Kat grabbed her arm and tried to stand up. She looked Emily in the eyes, and a thousand thoughts raced through her head. She wanted to tell Emily to grab a phone, to call the cops, to go get her car and to leave.
But only one word came out of Kat’s mouth.
“Marty.”
Chapter 83
Marty slid the chain off the slide and turned the knob on the deadbolt. He pulled his pack over his shoulder and patted down his hair. He was ready to go.
He slung the door open and held out his hand to give a firm shake, just like his daddy had told him to do.
The bad man took a step inside, took his hand, and smiled.
“Hello, Marty. Good seeing you again.”
Colored pencils, paper and a walkie-talkie spilled out onto the floor.
Chapter 84
The drawing couldn’t be right. No way. Kat knew she had to pull herself together, but this cut her to the core. Suddenly, nothing made sense, yet everything made sense. She picked the pad up, but before she could take a second look, the chime beeped and a man walked in the door.
Kathryn took off so fast she knocked her chair over.
It scared Emily, and she started towards the alley exit in the back but stopped when she saw Kat running toward the man, still crying.
He looked as shocked as any of them. “What?” he said. “What is it? Are you okay?”
She thrust the pad into his hand. “Look.” Kat could barely get the words out. “Look.”
He studied the page. Within a matter of seconds, his face followed the same progression as Kathryn’s – bewilderment, shock, then horror.
“That is Tom Chrestman,” he said, pointing to the man on the ground in the drawing. “And this other person holding the gun is –”
Kathryn looked up through glassy eyes and tried to say the name of the man in the drawing, but the full scope of the betrayal crushed her, and at first, all she could do was nod. When she tried again, however, she was able to cough out a response.
“Ethan,” she said in between sobs. Rick Papania drew her close and she buried her face in his chest. “It’s Ethan.”
Chapter 85
Much to Ethan Davis’s surprise, Marty didn’t put up a fight at all. No thrashing, screaming or running away. To the contrary, he became near-catatonic as soon as Ethan walked through the door. Ethan was happy he didn’t have to resort to any violence, but it still wasn’t easy. Walking Marty’s dead weight out to the truck was like moving a queen-sized mattress alone. Ethan wrestled him to the truck and shoved him in. By this time, Ethan was pissed, thirsty, and not in the mood for conversation, so when the loud one popped off from the back seat and asked – for the second time – where Ethan was taking them, Ethan hit him with a quick jab so hard it cut his cheek and made the area around his eye puff up.
“I told you to shut up. From now on, you do not say another word, you understand?” Mark nodded his head.
Hop flinched when Ethan put his finger in his face. “Now you, on the other hand, you are the only one I want to hear from.”
“Yessir.”
“What time is your little rendezvous at Gulfport Lake supposed to start?”
“I don’t know. We never said. I guess we were going to meet up between four and five. You know, when we got through at the banks. Party is supposed to start after dark – probably around six.”
“You better not be lying to me, son.” Ethan leaned in.
“I’m not.” Hop wasn’t lying. Not really. He knew he, Mark, Matt, Lance, and Nate were all supposed to meet at Gulfport Lake early, and he knew there was going to be a party later, but he wasn’t sure about the particular times. Maybe it wouldn’t matter.
“Good, because if you are, you’re the one I’m shooting first.”
Hop put his head down and prayed for a miracle.
Chapter 86
It took less than a minute for the shock to wear off and for Kathryn to snap back into FBI mode. It certainly helped that Rick was there, because as soon as she told him about Marty, he got on his radio and commandeered the phone. Yes, she was mad at him for not calling to tell her he would be late, and he knew he was in the doghouse for dropping that ball, but he apologized, and all was forgiven – for now. They had work to do, and watching Rick take charge motivated everyone around them. He used the sketch and Kat’s description of Ethan’s truck for the APB, and by the time he hung up, every cop, highway patrolman, and fireman on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, along with everyone else in the room, knew to be on the lookout for a six-foot two white male in his mid-thirties driving a 1984 light blue Dodge Ram Crew Cab.
Since Rick was busy chasing that lead, Kat turned to other issues – and recruited some on-the-spot help. “Emily, can you call Nate Mayes? I need to make sure he’s safe and secure.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If you talk to him, tell him to meet me at GPD headquarters right next to city hall on 14th Street, okay? Right away.”
“You got it.” Emily went to the office and dialed Nate’s home number. She let it ring until it rolled to the answering machine and hung up. She tried again and still got no luck, so she dialed Matt.
“Come on, Matt. Pick up.” Nothing. Same when she tried to call Hop and Mark.
By now, the gallery was a flurry of activity and had morphed into a temporary ops center, with Chief Papania barking out orders right and left. Emily strolled around looking for Ms. Cooper, and when she didn’t see her, she waited until he had an opening and jumped in.
“Chief?”
“Hey – Emily, right?”
“Yessir. Do you know where Ms. Cooper went? I can’t seem to find her.”
“She had to go to her office. Said she had to lock down some files. You need her?”
“Not really. She asked me to make some calls, but I haven’t been able to reach anyone yet.” She looked around, and there were already two other people waiting to speak to him. “You look like you have this under control. I’m probably going to go on home, okay?”
