Stillborn Armadillos (John Lee Quarrels Book 1) (19 page)

Chapter 37

It didn't take all night long, but it took most of it. While paramedics flushed Lorraine's eyes to wash away the pepper spray, then attended to Dave Atterbury and John Lee's injuries, Flag gave D.W. a rundown of the night's events, from Obie's first report of shots fired to deputies responding en masse, believing another sniper attack was taking place, and to John Lee apprehending the boys as they attempted to flee. Donnie Ray Mayhew was called in to take statements from the dispatcher and everyone else who had witnessed Lorraine Matthews' attacks on John Lee and Dave Atterbury.

When he had heard it all, D.W. said, "This is 'bout the biggest mess ever." He was already trying to figure out how he was going to put a spin on this to make his department look good. "I'm just glad you didn't shoot those boys, John Lee."

"Believe me! I'm glad, too."

"Maybe you shoulda'," Flag said. "Might give folks 'round here the message that you don't play games with the sheriff's department."

D.W. ignored him, but once again John Lee wondered how the news media and the general public would react to statements like that. His father-in-law might not be the image of the southern lawman in any good sense of the term, but Fig certainly was in every bad sense.

"So what do we do now?"

"What do we do? I'll tell you what we do," Flag said, leaning over to use the antique brass spittoon next to the sheriff's desk. "We lock those two little bastards up for disturbin' the peace and vandalism, and trespassin' on school property, and anythin' else we can think of. And then we lock up that crazy ass woman for attackin' John Lee and that other fella. That's what we do!"

"No."

"What?" Flag turned to John Lee in surprise and asked again, "What did you say?"

"No, I don't want the woman locked up."

"Why the hell not? Have you looked in the mirror and seen your face?"

As a matter of fact, John Lee had, and it wasn't a pretty sight. His bottom lip was split and swollen, and Lorraine Matthews had carved four deep furrows in his cheek with her fingernails.   But he stood his ground. "I imagine if I just found out that my son just came that close to getting shot, I'd go a little crazy, too."

"Bullshit. What if she'd a had a gun and started shootin'?"

"But she didn't have a gun, Fig."

"That ain't the point! We can't let people go around attackin' deputies and just forget about it and say it's okay because they're upset about somethin' and fly off the handle."

"Look, this is a big enough mess as it is. Let's not make it any worse. I know both boys. They're just typical kids. Yeah, they pulled a stupid stunt, but when you think about it, it is kind of funny."

"Funny? What in the hell is funny 'bout it?"

"Think about it," John Lee said. "We all know what a slacker Obie is. I'd bet money he was probably sound asleep in his patrol car when those firecrackers went off. It's the most action he's seen in at least ten years. I can just imagine him scared shitless thinking World War III landed right on the roof of his patrol car."

Bob Patterson chuckled, and even D.W. grinned in spite of himself.

"That is funny, John Lee," Bob said. "Obie's always complaining about how rough the job is and how he hates working the swing or night shifts. For the next twenty years he'll be telling the story about the big shootout he was in at the grade school. He'll ride the story so long he'll never have to buy a cup of coffee in this town again."

"How about this? Let's keep the boys in a cell overnight to teach them a lesson. Then we can charge them with disturbing the peace or something," John Lee said. "As for the mother, like I said, if I was in..."

"No!" Flag shouted. "We're not lettin' her walk out of here like nothin' happened! What kind of message does that send to the public? That whenever you get upset you can attack a deputy and it's okay because you're havin' a bad day?"

"All I'm saying is..."

"No, Flag's right," D.W. said. "I think I know where you're comin' from, John Lee. But you got no reason to feel guilty for what happened out there. Or almost happened. If anythin', be glad you had the levelheadedness not to shoot. But that don't change the fact that there ain't no excuse for that woman attacking you like that. I want her charged with assault on a police officer. From what I'm hearin' so far, she's not willin' to take any kind of responsibility for what her boy did."

"That's a felony conviction, D.W."

"Time it gets to court, she'll plead it down to simple assault or somethin' like that and pay a fine and maybe get some community service. It could be worse. It could be a lot worse."

Thinking back to how he had aimed his AR-15 at what he had believed to be the sniper who had killed Ray Ray Watkins and shot at two other police cars, John Lee nodded in agreement. D.W. was right, it could have been a lot worse.

