Dirty South Drug Wars

by Jae Hood

  I thought of the information I had from Nana’s safe, information that pointed to Davis. Other than the diaries and birth certificate, there was little else to imply Amos was involved with Tanner and my fathers’ murders. I remembered how Graham wanted nothing more than to end the dispute himself, to end Amos himself, without the help of the Feds.

  If the Feds found the evidence in the safe, they would blame everything on Davis, ignoring the circumstantial evidence pointing at Amos. Then what? They’d stay in Birchwood searching for Davis, who, to my knowledge, remained a prisoner in the Montgomery home?

  “No one wants to end this as badly as I do,” I said. “Can I go now, Detective? My sister needs me.”

  “I’m surprised they’re allowing you back inside the hospital. After that stunt you pulled, announcing your relationship with Tanner in front of your kin, I’m shocked you’re allowed anywhere on the premises. I guess being with a Montgomery has its perks.”

  I sighed, exhausted by his games. “Am I free to leave?”

  “Yes, Rue. You’ve always been free to leave. But this isn’t the last time you’ll see me.”

  “Great.”

  I dropped the knife next to my carving, next to various carvings which people had scratched into the surface of the table over the years. The blade landed with the tip pointing at Tanner and my names.

  Chapter 22

  The minutes, hours, and days dragged by after Lucy’s overdose. I fretted over my sister. She hadn’t moved again, not one single time since that one little twitching of her finger.

  Tanner, the September sun, and my perpetual state of worry were now the only constants in my life.

  Tanner remained by my side; he was my rock, my strength through the stormy trials of those endless days. He ignored the whispers, stares, and scowls of my various family members during the time we spent in the hospital, placing a stoic, unwavering expression on his face. The only relatives of mine unaffected by his presence were Josie and Nana.

  Chance weathered the storm with us as well. He, like Tanner and I, remained near Lucy at all times. His blond hair was disheveled and slightly greasy. To say he was in dire need of a good, hot shower was an understatement. Hell, we all were.

  Christine’s constant presence was nothing short of awkward and unfortunate. She sat in a small recliner-type chair throughout the days, her legs tucked underneath her as she skimmed through the pages of old magazines. When she’d grow tired, she’d rest her head against the recliner, her auburn curls fanning out against the stiff, salmon-colored fabric.

  How sleep came so easily to her was beyond my comprehension. I’d only nodded off for a couple of hours throughout those days, and even then it was only out of pure exhaustion.

  No matter how long I pondered over Christine, I could never wrap my brain around why she remained at the hospital. I expected her to show up and play the part of the sad mother, but I never expected her to remain by Lucy’s side. Especially once she found out who Lucy and I were dating.

  Christine was pissed upon finding out about Tanner; there was no doubt about that. I was unsure why considering her past relationship with Davis.

  First came Christine’s shock, then her burning hatred. She’d glare at me with her lips pressed together in a thin line. But she remained silent, choosing to sit in that stiff-assed recliner and read, ironically enough, Parents magazine.

  Christine’s presence was not only unwanted by me, but by Nana as well. Nana visited frequently at short intervals and called constantly. During her visits she would hover over little Lucy, adjusting the sheet and thin blanket tucked around her while peering anxiously at her face. Nana would squeeze and pat her hand, eventually shuffling out as she struggled in vain to hide her teary eyes.

  I guessed we all felt a little guilty over Lucy. I saw it in Nana’s watery eyes, felt it humming through the air from her body as she walked away. She blamed herself, just as Chance did, allowing the “what ifs” to repeat over and over in her brain.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t blame them both a bit for Lucy’s overdose. Accusation was easier to swallow than the hard knot of my own guilt that stayed embedded in my throat. I was my sister’s protector. I had been since the day she was born. It was my job to keep her safe, and I’d failed her.

  I’d failed myself.

  Detective Holloway continued to sniff around, although he was pretty neutral around my family and me. We weren’t strangers to law enforcement. We never had been, and never would be, so his appearance didn’t plague us much. We answered his questions and then ignored him, as we had in previous years when the FBI or DEA stepped in.

