Almost Home

by Clemmons, Caroline

  He wedged himself onto the running board of a van to ease his weight from his feet. "Anyone we pass will see me. We wouldn't get two blocks from here before we were caught."

  "Oh, no. Oh, no. I give Miss Gwen's kids rides all the time and they think it's fun. See, I just pull out these dividers." Coy removed the wooden partitions that separated portions of his cart and laid them flat on the wagon bed. He unfolded a tarp that he kept rolled up behind his bicycle seat.

  "If you was to curl up in there on your side, I'd put this old cover over you. No one could see you."

  Link heard sirens. They sounded headed his way. Maybe they were ambulances. No, there were too many.

  The nurses must already have found the deputy and alerted the authorities. Soon the place would be crawling with officers searching for him. He couldn't walk much farther without some rest, especially in the shoes he'd taken from the deputy.

  Coy’s cart was his only chance to escape.

  With misgiving he half crawled, half fell, into the cart. By tucking his knees against his chest he folded himself inside the rickety wooden structure. Coy covered him with an ancient tarpaulin that smelled like the inside of a dirty garbage can.

  Link gagged at the odor, but managed to suppress the waves of nausea. Sirens drew closer, then passed. Others sounded as if they were coming from several directions.

  Link didn't want to think about what might have been hauled in this spot before tonight. This was no time to look a gift horse in the mouth—or nose.

  The cart lurching forward loosed a wrecking ball in his head. Each bump shot pain through every muscle and joint. The bicycle chain clanked a ragged rhythm as Coy pedaled out of the hospital parking lot. No one stopped them.

  In a loud whisper, Coy spoke to his passenger, “Now we’re away from the hospital and turning down Elm Street.”

  Coy relayed each street and major landmark they passed. The movement of the rickety cart against the pavement proved torture for Link. In his contorted position the suffocating tarp and the constant jostling against his battered body literally became unendurable. Link slipped into the blessed relief of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Anna watched Kathy pace back and forth in the living room of the Dixon family home. Fran and her husband Robert sat at a table holding hands, their sons Bobby and Johnny were asleep in the next room. Alex and his sister Tory played quietly while their parents, Gwen and Forrest Phifer, sat on the sofa.

  Anna briefed the family on the small amount of information she had from Vince. “He’ll come by later and update us on anything he and Eddy Wells can find.”

  Watching the effects of shock and worry claw at people she had come to admire pained Anna. She felt an interloper at such a difficult time. Kathy had begged her to stay, though, and she hated to abandon her friend.

  She thought Jason should be here with the family, but it wasn't her place to say anything. Did he know all the problems facing his father? She admitted he was better off getting a good night’s rest. Maybe by morning they’d have news of his dad.

  Anna heard Beth upstairs coaxing her mother to take a sedative and go to bed. From what Anna knew of Mrs. Dixon, she would wait by the phone for any word. Lamar Dixon sat in his chair by the fireplace, a downcast expression on his face. Poor man, she wished she could say something helpful to ease his worry.

  The doorbell rang and everyone jumped. Kathy opened the door and threw herself into the arms of the man who stood outside.

  “Oh, Uncle Mick, Aunt Mary. I knew you’d come help us.”

  “Let them in, Kathy,” Lamar said.

  The couple entered and Lamar nodded toward the stairwell. “Beth’s upstairs with Katherine.”

  Mary said. “I’ll just go on up and see Katherine now. Mick will fill me in later.”

  Anna froze when she saw the man her friend had called uncle. The intervening years had treated him kindly, but she recognized him immediately. She wanted to bang her head against the wall.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! Dixon. It’s a common enough name, no wonder she didn’t connect it. Heaven help us. Detective Mick Dixon. The man who had investigated Lucky’s death, then later the deaths of the two policemen.

  She stood quietly by the hearth while the family huddled around the newcomer. She wished she could slip out the back, but her disappearance would appear odd. Besides, Vince would be by later and expect her to be here. She couldn’t let him face this man alone.

