Authors: Reavis Z Wortham
Cody was sure of one thing. Marty would eventually come back to his mama's house. The best thing for him to do was to put more pressure on her.
The skies were heavy and gray, but the rain had stopped for the time being. He drove into the boggy yard and sat there with the engine idling, thinking.
What's been bothering me about all this?
Top dreams of talking horses.
He said something about grass.
He shuddered, thinking about the deep cuts on Leland's body from being thrown through the barbed wire fence. They were no closer to figuring out who'd run over him that night on the highway than they were at the outset.
Cody sent men as far away as Dallas, Bonham, and Clarksville to talk with body shop owners. Officers even went to wrecking yards and parts houses, asking if anyone had recently purchased replacement bumpers, headlights, or fenders, then they cross-checked with those customers when they could.
Nothing.
The possibility existed that the driver simply kept going, too drunk or scared to stop. Maybe it was a tourist, or simply someone passing through Center Springs that one and only time, never to return. No matter what, Leland sure didn't deserve to die that way.
He studied the dilapidated truck in Melva's yard, thinking he should offer her a couple of hundred dollars for the old wreck. A used pickup like that would be perfect for a young boy like Top, growing up in the country. All it most likely needed was an engine overhaul and new brakes.
Since it wasn't raining at the moment, he climbed out of the car and walked over to the old mare cropping grass. She stuck her head over the top strand of wire and he absently rubbed her ears and soft muzzle.
“You the horse Top's dreaming about?”
She jerked back and nodded.
He laughed. “I don't believe it.”
“Sheriff?”
Cody was startled to see Melva on the porch. He hadn't noticed that she'd come out. “Morning, Melva.”
“Somebody ought to shoot that old mare. She don't do nothing but stand around and eat.”
“She's old. I imagine she's worked pretty hard most of her life and now she's enjoying retirement.”
“Useless things don't need to take up space.”
“Well.” Cody tracked around the truck, absently checking the condition of the tires that looked pretty good despite their age. “How about this useless thing? Would you think about selling it?”
“No.”
“I'll pay you a fair⦔
“I said no. You need something else?”
He stopped in the yard, not far from the porch. “Have you seen Marty since I was here last?”
“No.”
She didn't giggle, which concerned him.
“Melva, tell me the truth. Has he been by here?”
She rubbed her hands. “I been here by myself all this time.”
“Well, you know, I'd like to believe that.” His gaze drifted to a big yellow cat on the porch. Slinking against the wall, it reached the open door and darted inside. Cody's eyes found a pasteboard suitcase sitting a piece back in the living room. “You going somewhere?”
She hesitated. “Why?”
The hair on the back of Cody's neck tickled. Melva wasn't usually prone to one or two word sentences, and she still hadn't giggled. He rested his right hand on the butt of the Colt 1911 on his hip. “I believe I see a suitcase sitting there.”
“I'm going toâ¦to Waco, to see my daughter.”
“The one you haven't spoke to in a while? Y'all make up?”
“That's my business.”
“It sure is. Not meanin' to pry, but I'd like to come in and poke around if I can.”
Standing ramrod stiff, she tilted her head to the side with an odd, jerky twist. “Do you have a warrant?”
“Sure do.” Cody started toward the car and thought better of turning his back on the house. He squared himself toward Melva.
There was a long pause. “Show it to me, then.”
Cody decided right then and there he was going to stand where his feet were planted until the sun came back out, if he had to. “Come on down here. It's in the car and the way you're acting, I don't want you up there right now. You can wait in the backseat 'til I'm through.”
“You don't have no call to arrest me.”
“You're right about that. You're not under arrest. I want you here so I don't have to holler at you to talk. Now, quit being stubborn so we can get this over with and you can go on to Waco. How're you getting there, anyway?”
Her mouth gaped like a fish out of water and Cody knew in that second that Marty Smallwood was inside. His truck wasn't there, and there were no tracks in the mud, but he was sure of it all the same.
The yellow cat shot back outside and streaked off the porch. One part of his subconscious saw it flash across the wet grass and dart under the pickup, while another took a snapshot of the event.
