Chapter 6
Late Sunday/Early Monday
AJ remembered every skill he learned as a SEAL more than thirty years ago. If abandoned for any reason, he could easily retrace their route. He went over each fallen tree, each rock, and each sinkhole to be avoided in his head. He catalogued every smell, from the pine tar to the sweat of their bodies. He heard every skitter, every buzz, and every snuffle of the night creatures near and far from the tent he was sharing with Horace Evans.
AJ had known many a Horace Evans in Viet Nam. Simple, small town men who went to war because their daddies had gone to war and it was a way to see something beside the next county, only to be shocked senseless by the carnage and reality of death in the jungle. Most, the ones who lived, had gratefully returned to those same small towns, vowing to never leave home again. From what he could tell, Horace Evans was happy in his life.
The man certainly knew his way around the woods. AJ judged that Horace was near his age, if not older, but he was hiking in these hills and valleys like he was still twenty. AJ, who had always prided himself on staying in shape, felt every stretched muscle in his thighs and calves. Muscles more used to the stress of running five miles three times a week on fairly even surfaces. Even his ankles hurt.
The small fire outside the tent cast a little heat but no appreciable light, unless you were born and bred in these woods. But as Horace had pointed out, "Sheeeeet, ain’t nobody out here what wouldn’t have a fire like this. If we don’t have one, we’ll attract more attention. AJ pitied the SEAL team who silently surrounded their encampment. Those boys didn’t have the luxury of even a tiny fire. They were in full incursion mode and they hid in their battle dress and camouflage field gear. It was cold in the mountains, though only in the low thirties. He was wrapped in a sleeping bag certified to ten below zero. As Horace said, "Son, it’s damn cold for here bouts."
But AJ relished the cold. He relished the small stone he had missed that was worrying his side. He focused on the sounds around him, on Horace’s even breathing. Then, when that didn’t work he went over every report that Sheffield would demand the minute he returned. He tried to think of any thing but the one thing nudging at his consciousness, the one reason why he tried so hard not to fall asleep. Sarah MacKenzie.
God, he thought he had managed it. And for a while he had. He knew he had. There had been an entire stretch of years when he could look at her and feel no pang, no regrets for a course not taken. He knew that for her, another illicit liaison with a CO – and with him there would be no extenuating circumstances - would have been devastating. In his entire career he had crossed that line only once and the morning after had been embarrassing, fumbling and ultimately destroyed the friendship he had shared with the female officer before having sex with her. He wouldn’t do that to Sarah. Even if it was she who wanted it, instigated it.
She had been so damn hot standing there in the kitchen. Her nipples hard against her tee shirt, her hair tousled from sleep. Those legs. He was getting hard just thinking about it. Bending over like that. All of which he could have ignored. He had even been willing to push a little, knowing that she would blush and back off. Only she hadn’t. He was doomed. That kiss had sealed his fate.
When had it changed from a mild ache to passion, no, love? He was trying so hard to remember when? Was it on the Seahawk during the tribunal when they had almost lost her in the camp? Webb and Gunny had saved her ass then. Was it when she went undercover with Webb in Suriname? When? And then it struck him full force. He almost laughed out loud. He must have jerked because Horace snorted and grumbled. Lying perfectly still so the deputy could relax again, he finally came face to face with the answer. Rabb. How long, like some psychotic stage mother, had he put his lost dreams and desires into Harmon Rabb? God, it was pathetic. Seeing his younger self in the macho, egocentric top gun. Letting him leave to fly tomcats again and then welcoming him back with open arms, cutting him more slack than he ever cut anyone, including the one woman who meant anything to him besides his daughter. Had he really thought that if she was with Rabb it was the next best thing to being with him? Now he knew that the two of them would never be together because, ultimately, Sarah had made the right choice. And Rabb? Well, if they saved his ass from the crazed mountain folk, then Rabb would go through life, much like AJ himself, alone and taking his comfort in any woman except the one who was right for him. Perhaps even calling her name at a truly unforgivable moment. It was a wonder that Meredith hadn’t cut his penis off. But he knew that Meredith would never tell Mac. No woman would.
