LYING COP

by Sandy Night

  “They’ll be a patrol car there.” Colt interrupted her thinking. “If he shows up, they’ll get him and guard him while being treated.”

  *****

  Sally Jean picked up the fifth and poured another dollop of vodka into her glass. The ice melted into tiny cubes but that was okay. After setting the bottle back onto the coffee table, she leaned back into her comfort groove in the old sofa.

  A good movie started with one of her favorite actors. Hallelujah, she was alone, nobody there to interrupt with idiotic ramblings while she tried to listen to the TV– specifically, Doug Haggard. She reached over and switched off the lamp on the end table.

  Part of her mind went back to wondering if he discovered the bullets missing from his pistol and if he tried to use it. Did he even check it periodically? Would he suspect that she had emptied his sidearm? He’ll never know it was her. She threw them bullets way out in the weeds while he was in the shower after their last hump in her bed. He had been getting so crazy from tweaking, she was afraid he’d shoot somebody who didn’t deserve to be shot.

  Tired of thinking about it, she focused all her attention on the hot actor, but then headlights flashed through her living room. Shit, someone pulled up. Reluctantly, she snatched the remote and pushed the off button. The house went dark. She’ll pretend she’s not here.

  Bam-bam-bam!

  Sally Jean stiffened from the pounding on the door. Shit! If that was Doug he was surely pissed off. He must have figured out when his bullets had gone missing.

  Bam-bam-bam! “Sally Jean, get your whoring ass out of bed and open the God damn door!”

  Huh, that wasn’t Doug. But the voice did sound familiar. She sprung off the sofa, went to the window, and peeked around the curtain. Solar lights bordering her front porch lit up Tom. What the hell got him so mad? But then again, it didn’t take much to turn him into a raging bull.

  Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam!

  Oh hell, maybe Doug got hurt or killed because there were no bullets in his gun and Tom knows it was her doing. Shit. Sally Jean’s knees began to buckle and trickles of pee escaped. She glanced toward the doorknob. Did she lock it? Sometimes she did and sometimes she didn’t.

  Her feet moved. She stuck her hand out and touched the cool metal as it was turning.

  The door burst open, slamming her to the floor.

  Tom stepped over the threshold. “What the fuck?” He hit the wall switch, turning the overhead light on. His angry expression furrowed brows between killer eyes as he burned a glare into her.

  “Asshole,” Sally Jean spluttered, sitting up. “I was coming to let you in.”

  “Well get your fat ass up and go help your boyfriend,” he shot back, swinging the door wide open and pointing at her front yard.

  “Who you talking about?” she asked, getting on her knees and taking hold of the coffee table.

  “How many boyfriends you got you whore?”

  She stood. “I got plenty to whoop your ass if you lay one hand one me.”

  Tom looked straight at her and shook his head. Then he spun around and strode out the door, yelling, “Doug, get out of my truck!”

  Sally Jean followed.

  The truck’s interior light glowed around Doug sitting on the passenger side with his head leaning back. Blood dotted his face.

  She stood by the front end.

  Tom yanked the door open. “We’re here, now let’s go.”

  Doug sat up with his eyelids flickering. “Sally Jean’s?”

  “Yeah, Sally Jean’s.” Then Tom literally pulled him out of the truck. “She’s here. She’ll take care of you.”

  She didn’t like this at all. “What the hell’s going? What happened to him?”

  “Never mind what happened to him.” With his arm around the thin man, Tom kicked the door closed, brought him over to her and let go. “Keep him here for awhile.”

  Doug toppled on her, almost knocking her over. She grabbed hold of him and using all the balance she could muster, held him up.

  “He’ll need help getting to the house. Lay him down.” Tom hurried around the front end. “I’m coming back; I’ll take him to the doctor.” He jumped in his truck and shouted, “I got something to do!”

  “How long you gonna be gone?” Sally Jean hollered back.

  The brute didn’t answer; instead he backed up and tore down the road.

  She began to lead Doug to the house but stopped, his body didn’t feel right. Something protruded in his side. “What the hell happened to you?”

