Prodigal

Chapter 13

13

JJ hadn’t slept well.

She put on a jacket and stepped into her hiking boots. Then she took her coffee and Trooper, whose snoring, stretched-out bulk was one of the reasons she hadn’t slept well, out to the front porch. Where she could see what was coming. She had a buzzing in her veins, like a lion watching over its pride and anticipating trouble.

JJ wandered down the driveway, still carrying her coffee, Trooper at her side. With most of the leaves off the trees, there was a spot partway down the drive where JJ could see into the Nicholson yard, all the way up to their front steps. From here, everything looked normal. Both cars were still in their driveway, as if this were just another day.

JJ wondered how early the next search would go out. Should she join in, or was her time better spent… doing what? JJ wished she knew. She wished so much that she knew how to bring that little girl home. Ask anyone, and they’d say JJ was one of the more rational, grounded people you’d find around these parts. And yet she found herself thinking things that didn’t make rational sense. Things like, Adam is the key. Now, what the hell was that supposed to mean? The key to what?

Some movement next door caught JJ’s eye. Probably Otto.

No—there was a man next door, but it wasn’t Otto.

JJ startled, spilling hot coffee on her hand, the coldness of her skin magnifying the burn. Was that Adam? Stepped straight from her thoughts to the Nicholsons’ driveway. What the hell is he doing here? She walked toward the edge of the small wood that buffered the properties for a better look.

Adam staggered up the Nicholson drive in fits and starts, like a kid who’s been beaten in a race but doesn’t want to walk at the end, no matter how worn out he is. He knocked on the door and bent over, gasping for breath while he waited for someone to answer.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this.

“Stay, Trooper. Guard the house.”

JJ set her mug on the ground and picked her way deliberately through the gray forest, careful of the hidden branches and pitfalls in the ankle-to-shin-deep blanket of dead leaves. It was hard to keep an eye on Adam while navigating the tricky footing, but JJ watched as he backed up, almost to the metal railing, to allow the screen door to swing open. He hesitated on the slab porch as Dorothy exited the house. Then Adam bolted, off the porch, into the yard and around back of the house.

Shit.

JJ took off running, pumping her arms, high-stepping in her loosely laced boots and hoping for the best. All she could hear was the pounding of her feet and her heart, and a roaring in her ears. Twenty yards, fifteen… and then the low brush got thick on the Nicholsons’ side of the woods. JJ slowed and stuck her arms straight out in front of her to parry the blows. A stray branch slipped by and stung her face like a switch, right below her eye, but she kept running.

The roaring in JJ’s ears grew even louder as she finally burst through the brush into the Nicholson yard. She ran around the corner of the house, toward the structures in the back. There was a chicken coop opposite an empty pigpen with a small covered area, and a barn beyond.

And there was Adam, trotting toward the barn.

JJ ran past Dorothy, who looked lost on her own property. On past squawking chickens, flapping next to their enclosure entry, the door levered shut with a baseball bat on the outside.

Otto emerged from the barn, looking almost as lost as Dorothy.

Adam stopped, a few yards away from the missing girl’s father, short of breath. He raised a hand and pointed at Otto.

“Where is she?” Adam yelled. “What have you done to her?”

Otto tensed, bending his knees slightly, and then his arms. But he didn’t speak. Neither did JJ. She just stood panting, with no idea what to say.

“She begged you not to hurt her. What the hell did you do?” Adam demanded.

Adam screamed, a primal sound from deep in his belly, and ran forward, launching himself at Otto. The two men landed on the ground together, flailing, but within moments Otto was on top of Adam, pounding his fists into the smaller man’s body. At least Adam had the sense to cover his own face. Dorothy shrieked next to JJ.

“Goddammit, Dorothy! Why don’t you do something useful?” JJ said, grabbing the woman’s arm. “Like keep your husband from killing Adam!”

Dorothy kept shrieking, so JJ joined her, yelling, “Stop, Otto! Leave him alone! Otto!”

She didn’t know it, but JJ’s loud protests galvanized Trooper into action. The canine raced through the woods to meet her as JJ jumped on Otto’s back, arms over his shoulders and legs wrapped around his torso. She could have been an insect for all the impact she made on the man. JJ slid her arms down Otto’s as far as his biceps, but he easily flexed his arms free of hers. With nothing to hold onto but legs still locked around him, JJ fell backwards, jamming her wrist on the ground. She dug the knuckles of her other hand into Otto’s kidney, and he flung an elbow haphazardly, narrowly missing her nose.

