Plains Crazy (24 page)

Considering what had been going on today, Mad Dog didn't like the way he'd put it. “What makes you say that?”

Davis took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. “Dad tried to explain her to me once. If you knew her while she was here, you must remember her father ran off and abandoned her and her mother. People treated them as second-class citizens because of that.”

“It's not true…” Mad Dog began. Though, on second thought he had to admit it might have seemed that way to Janie and her mother. Folks in Benteen County were slow to accept strangers, and inclined to discuss their strangeness. Hell, they were inclined to discuss everybody's strangeness, as Mad Dog knew from years of testing their limits. Janie and her mother hadn't been treated like pariahs, but they hadn't stuck around long enough to win real acceptance either. Janie had been a top student and a cheerleader at Buffalo Springs High, but he supposed she'd had to be twice as cute and vivacious and to work twice as hard as anybody else in order to accomplish that. Mad Dog had only noticed the cute and vivacious parts, then the loss of his heart.

“Well, she thought so,” Davis continued. “She hated this place. Dad told me she ran away from here because she was pregnant and abandoned.” He gave Mad Dog a hard look with this disclosure and Mad Dog decided not to argue the point. “You got any idea how a seventeen-year-old high school-drop out supports herself?”

Mad Dog didn't, and wasn't sure he wanted to know. He avoided the man's eyes, looked down at Davis' shoes instead—good ones, hiking boots with a footprint that even looked expensive.

“She only had one commodity. Her body. That's how Dad met her. He was a city prosecutor. She'd had a couple of years in the life by then, but she still had an innocence about her, or so he told me. He rescued her. At least he thought he did. I was the result. I was her first and only child. She had an abortion when she left here because she had to keep her figure to market it. But I guess she never really loved Dad, or not as much as she loves money. They split after she finished her MBA. I was seven. Since then, she's passed in and out of my life on her schedule. Oh, she loves me in her way, but she loves besting the opposition in a business deal more.”

“I'm sorry,” Mad Dog said, forcing himself to meet the man's eyes again. “I had no idea. But what you said about her wanting to blow Buffalo Springs off the face of the earth, that was an exaggeration wasn't it?”

“Not an exaggeration,” Davis replied. “Just a figure of speech. Do you know who my mother is? What she does?”

“Obviously not,” Mad Dog said.

“She's Chair and CEO of one of the most innovative energy corporations in the Americas.”

“Oh Jeez,” Mad Dog said. “Not Windreapers?”

Davis nodded. “The only reason I can imagine her coming back to Kansas would be to wipe your hometown off the map and replace it with a wind farm.”

It was starting to make sense. “How about your daughter? Would she know where Janie is? Your mom talked about being in touch with Jackie. She said part of the reason she came back was to visit her. Could we ask?”

“We could if I knew where Jackie's got to,” Davis said. “She's been missing from here all day.”

“But I saw her this morning. She and some guy were bringing in a pickup load of stuff.”

Davis shook his head. “Only load we had come in today was that stuffed buffalo Chad drove up from Pretty Prairie.” He glanced around, located a couple of guys sorting through piles of leather and fur under a tarp, and shouted, “Hey, Chad. Did Jackie go with you to get the buffalo?”

Chad wandered over. He smiled at Mad Dog and acknowledged him with a, “Hey, man.” Then he turned to Davis. “She didn't go with me. I thought you knew that. I found her walking along the road as I was coming back. She'd run out of gas and asked me to drop her at the filling station in town.”

“You seen her since?” Davis asked.

“No, sir. And, actually, I didn't get her to the gas station. Just after this gentleman helped us with our tire, we passed a red Buick. She waved it down and told me to let her out.”

The kid had Mad Dog's attention now. “The Buick, do you have any idea who was driving it?”

Chad wrinkled his forehead and put a finger to his chin. “You know, there were two people in the car. When she saw them she stuck her head out of the truck and waved and shouted at them. She called one of them ‘Gran,' the other one, I thought his name would have been more appropriate if we were in Oklahoma, since that musical is the only time I'd heard the name used before.”

“Oklahoma?” Davis asked.