"Ya’ll gonna jess lay there all night thinkin’ about her or are you gonna get some sleep, son?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Sheeet, AJ, my ten year old hound can see the way you feel about her. Shame she’s a subordinate and all."
"You’re mistaken, Horace. Besides, which subordinate are you referring to?" He added that for good measure.
A snort was his only response and for a while he thought maybe Horace hadn’t even spoke, that the conversation had been some delusion in his head.
"Boy, that Marine Colonel is a fine woman. Thoroughbred. Don’t many of them comes around often. Most men don’t even gets to see one like that in real life. Pretty as the dawn comin’ up on the river. Bet she’s a smart one too."
"Damn straight. Best lawyer I have."
"There ya go. And she never takes her eyes off of you. Cept for yesta’day mornin’ when she were so mad at you I’d a thought the papers in her hands would go up like Lucifer’s own list. What fool thing did you say to her?"
"Nothing inappropriate, Horace. Nothing at all." Dear lord. If this redneck could read it, what about someone like Webb? Webb would use it against him for sure. Could walk in to his office and snap his fingers and say, ‘AJ I need this or I need that and’…where was the goddamn difference in that. Webb already did that now. Or he used to, before Suriname, before he came back with that hangdog look. Even on this mission that had the entire state on yellow alert, Webb was a source for the Navy, tracking down evidence that members of the armed forces and suppliers to both the Navy and Army were traitors.
"Now, if I had me a shot at some fine filly like that, I’d do jess about anything it would take."
"It isn’t going to happen, Horace. And, I would appreciate it if…"
"Aw shucks, boy. You think I’d say anything? Besides to you or her."
AJ rolled over and glared at the shadow on the other side of the tent. "Horace, if you say a word to her…"
"What are you gonna do about it, AJ? Court Martial me? Shoot. I ain’t gonna. You’ll be sorry though. Sorrier than my Aunt Tillie on her deathbed. Ninety-eight and a church goin’ woman her whole life. She grabbed me as she lay dyin’ and said, ‘Horace boy, don’t do like I did. Don’t go through life without the love of a good person to keep you warm at night.’"
"What did you do? Go out and marry your wife?" AJ said sarcastically.
"Hale, no. Went out got me another huntin’ dog." Horace laughed, then turned serious. "Course, you fool. Be thirty-five years next month. Now you thinks on that, but try and get some sleep. We’re up at dawn."
:: :: :: ::
The tension in Bobbi Jo’s house was as thick as the fog outside the window. Bobbi Jo and Mac had driven back into town in total silence. Bobbi Jo’s euphoria of incredible sex was quickly dispelled under the weight of Mac’s stony silence. Shame dissolved into anger but she couldn’t express it. Mac thought she was slut and she knew the Marine was right, just like Tom had been right. She could have stopped the one with a word, a scream, her gun, she could have stopped tonight by never taking that first step into the fishing shack, could have not kissed him, invited him to fuck her senseless.
:: :: :: ::
Mac couldn’t believe it. One minute Webb was comforting her, the next he and Bobbi Jo were fucking like bunnies. She tried hard to maintain an air of righteous indignation but as she lay there on the twin bed next to Tracy she knew she was lying to herself. She was jealous. Bobbi Jo saw what she wanted and took it. See, want, take. Well what if you couldn’t take what you wanted? What if he wouldn’t allow it? What if she wound up in a goddamn loveless marriage with some poor schmuck like Mic who only wanted her love and Jesus H. Christ, she had to get some sleep.
Tracy was moaning in her bed and Mac wondered if it was from a nightmare or a wet dream. Oh good, now she was turning into Singer on top of everything else. She couldn’t go on like this. She had managed to fool herself for nearly five years. Five long years wasted. Well no more. She had sworn off Harmon Rabb. It wasn’t enough. She would leave. She would find another path for her life. And while it scared her silly, she knew that it wasn’t a new thought. The Marines had been her support system, her family, her life. Perhaps it was time to stretch her wings. As she fell asleep she thought maybe SHE would become a sheriff in a small town.
:: :: :: ::
Bobbi Jo stood by the window in her bedroom and stared out into the fog rolling in. It had been the best sex she had experienced in a long time. Good, guilt-free, fun sex, at least until MacKenzie gave her that withering look before climbing into the Jeep for the ride back to town. Well, fuck that shit! She had enjoyed it and so had Webb.
