Rock-a-Bye Bones (33 page)

When I glanced around to see what had happened, Sweetie Pie stood beside me. I sat up, my weapon still on Potter. In the distance ATVs roared through the woods toward me. At last, Coleman was here. It was too late for Pleasant, but Sweetie Pie had saved Luther Potter. The moment when I'd been capable of pulling the trigger had passed.

My hound gave a sharp howl and took off through the woods. Chablis and Pluto were hot on her heels. They disappeared into the underbrush without a backward glance.

The shaking started in my hand and then moved into the rest of my body. Aunt Loulane would say that I suffered from Saint Vitus Dance. Had Potter been less of a coward, he could probably have gotten up and run away, because I was incapable of stopping him. The bullet hole in his leg, which was actually bleeding a lot, was as effective as a chain around his waist. A pale blue tinge had settled on his features, from either cold or blood loss. I didn't really care. If Coleman took much longer, maybe the bastard would bleed out.

Alas, it was not to be. A four-wheeler crashed through the underbrush, and Coleman zoomed down the slight hill toward me. He jumped off the ATV and rushed to me. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I'm good.” I pointed at Potter. “He's shot and Pleasant is dead. She's over there. Owen DeLong is back at the cabin.” And then I burst into tears.

Coleman clutched me to him, but he was taking no chances with Potter. As soon as DeWayne came to a stop, Coleman told him to radio the sheriff's office and ask Francine to call the air flight helicopter service out of Memphis immediately. “Then cuff Potter.”

“He doesn't look like he's going anywhere,” DeWayne said.

“Cuff him anyway.”

I'd managed to compose myself, and I pushed back from the comfort of Coleman's arms. “I'm sorry. I'm okay.”

“Can you show me where Pleasant is?” he asked.

I didn't want to, but I had no choice. We needed to get her body out of the woods. Someone would have to tell her grandmother. And Frankie. It was going to be a long, hideous evening.

When I saw Pleasant stretched out on the ground where I'd left her, I was shocked to see all of the critters around the body. Sweetie was lying on top of her back, and Chablis was on her thighs. Pluto had curled up on her calves. They were protecting her, and that made me burst into tears again.

“She was so cold, and we got wet. She'd been starved and was weak.” Fury gave me strength. “She died because of the way they treated her. I should have shot Potter while I had the chance.”

“No, Sarah Booth.”

“I meant to. I had the barrel against his head and my finger on the trigger. Sweetie knocked me down. I was going to blow his brains all over the woods.”

“I know.” He put an arm around me. “I saw you. I was terrified you'd pull the trigger. Thank god Sweetie Pie stopped you.”

“He needs to die.”

“But not by your hand. You are not judge and executioner. You are not. You would never have been able to live with that. You owe your future to your dog.”

I knelt down beside Pleasant. “Sweetie, you can move now. We'll take care of her.”

Coleman knelt beside me. He checked her pulse, a routine action.

“She's alive, Sarah Booth. Just barely, but alive. The animals are warming her body.” He stood and took off his dry jacket and wrapped it around Pleasant's still form. Sweetie returned to the job of body heat exchange.

“DeWayne, get that helicopter here now! She's alive. Hypothermia.”

Moving quickly he gathered sticks. They were wet, but Coleman had built more bonfires and campfires and marshmallow roasting fires than anyone I knew. In a few short moments he had a blaze going beside her, and I had my jacket off drying and warming it over the flames. When it was heated, I put it on her legs and we warmed Coleman's jacket and returned it to her shoulders.

“Bring Potter's jacket,” Coleman called out to DeWayne.

“What?” the deputy said.

“Bring him over here. He can sit by the fire. I need his jacket. And yours.”

In five minutes Coleman had organized a rotation of warm coverings for Pleasant. He'd hold the jackets by the fire until they were toasty and then apply them to her body, exchanging them as they cooled. Luther Potter hunkered by the fire, weak and defeated. To my dismay, DeWayne had fashioned a tourniquet and stopped Potter's bleeding.

