The Dummy Line (14 page)

R.C. and Larson were talking when they heard a distant gunshot. R.C. pointed and explained that the shot had come from the west; Larson pointed south. Ollie was staring intently at the radiophone and didn’t have a clue; he never offered a guess.

“It’s hard to course a direction on a single unexpected gunshot,” R.C. explained, “’specially in these thick-planted pines.”

R.C. and Larson argued for a minute about the direction and whether it was related to any of the night’s events. In the country, gunshots are heard at all hours. A single shot this late at night usually meant some stray just got dead getting into someone’s trash. Ollie returned his attention to the phone.

“Damn it…that phone call caught me off guard,” Ollie said.

“Well, at least you know it’s Johnny Lee Grover. That’s a starting point, Chief,” R.C. said.

“Johnny Lee always has Reese Turner with him. Those guys are joined at the hip. That Turner dude makes my skin crawl,” Larson added.

“Should we call him back?” Larson asked, holding Shug’s leash.

“That’s not a bad idea. But what should we say?” Ollie responded.

A minute passed in silence.

“Let’s think about this. Obviously they’re not together, but somehow Johnny knows something about the girl,” Ollie said. “Where does this Tiny character live?”

“I don’t know,” R.C. responded.

“Find out.”

“Yes sir, boss.”

“Larson, do you know where the—what the hell’s the name of that huntin’ club?” Ollie asked looking at R.C.

“Bogue Chitto. It’s Indian for—”

“Larson, do you know where that camp is? It’s maybe fifteen miles back down this road,” Ollie interrupted, rolling his eyes at R.C.

“Yes sir, sure do.”

“Go there. See if that mutt can find anything other than his own balls. We found some blood earlier tonight in front of the camp house. It may be turkey blood. I need to know if there’s anything else in the high grass. All this may be connected. Radio me when you get finished. I’ll probably have something else for you to do. In fact, I may want you to go to this Tiny character’s place and check it out.”

“Yes sir,” Larson said as he ran to his car.

“R.C., all this must be connected, but I sure hope it isn’t. I need you to stay here and keep your eyes and ears open. Don’t try and be a hero. I’m gonna ride down this road while I radio the Beasleys.”

“You got it, Chief. Be careful.”

“Stay close to your radio.”

Ollie pulled his Expedition even with the big Chevy truck, easing between it and the gateposts.

“Unit One to Base.”

“Go ahead, One,” Martha promptly responded.

“Are the Beasleys there yet?”

“I expect them any minute. Mr. Tillman just pulled into the parking lot.” That surprised Ollie. He expected him to be at the hospital.

“Call me when they all arrive. Miz Martha, get me Sheriff Marlow…no, no, I’ll get back to you on that.”

“Ten-four, Sheriff.”

Ollie didn’t want to deploy another county’s deputies until he had more facts. He laid the microphone across his leg and stared down the road.
Where in the world are Elizabeth and Tiny and Johnny Lee and the four-wheeler? They could be anywhere. It’s miles and miles of woods. The shot could have been anything.
Just as he started easing down the Dummy Line, the radio crackled.

“Sheriff, they’re here.”

“OK, put them by the radio so they can hear me.”

Ollie stared out the window for a second trying to decide how much to tell them. He decided to concentrate on the events around Tanner and Elizabeth. He nodded as he decided not to tell them about the mysterious phone call. It might not even be related. He grabbed the microphone.

“Mr. and Mrs. Beasley, let me tell you what we know. One of my deputies just happened to find Tanner Tillman on the old road they call the Dummy Line. As y’all know, he was beat up pretty bad. We did find your daughter’s purse in the Jeep, but we haven’t found her yet. We don’t have any serious leads right now. We just don’t have anything. I need to know who was with them, if anybody; where they were going; and establish a time-line. There could be other kids missing. This could be some type of an accident…we just don’t know. We don’t need to jump to any conclusions.”

“We’ll get you the answers, Ollie,” Steve Tillman responded.

