by Bobby Cole
“I know,” Kelly interrupted. “Don’t say anything. I know. Brooke told me all about it. How you didn’t show up.” Shaking her head, she continued, “It doesn’t matter. The important thing is we’re together now. Really together.”
Someone pounded on the side of the ambulance and hollered, “Chopper’s ready!”
“Let’s get the hell outta here,” Cooper said. He then noticed the digital clock in the ambulance and pointed it out to Kelly. It read 1:11 p.m. She smiled, her bottom lip quivering. He kissed her affectionately.
“Is he gonna be okay?” she asked the paramedic, looking at the fresh white bandages.
“He’ll live, but we need to get the wound flushed and better debrided,” she responded with a warm smile and then deposited her bloody surgical gloves into the biohazard waste receptacle.
With relieved expressions on their faces, Obermeyer, the district attorney, and the commander stood outside the helicopter’s rotor wash, watching the players in the week’s drama. As Kelly was helped into the helicopter, Obermeyer stared off into the night sky.
“What is it now, O?” the commander asked with a sigh.
“Well, ma’am… we’ve still got Sammy Davis Junior, Oprah Winfrey, and Larry King to deal with, and I’ve got this naggin’ feelin’ there’s something I’m missin’ or forgot.”
“Obermeyer, for goodness’s sake, please don’t tell us to stand by,” the commander said, smiling wryly.
The district attorney was listening and couldn’t help interjecting. “The way I see it, MPD’s best detective here just won a gun battle with the brains behind a kidnapping that made national news and an established serial rapist… and he did it on his terms, by the book. Let’s be thankful for what we have now—what’s been accomplished here today. O can work on the rest of it tomorrow,” the DA proudly stated and placed supportive hands on each of their backs. “And why don’t y’all go meet with the press. You both deserve it.”
CHAPTER 115
The medical techs carefully loaded Kelly into the helicopter and buckled her harness. Brooke and Grayson were already seated, holding each other’s hands. Cooper carried Dixie, who was quivering, and climbed into the seat next to Kelly. The rotor noise was so loud in the Bell 206L that he could barely hear what anyone was saying.
“I’m Joe Wilson. I’ll be flying y’all to the ER. Glad to have you aboard,” the helicopter pilot said, looking over his shoulder at the group.
“Hope you don’t mind having a dog on board,” Cooper asked as he put his good arm around Dixie, who was still shaking but calmed down some once the door was shut. Cooper wasn’t leaving Coosa County without her.
“No problem. Man’s best friend. If you don’t believe it, lock your wife and your dog in the trunk of your car, ride around for about an hour, and then see who’s the most excited to see you.”
“I’m bettin’ the dog!” Brooke said with a smile and a wink at the pilot that made everyone laugh.
“You got that right!” Joe Wilson responded and then gave the thumbs-up signal, saying, “Y’all ready?”
Everyone nodded or said, “Yes, sir!”
With all that had gone on in the last week, and having actually been locked in a trunk, Brooke smiled and chuckled with relief. The joke served to break the tension of the events for her. She looked across at Cooper who made eye contact. They knew what almost happened between them. Cooper’s thoughts drifted to all that Mark had said about Brooke, but looking at her, he was having a hard time believing that she was involved. Obviously, she said something comforting to Kelly, and that’s all he cared about at the moment. Brooke appeared to be genuinely happy for them. She kissed Grayson on the forehead and then reassuringly looked at Cooper, smiled and mouthed, “Thank you.” She began to cry.
Cooper nodded and squeezed Kelly tighter as Dixie licked his hand.
Obermeyer had given back Cooper’s cell phone before he climbed inside the helicopter so that he could call his family. It buzzed at the receipt of a text. It was from Gates. The text read: “great news don’t have to sell tower bookie n deep shit w feds will forgive debt if i help explain later”
Kelly noticed him reading the text and asked, “Everything okay?”