***

Night was fading into day when John Lee pulled into his driveway. Every bone and joint in his body ached, the scratches on his face were throbbing, and he was so tired that it took all he could do to pick up the AR-15 and walk into the house. He didn't even have the energy to stop and pet Magic along the way.

He hung his gun belt on the hook in the bedroom, started to the spare room to put the rifle in his gun safe, then said, "The hell with it." He leaned the rifle in the corner of his bedroom and laid across the bed, still wearing his boots, Levi's, and the dark blue Sheriff's Department T-shirt  he had been wearing when the dispatcher called to tell him about shots being fired at the grade school.

Magic whined with concern, unaccustomed to his master acting this way. Then, instead of going to the padded dog bed in a corner of the living room where he usually slept, the big German Shepherd laid down on the floor beside John Lee's bed and guarded him while the exhausted man snored.

***

Two very remorseful boys were lead into D.W.'s office the next afternoon, heads down and shoulders slumped.

"How'd ya'll like your night in jail, boys?"

They shook their heads, and Dave Atterbury said, "Stephen, look at the man and talk."

"We didn't like it very much at all, sir."

"No, sir, we didn't," Herbie Matthews added.

"Do you boys know how close ya' come to gettin' yourselves killed?"

"We're sorry," Stephen said. "It was pretty dumb, what we did."

"What you boys don't understand is that when you do somethin' like that, it sets off a whole chain reaction," D.W. told them. "What's that they call it, John Lee? A chain of unintended circumstances? See, that's what happened. Y'all thought it'd be funny to throw those firecrackers at Deputy Long, but because you did that, over a dozen deputies who were off duty came a runnin' 'cause they thought somebody was shootin' for real. Now, you boys think about somethin'. Over a dozen deputies drivin' real fast through the community thinkin' someone was shooting at Deputy Long. What if one of them would'a got in an accident and killed somebody or killed themselves drivin' at a high rate of speed like that? How would ya' feel knowin' you were responsible for that?"

"Not very good at all. We never thought about something like that happening," Stephen said.

"Nope, ya' didn't think at all. But that ain't the only thing. What if Deputy Quarrels here would've shot you? Put yourself in his place. He's out there in the dark and he thinks someone's been shootin' at another deputy, and then y'all come runnin' at him like that? I'll tell ya' right now boys, if it had been me you'd both be layin' in the morgue with tags on your toes right now. No question 'bout that. Think about that for a minute. Think about your families and what that'd do to them. Think about Deputy Quarrels. Think about what he'd have to go through know'in he killed two kids because they was bein' stupid."

There were tears in both boys' eyes by now, but D.W. wasn't through with them yet. "You know those unintended consequences I talked about? I want you to look at Deputy Quarrels' face. You see those big deep scratches? You see how his lip is all puffed up like that? Stephen, look at your father. See how he's got a big fat lip, too? Herbie, do you know why your dad's here, but not your mom?"

"No, sir," Herbie mumbled.

"Speak up," his father said to him.

"No, sir. I guess 'cause she's really mad at me."

"No. Your mom is in jail, son."

Herbie looked at the sheriff, his eyes huge. "My mom's in jail?"

"That's right. When she heard that Deputy Quarrels almost shot you two fools, she went off on him. She done that to him. Clawed his face open and hit him in the mouth. Hit Mr. Atterbury here, too, when he tried to pull her off'a him."

"My mom did that?"

"That's right. She's goin' to see the judge in just a little bit. Assault on a police officer is a felony in this state, boy. Your mama could go to prison for ten years."

"No. No, it's all my fault! It was all my idea, I talked Stephen into it. He didn't even want to do it in the first place. Please don't put my mom in prison! I'll do anything. You can lock me up forever, but don't send my mom to prison."

"I'm afraid it ain't that simple," D.W. told the crying boy. "What's done is done. Now it's up to the judge and the court."

"I don't want my mom to go to prison." Herbie was crying so hard he was shaking. His father put an arm around his shoulder to try to comfort him.