“We also need to know if there any conflicts in Tanner’s life right now…any enemies?” Ollie said. “But let me add…finding Elizabeth is our top priority right now, so we need to know everything.”

Elizabeth’s mother started crying again. She was hanging on every word. Elizabeth’s father, Zach, had a lump in his throat and could hardly speak. Olivia remembered speaking to Elizabeth as she and Tanner left the baseball game at about nine o’clock. She was pretty sure they had been by themselves, but they might have met some friends after the game. She didn’t know. Elizabeth usually got back home by eleven. Sometimes Tanner stayed for a while and they watched television. Tonight, the Beasleys were exhausted from the tax deadline and the drinks celebrating the end of tax season, so they had gone straight to bed after arriving home past midnight.

Tillman truthfully said he wasn’t aware of any problems in Tanner’s life. He added that he owned a hundred sixty acres that was accessible off the Dummy Line. Maybe they had gone there for some reason.

Ollie agreed that it would be worth a look since all this was just unfolding. He assured them that he was doing all he could and would keep them informed.

“How is your son, Mr. Tillman?” Ollie asked, genuinely concerned.

“It’s serious, Sheriff, but they don’t think its life-threatening. The doctor said he should be OK with some time…he was just in so much pain when he got there. I haven’t spoken with him. He’s heavily sedated. His condition is listed as stable. I’d be glad to come and show you where the property is if you need me to. There’s nothing I can do at the hospital, and I just had to come here to try to understand…maybe make sense out of…and I want to help find Elizabeth.” Tanner had recently asked his father how he would know when he met the right girl to marry, and he knew he was referring to Elizabeth.

Ollie could tell that Mr. Tillman was beginning to choke up. “That’s not a bad idea, sir. Let me call in some deputies and get one to bring you out here. Mr. and Mrs. Beasley, it might be best for you to go home and sit by the phone. She might try to call or actually come home. Call the sheriff’s office if you hear anything.”

Olivia Beasley insisted on going to the hospital in case Tanner said something that might help. She needed to be there. Ollie understood all these emotions, and he agreed, but he asked that Zach return to their house.

“Y’all give Miz Martha all the info—anything you can think of. She knows what to ask, and she’ll pass it on to me. The whole sheriff’s department is focused on this right now.”

They all agreed. Tillman hugged Mrs. Beasley. They felt each other’s pain. They didn’t really know what to say to each other. They didn’t have to say anything.

Ollie started back down the Dummy Line.

The cracking sound of the gunshot piercing the silence of the night made Reese jump. It was obviously very close. The screaming escalated after the shot. He took off running in the direction of the screams as fast as he could through the dark brush. Reese knew how to cover serious ground. He desperately wanted to be a part of whatever was going down. As he dodged limbs and jumped logs, he wondered who had answered Tiny’s phone. That bothered him. It was a mystery, and he hated mysteries.

As Reese approached the scene of all the commotion, he stopped to listen. He thought he heard a girl’s muffled screams; he definitely could hear a familiar man’s voice, sobbing and mumbling. Reese was very confused and extremely careful as he began to slip forward. About a hundred yards ahead, Reese could see a faint flashlight beam. He crept closer, careful not to make a sound. Reese eased the Browning rifle off his shoulder and carried it in front of him with the safety off.

“I told you…I warned you…why didn’t you listen to me?”

Hearing Tiny’s ramblings added to Reese’s confusion. Reese silently worked his way closer. From the edge of the clearing, he could see a body lying in the field. Tiny was standing next to it holding a pistol. A small flashlight was lying next to the body, shining ominously through the grass. Reese couldn’t see anyone else.

“Tiny. It’s Reese. What’s wrong? What the hell’s goin’ on?”

Tiny, startled, jumped back a few feet and pointed the big stainless steel revolver at Reese.

“Shit, Tiny! It’s me, Reese!” he exclaimed. “Put that damn cannon down!”

Tiny dropped the pistol to his side and fell forward on his knees. The gun fell out of his hand into the grass.