God, Julio Costa had played a number on her, destroyed her relationship with Tommy, even as she was telling herself that it was just an assignment, just something she had to do to bring down a group of rich pedophiles. But Tommy hadn’t understood. With all his psychiatric training, in the end it had all boiled down to macho territorial bullshit. Would Webb understand? Had he ever done anything for the job that sickened him? In the end they put an entire ring of predators behind bars. Her rep in the department had soared and several federal agencies had put out feelers for her services. And Tommy had just looked at her like she was a slut, called her one too. "You liked it! Admit you liked it and we can get past it." Only she hadn’t liked it. Couldn’t make him understand that. And in the end she believed him on some level, believed the testimony that Julio gave on the witness stand, even as she sat in the courtroom, flanked by her partner, her captain, the chief of police and the SAC of the local FBI. They had all listened to how she had willingly participated in an orgy while her partner and the rest of the backup team was frantically trying to get to her with the arrest warrants. Tommy had ignored the fact that she had been torn and bleeding. He had insisted that on some level she had enjoyed it and the only way to get past it was to delve deeper into it. And when she told Tommy she was leaving to find the killer of her father he had told her it was bullshit, bringing in the lousy relationship with her mother to boot! She forced herself to turn away from the fog and memories and lay down on the bed. Idly she wondered just how long she could go with no sleep.
:: :: :: ::
Monday, Midmorning
Her head was throbbing and the few hours of sleep felt worse than if she hadn’t slept at all. Bobbi Jo glared at Miss Loraine and the remaining four whores and almost groaned when Manetti started in on them again.
"Ladies, a federal agent was attacked. You were witnesses to it. We need the answers and we need them right now. Who were the men behind those robes?"
"Sugah, I’m only gonna tell you this one more time. I ain’t talkin’ without Preston being right here in the room."
"That’s it." Bobbi Jo slammed her coffee cup down on the table splattering coffee on herself, Manetti, Loraine, and one of the FBI boys. "Let them loose."
"Sheriff!" Tracy gasped, staring at her like she had lost her mind.
"I don’t think I can do that, Sheriff," the FBI agent said cautiously as he ineffectually swiped the coffee off his shirt and tie, all the while keeping worried eyes on her.
"No. I can do it. This is my county and I can do it. Cut them loose. And then," she stood and opened the interrogation room door. "Cletus!"
"Yes ma’am?"
"Go fetch Charlie Gleason."
Cletus gulped and nodded.
"What you fixin’ to do Bobbi Jo?" Loraine purred.
"Why, sugar, I’m givin’ in. I’m giving Charlie the reason why I’m resigning. You know he’s been after a story that will get him out of this town and on a big city paper. Oh honey, the story I’m going to give him, full of sex and drugs and videotapes. All those strip poker games you hosted for all those state officials, not to mention our own dear mayor. You think I didn’t know? You think that I gave a rats ass?" Again she went to the door. "Reuben!"
"Yes, sheriff?"
"Go tell Judge Haney we have enough information to search the house on the Crawford Pike. Miss Loraine Beaumount’s house."
"You sure about this, sheriff?"
"Yep. Do it. If Haney wants to know the information, give him that photo we took two months ago, don’t bother telling him the date we took it though."
"Now you listen here, Bobbi Jo Thibodeau." Lorraine was on her feet, fists balled on the table between them, the cold distain she had shown for 48 hours now turned to fearful anger. "You know what you’re doin?"
"Shit, honey. I always knew this day would come. I just hoped I could use it to a better advantage. Your life just got forfeited, Loraine. From what I hear, Sam ain’t a real forgiving man."
"It will never stand up in court. They’ll throw it out."
"Sure they will, sweetie. I always knew that too. You think Sam Nichols is going to care about that?"
"He’ll track you down, Bobbi Jo. Track you down and kill you."
"Maybe, but you won’t be alive to see it, Loraine." Bobbi Jo almost smiled at the shocked look on the FBI agent’s face. As he ran from the room she looked over at the bewildered Tracy Manetti. "Sit down Commander. Sit down and enjoy the fireworks. The rest of you girls, get on out here and if I were you I’d run as fast as I could."