As Pleasant's body temperature began to rise and the outlook for her survival improved, my anger began to seep away, leaving me shaken by what I'd almost done. I kept looking at Potter, imagining him dead by my hand. Coleman was correct. I would never have been able to live with myself. Taking another's life, except in self-defense, could only be called murder, and I was no murderer. Had Sweetie not stopped me, though, I wondered if I would have been able to stop myself. That question would stay with me for the rest of my life.

I shifted over to sit by Sweetie Pie and stroke her long, silky ears as we waited for the helicopter. Pluto curled up in my lap, and Chablis nuzzled under my arm. It was only then that I thought to ask, “Where's Tinkie?”

“She called me and told me how to find you. She said she'd be right behind me.”

Coleman frowned. “We'll call and be sure she's okay as soon as we get somewhere with a signal.”

“What about Owen DeLong? He's back in the cabin.” The cohort, who was just as evil as Potter, could be on the loose in the woods and he might have grabbed Tinkie. Such a scenario made me stand up.

Coleman patted his radio. “Not anymore. Sheriff Kincaid picked him up about ten minutes ago. DeLong's telling everything he can to Hoss. Hopes to work a deal.”

“Don't give him anything. No deals. He beat Pleasant whenever he felt like it.”

“Don't worry. These two are going away for a long, long time. Probably the rest of their lives. We have enough on them to put them away, and Pleasant's testimony will be the red ribbon on top of the package. I believe we'll prove Potter killed Rudy Uxall, and that's an automatic life without parole.”

And while it was justice of a kind, it wouldn't undo what they'd done to a mother and child and all the rest of us. Even me. I'd carry the scars of this day.

 

25

Coleman had given the helicopter specific landing instructions for an area that had been clear-cut by illegal timbering. While the rape of the land upset me, this was one time I was glad to have a cleared area for the chopper to set down.

In no time at all, Pleasant was loaded and on her way to the hospital in Zinnia. With Coleman's care, her condition had improved to the point that the EMTs felt the long trip to Memphis was unnecessary. She could stay at the local hospital, and as soon as Doc said her condition was stabilized enough, I would put her baby girl in her arms.

Potter was in no danger, so his transport to the local hospital would be on a four-wheeler and then in the backseat of a patrol car. I only hoped that he felt every bump along the way. While I was immensely glad I hadn't killed him, I was not over wanting him to suffer.

Coleman and DeWayne stood on either side of me as we waved the helicopter off. Potter was cuffed to one of the ATVs. I heard the sound of additional machines, and Hoss Kincaid and two deputies came out of the woods. Owen DeLong rode behind the Bolivar County sheriff. When he saw Potter, he cursed a blue streak. I couldn't tell who his spleen was directed at and didn't care to investigate. If I saw a chance when someone wasn't looking, I'd kick him in the crotch as hard as I could.

Hoss pulled up beside us. “Want me to take the other one?”

“Sarah Booth shot him in the leg. I'd better take him to the hospital.”

Hoss laughed. “You're a tiger, Ms. Delaney. I underestimated you, but I won't ever do that again.”

“He meant to kill me. It was self-defense.”

Hoss shared a long look with Coleman. I could almost read his mind. Was it really self-defense?

“Potter was tracking Sarah Booth and Pleasant Smith. He meant to kill them—said as much to Sarah Booth.
He
also underestimated her.”

“Sometimes good things happen to bad people,” Hoss said with a grin that lifted the corners of his big mustache. “Good job, Sarah Booth.”

Coleman filled Hoss in on the rest of the case. “We almost lost the missing girl. She'd been beaten, starved, and abused. Hypothermia almost finished her off. But Sarah Booth got her out of that cabin and away. Potter took her captive so he could sell her baby. He had a buyer lined up, and as soon as I find out the lawyer who was handling the sale, I'll let you know. Charges there, too. I'm still checking into the role those teenage girls and Carrie Ann Musgrove played in this whole mess.”

Hoss leaned toward me. “Men like Potter and DeLong don't learn. They want someone to abuse, whether it's a dog or a woman or a kid. They hate themselves, and so they want to crush anything of joy in whoever comes under their authority. There was a time in my law enforcement career that I would have been tempted to take them out. I mean there's a standoff in the woods, it's kill or be killed. And even if it didn't play out exactly that way, justice would be served.”