  There were two people conveniently missing from the mix of things: Uncle Amos and Drew Kingsley.

  Once Lucy was weaned from the ventilator and began breathing on her own, the frequency of our uncle’s visits dwindled until they ceased altogether. Lucy had yet to awaken, but I held onto hope, praying for my sister to get better, wake up, and explain the events that took place the night of her overdose.

  Amos’ disappearing poked and prodded my brain, leaving me all twisted and jumbled up inside. I remained suspicious of him, believing he’d possibly hired or bribed Drew to murder my sister. It was all too convenient how Amos left the football game, how Drew’s truck was found stashed in the woods near our home, and the hand-shaped bruising on Lucy’s body.

  I remembered Shelby’s words about Peyton, how he was selling drugs for Davis. I thought about questioning Peyton, but in the end I held back; he was untrustworthy. The last thing I needed was for him to tip Amos off that I was onto everything.

  It was a Sunday when life took another nosedive, spinning our world into a tornado of chaos. I awoke with my body stiff from the hard, uncomfortable recliner Tanner and I shared. Normally the two of us lay in each other’s arms, although sometimes I’d climb on Lucy’s hospital bed and rest next to my sister. That morning, however, I awoke alone, with nothing but the gentle breaths of my sister to comfort me and the sound of Christine’s incessant light snores.

  I stretched and yawned before standing from the chair and walking to the window. The sun was barely over the horizon, coating the dewy morning in a light sherbet-orange glow.

  After walking to the restroom and brushing my teeth, I peeked my head out into the hallway. Two familiar silhouettes stood down the lengthy hospital corridor.

  Amos and Buck.

  Concealing myself in Lucy’s room, I watched as they conversed, solemn expressions on both their faces. They looked down the corridor at Lucy’s door at times, but I was confident they couldn’t see me through the thin crack between door and wall. They spoke at length before they turned and strolled toward the elevators, disappearing from my view.

  I stepped away from the door but paused as Tanner slipped from a room near where Amos and Buck had stood. Tanner’s face was pinched in distress as he stalked to Lucy’s room. I pushed the door open, revealing myself.

  Tanner halted at the door, noticing Christine asleep on the recliner. He gestured for me to follow him into the bathroom. I cast one last glimpse into my sister’s room before following and closing the door behind us.

  “You were right,” he whispered. “We have to get Lucy out of here.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  “I went to grab a Coke from the vending machine. When I started back to Lucy’s room I heard Amos and Buck talking. I ducked into an empty room and stood near the door to listen.

  “They were all in on it, Rue. Amos, Buck, and Drew. Buck was the lookout. He watched your house the night of Lucy’s overdose. He called Drew after you left for the game then called Amos when he saw us pull into the drive. Buck kept a visual somewhere nearby the entire time, watching, waiting.”

  “Oh my God,” I whispered. “I knew they were all in on it together. When Lucy wakes up, she’s going to tell everyone what happened. It’ll be enough to have them locked up.”

  “What if she doesn’t wake up?” he asked. “What if Lucy never
wakes up? They’ll get away with it. They’ll get away with killing Jeb, my father, and Lucy. We can’t let them get away with it, Rue. Besides, I don’t think Amos plans for Lucy to wake up.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tanner raked his fingers through his hair. “Amos can’t take the chance of Lucy ever waking up, which is what I overheard him and Buck discussing. That Fed has been snooping around, asking Amos a bunch of questions. The doctor said Lucy should pull through fine. Now Amos is nervous. Nervous people do crazy things. I think he’ll try to kill Lucy, somehow, some way. Maybe he’ll pay someone off, get a nurse to mix up her meds with something lethal. Maybe he’ll make it look like an accident. Maybe—”

  I held up my hand. “Stop. I don’t want to know your theories on how he’s gonna off my sister. Tell me your plans on how to save her.”

  “We need to distract the staff away from her room while we move her. How in the hell does someone sneak a patient out of a hospital?”

  “We could do it at night,” I replied. “There’s less staff, which means less people paying attention.”

