On the Lam

by SUE FINEMAN

  Mary stared at Greg. “Why am I sitting here in the jailhouse?”

  “If I find out you’re hiding a fugitive from justice, you’d better get used to being behind bars, because you’ll spend a few years in prison. Strip searches, lousy food, slave labor, and women who’d stick a shiv in you if you looked at them funny.”

  Mary’s face paled and Greg pushed on. “This is Bo, my new deputy. Tommy Ray tried to kill him today, ran his car off the road, and shot at him. He got away, but he’s bleeding.”

  She gasped. “You shot the sheriff?”

  “He’s no longer the sheriff,” said Bo. “Tommy Ray Caldwell is a criminal. He’s wanted by the FBI for questioning in a murder case in Dallas, he’s wanted for assaulting Callie in Tampa, and he’s wanted for blackmail, for trying to trade a little boy for the gold we found on the ranch. And now—”

  “Now he’s wanted for attempted murder.” Greg leaned forward and propped his forearms on his knees. “This is the way it works, Mary. If you don’t cooperate and tell us where he is, you’ll be charged and tried as an accessory.” He pulled a card from his pocket and read Mary her rights. “Do you understand your rights, Mary?”

  She jumped to her feet. “That lying little fool is trying to ruin Tommy Ray. He wouldn’t beat on her.”

  Greg called, “Randy, bring me that file from Tampa.”

  Randy handed it to Greg, and Greg pulled out a picture of Callie after Tommy Ray had beaten her. He passed it through the bars and read the doctor’s report. “Concussion, two black eyes, separated shoulder, cracked ribs, and other assorted cuts and bruises. She spent three days in the hospital, and I know for a fact that her shoulder still bothers her. It probably always will.”

  Greg handed her a picture of Bo’s car lying in the ditch. “Tommy Ray did this less than an hour ago. It was a miracle my brother got out of that car alive.”

  “He wouldn’t do anything if Callie would go back to him.”

  Bo looked away. Tommy Ray had convinced this stupid woman that everything was Callie’s fault, and Mary wanted to believe it because she hated Callie.

  Greg passed another picture through the bars. This time, Mary’s eyes filled with pity. “Mary, does a seven-year-old boy deserve to be beaten badly enough to leave scars like these? You have kids. Does your husband whip them like this?”

  “No, sir. John would never... You’re saying Tommy Ray did this?”

  “Help us put an end to this nightmare and you can go free. Tell us where to find Tommy Ray Caldwell. If you don’t, you’ll stand trial and then go to prison, and I promise you won’t like it there.”

  Mary’s lips pressed tightly together and she shook her head. “I want a lawyer.”

  Bo handed her his cell phone and backed away from the cell while she made her phone call. He retrieved the phone a minute later.

  “John ain’t home right now,” Mary told him. “I’ll have to try again later.”

  In the other room, Bo punched the recall button and handed the phone to Greg. The phone number she’d dialed was not her husband’s.

  “Bo, I do believe you’re sneakier than me.” Greg showed him a note from a man who had taken his wife on an extended vacation. The man notified the sheriff’s office so they could keep an eye on the house while they were gone. The phone number on the bottom of the note matched the number Mary had just called.

  They’d found Tommy Ray’s hiding place.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bo stood in the kitchen doorway watching Callie take the roast out of the oven and slide the biscuits in. She turned to get a serving plate and her mouth dropped open. “Bo. Ohmygod, you’re here.”

  He scooped her against him and kissed her thoroughly. And then she saw the bruise on his neck and worry filled her violet eyes. “What happened?” She ran her finger lightly over the bruise.

  “Bo had a little accident between here and the ranch,” said Greg. “His car ended up in the ditch.”

  “Oh, poor baby.” She pulled out a chair for him to sit in, pulled the shirt collar away from his neck, and examined the bruise more closely. “Is this from the seatbelt?”

  “Probably. The airbag hit me in the face and the seatbelt tightened. I’m okay, Callie. Just hungry for your cooking.”

  “But you’re hurt, Bo.”

  He nuzzled into her neck. “Not anymore, honey.”

  Brady ran in to see Bo, and without thinking, Bo lifted him and swung him around. As he put the giggling kid down, Neen, Callie, and Greg gaped at him. “What?”

