Joe Dillard: Reasonable Fear Part 22

It was the most welcome voice I'd ever heard, and it belonged to Leon Bates.

Chapter Forty.

I wanted to leave, to get straight back to Caroline and the kids, but I stuck around while Leon and his people did what they had to do. Before long, the place was crawling with sheriff's department investigators, deputies and emergency medical people. I gave a written statement to Rudy Lane while deputies and investigators tagged and bagged evidence and the medical folks carted away the bodies. Bates gave Rudy a written statement, too, which rea.s.sured me. He also showed Rudy a digital camera that El Maligno had been carrying.

"There's a photo of brother Dillard on this camera," Bates said. "I'm not gonna show it to you because I don't think he'd want anybody to see it. If anybody questions how we handle this investigation, it'll be my hole card."

It was good to know that Leon was back on my side. If anyone could keep the politicians at bay, it was him.

After I talked to Rudy, I went into the bathroom and took the longest shower of my life. I dressed and walked around the inside of the house surveying the damage. The front entrance was destroyed and so was the entrance in back where they'd blown the door. The Claymore had torn up a couple of walls and shattered three windows. I'd put a dozen holes in the sheetrock by the stairwell leading to the bas.e.m.e.nt. The bodies were gone, but there was still blood all over the place. It was pretty bad, but it was fixable. I figured it would take in the neighborhood of ten thousand dollars to get it back to where it was. I was so punchy that I actually wondered for a second whether my homeowner's policy might cover the damage. I looked out the front window and saw news vans parked about a hundred yards up the road. Somebody had already leaked the story. By daybreak, dozens of gawkers were standing in the road like a herd of cattle.

Mack and Leah McCoy showed up about the same time the reporters began arriving. I was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when Mack strode into the room and stopped five feet away from me. I'd taken half a dozen aspirin by that time and my head was still pounding. He folded his arms across his ma.s.sive chest and glowered at me.

"You lied to me," he said.

"Not exactly. It happened fast, Mack."

"That's not what I'm talking about. It's obvious you didn't need my help, but from the looks of this place and from what I've already heard, you had more than a shotgun and a pistol."

It was the second time he'd made me smile.

"You're right. I lied."

"You know something? I always thought the Rangers were overrated. I guess maybe I was wrong."

"Wow, Mack, I'll bet you don't say that often."

"So what about your wife and kids? You said they're in Michigan. When are they coming back?"

I'd called Caroline and told her, without giving her many details, that I was okay and that I thought it might be over. She wanted to get Bo to take everyone straight to Detroit so they could fly home, but I told her to sit tight. There was one more thing I needed to confirm.

"Not yet," I said to Mack. "I have to talk to someone first."

I texted Erlene Barlowe a couple of hours later. I was surprised she responded immediately since she her club didn't close until three in the morning. She was up, though, and agreed to meet me at the edge of a Wal Mart parking lot in Colonial Heights. She pulled up in her red Mercedes and motioned for me to get into her car, so I climbed in the pa.s.senger side. She was wearing a black and white cheetah print blouse with a plunging neckline and her usual black, spandex pants. She smelled like incense and cinnamon. She drove out of the parking lot and pulled onto Highway 36.

"They're talking about you on the radio, sugar," she said.

"What are they saying?"

"Must have been some gunfight. They're making it sound like the OK Corral."

"Yeah, it was pretty intense."

"They're saying the sheriff was involved."

"He showed up out of nowhere," I said. "I don't know when and I don't know why, but if he hadn't, I'd be dead."

She looked over and gave me a coy smile.

"Leon's a good boy," she said, "but like any man, he needs a little guidance now and then."

"What do you mean, a little guidance?"

"He just needed a little talking to is all. Leon forgets sometimes what's really important in life. He gets too involved in all that political mess, worries too much about what people think. I just reminded him what a good friend you've been. I reminded him how you stood up for him in front of that judge a few years back and how you let him take the credit when that awful Satan wors.h.i.+pper got killed and-"

"Wait just a second," I said. "How could you possibly know about that?"

She winked at me, the smile still on her lips.

"You and Leon?" I said. "How long? How serious is it?"

"A southern girl doesn't kiss and tell, sweetie."

I shook my head in disbelief. Leon Bates and Erlene Barlowe. d.a.m.n. Truth really was stranger than fiction.

"So you're the reason he showed up?"

"I wouldn't put it exactly like that," she said, "but then again, maybe I would. I suppose my influence had something to do with him keeping a close eye on you last night. You know what he told me? He said you're the bravest man he's ever known. One of the smartest, too. He said those boys that came gunning for you didn't have a chance. He also said he didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse over shooting that last man, what did he call him? El Malarkey or something like that. He said he didn't feel a bit bad about shooting that man in the head. Said he'd do it again in a skinny minute."

I chuckled at the thought of Bates using the phrase "skinny minute."

"You've already talked to him then," I said. "You guys must be pretty close."

"Stop it, sugar. I'm not going to reveal any intimate details. All I'll say is that the sheriff and I have formed a mutual respect for each other."

Mutual respect. She was priceless.

"What about John Lips...o...b.." I said.

Her eyes tightened just a tick and her voice took on a more serious tone.

"I'm not going to say much about him either, but I'll tell you just a couple of things. First, you don't have to worry about him anymore. And second, I'm told he peed his pants and cried like a baby."