  Tanner grinned. “Not only is my girlfriend hot, she’s a damn genius.”

  I nudged him, not believing him for a second but pleased with his words. “Don’t call me a genius until Lucy is safely out of this hospital.”

  Tanner pulled out his cell and scrolled down the screen until he found his uncle’s number. “Graham will help us hammer out the details. Moving unresponsive people from one location to the next is his specialty.”

  *

  Josie removed the thin hospital blanket from my sister’s pale, flaccid leg. “Lucy, you really look like shit. Being in a coma is no excuse for lack of good personal hygiene.”

  Josie painted Lucy’s toenails an audacious bloody red, the color standing out against her skin. Lucy remained in her peaceful slumber, her long lashes resting against her cheeks, unaware of our cousin’s insults and pampering.

  A textbook lay in my lap, as it had all day long. I couldn’t for the life of me tell which subject I was supposed to be studying. Josie gathered my school work each day, bringing it to the hospital so I could work on it in the confines of Lucy’s room.

  There was something about that particular day that stole my attention from the pages in front of me. It could have been the doctors ducking in and out all day long, confounded by my sister’s condition. She breathed on her own and showed signs of brain activity. They could find no medical reason for her state of unconsciousness. Maybe it was the memory of Christine’s vicious glares weighing on my mind, or the thought of Amos harming my sister. Either way, my homework remained in my lap untouched.

  Olivia curled her legs under her in the chair Christine normally rested in. “I still can’t get over the two of you dating Montgomery boys.”

  Tanner and I remained in our normal spot, curled up in the recliner at Lucy’s bedside. He traced patterns across my bare arm while Josie and Olivia spoke. Goose bumps erupted across my flesh with each stroke of his finger. I heard his quiet chuckle in my ear, my head resting in the crook of his neck. I was content in his arms, even when Christine was present, even during my cousin’s questions of our relationship and my sister’s unresponsive state. Luckily, Christine had gone for a cup of coffee, leaving us all plenty of breathing room.

  Olivia took the nail polish from a glaring Josie. She ran the brush along Lucy’s big toe, coating the nail with the angry color. “Peyton is furious, by the way. He says you’re a bunch of traitors. I can’t believe your parents didn’t flip their shit, Josie.”

  “Oh, they did,” Josie replied. “They were pissed, but what’re they gonna do? Shoot me? Ha! Amos, maybe, but not them.”

  “Yeah, Amos is super pissed.” Olivia’s voice was light and careless. “I heard him talking to Daddy at the office. Everyone assumes I’m clueless, walking around with my head in the clouds. I know what’s going on.”

  “What do you mean?” Josie asked. “What did you hear them say?”

  Olivia shrugged, finishing the last toenail and shoving the brush into the bottle before screwing it back on. “I heard them arguing when I filled in for their secretary. I was filing paperwork for Daddy when Amos came storming in. He slammed the door behind him, but I could still hear every word.”

  Olivia’s voice trailed off. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on her chapped lip as she studied Lucy, her best friend.

  “They’re all in on it,” she whispered. “All the brothers. Amos is the ringleader. It was all his idea; the others, they’ll do anything he tells them to do. They’ve been working with Davis Montgomery and a man named Ray for years. They were planning on taking down Graham soon, taking over his contacts so they can build their own empire.

  “Then y’all messed up their plans, started snooping around, messing with the Montgomery boys. They’re scared of you, Rue. They’re scared of you and Lucy, terrified that you have some sort of information on Uncle Jeb’s death.

  “They work with Davis, but they don’t trust him. You can’t trust anyone in the game. He’s got something linking Amos to Jeb’s death, but I dunno what it is. They’re scared, you know? They’re scared Davis gave y’all the information.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” I asked.

  “Because Lucy’s my best friend,” Olivia responded. “She’s always been there for me. I love my father, but what he and his brothers are doing is wrong. I’m sorry, Josie, that you had to find out about Uncle Saul this way.”

  Josie sighed. “Daddy is a dirty dog. I love the bastard for the simple fact that he’s my daddy, but that doesn’t make what he did right. We need that evidence.”

