Bobby Cole - The dummy line

“That’s got to be them!” R.C. exclaimed after the shot. He let out a deep breath. He had been looking around where the Jeep was parked.

“How far away was that?” Tillman asked.

“Not more than a mile,” R.C. said as he stared in the direction of the shot, “but it’s hard to be sure. It may be closer.”

“Is there a road that will take us closer?” he asked excitedly after the second shot. He took a directional reading from the compass on his watch.

“No, not that I’m aware of,” Tillman replied after a moment.

“I’m going on; you need to stay here,” R.C. said in a very serious voice. “It could be dangerous.”

“Whoa, whoa, I’m going with you. You’re not leaving me.”

R.C. was checking his pistol and his flashlight. Patting his belt, he felt the additional rounds of ammunition and the absence of his radio. He fully realized that protocol dictated that he back off and call in support, but R.C. knew he didn’t have time to go all the way back to his cruiser.

Tillman continued, “Tanner was responsible for Elizabeth’s safety. I’m going with you, R.C.”

R.C. stopped to listen to Tillman. He could hear the concern in his voice, and he really didn’t want to chase these guys alone.

“OK, but you have to do exactly what I say,” R.C. insisted.

“No problem. I know you’re doing what you think is right, and I agree with you.”

“You sure?” R.C. asked, as he reached down and took a small revolver from his ankle holster. He checked it, then gave it to Tillman. Taking a deep breath, Tillman gripped it tightly.

“I can use it if I have to,” he said calmly.

R.C. nodded, then clicked on his flashlight. “Let’s go get to the bottom of all this mess!”

Ollie opened his office door. He glanced around the room at everybody diligently working. There were a few new faces in the crowd.

“Miz Martha, have you gotten in touch with R.C.?” Ollie asked.

“No sir.” She sighed with frustration.

Ollie stood thinking. That piece of property’s very remote, or maybe his handheld just isn’t working. The battery could be drained. He probably doesn’t even have it turned on-which would be typical of R.C.

“Have Ricky go and check on him. I’m sure in all his years of game wardening he knows the lay of that land. Tell him to just look for R.C. and report in. No hero crap.”

“Yes sir. Sheriff, the helicopter will be here in about twenty minutes.”

“Does it have a searchlight?”

“No one’s mentioned one. I don’t think so.”

“Me either…so we’ll have to wait until it’s daylight,” he said, looking at his watch. “At least an hour I’d guess. I just don’t know. I don’t ever get up this early.”

“That’s about right,” Martha confirmed. She knew exactly when daylight occurred.

Glancing up, Ollie saw Zach Beasley talking firmly to someone on his cell phone. He turned back to Martha.

“Have you heard from the hospital?” Ollie asked, sipping his coffee.

“Tanner hasn’t changed. He’s stable, and the Mississippi lady’s doin’ better,” she explained.

“Mick will be here soon. I think he knows everybody mixed up in this,” Ollie said with a tone of exasperation.

Martha reached for the ringing phone. Ollie watched Zach pacing back and forth like a caged animal; he was off the phone. The front door opened, and Marlow strutted back in after copping his media fix. He went straight for the coffeepot and a day-old doughnut. Ollie glanced back at Martha. He could tell from her tone that it was an important call. She started waving at him as he headed back to his office.

Ollie’s phone beeped. He picked up the receiver as he sat down.

“Sheriff Landrum,” he answered.

“Sheriff, this is Bill Bracker from the Alabama Bureau of Investigation. I met a guy through a friend a few years ago-I hardly remember him; I spoke to the Rotary Club there-and anyway, he just called me. A Mr. Zach Beasley. He’s worked up something fierce. What’s going on over there? Anything I can help with?” he asked with a thick Southern accent.

Ollie could tell that he was very genuine in his concern. So he gave Bracker the story from the start and explained the dragnet that they were throwing over the area. Ollie knew that Bill Bracker could lend some serious manpower, and he needed it. It didn’t bother him at all that Zach had called Bracker.

“Sheriff, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna send you some men from our Tuscaloosa and Birmingham offices. I could have sent some guys from Montgomery on the helicopter if I had known. It sounds like you have a good plan, and I don’t want to usurp your authority. When my guys arrive, you deploy them however you see fit. I’ll keep in touch. The Bureau will be glad to assist any way it can,” he offered sincerely.

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate it.”

“Since Marlow’s there, I’m sure the TV crews are on site already,” Bracker added and then chuckled.

“Oh, yeah.”

“Yeah, well, that old goat loves the cameras, but you don’t need that distraction right now. You especially don’t need the media scrutiny. Stay focused; my boys are en route. I’m a phone call away. Here’s my home number. Please keep me posted.”

“Yes sir. And thanks again,” Ollie replied as he jotted down the ABI chief’s home phone number.

“No problem. Good luck, Sheriff.”

Ollie walked out of his office straight to the big table with the county topographic map. While he studied it, Marlow walked up and set down his cup of coffee, spilling some on the wooden table. He stretched and coughed. Ollie never looked up.

“We haven’t heard from R.C. in a while. I sent him with Steve Tillman to check out Tillman’s property. We think that’s where the kids may have been.”

“You worried?” Marlow asked, sipping his coffee loudly.

“Hell yeah. This ain’t good. ABI called. They’re sending some men.”

“Bill Bracker?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good; that’s real good.” Marlow knew the ABI involvement would raise the media’s interest.

“What are we missing, Marlow?” Ollie asked, staring at the map. He wanted to make sure he had all the bases covered-those he could reach.

“Let’s walk through it. Tell me where you have everybody,” Marlow said, pulling out a chair to sit down.

Ollie leaned over the table and sighed. He pointed toward the gate on the Dummy Line. “All right, your superstar Deputy Lewis is stationed there.

“I’m securing the junction of these two country roads. I have a man heading down into here to check on R.C. and Steve Tillman, and I sent Larson down this road here that runs past the camp house. Your other deputy-I can’t remember his name-is on this county road.”

“That’s Conner. He’s a good man,” Marlow added.

“I have two Livingston policemen searching Johnny Lee’s trailer. Judge Cross didn’t hesitate signing the search warrant.”

“We need more judges like him. He appreciates good police work,” Marlow said.

“And Elizabeth is his niece,” Ollie added. “Lakreshia is here to help Miz Martha with the APBs and other details. I’m going up with the helicopter when it gets here.” Ollie stared at the expanse of river swamp shaking his head. He knew it would be a hard search. “Hell, they could be a hundred miles from here by now…that’s why I hate to commit everything to one area.”