"So it's over?"

She nodded.

"My girls can rest in peace now, and you can go ahead and tell your family it's safe to come back home. John Lips...o...b..is in h.e.l.l where he belongs."

By that time, Erlene had pulled onto I-81 and was now taking the ramp to I-26, headed south toward Johnson City and Erwin.

"Where are we going?" I said.

"John Lips...o...b..isn't the only person in the world who has money," she said. "I've got a beautiful place in the mountains over by Ashville. It's less than an hour away. I have a private chef who is fixing us a lunch fit for a king. There'll be wine and champagne and fancy fixins all over the place. We're going to have us a little victory celebration."

"Just me and you?"

"Leon's meeting us there, sugar. It'll be fun."

Chapter Forty-One.

The clock on the courtroom wall read 9:02 a.m.

It was a Tuesday morning and Judge Adams had just entered. He was holding what he called a "miscellaneous day," a session of court that involved the judge taking few pleas, hearing a couple of motions, and asking about the status of upcoming trials. It was a slow day by criminal court standards. There were only thirty cases on the docket. The gallery was less than half full. There were no reporters or cameras. I wouldn't normally have been in the courtroom. Tanner Jarrett usually handled miscellaneous days in Judge Adams's court. But I had an announcement, one that I had shared with exactly two people: my wife and Leon Bates.

It had been less than two weeks since the battle with the Colombians. None of the men I killed had any identification on them, nor did El Maligno, the murderer whose brains were blown out by Leon Bates. Mack McCoy leaked information about him to the media, though, which helped solidify the notion that what I'd done was at least understandable. There was a huge blitz that lasted about a week. There were newspaper stories, television stories, internet stories. Reporters tried to get in contact with me, but I refused to indulge them. They lingered outside my home until I finally turned Rio loose on them. Talking heads pontificated on television, discussing the morality and the legality of what I'd done. I didn't pay much attention.

And then, like all big stories, it fizzled out.

My family arrived at the Tri-Cities airport a few hours after the lunch I shared with Erlene Barlowe and Bates. It was obvious that the two of them had developed far more than the "mutual respect" Erlene had mentioned. They acted like a couple of love-struck teenagers. The kids hung around for a couple of days, but then Jack went back to Arizona to continue his baseball career and Lilly went back to Knoxville to finish out the semester. Sarah swore the experience had sobered her enough that she didn't need to go to rehab. I was skeptical, but given the circ.u.mstances, I let it slide.

Caroline and I made love as soon as we managed some privacy. And then we made love again, and again. I couldn't get enough of her. It was intense, and it was beautiful.

Andres Pinzon came out of hiding a week after the gunfight and was running Equicorp. John Lips...o...b..had disappeared without a trace. Most people thought he'd run away to escape prosecution for the murders of the three girls, and Leon Bates reinforced that notion at every opportunity.

I stood after Judge Adams got settled in.

"I have an announcement for the court," I said. "The state is moving to dismiss all charges against John Lips...o...b.. Andres Pinzon and Nelson Lips...o...b.."

Judge Adams raised his nose like he was sniffing and looked around the courtroom. An announcement of such magnitude would normally have been accompanied by fanfare. Bates was standing about fifteen feet to my right, near a door that was used by attorneys, clerks, probation and police officers.

"Dismissing the charges?" Judge Adams said. "Just like that?"

"Yes, judge. Just like that. Our most important witnesses are dead. We can't prove our case."

"Are you moving to dismiss with prejudice or do you want to be able to reinstate the charges later if you develop more evidence?"

"With prejudice."

Judge Adams was stunned, but there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say. The decision of whether or not to prosecute a case fell directly to the district attorney general. The judge hesitated for about thirty seconds, but then he said in his most formal tone, "Very well. Case dismissed with prejudice."

I walked to where Bates was standing and put my arm around his shoulders.

"Step into the jury room with me for a minute, would you?" I said.

We walked into the empty room where jurors deliberate during trials. I pulled an envelope out of the inside pocket of my jacket and handed it to him. It was addressed to Lincoln Donner III, the governor of Tennessee.

Bates looked at it and said, "Is this what I think it is?"

"Caroline and I have talked about it a lot, Leon. I'm not a politician."

"You're right about that, brother Dillard."

"Deliver it in person, will you?"

"With pleasure. You want me to give him that old Johnny Paycheck line?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, Leon, that'd be perfect. Tell him he can take this job and shove it."

About the Author:.

Scott Pratt was born in South Haven, Michigan, and moved to Tennessee when he was thirteen years old. He is a veteran of the United States Air Force and holds a bachelor of arts degree in English from East Tennessee State University and a Doctor of Jurisprudence from the University of Tennessee College of Law. He lives in Northeast Tennessee with his wife and four dogs.

www.scottprattfiction.com.

Also by Scott Pratt.

An Innocent Client (Joe Dillard #1) Oct. 2012.

(re-release).

In Good Faith (Joe Dillard #2) Oct. 2012 (re-release).

Injustice for All (Joe Dillard #3) Nov. 2012 (re-release).

Reasonable Fear (Joe Dillard #4) (re-release).

Finding Lindsay (Joe Dillard #5) Dec. 2012.

(new release).

Russo's Gold (Charlie Story #1) Jan. 2013 (re-release).