Reese approached cautiously. He was horrified to realize that it was Sweat who was dead. Apparently, Johnny Lee’s killer had also shot Sweat. Reese didn’t liked Sweat very much, but he hadn’t wanted him killed.

“Tiny, what the hell happened?” Reese asked. He bent over to check Sweat. He could see a huge hole in the back of his head. “What the hell happened!”

Tiny began to sob louder. His head hanging, he mumbled, “I told him not to…I told him I couldn’t let him hurt—”

“Hurt who? The kid? Where’s the guy who killed Johnny Lee? What the hell’s goin’ on?” Reese asked, jumping to conclusions. He stared at Sweat’s body. It looked like a cold-blooded execution.

“Tiny, what happened? Did he shoot Sweat? I don’t…where is he? Tiny! Tiny! Listen to me. Pull yourself together, man. Tell me what the hell happened!”

Reese quickly looked up at the sound of someone running through the woods. He held up his hand for Tiny to be silent. Then he turned toward Tiny. “Tiny, where’s your phone?” Tiny was in another world, gazing at Sweat’s body. Reese knew he wasn’t going to get any answers.

Reese was beyond pissed off. He really didn’t know what had just happened, but his best friend was dead, and now so was a member of their gang. He assumed the same guy was responsible for both. Revenge was all he could think about.

“Tiny, where’s Johnny Lee’s killer? He didn’t get by you, did he?”

“The Dummy Line’s blocked. He can’t get out,” Tiny mumbled finally.

“So he’s still in here…that makes sense. I heard him driving east—twenty or thirty minutes ago,” Reese thought aloud. “How’d ya get down here?”

“Four-wheeler.”

Reese needed stealth to stalk his prey. But the four-wheeler would be helpful to get out later if he didn’t find the killer’s truck.
What do I do with Tiny? He’s worthless now. What do I do with Sweat’s body? Shit. I got too much going on.

“OK, get yourself together. I’m goin’ after the killer. Where’s your phone? Your radiophone that Johnny Lee bought you. Where is it?” Reese demanded, exasperated.

“I think…it’s at home.” Tiny was finally coming around, and he began to realize that Reese didn’t know that he had killed Sweat. He knew he had done the right thing. He had a sister who had been raped, and had seen the trauma she endured. He revered women. Hearing Sweat joke about abusing women made him sick, but he had to keep Reese from knowing the truth about Sweat’s death.

It made sense to Reese that Tiny’s phone was at his house. Some drunken idiot had probably answered his call. But why didn’t Tiny have the phone with him? Reese let the question slide for now.

“Who was doin’ all that screamin’?”

“It was a girl, maybe seventeen or eighteen,” Tiny weakly replied.

“Really?” Reese said and thought,
Could it have been the killer’s girlfriend? Wife? His daughter? What about the toys, the small
sleeping bag. Nothin’s makin’ any sense
. Reese’s head was beginning to ache. He wanted to avenge Johnny Lee’s death and, to a lesser degree, Sweat’s.

“What was going on?” he calmly asked, hoping Tiny would open up and talk.

“Sweat was tryin’ to…you know…have his way.”

“That’s our boy. Sweat went out doin’ what he loved, huh? Was there a little kid?” Reese asked coldly, thinking about the books and toys.

“I didn’t see one.” The less Reese knew right now, the better.

“OK, Tiny…that’s OK. Which way did they go?”

Tiny, with his head still down, simply pointed.

Reese could do this by himself. In fact, it might be better if he did. Tiny couldn’t move silently through the woods, and based on his current mental state, he wasn’t going to be much help.

“I’m goin’ after ‘em. There’s no way you can pick up Sweat’s body and get him in the back of your truck by yourself. Go get your four-wheeler and wait for me right here. Keep your eyes open. OK?” Reese said, bending down to look in Tiny’s eyes.

“Hey, Tiny? Look at me,” Reese said and added when Tiny raised his eyes to him, “If I’m not back by daylight, get the hell outta here…and meet me at the trailer. Got it?” Reese snapped authoritatively.

Tiny nodded. Reese slung his rifle over his shoulder and took off in the direction Tiny had pointed.