Lucas Buck had known he'd slip up. It was just a matter of laying in wait as good ol' Brutus did down by the river. And patience was indeed a virtue. Lucas leaned back against the Buck Mobile and simply watched in the darkness as his target slipped out of Selena's favorite little trollin' spot. Crickets and locusts sang their nightly chorus to whoever would listen.
Wacks from a stolen pool cue sounded throughout the gravel, pot hole riddled parking lot, as the wood rattled against Morgan Lemark's Plymouth Fury, one straight outta Christine itself if Lucas had to place a bet on it.
"Now," Lucas announced, his voice pulling across the stretch of gravel between him and his target, "you just went and committed an act of vandalism," he smirked as he revealed himself, the chorus of insects now deathly silent as Lucas moved across the lot, "and in front of an officer of the law. How stupid are you, boy?"
The man's brows furrowed, "…what?"
Lucas couldn't help but back away at the smell of liquor on his breath, "You weren't gonna chance drivin' home were ya?"
"…what?"
Lucas, again, was left completely amused by these Yankee boys and the way they behaved. Them coming into his town, puffing their chests out like they were somebody and they couldn't even hold their own when it came to good ol' Fulton County apple pie moonshine.
"Drop the cue and get in the car," Lucas answered as he placed a hand upon the drunk's shoulder and shoved him forward, not giving a damn if he fell to the ground.
It didn't take long for Lucas to get his prey in the back of the Buck Mobile where so many had learned the hard way on just what Trinity, South Carolina could do at the behest of Sheriff Lucas Buck. He slammed the back door shut on him and made his way to the driver's side, leaving it up to Trinity to pull the locks down into the inner workings of the car as if Lucas had designed his car to be a death trap.
He started the Crown Vic and smiled as he pulled out from the bar's parking lot, "Her we go Chuck."
Time and alcohol got the best of him and soon he was looking around, hands upon the side of the door searching for the lock to pull up and jump from the car. At the lack of locking mechanism, panic set in and thrashing soon started in.
"Open the door…I can't be cooped up. I gotta get some air," he begged.
Lucas with an amused smirk looked through his rear view mirror before continuing on, "You ain't one of those claustrophobic types, are ya?"
An amusing conversation was exchanged on how he felt sick from drinking too much until Lucas pulled it around to why he was here.
"I think you're special," Lucas lied with ease, "so I've come with an offer in hand."
"Not interested," was slurred across the space of the Crown Vic.
And Lucas had him.
"You know what'll happen if you go down for that murder," he paused for dramatic effect, "They restrain you in a chair, your arms and legs are tied down real tight like. You can't move at all. Then they shave a patch a hair off your head and another on your right leg."
Confusion pulled over the man's features as he half listened and as a sleepiness slowly pulled over him as he listened to Buck's words.
"They smear conductive jelly on the shaved spots. It's dark. You're all alone, can't move. The metal touches your skin, it's cold," his words were calm and almost comforting in resonance as he spoke, "You can hardly breath 'cause panic starts settin' in and our heart is thumpin' in your chest. Then they pull a black hood over your head to block out all the light and all you see is dark, and you wait..and you wait…and you wait…"
Lucas nodded as he watched his prey fall over in his seat, completely passed out.
"You just rest easy, partner," Lucas commented with a triumphant smile, "Tomorrow you're gonna have one helluva day with wakin' up in ol' Bud Hawkin's casket. You're lungs are gonna need all the rest they can get tonight."
