Rocky Ride (Taming the Stallion #10)

Chapter Five

Thursday, October 17 th .

Outlaw Camp. Louisiana Bayou.

With Tiny Leduc and Beau Rivard along for the ride, Mason Swift powered his Jon boat up the weed-lined channel to the outlaw camp.

Over a pre-dawn cup of black coffee at Tiny’s place, the three of them formulated a rough plan. Not sure it would work with the number of variables that could come into play if one or more of the outlaws decided to play with guns.

Dawn broke pink on pewter over the cypress trees as they reached the dock belonging to the gang of nasties hiding from the law. Mason hopped out and tied his boat up alongside three others.

A single dog barked as they climbed the slope from the dock to the camp. The outlaw settlement consisted of three wooden shacks set back into the trees as well as a pair of rusty single-wide trailers barely visible in the morning mist.

It was a tossup where Tammy would be.

They planned to each take one of the shacks, locate the girl and get her out before any of the bad boys were fully awake and able to retaliate. Sleeping with guns and knives under their pillows would be a sure thing for the outlaws.

Mason waved his arm in a circular motion and Beau and Tiny veered off to take the other two shacks.

The shack Mason looked in first smelled of weed, spilled beer and dead fuckin fish. A pail of live crawfish sat in the corner of the kitchen.

Two double beds were crammed into the one bedroom—not a room—just partitioned off with a sheet of chipboard.

Four guys were asleep in that room. One girl between two of them. Mason looked closer and decided she was too old and well-worn to be Tammy.

He tip-toed out of that shack without disturbing the residents and saw Beau waving to him. Mason ran across the dry dirt to the shack where Beau stood and Beau whispered, “She’s in here.”

“Tied up?”

“Nope. Sleeping on the floor next to a dog.”

Mason pulled a shotgun out of the sling across his chest and entered the shack ahead of Beau. He poked Tammy with the barrel of the shotgun and said in a low voice, “You’re coming with me.”

Seeming keen to go, Tammy jumped up off the floor and ran out the door of the shack.

The outlaws living in that shack woke up when they heard Tammy’s footsteps. They saw strangers in their house and figured them for cops. That set off an instant round of shooting and Mason had no choice but to gun down all four of the fuckers with double-ought shot.

Shooting the outlaws took a couple of minutes and he didn’t want to lose Tammy. He hurried outside to catch up with the girl and saw her untying a boat at the dock.

Mason ran down the hill towards the river, “Stop, Tammy. I’m going to take you home to your mother. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She gave a couple of hard pulls on the Johnson, and she was gone.

“Fuck that,” hollered Mason. “Let’s go, boys.”

Turned out leaving wasn’t as easy as arriving. All the outlaws were wide awake and ready to defend their camp and their piece of the swamp. Mason, Beau and Tiny had to shoot their way back to the boat.

Beau took a shot to the shoulder and Mason got himself grazed on the neck right behind his ear. It stung like hell and put him in a foul mood.

They jumped into the boat and Tiny took the tiller while Mason shot every fuckin outlaw who tried to step on the dock. The noise of the shotgun was fuckin deafening and cleared a congregation of alligators off the opposite bank of the river.

Tiny turned the boat around and powered back down the weedy channel to the main river. “That cleared them outlaws out a bit, Swifty. Those fuckers haven’t been culled in a good while. Way past time.”

“The gators will clean them up,” mumbled Mason.

Beau wasn’t saying much. Holding onto his shoulder and hoping he didn’t bleed out before he got back home and got fixed up.

Mason dropped the boys off at their own little settlement and didn’t hang around long. He was in a big hurry to catch up with Tammy before she disappeared on him again.

Paying attention to which way she headed when she left the outlaw camp, Mason figured he could catch her easy enough. He knew the swamp and was familiar with more than a few shortcuts.

Black Wolf Pass. Montana.

It was daylight when Travis opened his eyes and he felt he missed a day somewhere. Didn’t remember going to sleep and it was morning already.

With a quilt pulled up over her clothes, Sunday lay on the bed next to him, watching him.

As soon as he opened his eyes, she hopped off the bed and went to the kitchen. Moments later, she returned with coffee and a bowl of porridge.

“Before I get you sitting up to eat, do you need the bathroom, buddy?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t remember going to sleep.”

“You were right out of your head most of the night. Delirious for hours. Talking about bikers looking to kill your ass.”

“Uh huh. I don’t remember talking at all.”

“Black Breed ring any bells? The Deuce. You talked about him. Bruce and the Deuce. I never heard of those fellas, but they seemed to bother you a lot.”

“They’re dead.”

Sunday smiled. “Good thing. They don’t want to be ruffling your feathers.” She helped Travis sit up and then supported him while he hobbled to the bathroom and back to bed.

“I’ll make you a crutch today so you can get around a little better.”

“You’ve done enough already, Sunday. You don’t have to stay here and fuss over me.”

“Somebody has to, and I don’t see anybody else knocking on the door. Eat your porridge. You’re weak as a strangled kitten, all that blood you lost thanks to the wolves.”

Travis took a bite of the almost cold porridge and made a face. “Did you feed the dogs?”