  “Rolled over,” he mumbled.

  “Rolled over? Rolled over what?”

  He moaned, “SUV.”

  “You were in an accident?”

  “Just get me inside,” he said, slumping heavily into her.

  She propped him up. “Why the hell didn’t Tom take you to the hospital?”

  “No hospital,” he said, barely audible. And then his body jerked a few times like maybe he was going to go into convulsions.

  Holy Mother of Thunder! Those two done something really bad, and here she was taking the bloody injured into her house, making her an accessory to their dirty deeds. She didn’t think so.

  Hauling him toward her big old four-door, she said without attitude, “Honey, I can’t do nothing for you and no telling how long Tom will be. I’m gonna go ahead and take you to somebody who can fix you up, give you something for pain too.”

  “You know somebody?”

  “Yeah, I know somebody.” Sally Jean helped him climb in the back seat where he flopped over. She slammed the door and headed to the house to get her keys and purse. Yeah, she knew someone all right, ER.

  Chapter 29

  Colt drove to the hospital, holding Alaska’s hand. They were most assuredly a bon-a-fide couple. He’d met her brother and that went well enough, considering. And she met his parents. Nobody could dispute his affair with her now, however turbulent it began.

  The ER’s lights appeared brightly ahead, showing an ambulance and two patrol cars. Then something odd flew by his peripheral vision. “What the heck?” He released her hand and made a sharp u-turn, pulling into a small business building’s parking lot.

  “What are you doing?” Alaska asked. And then the headlights shone upon a body lying on the pavement, in the handicapped zone. “Oh my God,” she uttered.

  He threw the gear in park and leaving the engine running and the lights on, he opened his door. “Stay here,” he said slipping out.

  “Holy shit,” she shrieked, “it’s Haggard!”

  Reaching behind his back, Colt pulled out his gun. “Stay in the truck.” he expected her to do so but wasn’t surprised when she barreled out the passenger side. Stretching his legs, he beat her to the man on the ground that did look like the deputy.

  “You bastard,” Alaska cursed as she hustled toward them.

  Pointing the revolver at the suspect, Colt extended his other arm out to block her. “Get back– now! He could be armed.”

  “I just want to kick him.”

  “You can’t assault an injured person. You can get arrested for that.”

  “So who’s gonna tell, you?”

  The body turned his head to look up at them, blood streaked his face. And then he lifted his hand to shield his eyes as if the light blinded him.

  Keeping his gaze peeled on the suspect, Colt lowered his arm and calmly said, “I wouldn’t tell on you. Now stay back, I need to pat him down.” Bending over, he started at the man’s ankles and began working his way up but the position hurt his side so he got on his knees. He found the man’s wallet and no weapons. “There should be a flashlight in the glove, go get it.”

  Alaska limped off.

  It sure did look like Haggard, but before Colt tried to question him he wanted to be sure. It could have been a brother or a cousin.

  She didn’t take long, headed right back, swinging light. “I know it’s him.”

  Colt stuck the revolver back into his pants. “Just let me have it.”
He stuck his hand out.

  The beam landed on the suspects face. He moaned and mumbled what sounded like, “What the fuck.”

  “Alaska, let me have it.” The flashlight plopped into Colt’s palm. “Now stand back, you’re dangerous.” He let out a short chuckle.

  “I’m glad you find that amusing.” She hovered behind him. “What’s in his wallet?”

  “The ID confirms it. Deputy Douglas P. Haggard.”

  “What else, any money?”

  Colt flipped the wallet closed. “What do you want to do, rob him?”

  “It could be my money.”

  Standing, he asked, “And how’s that?”

  “I brought a lot of cash to Branson, about eight hundred.” Alaska stepped out from behind him and folded her arms. “When we went to Whip’s apartment, I shoved my purse underneath the seat of my truck and locked it. I put my keys in my pocket but they’re gone. They took them and probably done something to my truck too.”

  “I’ll have a patrol car go out to the apartments. Your truck could still be there.”

