Steve put two cardboard cups of coffee on the small fibreglass table. Mike glanced up from his study of the Kentucky map and nodded his thanks. Steve sat and looked at his watch. "We've got twenty minutes till we have to be at the gate."
Mike sighed. "We would've been there by now if we didn't have to fly through here first," he grumbled.
Steve nodded in agreement, swallowing a smile. He knew Mike was right, a direct flight from San Francisco to Louisville would have been more convenient and efficient; the stopover in L.A. not only meant a much longer journey, it also meant another take-off and landing, two things that made the older man uncharacteristically nervous.
After taking a sip of his coffee, Mike looked at his companion over his black glasses.
"If we get an early start tomorrow morning, we should make pretty good time towards Kearney on the Interstate. From the looks of this, it's about a hundred or so miles to Kearney once we get off the 75 so that's going to slow us up, I bet. Especially if it's raining."
Steve grinned and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Bring it on," he chuckled.
Smiling widely as he took off his glasses and put them in his inside jacket pocket, Mike shook his head, "Don't worry, Mario, I'm letting you do all of the driving."
# # # # #
Steve woke with a start when the pillow hit his head. He batted it away and sat up quickly, disoriented. His eyes finally settled on the grinning apparition of his partner silhouetted in the light from the motel bathroom, buttoning his dress shirt.
"Get up, sleepyhead, it's time to hit the road."
Glancing once more around the dark room, and discerning no trace of sunlight peeping around the heavy curtains, Steve shook his head and cleared his throat. "What time is it?" he mumbled as he squinted towards the clock/radio on the small table pinned between the twin beds. 5:58 a.m. "Jeez, Mike, the sun isn't even up yet."
Ignoring the whine, Mike finished buttoning his shirt and started tucking it into his pants. "Yeah, well, the sun doesn't have to drive half-way across the state today. Rise and shine." Laughing, he stepped deeper into the bathroom and closed the door.
Shaking his head to wake himself up, Steve crawled to the end of the bed and, rubbing a hand over his face, lowered his feet to the floor and yawned. It was going to be a long day.
# # # # #
"Wow, this is pretty country," Mike said again as the dark green '74 Ford Galaxie came over a crest in the highway, revealing another stunning mountain vista of rolling hills and lush forest. Even with the heavy cloud cover, it was a breathtaking sight.
Fiddling with the knob on the radio, trying to find a station through the static, Steve nodded once more. "Sure is." He had gotten over his initial irritation at Mike's selection of rental car. There had been two sweet Mustangs on the lot and available but Mike had asked for the Galaxie instead, over Steve's requesting, pleading, finagling and finally grousing.
The Galaxie made more sense of course, seeing as their goal was to transport a prisoner and they needed the room as opposed to the flash. Still, the trip would have been that much more fun in a cherry red sports car.
The map spread out on the seat between them, Mike took another glance at it. "So we're getting off at junction 15, Williamsburg – then we head sorta northeast from there. Do you want to grab something to eat before then?"
"Might as well. That way once we're off the Interstate, we can just plow on."
"Makes sense to me. Hunh, I wonder what the local specialties are around here?"
# # # # #
Steve speared a ball of deep-fried dough and brought it up to eye level. "I always thought a hushpuppy was a shoe," he said with a small chuckle.
"Well, as long as it doesn't taste like a shoe," Mike said with a quiet laugh as he speared one himself and popped it into his mouth. The younger man watched as he chewed then swallowed. "Actually, that's pretty good." He impaled another one. "But I think there's enough deep-fried stuff on this plate to last me a month. Better not tell Jeannie what we ate, she'll have me on salads for the next year!"
Steve put the hushpuppy in his mouth and chewed, his eyebrows rising in surprise. "Not bad at all," he said with smile after he'd swallowed.
"The catfish is really good too," Mike added after sampling the fillet on his plate, "I just wish they didn't deep fry everything. This would have been great sautéed with a little lemon and dill, but hey, when in Rome…"
"When did you become such a gourmand?"
Mike chuckled as he cut another piece of catfish with his fork. "I decided to broaden my interests lately, and Jeannie bought me this really nice cookbook for my birthday so I've started to do a little experimenting. I'm not quite up to asking you to be a guinea pig yet but that day is coming, my boy, be forewarned."
Laughing, Steve stabbed another hushpuppy. "I'm game, just ask me." He glanced around the half-filled restaurant, with its dark-hued hominess. "We're gonna have to at least try some real Kentucky bourbon before we head home, you know."
"Yeah, maybe tomorrow night after we get everything squared away and we're back in Louisville with Rutter. And it'll be on me. What do you say?"
Steve looked up and grinned. "You got it." He picked up his coffee cup. "Here's to a quick and safe trip."
Smiling, Mike picked up his coffee and they clinked cups. "Here here."
# # # # #
The county roads proved a little harder to negotiate than the Interstate, and the rain didn't help, even though it was lighter than expected. It was well after dark before the Galaxie pulled into Keaney and it took another 20 minutes for them to find the Buttercup Motel and Restaurant, where they had reservations for the night.
Grateful that the rain had finally stopped, they exited the car yawning and stretching. Mike went into the office to register and get the key while Steve took a short walk around the parking lot to work out the kinks.
Mike exited through the screen door with a smile, holding up two sets of keys. "We have separate rooms."
