Authors: Reavis Z Wortham
The rain slacked off, following the pattern that seemed endless. Cody leaned on a shovel beside what that might or might not be a quickly filling grave. “All right. This ain't working like it should.”
Buck lit a cigarette off the butt in his hand. He flicked it onto the ground and took a deep drag from the fresh one. “We're spinning our wheels here.”
Cody glanced over his shoulder at the dragline crawling behind the two growling bulldozers. “Ike, would you go wave down one of those drivers and tell him I'dâ¦the sheriffâ¦would like for one of them to come over here and dig us a hole?”
“Sure 'nough.” Ike took off across the muddy distance, glad to be away for a few minutes.
“That don't hardly seem the right way to dig folks up, son.”
Cody met Buck's eyes. “We don't have time to be finicky.” He motioned toward the creek that was noticeably closer than when they'd arrived. “If those men are down there, we need to roll them out pretty quick. They can be gentle at the funeral home, when the medical examiner in Dallas releases 'em.”
“That dozer might tear them up.”
“At least we'll have what we find. If not, they'll be underwater in a couple of days and we'll always wonder.”
Buck studied the rivulets leading toward the creek. The dozer slowed and in the distance, they watched the driver speak with Ike. The engine's timbre changed again to an idle as he climbed down. The other drivers conversed before removing the huge chains tethering them to the dragline.
In minutes both bulldozers cut across the barren terrain. Ike followed and came around when they stopped. He beamed. “Listen, listen, how about two of 'em?”
“Good job, Ike.” Cody stepped between the monstrous machines and shouted. “Can y'all cut us a big hole here?” They nodded. “Be careful. There may be some bodies down there.”
The older of the two nodded and gave Cody a thumbs-up. In tandem, they lowered their blades and pushed forward, immediately enlarging the shallow mud hole. Buck winced, thinking about what might happen as the blades tore through the ground. They continued for twenty yards and slowly dumped the contents of the shovels. Buck watched the mud and water spill out, then shook his head when he saw nothing else.
They reversed their engines, backed up and repeated the process. Again, the results were the same.
Buck studied the hole. “They may not be down there.”
“They may be deep. The ground sure seems soft in places, like it's been dug before.”
The bulldozers backed up again.
“Probably because it's been tore up so bad already when they pushed all the trees down.”
Muddy water seeped into the wide scar.
Cody waved them forward again. The drivers conversed, separated slightly, and the shovels dug in again. This time the metal tread of the bulldozer on the right, the one driven by the older driver, sunk deeper than the other. The driver throttled higher and they rolled out to dump the mud.
Again, Buck shook his head.
Instead of backing up, they separated, split around Buck, and circled back to the deep gash. Cody waved at the older driver and gave him a signal.
One more time.
The driver made his own signal toward the other dozer, indicating that he wanted to go deeper. He nodded and working at slight angles to each other, they dug in again, this time in a slight V from their starting point. Black smoke poured out of both stacks as the shovels took deeper bites.
At that same moment, Cracker streaked around the machinery, aimed directly at Ike. Seeing the dog appear out of nowhere, Ike recoiled and gave a little bleat, throwing up his hands to ward off the attack.
Ty Cobb leaped forward, grabbed, and missed the dog. Cracker raced toward the little farmer who froze in place. The dog shot between Ike's feet as the man's eyes rolled back his head. Ike fell backward in a dead faint. Lucky for him, the tortured ground was soft as a feather bed, and he landed with a muffled thump.
Cracker didn't slow. He dashed into the middle of the huge hole and started digging. Frantic, the dog threw wet dirt between his hind legs like he was trying to outdo both bulldozers.
“Hold it!” Cody waved the dozers still.
Jimmy Foxx jumped into the hole and grabbed at the dog. Whining, Cracker dodged, spun in a circle and stopped to dig again.
“Come here you little idiot!” Ty Cobb joined his brother.
It was a greased pig contest in the muddy hole, with Cracker dodging and digging while the boys threw themselves at the wet Brit. Cody laughed as they whooped encouragement at the brothers to catch the little dog. Jimmy Foxx lunged again and caught Cracker by the collar. Whining deep in his throat, the dog wriggled to get free, but Ty Cobb got a good hold and they had him outnumbered.
