Amy Lynn: Golden Angel

by Jack July

  “Wanna bet?” said Amy as she dug in her front pocket for a small wallet she carried. She pulled out a white business card with the seal of the President of the United States. “You see this, Joe? This is the President’s phone number. Her direct line, not some switchboard. She thinks she owes me a favor. Do you know what that favor’s gonna be? I’ll tell ya: to keep your butt out of the military. Get it through your thick Braxton skull: you ain’t going, no how, no way.”

  Joseph stood abruptly and walked off toward the barn.

  “Can you really do that?” asked a surprised Leon.

  “Yes, sir, I sure can.” said Amy forcefully.

  “Good. Now you need to hear the rest of the story.”

  “What rest of the story?”

  “Mikey Mays asked Kelly to marry him and she said yes.”

  “Oh. Dang it.” Amy said under her breath. Kelly was Amy’s best friend all through high school. She was a sweet but fiesty, a pretty blue-eyed brunette, and Joseph had worshipped her since he was twelve. He had never even considered another girl.

  “There’s more,” said Leon. “Carla Jo broke the news to him and he left her house in a rage. She called Sheriff Carter. He caught Joe about a block from Mikey’s shop. He had a gun. It took Gene an hour to talk him down. That’s why he is trying to run away.”

  “How come nobody told me any of this?”

  Leon shook his head. “Well hell, Amy, you ain’t sat still long enough for anybody to tell you anything.”

  She looked away, let out a big sigh and said, “I’m sorry. You’re right, I haven’t. I’ll go talk to him.”

  Amy took the long walk down through the hollow to the barn. She found Joseph, head in his hands, sitting on a milk crate. He looked up as she walked in. Amy grabbed another old milk crate and sat down next to him.

  “Well, I guess we got something in common,” Amy said with a half-smile. “Tough stuff, losing someone you love. I can’t tell you how to feel. I’m not even sure how I feel. But I know this. I’ve known Mikey since junior high. He’s a good Christian man, and from what I hear that auto repair shop he’s running is doing well. He has a house and a pretty good life. Kelly could do worse than him.”

  “You’re not making me feel any better.”

  “I can’t make you feel better. Only you can make you feel better.”

  Joseph looked away. Amy pulled his chin around towards her. “Look at me. You need to understand what goes on in a good woman’s mind. Not a girl or a whore, but a good woman. Listen up Joe, take it to heart and you will be able to move forward.”

  “I’m listening,” said Joseph with a sigh.

  “When a good woman meets a man she is interested in she asks herself, what does this man have to offer? Then she starts asking herself a list of questions. Is he honest? Will he be faithful? Will he be my best friend? Will he stick with me in the tough times? Will he be a good daddy to my babies? Can he put a roof over our head and food on the table? There’s more, so much more but I think you get where I’m going with this. Kelly is graduating from college. She’s going to be a nurse and knowing her, a pretty good one. You ain’t even graduated from high school. I know the girls at school and the racetrack whores all look at you like you’re something, but to a good woman, you’re just another boy playing with his toys. You have nothing to offer, at least not yet. You will one day, but not now. Besides, if you love Kelly as much as you say you do, you’ll put her happiness first. That’s what good men do. It’s hard and it hurts, but it’s the right thing.

  Joseph nodded and said, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. But now what? I feel lost.”

  “Do you still want to race?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Well then, I guess you need to make some money. We both know who it is in this family that knows how to make money.”

  “Aunt Carla Jo,” said Joseph with a little smile.

  “Yep. Be honest with her. Tell her what you want to do and be prepared to work your butt off. She don’t suffer fools, you know that. Show her through hard work what you’re made of and she’ll help you get anywhere you want to go.”

  Amy stood up and reached for his hand. She pulled him up, hugged him and they started for the door. Then she stopped. “Oh yeah, there is one more thing,” Her eyes narrowed and her face turned angry, “If you ever pick up a gun in anger again, I will kick your butt up around your shoulder blades, do you understand me, Joseph Murphy Braxton?”

