Small Town Justice

by Valerie Hansen

  Another coarse laugh set the hair at the back of her neck prickling and gave her goose bumps on her arms.

  “You, of all people, should know, since you almost burned to death out here,” the man said. “Tell Colton to come alone and to make it snappy. I’m not going to wait all night.”

  “We’re at Otis Bryce’s right now,” Jamie informed him. “The sheriff and police are running all over the place. There’s no way I’ll be able to tell Shane without everybody else finding out.”

  “Then give him this phone. I’ll tell him myself.”

  “Okay. Don’t hang up.”

  She pushed off the side of the parked truck, hoping and praying her trembling legs would support her. Not only was she steadier than she’d imagined she’d be, she was able to break into a jog.

  Passing Harlan without slowing, she plunged through the front door and almost collided with Shane and his stepfather. Otis was being helped to walk and had Useless in his arms as if the two had bonded perfectly.

  Breathless, yet functioning via the rush of adrenaline, Jamie thrust the phone at him. “Here. Take this.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Don’t ask questions. Just take it and listen.”

  The expression on Shane’s face changed from wonder to anger to fright in a matter of moments. He nodded. “Yes. I understand.”

  During a brief pause, Jamie made her decision. When Shane continued with, “The old Henderson place. Yes. I know it,” she was already backing away.

  Fading into the crowd on the porch despite her dog’s whining.

  Edging down the steps.

  Her brother’s freedom was no longer her most important goal. A different kind of task awaited her, one that might cost her more than she’d bargained for. Still, she didn’t doubt she was doing the right thing.

  Jamie felt as if her feet were moving on their own while her heart preceded them. Marsha’s car was blocked in by patrol cars. Some of those were idling and she could easily have taken one, but arriving at her former home in a black-and-white was too dangerous for the hostages.

  No, she reasoned. She had to take a vehicle that the kidnapper would be expecting. Shane’s personal pickup. That was also the only way she could be certain of beating him to the farm in time to trade herself for his family.

  It was right. It was fair. It was her fault an innocent little boy was in danger and her job to see that no harm came to him. Even if she didn’t manage to free Marsha, as well, at least she’d be able to give Shane’s son back to him.

  Sliding behind the wheel, Jamie Lynn had to strain to reach the pedals so she repositioned the seat. The key was in the ignition. She turned it, all the time keeping close watch on the bustle of activity nearer the house.

  The headlights came on automatically and illuminated the scene even more. Shane was handing his cell phone to the sheriff. They both froze. Stared in her direction.

  Time was up. It was now or never. She threw the truck into Reverse, gunned the engine and backed into the street.

  Shane and several officers started running after her. They were going to be too late. They’d use their lights and sirens to try to overtake her but they’d fail.

  She merely prayed and resigned herself as best she could to whatever fate awaited.

  As she sped through the night, Jamie Lynn realized that up until now she had been operating on the premise she would do the same for any child. Now she knew better. This was a sacrifice she was making for people she loved, a special father and son. She’d started this. She needed to finish it.

  Her only real regret was that she might never have a chance to tell them how she felt.

  How very much she cared.

  * * *

  Several times, Jamie was afraid she was losing control of the truck. It was far bigger than the pickup she was used to driving and her haste had caused her to overshoot more than one bend in the road. Thankfully, the ultra alertness brought about by a surge of fight-or-flight brain chemicals was enough to control her body and keep the vehicle on the road despite excessive speed.

  Wheeling in the long dirt driveway of her childhood home, she saw the skeleton of the old house for the first time since the fire. Most of the left side downstairs seemed to have collapsed but the bedrooms on the right still stood, as did the base of the porch.

  This was it. There was no turning back now. Whatever forces were in motion would have to be dealt with. She could do this. She must. The most important little boy in the world was counting on her.

  She killed the engine, then quickly opened the truck door, purposely sitting in the cab under the dome light long enough to be identified. Since the kidnapper was expecting Shane and the late sheriff’s papers, she needed him to see who she was rather than arbitrarily shoot anyone who was a stranger.

  “Assuming I am,” she muttered, raising her hands over her head as soon as she slid out of the pickup. The more she thought about the voice on the phone, the more she felt it matched that of the crooked judge. Adding his reference to being judge and jury, she was convinced this kidnapper would recognize her on sight.

  “It’s me. Jamie Lynn Henderson,” she called toward the dark, forbidding structure.

  The only illumination was what was reflected from the truck’s headlights and a half-moon partially obscured by drifting clouds. Normally, the night didn’t frighten her but this one was different. She’d seen one man die already.

  Don’t think about that, she ordered herself. Think about things that will help. That will make you stronger.

  It wasn’t necessary to cast about for the right incentive. It came to her complete and ran through her mind as if she’d practiced it.

  “‘The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want...’”

  Jamie placed one foot on the bottom step, then the next. “‘He makes me to lie down in green pastures...’”

  She crossed the porch. Approached the open door. Passed through. “‘He leads me beside still waters...’”

