Chapter 41


April 23, 1998 – Southeast of Atlanta

The sun had topped the eastern horizon only an hour earlier when Thompson turned left onto GA-278 toward the Panthersville suburb of Atlanta. Elektra consulted the map once again to locate the turnoff that would take them to the hotel near the Georgia Bureau of Investigation's headquarters.

When they parked in a space across from the hotel lobby, he snapped at her for the third time since they left the interstate, and she called him on it.

"Sorry, just can't wrap my head around it. Not wanting anyone to lie for him is one thing. Not telling Adams where he and the Shapiro kid are holed up is just straight-up stupid!"

She let him rant for a few more minutes, then asked, "You finished being righteously indignant?"

He tried to give her a smug look, but a half-assed smile escaped instead. "Nope."

"Then, maybe we could channel all that righteous indignation into a more positive use of your energy, so you don't go ape-shit on some poor secretary at the GBI this afternoon?"

He shifted his gaze to the hotel entrance and put his hand on the door pull. "It's broad daylight, and we're still in the Bible Belt. You think they'll want us to show a marriage license?"

"No one could accuse you of possessing a spotless mind. It's 1998, not 1948." 41

"Except that it produced Strate. And considering the looks we got in Alabama…Just saying."

Elektra had made it abundantly clear that she didn't believe in the institution of marriage. It was "a collection of platitudes and bromides accompanied by a license embued with a durability factor less than the paper it is printed on."

Considering his personal history, Tommy felt much the same, albeit for less philosophical reasons.

April 23, 1998 – Chattahoochee National Forest

While Aaron finished washing the dishes and utensils they'd used for last night's supper, Enos made himself busy inspecting the damage, probably from the last storm that came through, to one of the cabin's windows. "Aaron, can you get the toolbox from the locker? I moved it over there, next to the fireplace."

Aaron dried his hands, followed instructions without comment, placed the toolbox on the bench beside Enos, and went back to the mindless activity of re-washing the dishes he'd set in the drying rack only five minutes before. Enos followed his movements with concern, recognizing the symptoms. He'd been there.

Thursday morning had begun as Wednesday had passed, mundane chores, few words, and mindless activity. The loose stone in the fireplace had been mortared back into place. The loose boards on the porch had been replaced, and the roof had been patched. They were both trying to manage to get through the next minute, the next hour, without jumping out of their skins or down each other's throats.

When Aaron dropped the plate he'd dried for the second time, it shattered when it hit the floor. He stood over the pieces, staring down at them until the last chard slid under the bed and came to rest next to the loaded shotgun. With as much vehemence as he had in him, he raged, "Who the f*** uses real plates anymore?!"

Enos chucked the hammer onto the bench and pointed to the door. "That's it. You and me, out on the porch. Now."

Again, Aaron followed instructions but slammed the door shut behind him. It wasn't a first. But he'd been fourteen then, six feet of raging hormones with an attitude to match.

Slowly opening the door, Enos took a deep breath before stepping through, then took a seat beside Aaron on the opening in the porch rails, which served as the lone step. They both stared off into the woods, watching the squirrels jump from limb to limb, before saying anything.

It was Aaron who finally broke the impasse. "You know," he said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice, "when Mom decided you should keep your distance so the two of you could work together again, I got left out of the equation. Neither of you ever asked me what I thought about it."

"I know, son. But I'm askin' now."

"Yeah, well, it sucked! Still sucks." Some of Aaron's anger had spent itself, but the hurt was still under the surface. At nineteen, he was a man in many ways. In other ways, he was still a boy scared out of his wits and lashing out at the nearest, easiest target.

"I guess…guess we thought you were occupied with other things, like college applications and senior year…proms and such."

"Sorry if that doesn't make me feel any less pissed about it." He'd been holding it in for a long time.

"You gotta right to be put out. Can't offer any excuses for myself. But your Mom…you can't go blamin' her for everything. She's your Mom. Be mad at me, not at her."

"I'm not mad at her. Or you. At least not for that. It's everything. You, Mom, this shitty situation my father put us all in."

"Yeah, it is a shitty situation."

Aaron rared back and looked at Enos in disbelieving amazement.

"What?"

"I just never heard you use profanity before."

"Don't mean I can't when the occasion calls for it."

Aaron returned to watching the squirrels. His voice low and shaky, he admitted, "I'm scared I'll never see her again."

"Me too."