"I’m sorry ma’am. But just who is Sam Nichols?" Tracy asked as the room emptied of everyone but Loraine, Bobbi Jo and herself.
"Well no reason why you should know. Mr. Nichols pretty much runs this state, from the wings of course. He does it the good old fashion way too – through blackmail and intimidation. He’s got some powerful friends and I doubt seriously that this will hurt him much."
"Fuck no, it won’t hurt him. He had your daddy killed and that didn’t …." Loraine’s voice trailed off and as Bobbi Jo stared at her in horror, her eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted, falling hard to the floor of the cell. It was no act and Bobbi Jo understood where the whore was coming from. She was having a hard time keeping upright; the bile rising in her stomach was threatening to erupt.
She was barely aware of Manetti standing up and going to the door. "Sergeant, send for Colonel MacKenzie and Mr. Webb. And Sergeant, NO BODY, I don’t care who it is, gets inside unless it is MacKenzie, Webb or Seaborn! Oh and Sergeant, draw your sidearm."
:: :: :: ::
Webb, driving one of the jeeps that the Marines had arrived in, was glad that the drive was only about 30 minutes. It was colder in the car than it was outside. He wanted to look over at Mac and ask her what the hell was wrong but the narrow rutted road from the fishing resort to town was too perilous for that. "Mac?"
"Yeah?"
"What’s wrong?"
"Nothing?"
"Bullshit. You’ve been hell on wheels all morning. You practically left me behind when we got the call for help from town."
"Well you’re the one who’s driving, I couldn’t have left you behind."
"Mac, please. Talk to me. Does this have anything to do with Bobbi Jo?"
"You work kind of fast there didn’t you, Webb." She snapped. "Or did you two get better acquainted than I thought while the car was being repaired."
"Mac."
"You never tried…"
"Do not start. I don’t know what the hell is wrong, unless…Shit. I won’t have this conversation with you."
"You’re the one who started it."
"Yeah, because I consider you a friend and you’re in pain and I didn’t have anything to do with it. Yet, you’re acting like one of these righteous small town churchwomen who have nothing to do but point out other peoples’ sins. So tell me, Mac, when did simple fornication become your personal abomination?"
"Just shut up! I just think that with Harm in danger and AJ out there trying to rescue him you could be a little more circumspect."
He stopped the jeep so hard that it nearly veered off the road. She had to brace herself to keep from sliding forward. Turning towards her he leaned into her personal space. "How other people take comfort in times of stress is absolutely none of your business, Sarah. If you can’t figure out a way to get what you want, don’t take it out on the rest of us." Her eyes grew wide and he barely caught the glistening tears that threatened. He didn’t give her a chance though. Turning back to the wheel, throwing the car into gear he sped back to town, too fast, bouncing them both like a fun ride at the amusement park.
When they arrived, he didn’t wait for her but ran into the police station. There was man yelling at one of the Marines. "She sent for me. You have no right to keep me out of there, the public has a right to know."
"Deputy Barnett!" Webb growled at the startled Jimmy Bob.
"Y-yes, sir."
"Who is this?"
"That there is Charlie Gleason of the Helensburg Star. Seems that Bobbi Jo done sent Cletus for him, only now that lady sailor won’t let nobody in ‘cept you and the lady colonel and the FBI man, only he’s not…" the door burst open and Jace Seaborn was by their side.
"What the hell is going on? I was just finishing up the final search out at the motel."
"Got me," Webb sighed.
The door burst open again and this time a chubby man with a enflamed face huffed, "Where the hale is Bobbi Jo. Is she insane!"
Rueben Hickock stood just behind him with angry aggrieved look on his face and sighed, "Judge Haney."
Webb stalked to the door, Mac and Seaborn just behind him. The sailor, his handgun held across his chest in strict readiness couldn’t keep the relief off his face. "Thank god you’re here sirs, ma’am. I think Commander Manetti is in over her head." He opened the door and Webb gasped in surprised when he saw Loraine huddled in a corner, cringing. Manetti was actually struggling with Bobbi Jo.