  “It better be. I know, I’ll ask him.”

  “I think it best I question him. In the meantime, you can drive my dad’s truck over to the ER and have one of them patrol cars come over here, and an ambulance. Tell them it’s Haggard.”

  “You can go, I’ll stay.”

  “Chuckling, Colt said, “I don’t think so.”

  “Fine, but find out what they done to my truck.” She spun around, headed toward his dad’s vehicle, got in and surprisingly took it easy instead of peeling out of the parking lot.

  “Douglas Haggard,” Colt stated sternly, flipping the light across the man’s bloody face. “Do you know where you are?”

  “Ah, no,” the deputy said lightly, squinting.

  Dropping to sit on his haunches, Colt switched the sharp beam off to the side. “Well, you’re a short distance away from a hospital’s ER’s entrance, lying on the pavement in some parking lot.”

  “Ah, hell, I said no hospital.”

  “Who did you say that to?”

  “None of your fuckin’ business.”

  “Was it someone you knew, picked you up after you flipped your vehicle over. Yeah, I know about that. And then they dumped you in some deserted parking lot like a bag of garbage. Who did that to you? Who picked you up?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “You got pretty banged up, didn’t you?” Colt placed his hand on Haggard’s ribcage, the exact same spot he winced at when getting patted down for weapons. Applying a minimal amount of pressure, he asked him again, “Who picked you up and dumped you here?”

  Squirming, Haggard spluttered, “Your girlfriend.”

  Leaning into him, Colt responded, “I don’t think so, you sure it wasn’t your friend Tom Ketch?”

  “Get off me,” Haggard screeched, “he’s not my friend.”

  “Well you got that right, dumping you like the piece of shit that you are.” Without backing off the pressure, Colt continued, “Where’s he at now, where’d he go?”

  “Look for Alaska.” Haggard’s hand fluttered as if trying to shoo him off.

  “Then where would he go? Where does he stay?”

  “His mother’s.”

  “And if he couldn’t stay there, where would he go?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Any cabins or a hide-out somewhere?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “What about a friend or a girlfriend? Give me a name?”

  “Mexico.”

  Headlights swerved into the parking lot, first a patrol car, an ambulance, and then Alaska. “Okay.” Colt stood. “The Calvary’s here.”

  After speaking to the officer and the paramedic, Colt got in the passenger side of his dad’s vehicle. Alaska never left the wheel. “Let’s go,” he said, “hospital.”

  “What did he say about my truck?” she asked.

  “Uh, nothing.”

  “Did you ask him?”

  “I asked a lot of questions.”

  “Well what’d he say?”

  “Mexico.”

  *****

  The state police field office operated out of a small brick building with flags flying out front. The area was aglow from lampposts. Normally, it’d be a foreboding place Alaska wouldn’t want to go into to but she had an official statement to make about what those evil people done to Blade, and to her and Colt. The tiny digital in the truck read three a.m. when they pulled into the lot where a couple of squad cars were parked along with a few regular cars.

  She didn’t hesitate to get out of the truck, had the passenger door opened before Colt cut the engine. She climbed out with her knee bandaged to the hilt.

  They were expecting them, but what Alaska wasn’t expecting, was to be separated from her soon-to-be fiancé who had helped her all day and knew just about everything she did.

  “Miss Roper, follow me.” The old trooper said half turned, beckoning her along as another trooper led Colt into a room.

  Instead of following the old geezer, she stopped in the doorway of an office that had plagues on the wall, a computer, piles of paperwork, and two chairs in front of the desk. Looking at the back of Colt’s head, she asked, “How come I’m not going in there with him?”

  Colt spun around to face her. “It’s procedure to separate people giving statements, that way they can see if the statements match.” And without giving her a peck of a kiss, nor a smile, nor a wink, he closed the door in her face.

  See if their statements match? What the hell’s going on? A flash of herself picking Blade up at the truck stop went through her mind. Crap.

  “Miss Roper, this way.”

  “Fine.” Alaska hobbled after the old trooper. He entered a room and held the door open for her. A sign read, Interview Room.