Aaron heaved a deep sigh. "I know." He paused and sighed again. "I never gave up hoping…you and Mom…" His voice cracked, and a tear dropped from his right eye. "Did you ever love her?"

It's not the things said that are our most profound regret, but those left unsaid, and Enos considered his next words well.

"Yes. I did. And I still do." He felt Soonie's wedding ring and clenched his left hand. "But there's all kinds of love. The way I love your Mom is kind of the way I love Daisy. The forever and always kind, just not the in-love kind. You understand the difference?"

Aaron nodded his head with a sad acceptance. He had always known. Oh, the power of hope.

Enos put his hand on Aaron's shoulder and gripped it to shake them both back to some semblance of calm.

"So…you haven't told me how your classes are goin'? Calculus, differential equations, operatin' systems…Discrete structures – you said in your last email that's the one you hate."

"Hate's a strong word. I think I said I loathe it – so many proofs! Machine code. Now that's interesting…"


For the next hour, Aaron expounded on C++ Language, 4Tran, and Unix Systems. Although Enos understood little about computer programming's technical side, the mostly one-sided conversation gave them both a chance to cool off.

When Aaron seemed to be winding down, Enos stood and dusted off his backside. "You ready to help me with that window now?"

As they worked, Inez was more on Enos's mind now than she had been before.

April 23, 1998 – Hazzard, the Duke farm

When Caleb got home from school at three, he'd changed into his farm clothes and joined Luke and Bo at the makeshift guard posts they'd established at the east and west ends of the drive. School had been abuzz about all the news vans, not all of it positive. But Caleb stood his ground, like a Duke. Not to be outdone, Emily tried to escape her mother's notice several times to slip out and get a look at what all the excitement was. The last time, Turk grabbed her up before she made it off the front porch and carried her back into the house like a sack of potatoes.

"You sure you don't want me to cuff her, Sophie?"

"If she escapes again, Lieutenant," Sophie said, with her arms folded, "I might have to consider it."

Emily, still draped over a chocolate giant's shoulder, had to look down, wide-eyed, to meet her mother's don't-you-even expression. Turk deposited his load gently onto her feet, and she sped off past Daisy to the parlor, pressing her nose against the windowpane once again.

The newshounds lost the scent after two days of resistance from the locals, but they hadn't given up the chase. And still, there had been no new information or sighting of Joseph Lance or Inez De Pina since Thompson lost their trail in Alabama. God knows where they went after that, none of which Turk wanted to share with Enos, who was scheduled to check in again at five. He could at least report to him that the 'press,' as an ironic a term as could be imagined, had become more low-key by late that afternoon.

He felt Daisy's hand on his arm, a touch that felt cool, but made him warm. Her eyes looked unworldly, but he knew they were not. He knew what he wanted but, for more reasons than he could count, feared needing it.

"Jay, you look tired. Bo and Luke have this under control. Why don't you go lay down in Caleb's room? I'll call you for supper when it's ready."

He nodded and went off to lay down in Caleb's room.


Turk's head hadn't hit the pillow before his mind started working full tilt. Since the phone conversation with Thompson earlier, he couldn't shake the feeling they were all missing something. It didn't make any sense because Daisy was the key. She had to be.

[[Accident – target – phone tap – Missouri – Alabama – N4288Z – brother – 'the way you look tonight' – 88 – 97 – twin – Daisy – 86 – wild card – Hebert – perverted bastards – car bomb – warehouse fire – brown eyes – Suwannee Transport – revenge – primary target…]] 42

Red stickie notes floated around him.

[[Used – Inez – snuff film – Kincaid – Lance – old cases – blind alleys – Inez – modern slavery – murder wall – Elektra – emeralds – Frank Scanlon – Hazzard – Halloween – The Lizard…]]

Snippets of remembered information and niggles of doubt bombarded him.

He heard Aunt Olivia's voice warning him about fishing in another man's pond.

[[L.A. – Kate – Aaron – one stone – stupid – hit and run – The Godfather – Daisy – Hazzard connection – MacGuffin – collateral – no witnesses – Shapiro – yellow string – filing – GBI Files – dots – 'I was always gettin' in the way' – L.A. connection – compromising photographs…]] 43

Why take Inez?

[[Turkey – dark brown like mine – followed – Jane – Crum – Squiggy – $241.40 – green laundry – deputy – reports – Clepas – birth dates – Lance – keys – shipping container – Darcy – 86 – dead ends – dots – Atlanta connection – 88 – used – surveilled – torture – Inez…]]

Lance couldn't have known about the package to the FBI…Why take Inez?