  Greg pointed to Bo’s arm. “That was no two-thirds recovery, brother. I don’t know what you’ve been doing, but whatever it is, it’s working.”

  “He’s been swimming every day,” said Neen. “Forget the new house. Build the barn and let’s get the pool in. Next thing you know, he’ll be beating all of us at arm wrestling.”

  “Not me,” said Greg.

  Bo shook his head. No arm wrestling with Greg. He worked out with weights nearly every day, and he was strong as a horse.

  While the women put dinner on the table, Bo went into Greg’s study with him and pushed the door closed. Greg called Randy and put it on the speakerphone so Bo could hear. “Is she ready to talk?”

  “Her husband said he’d have an attorney here at seven this evening. Stan Houser is her brother-in-law, but he refused to represent her, said it was a conflict of interest since he’s representing Callie, and Tommy Ray is after Callie.”

  “Tell Mary we’ll bring her some dinner when we finish eating. Callie made enough to feed an army.”

  “Well, in that case—”

  “I’ll bring you some, too.”

  “Hey, that’s great. Thanks, Greg.”

  Bo chuckled. “Does every man in this town have a crush on Callie, or is it just Skeeter and Randy?”

  “Skeeter?”

  “Yeah. I think he was hoping I wouldn’t come back.”

  Greg stood and walked around the desk. “He’ll find another woman.”

  Maybe, but Bo had his doubts.

  After a pleasant family dinner, while Neen fixed plates of food for Randy and the prisoner, Greg carried in Bo’s bags and put them in Callie’s room. Brady followed them into the room.

  Callie watched Bo stuff his cell phone in his shirt pocket and reload his gun, and her face lost all its color. “Brady, you go help Aunt Neen clean up the kitchen.”

  Brady whined, but he did as he was told, leaving Callie and Bo alone. “That wasn’t an accident out there on the road today, was it?”

  “No. Someone ran me off the road and shot at me, so I shot back.”

  “Who’s in the jailhouse?”

  “Mary Bickley.”

  She sank to the bed. “She’s helping him again?”

  “Yep. Greg and I are waiting until dark to look for Tommy Ray. Dave Montgomery and two of his men will be here by then. If Mary doesn’t help us, she’ll end up in prison.”

  That feisty Calamity Jane part of her took over. She closed the bedroom door and ordered him to strip.

  Bo laughed a little. “What?”

  “I want to see where else you’re injured, and don’t you dare argue with me, Bo Gregory.”

  “I wouldn’t think of it.” He pulled off his shirt, toed off his shoes, and dropped his pants.

  Gentle hands ran over his shoulders and around his chest. “You have a stripe from the seatbelt. Good thing you had it on, though. How many times did you fire at Tommy Ray?”

  “Four. Two in the tires, one in the door, and one hit him, probably in the shoulder. They found the pickup he was driving, and there’s blood on the back of the driver’s seat.”

  “Old brown pickup with tinted side windows?”

  “That’s it. He abandoned it, which is why we’re giving him time before we go looking for him. Someone gave him a ride, but if he has any sense at all, he won’t let them drop him off at the house he’s staying in.”

  “Clutter’s place?”

  Bo cocked his h
ead. “How did you know?”

  “I went to church with Greg and Neen last Sunday, and Mr. and Mrs. Clutter weren’t there. They’re regular churchgoers, so I asked Lindsay Blackburn and she said they were on vacation in their motor home, which means they’ll be gone for at least two months. They live out on Old Caledonia Road, and I knew Tommy Ray was staying along there somewhere, because Skeeter said the man in the pickup was watching the ranch and waiting for the school bus, and when Greg looked for it, it would always disappear.”

  Bo stifled a laugh. How could anyone with a drawl talk that fast?

  “You can put your clothes back on now.”

  He grinned. “Are you sure? I thought, since one of us is already almost naked—”

  “Not now, Bo. Brady could come in.”

  Someone knocked on the door and opened it. Greg said, “Oops.”

  “Come in, Greg.” Bo pulled his pants up and zipped them as Greg walked through the door. “Callie was checking me for bruises.”

  “Randy says Mary is ready to talk, and Neen has their dinner warmed and ready.”