Cody nudged Ike with the toe of his muddy boot and wiped a tear from his eyes. “That was the damndest thing I've ever seen.”
Buck took a knee beside Ike. “He's already coming around. I never.”
Regaining control, Cody waved everyone back, and seeing that the dog was well in hand, waved for the dozers. The engines roared, belched smoke, and dug in.
Grinning, the younger driver rolled up dirt and fresh roots.
The older man's smile quickly faded when his machine slowed and stalled. When he throttled higher, it shuddered. The ground beneath the shovel moved in an unnatural way. The broken surface rippled several feet away. The ground swelled, making Mike Parsons shiver with unease.
“Must be a big damned log,” Buck said.
“Why would it be buried that deep?”
“Well, they probably⦔
Buck quit talking when the mud-covered tail fin of an Impala erupted from the soil. Rain washed some of the mud away, revealing more of the trunk. Glass exploded from the stress and the gagging odor of death swept over those standing around.
Cody waved at the driver to stop. He shifted into reverse and backed out. Cody dropped into the hole, and struggled toward the door with the busted glass. On one knee in the mud, he braced himself against the car and held his breath. He winced and backed away.
“This is what we came for, Buck. You want to make this official?”
The justice of the peace joined him as the bulldozers coughed and died. Rain pattered in the sudden silence. “Well, I don't need to officially pronounce them dead, that's for sure.” He backed out of the way and nodded.
Cody called up to the older driver. “When I tell you, see if you can get that blade under the front end of the car there and raise it up.” He addressed the younger driver. “When he does, back up to it and we'll throw a chain around the axle, then you can pull it out. Don't stop till you get to the highway.”
The engines roared to life again. Fifteen minutes later, the car with its gruesome cargo wallowed behind the dozer like a ship in a gale.
Cody and the men followed the car in silence. Moving on weak knees, Ike walked between Mike Parsons and Dub Hinkley. When they reached the parked vehicles, the bulldozer operators climbed down and unhitched the car. Cody made it a point to shake the hands of both men and thank them. Visibly relieved that it was over, they returned to the dragline and a job preferable to digging up bodies.
The Wilson boys promised Cracker both a good meal and the threat of spending a week without hunting.
The first, for finding the bodies.
The second for scaring Ike half to death.
While Crow took a shower and James watched Walter Cronkite give the nightly Viet Cong body count on the black and white television, Ned made a long-distance collect call to Miss Becky. As he waited for the operator to make the connection, he had an uneasy feeling all this had happened before.
This time, though, he wasn't planning to invade Mexico.
After a series of clicks, she answered. The operator asked if she'd accept the call. “Sure 'nough, hon.”
“Howdy Mama.”
“Where are you, Daddy? Have you found her yet?”
“Not yet, but we know somebody who's seen her and she's all right.”
“Praise the
Lord!
Who'd you talk to?”
“I didn't. Crow did.”
“Who?”
Ned realized he hadn't caught her up on their companion. He explained, but could tell that she was waiting for him to take a breath so she could say something. He stopped when she made that little sound in her throat that always meant she wanted to break in. “What is it?”
“Top knows where you can catch her.”
Ned glanced at James. “Come over here and listen to this.”
James swung off the bed and joined Ned. They put their heads together with the receiver between them. “Go ahead, Mama. James is listening.”
“Pepper left Top a note that he found this afternoon. She said Cale has a cousin out west somewhere. I talked to his daddy and asked him. He said they have a cousin in Flagstaff who has a boy about Cale's age.” She gave them the address and the phone number. “He's been trying to call, but no one's answering.”
Relief flooded through Ned, and James dropped into a chair. “We're liable to get ahead of them.”
Ned listened to Miss Becky as the bathroom door opened and Crow walked out in a cloud of steam. He was back in his same jeans, but carrying the wet shirt that he'd obviously washed by hand. His long hair hung on his shoulders, water dripping on the towel slung around his neck.
He threw them a curious glance as he passed and stepped out the door. He hung the fancy shirt on a nail partially driven into a rough-cut cedar post holding up the long overhang sheltering the Western Skies doors. He stayed there, watching kids swinging on the equipment in the horseshoe-shaped center of the courtyard.
James returned to the bed. “Ask her if Ida Belle's there.”
Ned nodded and listened some more about Top, the rain, and how the folks at church were praying for them.
