by Jeff Egerton
“They’ll miss you at meal time.”
“Not if you request to go to the infirmary for sick call. Complain of abdominal pains and request some blue bombers. It’s an antacid and you can’t eat for twenty four hours. That explains not being at the chow hall. You beat it for the laundry and you‘re home free.”
Thought of being a free man flooded Jones’ soul like an intoxicating liquor. Any apprehension about being caught, vanished. He saw himself sitting on a beach in Mexico, surrounded by raven haired beauties. And, he knew exactly who was going to fly him to Mexico. Then, revenge would be his.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
A week after the fiery emergency, Catwalk set his tray on the table in the employees cafeteria and asked Rosemary and Billy Sue, “Can I join you two?”
Rosemary beamed that smile that still took his breath away, and asked, “How was your flight?”
“Boring. What have you two been up to?”
Rosemary said, “Well, I went to the doctor this morning.”
Catwalk looked stunned. “Doctor? What for? Aren’t you feeling well?”
She stirred her coffee for a few seconds, then said, “Oh no. I feel fine. In fact, I don’t even feel pregnant.”
Catwalk dropped his roast beef sandwich into his soup and stared open mouthed. “Honey, are you serious?”
“Very serious. We have to start thinking about names.”
“Sweetheart, this is the best news you could have given me. Oh my God.” He turned to Billy Sue, “I’m going to be a father.”
She kissed him on the cheek and said, “I’m so glad for you two. You guys are going to have a beautiful baby.”
Rosemary said, “We have to think about getting married too. I got the papers making my divorce final yesterday.”
Catwalk said, “That’s wonderful. Just find a date when Curly and I are going to be in town long enough for a wedding.”
“I already have one.”
The escape from Collinsville prison went off like a well planned military operation. Once out, Jones ran through the countryside until he arrived at the rail tracks south of town. He waited next to a creek until he saw a slow freight approaching. Once aboard he sat back and looked at the magazine article from several years ago. Nothing could stop him now.
He eventually made his way to Dillard County and Larry Gustafson’s house. No one answered the door so he broke a window and entered the house. After a few minutes of searching he found a forty-five automatic and a thirty-two caliber pistol. He then took thirty dollars from a dresser drawer. In the kitchen he ate two pieces of chicken, then threw some leftovers in a bag. He grabbed a bottle of bourbon and a coat, then headed back to the tracks. He wanted to get out of town fast because once the escape was discovered, Dillard County was the first place they’d look for him. Jones hopped another train and dropped off at Midland where he checked into a flop house hotel.
He slept for four hours then walked to the airport. After putting on a hat and sun glasses, he asked a ramp worker, “You know where I can find Catwalk? Him and I used to work together at Rocky Mountain and I want to talk to him about a job.”
“He only flies in here occasionally. His offices are at Albuquerque Airport now.”
“Really? Is that where he runs the airline from?”
“Yeah. He outgrew Midland when he started his passenger service.”
Jones grinned and said, “Yeah, that’s ol’ Catwalk, always looking to get bigger. Thanks.” Jones then walked back to town, stole a Pontiac and left for Albuquerque.
Upon arriving Jones rented a room for a week and then left for the airport, where he watched the terminal entrance for a couple hours. When he didn’t see Catwalk, he returned to his room and plotted his scheme over dinner.
For the next two days Jones watched people come and go at the airport terminal. Finally, late the second day he saw Catwalk leaving the terminal. He saw him get into a black Chevy coupe. When Catwalk drove off, he was three cars behind him.
Jones followed Catwalk to his house, then found a parking lot where he could watch the house and get an idea of Catwalk’s routine. On the second day, he saw Catwalk leaving with a woman. He couldn’t believe his eyes—it was the same woman he’d shot at the farm. He swore out loud, “How the hell can that bitch be alive? I served fourteen fuckin’ years for her murder!”
Now, more than ever, Jones was determined to get Jackson to fly him to Mexico. Then he’d get rid of both of them for good, and live out his life as a free man.