“You’re welcome to stay, but I understand. It’s pretty crazy around here and will probably get worse.”
“If I do find out anything, should I call her or you? I don’t know the number at her office.”
He pulled out a card. “This number is to dispatch. If I’m at the station, they can ring me there. If not, let them know who you are, and that you are trying to reach me, and someone will get me on the radio, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” He turned back to his work, and Emily headed to her car. She wanted to go see her mom and tell her everything that had happened, but before she did, she wanted to try to meet up with Matt. She had a lot to tell him.
She was sure his day had not been as interesting as hers.
Chapter 87
Since Nate still had my keys, I had no choice but to take Ferris, and I worked the horses under the hood like they’ve never been worked before. I flew down Highway 49, thankful no cops were running traps, and made it to Airport Road in fifteen minutes. Arguably, I ran one, maybe two, red lights, but they were close enough to yellow to not give me too much heartburn and not cause any wrecks. Of course, there were more than a few drivers who didn’t appreciate my Indy skills, and one finger, two horns, and a very vocal obscenity later, I turned off onto the gravel road leading up to the lake and punched it.
I saw Hayden’s obscenely large pickup truck and a trailer packed with pallets over by the beach area. He and Lance were pulling them off two by two.
“It’s about time,” Lance said. “We could use some help. I’m running a little behind, but it’s my fault. Stopped at Elizabeth’s to get a quick rub down before I met up with Hayden. What can I say?”
When I didn’t laugh or come back with a comment, Lance realized something was going on. He pulled his gloves off as I told him what happened at Nate’s. Hayden stopped to listen
but didn’t say a word.
“You call the police?”
“No. Not yet. I wanted to come by here first. With Hop and Mark still out, I didn’t know if I should. Anything from them?”
“No.”
“So, what do we do now?”
Lance took a drink of water out of his Igloo jug. “I don’t think we have a choice anymore. We got to go to the police and tell ’em ’bout Nate. We know for sure he’s in trouble, so he’s first on the list.”
“You’re right. I should’ve thought of that.”
“As for the other two, let’s just play it by ear. For all we know, they could be right around the corner.”
“Yeah,” I said, “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
“I guess so,” Lance said, looking up towards the road. “Let’s roll.”
Chapter 88
Emily thought she should start at Gulfport Lake in case Matt and his buddies were already setting up. If no one had made it yet, she would go to Bayou View Grocery and try another round of calls. It had the closest pay phone.
She clicked around on the radio to Power 108, and stopped when she heard the Go-Go’s. A long line of cars coming her way temporarily blocked her from turning left onto the gravel road, so she took advantage of the delay to apply a fresh coat of lipstick in case Matt happened to be there alone. She pulled down her visor and twisted out “Chestnut Rose,” a color picked out for her by the lady at the cosmetics counter. She was an autumn, after all.
By the time she flipped the mirror back up, there were just a few more cars left. She reached over to the passenger seat to put the tube back in her purse and stopped. Coming in her direction was a large blue pickup truck.
No way.
She tried to remember how Chief Papania described it. She knew it was blue and had a back seat because she had to ask someone what ‘crew cab’ meant. As it got closer, Emily ducked down behind the steering wheel, and as the truck made the turn, she peeked above her dash.
Marty Deen was sitting in the second row, looking out the window. He didn’t see her.
Emily reached into her pocket, pulled out Chief Papania’s card and floored it. She could get to Bayou View Grocery in three minutes if she caught the light.
Chapter 89
Lance’s instincts must have been right, because as soon as we climbed into the truck, a dust trail rising above the pines told us someone was coming our way – and they were close. I squinted my eyes but didn’t recognize the vehicle that breached the tree line.
“That one of your boys, Lance?”
He looked for a second then shook his head. “Never seen that one before.” He leaned out his window. “Hayden?”
“Nope.”
A blue crew cab pickup truck came down the drive and skidded to a stop right in front of us. Sitting in the back seat were Hop, Mark, and a man I didn’t recognize. They all looked miserable, and Mark had blood all over his face.
“What is going on here?” Lance said under his breath. Before I could answer, the driver rolled down his window and pointed a gun at us. Up to that point, I had lived most of my life barely even seeing a gun in person. The fact that I had two pulled in front of me in the span of one hour was beyond comprehension.
“Out of the truck. All of you, and keep your hands where I can see them.” He also ordered Mark, Hop, and the other guy – who I later discovered was Marty Deen – out, and lined all of us up, including Hayden, side-by-side in front of Hayden’s truck.
“My name is Ethan Davis,” He said, pulling out a badge. “I work for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. FBI for you retards – and yes, I meant to say that in the plural. From what I was told on the way over here, you boys have been engaged in some very serious activity today. Displayed some behaviors that could put you in jail for a long time.”
He waited for a reaction but got none. I could tell Mark was mad just by the look on his face, but he held his tongue – for the time being.
Agent Davis continued. “Mr. Hopkins here tells me this whole enterprise was masterminded by a ringleader by the name of Nate Mayes. So, first things first. Which one of you is Nate?”
