Chapter 31

Spare Tires

After what Anna estimated to be about an hour, the vehicle rolled to a stop. Two car doors slammed and footsteps crunched on gravel, but no one popped the trunk. Anna wondered if they were just walking away, leaving her to die. A flash of panic hit her, and she fought back tears. No. No. She would not go out without a fight. Rolling onto her back she brought her knees in tight to her chest, then kicked out as hard as she could against the lid of the trunk. Thunk. Again, harder. Thunk. As satisfying as it was to do something, anything, it was obvious that it wasn't working. Better to conserve her energy and use her brain instead.

With her hands still cuffed in front of her, she began feeling around in the car. Locating the hold for the spare tire, she managed to jimmy the jack loose. As she lay there, catching her breath from the effort, she heard the footsteps returning. Clutching the jack in both hands she took several deep breaths, waiting for the click of the trunk lid opening.

When it opened, she swung toward the center without looking. There was a satisfying crunch and a yelp of pain and surprise. She focused, swinging again as Bandana Man brought his arm up to slam the lid. This time there was a crack and a louder cry. She was sure she'd broken his arm. Good. Another swing, and he went down.

"Help!" He hollered. "Caaaleb! Help!"

"Shut up," Anna said, swinging the jack at his head. She missed, and he reached out with his good hand, grabbing the jack and pulling her half out of the trunk. Her head bumped his injured arm, and he gasped in pain. Anna wriggled her legs out of the trunk and scrambled to her feet. It was hard to run with her hands cuffed in front of her, but she stumbled into the underbrush beside the gravel drive, searching madly for a place to hide.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Leitchfield, Kentucky is located between the Twin Lakes, Nolin Lake to the north and Rough River Lake to the south. A small city with a population of less than 6,000, it is the county seat of Grayson County and has its own Police Department.

It was sun up by the time Tim and Raylan made the short trip from Shepherdsville to Leitchfield in record time. Tim took Exit 107 off the Kentucky-259 and pulled into the perimeter of a nearly deserted Walmart parking lot while Raylan studied a map.

"I've been here . . . before," Tim shared. "I dated this gal from Elizabethtown for a while. Her parents live here, near the town center. Anyway, they have this Ice Cream Festival here in Shepherdsville, every July."

"Ice cream?" Raylan asked, still studying the map illuminated by his penlight.

Tim grinned. "I knew that'd get your attention."

Raylan asked, "Do they really have an annual ice cream festival, or are ya' pullin' my leg?"

"They really do have an annual Ice Cream Festival. For the entire weekend," Tim assured him.

"Hmmm. Good ta' know." Raylan continued to study the map.

"What I'm thinking . . . is that we stick out here like a sore thumb," Tim continued. "This entire town is only about 8 miles long by 8 miles wide. The Chief of Police is not going to like us coming into his jurisdiction unless we bring him into the investigation."

"Arndt's compound is here," Raylan pointed to the map with his index finger. "Up Lilac Road to King Road, about 10 miles from here."

"Did you hear anything I just said?" Tim deadpanned.

"I heard ya'," Raylan answered. "And I think you're right." Finally looking up from the map, he asked, "Any ideas about where we can get us a pickup truck so that we can blend in?"

Tim raised an eyebrow. "We need to dump the Lincoln . . . and the Stetson needs to go."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

The doctor motioned to several chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat," he said. He slipped a pair of tortoise-shell glasses from his pocket and opened the file in front of him.

Margery laid a hand on Davis' arm. "Let's sit."

"Okay," he sat, a little winded from walking down the long hallway from radiology to the doctor's office. He'd refused the offers of a wheelchair.

Margery sat, too, and Gayle took the other chair beside him. At the last minute, seeing that her mother wasn't keen on going alone, she'd offered to come along. That left Winona and Adam at home with the three kids. At least chasing after the boys might keep Adam from obsessing over the search for Anna.

"Alright," Dr. Belpedio said. "Mr. Reeve, from these test results, you're a good candidate for our surgery."

"That's wonderful!" Margery said. Davis reached for his ex-wife's hand and squeezed.

The doctor went on, explaining the procedure, the risks, and the recovery time. Gayle heard it all but her eyes were focused on her parents. When was the last time she'd seen them show any kind of affection to one another? Long before her mother announced she was leaving. Now, they were smiling at each other and holding hands.