  Callie grabbed her purse. “I’m coming, too.”

  “No, you’re not,” said Greg. “If Mary Bickley sees you, she’ll freeze up. Let us handle it this time. I need someone to stay here with Neen.”

  “Liar.”

  “Fine, I’m lying. Humor me. Stay here with Neen and Brady. Nobody knows for sure where Tommy Ray is right now, and I don’t want you out and about where you can be seen.”

  Bo gave her a quick hug. “I’ll call you when I get a minute.”

  She pouted and then sighed. “Okay, I’ll stay here, but if you need a sharpshooter—”

  “Honey, Greg is a sharpshooter.” And Bo was a pretty good shot himself.

  Callie pinned Greg in a stare. “Don’t let anything else happen to Bo.”

  “If I did, Mom would never forgive me.”

  “That’s because she likes me better,” said Bo.

  “But I’m the baby of the family.”

  “You’re the trouble maker of the family.”

  “Who, me?”

  This time Callie didn’t mind their friendly bickering. She knew they loved each other and they’d watch out for each other. “I expect a phone call every half-hour or so until y’all get back.”

  Bo kissed her. “We’ll try.”

  The men went downstairs. Callie stayed in the bedroom, her chest heavy with worry. Wounded, Tommy Ray could be as fearsome as a wild animal caught in a trap. An animal would chew its foot off to get away, and Tommy Ray wouldn’t care who he had to hurt or kill to get away. He was dangerous before.

  Now he could be deadly.

  She closed her eyes and said a prayer for God to take care of Greg and Bo, and she asked Him to end the trouble with Tommy Ray without anyone else getting hurt.

  What she wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in the jailhouse and hear Bo and Greg talking with Miz Bickley.

  <>

  Bo handed Mary her dinner while Greg talked with Randy. “It’s the same dinner Greg and I had at his house a few minutes ago.”

  “Thank you kindly, Bo.”

  “You’re welcome. Did you find an attorney?”

  “Yes, sir, I did. He’ll be back after dinner. I’m not ‘sposed to say anything unless he’s here.”

  Bo nodded and walked away, leaving Mary alone to eat her dinner. He didn’t tell her who’d cooked it. If she knew Callie made it, she’d probably throw it in the garbage. What had Callie done to inspire such hate from this woman?

  Thirty minutes later, Dave Montgomery and two other FBI agents arrived. The pastor and his wife’s attorney walked in together a few minutes later.

  Greg locked the door. Mary sat in front of Greg’s desk, her attorney on one side, and her husband on the other, while Dave and Bo sat with Greg behind the desk. Randy and the two men with Dave stood back out of the way.

  Greg put a tape recorder on the table and turned it on. He identified himself and gave the date and time. “Mary Bickley is here with her attorney, Royal Wimms, and her husband, Rev. John Bickley. We brought Mary in so she could tell us where to find Tommy Ray Caldwell, who attempted to murder Bo Gregory this afternoon.”

  John’s eyes and mouth widened with shock, and Greg talked on. “Mrs. Bickley, I understand you’ve been buying more groceries than usual, including chewing tobacco, which I understand isn’t a normal purchase for you. Can you tell me what you’re doing with the extra groceries?”

  Her attorney nodded, and she said, “I’ve been taking them to a friend who can’t do his own shopping.”

  “Who is this friend?”

  She didn’t answer, so her husband nudged her. “Tell them, Mary.”

  She lifted her chin. “Tommy Ray Caldwell.”

  “Didn’t you know the FBI was looking for him?”

  “Tommy Ray said it was all part of an undercover operation. He said he was pretending to be hiding, but he wasn’t really hiding, because the FBI knew all the time where he was. They were trying to catch somebody else.”

  “Catch who?” asked Bo.

  “You. He said you were a drug smuggler, and you were using the ranch as a...” She waved her hand. “I can’t remember what he called it. He said y’all were packaging drugs there and making meth and some other stuff so you could sell it to our kids.”

  Bo wanted to lock this woman in a cell and throw away the key. She couldn’t possibly believe that crap.

  Dave asked, “Where is Tommy Ray Caldwell now?”

  She looked down. “I don’t know.”

  Greg stood. “Lock her up, Randy. I don’t have time to sit here and listen to a bunch of lies.”

