Dirty South Drug Wars (37 page)

The plan was set in motion.

We’d discussed it at length. Bryce and Brodie were to stash their cars in the woods, one near the highway off-ramp and one on the opposite end of the road where our family’s construction business was located. At the off chance of any sign of our uncles, the boys were to call or text Tanner’s phone in warning.

Tanner tried to convince me to stay behind, but that was not happening. My father had been murdered as well, and I had as much right to search for evidence as Tanner had. He eventually caved, after lots of begging and persuading on my part.

One favor that Josie had called in from a friend and we were off.

We left the driveway in the dead of night in the borrowed
8 Mile
car. As soon as the bald tires hit the bridge separating our two towns, my stomach began to roll. I stared down over the railing, searching for the muddy waters, but my search was in vain. Even the brightness of the moon was snubbed out by the inky black night. All that lay below that old bridge was a blank void of nothingness. It gave me chills deep down to my very
bones
.

Monroe Construction wasn’t just an office downtown. No, it was a warehouse in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a chain link fence with barbed wire roped across the top of it. We parked half a mile down the road, nudging the car into an old off-road that adjoined the property. The road was practically grown over with thick weeds, and the branches hanging overhead provided a good canopy to hide under. Tanner cut the engine, and we were met with nothing but the stillness of the night.

He shot me a twisting grin before popping open the glove box and tossing a black ski mask my way. I rolled my eyes at his exuberance as the two of us pulled the masks on in sync. After that he called Bryce and then Brodie, confirming their location and our safety. He ended the call within seconds, put it on silent, and slipped it in the back pocket of his jeans. We exchanged one breathless kiss before the two of us pulled on our gloves and slipped from the old car.

Tanner was in his element. Through the opening in his mask I saw his mischievous grin. Was this how it was for him all the time, when he went out for hours on end, doing whatever it was he did to come home with a wad of cash? Did he thrive on the thrill of it all? Did he live for the moment, for the chase, for the chance of being caught?

My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of the warehouse looming ahead. The building was massive, made of blue and grey metal. Just inside the fence, the large, ghastly machinery sat scattered about the property in eerie silence, as opposed to their normal clang and clamor.

We broke free from the woods and approached the property, our hands dropping from one another. My skin felt clammy and alone under my glove without the comfort of Tanner’s hand clasped so tightly in mine, and I shivered at the loss. I wrapped my arms around my torso and peered around the property, cringing at the sound of rocks crunching beneath my sneakers as our feet hit gravel.

A thick chain and a heavy lock hung from the gate. Tanner slipped the keys Olivia gave us from his pocket and slid one in, turning it this way and that until a satisfying click sounded out, silencing the crickets and frogs that had begun their encore once we emerged from the woods.

Tanner gave the gate a good push, and it creaked open. He made a grand sweeping gesture with his hands. Groaning at his strangely good mood, I shoved past him onto the property, listening for the sound of guard dogs. There were none, however, and it didn’t surprise me. Amos and the good ole boys were cocky. Their half-assed attempt at securing the premises was predictable. They’d gotten away with so many things over the years, so why start worrying now?

Once we entered, Tanner situated the chain and lock back in place, making it appear as though the lock had never been disturbed. A shiver ran through me, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. Although he didn’t snap the lock into place, I still felt confined, trapped. There was no means of escape other than through that front gate. I began second-guessing our plans, but Tanner eased my troubled mind.

“Bryce and Brodie are on opposite ends of the road,” he reminded as we approached the warehouse. “If anyone comes down either end they’ll call. My phone is on vibrate. Stop thinking so much about getting caught. Focus on finding the evidence, hard evidence we need to prove once and for all that they murdered our fathers.”

“It’d be easier if we just murdered them … or made them disappear like all the others.”

“People don’t disappear.” Tanner twisted a key into the lock on the door and grinned once the door stood wide open. “They die. I’ve told you time and time again, when bodies start piling up, people get suspicious.”

“You didn’t tell me what happened after Ray left,” I whispered as we entered the warehouse, blinking once Tanner shut the door behind us and turned on a dim flashlight. “You never explained Davis either. But I know he’s dead. That was his body in my sister’s casket.”

Tanner’s eyes clouded over in the soft light. “I’ve told you over and over. Why can’t you comprehend what’s happened?”

“What? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled. “I’ll explain it later. There’s no time for discussion. We have to find the filing cabinets, look for the evidence, and get the hell out of here.”

I nodded, leading him through the warehouse to Amos’ office. I pointed to the door once we arrived, crossing my arms over my chest and tapping my foot while he tried key after key, pressing each one into the lock without luck. Finally, down to the last key, the door popped open. The two of us exchanged grins behind our masks before moving stealthily into the office, closing the door behind us.

A long row of black metal filing cabinets rested against the far wall, beyond Amos’ desk. The beam from the flashlight bounced to lock after lock on each cabinet.

“This is where things get tricky,” Tanner whispered, pulling some sort of small tool with a red handle from his jeans.

“Tricky?” I mimicked. “What’s tha—hey!”

Tanner ignored me as he used the tool to snap a lock in half. “What?” He pulled the lock from the cabinet and tossed it to the ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I squeaked as he pulled the drawer out.

“Olivia couldn’t get the filing cabinet keys. How did you think we were getting in?”

“They’ll know we were here!”

“No, they’ll know
someone
was here.” He removed file after file from the drawer and tossed them onto Amos’ desk. “How about you stop talking and start helping?”

“Fine,” I grumbled, snatching a few files of my own from the drawer.

Then I plopped my happy ass down in my uncle’s comfy leather chair and read each file name. Tanner had chosen the drawer with the “M” files, and I wondered if he chose that for Tanner Sr. or for my father.