“Do they look hungry?”

From the bed he could see all three of them cuddled up on the braided rug in front of the stove. “Nope. They seem happy.”

Sunday glanced at the picture of wild horses Uncle Carson had hung over the bed. “Your cabin is a lot nicer than mine.”

“Did you buy yours already built?”

“Nope. My husband built it for us to live off the grid. He felt it was something he wanted to do and I didn’t care, so I went along with it.”

Travis listened to her story.

“When the cabin was finished, we moved up here from northern Nevada. We’d been up here a couple of days when he goes out hunting for meat and a bear kills him. That was the end of us.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Travis.

“Yeah, I was sorry too. I loved him.”

Travis didn’t know what to say.

“His name was Ted, so I caught the bear that killed him, tamed him and called him Ted . Kind of a payback.” Sunday laughed.

“Jesus, that’s a story. Doesn’t the bear want to go back to the wild and be with the other bears?”

“Nope. He stays with me. Used to me feeding him.”

“He got lazy,” said Travis.

“Guess he did. Never thought about it that way.”

“As soon as I can drive, I’ve got to go down the mountain and get stitches in my leg.”

“Won’t be for a while. Roads are all closed.”

“How do you know that?”

“Game warden told me when he came by.”

“When was that? How could I miss him?”

“You were out of your tree. He took a look at you and didn’t think you’d make it through the night.”

“Huh. I didn’t realize I missed so much.”

“You got a wife?”

“Sort of. Got two boys and a runaway girl. Adopted all of them.”

Sunday cast him a glance. “Never pictured you for a dad. More like a lone rider on your Harley. Like that.”

“Used to be like that. But I adopted me some boys out of juvie detention, and they turned out great. Best kids a man could have.”

“They be coming up here looking for you soon.”

Travis nodded. “Yeah, they will be.”

“Got names? Your boys.”

“Harlan is eighteen and Virgil is sixteen. They’re brothers.”

“I always wanted me some kids,” said Sunday.

“You’re still young,” said Travis. “You’ve got time to have a dozen kids before you’re done.”

Sunday laughed.

Sheriff’s Office. Coyote Creek. Montana.

“Arraignment day, boys,” said Billy. “Two women per squad. Let’s get them to the courthouse on time.”

“Copy that, boss. Working on it now.”

Me and Virge were bringing Brenda Paige out of the building and were about to put her in the back of the Bronco when her lunatic husband, Jerry, jumped out of his pickup and ran towards us with a gun in his hand.

“No way I’m putting up with a convict for a wife, Brenda. You’ve shamed me enough already with your goddamned picketing at my favorite strip club.”

“I warned you not to go to see the strippers, Jerry.”

Bang.

Brenda fell into the snow that covered the entire parking lot and I ran to help her and see if she was hurt or fuckin dead.

Virge took off after Jerry and caught him before he got to his pickup. Virgie cracked that fucker across the head with the butt of his Sig and knocked him down into a snowbank.

Ted rushed over to help Virge and between the two of them they got cuffs on Jerry Paige, and dragged his ass inside the station and locked him up.

“Good job, Virgie,” said Billy. “I’ll wait for Doc Olsen for Brenda. You take your women and drop them off at the courthouse. I think they’ll all make bail. If they don’t the clerk will call me.”

“Copy, boss. Taking the women.”

Louisiana Bayou.

Mason chased Tammy all the way to Shiner’s up near Thibodaux. He docked his boat, tied up, then went inside the restaurant and grabbed her out of the chair she was sitting in.

She hollered a bit, but it didn’t bother him. He hauled her contrary ass to the cabin he’d rented and tied her up inside.

“You sit there, girl, until I get my neck fixed up. All your fault I got shot. I ain’t gonna hurt you. Your mama wants you home and I aim to get you there, so you can pull in your horns and settle down.”

Tammy stared at him with one of those blank looks crazy people are good at.

Mason figured Tammy’s head was all but empty after living with the outlaws for as long as she did.

He strolled down the road to the house of a friend and got first aid on his burning neck. After he was bandaged up, they had a few beers and Mason eased up a bit on wanting to kill Tammy Traynor for being such a contrary bitch.

Gears and Gas Truck Stop. Birmingham. Alabama.

Ardal and Casey stopped at every truck stop along the interstate and had not a bit of luck. They trooped in and out of dozens of them until they finally hit on the right one.

One of the servers at Gears and Gas remembered a super cute guy who was hurt pretty bad, and the other guy with him was dark-haired and kinda quiet.

“He was hurt bad enough that he could barely sit up straight in the booth. Know what I’m talking? Kind of tippy over to the one side.”

Casey nodded his head. “He was gut shot. Stomach wound not healed.”

“Yeah, like that.” She made a face and wrinkled up her freckled nose. “I waited their table and heard the dark-haired guy talking about writing songs.”

“Huh,” said Casey. “A songwriter is driving the truck, Ardal. Think they might be heading for Nashville?”

“Worth a shot, I guess. We’re on the road to Nashville, and we’ve got nothing else.”

