JD04 - Reasonable Fear

by Scott Pratt

  “So if you wanted to kill them legally, you’d have to wait for them to come to you.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. The law says a person can use deadly force, but the language is tricky. I’d have to be in ‘reasonable fear’ of serious bodily harm or death, and the legal definition of reasonable is indecipherable. Nobody knows what it really means, and I don’t have any intention of getting myself into a situation where I might wind up at the mercy of a jury.”

  “But you’re the district attorney, dad,” Jack said. “You’re not going to prosecute yourself.”

  “If I hunt these guys down and kill them, there will be an investigation. I’m not exactly the fair-haired child with the political crowd right now. If the investigation shows that I was on the offensive, they’ll get a special prosecutor and charge me with murder. I’m not up for that.”

  “If you arrest them, how do you know more won’t come?” Bo said.

  “I don’t. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly what Pinzon said will happen.”

  “So you’re going to have to kill them,” Jack said. “Them and this Lipscomb guy, too. What other choice do you have?”

  I looked at him for several seconds. “I honestly don’t know,” I said.

  “What a mess,” Bo said.

  “Let’s go back to the house. I need to say goodbye and get back on the road.”

  “You boys go on ahead. I’ll be along in a little while.”

  Jack and I started walking slowly up the hill. He kept glancing at me, and I knew he had more to say.

  “Spit it out,” I said.

  “I know you,” he said. “You’re worried about how you’ll feel if you have to kill somebody.”

  “I can’t kill anybody, Jack. It’s like you said a few minutes ago. I’m the district attorney. I’m supposed to keep order by enforcing the rule of law through the courts, not by violence. And you’re right. I am worried about how I’d feel if I killed someone. I don’t see how I could live with myself.”

  He was quiet for a little while, but as were drawing close to the house, he said, “We can’t stay here forever. Eventually, we all have to go back. Lipscomb knows that. All he has to do is be patient. If he wants to kill us and he has all this money and power, he can do it. So let me ask you one more question. How would you live with yourself if Lipscomb or these men he’s supposedly hired managed to find us and kill us?”

  I looked into his eyes, and at that moment, that miniscule tick in time, I knew what I had to do. He didn’t have to say another word.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Lilly had made use of Bo’s library and was reading in the den when Jack and I walked back into the house.

  “C’mon,” I said to her, and she closed the book and followed us.

  Caroline was in the kitchen with Melinda watching Sarah feed Gracie. I stood looking at them for a couple of minutes, then I looked at Jack and Lilly, both of whom were standing beside me. This group of six was my family. All of it. I had no grandparents, no cousins, no aunts or uncles, no in-laws. Melinda and I weren’t particularly close, but she was my wife’s mother and I felt the same obligation to her that I felt to the rest.

  Would I die for them?

  The answer was yes.

  Would I kill for them?

  If I had to.

  “I need to get going,” I said to Caroline.

  “I know,” she said without looking up.

  Sarah wiped Gracie’s face with a napkin, got up from her seat at the table and walked around to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck in a rare show of affection.

  “I want my little girl to be just like my brother,” she whispered. “I want her to be brave and strong.”

  “I’m sorry, Sarah,” I said. “I’m sorry you got dragged into this.”

  “It’ll be over soon.” She pecked me on the cheek and stepped back.

  Caroline was next. She cupped my face in her hands and smiled.

  “Come back to me,” she said.

  I fought to hold back tears and squeezed her tightly.

  “I will.”

  Jack and Lilly gathered close to us and draped their arms over our shoulders. I could hear Lilly sniffling. We stayed locked in an embrace for a long time, none of us wanting to let go, none of us wanting to say goodbye.

  “I love you,” I said. “I love all of you with all my heart.”

  “Please let me go with you,” Jack said quietly.

  “You have to take care of my girls.”

  I took the deepest breath I’d ever taken in my life and broke away. I hugged Melinda, leaned over and kissed Gracie on the forehead, and walked out the door.

  Bo was lingering next to the van. The back doors were open.

  “I gathered a few toys for you,” he said as I approached.

  “Toys?”

  “I was active duty for twenty years, hillbilly. You don’t think I’d walk away empty-handed, do you? Here, let me show you.”

  A wooden crate about half the size of a casket was in the back of the van. Bo lifted the lid.

  “You remember how to use these, don’t you?”

  I stared into the crate, wide-eyed. “Are those what I think they are?”

  “Yeah, but they’re a little different these days.”

  Bo gave me a brief tutorial on the equipment. I knew all of the basics, but there were a couple of modern refinements that took only a few minutes to learn. He’d packed the crate with clothing, too, and I pulled out a pair of camo utility pants.

  “Think they’ll fit?” I said.

  “Doesn’t look like you’ve gone pork chop on me yet.”

  “I hope I don’t have to use any of this stuff,” I said as I started to climb in the van.

  “Me, too, but better to have it than not, right?”

  “I guess so. Thanks.”

  I looked toward the house. They were standing on the front porch. I could see that Caroline and Lilly were crying while Jack and Sarah were doing their best to remain stoic. Melinda had stayed inside with Gracie.