  Perhaps in the intervening years Detective Dixon had worked so many cases he wouldn’t remember her and Vince. After all, they’d been kids at the time he met them. Their names were the same, though. She prayed with all her might.

  Kathy came over and dragged her toward the detective. “Anna, meet my favorite uncle. Uncle Mick, Anna’s office is next to mine at the university and she’s here to offer her support.”

  His brow furrowed for a minute, then he smiled. “Glad you’re here for Kathy and her family. It’s a terrible thing to have happened.”

  Thankful Kathy hadn’t used her last name, Anna said, “Hello. Obviously your arrival has already brought a measure of comfort where it’s needed.”

  He stared at her again, but his brother called to him. After a nod at Anna, he turned to Lamar Dixon. “I heard what’s on the news. Fill me in on all that’s really happened.”

  While the family clustered around the detective, and Lamar Dixon explained all they knew, Anna stood by Kathy. At least she could offer support until her friend learned her past and asked her to leave.

  Lamar said, “Anna here and her brother were the ones who found Link and the other man and got them away from the men trying to kill them.”

  Mick stared at her.

  It unnerved at her and she babbled. “But we took them to the closest hospital, not realizing we should have taken them out of the county. As soon as the sheriff found out they were there, he started trying to frame them for two murders and made all sorts of other accusations. My brother and the deputy who worked with Link are off trying to work out a plan to get to the bottom of this mess.”

  "At least Link got away from the hospital," Fran said. "Oh, that Gary Don Clayton makes me furious. I never did like him."

  Gwen said. "Daddy, we have to think where Link could have gone. He needs our help."

  Lamar Dixon patted the hand she placed on his shoulder. "No, Gwen, we have to stay where he would expect to find us. By now, you can bet the sheriff has us all under close observation. Clayton wouldn't mind a little illegal phone tapping either, so watch what you say to one another on the phone. We simply have to trust Link's abilities and do nothing to endanger him further."

  "Dad's right, Gwen honey," Forrest came to place his arms around his wife. "We should go home. If Link manages to slip by to contact one of us, he’ll need us available."

  Within minutes, Fran and Gwen and their families had left. Beth and her aunt remained upstairs with Mrs. Dixon and Kathy and Anna stayed with the two men.

  “I wish I knew how to help my son.” Lamar leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He looked as if he had aged years this evening. “All I could think of, Mick, was to call you.”

  The other man laid his hand on Lamar’s shoulder. “I’ll do what I can, you know that.”

  They heard car doors, and Anna peeked out the door. “It’s Vince,” she said and opened the door.

  She wanted to warn him, but hadn’t a chance. Eddy and Vince burst into the room.

  Eddy said, “We tried the DEA guy, but there’s no answer, only voice mail.”

  Lamar said, “Mick, this is Deputy Eddy Wells who works with Link, and this is his friend, Vince Bertolli, a local attorney. Vince is the man who helped Anna rescue Link.”

  Mick stuck out his hand to greet the two men. “Bertolli? I knew of a man in Dallas...“

  Anna saw the change on his face when he connected the name. His gaze flew from Vince to her and then back to Vince. She held her breath.

  Vince must
have made the connection at the same time. His face paled and he stared open-mouthed.

  Mick nodded at Vince, then Eddy. “Um, glad to meet both of you men. Any news?”

  “No,” Vince said. “We’ve called several people I knew before I came to Cartersville, but so far nothing has helped. I’ve talked to the State Troopers, but they can only promise to investigate the sheriff and his phony charges.”

  They doorbell startled them all. Lamar rose and rushed to the door. A tearful Maggie wrung her handkerchief as she wailed, "I can't find Jason. He's run away."

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  When Link woke, he lay on the tarp. Without moving, he looked about him. Appeared he was in a small cave. Nearby, Coy squatted before a camp stove, concentrating on the pot he stirred.

  From the light outside the cave, Link figured it must be the middle of the day. The smells from whatever Coy had boiling on the camp stove made Link's stomach rumble. Maybe part of the pain he felt sprung from hunger.

