Bobby Cole - The dummy line

Sheriff Marlow headed out to tell the media that command central was going to be set up at the Sumter County Sheriff’s Office. Ollie turned to address the Beasleys. He swallowed hard as he prepared an explanation of a situation that he didn’t understand fully.

“I am so sorry for all this confusion. Let me tell you what we are doing. We are preparing to have a massive search at daylight, a helicopter, an army of men, road by road, house to house. I have my best deputy, R.C. Smithson, and Mr. Tillman headed to check out the Tillmans’ property. All of our deputies and Hale County’s are en route, and I even have the game warden coming in to help search. I’m going to my office to set up a command post there for coordinating everything.” Ollie focused on making direct eye contact throughout the entire conversation.

“Ollie, what do you think happened?” Zach asked.

“I really don’t know, and I hate to speculate. But I can assure you of this, we have every asset at our disposal ready to be utilized.”

“I…I…don’t know what to think,” Zach stammered. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Zach, y’all are welcome at my office. If you want to stay here, I can arrange a private room for you. I need to go. It’s up to y’all.”

“I’m coming with you,” Zach instantly replied, then looked at his wife.

“I’m gonna stay here and pray Tanner wakes up and can talk,” Olivia answered. She sniffled and shook her head, trying to regain her composure.

“You have a cell phone?” Ollie asked.

Olivia nodded and held it up to show him. “I’m hoping she’ll call.”

Ollie decided against telling Mrs. Beasley that he had Elizabeth’s cell phone. She needed hope.

“Good. We’ll keep you up to date. Call us if Tanner wakes up. I need all my deputies right now.”

Olivia grabbed Ollie’s arm and looked him straight in the eyes. “Ollie, please find her…she’s my life.” Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

“Yes ma’am. We will.” This was his chance to really help someone-to make a difference. This was why he had gone into public office. He walked with a purpose through the automatic doors and never slowed when the television camera lights came up.

“No comment right now,” he responded when asked what was going on.

“Sheriff, can you confirm that you have a missing teenager and that foul play is suspected?” the blond reporter asked.

“No comment,” Ollie responded as he climbed into his Expedition and cranked up.

“One to Base,” he radioed as he backed out of the ER driveway.

“Go ahead, Sheriff.”

“I’m headed in to get organized. No TV crews inside. Got it?”

“Yes sir. Sheriff Marlow just arrived and is in your office. I think he is talkin’ to the governor.”

“I hope so. Zach Beasley’s right behind me. If any media show up, keep them away from that poor man.”

Ollie switched on his blue lights and punched the gas.

“You can relax, Mr. Tillman. I’m trained to handle a vehicle at high speeds,” R.C. said, trying to be comforting. R.C. drove much faster than Tillman was accustomed to, but he hadn’t said a word. He’d checked his seat belt several times, and R.C. had seen him once pressing the floorboard as if trying to push a nonexistent brake pedal.

“Don’t worry about me; let’s just get there and find Elizabeth,” he replied, staring straight ahead.

“Do you think we can drive all the way through your property in this car?”

Tillman thought for a second, then said, “We can drive the front part for sure, but we can’t get to the back forty.”

“Yeah, we can. I’ve got the keys to Tanner’s Jeep.”

This caught Tillman by surprise. He realized that he didn’t know any details about what had happened to Tanner. For the last thirty minutes, he had been concentrating on Elizabeth.

“Where’s the Jeep?” he finally asked.

“It’s at the big yellow gate on the Dummy Line.”

“R.C., what do you think happened?”

R.C. paused for a few moments. “I think they drove up on a drug deal or something like that. Methamphetamine’s a huge problem all over west Alabama. We can’t keep up. Meth labs are popping up everywhere…it’s bad and getting worse. Tanner probably never knew what was going on.”

R.C. whipped onto the gravel road. Tillman noticed the West Union Road sign when they turned. The land had been in his family for two generations. At one time, the farm had been much larger, but years of bad crops and inheritance taxes had reduced it to only 160 acres. Eighteen years ago, he had planted the entire property in pines. He planned to pay for Tanner’s college by thinning them. He had many fond memories of hunting and fishing and horseback riding on this property. Now he was scared to death of what he might discover on the land he loved so much.

“Folks that do meth get addicted instantly. In short order, it ruins their lives,” R.C. continued as he managed to insert a fresh dip at seventy miles an hour on the dirt road. Tillman tensed a bit more. “And none of ‘em ever get rehabbed. I mean, it’s unbelievably addictive. Meth heads get real paranoid, too.” Tillman just nodded, tightening his grip on the door handle.

“We had a guy last month that was convinced people were hiding in his appliances. He’d destroyed his oven, his microwave, the dryer, you should have seen his refrigerator, and-” R.C. was getting wound up.

“R.C., I really…can we concentrate on what we need to be doing?” Tillman said, cutting him off.

“Sure. No problem.” R.C. spat into his green bottle. “But they are easy to spot…the addicts…they have sores on their legs, and their teeth rot out in the front.”

“So you think they ran into somebody selling these drugs?” Tillman asked, resigned to the fact that R.C. was not going to stop rambling.

“Yeah…maybe, or there might be a lab out here if there are any old barns or buildings. It just wouldn’t surprise me.” R.C. slowed down and turned onto the Dummy Line.

R.C. kept up his speed until he saw reflections from Tanner’s Jeep.

“The truck’s gone!” R.C. screamed.

“What?” Tillman asked.

“There was a big blue Chevy truck parked right there. I’ve got the keys to it in my pocket!”

“Whose is it?”

“We don’t know for sure. Shit!” R.C. couldn’t believe this. He knew he should radio in to report this, but he didn’t want to take the time at that moment to call from his vehicle.

He parked his patrol car sideways across the road to prevent anyone from leaving and grabbed a handheld radio. They both got out, and he gave Tillman the keys to the Jeep.

“I like Tanner’s Jeep,” R.C. said as he climbed into the passenger’s seat.

“Yeah, he does, too,” Tillman answered solemnly.

The Jeep cranked right up. Tillman backed up, and they started down the Dummy Line. R.C. powered up the handheld unit and pressed the talk button.

“Miz Martha?”

“Go ahead, R.C.”

“I’m mobile with Mr. Tillman, and I’ll only have a handheld for a while.”

“Ten-four. I’ll tell the sheriff.”

“Tell him the blue truck that was at the gate is gone.”

“I will when he gets off the phone. Y’all be careful,” she added, blowing smoke toward the ceiling.

“Let’s go, Mr. Tillman.”

Marlow was sitting at Ollie’s desk. As Ollie walked past Martha O’Brien, she gave him an understanding glance. He stopped to pour himself a cup of coffee. He could see Marlow in his office talking on the landline. Zach Beasley walked in. Martha got up and hugged him. She had that uncanny ability of knowing what to say, and when to say it, that made everyone feel better. She poured Zach a cup of coffee. Ollie could tell she was going to mother him.