"Ma’am, you don’t want to do this, ma’am. Please, just give me the gun."
"Get out of my way, Tracy. You heard what she said. Loraine, God damn your soul to hell! You knew it was a ploy. You would have given me what I wanted and I would have left you alone. But you said it and now I’ve got no choice. You tell me what you know or so help me god, I will blow your ass straight to hell!"
"Sheriff Thibodeau!" Webb hadn’t used that voice in long time. He doubted even now that he had the authority to use it, but that had never stopped him before. "What the hell is going on?"
Mac and Seaborn stepped into the room. Bobbi Jo turned slowly around to face them; tears were streaming down her face. "Clay? She knows. She knows who killed him. She said so."
"Killed who?" He asked softly, edging around toward her. Tracy stood her ground but he could see that she was trembling from fear.
When Bobbi Jo wouldn’t answer him, Tracy took a deep breath. "When the Sheriff threatened to blow the whistle on someone named Sam Nichols, somebody important in the state I guess, Loraine blurted out that Nichols had her father killed and got away with it, then she passed out. I sent for you but didn’t do anything until Loraine came to and started screaming at Bobbi Jo. That’s when Bobbi Jo when after her."
"Holy Shit!" Jace Seaborn breathed. "You got proof of that, Loraine?"
"Fuck off. I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ to nobody. Just get out. She ain’t gonna kill me. Not even for the sake of her daddy. She ain’t got it in her."
"Manetti."
"Yes, Mr. Webb."
"Go get us some coffee. Mac, help her."
"No, Clay."
"You heard me, Colonel."
"No."
"Go on, Tracy," Seaborn said quietly and then closed the door behind her.
"Clay, what are you going to do?" Mac demanded.
"Stay or don’t Mac. But don’t bitch about having to keep this to yourself."
"Clay!"
He walked over and knelt before Loraine. He could hear Bobbi Jo’s ragged breathing. The sounds from the outer office were a vague backdrop. Loraine raised her eyes and met the intensity and tried to shrink deeper into the corner. "Go away."
"Listen to me, sweetheart. You have information that we want to know. If you walk out of here, I suspect that you’ll be dead by morning. You think that someone hasn’t already called old Sam? Tell me. Does Sam still like under-aged boys?" He ignored the sharp intake of breath from both women. Seaborn didn’t make a sound. "You think Agent Seaborn and I didn’t know? You think we care? Sam plays the right kind of ball, and I’m not sure who owes whom this week, but Seaborn and I always like to have a little favor owed us. You think we won’t give you to him? Now. Who were the men behind those robes? Does Sam know?"
"No! No. Not then. He didn’t know about it until you killed Kenny James."
"Kenny was part of that!"
"Shut up, Bobbi Jo!" Clay snapped. "Where is his body?"
"I don’t know! I swear to God, I don’t know. Reverend Deniston said if I didn’t keep my mouth shut he would tell Sam I was holding out on the money we owed him."
"Sweet," Seaborn said and joined Webb in front of her. "That’s two. Who was the last one?"
From just outside the door they heard a commotion. "Get out of my way, Sergeant! I have to tell her."
"Deputy, it will have to wait."
"Bobbi Jo! You hear me."
Webb never took his eyes off Loraine. "Go find out what he wants, Bobbi Jo."
The door opened and he heard her whisper, "What is it, Rueben?"
"Mayor Bodine, jess killed himself, Sheriff. Put an sawed off shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. It’s a mess. Only way we know for sure it’s him is his secretary saw it. Miss Odette is hysterical."
"Thank you, Rueben. Secure his house and do a thorough search there and at his office. Doesn’t he have that…oh shit!"
"What is it, Bobbi Jo?" Webb demanded, his voice still harsh.
"I think I know where they might be."
"Well then, I guess we don’t need Loraine after all. See you at the funeral home, Loraine." He and Seaborn stood and turned away from her.
"No! You can’t do that. Bobbi Jo. You can’t do this to me. I can tell you stuff. I can tell you about your daddy.
Bobbi Jo wouldn’t meet Clay’s gaze. "Well then start talking, Loraine. I haven’t got all day."