  He moved to see if he could, and the noise made Coy turn.

  Coy's face broke into a beaming smile. "Why, you're awake. I'm sure glad. I was gettin' real scared. I cain't get a doctor up here without Sheriff Gary Don findin’ out."

  Link raised himself to a sitting position and regretted it immediately. Even his eyelashes and toenails hurt--especially his cramped toes. He tried again and managed a sitting position. He removed his stolen shoes as he spoke. "Where are we?"

  "This here's where I go campin' sometimes. Don't nobody but me never come here now. Betcha can't guess where we are?"

  Link searched his memory. How many years ago had he and his friends played in the cave they'd found? "Are we near Indian Head Hill?"

  Coy's eyes widened with surprise mingled with pleasure. "You 'membered. I thought no one 'membered about this place but me. They boarded this all up, but I took off a few boards and fixed 'em so they swivel like a door and I can get in and out. Even get my bike and cart in.”

  He walked over and demonstrated the clever way he’d fixed him a door. “Don't nobody come here, though, 'cept me. 'Member how you used to let me play Injuns with you?" Coy walked back to the stove.

  Link remembered. The cave entrance had been boarded up after Wes Cline broke his leg in a fall from a ledge. Their parents decided the hideout was too dangerous for young boys. He and his friends were heartbroken.

  Link remembered more—he remembered the steep trail up to the cave. "How on earth did you get me in here from the road?"

  "I put the tarp on the ground and then put you on the tarp so I could drag you in here. Ooee, you sure are heavy. It took me a long time. Tore my tarp some, too. Then, you know what I did?"

  His eyes twinkled with something akin to conspiracy. “I got me a branch with leaves on it and went back and brushed out the marks I made draggin’ you. Just like cowboys do in the movies.”

  "If I get out of this, I'll get you a new tarp. I'll get you a lot of things, Coy. You've saved my life."

  "That's all right. You and your family always been real nice to me, nicer than anybody else 'cept Mama. I'm sure sorry you're in all this trouble. What're you gonna do?"

  He wondered the same thing himself. "That depends. How long have we been here?"

  Coy stopped stirring to concentrate on his calculations. "Well, let me see. It was about midnight when we left the hospital, and I guess it took me close to an hour to get here, what with pedalin' uphill and all. Then I had to get you out of the cart."

  Link cringed in frustration. Talking to Coy required carefully worded questions to keep the man from becoming lost in deliberation. "What day is it and what time is it?"

  His voice sounded much sharper than he intended, and he saw hurt on the other's face. "I'm sorry, Coy, I didn't mean to snap. I'm worried and in a lot of pain."

  "Oh, that's okay." The smile returned to Coy's placid face as he looked at his watch. "It's Sunday 'bout eleven. I reckon everybody 'cep'n us is in church. After you get all this trouble fixed up, I'll have to explain to Pastor why I missed church today. Say, I got some aspirin you could take with your stew. All I got to drink, though, is water."

  Coy dished up a bowl of the stew and brought it over. Then he produced a bottle of aspirin.

  As Link ate, he looked around the small space. This had been the secret hideout for him and a couple of friends, and they had let Coy join them. A lot of his tenth and eleventh summers, he and his friends had spent right here--dreaming wonderful dreams, imagining themselves invincible and able to defeat all the evils of the world.

  Right now he felt far less than invincible. In fact, he felt like hell.

  Although he had no idea what went wrong, he understood that somehow his message to Travis never reached the man. Instead, every lawman in this and the surrounding counties would be hot on his heels. He had to reach a phone. And he had to get clothes and shoes. Most of all, he had to get word to Jason that he was alive.

  He tried to think of all the things Gary Don might do to prevent him from contacting Travis. By now, legal or not, there were probably phone taps on the lines of all his family. Someone would be watching each house, waiting for him to show up asking for the help he desperately needed.

  "Coy, do you think you could get to my sister Gwen's house and give her a message without anyone else seeing you?"