  Joseph looked her with a little shame on his face. “I reckon you’ll have to stand in line behind Daddy and Uncle Jack.”

  “Oh, you know I will take my turn. That’s the dumbest thing you have ever done.”

  “I’ve kinda figured that out.”

  “Good. Okay then.”

  They started up the side of the hollow. Amy looked over at Joe and asked, “When are they getting married?”

  Joe shrugged, “They haven’t set a date yet.”

  “Really?” said Amy with a little chuckle. She thought for a moment. “Well, engagements don’t always make it to the altar. Be good to her, be good to Mikey and do not get involved in their relationship. Things have a funny way of working out for the best.”

  Joe looked over at his sister. They had been through some tough times together as children, but he remembered that she had always put him first. He put her in a gentle headlock – just like she did to him when they were kids -- and kissed the top of her head.

  “Thanks. I’m glad you’re home,” said Joe with a little smile.

  CHAPTER 10

  November 5th 5:00 P.M.

  On the outskirts of the Mexican port city of Tuxpan is a little town called Alto Lucero. In a nondescript neighborhood there, Carlos pulled up in front of a house. He waited for a few minutes until he was certain he wasn’t being watched; a little white girl would be noticed. Pulling a hat down over Kristy’s blond hair, he helped her out of the van and to the front door. The woman who answered the door was overweight with stringy graying hair and a semi-permanent scowl. They spoke in Spanish, ignoring the little girl who clung to Carlos’ hand.

  “Pay me, Aida, I have to go,” said Carlos.

  “How much?” said Aida.

  Carlos was tired and in no mood to haggle. “Five thousand American.”

  Aida brought them inside. Then she grabbed Kristy’s wrists with one hand, roughly holding them over her head. She licked the middle finger of her free hand and shoved it down Kristy’s pants. Kristy let out a squeal and squirmed away. When Aida had determined the hymen was intact, she nodded, grunting approval. She pulled an envelope out of her grayish and tattered bra and handed it to Carlos. He opened it and flipped through the bills quickly. “Bueno.”

  As he walked away, he heard the little girl calling to him, panic in her voice. “Carlos, Carlos, don’t leave me here.” He ignored her, climbing into the van and pulling off. Kristy was screaming. “Carlos, Carlos, Carlos!”

  Aida put her hand over Kristy’s mouth and shut the door. “Callate!” The little girl sniffed and a few tears trickled down her cheeks, but she was silent. She wasn’t any different from the others who had come here, Aida thought. She walked the child to a padlocked door. The key was always kept around Aida’s neck on a once-white cord. Inside the locked room, five teenage girls from different parts of South America sat along the walls. Blankets were scattered on the floor and the reek of urine and feces from the two open five-gallon buckets permeated the room. Aida’s lip curled. “You girls stink again. Why don’t you put the lid on those buckets and clean up around the edges?”

  One of the girls sneered at her. “Why don’t you make us?”

  Aida smiled coldly. “Why don’t I let Reyes make you?”

  The girl glared at her, but reached over and put a lid on the bucket nearest her. Aida nodded, then pushed Kristy into the room. “Take care of her, or else.
” She slammed and locked the door.

  Kristy began to sob when she heard the hasp creak into place. The room was dark and dirty, not like her pretty pink bedroom at home. This was definitely not what Carlos had promised her.

  The windows were small and had been painted over with something black. They were also covered with heavy bars. Furniture was no more elaborate than seating in Carlos’ van - a bunch of blankets scattered over the filthy floor.

  The other girls looked at one another. At last, one sighed and stood up. “Me recuerdas a mi hermanita.” She gently took Kristy’s hand and sat her down. She even let the little girl cling to her as she sobbed, “I wanna go home, I wanna go home.”

  November 19th 5:00 A.M.