A shape appeared at the door with astonishing speed.
Cody registered the pistol in Marty's right hand.
Snapshot.
A bright muzzle flash.
The shot seemed to surprise Marty, too.
Snapshot.
Melva, giggling, raised both hands to her face.
Marty took a step out the door and
intentionally
angled to get his mother between them.
Cody felt his knees bend. He was moving into a shooting stance as he drew the Colt automatic from its leather holster.
Snapshot.
A drop of rain struck his hat and another, his shoulder.
Marty fired again, his arm straight out as he moved, but the shot went wild. His mother moved to her right without visibly walking. Marty planted his foot and angled behind her.
One step.
Two.
The Colt rose and he found Marty in the sights.
Snapshot.
Marty was fuzzy, as he should have been, when Cody concentrated on the pistol's sights.
He fired, and at that same instant realized that Marty wasn't there. He simply disappeared. Cody shifted his focus and saw Marty's surprised expression as he dropped through the rotten porch, landing with a foot on either side of the joist. His momentum slapped him forward at the waist, slamming his chest and face against the boards. His nose instantly exploded.
Suddenly off balance, Melva stumbled down the steps. With the agility of a young girl, she caught her balance and took off. Cody grabbed her arm as she passed and slung her to the wet ground. Agility or not, the momentum was too much and she landed hard, rolling twice.
“Don't you move!”
Keeping his Colt aimed at Marty, Cody opened the car door and took cover, expecting John T. to start firing at any minute. Seconds ticked by as he kept the Colt trained on the house. Melva lay on the ground moaning.
Straddling the joist, Marty heaved and retched. His body slid sideways and disappeared from view under the porch.
“Dammit!” Cody knelt, his Colt aimed at the shadowy figure lying still under the porch.
“My baby. You shot my baby.”
“Shut up, Melva.”
Marty didn't seem to be making any attempt to move, so Cody took a chance and reached inside the open door for the microphone. “John.”
The big deputy came back immediately. “Go ahead, Cody.”
“Where are you?”
“Pulling on the highway from Rachel'sâ¦my house.”
He was only five miles away.
“Get over here to Marty Smallwood's place. We've done shot it out and he's down, but I don't know how bad. John T. could be here, too.”
“You hurt?”
“No.”
John's siren wailed as he came back. “On the way. Hang on.”
“You might better hurry.”
James trembled in rage. “I'm calling the cops.”
“You already did.” Ned was propped on the bed, feeling slightly better, but still feverish.
“To report our stolen car.”
“I imagine Crow wanted to do it by hisself.”
“I was going with him.”
“That's why he went on.”
“You taking his side in this?”
“There ain't no side. It's common sense. He'll be back with her in a little bit.”
Cale cleared his throat. “Mr. Parker?”
Both men answered. “What?”
“Uh, I'm sorry for butting in and all, but I'm pretty hungry. None of us has et anything in a long while, and we're out of aspirin, and you need 'em.”
James wanted to give the boy a dressing down, but he paused. Even though Cale had been part of the launching mechanism for the entire disaster, he was still a kid and doing a good job caring for Ned with what little they had.
He dug the wallet out of his back pocket. “All right. Run down to that diner east of here and get us whatever they'll let you take out.”
“Make sure to get some coffee.” Ned pushed himself higher in the bed. “I'd dearly love a cup of black coffee.”
Cale blinked at them through his raccoon mask of bruises. “Uh, I, uh, I wanted to say I'm sorry.”
Neither of the Parkers spoke.
Cale took a deep breath. “I'm sorry for running off with Pepper and for getting' y'all out here.” His voice broke. “I'm sorry for everything I've done, and I'll do better, if y'all can give me a chance.”
Unsure of what to do or say, James gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder.
On the bed, Ned closed his eyes. “If you was mine, I'd give you a whipping, and if I felt better, I would anyway.” He opened them. “We'll talk later, but if you straighten up and fly right from now on, we'll be done with it. Now, go get me that coffee.”
Cale darted out of the door, hurrying toward Highway 66 and the diner. Neither of the adults worried that he'd run off by that time. He'd already learned his lesson.