The next day, Catwalk was driving home from work, when he told Rosemary, “I like Thomas Ray Jackson. It has a good ring to it and my Daddy would be proud to have his first grandson named after him. I know Mother will like that.”
“O.K., then. That settles it. Now we have to redecorate his room.”
“How are you so sure it’s going to be a boy?”
“Because it’s only proper that you have young pilot first, and then we’ll have a few girls to even things out.”
Catwalk smiled all the way home.
When he arrived home, however, his bliss was shattered by a phone call from his brother Cecil. “Luke, I thought you should know; Alton Jones escaped from prison last week. They’re conducting a search for him, but the sheriff thinks he left the area.”
“Thank you, Cecil. You’ll probably get more news about this than we will out here. Let me know if you hear anything else, O.K.”
“Sure thing, Luke.”
Catwalk thought about Jones being on the loose. Would Jones come after him again? Can one man carry that much hate for so long? He didn’t say anything to Rosemary, but he told Curly the next time he saw him.
Curly’s advice was, “Watch your back, Cat. Last time he showed up when we least expected it. Maybe you should start carrying a gun.”
Catwalk thought about Curly’s advice, but decided against arming himself. It had been almost fifteen years since he was put away and he just didn’t think that Jones would track him down after all this time.
Jones spent two days working out his plan and watching the terminal to see if he could pick up a pattern to Jackson’s routine. After the second day, he ditched the Pontiac so he didn’t get picked up on a stolen car charge. He’d steal another car the night before he put his plan into action. By the time they found it, he’d be south of the border in his own private airliner with his own private pilot.
On the fourth day, Jones decided to put his plan into action. Although he’d told himself to be patient, he was anxious to get out of the country and to get rid of Jackson and the woman. He waited in a coffee shop where he could watch Jackson’s house. After he saw Catwalk leave his home he waited another forty-five minutes then walked to the house.
He knocked on the door. When the woman answered the door, he stuck the automatic in her face and said, “Hello honey. You remember me?”
Rosemary looked puzzled at the question and terrified of the gun. She shook her head and backed slowly into the room. Trembling, she said, “Wh-What do you want?”
Now it was his turn to be confused. He said, “You don’t remember me, from the farm, back in 1934?”
“No, I….”
“Jesus Christ, lady. I shot you. You don’t remember that.”
It dawned on Rosemary who she was facing. The look on her face turned to one of hatred, and she said, “That was my sister, you bastard! You murdered my sister.”
Jones nodded slowly and with no remorse said, “Oh, now I see. So I shot your sister? Well, yeah, I guess I did.”
He then motioned for Rosemary to move and said, “Get over by the window.”
When Rosemary turned her back on him, he took a sap out of his pocket and knocked her unconscious.
Jones checked her pulse to make sure she was still breathing, then tied her up with a curtain cord. He then went down to the parking lot, found a Hudson with the keys in it and made sure there was room in the trunk for a body.
Jones wrapped a sheet around Rosemary and car
ried her out to the car. After putting her in the trunk, he drove to the airport. Wearing a ball cap, dark glasses and a jacket, he went into the administrative offices of Aztec Airways. He looked for Catwalk’s office, then waited in the lobby until the secretary went to the restroom. When she was gone he walked into Catwalk’s office.
The office was empty so Jones sat down behind Catwalk’s desk. He was prepared to wait as long as he needed.
Catwalk returned five minutes later. When he saw Jones, he froze and felt his heart rate shoot up. He said, “What do you want?”
Jones leaned back in the chair and put his feet on the desk. “Well, Mr. Big-shot-pilot, I’ll tell you what I want. I want a pilot to fly me to Mexico, so I can take a little vacation.”
“And if I refuse?”
Jones grinned. “You ain’t gonna refuse, because if you do, I’ll just leave that little girl of yours right where she is and by the time they find her, she’ll be dead from suffocation.”
Catwalk said, “You bastard. You’re bluffing.”
“Call your house. See if anyone answers.”
Wearing the grin of a man who held all the cards, Jones walked around the desk.
