she?”
Estelle smiled. “She’s confused and frightened. Hospitals and strange people poking at you can be quite intimidating.”
“Don’t I know it,” Crockett said.
“She’s also angry. Of course she’s angry with who did this to her, but she’s also angry with herself. She told me two or three times that she wasn’t ever going back to wherever this happened. She also asked about you.”
“Me?”
“You fit the description. ‘That big ol’ cop that was nice to me,’ seems to apply.”
Crockett grinned. “I find compassionate savior a little wordy, don’t you?”
The doctor laughed. “She’ll be here until tomorrow afternoon just to be safe. Then out she goes. She have any place to stay?”
‘I’ll check into it.”
“I assume insurance or money for payment is not forthcoming.”
“Probably not.”
“Poor woman. You get the guy?”
“Guys. Yes, I did.”
“Good,” she said, standing up. “She’s in room 217. I’ve gotta go. It’s been a pleasure. I don’t often get to meet big ol’ cops that are nice.” She stuck out a hand. Crockett took it.
“A healer with a heart. Thanks, Doc. The pleasure was mine.”
“Estelle, Crockett,” she said, breezing toward the door. “Always Estelle.”
Crockett smiled and took out his pac-set. “Hart-two to Hart-five.”
“Hart-five,” Charlie said. The signal was scratchy. “Go ahead.”
“You in the house yet, Hart-five?”
“Ten-four on the house.”
“Look around for some women’s clothing. Shoes, socks, jeans, shirt, jacket, stuff like that.”
“Will do, Two.”
“Thanks, Charlie. Just bring what you find when you come in. See me. Two out.”
*****
Crockett found room 217 with little trouble. It was a double, but the first bed was empty. Annette lay, slightly elevated, in the second bed, staring blankly at a TV that displayed a re-run of Golden Girls. The volume was very low. When she saw him, she tried to smile around swollen lips. Her left arm was in a sling. Crockett patted her on the right shoulder.
“Hey, kiddo. Wanna go to a movie.”
Instantly, she began to quietly cry. He handed her some tissues, took a chair, and waited for it to be over.
When she settled down a bit, she licked her lips and spoke. “I’m sorry ’bout bawlin’. I been doin’ that ever now an’ then since I come up here.”
“You’re entitled. Just try not to think about the food. You’ll start crying again.”
Her laugh hurt, but she didn’t seem to mind. “I wanna thank you agin for helpin’ me like ya done.”
“Appreciated, but not necessary, Annette.”
“You know my name, but I don’t know what to call you.”
“Call me Crockett.”
“That all?”
“Yep. Just Crockett. Can I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Go ahead on. I’ll answer everything I can.”
“You have any money?”
“Oh Lord. I bet I owe this place thousands a dollars. Nossir. I ain’t got a dime.”
“Do you have a place to stay when you get outa here?”
“No. I ain’t been no place but out there on Peters Road for five years.”
“Okay. Don’t worry about the hospital bill. The county has funds for that. Don’t worry about a place to stay, either. It’s all under control.”
“That’s real good, but I still ain’t got no money.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
Crockett smiled. “Annette,” he said, “I’m telling you that you do have some money.”
“I do?”
“You have any family around here?”
“No. The only kin I got is my sister, Nadine. She an’ her husband live down by Berryville. They got three boys.”
“Could you stay there for a while?”
“I ain’t talked to Nadine since before Christmas, but she wanted me to come down there then.”
“I think that would be fine, but we’ll need you to stay around here a little bit until all this mess with Larry and Gary gets square
d away.”
“Yessir, Mister Crockett. Whatever I got to do, I will.”
“Fine. I’m going to leave my number at the nurse’s station. They’ll call me tomorrow when you’re ready to be released. I’ll come and pick you up.”
“Oh, Lord. I ain’t got no clothes to wear.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I do?”
“Yep,” Crockett replied, getting to his feet. “I’ll bring them with me tomorrow. You get some rest.”
“How come yer doin’ all this for me?”