  Inside there was nothing but a long table. Oh hell. Scenes of movie interrogations haunted her. She’d better behave or she could end up in cuffs and leg irons. She took her time getting to her seat. What was Colt saying? He had to be lying to them, or he had lied to her when he told her that he wasn’t going to tell them she was guilty. In his words after she dropped Blade at the police station, not then and not now.

  Well she’s just not going to give this old crow a chance to harp about her aiding and abetting her brother for heaven’s sakes. “So you all got Whip Cunningham.” Alaska blurted in a positive tone as she sat in a cafeteria style chair. “You do know he’s guilty of faking his own death and my brother, Blade Roper, went to prison for killing him. But Whip’s not dead, is he? So you all should be releasing my brother right? He’s the victim here of a big life insurance scam. And I’ll tell you who’s all involved, starting with Esther Ketch, Whip’s aunt.”

  The trooper looked down at a clip board and began writing.

  “She began buying life insurance policies on Whip after Deputy Doug Haggard shot and killed Floyd Cunningham, Whip’s brother. As a matter of fact it’s on a disc and I think you all have it.”

  Without glancing at her the trooper nodded and said, “We do have a disc we are investigating.”

  “Apparently,” Alaska continued, “Esther, her son Tom, and her nephews were meth cookers and Haggard knew but instead of busting them he blackmailed them. Well they got tired of giving the deputy a lot of money all the time so they set him up on video, show that he was extorting them and the plan was to use that disc to make the deputy leave them alone but Haggard ended up killing Floyd while they were filming them. So evil Esther decided to blackmail Haggard with the video and make him assist her in a life insurance scam, hence my brother ends up in prison. Esther figured Whip’s death would look better if he was murdered.”

  Alaska caught her breath and rested her elbows on the table. “But Whip was spotted in Branson and Blade heard about it. He told me so I went to Branson with my boyfriend to find Whip and I did. But while we were in Whip’s apartment we got knocked out by Deputy Haggard who snuck up behind us.”

  The trooper s
topped writing and looked intently at her.

  “And when I came to, I was tied up and lying on the floor in some nasty little cabin. Whip and Tom were there and then Haggard and Esther came along. They all argued and Haggard pointed his gun in my face. Didn’t the sheriff or anyone know how psycho the deputy was?”

  “We’ll look into that,” the old man said gruffly.

  “Well anyway, my boyfriend Colt rescued me. And then I saw them putting Whip down a hole in the ground to dispose of him. Colt told me that’s what they had done to him but he escaped through a tunnel and came out in a cave. So me and Colt went back in and got Whip out. We all ended up at the Ketches’ residence, there was no where else to go. And that’s where Colt made the emergency call. Esther was at the house but Tom and Haggard were out looking for me, to kill me. Anyway, you all have Whip, and both Esther and Haggard are injured and at the hospital. But what about Tom Ketch, have you all arrested him yet?” Alaska leaned back and folded her arms. “He’s out there looking for me, to kill me.”

  The old geezer didn’t respond but kept gazing down at his clipboard.

  Alaska sighed. “Did you get all that?”

  He looked up. “Yes, were being recorded.” Then he proceeded to stare at her, didn’t say nothing.

  She broke eye contact and glanced at the closed door. “I guess I’m done here for now. I’m really very tired and I’m in pain.” She sighed and glanced back at him. “The doctor gave me some pills. I need to go home and go to bed.” She pushed her chair back and moved to get up.

  “We’re not done here,” he said. “Sit back down.”

  Crap. She plopped herself back on the chair.

  “Where did you pick up your brother?”

  “At a cave I figured he’d go to. Colt went with me; you know he’s a cop from Little Rock?”

  “Yes we know.” The old man brushed the clipboard aside and leaned back. “Where did you pick Blade up before he went to the cave?”

  Alaska blinked rapidly but stopped. “I just picked him up at the cave and you know what,” she bent forward over the table a bit, “Esther Ketch followed me there and shot at us with her shotgun! She almost killed us, Colt too.”