Beneath the Tombstone (The Tombstone Series) (21 page)

“But
the circus is out here,” Jason protested, face plastered to the wall. He
cringed a little as the handcuffs were crimped down, digging into his wrist.

“Should
we put him in solitary confinement?” Andrews asked the sheriff assertively.

“Andrews,”
the sheriff sighed, “we don’t have solitary confinement. But don’t worry, I’ve
got something even better in mind,” he added with a sly grin.

“Boy
oh boy, Sheriff’s got a surprise,” Jason mocked as they led him away, down the
long, noisy hall.

“Meet
Big Jack,” the sheriff said quietly as he came to a halt outside of the last
cell where the hall ended. Andrews gave a hushed chuckle.

“Why
quiet all the sudden?” Jason asked, the volume of his voice making up for their
lack thereof.

“
Ssshhhh
,” both lawmen hissed at the same time then Victor
whispered, “You wake up Big Jack, we’ll all be sorry.”

“Who’s
Big Jack?” Jason asked, his tone no quieter than before.

“You
see that wall?” Sheriff Victor asked, ignoring the question as he pointed at a
wall by the cell door. Jason focused on the wall in question. Yep. Saw the
wall. I mean there it was – right in front of him. “Big Jack has a tendency to
hurt people. There’s a mark on that wall for every man who has walked out of
this cell on his own two feet.”

“It’s
blank,” Jason said in a voice that hinted he hated to have to point out the
obvious.

“Exactly,”
the sheriff replied. Jason rolled his eyes. Oh boy. That was clever. Sheriff
Victor removed the handcuffs from Jason’s wrist. “Get in,” he said in a harsh
whisper while opening the door leading into the cell.

Let’s
see, the sheriff had taken him against his will, nearly froze him to death,
squeezed his hands too hard in the cuffs, and now he expected him to just walk
into the cell of his own accord? “I do believe I need a proper escort,” Jason
spoke like some high-dollar gentleman.

“What
was all that yelling about?” a deep voice from inside the dimly lit cell
demanded.

The
sheriff didn’t say a word. He just shoved Jason inside and slammed the cell
door back shut.  That accomplished, the sheriff and his deputy stopped
outside of the cell window. “I hope you enjoy your stay here, Jason,” the
sheriff spoke in a menacing voice, “because you’ll be here until…”

“How
dare you put someone in my room,” the deep voice growled from the bed. With
that, a figure arose. A tall, thick man with slicked back, jet-black hair
slowly made his way to the barred window that looked out into the hall. With
the confidence of a ruler, he gazed down upon the sheriff and his deputy.

“Haven’t
we gone over this before?” the man asked in a voice that said the sheriff’s
mistake was inexcusable. “When I said nothing in my cell but me, I meant it.”
He then turned and looked at his new cellmate. “Get it out, sheriff,” he
ordered before making his way over to Jason. When the big man got close, he
just stood there and stared. In his eye was the look of a predator… like a
hungry lion that had cornered a crippled antelope, intending to turn it into a
meal. “If you don’t, I will hurt it,” he said before turning back to the
sheriff and slowly walking over to the window. Suddenly, he shot his arms
through the bars, grabbing for the sheriff. He missed by only inches.

Sheriff
Victor leapt back as Deputy Andrews cried out, “Watch ‘
em
sheriff!” But the sheriff didn’t need any encouragement. With eyes wide, he
stared at Big Jack but only for a moment before cutting his gaze away and
scurrying off like a frightened mouse running from a caged cat, the deputy hot
on his heels.

Although
the big man didn’t smile or show any sign of humor, the way he watched the
sheriff and deputy leave hinted that he received great pleasure from their
fear. Then he turned to Jason. “Who’re you?” he asked flatly. “What are you
doing here?”

“I’m
Jason. I was thrown in here. I don’t like it, and I wish to leave now,” Jason
responded in a rush.

The
big man didn’t reply. He just stood there silent for a moment before beginning
to make his way back over to Jason – who was trying to keep it all together.
This guy was a lot taller and a lot thicker than Jason, but it was his presence
that was so unnerving. He seemed cold and unfeeling.
“Keep it together!
Gotta
keep it together!”
Jason coached himself. The
convict could obviously sense fear.