She pulled out her cell phone and texted Winona the news.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

"There's an Enterprise and a Hertz about a mile from here," Raylan said, still looking at his map.

They had decided to regroup and drive back to nearby Elizabethtown, check into a motel for a shower, and rent a truck.

Tim went inside to the front desk of the Super 8 Motel and checked them in. One room with two beds for one night, with a late-check out the next morning. Just in case they could get some shut eye.

Meanwhile, Raylan walked next door to Denny's and ordered two All American Grand Slam Breakfasts and asked the waitress to keep fresh coffee coming. By the time Tim finally joined him, Raylan was already on his second cup. He looked like hell.

"When's the last time you had a good night's sleep?" Tim asked, sliding into the booth.

Raylan looked up in thought, yet did not answer.

"That's what I thought," Tim surmised. "I say we eat, get the truck, shower, and stake out Arndt's compound until tonight. We'll have to update Karen, too." Raylan was quiet, out of character for himself. Tim guessed he was worried about Anna . . . his sister. He added, "I think it's a good sign they moved her. Kinda says they think they need her for something."

Raylan raised an eyebrow. "So now, all we gotta do is figure out what that reason might be."

"Exactly." Tim's tone remained hopeful. "How about I take first shift, and you can get some shut eye?"

"You'd get no argument from me." Raylan continued to sip his coffee.

The waitress arrived with two large platters and slid them in front of each hungry man. She refilled their coffee mugs and was gone in a flash.

"Why'd you order cheese in my eggs?" Tim complained.

Raylan looked up, annoyed. "What? You don't like cheese?"

"Not in my eggs!" Tim stated what he thought was obvious.

"Well. Give 'em to me. No sense in lettin' 'em go to waste."

"Alright. Then, pass over your bacon and sausage," Tim said, thinking that was a fair trade.

Raylan screwed up his face. "Really?"

After the reluctant exchange of food, the two men shoveled their Slams into their mouths, both very aware of the time. When the waitress returned with the check, Tim pulled out his credit card and said, "Hey, before you total me out, I want to order some food . . . To Go."

He reached over and grabbed a menu from the back of the booth. The waitress pulled out her pad.

"I'd like a couple of your Bacon Lovers BLT's, a loaded Baked Potato Soup, and a couple of pieces of your apple pie." Then, he looked over at Raylan and asked, "What are you going to have?"

"Tsk." Raylan shook his head, astounded at how much food this guy could put away. Short on time, Raylan answered with a quick, "I'll have the same. And how about a couple of large coffees. Cream and sugar?"

While Tim took care of paying for and picking up their food, Raylan hit the men's room and made a couple of calls about the car rental.

"Enterprise has a Dodge Ram 1500 Quad with Kentucky plates," Raylan reported, grabbing two of the many bags out of Tim's full arms, as they walked out to the parking lot and to the Lincoln.

"Sweet," Tim commented.

They drove over to rent the truck, a black one. Then, Tim drove the truck and followed Raylan back over to the motel. They grabbed their Go Bags out of the Lincoln and went inside their room.

"You go first," Raylan said, referring to the shower and flopping down onto the closest bed.

Tim picked up his Go Bag and headed for the bathroom. "Fine. But I'd better not have any problem waking you up."

Raylan covered his face with his hat and was out before Tim turned on the water.

About 15 minutes later, the bathroom door opened with a cloud of steam following Tim out of the room, shaved and dressed.

"Raylan!" Tim kicked his follow marshal's boot that was hanging over the edge of the bed. "It's your turn to get in the shower."

"Huh?" Raylan opened one eye.

Tim followed the kick to the boot with another one, only harder. "Get up!"

"Alright, alright. I'm up." Raylan gave in, rolled out of the bed, and stumbled to the bathroom.

Tim tossed Raylan's Go Bag into the small bathroom after him and closed the door. He then stood outside the door and listened until he heard the shower water was on.

Sometime later, Raylan emerged, also shaved and clean. He traded his attention-getting Stetson for a John Deere baseball cap and his tailored shirt and skinny tie for a simple, grey t-shirt. Tim already looked like his usual, non-descript self.

"Ya' coulda left me some hot water," Raylan complained.

"The cold water woke you up?" Tim grinned.