James watched him through the window. “So you want to wait some more.” It was a statement, not a question.
“What can we do? Even if we call the police to come out here, we still don't have a car. Let's give it a little while and see what happens.”
“All right, then. But I don't want to.”
“Neither do I.”
True to his word, Deputy John Washington arrived in minutes. He rolled out of the sedan and into the rain, dragging a shotgun with him. Melva still lay in the yard as if she were dead and Cody knelt behind the open passenger door, his Colt trained on the house.
John shouldered the pump shotgun and moved forward. “Where is he?”
“Under the porch.”
“You ran him up under the
porch
?”
“Naw, the dumbass fell through it. He's laying there, hurt. I may have shot him. I don't know, but what I do know is that he busted through and straddled one of them two-by-sixes when he did. He keeps gagging and puking, but I didn't want to take no chances.”
“Did you shoot
her
?”
“Threw her down. It might have knocked her out, but I don't know.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“The light's so bad I can't hardly see him under there, and he may have a pistol pointed this way. I'll go around to the long side where he can't get a shot. Pour it on 'im with that scattergun if he starts shooting.”
John settled one butt cheek on the seat to get as much car between him and Marty as possible and laid the shotgun across the door frame. He saw a slight movement and drew a bead on Marty's shapeless form. If he had to start unloading Number 4 buck under there, something was going to die.
After waiting so long for John, Cody was certain John T. wasn't in the house or he'd have already tried shooting it out or running. Cody jogged around to the left side, putting as much of the rotten floor as he could between him and Marty. He might hear Cody coming, but he couldn't see to shoot until he was right on top of him.
John didn't intend to let that happen. “Marty Smallwood! Don't you move a muscle, you hear me? Throw me out that pistol!”
Watching both the rotten boards and the hole that swallowed Marty, Cody tiptoed across the porch.
Marty didn't answer.
“Throw out that gun, now!”
All John could see was movement in the shadows. A trickle of rain funneled off his hat. Even if it had been a bright, sunny day, John doubted if he could have seen him under there anyway. The shape was odd, and he couldn't identify head nor tails.
Marty raised a shaking hand. “Don't shoot no more.”
“I said throw the gun out.”
“All right!” The sudden clap of a gunshot from under the porch made Cody jump. “Shit!”
John opened up with the twelve-gauge. Dust and splinters jumped as the pellets impacted the wood.
From the porch, Cody fired half a dozen times through the rotten boards.
Melva held her head. “Stop! Stop! You're a hurtin' my ears!”
Someone else was shouting too. “Stop shootin'! It was an accident!” Marty's pistol flew out the hole to land at Cody's feet. “I didn't mean to shoot! This damn thing's got a hair trigger on it!”
Stunned that Marty was still alive and talking, Cody crept forward to peek over the ragged hole while John thumbed fresh shells into his shotgun. “Let me see your hands!”
Shaking, Marty did what he was told.
“Climb out of there.”
“Sheriff, I busted my nuts so hard when I fell that my stomach's cramping something fierce. I doubt I can walk.”
“Keep 'em up there, then.” Ready to shoot again, Cody peered over the hole to see Marty lying in a two-foot deep wallow in the dirt made either by dogs or hogs. The mounded dirt absorbed the pellets from John's shotgun. From his angle, Cody's bullets impacted the floor joists and nothing else.
Crow steered into the Western Skies motel, off the highway alive with a mix of new and old cars sporting fins, two-tone colors, long hoods, and deep trunks. He had unfinished business with the Parkers behind the chipped red door and felt bad about the way he'd left them.
James was watching out the window and yanked the door open before Crow could get out of the car. He checked the front seat, but Pepper wasn't there. “What happened? Where is she?”
Glancing over his shoulder, Crow pushed past him into the room. “Y'all need to get your stuff and get out of town. Right now. Listen to me, James, you do the driving and stay below the speed limit. If y'all get pulled over, you don't know me and whatever they ask you, say you ain't got no idea what they're talking about. You've been in this room all morning and now you're leaving, on your way back home 'cause Ned's sick.”