They ordered coffee and pie from the girl and left her a big tip. Back in the truck, they phoned the Agency and asked Lily for credit card activity on any of Bobby Prescott’s cards.

None.

“He’s paying cash, Ardal.”

“Where’s he getting the money?”

“Good question.”

Bare Bones Deals. Nashville. Tennessee.

Bobby and Ray drove into Nashville to sell the Freightliner and remove the last link the cops had to Bobby Prescott.

It took a couple of hours of intense negotiations. Give and take on both sides until the buyer, Jacky Jones of Bare Bones Deals, got close to the price Bobby had in mind.

Bobby Prescott knew exactly how much his baby was worth and sentimentally, it was worth a lot more to him than its monetary value on the current market.

Ray sat silently, watching and listening, until Bobby and Jacky boy came to terms. The paperwork had to be done after that and the final step placed the cash in Bobby’s hand.

Bobby shook hands with Jacky and they both seemed happy with the price they’d agreed on for the Freightliner.

Freddie’s New and Used. Nashville.

As they waited out front for a cab, Ray said, “That’s more money than I ever seen in my life, Bobby.”

“You know how many months I paid double payments on her, Ray? A helluva lot of them. Now we got money to live on for at least a couple of years.” He laughed. “I guess it was like putting money in the bank.”

“Not sure what that feels like,” said Ray. “Never had me a bank account.”

The taxi took them to a used car lot about a mile down the road from the big rig lot. They walked around a bit looking at what was available and after narrowing it down, Bobby selected a Ford pickup, dark green in color.

“We’ll take this one. You agree, Ray?”

“Yep. Best on the lot. You got a good eye.”

In the office, the deal was written up and Bobby put the truck in Ray’s name.

Ray was proud Bobby trusted him enough to do that, but Bobby had no reservations about Ray. Ray was the most honest person he’d ever met.

That’s exactly the way Ray’s songs sounded too. Honest. Real honest stories of life and hard times.

J.T. Paint and Body. Nashville.

Next stop was the place Ray had found out about from one of the guys at the trailer park. J.T. was reported to be the best ID guy in Tennessee, and he was right there close to them in Nashville.

J.T. didn’t take walk-ins. If you didn’t have a referral and know the code word passed along from a friend or former customer, J.T. wouldn’t give you the time of day.

Ray and Bobby walked into the body shop and passed two mechanics busy working. They pushed through to the office in the rear of the building looking for J.T. Turnbull.

Sitting behind his scratched metal desk, J.T. looked to Bobby like a retired biker. Long straggly hair and a lot of tats. Big stinking cigar in his mouth.

Nobody who thought he was somebody.

“What can I do for you fellas? Need a paint job or body work I can help y’all with?”

Bobby said, “I’d like you to help me with another problem I have, sir. A problem up in Winnipeg, Manitoba.”

“Uh huh. I can help with that problem, if y’all are willing to pay the price.”

“I can manage it,” said Bobby. “Heard from a friend what your fee was.”

After using the code words, they were in. J.T. got up and closed the office door and locked it. Sat back down in his ratty swivel chair, put the cigar in the ashtray and got down to business.

Without bothering to do any haggling about the price, Bobby coughed up the money in cash. J.T. counted the bills and stuffed them in his metal lockbox with a grin.

A couple of hours later, Bobby Prescott walked out of the body shop with a new identity. Ray didn’t need a new identity because nobody had ever heard of the old one.

Brentwood Trailer Park. Tennessee.

After a great day in Nashville, Ray parked the pickup beside the trailer and carried in a case of beer.

They drank a few, relaxed out on their back patio, and by the time the case was half gone, Ray had written a new song.

“Listen to this, Bobby.”

Ray sang his new ballad about living life on the down-low and when he finished, Bobby clapped for him.

“That’s a damned good song, Ray. You might be singing that one for Song of the Year at the CMAs.”

Ray grinned and toasted Bobby with his can of Bud.

Shiner’s. Louisiana Bayou.

Mason ate dinner alone in the restaurant and was grateful for a few minutes away from his prisoner. The girl could be a handful.

He brought a sandwich back to her in the cabin. He untied one of her hands so she could eat, and when she finished her sandwich, he gave her a bottle of water.

After taking her to the bathroom and back, Mason put her in the top bunk and tied her to the bedframe, so she didn’t have much leeway while she slept.

Before trying to get some much-needed sleep himself, Mason walked around outside the cabin until he found a spot with service. When he had bars, he called his client.

“Mason, I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

“As it turned out, Mrs. Powell, it was not an easy task, but I do have Tammy now.”

“Is she hurt?”

“Doesn’t appear to be.” Mason laughed. “Hard to hold onto, that’s for sure.”

“Would you be open to bringing her as far as the Texas line, Mason? I can meet you there and take her off your hands. All I need is about four hours’ notice to drive from east of Austin.”

“Okay. That suits me, ma’am. I’ll strike off from here in the morning. I’m still on the river, but I’ll call ahead and let you know in plenty of time.”

“Wonderful job, Mason. I appreciate the effort it must have taken on your part.”

“Yes, ma’am. There was that.” Mason’s hand went to the bandage on his neck.