[[Daisy – red herrings – takedown – alibi – no – accident – takeover – Kate – cold case – gossip – like a brother – two by four – paparazzi tipped – lured – family – Black Sea – pond – 88 – trafficking – fishing – 88 – Daze – Jay – jail – basement – drug connection – missing warrant – thorns – meat and potatoes – primary target – videotape – robberies – Aaron – MacGuffin – phone tap – witness – brother – Daisy – fishing – salt…]]


Turk couldn't hear Daisy trying to get his attention because he was chasing salt shakers while Margaritaville blasted in his head. 44

"Jay!" she said, loud enough to be heard in the kitchen.

Turk swung his legs to the floor and put his head in his hands.

"Jay," Daisy said gently, and more quietly, "Were you having a nightmare?"

"No…uh…no. Just going over–" He saw the look of concern in her eyes. "I'm okay, Daisy."

He stood to show her he was fine. She was close enough he could feel her breath on his chest. He had to look down to see her eyes. They were dark brown, like his.

"Supper's on the table."

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute. Just need to wash up."

She turned, but he reached to catch her arm.

When she looked back, he said, "What the hell. You only live once," and pulled her toward him.


He had no idea how long the kiss lasted, but when their lips parted, her arms were wrapped around his neck.

She whispered with that wicked-sweet mouth of hers, "What took you so long?"

"Longer than you think. Had to get a fishing license."

"Huh?"

"Nevermind. We should go in before your cousins start getting curious. I think I could take Bo. Luke, on the other hand..."

"You're such an idiot," she said, pulling him toward the door.

"And I definitely can't take them both on at once."


Suppertime had expanded over the past six months. With new additions of Sophie and the kids, and Rosco's frequent visits around the time Sunday lunch was usually served, Luke had crafted another leaf for the dining room table. While the mashed potatoes, gravy, and family chatter were being passed around, Turk lapsed back into brooding over questions with no answers.

"Turk? Wasn't Enos supposed to call around five?"

He looked over at Daisy and then at his watch. 5:15.

"Yeah, but his call with Soonie ran overtime last night. She's dealing with some family drama of her own. Phone bill's gonna smart."

But 5:15 turned into 5:30, then 5:35 before the phone rang.

Daisy was not the only one at the table that caught the split second of alarm on his face when he saw the Caller ID.

"Soonie?"

"Soonie…you know I don't understand Korean. Start again in English…How many times have you tried?...Have you tried Aaron's...?"

He listened for about fifteen more seconds. Daisy froze.

"Soonie. Breathe. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about. Probably just lost service. Stay by the phone. I'll call you back…Give me fifteen minutes…Honey, give me fifteen minutes. Twenty tops. I promise I'll call you back."

Turk punched in Thompson's mobile number. By the time he'd asked if Thompson had heard from Enos, Daisy was beside him.

He tried to call Enos and Aaron's mobile phones. No answer. Aaron's just went to voicemail.

Accident – target – brother – 86 – 88 – twin – primary – used – Kincaid – old cases – Inez – Lazzaro – Aaron – hit and run – cold revenge – always a thorn – smear campaign – birth dates – Lance – Darcy – 86 – 88 – used – surveilled – Inez – alibi – hit and run – takeover – cold case – family…

Red herrings – phone tap – blind alley – Emory – surveilled – lured – led by the nose…Buddy-roe…brother primary target Inez Aaron leverage hostage ====

=== BAIT


References:

(41) Though you may be thinking of the movie, "The Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind" from 2004 – However, Elektra is making reference to a poem by Alexander Pope, "Eloise to Abelard" written in 1717

(42) "The Way You Look Tonight": Song by Jerome Kern and Dorothy Fields, 1936 and sung by Frank Sinatra released in 1961

(43) Revenge is a dish best served cold ref – attributed to The Godfather's Vito Corleone through his son, Michael but has been paraphrased in movies and literature many times, including The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and Star Trek II, The Wrath of Kahn. The best I can tell from research is that the phrase originated with The French diplomat Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord (1754–1838) has been credited with the saying, "La vengeance est un met que l'on doit manger froid" ["Revenge is a dish that must be eaten cold"], albeit without supporting detail. Wikipedia

(44) Margaritaville, song by Jimmy Buffett, 977 "Some people claim there's a woman to blame but I know it's my own damn fault."