“Yes. Yes it is. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”
The helicopter slowly started its ascent. Cooper saw Kelly’s bottom lip quivering as she looked down at the antebellum house, the various pockets of people, the news vans, and the flashing lights of the medical and law enforcement vehicles. She held the duck band on her necklace with one hand and Cooper’s good hand with the other. She smiled when their eyes met as tears welled once again.
Once the helicopter reached a safe altitude, it banked hard to the south and accelerated. Instantly, the scenery changed. Cooper was leaving behind the past, racing toward his kids, waiting at the hospital, and an almost unspeakable gift—the opportunity to get right.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
Clarence “Mad Dog” Armstrong had vowed to never again work outside his area of expertise. That was until the oil spill in the Gulf. Soon after it happened, he bought two of the oldest trawlers on the coast and became an instant shrimper and eventually a spillionaire. It didn’t seem to matter that he had never dragged a net. The tag on his restored vintage, full-size Hummer read: THX BP. He and Jesse Ray were planning their next big job.
Jesse Ray made a small fortune helping Clarence with the spill boondoggle and planned to purchase a Radio Shack franchise. He continued working e-mail and Internet scams—his latest for bogus virus-protection upgrades. Chances are you’ve received an e-mail from him or have been redirected to one of his web pages when trying to visit one of your favorite Internet sites.
Jenny and Maynard dated for a few months, and then married in a simple ceremony. He hasn’t dressed like Larry King since the kidnapping job but is still addicted to teeth-whitening strips. The newlyweds recently closed on a run-down twenty-acre horse farm in Okaloosa County, Florida. Jenny is happier than ever, busier than ever, but she often misses her partners in crime. Maynard is happy just to be with Jenny every day. To Jenny’s utter delight and amusement, he dresses like Tim McGraw.
Detective Obermeyer’s legend and career were cemented after solving the kidnapping and serial rapist cases. Actually, there were a number of inconsistencies and much confusion during the forensic examinations of the bodies and crime scene with respect to who actually shot whom. The Powers That Be decided that it was in everyone’s best interest to keep it all quiet. Obermeyer became the public beneficiary of the closed files. He continues to fight crime locally and occasionally teaches detail management courses at municipal police academies around the South. Frequently he pauses and “stands by” while he tries to determine who actually kidnapped Kelly Dixon. That mystery still bothers him.
As a condition of his plea agreement, Gates Ballenger checked into rehab. He was clean and sober for three months. Work became his new addiction, doing twelve-hour days securing and maintaining clients for the Tower Agency. He can be heard weekly, calling into the Paul Finebaum radio show, expressing his opinions on college football. His analyses are seldom accurate.
Mitchell Holmes was due in court for multiple counts of racketeering and money laundering. He was facing significant prison time if convicted. The odds, however, were better than even that he would get the minimum sentence since the judge hearing the case owed a favor to the elder Mr. Ballenger.
Brooke Layton was humiliated by her ex-husband and embarrassed at her own intentions. So as soon as she could, she and Grayson moved to Tallahassee, Florida, where she works for a large graphic design firm. Grayson saw a counselor once a week for a couple of months and made remarkable progress. The neighborhood they moved into has three stocked lakes, so Grayson, accompanied by his new dog, Dixie Girl, fishes almost every day.
Millie and Haywood Brown sold the biggest part of the property to a conservation organization and retired. They kept enough money for them
to live on comfortably, set up a trust fund for the children at their church, and gave the balance to the Southern Baptist Convention missionary fund. Unbeknownst to Cooper, Millie retained two hundred beautiful, wooded acres of her home place, with an excellent pond site, for him. The Browns planned to surprise Cooper and Kelly with the deed to it in five years, on the Dixons’ twentieth wedding anniversary.
Cooper and Kelly Dixon worked hard at their marriage and were both surprised at how easy it actually was once they both made the effort. They can be seen around Montgomery each Thursday evening on their date night. Kelly has been seen fishing with Cooper, and he was recently spotted under an umbrella at the beach with her, although he was nose deep reading Gamekeepers magazine. Their friends say that they look happier than ever.