Catwalk dialed the phone and let it ring a long time. Fearing the worst, he hung up and said, “Where is she? What have you done with her?”
“Oh, she’s fine for now. And you can get her back. All you have to do is take one of your airplanes and fly me to Mexico.”
Catwalk opened the drawer with is spare pistol in it. He looked at the gun, then at Jones. Jones had the gun in his jacket pocket aimed at Catwalk. He shook his head and said, “I wouldn’t touch that pistol, or you’ll never see your lady alive again.”
Catwalk thought this through. If Jones had Rosemary, he had to do whatever Jones wanted. Anything else would jeopardize her and Jones had no qualms about killing women. He asked, “If I do this, when will you let her go?”
“Oh, I’ll untie her when we get in the plane. See, she’s going with us.”
Catwalk didn’t like that scenario, but he had no bargaining power. He closed the drawer and said, “As soon as I see that she’s alive and safe, I’ll get an airplane.”
The grin left Jones’ face. With a scowl he said, “No, you black bastard, that’s not what we’ll do. You’ll get a plane right now and once you tell me there is a plane available, you get to see her. Do you understand?”
Catwalk said, “Yes, I understand.” He then dialed flight operations. When a clerk answered, he said, “Charley, this is Catwalk. Do you have a DC-3 available? I’m going to take some people for a local flight.”
“Thanks, Charley.” He hung up the phone and told Jones, “There is a plane available.”
“Good. Now we can go see your little lady. I sure hope she’s still breathing.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
While Jones and Catwalk walked through the offices, on their way out of the building, the ex-con laughed and gabbed like they were old friends. No one noticed that Catwalk wasn’t laughing, or even smiling.
They walked to Hudson and Jones knocked on the trunk. “You O.K., honey?”
Catwalk heard a muffled voice and figured Jones had her gagged. He said, “Get her out of there.”
Jones showed him the gun in his jacket pocket and said, “Not so fast, pal. She gets out when we’re at the plane.”
Jones handed him the keys and said, “You drive. You drive straight to the plane we’re going to be taking and no tricks or I fill the trunk with bullets.”
Catwalk drove toward the DC-3 that Charley said was all fueled, but not due to be put into service until the next morning. He parked next to the plane and Jones opened the trunk.
Catwalk saw Rosemary, bound, gagged, and very scared. He reached in to lift her out of the trunk and said, “I’m here, honey. Everything is going to be O.K. We’re going to take a plane ride.”
Jones said, “Shut up and get in the plane.”
Curly had tried calling Cat’s office, but when he got no answer, he walked to it and asked Cat’s secretary, “Where’s the boss?”
“I’m not sure, Curly. He left a few minutes ago with that old friend of his. He didn’t say where they were going.”
“O.K., I’ll talk to him later.” Curly walked a few steps, then stopped and turned. With some trepidation, he asked, “Maggie, describe this friend of Cat’s.”
When the secretary described the man she’d seen, Curly knew at once that it was Jones. And he realized why he was here. He said, “Are you sure you don’t know where they went? Did Cat say anything?”
“No. They just walked out.”
“Which door?”
“Employees parking lot.”
Curly ran for the door. Once outside he looked for Cat’s car; it was still in his parking space. That meant Jones had a car. They didn’t have much of a head start, but if they drove off the airport, they could have gone anywhere and he’d never find them. He walked into the parking lot and looked around the field, looking for anything out of the ordinary. He saw the Hudson, parked near a DC-3, where no cars were allowed. He knew immediately that Jones was making Catwalk fly him somewhere.
He jumped into his car and tore out of the parking lot, heading for the parachute loft. He had an idea, but he needed time and he needed to get on the plane. Catwalk wouldn’t be able to start taxiing for about five minutes. He hoped that was enough time for him to put his plan in motion.
Jones herded Catwalk and Rosemary into the plane. He told Catwalk, “All right, fly boy, get this thing off the ground and don’t give me any stuff about having to get fuel. I checked and found out that planes are always fueled right after they land.”