What he described was familiar enough to make me blush. “I wanted to kill him. I would have if my dog hadn't knocked me down.”

“Buy that dog a T-bone,” Hoss said. “Taking a life never leaves you. Even when you have no other choice. All in all, I'd say you did a good job. Oh, and by the way, we have a lead on that bail skip, Gertrude Strom.”

“What?” I thought maybe I'd heard him wrong.

“She checked into the Riverview Motel under a false name, but the young girl at the desk recognized her from the wanted flyer. The clerk knows you, Sarah Booth. Said you were a good egg. Anyway, a couple of bounty hunters had stopped by the motel asking questions and offering a reward on top of what Yancy Bellow offered. The clerk called the bounty hunters.”

“Did they get Gertrude?”

He shook his head. “She got away, but someone saw her driving on Highway 8 through Sunflower County. The bounty hunters are about twenty minutes behind her. Highway patrol has put up roadblocks, and the bounty hunters are hard after her. They won't stop until they have her in custody.”

Could it really be coming to an end? Coleman nodded encouragement at me. “She can't escape now,” he said.

I hadn't been aware of the heavy, heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders until it lifted. I stood up taller. Pleasant was saved, and Gertrude would be behind bars. “Thank goodness.” I wanted to say a lot more, but I was too tired to speak.

“I'd better transport Potter to the hospital,” Coleman said. He gave Hoss a salute and motioned for DeWayne to lead the way out. Coleman tucked Chablis in his jacket and I took Pluto. The cat wasn't happy with the idea of a four-wheeler ride, but he knew which side his bread was buttered on and curled up against my chest.

I climbed on behind Coleman, glad for his solid warmth as we headed for civilization. Careful not to crush Pluto, I pressed my face against the back of Coleman's leather jacket and allowed my brain to empty. The only thing that mattered was hanging on to the man in front of me.

*   *   *

When we made it to the main road, a Ram 350 with a trailer for the ATVs was waiting for us, along with a patrol car. Coleman put Potter in the backseat of the patrol car and DeWayne wasted no time heading for the emergency room and Doc Sawyer. Potter was in no danger of dying, but he needed medical attention, and Coleman would never compromise the case against him by neglecting to provide it.

I helped Coleman load the four-wheelers on the trailer and tie them down and then secured the critters in the backseat of the truck. Sweetie Pie loved to ride up high in a big truck. I slammed into the front seat. When Coleman cranked up the thermostat, I thought I might faint with the first blast of real heat. I'd been cold for so long, the warmth was a shock.

Coleman pulled me against him and held me close as he drove to town. For a moment, it took me back to high school days, when riding next to the boy of your dreams was a Friday night happening.

He dropped the truck and trailer off at the courthouse, tucked me and the pets into a patrol car, and drove to the hospital.

The hospital parking lot was mostly empty. The holiday was hard upon us and those patients who could go home had been released. Scanning the area, I frowned. “Where is Tinkie?” I'd expected her to be with Doc, but there was no evidence of her Cadillac anywhere on the hospital property.

Coleman checked his phone. “She was supposed to catch up with us in the woods. I wasn't concerned when she didn't show, because she doesn't have access to an all-wheel-drive vehicle. The Caddy wasn't designed for those conditions, but she hasn't even called to check on you.”

Worry ate at me. Pleasant had been found. Tinkie had surely heard the news, yet she was absent. She should have been here, with Libby. I remembered her good-bye in the woods, just before she drove away. A terrible suspicion took root in my brain.

“Are you okay?” Coleman asked when he opened his door and got out of the car and I didn't move.

“I am.” But I wasn't. “I'm still a bit frozen. I'll sit here a little while and get good and toasty, then I'll be right behind you.”

He looked back in through the open door, assessing me. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“I am.”

He gave me the key so I could start the motor and heater. “If I see Tinkie, I'll send her out to you.”

“Perfect.” I forced a smile. But he wouldn't find Tinkie. She wasn't in the hospital, and she wasn't at Hilltop. In fact, I would be willing to bet she wasn't in Sunflower County any longer. Possibly not Mississippi. I calculated the time from when she'd dropped me off to the present. She had a three or four hour lead. She was on the run with baby Libby.