I raised my hand, and he walked in front of me. “Let me see some I.D. – real and fake.”
“What do you mean –”
“Don’t even start with me, son. I know all about it. Hand them over.”
I gave him both, and before he even asked, Lance did the same.
“Well, well. Mr. Hopkins, despite their well-crafted paraphernalia, neither one of these miscreants appears to be Nate Mayes.” He walked over and pointed at Hayden. “And unless Sloth here is my man – which I seriously doubt – the rest of you Goonies need to start talking, or –”
“Are we under arrest?” It was Mark.
“What’d you say, boy?”
“Are we under arrest?” Mark asked, enunciating each word. “Because if we are, you need to read us our rights.”
Agent Davis jumped in Mark’s face. “I thought I told you not to speak.”
“I can speak if I want to. And if I am under arrest, I have the right to speak to my lawyer.”
He looked at Mark then scanned the rest of us.
“I will tell you what you have the right to do and what not to do, and if you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your damn mouth shut.”
Mark scowled at him but didn’t say anything.
“Mr. Hopkins, you did, in fact, tell me Nate Mayes would be here, didn’t you?”
“Yessir,” Hop said, staring at the ground.
“Surely one of you knows where he is, and if you tell me, I bet we can work out a deal. Who knows, I may even be able to keep you out of jail. If not, well –”
“You can’t do shit,” Mark said.
“Excuse me?”
“Nate told us all about it. He said there is a dirty cop on the inside.” Mark leaned forward. “I think it’s you.”
Agent Davis clicked his jaw, and walked up to Mark, resting his hand on his holster and drumming his fingers across the grip. “Those are pretty strong words, boy. You better be careful.”
“I know about the drop box.”
“Shut up, Mark,” I said. “Let it go.”
“I know about the pictures.”
Hop tried to jab Mark with his free hand, but Mark shook him off.
“And,” Mark said, squinting as he spoke, “I know who you are. Fast Eddie.”
In what couldn’t have been more than a second, Agent Davis drew his gun, engaged the slide and rested the barrel two inches from Mark’s forehead.
Chapter 90
Emily made the call to the police station, and they patched her through to Chief Papania at the gallery. When she reported to him what she saw, he thanked her then told her not to go back out to Gulfport Lake as he would have officers on site within minutes, and it was just not safe for her to be out there.
Emily knew she should obey him and sit tight, especially if this Ethan guy was dangerous, but she just couldn’t. The look on Marty Deen’s face alone was enough to put her back in the driver’s seat, and as she pulled off, she wasn’t too terribly worried. A whole army of cops was on the way, and with their lights, radios and open roads, they would probably beat her there anyway.
* * *
When she turned off onto the gravel road, she didn’t see where any dust had been kicked up, so she stopped and rolled down her window, listening for the cavalry. She didn’t hear any engines revving or sirens wailing.
But she did hear someone yelling.
She didn’t know who was doing it, and couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, but it didn’t sound good. Emily would never forgive herself if someone harmed Marty.
She jammed the clutch and worked the gears so hard, she was in third by the time she made it to the trees.
Chapter
91
Mark should not have pushed Agent Davis like he did. I really believed we could have gotten out of there in one piece had he kept his mouth shut. But when his last comment about Fast Eddie hit the bullseye, this guy – whoever he was – lost his freaking mind.
“Well, well, I think we have a winner,” he said, his voice rising with every word. He pointed to Hop. “I told this one here, he was going to be the first to go, but I have changed my mind. It is your lucky day, son.”
He looked back at Mark, and his eyes were feral and wild, much like those of my dachshund when I tried to take a stick out of her mouth. Then he started to yell.
“I didn’t like you the first time I saw you.” He licked his lips, and Mark stared him down, unmoving. “And I don’t like you now.” He looked around, happy to have an audience. “This one’s going to be easy. Any last words, you little prick?”
Mark glanced over at us, then his eyes found the ground. He shuffled his feet and opened his mouth, but before he could speak, a white BMW came screaming down the drive, throwing rocks and oyster shells in its wake.
It drew Agent Davis’s attention away from Mark just long enough for Lance to lean into the cab of Hayden’s truck and hit the button.
Hayden told me at Fish Feeders he got that train horn off a decommissioned diesel locomotive at a rail yard where his uncle worked. I had forgotten just how loud it was, and when it blew, the vibration alone made my eye twitch.
It startled Agent Davis, too. So much that when he jerked, his reflexes drew his elbows in tight by his body, and he dropped the gun.
For a big boy, Hayden was quick, and before the pistol hit the ground, one of his arms had already disappeared into the truck bed.
Chapter 92
Historically known as the hardest of the hardwoods, hickory’s practical applications have been manifold over the years. Native Americans bent hickory to make their bows. Early settlers to North America turned hickory into spokes for carriage wheels. Perhaps the most famous hickory aficionado was Babe Ruth, who favored Louisville Sluggers fashioned out of hand-selected virgin trees. Its most utilitarian and widespread application, however, had been in the fashioning of handles for tools and farm implements – none more prevalent than axe handles.
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