Catwalk headed for the cockpit and said, “We’ve got fuel, but these engines have to warm up before I can start taxiing.”
“Get ‘em started then. As soon as they’re warm, we take off. Set your course for Acapulco.”
Catwalk started engines, then went through the checklist. While doing this, he frantically thought of how he was going to subdue Jones without getting himself or Rosemary shot.
Curly saw the engines turning on the DC-3. He also noticed the door was still open so Catwalk wasn’t ready to taxi yet. He prayed that he found Cat in the plane and not some mechanic who was taking the plane for a maintenance test flight.
He parked so Catwalk would see him from the cockpit and walked toward the open door. Once he reached the door he climbed the steps and entered the plane. He threw the parachute he’d picked up into the plane and acted surprised when he saw Jones and Rosemary sitting in the cabin.
Jones pointed the pistol at Curly and said, “Hold it right there.”
Curly said, “What the hell are you doing here?”
Jones walked up to Curly and said, “It’s been a long time friend.” He then punched Curly in the jaw. “You can go with us, pal, since I should have shot you back in Dillard.”
Curly went down and Jones kicked him several times, then said, “This is your lucky day, friend. You’ll get to die with your good buddy and his lady.”
Rosemary yelled, “Oh, God help us!”
Jones yelled, “Shut up, bitch.” He then yelled to the cockpit, “Let’s go, you ain’t gotta warm them engines all day long.”
Catwalk stood up and looked back in the cabin. When he saw Curly, with blood dripping from his jaw, he said, “What brings you to the party?”
“I remembered this plane didn’t have any parachutes. I stopped by the parachute loft, but I could only get one, so I dropped it off. It looks like my timing wasn’t too good.”
Jones said, “Cut the talking.” He held the gun on Catwalk, “Close the door and get this thing in the air.”
“When I close this door will you untie my wife?”
“She gets untied when we’re in the air.”
Catwalk closed the door and headed for the cockpit. He thought about what Curly had said. He suspected Curly was trying to tell him something, but what? He thought about the parachute. They
didn’t normally carry parachutes on the DC-3s, only the older cargo planes. So why had Curly brought a parachute to this plane, and why just one?
As he was tying up Curly, Jones yelled, “What’s taking so long, Jackson?”
“I’ve got to get clearance to taxi.”
Jones walked to the cockpit and said, “God damn it, you better not be pulling any of your shit or I’ll drill that lady, just like I did her sister.”
Catwalk grit his teeth. He saw Sam going down after being shot. The thought that Jones could easily do the same to Rosemary made his blood run cold. It took every ounce of resolve to keep him from grabbing Jones by the neck and pummeling him. Instead he acknowledged ground control by saying, “Roger ground, Aztec three-four-seven is taxiing to runway three-four.”
He told Jones, “We’re taxiing now.”
Jones said, “Good job, Jackson. Next stop Acapulco.” He then went back to the cabin where Curly and Rosemary were tied up in their seats.
Catwalk taxied slower than normal to give himself time to think. Once at the runway, he went through his magneto checks twice. What had Curly been trying to tell him?
Finally, he couldn’t stall any longer. He called the tower, “Albuquerque Tower, this is Aztec three-four-seven ready to depart runway three-four, VFR to the south.”
“Aztec three-four-seven, Albuquerque. Wind three-two-zero at seven, runway three-four, cleared for take-off. Left turn out of traffic approved.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Catwalk took off and followed the Rio Grande River southbound until he picked up the El Paso range station. He then crossed El Paso and tracked outbound due south. As he flew he thought of ways to overcome Jones, but most of his plans were flawed. He considered climbing to a higher altitude until Jones passed out from lack of oxygen, but that would affect everyone else and he couldn’t tell them to go on oxygen without Jones knowing it.
He thought over and over again about the parachute Curly brought to the plane. Surely there must have been a reason behind it. So what was Curly’s plan to put it to use? Why only one chute; their parachute loft had forty or fifty chutes on hand, but Curly brought only one. Who had he planned on using it?