Crockett smiled. “I’m not,” he said. “I’m doing it for me.”
*****
He returned to Hartrick about three a.m. and went to the quiet of the police department. On the desk chair in Dale’s old office was a vest. Attached to that body armor was a note from Dale advising him to “wear this damn thing or Satin will kick my ass.” Two hours later, his three-page, single-spaced statement met with his final approval, and he departed for the Sheriff’s Department. The joint was jumpin’.
Crockett was a little surprised to find himself treated with a certain amount of deference by his fellow officers. He gave copies of his statement to those that needed them, read the statements that had been completed by Charlie and Arky, looked over the attendant paperwork, dispensed compliments where deserved, tossed two bags of clothes and two or three pairs of shoes into the rear seat of his truck, and walked to the café for dinner or breakfast or whatever the hell it was. The sun was rising when Dale ambled in and found him, elbow deep in bacon and eggs, in the customary rear booth.
“Mornin’, Crockett.”
“Already?”
Smoot smiled. “Good work last night. Charlie thinks your shit don’t stink.”
“Charlie’s a good kid. Got guts. Scared to death and did it anyway. I read his statement. Not bad.”
“How’s the girl?”
“Beat to hell and afraid of her own shadow. She’ll get through it. I got her some money and a place to stay, I think. At least until all this gets squared away.”
“You got her some money?”
“Yeah. While Charlie was watching over our two desperados I found some cash in a drawer. Lifted three thousand dollars for the victim of the beating and rape.”
“You missed about six grand more,” Smoot said.
“I was in a hurry.”
“Uh-huh. Well, damn near six grand is a pretty good recovery. Not like the Boggs boys are entitled to anything. Gain from the crime and all.”
“Pretty cheap reward for rape, too.”
“I hear you touched off a shotgun at the scene.”
“Yeah, I did. Shot Tammy Wynette right in the divorce. Felt good.”
“You fill out an after-action firearms report?”
“Didn’t know I had to.”
“Probably should. Next day or two.”
“My pleasure.”
“You gonna do that kind of thing a lot, you think?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“Charlie’s pretty impressed by it. I figure you did what you thought was necessary. They took two pistols out of the lab, two more and one rifle, three bows, and a shitload of arrows out of the house. Not to mention marijuana, a little coke, and some merchandise that has got to be stolen.
Since when do two guys need three or four computers they don’t use and five televisions they don’t watch?”
“Hording,” Crockett said. “Obviously hording. Those poor boys need help.”
Smoot snorted. “Those poor boys are gonna be fresh fish pretty soon. I doubt if either one a them’ll get out in less than fifteen years.”
“They won’t if Annette has anything to say about it.”
“Okay,” Dale said, getting to his feet. “Justified discharge of a firearm, almost six thousand dollars recovered from a crime scene, a rape and assault incident, and the manufacture of a controlled substance, possession of controlled substances, all resulting in the arrest of two suspects. Not a bad night’s work. Especially on your first night.”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
“Finish up, go home, get some rest, and don’t bother coming in tonight if you don’t feel like it.”
“I still gotta pick the Boggs woman up at the hospital this afternoon and get her some place to stay.”
“Of course you do,” Dale said, and walked away.
Crockett checked his watch and called home.
“Good morning, sweet Satin.”
“Oh. It’s only you. Why aren’t you home?”
“How’s your compassion today.”
“That would depend on what I’m being compassionate about.”
“How ‘bout a young woman who was beaten and raped last night?”
“Jesus!”
“She has a split lip, a missing tooth, a black eye, a broken collar bone, a couple of broken ribs, some cuts on the bottom of her feet, and a concussion.”
“My God! Where is she?”
“In the hospital right now. She gets out this afternoon. She has no relatives or friends in the area, no place to stay while she heals, and she needs to stay close until after the arraignment and stuff. She’s ready and willing to testify.”
“They know who did it?”
“Yeah. I caught the guys last night. In their meth lab. I have clothes for her, and I’m scheduled to pick her up when she gets released.”
“Are you okay?”
“Not a scratch.”
“Jesus, Crockett, she can stay at my apartment. I’ll get over there, straighten it up, and hang around with her for a few days until she’s back on her feet. She’s welcome to the place until she gets squared away.”
“I knew you’d come through.”
“What’s her name?”
“Annette Boggs.
“Boggs?”
“Yep.”
“As in Boggs that shot Nudge and Dundee while we were on our first date?”
“The very ones. Raped her, kicked the hell out of her, and threw her away in the yard.”
“You tell her everything’s gonna be fine, Crockett. You tell her that. Sonsabitches!”
“I’ll pass it on.”
“Come home. I wanna see you before I go to the apartment.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Crockett said.
*****
As he walked back to the truck, Crockett was approached by Hartrick’s mayor.
“Mayor Underwood,” he said. “Good morning.”
Underwood got right to the point. “I hear you fired a gun last night,” he said. “Is that true?”
Crockett smiled. “Yes, I did. But, it was out in the county not the city. No need to be concerned.” He kept walking. Underwood bounced along beside him.
“One of the men you arrested said you tried to kill him.”
“You interviewing prisoners now, Mister Mayor? Are you a police officer or an attorney?”
“That doesn’t make any difference.”
“Does to me.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Mister Crockett.”
“Yes, I did. You asked me if it was true that I fired a gun last night. I told you I did, in fact, fire a gun. A shotgun, more specifically. A twelve gauge, to be exact.”
“I asked you if you tried to shoot a man last night.”
“No, you didn’t,” Crockett replied, and kept on walking.
Underwood jumped in front of him. “Goddammit! You stop and talk to me when I’m talking to you.”
Crockett smiled. “Okay,” he said, grinding to a halt. “What exactly do you want to know?”
“I want to know if you attempted to shoot and kill one of the men you arrested last night.”
Crockett looked at the man for a moment. “No,” he said, and resumed his walk.
Underwood wouldn’t give up. Again he darted in front of Crockett. “No?” he asked.
Again, Crockett stopped. “No,” he said. “Simple word, simple answer. No.”
“How do I k
now you’re telling the truth?” Underwood blustered.
Crockett smiled. “Because he’s not dead, Mister Mayor. That would not be the case if I intended to kill him.”
“I don’t think I believe you.”
“Then let me give you something you can believe. You are not a cop. You are not a lawyer. If I ever catch you questioning a suspect in any of my investigations again, I will arrest you for interfering with the investigation. Then I will put you in jail. And if you don’t believe me, you are even more a fool than you appear to be.”
“You can’t threaten me!”
“Sure I can. And here’s something else. If you have any questions about my conduct or performance, you take it up with Sheriff Smoot. I don’t have to talk to you, and I’d really rather not.”
Crockett walked away then; the mayor buffeted by his wake.
God, he felt good.
CHAPTER SIX
The county prosecutor and attorney, Eugene Macklin, a tall, thin, rather cadaverous man, went after the Boggs brothers like a snake after field mice. Their public defender, an inexperienced kid named Cole, did not want the mess to get anywhere near trial. To avoid a plague of locusts and a river red with blood, the brothers rolled over, gave up several names of their best customers and, when the dust cleared, went to the Graybar Hotel under a sentence of fifteen to twenty years each. Parole would be possible after ten years, but nobody thought the boys would last that long. The victim, Annette Boggs, with a shy smile on her face, hope in her heart, and money in her pocket, went down by Berryville to stay with her sister, her brother-in-law, and their three boys.
When all was said and done, the county got the Boggs’ assets, such as they were, eleven other arrests were made because of additional information from the brothers, The Platte County Landmark and other newspapers picked up the events, Hartrick’s Mayor, the Illustrious Marvin Underwood, seemingly unaware that all of the arrests but one occurred in the county, seized every opportunity to declare his city to be tough on crime. Dale Smoot tried to keep a low profile and downplay the events, and Crockett hid in the weeds and waited for it all to run its course.
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