“I
told you my name,” Jason pointed out. “What’s yours?”

When
the giant came to a stop, he was defiantly encroaching on Jason’s personal
space. “Big Jack,” he muttered in Jason’s face.

“So
your real name is Jack?”

“Yes.”

“But
why do they call you
Big
Jack, Big Jack?” Jason asked and, as a result,
a confused look came over the big guy’s face.

“Because
I’m big,” Big Jack replied, like it really disturbed him that Jason hadn’t
noticed that himself.

“Yes,”
Jason agreed. “You do seem to be a bit above average.” The bewildered look
remained on the giant’s face. “Have you ever thought of abbreviating you name?”
Jason asked. “You know, instead of Big Jack you could just go with B.J. – Like
it?”

B.J.
didn’t look happy. Maybe he didn’t like his new name. “Of course there’s
nothing wrong with the name Big Jack. It has a lot of character,” Jason added.
Still nothing.

Jason
turned his head towards the window in the direction which the sheriff had gone.
“You can’t leave me in here!” he yelled. A big hand yanked him around before
being placed over his mouth.

“Hush,”
Big Jack hissed. “I don’t like yelling.”

He
removed his hand from Jason’s mouth. Thank goodness. No telling where that
thing had been or when it had last gotten washed. Big Jack stood for a moment
without saying a word as he used the silence and his icy glare in an attempt to
intimidate Jason. It was working. Jason was feeling intimidated… he just hoped
it wasn’t showing.

“Why’d
they put you in here – in
my
cell?” Big Jack demanded.

“They
think I kidnapped my wife,” Jason answered quickly. Then the whole story began
spilling out. “My wife and I were walking in the park one evening when we were
attacked by three men. They took her from me, sent me a little note telling me
I have to climb the Tombstone or die trying. If I do, they set her free. If I
don’t, they don’t… And now the sheriff somehow has gotten it into his head that
I set the whole thing up.”

Recollection
began to dawn in Big Jacks eyes. “Hey, you’re that guy on TV!” he exclaimed,
his cold, emotionless eyes coming to life.

Jason
stood shocked for a moment, trying to grasp what Big Jack was saying. Then he
remembered the short interview he’d had with a local news lady at the coffee
shop. “Well yeah, I guess so,” Jason admitted. “I did do one little interview.”

“Did
you tell them about the note?” Big Jack asked, obviously intrigued.

“Um,
no,” Jason responded. “Not in detail. The lady knew I had gotten one, though.”

“They
know all of it,” Big Jack said with excitement dancing in his eyes. “They were
talking about it.”

“How?”
Jason asked as his head began to spin. “I only told a few people.”

“Well,”
Big Jack said with a witty smile. “There’s a lot more than a few people wanting
you to tell them stuff now.”

“I
really fired up the local news, huh?” Jason said with a half-hearted chuckle.

“Yeah,”
the big man replied, “not to mention the national media.”

“National
media?” Jason asked, unable to believe his ears. “You mean just a brief
mention?” he questioned, remembering when the incident had first occurred
several big-time news stations had mentioned it in passing.

“No,”
Big Jack responded. “I mean several major news stations are talking and
debating on what happened and what will happen.”

“Wow,”
was all Jason could say.

“Yeah,
wow,” Big Jack agreed. “First your wife disappears… then you. They hear of some
ransom note that’s not a ransom note, and then the rumors began to fly – Is
Jason Hathaway dead? Did he get kidnapped, too? Did he simply run away… or is
he preparing to climb?” Big Jack paused and folded his arms. “And the name of
the rock you’re
gonna
climb… the Tombstone? Awesome!
One TV show host said – I’ll never forget it – she said, ‘Will Jason Hathaway’s
mission take him to the top of the Tombstone… or place him beneath one?’” he
finished with a sweep of his hand for dramatic affect.

“Yes,”
Jason said solemnly, “several people have drawn that parallel.” He paused then
put on a brave smile as he quietly said, “I hope it takes me to the top.”

