Chapter 38
Shots in the Dark
Anna walked into the ER under her own power, accompanied by Agent Storlie. She was met there by Rachel, who took over so that the FBI agent could go back outside and park his car. Rachel was taken aback when she first saw Anna, who was in far different condition than the last time they had seen one another.
Flashing her badge, the admitting clerk allowed Rachel to accompany Anna straight into triage, where a nurse took and recorded Anna's vital signs. Then, the nurse led the two LEO's back into the treatment areas and to a curtained cubicle, where Anna was instructed to change into a hospital gown and then, hop up on the gurney.
A few minutes later, an attending physician came in and conducted a more in depth exam including a cursory neurological exam for concussion. He found that Anna also presented with tender ribs and various scrapes and contusions.
"I want a CT scan of your head and x-rays of your ribs," Dr. Santori explained to her. Looking over her battered limbs, he added, "We might as well get an x-ray of the arm, too. Just lie back and relax, and we'll get to you just as soon as we can. There is an auto accident being worked up ahead of you. Five passengers in two vehicles."
"No problem," Anna said.
The doctor left the cubicle while the nurse worked to place an IV in Anna's good arm.
"I am so sorry," Rachel finally spoke. "I still don't remember what happened that night . . . only what I've been told"
While the nurse was working, Anna was able to fill in the gaps. "Arndt's men, two of the same ones who were out at Noble's Holler, followed you and me from the restaurant to the courthouse parking garage. And then, they tailed us all the way towards Louisville. When they got their chance, they tried to run us off the road until finally, you were forced to stop. They approached our vehicle and shot a round through the windshield, grazing you. And they kidnapped me. Eventually, I was taken to Arndt's compound."
"My God," Rachel hung onto her every word. Shaking the unexplained guilt she felt, she couldn't help but wonder what made the men decide to take Anna as a hostage and leave her. "Still, I am so sorry."
"Hey, you're not the one who roughed me up," Anna said with a weak smile. "I'm glad to see you're okay, too."
Rachel appreciated the sentiment. "How's Raylan?" she asked next. Having spoken to Tim, earlier, he was still perched up in the tree on the ready, waiting with no update.
Anna shook her head with regret. "He went back in there. Into the compound. With Limehouse. I wish he hadn't." And with that, a shiver went through her at the thought of what those animals could do to her brother. The concern of one was mirrored in the face of the other.
The exam curtain pulled back, and there was Adam with Winona standing behind him. Willa was out in the waiting area with her aunt and her grandmother.
"What's wrong?" Winona asked, leveling her gaze at the two women. They might not be able to tell her anything, but the look in their eyes told her what she needed to know. "Raylan's in trouble, isn't he?"
"Raylan will be fine." Rachel answered quickly. "Now, let's give these two some privacy." She steered Winona out into the hallway, followed by the nurse, leaving Adam and Anna alone.
Without saying a word, Adam stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, mindful of her scrapes, bruises, and IV tubing. For the first time since her ordeal began, she allowed herself to break down, soaking his t-shirt with her tears, as he stroked her hair.
"It's okay," Adam murmured, his own eyes filling. "You're here. You're safe. Everything is going to be alright."
"R-R-Raylan," she sobbed, her lower lip quivering.
Adam pulled away and held her face in his hands, looking deep into her eyes. "You heard Rachel. He's going to be fine."
"You don't know that." She used the sleeve of the gown to wipe her face.
"I do," he said. "Not here." He tapped the side of his head with a finger. "But here." He knocked a fist against his chest. "The same way I knew you were okay." He saw the doubt in her eyes. "Believe me." He put his arms back around her. "Raylan's been in tough places before. From what Winona says, he always comes out alright."
Anna nodded. "I know he's good at what he does."
He tipped her chin up. "So, trust him. And trust my good feeling."
"You aren't just saying that to make me feel better?" She raised an eyebrow.
He shook his head. "Nope. I swear." He leaned in and tenderly kissed her. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
The curtain was pulled open even wider and an orderly entered the cubicle, along with the nurse. "We're going to take you for that CAT scan now," the nurse announced. She turned to Adam. "You can come along if you want."
"Please?" Anna asked, feeling uncharacteristically needy.
Adam smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not planning on letting you out of my sight for a long, long time."
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Jase leaned against the wall outside the room where Raylan was waiting, again trying to listen through the wall. A few minutes later, he returned. "They're still talking," he shared.