“All right, Mama. We're gonna stay here tonight in Winslow. I plumb wore out today and we can't go no farther. Flagstaff ain't far, so we'll get up early and be there pretty quick. Is Ida Belle with you?”
He shook his head at the answer. Relieved, James turned his attention to the television and President Lyndon Johnson's struggle with the war.
“Oh,” said Miss Becky remembering something else. “Cody found them missing men. They was buried in the lake-bottom.”
Ned shook his head, both relieved that they'd been found, yet even more uneasy that the killers were so close to the house. “Does he know anything else?”
“Not that he told me. Well, they was buried in their car.”
“What the hell?”
“Watch your language. The Lord's a-listenin'.”
“How do you bury a
car?”
“Cody says they figure someone did it with a bulldozer or dragline, and that's what they used to dig 'em out with, a bulldozer.”
“All right. I'll call him when we hang up.” He glanced at the alarm clock beside the bed. “It's late enough that he should be home by now. Y'all lock the doors tonight.”
“We will. Be careful on that old highway, and find my girl and bring her home.”
“All right.”
Ned hung up by pushing the disconnect button. When he released it and the dial tone sounded in his ear, he dialed O for the operator and made a second collect call to Cody's house.
“All right. Mr. Parker, your party is on the line.”
There was a click as she transferred the call. “Heard you found them two that was missing.”
Cody smiled, thinking that Judge O.C. would give Ned a dressing down if he launched into a conversation like that with him. “Yep. Had to use a dog to sniff 'em out, and a bulldozer to dig 'em up, but we found 'em. Buried in the lake bottom, in their car.”
“You said you used a dog?”
“Yep. The Wilson boys have a little Brittany spaniel that can smell dead people, even under the ground.”
“I never heard of such a thing.”
“Me neither, but it worked.”
“Well, tell them to stay away from the Methodist cemetery, and the Presbyterian graveyard, too. I don't want to get any calls about a dog diggin' up coffins.”
“Ned, they call them caskets now.”
“Uh huh.”
“I sent the bodies to the medical examiner in Dallas. They'll get back to us, but the only thing they'll be able to tell is how they were killed, and it don't matter to them none. I doubt it'll matter to us, neither.”
“You're right about that. I guess you know about Pepper headed for Flagstaff.”
“Yep.”
“All right, I'll let you know when we get Pepper. Becky told me about the note Top found. We're in Winslow.” He paused to hang up, and then thought better. “Listen, I still think those businessmen are tied in to the way Leland Hale was run over.”
“I don't see how.”
“I don't, neither, but something's been digging at me like a rock in my shoe and I can't figure it out. Did y'all check on the buried car's fender?”
“Of course.” Cody paused, waiting on Ned to ask a dozen questions about the investigation, but he was unusually quiet on the other end. He wondered if it was just the cost of a long distance call, or something else. “You keep studying on it, and I will too. Y'all be careful out there.”
“Ain't nobody gonna mess with the three of us.”
“Three?”
“Yeah, oh, I ain't told you about Crow.” Ned took a quick moment to explain.
“Crow, how much?”
“He didn't give me anything but Crow.”
“Maybe Two-Crow.”
“I'd-a said that if he'd told me Two-Crow.”
“Where's he from?”
Ned sighed in exasperation. He hated being questioned on the phone. He glanced out the open door to see Crow sitting with his eyes closed in an orange shell-back lawn chair in the middle of the courtyard, listening to the kids squeal in the playground. “Up around Tahlequah. He's Comanche.”
“I'm gonna contact the sheriff up there to see if he can tell me anything about him.”
“He's all right.” Ned grunted at another sudden pain. This time his forehead broke out in a sweat. His eyes flicked toward James, who was absorbed in the local news.
“What was that?”
“Clearing my throat's all.”
“I'm gonna talk to the Tahlequah sheriff anyway, to make myself feel better.”
“I'd feel better if you figured out who ran over Leland.”
“Workin' on it.”
Ned hung up without saying goodbye.
The sun went down, but Crow stayed in his lawn chair long after the neon Western Skies Motel sign flickered to life. James went to sleep sitting up in one of the full-size beds. Ned laid down beside him, still in his clothes, too, and closed his eyes, leaving the other bed for Crow.
Morning light showed the bed hadn't been slept in at all.