Dixie never stowed away in the back of Cooper’s truck again. Nowadays she can be found lying on a therapeutic dog bed inside the comfort of the Dixon home.
Jubal Daniels inherited Don Daniels’s estate and Mark Wright’s by default. He kept the old home place but immediately sold all remaining assets. The bank went to a large, regional financial institution based in Louisiana. With several National Geographic magazines as travel guides, he purchased a bus ticket to New Orleans for a seven-day paddle-wheeler cruise up the Mississippi River to St. Louis. He then hopped on Amtrak to see the giant Redwoods in California. He hasn’t been seen since.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I love the idea of engaging and entertaining readers enough that they keep turning pages past their bedtimes. That’s why I write, and I’m humbled when they take time to contact me or post a review on Amazon. It’s also equally humbling to have so many people promote my stories and do what they can to help advance my writing career—some barely know me; others go back many years. All are very much appreciated. Thank you!
Kyle Jennings and his wife, Jill Conner Browne, liked what I had to say from early on and encouraged me to write before anyone was willing to read the stories. Kyle is an excellent editor and business manager and, thankfully, he handles all the gritty details, allowing me to concentrate on storytelling.
Terry Goodman and the entire Amazon and Thomas & Mercer team are simply amazing. I can’t thank them enough for all of their support here and abroad.
My wife, Melissa, and daughter, Jessi, have been constant and consistent supporters. They both allow me to bounce random ideas off them, and they give me honest critiques, along with no small amount of concerned looks. And I’m grateful to them for allowing me to disappear many nights and weekends while I try to piece together a cohesive story. My wife wishes that I’d write love stories, and Jessi would prefer something with vampires, but both seem to have come to grips with my preferred genre. Thank y’all. I love you both more than I can express here.
I’ll never forget taking my mother, Peggy Cole, to the Pike Road Library book signing near Montgomery, Alabama, and how happy she was to listen to me talk about my books. I thank you, Mom, for your unwavering love and for your many Montgomery area friends and their support. And a special thanks to Barbara Bryan and Deborah Speigner—as far as sisters go, I can’t imagine any better.
A profound and extraordinary thanks to my Mossy Oak family, who have always been incredibly supportive of my writing. A man couldn’t ask for a better place to work or for a better employer than the Haas family. Both are truly special. My friends at Alabama Farmers Co-op have also been very supportive, and for that I am genuinely grateful.
To the exceptional folks of West Point, Mississippi, a heartfelt thank-you for the enthusiasm you have displayed for my stories, especially Ginger and Randy Weimer and Connie Hudson.
Thanks again to those who have suffered through very rough drafts: Dr. Bill Billington, Robbie Speigner, Art Shirley, Traci LaChance, Jon Sverson, Tim Brooks, Norman Snead, Jesse Raley, and Page Todd. I appreciate all of the great feedback.
A particular thank-you to David Housel: a voracious reader, who discovered my stories by word of mouth years ago and now may be my most ardent supporter.
Thanks goes to the countless readers of The Dummy Line and Moon Underfoot who made the effort to find my e-mail address and contact me. Now you can reach me on Facebook at Bobby Cole Books.
Finally, a big thank-you to all of you who told friends and family about my writings and who e-mailed links, gave books as gifts, invited me to book clubs and book signings, and, in general, encouraged me at every opportunity. I could never name everyone, but you know who you are. It’s my sincere hope and prayer that you enjoyed this story too.
AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
Bobby Cole is a native of Montgomery, Alabama, and president of Mossy Oak® BioLogic®. Additionally, he is an avid wildlife manager, hunter, and active supporter of the Catch-A-Dream™ Foundation. He lives with his wife and daughter in West Point, Mississippi. Bobby is also the author of the novels The Dummy Line and Moon Underfoot.