"Wonder what those two would have to talk about after all these years?" Raylan shifted his weight in the chair, trying to get comfortable . . . trying to get inside their heads. He had his leg propped up on the arm of the chair. His foot was swollen and pounding in pain. "I mean, the hatred between 'em runs long and deep. I know from experience, sometimes these feuds can go on for so long, the parties involved don't even remember what started the whole thing in the first place." He was reminded about the feud between his family and the Bennett clan.
"Only thing I've ever heard is that Limehouse has a brother named Nelson, and Arndt wants him."
Raylan looked off in thought. "Can't say I ever remember meetin' Ellstin's brother. Even as a young boy, I don't remember him ever bein' around. But I do remember the history of Noble's Holler . . . where Limehouse's people settled after the Civil War."
"I read a little bit about it when Arndt started going off on it," Jase said. "Has Limehouse's family been around since the beginning?"
Raylan nodded. "Yep. When the slaves were freed at the end of the war, Ellstin's ancestors took on the name of the family who owned 'em and took up residence on part of the land they'd worked all their lives. They settled in, nice and peaceful, for a few years. Kept to themselves."
He reached down and loosened one of the Velcro straps on the boot shielding his ankle, but it did nothing to alleviate his discomfort. Jase slid down the wall into a squat, listening for the rest of the story. "After a few years," Raylan continued, "they started roundin' up children and grandchildren who'd been sold off, and other freed slaves heard that Noble's was a safe place, and the community grew." Raylan shrugged. "As to the trouble between Arndt's family and the Limehouses, all I know's that there were some scuffles over voting, back when blacks were first given the right."
"That's ancient history," Jase said.
"Not in the deep South," Raylan schooled the agent. "Even though African Americans were given the right to vote in 1870, states south of the Mason-Dixon Line, like Kentucky, evidently didn't get that memo. When the Votin' Rights Act of 1965 was passed to reinforce the law passed almost a century before, it took another five years or more for it to be enforced in rural places like Harlan. I remember hearin' a black man was shot and killed in 1970 tryin' to vote in Harlan County. Then again, I had a white, racist father and that his version of the truth was often skewed to support his warped way of thinkin'." Raylan took in a deep breath. "This all happened before I was born. Like I said, in the hills, sometimes these feuds go on so long, all's folks know is that they hate anyone with the last name Arndt or Limehouse."
"Or Givens?"
Raylan nodded. "My family had their part in it."
"So, it could've been anything," Jase mused. "Someone disrespected someone's wife or sister, someone tried to stop someone from voting . . ."
"Yep. Could be over land rights, or water rights, or mining. Harlan's full of abandoned mines that never paid out." He shrugged. "Could be as harmless as one side didn't like the way the other side looked at 'em. We could guess all day and not come up with the answer."
"Jase!" Arndt's voice echoed down the hall. "Get in here!"
"Stay put," the FBI agent hissed. Left alone, Raylan instinctively grabbed for the handle of the secreted Glock, and waited.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"How is she?" Gayle asked, looking up from the faded fake leather waiting room couch where Willa sat on her lap, gripping her aunt's car keys and drooling.
"They're taking her down for a CT scan now," Rachel said. "Adam's going with her. I don't think he wants to lose sight of her."
"I can understand that," Gayle said, deftly removing the keys from her niece's hand and replacing them with a less hazardous plastic set from the diaper bag at her feet.
Rachel noticed Agent Storlie was sitting a couple of rows of chairs away, doing something with his cell phone that looked an awful lot like playing a game. She walked over toward him. "Hey. Any news?" she asked, keeping her voice down.
"Nope," he said, shaking his head, concentrating on the phone screen.
"I've got everything secure here," Rachel offered. "Anna's with her fiancée, getting medical treatment. I've got watch over them and Winona and the baby. You can head on out, back to wherever you need to go."
Agent Storlie looked up at her. "Thanks. I think I'll take you up on that." And he stood up, ready to leave.
"Are you going back to the scene?" Rachel asked him.
He casually glanced at his watch. "Naw. I think I'll go back to my office. See what's cooking there. I take my orders from Louisville."
Rachel forced a smile. "Of course you do." She watched this particular member of their local, useless federal agency walk away and then made her way back over to Winona and her sister.
Winona crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window.
Gayle lowered her voice and spoke to Rachel. "No news on Raylan, I take it?"
Pressing her lips together, the Marshal shook her head. "No."
"Would you even tell me if you knew anything?" Winona asked without turning around.
"Not if it compromised the operation," was Rachel's automatic response.
