Bobby Cole - The dummy line

Trying to return a favor for a buddy, Moon Pie had gotten himself into a neck-deep pile of trouble. His gut was telling him to run.

Ethan “Moon Pie” Daniels sped away from his planned rendezvous with Reese, thinking he would head straight to Memphis, and then on up to Missouri to a remote fishing camp deep in the Ozarks. He could lie low. Nobody would be suspicious. He’d be just another eccentric fly-fisherman. He had about four grand in cash on him and enough weed to raise maybe another twenty. The hillbillies would buy it all, including the seeds. The Ozarks were the perfect hideout. He could catch some trout and hang until he knew exactly what was going down. I can be there in six hours. Maybe seven. And my old lady won’t even miss me, as long as she’s got Internet access. Or, I’ll… .

By the time Moon Pie reached Macon, Mississippi, his mind was made up.

Ollie and Joe Wilson were headed out the front door, when Martha screamed and jumped up and down like she’d just won the lottery.

“What the hell?” Ollie said with his hand on the front door.

“R.C. has them all. Elizabeth and the guy from West Point and his daughter! He’s got ‘em all!” she said excitedly.

“Where are they?” he asked after he let out a deep sigh of relief.

“They’re on their way to the hospital. They’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“Let’s go!” Ollie said to everyone. The entire Sumter County sheriff’s staff began racing for the door. Nobody thought to tell Marlow. He was in the bathroom tucking in his shirttail, which had pulled out while he was setting up the official podium.

“Damn it, R.C. Answer me!” Ollie finally said after three unsuccessful attempts to contact the deputy via radio. There were several questions he needed answered immediately.

When Ollie turned the corner to the ER entrance, he did not see R.C.’s cruiser in the parking lot. He could see TV camera crews sitting on the ground resting. They obviously did not know what was about to happen, but they would react quickly. Parking on the side of the building, Ollie glanced back down the road. Several cars were approaching at high rates of speed. R.C.’s cruiser was not one of them. He folded his arms and waited.

Martha O’Brien screeched her car to a stop and sprinted by him without a glance, headed inside to spread the news to Mrs. Tillman and Mrs. Beasley. Ollie smiled. He noticed the camera crews were staring at him. One female reporter was approaching to ask a question. While the reporter was walking toward him, Ollie noticed Zach Beasley drive up and scurry into the hospital.

“What’s going on, deputy? Where’s Sheriff Marlow?” asked the reporter insolently.

The question burned Ollie. He counted to five before responding sternly, “I am Sumter County Sheriff Ollie Landrum. Sheriff Marlow is either at my office or on his way here.”

“Sorry, Sheriff. What’s going on?” asked the vacuous, perfectly groomed blond reporter.

“You’ll know in a few minutes,” he said, looking up the road for blue lights. He wanted to preserve the illusion that he knew what was going on. This is classic R.C.…keep everybody in the dark, Ollie thought. The reporter started frantically waving at her cameraman to get ready.

Suddenly, the ER’s automatic doors opened. Nurses, orderlies, and all manner of hospital personnel came running out with wheelchairs and stretchers. Ollie observed the enthusiasm of a small town in a crisis. He noticed Martha and Olivia Beasley in the crowd and another woman who had to be Mrs. Tillman.

A car screeched to a stop by the ER. Its passengers-a young lady and man-raced across the parking lot straight to Mrs. Tillman. Must be Tanner’s sister and brother-in-law. Ollie couldn’t hear what they were saying. Their hugs and tears spoke volumes.

Looking back up the road, Ollie couldn’t see any blue lights. He did see an eighteen-wheeler making the turn. Ollie spun around to look at the crowd. Anticipation was running high. It was similar to a high school football team returning from a big victory-except for the wheelchairs and gurneys.

When the big diesel started to pull into the ER, Ollie almost ran out to stop him. But something told him to wait. Then he saw Steve Tillman’s smiling face in the passenger’s side window. He immediately hurried to help open the door before the truck stopped.

“We found them, Ollie!” Tillman exclaimed and then turned to start climbing down. “Elizabeth has a hurt ankle, but other than that, I think she’s fine!” he said loudly over the idling diesel engine. “We’ll have to help her out.”

Ollie was so relieved to see Elizabeth Beasley’s smiling face. He helped Tillman assist her in climbing down. They set her in a waiting wheelchair. The television camera lights were blinding. Everybody was talking excitedly and asking questions. Elizabeth was covered in mud. Her ankle was swollen, but she was smiling and asking about Tanner. She was going to be just fine. Behind her came R.C., grinning. Ollie hugged him when he climbed down.

“Look who else I found, Chief!” he said and pointed up.

A man in muddy wet jeans and a camo hunting vest climbed down. His back was to Ollie. On the seat was a cute little blond-headed girl dressed from head to toe in camouflage. She was waiting for the man to climb out so she could follow. Ollie allowed him to help her down and then placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Jake Crosby?” Ollie asked.

“Yes sir,” Jake said, trying to tell the orderly that he didn’t need a wheelchair.

“We’ve been wonderin’ about you all night.”

“I’m sure glad to be out of those woods. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

“I want to hear-” Ollie said before he was interrupted.

“Jake. Jake!” Mick Johnson called out as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“Mick! Did you get my message?”

“Kinda. We didn’t really know what it meant…what’s with all the blood at your camper?” he asked before Ollie could cut him off.

R.C. picked Katy up and said, “I’ll take her in and get her warmed up.”

Jake nodded his understanding. R.C. avoided the cameras like someone in a witness protection program.

“Sheriff. I killed two men…but they had every intention of killing us, I swear,” Jake said soberly, looking Ollie straight in the eyes.

Two men! Shit! Ollie thought. This was way too much to discuss in the parking lot. But before he could tell Jake to wait, the muddy man added, pointing at Elizabeth, “And I witnessed one of the gang members kill another gangster who was about to rape her.”

The TV reporters and the mass of spectators went wild. Jake hadn’t even noticed the reporters or anyone in the crowd before he started the pandemonium.

Ollie grabbed Jake by the arm. “We need to get outta here. Do you need medical attention?”

“No. I’m OK!” Jake shouted over the reporter’s questions. “But my little girl just got taken inside. I don’t wanna leave her!”

“You need to call your wife. She’s worried,” Ollie added.

“She knows?” Jake asked, confused.

“Yes. We have a lot to talk about, Mr. Crosby,” Ollie answered, putting his arm around Jake and guiding him toward the ER entrance. Mick followed. Out of the corner of his eye, Ollie saw Marlow drive up. Marlow’s face was the picture of jealousy. The deputies cleared a path through the sea of people so Ollie and Jake could go through the automatic doors. Ollie wanted to get Jake into a quiet room and make sure there wasn’t anybody else out there that needed rescuing.