"I'll say," Raylan answered, checking his weapon, grabbing his Go Bag and the Stetson. "Shall we go?"

On the way out the door, Raylan glanced at the clock, feeling pressed for time. It was already 10:40 a.m.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Anna crouched as low as she could without losing her balance, moving quickly in a zig-zagging path away from the car. Bandana Man was still yelling, but she didn't dare risk a look back to see if anyone was coming to his aid. Sooner or later someone would, and she needed to be as far away as possible, or well hidden. As she moved, she looked around for a likely hiding place. She wished she'd thought to check the asshole's pocket for her phone.

Something brushed her ankle in the tall grass, and she looked down to see a yellow and brown snake. Barely suppressing a scream, she stepped away and the snake slithered off in the other direction. She could hear shouting now. Soon, they'd be searching for her in earnest. She needed to find a place to hide and quickly. Picking up her pace, she risked her full height to see what was ahead. About fifty yards in front of her was a barbed wire fence, topped with razor wire and probably electrified. If she could hide out until dark, maybe she could find a rock and dig her way under. It was a long shot, but at this point she'd take it.

The voices were closer and she looked around, desperate for someplace to hide. A cluster of rocks caught her eye and lowering herself to a crawl she made her way to them. The dark opening between was just wide enough for her to squeeze through. Without thinking, she wriggled into the cave, feet first, gripping the edge with both hands and feeling for a foothold in the damp wall.

Feet tromped by, and she held her breath.

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

Driving through the sub-divisions of Leitchfield, Tim soon found Lilac Road and then, drove out more ten miles to King Road.

"You know, this town is 'lily white,'" Tim commented, keeping a careful eye on the odometer. "And mostly made up of white males in their 30's and 40's. Good a place as any to house a Nazi, skinhead organization."

Suddenly, there it was. Arndt's compound sitting on forty acres. Raylan pulled his binoculars out of his bag. As tired as he was, he couldn't sleep. His adrenaline was pumping.

"See anything?" Tim asked, slowing the truck to stop and only seeing barbed wire fencing with signs that read 'Private Property – No Trespassing' and 'Beware of Dogs,' as far as his eye could see.

"Nope," Raylan answered. "Maybe take a drive around the perimeter?"

A dirt road took them around to the back, the north side of the property. There was more uncleared brush behind more barbed wire fencing and more warning signs, exactly like the other side. On the other side of the road, there was another farm growing corn and soybeans.

Tim made a right turn onto another dirt road that followed along the eastern perimeter of the compound. They saw more of the same, with another corn and soybean farm on the other side of the road. The dirt road ended on a paved road where they made another right. It took them to the south side of the parcel, to the front entrance of the compound. Tim slowed the truck.

Raylan could see a main structure that looked more like a military building than a home. A couple of metal pre-fab barns were spaced out behind. There were dogs running around. Pit bulls. And he counted six trucks and a few late model cars parked sporadically near the front entrance.

"So," Tim said. "What do we do now?"

Raylan let out a long sigh. "My least favorite thing. Call Karen for further instructions." Unable to put it off any longer, he pulled out his phone and called Karen. The signal was weak.

"Raylan," the Assistant Director answered on the third ring, her voice cracking.

"You're gonna have to speak up," he said. "I can barely hear ya'. Not a great cell signal here."

"I'm on my way into Louisville," she said. "I can put off calling the Louisville office until my plane lands in about an hour or so."

"Look. Gutterson and I rented a pick-up and are staked out on the perimeter of Arndt's compound," he explained. "We haven't seen any movement yet, but I just know she's here. She's got to be."

"I can get you 'Eyes and Ears,'" she offered. "You can't tell me they wouldn't help."

"No," he swallowed. "They'd be a great help." After a beat he said, "Call me when you get in. There's a town not too far from here where we rented the truck. That may be where we want to make our base. The small town of Leitchfield is not gonna cotton to Federals movin' in on their jurisdiction. Swarmin' this town is not a good idea. And the last thing we want is a surveillance van parked here on the outskirts of nowhere. It's not gonna fly."

"Not to mention some of the local PD could be part of Arndt's crew," she offered. "I've seen it before."

"Yeah. Me, too," he agreed, his thoughts immediately went to Harlan.

"I'll call you when I land, okay?" she asked. "Lay low."