  Coy nodded. "Why sure, Link. I go see Miz Gwen all the time. Everybody knows that."

  "I need clothes--especially shoes or boots that fit. And a cell phone. Do you think you could give her a message and then bring back those things?"

  Coy bobbed his head again and extinguished the camp stove flame. Digging around in his various boxes near the wall of the cave, he produced a battered note pad and dusty ballpoint pen. "You mean one of them phones that don't have no cord, don't you? I see 'em on the TV all the time. I just don't know how they can work, do you?"

  "No, but I'm grateful they do. I'm writing a note to Gwen. Don't let anyone but her know you have it, and give it to her so no one else sees you unless it’s her husband." After several tries, Link made the pen work and wrote out a brief note for his sister.

  Coy took the paper when he brought the water canteen to Link. "There's some more cans of stew in that box. I can't leave food here that’s not in cans or the rats and other animals get at it. I don't mind sharing with any creatures but the rats. I just hate rats, don't you?"

  "Yeah, all kinds of rats. Now, don't tell anyone except Gwen I'm here. Can you do that?"

  "You can count on me, Link. It'll take me a while, but I'll be back with some clothes for you."

  Link watched Coy until he disappeared around the mouth of the cave. Weariness overcame him and he sank back to the ground. He couldn't give in to his need for rest yet. For now he must remain alert and puzzle out this mess.

  Moving like an aged man, he dragged the tarp near the wall and made a backrest from a cardboard box. Taking the note pad and pen in hand, he listed all the people he knew to be involved.

  Boo

  the crazy called Al

  Forsythe

  Gary Don.

  What about Buel Watson, Goddard, Wells, or others at the sheriff’s office?

  No, he knew Eddy Wells could not be a part of this. But why didn't he act on the note he left for him? Goddard? He doubted the crusty old lawman had ever taken as much as a paper clip. Although he disliked Watson, he knew little about the man.

  Other than Gary Don, who had access to information about Jenkins? How could Jenkin’s murder tie into Mitzi’s death? Link hated this waiting, hated being held prisoner by his aching body.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The aspirin and warm stew eased the sharpness of Link’s pain. Against his will, he drifted to sleep. He woke with a start.

  The walls of the cave baffled him until the memory of his situation returned. He remembered where he was, that it was Sunday evening, and he was in a cave on Indian Head Hill. When he had time to get his bearings, he tried to stand. Every muscle pro
tested and he dropped on his knees.

  He saw one of the long broom handles Coy collected. He crawled to it and used it to raise himself upright. It made a nice staff and he used it for support.

  Twilight shone through the boards at the entrance. Why hadn’t Coy returned? Something must have gone wrong. He hobbled to the cave’s mouth, careful to remain in shadow behind the boards across the entrance.

  In the distance he saw the old cemetery and, below it, cars on the highway. One car crept up the road nearest him, but no Coy. He watched as the car stopped and a couple entered the cemetery to place a wreath on a grave.

  After a few minutes, the couple left. Would someone be putting flowers on his grave soon? His present situation seemed impossible.

  If Ricky died, he would leave only two men who could explain his involvement in this mess. No, Travis said there was another man undercover, but that man might not know of Link’s innocence. Was Ricky that second man, or was the other agent someone working in the sheriff’s office? Link tried to picture the roster of men with whom he worked. He didn't even know all of them yet.

  He turned and walked. The rough floor hurt his bare feet, but he didn't know if he could ever squeeze his feet into those tight shoes again. Maybe Coy would bring shoes that fit.

  He saw the pan of stew waiting and spooned the rest into his mouth. Too late, he wondered if Coy had more or if he’d just downed the man’s share. No, Coy had said there were more cans.

  The delay worried him. Maybe Gwen wasn't home and Coy was waiting for her. Maybe something had gone wrong.

  Too many maybes. He'd give Coy a little while longer. Before he what? He had no clue.

  He moved a rickety wooden chair near the entrance to the cave and sat down to watch for Coy and wait. And tried to puzzle a way out of this mess.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine