“It tells me if I want to see my deputy again upright and breathing, I need to be the one to bring him in. Call off your dogs and let me do this.”
“Are you sure?” Holly pointed over the sheriff’s shoulder. That’s when Clayton noticed Kate wasn’t holding on to his arm anymore. She was already crossing back under the yellow caution tape. He watched her work her way through the crowd, and a few seconds later she was gone.
Clayton scratched at his beard and spit on the asphalt. “I’ll drive.”
CHAPTER
23
CLAYTON BURROUGHS
2015
“Are you sure you’re up for this, Clayton? I can have my people here within the hour. Full tactical squad—pros. They’ll do everything possible to take this idiot kid alive. You have my word.”
Clayton responded by mashing the gas pedal down, and hammered the Bronco farther up the dirt mountain road. “You can’t promise me that, Simon. I know you got good intentions, but your people won’t see Choctaw as an idiot kid caught up in a bad situation. They’ll only see a target. I’m not going to let someone else up here die if I can help it. Not today. Give me your phone.”
“Huh?”
“Your phone. You carry one, don’t you?”
“Yeah, okay.” Holly dug into his pants pocket, pulled out a silver flip phone, and handed it to Clayton. “Here,” he said. “Hit send after you dial.”
Clayton took the phone and smirked at Holly. “The hillbilly sheriff knows how to work a cell phone.”
“All right. I’m just saying.”
Clayton didn’t flip open the phone. Instead, he rolled his window completely down and tossed it out into the blurring trees.
“What the fuck, Clayton?”
“I don’t want you calling anyone.”
“And you couldn’t just trust me?”
Clayton slowed the Bronco down and pulled over to the side of the road. “Get out, Simon.”
Holly twisted his face into an expression of surprise. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Get out.”
“I’m not gonna do that, Clayton.”
The sheriff dropped the shifter into neutral and let his foot off the clutch. He put an arm up on the seat and turned to Agent Holly. “Look, the place we’re headed is less than two miles up this road on the left. It’s about a fifteen-minute walk. By the time you get there, I’ll most likely be sitting on the front porch waiting for you, Choctaw sitting beside me, sipping iced tea.”
“I’m not going to let that happen, Sheriff. I can’t even begin to tell you how many protocols I’d be breaking if I did what you’re asking me to do.”
“Something tells me a man like you doesn’t give a rat’s ass about protocols. Besides, you can tell anybody that asks I forced you at gunpoint.”
It was Simon’s turn to smirk. “And you think anyone will believe that?”
“Anyone who knows about me drawing down twice in the past two days will.”
“And what if there’s more than just your deputy waiting up there?”
“Won’t be anyone I don’t know.”
“You know all his ex-military buddies turned hijackers?” Holly saw in the sheriff’s face that he hadn’t thought of that, but Clayton shook his head dismissively.
“If I get there, and it looks like I just stepped in shit, I’ll pull back and wait on you.”
Holly still didn’t move to open his door. He sat with his arms crossed like a stubborn child.
“Look, Simon, this is the only way I know I’ve got an honest shot at not getting this kid killed like his buddy Bankey. I can tell him I came alone, and I won’t be lying. If he thinks a fed is creeping around, it could spook him into doing something stupid. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk. I need you to do this. Goddamn, it’s not like I’m asking for your gun. Just get out and meet me there.”
Holly unclicked his seat belt and popped open the Bronco’s door. Before he was fully out, he turned to Clayton and said, “You know, I’ve been running marathons my whole adult life. I can cover two miles in a lot less than fifteen minutes.”
Clayton tipped his hat. “Well, I best be on my way, then.” He dropped the shifter and punched the hammer down as soon as Holly had both feet on the road, letting the vehicle’s sudden motion slam the door closed. Holly shielded his face from the kick-up of dust and red dirt. When the Bronco was far enough from sight, he brushed the road spray off his dark blue suit, chewed a couple Percocets, and pulled out his cell phone. Not the burner phone he let Clayton throw out the window, but the one he was issued by the United States government. He chewed the pills into paste, punched in a number, and held the slick black smartphone to his ear. As the phone rang, Holly smiled his shark’s smile and began to jog up the road toward Johnson’s Gap.
CHAPTER
24
CLAYTON BURROUGHS
WESTERN RIDGE, JOHNSON’S GAP
2015