by Glenn Trust
“Listen close to the directions I’m about to give you. I think it’s time for our get-together.”
“I’m ready.”
Albert gave the directions and Clay scribbled them. “Okay. I got it.”
“I figure it’ll take you about six hours from Talladega. Get on the road. We’ll be waitin’.”
“I’m on my way.”
“You best remember. You tell anybody…I see the law or even smell the law…she’s dead. I’ll cut her heart out and leave it for you.”
“I won’t be telling anybody.”
The call ended and Clay pulled back onto the interstate. Waiting at the diner in Talladega, thinking things through, he had become convinced that the Stinsons had never left Pickham County. He had begun driving, absently at first then, as the miles passed, with more purpose…back to Pickham County.
Relieved, now that he knew it for a fact, he guided the pickup around the Atlanta perimeter highway, I-285, towards I-75 south and out of the city. He would be back in Pickham long before the six-hour deadline Albert had given him. With a little luck and their surprise at his early arrival, they might have a chance.
71. Good Brother
Cy jerked the phone up from the console and answered. “Where are you?”
“Headed to meet them.”
Sounds of traffic could be heard over the phone. Clay was driving.
“Where? Where they have you going?” Cy prayed that it was to the same spot that he and George were headed.
There was a long silence on the phone, only the sounds of traffic audible over the connection. Cy was about to ask again when Clay spoke.
“You know brother; you’ve been good to me.”
“We’re brothers” Cy tried to lighten the mood. “You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re still my brother.”
Clay smiled. “True enough. Last few years you’ve had to put up with a lot.”
“Not so much.”
“More than you should have.” Clay stared out at the headlights, passing him in the northbound I-75 lanes. “I just want you to know…” His throat tightened and he blinked hard. “Want you to know, I couldn’t have a better brother.”
“I’m not that good a brother. You’re out there riding around the countryside headed to God knows what. I should be with you.” He had to get Clay back to the subject. “Where they got you going?”
“Want you to know, I love you. Tell Mama I love her too.”
“Clay! Where are you going?”
“You know I can’t tell you that. They’d kill Lyn…you too, if you showed up.” He smiled thinking of his older brother, trying to protect him as usual. “And I know you’d turn up.”
“Don’t do it like this, Clay. You have to tell me where they want you meet them. Don’t do it alone!” Cy breathed deeply, his voice on the verge of breaking, trying to gain control. “Just talk to me. Don’t shut me out now. It’s not right.”
“I have to. I just wanted to say…well what I said…you know.”
“I know.”
“Things work out…I’ll see you soon. If they don’t, you take care of Mama. Let the law handle the Stinsons.”
The line disconnected before Cy could make a last appeal. He blinked his wet eyes and looked at George. “Are we doing the right thing?”
“We’re doing the only thing.” He turned his head. “Mike Darlington’s watching the room at the StarLite. That means they must be planning to do it in Pickham County. I’d say Ruby Stinson knows her in-laws pretty well. We’re ahead of your brother on the road; that means we’ll get there first.” Looking into Cy’s eyes, he knew he needed to say something positive. “It’s not a longshot anymore. We just might pull this off.”
72. Pieces Falling Into Place
“Any movement?”
Mike shook his head, the phone to his ear. “Nope, not a thing, George. Light’s on in the room, but no one in or out since he went in.”
“Good.” George nodded. “How you doing there? Gonna make it?”
Mike yawned. “Now that you mention it, it’s been a long day.”
“I know. Sorry about that.” George paused wondering if he should say more. “Wish I could tell you…” He hesitated. “Anyway, I can't.”
“You should, you know. Plain to see there is something going…something big. Just give me a taste George…anything…a shred of probable cause so I can break the door down and drag his ass out.”
It was tempting. Just let Mike and the sheriff handle things. He would have done his duty…except for one thing. They had the girl, and he didn’t know if she was in the room. If she was there, it would be dicey. Mike might be able to save her…or maybe not.
If she was not there, Bain would tip off his older brother. When that happened, Albert would do what he had to. There would be no witnesses.
The Stinsons had been in Pickham County all their lives. They had been mean all their lives. George knew them and their type. He remembered a story floating around back in the seventies about a missing teenager. Word was old Clyde Stinson had dragged him out in the swamp, killed him and left him for the scavengers. No one could prove it. The boy was never found.
He shook his head. Besides, he’d made a commitment to Cy. “Can’t do it, Mike, sorry. Breaking the door down is just what we don’t want.”
“We? Somebody else in this with you?”
George shook his head, disgusted with his carelessness. “Just a figure of speech.”
“Right.” Mike did not sound convinced. “If you won’t talk to me, talk to the sheriff.”
“I am talking to the sheriff.” George smiled. “You’re his chief deputy. Same as talking to the sheriff.”
“Shit, George, what have you got me into? You make things damned difficult.”
“Don’t mean to, Mike. Just keep an eye out. I’ll let you know when we’re close.”
He ended the call, feeling almost comfortable for the first time since they had started their journey. They would have to adjust and adapt as they got nearer…keep their options open. It was always like that. A plan could only take you so far.