  Tanner continued to stroke my arm, appearing lost in the action. “Davis isn’t talking.”

  Davis isn’t talking. Does he mean Davis remains a captive in Graham’s basement, refusing to crumble under whatever sort of torture Graham is inflicting?

  “It doesn’t matter,” Chance spoke up.

  Chance was so quiet I’d almost forgotten he was there. He sat on the opposite side of Lucy’s hospital bed, holding one of her limp hands in his own.

  Josie opened her mouth to respond, but she was interrupted by the shrieking of an alarm. The sound was shattering, the type of shrill that left my ears throbbing and my brain bleeding.

  “Shit!” Olivia pressed her hands over her ears. “What the hell is that?”

  “It’s the fire alarm,” Josie yelled.

  We all covered our ears in a fruitless attempt to drown out the noise while a flutter of activity began outside Lucy’s open door. Staff rushed by, yelling to one another above the deafening sound.

  I tossed my textbook on Lucy’s bedside table and jumped up, following Tanner and Chance to the door. The three of us looked out in the hallway, with Josie and Olivia close behind. We stepped into the corridor, looking for the source of the commotion.

  A tall man wearing a lab coat paused near the doorway, his eyebrows drawn in concern. He grasped a clipboard in his hands and gestured down the corridor. “Y’all need to get out,” he hollered. “There’s a fire on the second floor. Take the stairwell and exit the building as quickly as possible.”

  “What about my sister?” I asked, grabbing Josie’s arm for support. “What about the other patients?”

  “We’ll take care of her,” he replied. “We’re well prepared. Now do as I say and get out of the building.”

  Josie and Olivia nodded, but I remained in place.

  Tanner placed his hands on the small of my back, attempting to guide me down the hallway. “We need to leave,” he yelled.

  “No, I’m not leaving Lucy.” Panicked, I grabbed the handrail on the wall and held on tight, refusing to budge.

  Tanner wrapped his arms around my waist. He dragged me away, ignoring my protests. “I’m not leaving you in a burning building, Rue. I don’t give a damn who else is left behind, as long as it’s not you.”

  I fought against him, but he held firm, pulling me,
kicking and screaming, to the fire exit. I caught a glimpse of Chance’s troubled face where he stood in Lucy’s doorway, torn.

  A burly security guard appeared, yelling and demanding Chance exit the building. Chance remained unmoved until the guard wrapped his meaty hands around Chance’s arms and hauled him away from the door, shoving him in our direction. Chance started to protest, raising his voice high above the blast of the alarms. The guard hollered back, his hand hovering over the Taser clasped to his belt. Chance begrudgingly fell behind us with a solemn, apologetic expression.

  The parking lot and luscious grassy area in front of Birchwood Medical Center were flooded with murmuring, worried individuals. We joined them, staring at the large gray building in front of us. Smoke trailed from the lower floor of the hospital not far from where Lucy lay blissfully unaware. Doctors and nurses pushed hospital beds from inside the building, but most of the patients were mobile, walking in their hospital gowns or being propelled in wheelchairs.

  “Where’s Lucy? I don’t see Lucy,” I said.

  “They’ll evacuate the patients who have a greater chance of recovery first,” Tanner said. “And the others last.”

  He never looked up from his phone, his thumb flying over the screen. Graham’s name and photo popped up. Tanner pressed the phone to his ear, murmuring into the cell, fingers in his hair. After a couple seconds, he ended the call and shoved the phone into his back pocket.

  Christine appeared nearby, frantic and crying. I heard her yelling my name, pulling at the sleeve of my shirt, but I paid her little attention. My skin crawled as a strange yet familiar feeling washed over me. I could feel it, whispering in my ear, scratching at my brain, creeping through my bones.

  The fire inside the hospital, so very near where my sister lay, was a planned, carefully hatched-out scheme.

  I sank to my knees, the grass scratchy on my skin. Tanner stooped down, his lips moving, lines of concern wrinkling his forehead, but I heard nothing. I stared at his moving mouth, the words refusing to sink in.