"That's the plan," he agreed, disconnecting the call. Shoving it in his pocket, he turned to Tim. "Now, we get to do my second least favorite thing."

"What's that?" Tim asked.

Peering into the binoculars and checking out the compound, he answered, "Wait."

-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-

As hard as Raylan tried to stay awake, his eyelids would not stay open any longer. He dozed in the passenger seat while Tim kept watch.

Before he closed his eyes, Karen Goodall called Raylan as promised when her flight landed. She decided to take Raylan's advice to set up a command in Elizabethtown, at the same motel where he and Tim got a room. Now, Tim and Raylan were to wait and watch until she did so and contacted them, again.

Tim watched as a grey, late model Dodge Charger pulled out of the compound, followed by a blue Chevy Camaro. Both cars headed for the entrance road, heading towards Leitchfield. He watched in the binoculars for any further activity when a few minutes later, two men got into one of the pickup trucks and headed out as well, but rather that head for the road into town, the truck turned right. The hair on the back of Tim's neck stood up. He'd driven the perimeter of the compound, and there was nothing that way.

Raylan was out, so Tim followed his instincts and made a decision. He got out of the car and walked around to the back of the truck. He looked back in the bed and then, underneath the bed. There. He found what he was looking for. Then, he removed his service weapon from its holster and fired a shot into the back left tire.

"What the fuck!" Raylan jumped up out of a dead sleep cursing, and glared back at Tim, who was pulling the jack and tool kit out of the truck. He exited on his side.

"We've been spotted," Tim explained, as Raylan walked around. "A pickup will be comin' up behind us any minute now. What you can do is to help me get this car jacked up before they get here."

Raylan took a deep breath and did what Tim said. By the time the other truck drove around and pulled up behind them, Tim had just pulled off the damaged tire.

Two stocky men, somewhere in their late thirties, covered in tattoos and wearing dark glasses exited the Ford truck. "We heard a gunshot," the taller of the two said to them, approaching.

"Yeah, ya' did," Raylan confirmed. "It came from over there." He pointed in the general direction of the compound. Then, he went back to pulling the spare out from underneath the truck bed and rolled it over to Tim.

"We don't get many visitors here," the man continued. He stopped next to Tim who was crouched down on his knees, positioning the spare onto the wheel, and he brandished his weapon.

"We're just changin' a tire. We'll be movin' along here, in just a minute," Raylan said in an even tone, catching the threat.

"Like I said. We don't get many visitors," the man continued, as the other walked up behind him to back him up. "What are you two doin' out here on private property?"

Raylan's mind raced to come up with something plausible.

But it was Tim who finally spoke, imitating Raylan's drawl, as he continued to work. "I gotta girlfriend. Her folks live up in Leitchfield. We're supposed ta' be there now for dinner, so I can meet 'em. Son-of-a-bitch, if I didn't go too far on Lilac and took a wrong turn. And now, this." He was referring to the tire. "She ain't gonna be none too happy with me for bein' late."

"That's what you get for drivin' stoned," Raylan added, shaking his head. He stowed away the tire under the truck bed, hiding the bullet hole underneath. "You're in no condition to meet the folks."

"Weed happens," the second man grinned an approving grin.

Tim spun the nut on tight with the tire iron nice and tight and then, another, and another. "There. Done." He collected the tools and let down the car, off the jack.

"You two aren't from around here," the first man said, noting the rental car sticker.

"No. I'm from Louisville," Tim intentionally slowed his speech as if he was stoned. "I met Sara at the Ice Cream Festival last summer. And this here is my cousin. He came with me for moral support. And my truck's in the shop. Besides, this one is nicer to look at. Like I said, this weekend is important to my girl." He stood up and wiped the dirt off his hands and onto a rag from the tool bag.

"Alright," the man said. "You two need to get on your way," he said. "We'll wait right here to make sure that you do."

"No problem," Raylan said. "We're sorry if we caused any trouble."

The man shifted his weight onto his other foot. "No trouble. Just get goin'. And don't come back."

"Yes, sir," Tim said and climbed into the driver's seat while Raylan got into the cab on the other side.

As the two drove off, Raylan watched the men from his side view mirror. "Shit," he said. "That was too close."

Tim kept on driving with his eyes fixed straight ahead on the road. "So much for blending in."

(To be continued . . .)