D.W. gave the boy a moment to calm down, then said, "I could send you both to reform school for 90 days. That's what they call prison for juveniles here in Florida. Trust me, it ain't no vacation. But here's what I'm goin' to do. I want both of you to apologize to Deputy Long in person when he comes back on duty, since he's off now, recoverin' from the scare you put in him and almost having a heart attack. And I want you both to apologize to Deputy Quarrels here. And I want you both to write me a 500 word essay. No, make that 750 words. About how you realize how dumb what you did was. And then I'm going to want each of you to give me twenty hours of community service. I don't know that's goin' to be yet. Pickin' up trash alongside the highway or washin' patrol cars or somethin'. I guarantee you, it's probably less'n the judge would give ya' and you ain't goin' to wind up with this on your records. If you do that and you keep your noses clean, we're gonna forget all this. But," and with that the sheriff pointed a stern finger at them, "if you so much as jay walk or sass your parents, or anythin' at all, you're gone. Do ya' understand me?"

"Yes, sir," Stephen said. "I'm sorry for what we did, Sheriff, I really am." He turned to John Lee and said, "I'm sorry. Thank you for not shooting us, John Lee."

John Lee shook his hand and said, "That's okay, Stephen. You mind what the sheriff said, and the next time you think you want to do something funny, think about those unintended consequences he told you about."

"I will," Stephen promised.

Herbie was still crying as he apologized, but John Lee believed he was sincere as well.

When the boys left with their fathers and Stephen's mother, D.W. shook his head. "I hope I got through to them."

"Oh, I think you did," John Lee said.

"How's the face?"

"Hurts like hell."

"Yeah, you ain't as pretty as ya' used to be. What time's the mother's arraignment?"

"Three o'clock."

"I wonder if a night in jail did anything to help her attitude?"

"I guess we'll find that out soon, won't we?"

Chapter 38

As it turned out, the time she spent behind bars had only served to increase Lorraine Matthews' rage. When Maddy brought the handcuffed woman into the courtroom she looked at John Lee with unveiled hatred in her eyes.

Seeing his mother, Herbie had rushed forward to throw his arms around her. Ignoring protocol, Maddy stepped back to give them a moment before the clerk called the court to order.

The prosecutor read the charges against her, attorney Toby Bardo stood up and announced that he would be representing the defendant, and the judge asked if she was ready to enter a plea at that time.

"Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty."

"I'd like to hear it from her," the judge said.

"I can't believe you're trying to charge me with a crime when my child is the victim here," Lorraine said. "That maniac almost killed my son!" She pointed an accusing finger at John Lee.

"Ma'am, this hearing is about the charges against you, not about what happened at the school. Now, do you plead guilty or not guilty?"

"I'm not pleading anything! I didn't do anything. You all are just trying to protect this psycho cop of yours by shifting all the blame to me!"

"Mrs. Matthews, you can tell your story when it comes to trial. Now what's it going to be? If you want to plead guilty we can adjudicate things right now, or if you plead not guilty you can be released on bail and there will be a trial where you can tell your side of things."

"I'm not saying a word! This is nothing but a kangaroo court."

Judge Harrison Taylor had been on the bench for over 20 years and had earned a much deserved reputation for fairness and honesty. But he was not a man to challenge in open court.

"Mr. Bardo, please control your client."

"Nobody controls me!"

"You're wrong about that, Mrs. Matthews. You're in
my
courtroom and
I
control everything and everybody in here. Deputy Westfall, please take the prisoner back to her cell. We'll recess until 9 AM tomorrow morning. Maybe by then you'll be able to control yourself, Mrs. Matthews. But I warn you right now, if you come back into my courtroom with the same attitude tomorrow morning, I will hold you in contempt and you'll spend more time behind bars. Do we understand each other?"

"No! No, please don't lock my mom up anymore! It's all my fault, judge. Me and Stephen Atterbury, we did something really stupid and we know it. My mom was just mad and scared and stuff." Herbie was crying and his father had to restrain him from rushing to his mother's side.

Judge Taylor looked at the boy for a moment, then closed his eyes, listening to him sob. When he opened them again he said, "Mrs. Matthews, I'm giving you one more chance. Look at your son, there. You've both had a rough night and I think he needs his mother home with him. And that's where I'd like to see you go right now. But I need a plea from you to do that. Otherwise, my hands are tied. Deputy Quarrels has already told me he holds no animosity toward you and would like to see this put to rest without any more difficulty for any of the parties involved. If you plead guilty we can put this all behind us right now, or you choose to plead not guilty and I'll set a trial date. And for the sake of your son I'll release you on your own recognizance right now without any bail required. So what's it going to be?"