"Excellent," the younger man breathed, heading back to the car. That meant he wouldn't be woken with a pillow to the head in the morning; it'd be a phone call or a pounding on the door, but still…
"Rooms 12 and 14, down that way," Mike pointed to his right. He started to walk in that direction as Steve got back in the car and drove it the short distance. Within ten minutes, they were both fast asleep.
# # # # #
Steve woke slowly, pushing the pillow off his forehead and squinting in the bright morning sunshine illuminating the room through the paperthin curtains. With a groan and a frown, he sat up and glanced at his watch. 8:21. Surprised that it was so late, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up, reaching for his pants on the small armchair against the wall.
After a quick trip to the bathroom, he threw his shirt, socks and shoes on, took the chain off the door and stepped out into the blinding sunshine and crisp mountain air. The door to the next room was open and he stepped into the frame.
Mike, fully dressed and sitting at the small table reading a newspaper, glanced up nonchalantly. "I was wondering when you were going to get up. We have to be at the police station at 9, you know. You're cutting it a little fine, aren't you?"
Shaking his head to wake himself up some more and running a hand through his unkempt hair, Steve cleared his throat. "Um, I kinda thought you'd wake me."
"Me? Why, am I your nanny?" Mike chuckled. "You're a big boy, you can get up by yourself."
With a smirk, Steve rubbed his hand over his eyes. "What time did you get up?"
Mike turned a page of the paper. "Oh, I've been up for ages. Went for a walk, had breakfast in the diner over there," he nodded to his right and Steve automatically looked in that direction, noticing a small restaurant attached to the motel, "and bought a paper." He hefted the newspaper in his hands. "I also found out it's about a five minute drive to the police station, so if you hustle, you can grab a quick breakfast before we have to leave."
After a moment of stunned silence, Steve turned and headed back to his room.
"Try the country ham and the cornbread, it's really good. And the coffee's pretty decent too," Mike called after him.
# # # # #
"Welcome to Kearney, Lieutenant, Inspector," Sheriff Eli Noble stepped forward as Mike and Steve got out of the Galaxie in front of the small red brick police station. He shook hands with both big city detectives, a wide grin on his pleasant, florid face.
Smiling broadly, Mike nodded. "It's a real pleasure to be here, Sheriff, you have a beautiful state."
"Eli, please, Lieutenant," the paunchy Kentuckian chuckled cordially. "We're all on a first name basis here." He nodded over his shoulder at his two deputies.
"All right then, Eli," Mike laughed, "I'm Mike. This is my partner, Steve Keller," he introduced the younger man to the others.
"Steve," the junior detective said warmly as he shook hands all around.
"Lonny Carruthers," a tall, lanky deputy with a military crewcut said amiably. "Lonny."
"Lonny, good to meet you," Mike said warmly, then turned to the other officer. "Then you must be Alfie."
"Yes, sir," the slight blond young man said with delighted wonder, "Deputy Alfie Carter, sir. Pleased to meet you."
"Mike, don't forget," the senior detective said, waving a friendly admonishing finger, "I don't answer so well to 'sir'."
"Yes, sir," Carter said seriously then grinned.
Noble gestured towards the building. "Shall we, gentlemen?"
# # # # #
Cups of fresh coffee in hand, Noble leaned over his desk towards his guests. "So, I'll send Lonny and Alfie off right now to the camp and pick Rutter up. They should be back by mid-afternoon at the latest."
"So he's not here?" Steve asked, exchanging a perplexed glance with his partner.
"Ah, no," Noble said vaguely, leaning back and looking down at his desk. "We really don't have the facilities here to keep someone like Rutter safe and we thought it prudent to put him somewhere with a bit more… security until you guys could get him out of the county."
"And why is that?" Mike asked slowly, confused and suddenly a little more than mildly concerned.
Noble looked at his deputies. "Fellas, you want to hit the road?"
"Yes, sir," Carruthers said, putting on his campaign hat and nodding at Carter. With another quick nod towards the San Francisco detectives, they wheeled away and left the office.
Noble took a deep breath. "The Rutter family is pretty notorious in these parts for their – how shall I put it? - run-ins with the law. They have a family history of 'shining – ah, moonshining – and running drugs in this part of the county. And legend has it both the father and the grandfather have more than one notch on their belts for 'eliminating the competition', so to speak.
"They live over in one of the hollers west of here and there's an unwritten code in the hills here that no-one – and I mean no-one – goes in there, including us. They are a law unto themselves."
Mike and Steve exchanged uneasy glances.
"So, you think that they'd try to break Donald Rutter out of custody?" Mike asked.
"Donald Lee," Noble corrected gently with a chuckle. "You've got to use the entire name around here."
Mike made a face. "Sorry," he said with a short laugh that Steve shared, "Donald Lee."
Noble shook his head in resignation. "Well, I wouldn't put anything past Robert E. Lee Rutter."
Steve's eyebrows shot up. "That's his father's name?"
Chuckling once more, Noble nodded. "Swear to God. Familial allegiances die hard around here."
"I take it you're not a local," Mike ventured carefully with a smile.
Noble snorted. "No, you're right. I'm from over in the western part of the state. Didn't have much experience with the hill people and their 'shine and their feuds before I was transferred here. I must say, it's been an eye-opener."
"I bet," Steve said quietly.
"Look, ah," Noble continued, "it'll be a few hours till Carruthers and Carter get back here with Rutter. Why don't I fill you guys in on some of the, ah, shall I say 'challenges' that we face here?"
Nodding, Mike leaned forward. "I'd like that, Eli."