“Yeah,” the kid replied. “Rod Steiger played the role in the movie…”

Mad Dog didn't have to wait for the boy's answer. “Jud,” he said. Jud Haines was the principal backer of the Benteen County Energy Coop and its impending deal with Windreapers. And Janie was Windreapers. God, Janie must really hate him, and this community, to have planned such an elaborate revenge. Englishman had to be warned.

***

It left the sheriff feeling like that time just after he was first elected. He was called out to an accident on the blacktop east of town. A bad one. The car was crumpled under the cattle truck that had broadsided it, then dragged the remains more than a hundred yards beyond the intersection. He hadn't recognized it as his mother's until he wrote down the plate number. That was long after he'd determined the truck driver was the only survivor. And then, he'd had to carry on, because the trucker had two broken legs and there were dead and injured cattle everywhere.

The sheriff shook his head—like he was trying to shake off his need to deal with Judy the way he shook water from his short cropped hair. The aquatic metaphor was all too apt. He felt like he was underwater, struggling desperately to reach the surface. He forced himself to take a couple of deep breaths and then turned to his attentive audience.

“I guess you all understand I don't have time to spare for this. But several bombs have gone off this morning. I lied to Doc so he'd tell me what's going on with Judy. Somebody else left that bomb stuffed in the deposit box. Judy took it inside, but she didn't know what it was. So, tell me again, Mr. Finfrock, who did you give that C4 to?”

Finfrock seemed anxious to please. “Haines. I gave it to Jud Haines.”

“In trade for a Sharps buffalo rifle?”

“Yeah, that's right.”

“And how would Supervisor Haines come by an antique buffalo gun?”

“A garage sale?” Finfrock fidgeted in his seat. “That don't sound too likely, does it? But it's what he told me.”

The sheriff didn't bother with that one. “He tell you why he wanted the plastic explosives?”

“Tree trunks,” Finfrock said around a sheepish grin. “Look, I guess this all sounds pretty wild, now I hear myself saying it, but I've been looking for a Sharps for years, and when he came in the bar with it, well, I pretty much gave him everything he wanted. But it's Jud Haines we're talking about. He wouldn't hurt anybody. I mean, he's a supervisor, just like me and Chairman Wynn here.”

“We just gave him three million dollars,” the chairman said. From the sound of his voice, he didn't seem as sure of Haines' innocence as Finfrock.

The sheriff ignored the chairman and concentrated on Finfrock. “And you didn't think anything of it when bombs started going off all over Buffalo Springs the morning after you made that trade?”

“How'd you know it was last night?”

“'Cause that's when someone went into one of the RVs where they're shooting that PBS special and stole a Cheyenne bow and some arrows…”

“And a Sharps,” Finfrock finished for him. “I shoulda known it was too good to be true. But I was with him when we found that bomb over at the Texaco. He couldn't have planted it, could he?”

“We found the remains of a timer from that bomb,” the sheriff said. “It couldn't have been set for more than sixty seconds. That means somebody who was still at the station had to have dropped it there, or…”

“Haines brought it there himself,” Finfrock said. “Shit. I gave him a whole range of timers and radio controlled switches along with a bunch of detonators. He said he wanted to experiment and I sure wanted that Sharps.”

“Three million dollars,” the chairman wailed. “We just transferred three million dollars into the control of a terrorist bomber.”

The sheriff swiveled his wooden chair in Chairman Wynn's direction. “Where the hell could you get three million dollars?”

The chairman and Craig Finfrock exchanged worried glances.

“You know,” the chairman said. “Maybe Craig and I oughta talk to a lawyer after all.”

***

“Was that a law enforcement vehicle?” The man who'd been driving the Nissan was pointing down Main, out of town toward where the Heathers had disappeared from view only moments before.

Deputy Wynn chewed his lip for a moment as he decided how to deal with this. The man had walked around his Altima just fine, until he spotted the deputy. Now he had an exaggerated limp and was feeling his neck like he was considering what the symptoms of whiplash should be.