"That's what I thought." She turned and snatched the baby from Gayle's lap. Willa's blue eyes widened in surprise, and her mouth puckered, picking up on her mother's mood.
Winona patted the baby's back, as she headed for the doors. "I need a little space," she declared, arching her brows. "I'm going to take Willa over there, to the gift shop . . . to look around." She turned her head back around and gave Rachel a tight smile, challenging Rachel not to follow her. "Don't worry. I'll be back."
When Winona left, Gayle heaved a sigh and pushed up off the couch, watching her sister through the window. "I hope she can hold it together."
"Me, too," Rachel echoed. "For Raylan's sake." She honestly didn't know what might happen to her fellow marshal if this all fell apart, again. He'd always loved Winona, but now he was head over heels for that baby girl, too.
Self-conscious of her sister's behavior, Gayle tried to offer an explanation. "It hasn't gotten any easier for her. She's always worried about Raylan's safety and, if anything, it's gotten worse since he was shot . . . and since baby Willa came along."
Rachel nodded. "I know it's tough. Believe me, I hear it often enough from my mother. All of us in law enforcement have loved ones who worry about us, every day."
What Rachel said was true, and Gayle flashed to the experience of seeing Adam worry about Anna's well-being. "I just want to make sure you don't take her personally," Gayle continued. "She doesn't mean it."
"I don't," Rachel countered. "And Winona shouldn't take anything personally from me, either. I have my orders." She then, stood and moved to position herself where she could see Winona and the baby, inside the gift shop, playing with the stuffed animals.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Jase entered the room to find Limehouse seated on the floor, with Arndt towering above him, practically boring a hole into the top of the man's skull with his stare.
"Evidently, Ellstin here doesn't understand that I need to find Nelson," Arndt explained upon sensing that Jase had entered the room. Again to Limehouse, he repeated, "If your brother is dead, then where is he buried?!" The words were hatefully spat.
"I told ya' for 'da last time," Limehouse defiantly responded. "I doesn't know if my brother is alive or dead. I doesn't know!"
With that, Arndt gave Ellstin a swift kick in the leg with the tip of his steel-toed boot. Ellstin held onto his jarred arm in the sling and winced, yet remained stoic.
Looking up at Jase, Arndt ordered, "Bring that marshal back in here."
Jase nodded and left the room, returning minutes later dragging Raylan by the arm.
"Sit him down . . . over there," Arndt pointed to a chair near Limehouse.
Frank walked up to Jase and Raylan, salivating at the chance to take some control back from Arndt's preferred man. Before Jase could respond, Frank shoved Raylan down into the chair, hard. The Glock dug into the lawman's back.
Taken aback, Raylan's eyes widened when Frank reached down and grabbed his walking cast into his hands, straightening Raylan's injured leg out. "Ask him, again," the sadistic man suggested to Arndt, while sneering down at Raylan.
Arndt leaned further down, getting into Ellstin's face. "Where . . . is . . . Nelson!?"
Ellstin again defiantly replied, "I . . . doesn't . . . know!"
And with that, Frank gave Raylan's injured foot a leveraged twist.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Raylan howled. "Dammit! Eyes and ears! Eyes and ears!"
With that, Arndt hit the light switch, and the room went dim, taking care of the eyes.
"Leon!" Ellstin shouted. "I doesn't give no shit about 'da marshal, here. And no matter what ya' does ta him or ta me? I still doesn't know!"
"He's right about not givin' a shit about me," Raylan confirmed under his breath. He was answered by a punch in the face from Frank, hard enough to knock him out of his chair and onto his backside on the floor, next to Limehouse.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Raylan cursed in pain, as he landed on the floor with a thud. Holding his hands out, defensively, he said, "Whoa. Frank, we're not gettin' anywhere here."
Hot-headed and more out-of-control than ever, all Frank could see in front of him was red. He drew his leg back and kicked Raylan in the cast using full force."
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Raylan called out in pain, his face beading with perspiration. "I swear, Arndt!" Instinctively, he grabbed his leg and pulled it up in a self-protective posture before another one of Frank's kicks could connect with his screaming limb. Up to the sky, he shouted, "I'm calling them to come in and send us all to Kingdom Come . . . if you don't pull this son-of-a-bitch off-a-me!" Breathing hard, Raylan then let out a convincing and forceful, "NOW!"
"FRANK!" Arndt yelled. "That's enough!"
Jase reached over and pulled the crazy man by the shoulders, off of Raylan.