George was certain of one thing. He did not know yet how, or exactly when to take down the Stinsons, but they were going down. The trick was taking them without losing Lyn and Clay in the process.
Still, the pieces were falling into place.
73. The Great Joke
The mattress springs squeaked. Albert turned his head and looked at his brother, sprawled across the bed, snoring. Dumbass, he thought, wondering if when he took care of business with the boy he ought to just put the fuckin’ idiot out of his misery. He wasn’t no good to anyone anyhow…just a waste of breathin’ air. He wondered what his daddy would do.
He knew the answer to that immediately. Dumb and chicken shit as he was…he was family…blood. Daddy might have beat the shit out of him, but he wouldn’t have done him any permanent damage.
Shit. Albert figured he would be lumbered with his little brother the rest of his life. Sure as shit, he’d never go out on his own.
Angry at his father…angry at God…angry at the world…angry at being saddled with his dumb shit of a brother, he slammed the can of beer on the table. Bain’s eyes fluttered and he stirred.
“Huh?”
“Wake your ass up.”
Bain pushed himself up on the mattress and wiped his nose on his sleeve. “What’s up?” He looked at Albert, sitting on the plastic chair by the small table. “What you doin’ sittin’ up?”
“Someone gotta watch…plan…figure things out.” He shook his head. “You ain’t no goddamn help.”
Bain stood, scratched his ass, ran his fingers under his nose and blinked red eyed at his brother. “Why you always gotta be so pissed off?”
“I been carryin’ this family since Daddy died…gettin’ things done the way he woulda. Sometimes I wonder why. Daddy leaves me stuck with one so stupid he pulls a knife and then gets hisself killed…” Albert glared at Bain. “…and another wh
o’s just plain dumb.”
“There you go again, Albert.” Bain’s voice showed as much irritation as he dared to his brother. “You shouldn’t talk to me like that. You talk about blood…well, I’m your blood.”
Albert shook his head in disgust and nodded at the clock on the nightstand. “We need to head out.”
Bain squinted at the time. “Shit…it’s two in the morning. Why we got to go now? Let’s wait ‘til it’s daylight at least.”
“Do like I say. We got things to do, and we ain’t waitin’ for the boy to get there. We’re gonna make sure we’re set up and ready. Now get your ass movin’.”
“Awright…awright.” Bain looked around, saw his boots under the bed, sat down and began pulling them on.
“They’re stirrin’,” Lyn whispered.
Danny nodded.
“Be ready. Like I said, if the chance comes…you take it. Get away if you can. There won’t be any second chance.”
Danny nodded again. A few days ago, she was turning tricks in Savannah and making her way all right. It wasn’t much…just a room in the old woman’s house. But she kept it clean and there wasn’t any law around. Now, she’d give anything to see some law show up.
Huddled together on the floor by the bathtub, they jumped when the door crashed open. Albert stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette, lit from behind by the room’s dim yellow light.
He said nothing as he jerked Danny up, pulled her hands behind her, ran the duct tape around her wrists and pushed her out the door with a kick from his boot. Standing outside, Bain caught her before she fell on her face.
Albert smiled and reached for Lyn. Eyes blazing, she faced him. “What now, Uncle?” Irony oozed from the words.
Albert turned her roughly and began running the tape around her wrists. “Now, we see things through…all the way to the end.” Albert’s voice was surprisingly mild. He was in control and he knew it.
He pushed her through the door into the room. Danny sat on the chair, Bain standing over her looking uncertain as to what to do next. Albert crossed the room and parted the curtains with his hand, peering out.
“Quiet over at Pete’s Place. Lit up but not much goin’ on.” He turned to Bain. “Now’s as good a time as any.”
“Uh...okay.” Bain waited, still uncertain what to do.
“Jesus.” Albert sighed. “Follow me. Take them out. Shove them in the back of the truck cab.”
“Oh…right.”
Bain grabbed each girl by an arm. Albert led the way, turned the light off, opened the door and looked outside, scanning the parking lot, the road, and Pete’s Place.
“Let’s go.”
He opened the truck’s doors. Bain pushed the girls inside. A few seconds later, they were pulling away from the StarLite.
They had no way of knowing. If they had read the original homicide report filed by Deputy George Mackey, they might have been aware, but they hadn’t read the report.
Leaving in the dark early morning hours, they were departing the same room that a serial killer had left a few years earlier. The killer had been on a mission to dispose of his latest victim’s body, killed in that very room.
The killer had started the chain of events that led them to this moment. He had kidnapped a girl…from Pickham County…led the deputies and the GBI on a chase that ended in the mountains of northern Georgia.
It was a great, unknown joke. Fate…or God…or the devil… had played the joke.
Perhaps that was the ultimate joke. The mortals played things out unaware of the great joke, the circle of countless events that had led them back to the room.
It didn’t matter. Fate…or God…or the devil were like that. They laughed harder that the lost souls did not know the joke.
74. A Good Cop
It happened so quickly, Mike was surprised. Even with his tired eyes staring at the motel room, he was not fully prepared.