  A bitter but comforting aroma of Red Diamond coffee wafted through the house, waking Amy. The old digital alarm clock read 4:56 a.m. She lay there for a few seconds, savoring the feel of her old bed after so many nights on a cot or the cold ground, then rolled on out. A few stretches got her blood pumping. They also started a bit of a twinge in her side, but her knee, though stiff, didn’t feel that bad. Still half-asleep, she let her feet take her down the familiar hall into the kitchen, where Daddy was sitting at the table with his old black mug.

  “Good morning, honey. Coffee’s in the pot.”

  “I know, smells wonderful.” Amy gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, then reached up on the top of the refrigerator grabbed a box of Coco Puffs.

  Her daddy chuckled. “Your brother’s favorite.”

  “Yeah, mine too.”

  They sat quietly for a few minutes. “Plans for today?”

  Amy shook her head. “Not really. I’ll probably stick around here. Sheriff Carter said he was coming by today. I figured I’d call Kelly and see if she wanted to have lunch.”

  “I’m really sorry about your boyfriend. You’re picky, so I reckon he must have been quite a man.”

  “He was. You and Uncle Jack would have loved him.”

  He took another sip of his mug, staring over the rim out the window. “When your momma died, I didn’t want to hear anything. No words could help. None of them made any sense. They were just sounds to me. I have no words for you, no help I can give you with this. Is there anything I can do?” Amy shook her head and said, “Don’t worry Daddy, you’re doin’ it”

  The day was a blur. Visitors came by, all excited that Amy was home, then realized there wasn’t much to say. Conversations turned halting and cumbersome. Her world was so much bigger than theirs now. She felt rude and guilty because she quickly grew tired of all of them.

  Only Uncle Jack understood how she felt. That afternoon, he took her to the VFW, where he had arranged a small surprise party in her honor. She fit in here with the veterans. She found herself laughing like she hadn’t in a long time. No wonder this is Uncle Jack’s second home. They all get it.

  Later, she sat quietly with her own incredibly jumbled thoughts. “Confused” would have been an improvement, but she didn’t even have clear thoughts that could get confused. Uncle Jack was right. She wanted to run but had no idea where to go.

  After an hour or more of trying to figure out where to begin, she chased a sleeping pill with a jug of sweet tea, dropping off not much later.

  CHAPTER 11

  November 20th 6:00 A.M.

  Tatiana started her day with a three-mile run around the base, followed by some weightlifting and work on the heavy bag. After a long hot shower, she lingered over breakfast at the base cafeteria. She was waiting, marking time. She was still there when she finally got the call, not on her work phone but the other one, the one with its own business card.

  “Hello?”

  “El hombre que está buscando es el gato negro.” The man you are looking for is the black cat. Then the line went dead.

  She recognized the voice. It was the construction supervisor. Tatiana smiled to herself and called Adele.

  “Adele, it’s T. I need information on a man called the Black Cat. He’ll be Latino, Missouri or Midwest. I don’t know if he’s a gang leader, into human trafficking or drugs. Have the FBI boys hunt him down, then have our people prep him at safe house Bravo Zulu.”

  “On it, honey,” said Adele.

  The Black Cat’s nine lives had just run out.

  Five o’clock Sunday morning. Amy was a little groggy from the sleeping pill, but at least she’d had enough sleep for a change. She got dressed and made sure she had everything packed. She brewed coffee, put some toast in the toaster, then pulled the leftover ham out of the fridge and cut some slices off the bone. After making a big sandwich and filling a travel mug with coffee, she was ready to go. She needed to be on the road fairly soon to make West Memphis on time. Her daddy staggered in half-asleep, probably awakened by the coffee, as she had been yesterday. “Honey, are you sure you don’t want company?”

  “I’ll be fine.” She gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Highway 78 was a straight shot from Jackson County to West Memphis. It widened from two lanes to four and back to two. Uncle Jack had warned Amy about the speed traps along the way, so she took it easy. Three hours and fifteen minutes later she saw the Welcome to West Memphis sign, just in time for a ping warning she needed gas. Right off the road, a nice-sized convenience store beckoned, so she pulled over and parked next to a gas pump, walked into the store, grabbed a Dr. Pepper from the cooler and stood in line.