  “They’ll be fine,” Bo said. “Don’t worry about a thing.”

  “If something happens to me—”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to you. You’re a Ranger.”

  “It was a long time ago, Bo.”

  “Doesn’t matter. I remember what you were like when bullets started to fly, and I doubt you’ve changed. Are you going to have any help when you get back down there?”

  “I hope so.”

  “Sure you don’t want me to tag along?”

  “It’s not your fight, buddy.”

  “You ought to at least take that shepherd with you.”

  “Nah, he’s my buddy too. I don’t want to put him in harm’s way.”

  I started the van and put it in reverse, taking a long, last look at the people on the porch. My eyes started to water again.

  “I’ll see you soon, hillbilly,” Bo said. “Go give ‘em hell.”

  As soon as I got on the road, I dialed Bates’ number.

  “It’s Dillard,” I said when he picked up.

  “Where are you?”

  “Driving. I’m on my way back. We need to get together as soon as I get there and figure out a plan.”

  “What kind of plan?”

  “A plan to deal with this case. To deal with Lipscomb.”

  “There is no case. Zack Woods and Hector Mejia, your best witnesses, are dead. Nelson Lipscomb is missing in action. It’s over.”

  I noticed he said “your best witnesses” instead of “our best witnesses” and wondered whether he was trying to distance himself. Leon Bates was not only a good sheriff, he was a master politician. He had excellent instincts when it came to figuring out which way the political winds were blowing, and they certainly weren’t blowing in my direction.

  “You got any idea what’s been going on around here while you been off doing whatever it is you’re doing?” he said. “The press is going nuts. The politicians are all over me. My office was bug
ged, my house was bugged, my car was even bugged.”

  “I know all that, Leon. Pinzon came to see me at the hospital last night. He told me about the surveillance. That’s why the FBI came and checked everything out. We have to find a way to make a case on Lipscomb. Otherwise, he’s going to—”

  “Pinzon told you?”

  “Yeah. He told me a lot. He’s gone, too. He’s hiding.”

  “Then Lipscomb is the last man standing. He’s the only one who hasn’t run.”

  “Pinzon didn’t run from us. He ran from Lipscomb. And Nelson didn’t run, either. Pinzon says he’s dead.”

  “You know something, Dillard? I think maybe Pinzon is playing you for a fool.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Have you forgotten about the phone call Nelson made from the cruiser? And what about Zack Woods? He identified Lipscomb. Hector saw him get on the boat. He killed those girls, Leon. I know it and you know it. We still have Turtle, and if we can get Lipscomb to trial, I think I can convince Pinzon to testify against him.”

  “You got no case, counselor. My advice is you get your butt back here and forget any of this ever happened. And you better start shoring up your end on the political side. There are a lot of people calling for your scalp. They—”

  “Leon! Listen to me! Pinzon says Lipscomb has hired people to kill me, to kill my entire family.”

  “Is that a fact? Has it occurred to you that Pinzon might be pulling your chain? He’s the Colombian. He’s the one that would know how to hire men from Colombia for a hit.”

  “No, you don’t understand. When he came to the hospital, Pinzon told me what happened on the boat. He told me all about his history with John Lipscomb. They dealt drugs together for years. They made millions. Lipscomb knows all about the Colombians. He’s closer to them than Pinzon ever was.”

  “And you believe everything he told you?”

  “Yeah, Leon. I do.”

  “He and Nelson are probably sitting on a beach somewhere drinking fruity rum with little umbrellas in the glass. They’re probably laughing at all of us.”

  “They’ve gotten to you, haven’t they? Who was it? The governor?”

  “A lot of people – a lot of powerful people – think you’re using Lipscomb as a career builder.”

  “But you know better, don’t you?”

  “Doesn’t matter. The bottom line here is that this turns out bad for Joe Dillard no matter what. And if I stay with you, it turns out bad for Leon Bates, too. You can’t prove your case against John Lipscomb. You’re going to have to dismiss it, and when you do, the hammer is going to fall. I’m thinking seriously about putting out a press release tomorrow that says I’ve done my best to be loyal to the district attorney through this entire affair, but that circumstances now lead me to believe that he is engaging in a personal vendetta against John Lipscomb and consequently the sheriff’s department will offer no further assistance.”

  “You’re kidding me, right? This is a joke.”

  “Afraid not. All the signs have been there, but I’ve been too close. I haven’t been able to see the forest for the trees.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You start off by treating the governor of the state like a bastard stepchild, then you barge into Lipscomb’s office and damned near attack him. You make a decision to indict three men on thin evidence, you insist that they be hauled up here in a prison van, and then you assault Lipscomb at the jail. You top it all off by passing out flat on your face in the courtroom in front of God and everybody, and then you disappear. I may have been blind before, but I see the light now. You’re unstable, Dillard. You might even be crazy.”

  “You know something, Leon?”

  “What’s that?”

  “You’re about to find out just how crazy I can be.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  My next call was to Erlene Barlowe’s cell. I asked her to wait for me after her club closed. If I pushed it, I could be there by three in the morning.