Ned
was
sick, but he raised up on an elbow, jiggling the paper cup half full of cold coffee. Cale hadn't noticed the waitress added cream and sugar, and that, in Ned's opinion, ruined it. “What are you talking about?”
Crow pitched the keys to James. “The less you know, the better.” He was already leaving when James grabbed his arm in a surprisingly firm grip.
“Where the hell is my
daughter
?”
“I don't
know
where she is.”
“You went to get her.”
“No, I didn't.” Crow gently pulled James' fist from his sleeve. “I went to get my
sister
! Pepper's not there. She never was.”
The strange turn of events made Ned's feverish head spin. Still, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, groaning at the pain in his stomach. He couldn't straighten, and instead tilted his head to see. “Clear this up, Crow.”
“We don't have time to talk. I gotta get gone before the police show up. They pulled me over and I fought with a cop. They're probably looking for James' car right now.”
He turned to leave and froze at the distinctive sound of a cocking pistol. The muzzle of Ned's .38 was less than ten feet away. The old man suddenly appeared much healthier than he had only moments before.
“You ain't going nowhere till you tell us what happened this morning.” He couldn't miss at that range. “If you try to leave, I'll shoot your kneecap off and you'll wind up under arrest anyway, and I have a good idy that you've been in trouble with the law before, so you better start talking, boy.”
Cale's eyes were wide as saucers. “Uh, Crow, you better do what he says. That old man means every word. I know him.” He paused and licked his lips. “He's the best pistol shot in the county.”
Holding the doorknob, Crow sighed. He didn't want to stay, but for the next couple of minutes, he told them everything that had happened from the time he left.
“Fine, then.” Ned lowered the pistol. “You fought the police. If they show up I'll tell them you're under arrest for warrants back in Texas and I'm taking you in. That might keep you out of jail here for now until we can sort all this out. But you still ain't told us all you know about Pepper.”
“You don't get it, Ned. Pepper ain't
here
. She never
was
here as far as I know. I used y'all to find my sister. She disappeared after a guy come through Tahlequah on a motorcycle a few months back. We all thought she'd been kidnapped. You know Oklahoma law, Ned. They don't care about a Comanche girl disappearing these days. Said she probably run off with some hippies like so many kids do these days.
“But I didn't believe them. She'd never done anything like that before, so I called my brother Rocky and told him where I was going, then I started working my way west. I saw you with a car and a badge, and figured you had money.” He shrugged. “That's all.”
James rubbed his unshaven cheek. “How'd we come to be in Barstow? You said Pepper was here.”
Unable to meet Ned's eyes, Crow settled on talking at Cale because it was easier. “I heard what Ned was doing in the bus station back in Texas. I needed the car and I was flat broke, so I threw in with him. When we got to Amarillo, those gals in that little house there told me where most of the kids were going. One said she'd seen what she took for an Indian girl on her way through, but hell, today all these hippies dress like Indians, so it could have been anyone.”
He shifted toward the window to watch the courtyard. Two or three families were packing their cars to travel. He was glad to see a big Buick had pulled up beside James' sedan, partially blocking it from the street.
“Hey guys. I'm a son of a bitch for it, but I used y'all. Hell, I didn't think I'd give a damn about any of you, but you grew on me.”
James balled his fist and stepped closer. “Pepper! My
daughter
.”
“I don't
know
, man! It was a damned miracle that this boy showed up right at our fingertips. When he mentioned the bike gang, and told us about the Rattlers, it was like a gift from God.
Those
were the guys I was looking for.”
Out of nowhere, James caught Crow a lick on the ear. “Don't you talk about God to
us
. You talk about Pepper.”
Staggered by the blow, Crow balled his fists, and then relaxed and held up one hand. His suddenly numb ear rang. “
Dude!
You still don't get it, do you? She ain't here, not as far as I know. She's lost in a stream of kids on their way to California. Your best bet is to wait until she calls home for money like they all do.”
Movement outside caught James' eye. Noticing, Crow followed his gaze. “I told you we shoulda split.”
A police car cruised through the motor court and stopped behind their sedan.