  In front of her was a big man carrying two cases of soda. Heaving the two cases onto the counter, he turned for just a moment, then froze. She recognized him, but didn’t know from where. “Amy?”

  She smiled automatically. “Yes.”

  He gave her a sad but friendly look. “I’m Luke, Matt’s brother.” He reached out, giving her a light, warm hug. She froze for a second, her phobia about being touched by strangers kicked in, but then she realized he even smelled a little like Matt.

  “I don’t believe you recognized me,” she said.

  Luke laughed. “Oh, we all know who you are. You’re a big deal at Ma’s house. You did what everyone said couldn’t be done. You’re the filly that corralled the wild mustang.”

  Amy smiled a little controlled smile. “You sure it wasn’t the other way around?”

  Luke laughed, a big laugh just like Matt’s. Amy’s heart ached. This, she thought, was going to be worse than I anticipated.

  “Okay, sure, whatever you say. Are you heading to Ma’s?” Amy nodded. “Good, you can follow me. I’m in the green truck.”

  “Let me get gas first,” said Amy.

  “I’ll wait,” said Luke as watched Amy turn and walk toward the car. He thought to himself, Damn, little brother, you had it all.

  CHAPTER 12

  November 20, 5:00 PM, Darwin, Australia.

  In Australia’s wild Northern Territory, not too far from the Mary River, was a home that looked a lot like a Louisiana bayou cabin. It was hidden deep in the tropical forest, relatively inaccessible to the rest of the world. Here lived Cody Harrick, his aboriginal wife and their four kids, three boys and a girl. He and his family lived mostly off the land, and he liked it that way.

  Cody and his oldest son had been out croc hunting, an activity not unlike the bayou alligator hunting of his youth. They’d been lucky, bringing down a hefty 18-footer. He was helping Juka with the finer points of skinning, showing how to take the feet off carefully to use as fetishes, when off in the distance Cody heard the rotors of a helicopter. It was closing in fast.

  With a little urgency Cody said, “Juka, get my gun, round up the kids and tell your Ma we got visitors.”

  There weren’t many clear spots in the jungle, so Cody had a good idea where the old Bell 47 was going to land: a small opening, a couple hundred yards away. He made his way in that direction, staying in the shadows and thicker areas. When the rotors finally slowed to a near-stop, a ma
n got out and started toward the house when a rifle shot exploded the dirt at his feet.

  “Cody Harrick?”

  “No, mate. You must be lost.”

  “I’m Austin Worth. CIA. I have a phone call for you, Mr. Harrick.”

  “And I got a hole I will bury you in. Now go!”

  “T needs to talk.”

  Cody took a deep breath. Once in a great while he called her from town to see how she was. Other than phoning his mom and dad, it was the only call he ever made.

  “All right then. Come on.”

  Austin dialed the satellite phone and handed it to him. T answered immediately.

  “T, it’s Cody.”

  “Cody, you haven’t called me in a long time. How are you?”

  “Well, right now I got a spook and a chopper sitting on my land. I ain’t happy.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that. I need your help.”

  “What?”

  “I want you on a mission with me.”

  “No way, don’t trust ’em.”

  “Look, Cody, I have little girls being ritualistically murdered. American, prepubescent. So far, the count we know about is over twenty. But right now I have one missing I think we can save. We don’t have a lot of time. I need your help.”

  Cody looked at his house. His little girl was peeking through the window, smiling at him when she saw him look at her. Lowanna had tied red ribbons in her light-colored curls today, and she’d been running around bouncing them all morning and giggling.

  “They want to kill me, T.”

  “No, not anymore. I promise. No one on our side will bother you.”

  “I want a pardon, from the president. I want to visit my mom and dad.”

  “I can arrange that.”

  Cody nodded. “How long’s the mission?”

  “Week or two.”

  “Rules?”

  “None.”