  Mr. Wimms’ face darkened. “My client—”

  “Your client is lying to protect a criminal, and she just earned herself a cell in the women’s penitentiary. The man she’s protecting nearly beat someone to death, he whipped an innocent little boy hard enough to leave scars, and he ran my brother off the road today and then came back and shot at him.”

  John Bickley slowly rose from his chair and walked out the door without a word. Bo followed him out the door. “Rev. Bickley, may I have a word with you?”

  He stopped and turned to face Bo. “My wife has obviously been brainwashed. I don’t even know that woman in there.”

  Bo let the comment pass. According to Callie, the woman had always been hateful. “I’m going to ask you a big favor, Reverend. Please don’t tell anyone what’s going on here until after we catch Tommy Ray. If he somehow gets word that she’s been talking to us—”

  He nodded. “Yes, all right. Will she go to prison?”

  “What do you think?”

  John sagged like someone had let all the air out of him and then walked out to his car. Bo pitied him. After this experience, his life would never be the same. Callie said he didn’t believe in divorce, but Bo couldn’t picture any man staying married to that shrew.

  Greg locked Mary in her cell again.

  “I demand you release me right now.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until a judge sets bail.”

  Bo knew she wouldn’t get out tonight and maybe not tomorrow, depending on the court schedule. She’d helped a fugitive from justice, and she didn’t deserve to go free.

  They’d already gotten the information they needed from Mary, but not from something she’d told them. It was the phone call she’d made—or tried to make—on Bo’s cell phone.

  It took a few minutes to get a plan in place and a search warrant for the Clutter place, and by the time they got there, Tommy Ray had disappeared again. The back door stood open, the house was a mess, and blood stained the bathroom sink and soaked the shirt on the floor. One of Dave’s men took a picture and then lifted the shirt off the floor to reveal a hole in the sleeve. “There’s where your bullet went, Bo,” said Dave.

  Bo felt a deep sense of disappointment. Tommy Ray had lost quite a bit of blood, but he’d gotten away again. Too bad that bullet d
idn’t hit the creep’s heart.

  “He didn’t go far without transportation,” said Greg. “He abandoned the pickup, and Mrs. Clutter’s Cadillac is parked in the garage, so we know he isn’t driving it.”

  “Mary Bickley can’t help him this time,” Bo said mostly to himself.

  Dave left a man to guard the house in case Tommy Ray came back, but Bo doubted he’d return. He’d probably found another hole to hide in while his arm healed. Too bad Tommy Ray’s arm was in the way. Bo’s bullet could have hit his heart and ended it this afternoon.

  Bo called Callie on the way back to town. “We’re on our way home. We lost him.”

  “Oh, what a shame.”

  “We don’t think he has anything to drive, so he’s still around here somewhere.”

  But where?

  <>

  Bo hadn’t been in bed for two hours when the phone rang. Callie jumped out of bed and pulled on her clothes.

  Greg opened the bedroom door. “Skeeter spotted a light in the bathroom window. He’s in the barn, in the loft, watching the house. Every now and then someone pushes the living room drapes back to look out.”

  Callie pulled her boots on. “I left the drapes and the windows open.”

  Bo grabbed his pants.

  Callie said, “I’m going this time, and no arguments. I know how to get close to the house without being seen, and y’all don’t.”

  Nobody argued with her.

  Ten long minutes later, Dave and his men met them down the road from Callie’s ranch. They each carried a big flashlight, but the nearly full moon shone brightly enough to light their way. Callie pulled her jacket on and took her pistol off the seat. “Don’t go stepping in any gopher holes now, ya hear? We have to shoot horses when they break their legs, and I don’t want to have to shoot any of you.”

  Bo chuckled. “Come on, Calamity Jane. You’re scaring Greg.”

  “She’s scaring me, too.” Dave gave an exaggerated shiver.

  They jumped the ditch by the road, stepped over the fence, and started out, one FBI agent, a temporary sheriff’s deputy, an acting sheriff, and the woman who owned the ranch. They hiked at least a mile, weaving in and out of the low hills, before Bo spotted the barn in the distance. Callie pointed to the right. “There’s a little gully over yonder. We can follow it up to the back of the barn.”