With Arndt distracted by Jase, Raylan reached down into his boot, pulled out the knife, and slid it over to Ellstin, who quickly grabbed it and hid it underneath him.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Back in the van, Karen Goodall pulled the headphones from her ears. "We've gotta get in there," she said. Her eyes met the Chief Deputy's. They were both concerned for their Marshal, and for Ellstin Limehouse who had for whatever reason, aided them in this operation.
The lack of light in the room left them only with the audio. Prior to Arndt shutting off the lights, they were able to make a visual assessment of the situation. They had lost a critical advantage.
"Just wait," Weston said. "Jase – his real name is Mike Canon, by the way and he's a former Navy Seal – will blow his cover before he'll let anything happen to either of them."
"I don't like this," Karen said. "I don't like this one bit." What she didn't like one bit was her personal feelings getting in the way, which was exactly what was happening. If it had been any other marshal in there, she would be concerned, but getting Arndt would be top priority. But, despite his rejection, she still had a soft spot for Raylan, and she couldn't help but think about that baby girl.
Lost in thought, she felt a hand on her shoulder and turned her head to see Art.
"Listen," he said, glancing sideways to make sure Weston wasn't listening in the close quarters of the van. "I know you and Raylan are – old friends –," he raised an eyebrow. "I don't like hearin' that shit any more than you do. But he knows what he's doin' in there. Even injured, he's a force to reckon with. Let's listen to Weston and give it a little longer."
Bolstered by Art's no-holds-barred counsel, Karen nodded mutely and slipped the headphones back on.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
Gayle's phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from the nurse's station. "Daddy's out of surgery," she read. "He's stable. They're taking him up to the cardiac floor where he'll be in critical care," she continued to read from her screen. "We should head on up," she told her mother.
"You two go on ahead," Rachel suggested. "I'll go and get Winona and Willa."
"Willa's not allowed in critical care," Margery reminded them. "Our little darlin' may be sweet to us, but she's a germ factory to the critically ill and medically fragile."
"She's allowed to go as far as the waiting room on the farthest end of the cardiac floor," Rachel said, having done her homework in checking out the hospital's logistics. "I can wait there with Willa so that Winona can go and check-in on her father."
"Thank you, Rachel," Margery smiled and followed her oldest to the elevators.
Rachel quickly texted Adam with the update on Davis and to let him know where he could find them. She then walked down the hall and across to the gift shop.
Winona's heart skipped a beat when she saw Rachel enter the store. "Raylan?" she guessed . . . she hoped for news.
"No word yet," Rachel shook her head. "Your father's out of surgery. He's stable and up on the cardiac floor in critical care which is standard procedure for this kind of surgery. Your mom and your sister just left to head over."
Winona nodded and placed a baby book of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, a package of nuts, a bottled water, and package of mints near the cash register with a twenty-dollar-bill. She shoved the dollar and change that was returned by the clerk into her purse, grabbed the bag, and followed Rachel out of the shop.
During the long trek to the cardiac floor, the two women, deep in their own thoughts, had nothing to say to one another.
-o-o-o-O-o-o-o-
"10-23," Art spoke clearly into the walkie-talkie, relaying the code for Tim to stand by.
Things were quickly escalating inside the compound. They wouldn't be able to wait much longer.
"10-4," Tim acknowledged and positioned his rifle up on his shoulder and his eye on the scope.
The front entrance was still shut tight. There were slats for windows on the same side of the building as the door, but from the angle where the sunlight was hitting the building, he couldn't make out anything.
Inside the van with her arms crossed and breath held, Karen Goodall listened carefully to what sounded like a human howl followed by a gunshot and then, two more gunshots. Afterwards, there was silence. In real time, she relayed what she'd heard. The deathly silence was echoed inside the van, as well. She forced herself to continue the wait and carefully listen but could hear nothing more.
"There are four of them and three of ours," Goodall recapped, the one to break the silence. She locked eyes with Art. "Raylan could easily handle two," she said, as if she was trying to convince herself.
"I've seen him handle three," Art nodded with confidence.
Biting her bottom lip, Karen waited along with Weston for their next step.
Tim remained positioned in the tree and quickly flipped around his baseball cap so that the brim blocked out the sun that was causing his scope to glare. He took in steady, even breaths with his finger wrapped tautly around the trigger. Adrenaline pumping, the more seconds that passed, the louder he could hear his own heart thumping in his chest. Another minute or so of silence passed, and a big lump formed in his rapidly drying throat.
Then, Tim's muscles tensed when he saw there was movement in the front of the compound.
(To be continued . . . )