Lorraine shook her head stubbornly, refusing to reply.

"My client pleads not guilty, Your Honor."

"I want to hear it from her," the judge said evenly.

She held her head high and glared at him but refused to speak.

"Jesus Christ, Lorraine, quit being so god damn stubborn and answer, will you?"

She jerked her head towards her husband and hissed, "If you were more of a man, you'd have been the one kicking that prick's ass, not me, and I wouldn't be standing here. But no, I had to do your job. So don't you dare tell me what to do!"

"That's it," the judge said, rapping his gavel. "Deputy Westfall, take her back to her cell. And keep her there until this time tomorrow."

"No, please don't do that to my mom," Herbie begged.

As Maddy led the defiant woman out of the courtroom, the judge looked at the boy with sympathetic eyes and said, "I'm sorry, son, but I'm not the one doing it to your mom. She's doing it to herself."  

***

"If I ever get that stupid and stubborn, promise me you'll shoot me," Maddy said an hour later as they sat across from each other in the bullpen. "I mean, it's not like Judge Taylor didn't give her plenty of opportunities to avoid going back to jail."

"Some people are just too dumb for their own good," John Lee replied.

"Your face looks terrible."

"Okay. Your ass looks too big in that uniform."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, I thought we were trading insults."

Maddy gave him a haughty look and said, "I was showing concern for your injuries. And by the way, my ass looks just fine, in or out of uniform."

"Mea culpa. I think that's Latin for 'oops, my bad.'"

Andy Stringer came in and sat down at the table. "Did you hear the latest?"

"No, what's up?"

"Obie put in for sick leave. Said he's still having chest pains even though the ER over in Perry checked him out and said he's fine."

"Why am I not surprised? I wonder how long he'll ride that train?"

"Just as long as he can," Maddy said. "You know Obie, if there's a way to get out of work
and
get paid at the same time, he's going to milk it for all it's worth."

"I know what those boys done was stupid and all that," Andy said, "but I've got to tell you, it was funnier'n hell, too!"

They all laughed, picturing Obie huddling terrified in his car as the boys threw firecrackers onto the roof. Their fellow deputy had shirked his duty and made others carry the load for him too many times for anybody to have much sympathy for what he had gone through.

Andy studied John Lee's face and said, "That woman sure messed you up, son."

"It only hurts when I breathe."

"You making any progress on those skeletons yet?"

John Lee told them what he knew, and how he suspected the victims had come from one of the turpentine camps, but had no way to prove it at that point.

"Did you talk to anybody at Somerton? Maybe they have some old records or something."

"I talked to Troy yesterday. He said that big tornado that came through here back in the 60s destroyed a building where they had their old company records stored."

"How did that go?"

"What? Seeing Troy?"

"Yeah. Didn't you guys have some history back a long time ago?"

"We ran around together when we were kids," John Lee said.

"Okay. I was thinking there was a hassle about some girl or something. One of you stole the other one's girlfriend or something."

"Oh, those boys tried to pollinate anything within reach," Maddy said. "My brother was part of that rat pack."

"Yeah, we had us some fun back in the day," John Lee agreed. "What can I say? Life happens and sometimes people just drift apart. Troy did invite me to go fishing with him. Said he's been riding the desk pretty much all the time since his daddy semi-retired."

"So are you at a dead end in the investigation?"

"I don't know," John Lee said. "I was thinking about talking to some of the old timers around here to see if any of them can tell me anything about those days."

"Donald Perry."

"Who?"

"Donald Perry."

"Mister Donald? The janitor from when we were in high school?"

"Yep."

"Is he even still alive?"

"Yes, he is," Andy said. "He'll be a 95 years old on Thanksgiving. And he still gets around just as spry as if he was in his 60s."

"You're kidding me?"

"Nope. You know where Anderson Farms Road crosses Copperhead Creek?"

"Yeah."

"That's where you'll find him," Andy said. "He's down there most every evening, fishing off the bridge there. I just stopped and talked to him the other day. That old gentleman knows just about everything that went on around here back in the old days. And he's still sharp as a tack. You ought to look him up."

"Thanks for the tip, Andy. I'll sure do that."

"I always liked Mister Donald," Maddy said. "Tell him I said hello."

"I will," John Lee assured her.

He set off for Copperhead Creek, eager to talk to somebody who might help him take the investigation of the skeletons to the next level.