“Was that your county's vehicle?” the man asked, “'Cause it just left the scene of an accident with injuries. I mean the wife and I are banged up pretty good here, aren't you, Hon?” The woman looked confused for a moment before the light bulb went on.

“You know, I should probably see a doctor,” she said.

“Yes, sir, it was official,” Wynn told them. “Looked like you done it some damage in the back there, too.”

“I damaged it?” The man's voice was filled with moral outrage.

“Yup,” the deputy continued. “It came onto the street with light bar flashing and siren blaring. Don't you know you got to yield the right of way to an emergency vehicle, sir? Especially one involved in such an important errand.”

“But it never gave us a chance to stop. It caused the accident, not us.”

“No, sir,” Wynn proclaimed. “I could see you were speeding. Outsiders like you got to pay attention to our traffic signs. Serious accident like this, I probably couldn't find a judge who could get around to setting your bond before Monday. Have to hold you over the weekend.”

“Now wait a minute. I wasn't speeding.”

“Course you were. That's why I run out in the street here and tried to wave you down. I sure hope you're insured,” the deputy continued. “I hate to think of the damages you might be responsible for if our truck can't deliver that heart in time for the transplant.”

“Heart transplant?”

“And look here,” Wynn said, showing them the battered sack containing Mad Dog's dough. “You made them drop the liver. I'd ask to see your license and registration only I got to arrange fresh transport for this right now.”

“Uhh, sure,” the man agreed. “Don't let us keep you. We're feeling a lot better. We'll be on our way.” He wasn't limping as he hurried around his Nissan and got behind the wheel. His wife was already belting herself in.

“You guys keep a close eye on your speed now, you hear?”

“Sure thing, deputy,” the man called. The Altima was already rolling. “Thanks for the warning.”

Wynn watched as the man headed out of town as fast as five miles below the posted limit could take him. The deputy was feeling mighty proud of himself until he heard the squeal of another set of tires. He jumped onto the curb and whirled to see who had nearly run him down. It was a car with out-of-state plates, a rental, from which an attractive middle-aged woman emerged.

He was on a roll. He was still planning how he would put the fear of small town cops into her and send her on her way when she marched up and yanked the sack from his hands.

“What are you doing with that?” she demanded.

“Well I…” Wynn took a step back and wondered if he ought to draw his gun and show her who was in charge. It obviously wasn't him. She tore into the bag and he was surprised to see a small timer attached to one end of Mad Dog's dough. He'd heard you had to let dough rise before you baked it. Maybe that was why it tasted so bad. It wasn't ready yet, though the numbers on the timer indicated it was mighty close.

“Hey, that's Mad Dog's dough. And not very good from the taste of it, but I was gonna give it back to him.”

She paused and gave him a peculiar look.

“You ate some of this?” She seemed incredulous. “This isn't dough. It's C4 plastic explosive. Maybe you should see a doctor.” She shook her head as she jumped back in the car, popped it into gear, and headed east on Main as fast as the driver of the Nissan had wanted to go. Almost as fast as the Heathers.

“No,” Wynn said to her rear bumper. “She was kidding,” he muttered. But he had the sinking feeling she wasn't. His stomach rumbled. He felt a burp coming on. It made him very afraid.

***

Mrs. Kraus thought it was like when the second Heather appeared on the scene. The girl's crazy father had come looking for her, not because he wanted to take care of her himself, but to use her as a weapon against her mother. He was fresh out of prison. Hadn't seen his daughter in years. So he kidnapped the wrong Heather and threatened her life as a way to get at Two's equally loony mom.

Since he first got elected, Englishman had always tried to be a good lawman, even if he'd never had any formal training for the job other than a brief hitch in the army that sent him home with a Purple Heart and a cynical view of the world outside Benteen County. But when his own daughter's life had been on the line, he'd stopped being Sheriff and started being Dad.

This time it was Judy, and though the sheriff's bride might not be in quite such immediate danger, she was apparently running away—headed for Wichita and a flight to France. Mrs. Kraus could see Englishman wrestling with his duty—the threat to his community—and weighing it against his responsibility to Judy. She felt pretty sure the community was about to lose out.