There was no time to ponder, and I wasn’t sure if I really wanted the answer to my inner question anyway. I thumbed through each file in vain, as did he, finding nothing about Jeb or Tanner Senior.

“Damn it.” He stacked the files together and slid them back in the drawer. “What now? Go through them all?”

“If we have to,” I replied, standing and opening another drawer after he popped the lock.

The second drawer contained more “M” files. Again we thumbed through each file, finding nothing but construction contracts and other legal forms that had nothing to do with either one of our fathers’ deaths.

I let out a heavy sigh and lifted my eyes to meet Tanner’s. I wondered if my own looked as forlorn and despondent as his. I reached out, grasping his hand and opening my mouth to give him some sort of words of comfort, but the words froze in my mouth at the sound of his cell vibrating in his pocket.

Tanner jumped at the unexpected interruption. He pulled himself together quickly enough then slid the phone from his pocket.

“Go,” he barked, shoving the phone in his pocket and pulling me to my feet. “Now!”

“What about the files?” I gestured to the mess of paperwork scattered about.

“Forget the files. Amos just pulled off the highway. He’ll be pulling up in ten minutes. Let’s go.” He practically shoved me from the room.

We fled the building into the darkness of night. The moon hanging overhead did wonders for lighting our path, and it was a good thing too, because somewhere between Amos’ office and the gate, the flashlight fell, smashing open and spilling the batteries onto the ground. Tanner never looked back, tugging me behind him by my shirt as we approached the gate.

He easily opened it and we darted through, ducking into the woods, leaving the gate wide open behind us. I didn’t know how he knew the path to the car, but he did.

I registered the sound of Amos’ old truck racing along with my heart as it chugged down the dusty back road. We made it to the car just as headlights in the distance beamed through the branches and leaves. We both fell to the ground, landing on the bracken and soft earth.

“How did he …” I began.

“I don’t know.” Tanner helped me up as the truck sped by without faltering. “We have to crank it up quick and get the hell out of Dodge before he parks.”

Tanner opened the car door for me but didn’t wait for me to enter, choosing instead to practically shove me inside. He quickly joined me and turned on the engine. Thankfully, it turned over on the first attempt. He backed out onto the road so swiftly my head jerked. He spun around and stomped it, sending me screaming. We spun down the road with no headlights on, balling like the Dukes of Hazzard.

Tanner flipped on the headlights, muttering to himself when only one flickered on. The glow of the moonlight shining down on the road wasn’t enough to lead us away from Amos, whose truck chugged and sputtered along the road. The beams from the pickup truck twisted in the darkness as he swung around in the parking lot of his business, turning in the same direction we faced as we pulled onto the road. The roar of an engine blasted through the air, louder than the sound of our old borrowed car that groaned and sputtered as Tanner willed it forward.

My ears were pounding. My heart thumped erratically against my chest, sending blood rushing through my veins. The exhilaration, the
thrill
of it all threw me into a Tanner-like element. He met my nervous and excited grin, smile for exhilarated smile.

Tanner stomped on the gas, leaving nothing but suffocating exhaust in our wake. He floored it across the heat-cracked pavement. Noticing a side road ahead, he slowed down, making sure not to slam on the brakes and leave tire tracks in our wake.

No bouncing of headlights shone in the rearview mirror. Somehow we’d left Amos far behind. Determination flowed from Tanner and through me. He turned down the back road, creeping so as to not turn up dust behind us. I was unsure how much time we had on our hands, or of the distance that lay between us and Amos, but his turtle-crawling made me anxious, made me want to burst open the windows and race through the woods.

He nosed the car down the road. We disappeared into the darkness with nothing but one working headlight illuminating our path. The road was submerged in the thick backwoods. The branches of the trees overhead reached out, clinging together, their kudzu- and wisteria-laden limbs forming a tunnel of darkness that we descended into.

The sound of my haggard breath broke the silence. The darkness became infiltrated with flashing lights up ahead, the red and blue shock of colors flowing through the trees and brush in a deliberate rhythm, faint but still clearly there.

Tanner slammed on the brakes, no longer concerned with the tires turning up dust. My body jerked forward, my head saved from smashing through the windshield by the safety belt I’d snapped on.

With my bottom lip quivering, I sat on the ripped, stained passenger seat, staring through the smeared front windshield at the lights ahead. The faintest of colors were quickly brightening the longer we sat. Tanner reached for my cell and dialed a number. In the silence of the car, I heard Graham’s smooth voice. As the droning of Graham’s voicemail played in Tanner’s ear, Tanner relayed what he expected me to do.

“Run,” Tanner said, pressing his thumb against the warped metal that locked my seatbelt in place. “When you hit the woods, don’t look back. Got it? Don’t look back, Rue. No matter what you hear.”

My mouth parted, ready to argue. That was when I noticed the fear in his eyes. Fear wasn’t in his vocabulary. Fear wasn’t an option. Still, it was there, blinding and obvious. Then, in the blink of an eye, he covered the expression with stony determination.

Tanner opened the glove box and dug around inside before removing two items. The glove box stood ajar, the inside light burned out, but still I saw what lay hidden under mounds of napkins, junk mail, and old candy wrappers: a small blue flashlight and a 9mm pistol.

After shoving them both into my hand, he pointed in the direction of the sky. “Run north and don’t stop until you hit the highway. Do you see that star? Follow it. That star will take you north, to the highway.”

“Polaris.”

“If it gets cloudy use your flashlight to—”

“Look for the moss growing on the trees.” I swallowed and nodded as I dropped my eyes to the flashlight in my hands. “The moss always grows facing north. I know how to escape the woods. My father taught me.”