One second, all appeared as it had since he began watching from across the road. The next, the light went off inside and the door opened. A figure stood in the shadow of the doorway for a moment, looked over his shoulder into the room and then stepped into the parking lot.
Three figures followed him out of the room. From a distance of two hundred yards, Mike could not make out the faces. One was bigger…the first one. The other three were smaller in stature, but one of them was larger than the other two.
Shit. It was both Stinsons and they had someone with them. In the dark, he could not be sure, but he would have bet anything that those others were female.
It had taken less than half a minute. The truck backed away and pulled onto the county road, headed into the backcountry.
Mike grabbed his phone as he started the pickup’s engine. Waiting until they were out of sight, he pulled slowly from the shed and onto the county road. Headlights off, he accelerated and punched George’s number on the phone.
“Mackey.”
“They’re moving.”
“Did you see where?”
“West on the county road, away from the interstate and Pete’s Place…towards swamp country.”
“Right.” George looked at Cy. “We know where they’re headed. We’ll take care of it.”
“We again? Who is we?” Mike stared into the dark trying to stay on the road as he accelerated, not wanting to tip off the Stinsons that he was following. “What are you keeping from me, George?”
George shook his head at the dumb mistake for the second time. Must be tired…or old…or out of practice, he thought.
“Forget I said that, Mike.”
“Not this time, George.” For the first time, Mike sounded irritated. “I’m following.”
“Don’t do that.” Mike was acting in the blind, and he didn’t much like it. George didn’t blame him, but they hadn’t come this far to have things spiral out of control now. “I’m asking you not to follow them. I know where they’re headed.”
“And when they get there? What happens then?”
George remained silent.
“I figure this has something to do with Carl Stinson’s death,” Mike continued. “I expect his brothers are planning some sort of revenge and you got roped into helping stop it. Who? Who talked you into stopping it? The girl, Lyn? The boy?”
“You’re just guessing at things, Mike.” George hesitated. “Stop trying to put things together. You’re wrong,” he said weakly.
“I’m not stupid, George. I don’t know what they’re planning, but I’ve had plenty of time to sit here and think on things tonight. George, there is no way in hell I’m turning around and going home. I took an oath, remember…serve and protect.” Mike paused. “What would you do, George?”
It was true. If the roles were reversed, George would never pull off the case, even as a favor to a friend. Mike was a good cop. He was on the case, and he was by God going to stay on it.
“All right, Mike. You win. Back off them though. Worst thing that could happen is they catch sight of you in the mirror. Deserted country road, even at night…even with the headlights off…not hard to see if someone is following on a bright moon night.”
“I’ll back off, when you tell me where they’re headed.”
“Fair enough.”
Mike pulled to the shoulder of the road and George gave directions.
“You really think that’s where they’re headed?”
“Right direction. Everything points to it. Most of all Ruby Stinson thinks so, and I figure if anyone knows them and their ways, she does.”
“True.”
“Meet you a mile from the turnoff. I’ll fill you in then with all the details. I owe you that. Besides, I reckon someone should know everything in case things don’t work out.” George gave a soft laugh. “You may wish you had just gone home, Chief Deputy.”
“Not likely.”
75. The Dark That Surrounds
It smelled like death. The old house out by the swamp had been deserted for nearly twenty years. Its timbers emitted de
cay and rot into the humid night air like a nuclear dumpsite, showering radioactivity on any who ventured too close.
Bain pushed the girls towards the steps. They hesitated. Albert’s boot lifted and caught Lyn in the back hard enough that she stumbled and fell, her hands still bound behind her. Her face smashed into the rotted steps of the old porch, opening a gash on her cheek.
Albert jerked her up. “Get movin’.”
Struggling to her feet, she and Danny leaned against each other for support as they mounted the steps to the porch. The planks creaked and buckled under foot. In places, where the wood had decomposed from humidity and the attacks of insects, they were no more than a thin veneer with the appearance of solid wood.
“Shit!” Bain’s leg penetrated through the rotten flooring. He grabbed Lyn’s shoulder as he struggled to extricate himself from the wreckage of the porch, the edges of the broken planks clinging to his clothing, pulling him back down into the hole. “Goddamnit!” He jerked his leg hard and stumbled backwards, almost falling off the porch as his foot came free.
A fat raccoon waddled out from under the porch, chittering at the intruders. Bain jumped forward away from the edge of the porch and the raccoon.
Incredulous, Albert shook his head and turned away from his brother. He looked into the house from the door hanging off its hinges and spoke a silent thought to his dead father. This…you left me with this. Goddamn he’s a fuckin’ idiot.
He pushed the door to one side. “Everyone in.”
Lyn and Danny moved slowly into the dank interior of the house. Bain followed. Albert came through last.
“Damn! It smells like shit in here.” Bain stood in the center of the room afraid to move and fall through another rotten floorboard.
“It is shit. Raccoon shit, possum shit, squirrel shit…any kind of shit you want.” Albert laughed. “Old place never was much for looks, but it attracted varmints that’s for sure…and their shit.”
“I don’t like it here.” Bain looked around, trying to see the walls in the dim moonlight coming through the windows.