  “Stop right there!” The gruff order echoed through what was left of the old house and raised the hackles on the back of her neck.

  All doubt vanished. It was Randall, all right. And he sounded as if Marsha’s assessment of his mental state had been correct. His devious mind had become unbalanced, making him far more dangerous than a rational man would be.

  “I came to negotiate,” Jamie Lynn shouted up the staircase.

  Some might have called the resulting noise laughter. To her, it sounded like the evil cackling of the three hags in her college drama club’s performance of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. There was no humor in it.

  “‘He restores my soul...’” She took two more paces, pausing at the foot of the familiar staircase.

  “I should shoot you where you stand,” the madman yelled.

  A dark shape loomed on the landing above her. “If you do, you’ll be sorry. Don’t you want to know what I’ve discovered? It’s very interesting.”

  “Where are Colton’s papers? Why didn’t you bring them?”

  “Because I don’t have them,” Jamie Lynn replied.

  “Then what good are you to me?”

  That was an excellent question, proving that the judge retained a portion of his capacity to reason, even if he was acting irrationally.

  “Shane and I are...” She hesitated to lie, yet how far from the truth would it be if she referred to a romantic relationship? For her part, there certainly was one. What Shane did or didn’t feel had never been discussed.

  “We’re in love,” Jamie announced. “If you take me, he’s sure to listen and give you whatever you want.”

  “I don’t need you. I’ve got his kid.”

  Jamie’s heart leaped, her pulse pounding. “And his mother?”

  “Yeah. Her, too.”

 
In the ensuing silence she was certain Randall and everyone else could hear her heartbeats. She certainly could. They echoed in her ears and drummed in her temples.

  Finally, the captor called, “Okay, come on upstairs. But no tricks. I’ll shoot the hostages if you try anything.”

  Climbing slowly, her hands raised, Jamie heard the wooden steps creaking under her weight. They had been noisy for as long as she could remember, yet had never felt quite this spongy. Perhaps the fire had undermined them.

  The shadow gave way as she closed the distance. He was close enough for her to attack and perhaps push over the railing, but where was Kyle? What about Marsha? There was no reason to risk her life until she could see them and decide what course of action would be best, yet the urge to leap at him was strong.

  Randall cackled. “I can see you plotting, lady. It’s in your eyes, in the way you move.”

  “You can’t see my eyes. It’s too dark.”

  “Oh?” The beam of a flashlight directed into her face was so bright it took several long seconds for Jamie’s pupils to adjust. When they did, she knew what the kidnapper meant. He was not only armed with a pistol, he was wearing something on his head that looked like pictures she’d seen of night vision goggles.

  She swiped away the tears the light had caused. “How do I know you really have Marsha and Kyle?”

  “Because you talked to her on the phone, you idiot.” The more Randall interacted with her, the more deranged he sounded and the more frightened Jamie Lynn became. Her strongest hope was that she was managing to mask her fear. Since he had accused her of plotting against him, perhaps she was succeeding.

  “We’re over here,” a woman’s voice called.

  “Are you okay?”

  “So far. What are you doing here?”

  “I snuck away from Shane so I could be with you.”

  Marsha’s voice wavered as she said, “What did you hope to accomplish?”

  “I came to trade myself for you and Kyle.”

  Jamie felt the barrel of a gun against her spine and was shoved so hard she stumbled forward. The door slammed behind her, leaving only the faint glow of moonlight. That was enough to make out her fellow captives huddled in the corner farthest from the door. Marsha had shoved Kyle behind her.

  “This used to be my room when I was little,” Jamie said, approaching them and lowering her voice. “Are you tied up?”

  Marsha shook her head. “No. I’m not sure he intended to take us. He was acting very strange when he came to the house looking for Shane.”

  “Tonight? He thought Shane was at home tonight?”

  “I guess so. Why?”

  “Because if he’d been behind Max Williford’s murder he’d have known where Shane and I were.”

  “Not necessarily,” the older woman argued. “He was rambling when he showed up.”

  “If he wanted Sam’s old notes, why didn’t you give some to him?”

  “Because Harlan took most of the boxes. The rest, you and Shane had at the motel.”

  Jamie Lynn nodded. “Okay. I know I was followed from your house but I don’t know how long it will be before help arrives. Shane is on foot because I stole his truck. If he wants to bring Sam’s notes for a ransom, he and the sheriff will have to go collect them.”

  She eyed the window she’d had so much trouble opening. It was cracked, probably from the heat of the fire, and so smoky it was partly opaque. Hiding on the porch roof was no smarter for Marsha and Kyle than it had been for her when the Lamont brothers had been after her, but that didn’t mean Randall would reason it out.

  Jamie said, “I have an idea.”

  “No. We’re fine for now. As soon as Shane gets here with Sam’s files, the judge will let us go.”

  “In your dreams,” Jamie countered. “Think, Marsha. What would your Sheriff Sam tell you to do? The judge has gone ’round the bend, as my dad used to say. This bunch of low-life crooks has killed Sam and Max Williford and probably at least one of my parents. What makes you think anybody is going to walk away from this mess?”

  “We have to get Kyle out.”

  “Exactly why I came,” Jamie Lynn said. Because the child was cowering behind his grandmother, she leaned past Marsha to speak to him. “I’m going to count on you to rescue your memaw. Understand?”

  The tousled head nodded.

  “Okay. Give me your jacket and listen, both of you. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

  SEVENTEEN

  Anger took over Shane’s usually logical mind. He shouted. Paced. Confronted the sheriff and was ready to take on every other uniform in sight.

  Harlan startled him when he came up behind Shane and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Whoa.”

  Whirling, Shane drew back his fist, barely able to control himself. When the older man ducked and looked concerned, it helped snap him out of his mindless rage.

  He froze, still ready for a physical altercation, then slowly lowered his arm. His breathing was ragged, his pulse so rapid he could barely tell the beats apart. Every nerve in his body was firing and the connections in his brain were as snarled and tangled as the silk of a damaged spiderweb. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do next.

  “We know where Jamie’s going, right?”

  Shane could only nod.

  “Then let’s let the police chase after her while we go get the stuff the kidnapper wants.”

  “It won’t be enough. You should have heard his voice. He’s lost his mind. There’s no way we can trust him.”

  “That doesn’t matter right now. Get in my car. We’ll swing by my office and pick up a few boxes to satisfy the judge’s demands, just in case.”

  Moving as if his body were detached from his mind and he was merely an outside observer, Shane complied. Life as he’d known it was hanging by a frayed thread and all the events he’d once thought catastrophic paled in comparison. When he’d seen Jamie Lynn drive away, he hadn’t been able to decide whether to shout or tear his hair out by the roots. Now he was so numb he hardly felt a thing.

  He gripped the seat as the sheriff’s car slued around another corner and bounced in and out of potholes on the dirt road.

  “I should have known the minute that girl showed up that she’d be trouble,” Harlan said. “Never did cotton to that family. Nothin’ but a nuisance. All of ’em. Alice drove me crazy with her tall tales of Ray bein’ buried.”

  Shane stared over at him. “Buried? I thought everybody said he’d run off.”

  “Everybody but Alice. She swore he’d ended up at the end of Creek Hollow, where the road peters out.”

  “Did you ever look?”

  “I drove out there a time or two. There was no sign of a grave or any diggin’. Pretty soon, Alice was gone, too. Everything settled down after that.”

  “You never looked at any of my dad’s papers? His private files?”

  “Why should I? Anything that pertained to the office was right where it belonged. I had a couple of deputies gather up your daddy’s stuff and take it out to Marsha’s.”

  Where it sat in my barn gathering dust, Shane thought, until a special woman set aside her fears and came after the truth.

  “What are we going to do when we get to the Henderson place?” Shane asked.

  “Beats the you-know-what out of me,” Harlan replied. “I notified the state and asked for hostage negotiators but we’re three hours from Little Rock—unless they take a chopper and fly. I suppose they could do that, although I doubt it.”

  Shane wasn’t going to hold out hope that anyone would arrive in time to save his family. If he let himself get angry again he’d want to storm the house, which was pretty much guaranteed to get him killed.

  If Jamie Lynn had only waited, had let him come with her, maybe she’d have had some
idea of how to sneak up on the judge. After all, it had been her home once and she’d managed to outwit the arsonists.

  Stubborn. Pigheaded. Foolish. He ran out of derogatory terms and switched to complimentary ones. Loving, caring, beautiful, intelligent, courageous and right back to stubborn.

  She was a contradiction in more ways than one. Her difficult life had matured her yet had also left her feeling alone and unloved. He wondered if time would have eventually healed her if she hadn’t come back to Serenity. Perhaps. Perhaps not, given her brother’s unfair conviction and the absence of the mother whose motivations she was only beginning to comprehend.

  Something in Shane became more intense, then settled, as if imparting greater understanding along with surprising peace. He didn’t know if any of them would survive for much longer, but as for him, he accepted whatever was to come.

  He wasn’t fatalistic. Nor was he afraid. Not anymore. He was simply ready.

  * * *

  The first police unit entered the yard of the abandoned farm with its sirens and light bar off. Nevertheless, Jamie noted its arrival. This was precisely what she’d been waiting for.

  “All right. Do you both understand what you’re going to do?”

  Marsha nodded soberly but Kyle was eager. “I’m gonna ninja him like this. Hey-yah!” The little arms imitated martial arts moves.

  “Not this time,” Jamie warned gently. “You have to help Memaw run down the stairs. Remember?”

  “Uh-huh.” Looking at her, he asked, “Then I come get you?”

  “No, honey. I’m going to be doing something else. You can’t come back inside. You have to go to the policeman and wait for your daddy. It’s very important.”

  Although he made a face, he did agree. “Oh, okay.”

  “Good. Now, go stand where the door will open to hide you and be ready.”

  Jamie waited until the others were in place, then wrapped the child’s jacket around her arm and gave the cracked window a hard whack. It made noise but didn’t break.