  I crossed the Tennessee border a little after midnight and rolled into the back parking lot at the Mouse’s Tail around 3:00 a.m. I’d called Erlene again ten minutes earlier and she said she’d be waiting. I’d never been inside the Mouse’s Tail but I had fond memories of that back parking lot. It was there that Erlene had handed me a quarter of a million dollars in a gym bag several years ago – my fee for defending a young friend of hers who had been accused of murder back before I became a prosecutor. I pulled up to the back door and waited less than a minute before I saw her walking out, dressed in a tight, sequined red top with a red boa around her neck, black spandex pants and spiked heels. She walked up to the driver’s side window.

  “Are you okay, sugar?” Erlene said. “Last time I saw you were face down in the courtroom.”

  “I’m fine. Can you go for a ride?”

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  She walked around, climbed in, and I pulled back onto the road.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Erlene said. “What are you doing out at this time of the night?”

  “Sit back. It’s a long story.”

  I recounted the story of Pinzon’s visit to the hospital, the surveillance at my house, the threats, the Colombian killers who were supposed to be on their way to kill my family, and the trip to Michigan. I also told her everything Pinzon had said about Lipscomb.

  “So he killed them,” she said. “You’re sure of it.”

  “Afraid so, and it looks like he’s going to get away with it. I’ll never get him to trial, Erlene, and even if I do, I’ll never convict him. He’s already killed three girls, two witnesses and his brother. He’s going to try to kill me, and there’s a chance he might come after you. I know you didn’t see him that night, but you and your bouncer can link Nelson to the girls, and if John thinks it might still get back to him somehow. . . I’m not trying to scare you, but it’s something you should think about.”

  “Don’t worry about scaring me, sugar. The man I’m afraid of hasn’t been born yet.”

  “Pinzon said the only way to stop Lipscomb is to get rid of him. I don’t think I can do it. At least I don’t think I could do it and get away with it.”

  “I don’t reckon you could.”

  “How do you feel about revenge, Erlene?”

  She contemplated the question for a few seconds.

  “You know, my granddaddy, God rest his soul, used to have these sayings about revenge. He’d say, ‘Child, the best revenge is to live well,’ or, ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold.’ But you know something? My granddaddy always reminded me of a cow standing in a field chewing her cud. My granny walked all over him and so did anybody else that took a notion. I never put much stock in the things he said.”

  “I know what you mean. I’ve never been one to let people trample on me.”

  “Me either.”

  “There’s one more thing. It looks like Sheriff Bates has bailed on me. He said he thinks I’m crazy.”

  She let out a little whistle. “I swan,” she said. “I knew that man was more politician than lawman. I reckon I’ll have a little surprise for him next time he comes sniffing around here. Maybe a hidden camera.”

  “Bates? Bates comes out here?”

  “You didn’t hear that from me, sugar.”

  “I guess everybody has their secrets.”

  “What are you planning to do, sweetie?” Erlene said. “I mean, you said your family’s all tucked away safe and sound, but you’re back here. You’re up to something.”

  Erlene put on the air of a southern belle – even if the belle was a little on the sleazy side – but I knew what was underneath the façade. She was a tough, intelligent woman who existed on the fringe of lawlessness. During the time leading up to the trial of the friend of hers I defended, a key prosecution witness wound up dead of an apparent drug overdose, but I always suspected Erlene was behind it.

  “I’m going to take care of the Colombians myself, but that still leaves Lip
scomb. What are the chances of you helping me out with him?”

  “You know something? I think somebody John Lipscomb has wronged may just decide to take matters into her own hands. Somebody who knows how to get things done.”

  “I hope whoever it is acts fast.”

  She reached across, put her hand on my arm, and squeezed.

  “Have faith, baby doll,” she said. “It’s a powerful thing.”

  PART III

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  A half-hour later, I parked the van in a stand of trees a half-mile from the house, got out, and walked around to the back. I opened the crate Bo had given me and pulled out a set of camouflage fatigues, a pair of jungle boots, a black stocking cap, a pair of gloves, a flashlight, and some web gear. I reached back into the crate and grabbed an M-16 assault rifle that was equipped with a thermal imaging sight, four thirty-round clips of ammo, and a sheathed, Yarborough knife. I used electrical tape from the crate to tape the Yarborough to the web gear and clipped the flashlight on. I stuck three of the clips into an ammo pouch, slapped the other one into the receiver, pulled back the charging handle to load a round into the chamber, made sure the safety was engaged, and started walking cross-country through the woods.

  It was chilly and there was a stiff breeze. My earlobes began to tingle so I pulled the stocking cap down farther on my head. It was terrain I’d walked many times, a large tract owned by the Tennessee Valley Authority that was adjacent to my property. I made my way slowly through the darkness, fallen leaves dry and crackling beneath my feet, until I came to the trail that I ran on several times a week. I followed the trail along the bluff above the lake and knelt at the edge of the woods about a hundred yards from the house. I stayed there without moving, listening to every sound, until around 5:00 a.m. The house, with the exception of a couple of lights Caroline and I had left on, was dark and still. Nothing stirred – no insects, no animals, no birds, nothing. It was as though I was the only living creature on earth.