Big
Jack nodded in agreement. “Me too, my friend. Me too.”

“I’ve
been training,” Jason said, confiding in the big man.

“When
are you getting out so you can get back to it?” Big Jack asked, obviously
bothered by the fact that Jason’s training had been interrupted.

Jason
ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “If the sheriff
has his way, I won’t get out until I pay the time for a crime I didn’t commit.”

“The
sheriff is a fool,” Big Jack spat.

“Yeah,”
Jason agreed. “He’s convinced himself that I’m guilty.”

“Yeah,”
Big Jack lamented. “He thinks I’m guilty, too.”

Jason
paused for a moment before he asked, “You’re not?” The doubt in his voice was
obvious.

“Nope,”
the big man replied.

“Why
are you here then,” Jason questioned, still doubtful.

“I
was framed.”

Jason
held back a scoff. Every criminal behind bars would probably claim the same
thing. “By who?” he asked, trying to sound convinced.

“The
sheriff,” Big Jack replied.

“Seriously?”
Jason asked, growing interested.

“Yep,”
the giant sighed. “I used to run drugs out of Mexico but decided to seek less
profitable but much more honorable work. The sheriff knew I had been dealing
but couldn’t catch me at it. When I went straight, word got out, but he
wouldn’t believe it. One day, he pulled me over, told me to pop the trunk, went
back there and pulled out some of the lining… found more than enough drugs to
call me a dealer.”

“You
think he put ‘
em
there?”

“Yep,”
Big Jack spoke affirmatively. “He went straight to ‘
em
,
man.” He shook his head before adding, “I mean, come on. He couldn’t get the
evidence on me, so he created his own evidence. You don’t want him getting it
in is head that you’re guilty. No sir. True or not, he’ll do whatever it takes
to get you.”

“Yeah,
I noticed that,” Jason sighed then cast a quick glance around the room. There
was only the one bed. No chairs. No privacy. Just the cold hard floor. Oh, and
a metal toilet in one corner. Considering, taking care of business in the great
outdoors hadn’t been so bad.

“Man,
you look exhausted,” Big Jack commented as he studied Jason’s face.

“I
feel
exhausted,” Jason admitted.

“Hey
Jeremiah!” Big Jack yelled out the window. Jason jumped. For a guy who didn’t
like yelling, the big guy was pretty good at it. A moment later, a man walked
up to the cell window. He appeared to be a plumber or janitor or something of
that nature. “Is the sheriff gone?” Big Jack asked.

“Yes
sir. Just left,” was the reply.

“I’ve
got company and only one bed,” Big Jack went on to explain. “Think you could
get us one of them foam mattresses and an extra blanket?”

“Oh
man,” the guy in the window squirmed. “If Sheriff found out he might not be
happy.”

“Sheriff
ain’t
never happy anyways,” Big Jack responded. “Come
on man. Help a guy out. If you had company over, would you make them sleep on
the cold, hard ground?”

“Well,
um, no. No sir, I wouldn’t.”

“Would
you sleep on the cold, hard ground yourself?” the big man persisted.

“Um,
no sir. No sir, I sure wouldn’t.”

“What
would you do?” Big Jack asked, crossing his arms.

The
guy in the window smiled. “Alright, alright,” he said. “You got me. I’ll get
him a mattress to sleep on – Just make sure Sheriff don’t find out.”

“You
have my word,” Big Jack smiled.

“Yeah,
I’d probably feel a lot better about your word if it wasn’t spoken between
bars,” the man chuckled as he turned and walked away.

A few
minutes later, he was back with the foam mattress. “I don’t have the keys,” he
stated. “I can’t open the door.”

“Just
shove it in between the bars,” Big Jack instructed. “If I thought you had the
keys, we’d be a lot better friends.”

Both
men chuckled as they wedged, pushed, and pulled the mattress into the cell. It
worked, and a blanket was soon to follow.

After
Big Jack tossed the mattress on the ground and chunked the blanket on top of
it, he asked, “What about a pillow?”