Sonuvabitch! JJ pushed off someone’s leg (Otto’s? Adam’s?) and clenched her abs to get upright again. She quickly reached around Otto’s neck with one arm, then wrapped the other arm around and tucked her hand behind Otto’s head.

“Otto, if you don’t let Adam go I will choke you out, just like my daddy taught me,” she said in the man’s ear. “I swear to God I will.”

He dipped his chin toward his chest, forcing it between her arm and his throat to block her chokehold. JJ twisted and climbed, trying to get a better angle on Otto, but he was mid-swing, and her weight took them over. Otto fell sideways, off Adam and onto the damp ground, landing hard on JJ’s arm and shoulder. Otto and JJ grunted, and JJ gasped for air.

“Get off him!” Dorothy yelled, baseball bat clutched awkwardly in her hands.

JJ had no idea what Dorothy intended to do. Smack her in the head? Beat on Adam some more? He wasn’t even moving.

Dorothy glanced over her shoulder toward the house, as though she’d heard something, and then turned left toward the brush. Her eyes grew wide. Leg pinned beneath Otto, JJ raised herself on one elbow in time to see Trooper appear from the woods. Panting slightly, the dog circled around behind the JJ-Otto-Adam pile and lowered his head at Otto. His tail was held high. He and Otto locked eyes, and a low rumble radiated from the dog’s chest.

“Easy, Trooper,” JJ said. “Sit.”

The dog shifted his hips, back and forth, back and forth, before slowly dropping his rear to the ground. His head and shoulders still leaned forward, and his body quivered.

“Dorothy,” Otto said, eyes never leaving the dog, “Put the bat down. I want you to go in the house—”

JJ thought that seemed sensible.

“—And bring me the rifle from the bedroom.”

“The f**k you will!” JJ told the back of Otto’s head, but she didn’t move, not wanting to trigger the dog and uncertain if she could control him, as angry as she was. “Trooper, stay.”

“This is my property,” Otto said, squeezing the words through his back teeth. “Dorothy, get the gun.”

JJ glanced toward Dorothy as she dropped the bat, and noticed movement beyond the woman. Two uniformed men approached from the house at a good clip—Grant and Luther Beck. Relieved, JJ began untangling herself from Otto. She freed her legs and stood on shaking knees as Adam began to stir.

“Why’d you tie up your daughter?” Adam mumbled, and rolled onto his side.

Otto flinched, then froze, still on his knees. Mouth slightly open, his eyes stared ahead at the dark, wet ground that had left a smear on his cheek and marked his clothes. Finally, he blinked and turned, shoulders tensed, slowly toward Adam.

He’s going to kill Adam.

Voices echoed through the air—Grant and Luther, now nearly upon them—but she was so scared and angry, JJ couldn’t make out their words. Otto knee-walked awkwardly to Adam and grabbed the front of his jacket with both hands, lifting Adam from the ground.

“No!” JJ screamed, kicking at Otto.

She’d aimed for his ribs, but connected a glancing blow closer to his hips. Her unlaced boot tumbled awkwardly from her foot on the follow-through and landed a few yards away.

Otto ignored both the strike and Adam clawing at the hands in his shirt, so JJ pulled the boot from her other foot. Drawing back her arm, she swung at Otto’s head—

And Luther grabbed her from behind, lifting her feet from the ground. The boot brushed Otto’s shoulder and fell from her hands.

“Calm down, JJ!”

Her socked feet kicked in all directions, but the deputy maintained his firm hold. JJ shrieked with frustration, and suddenly Trooper was moving, closing the short distance between him and the two humans in a slow stalk.

Luther dropped JJ to the ground and kept one hand around her torso while extending the other toward the dog. “Easy, now. Just take it easy.” He pulled JJ closer and spoke in her ear. “JJ, now’d be a good time to call off Cujo.”

She took a shallow breath—Luther was still holding her too tightly—and tried to make her voice sound calm. “Trooper, sit. Sit.”

The second time was the charm, and as the dog complied she felt Luther’s heavy exhale of relief next to her ear. He released his grip and, hands on her thighs, JJ took a moment to catch her breath.

Dorothy had stopped screaming. Adam remained on the ground, knees lifted but not quite sitting. Grant stood next to him, acting as a buffer while Otto paced in a half-circle around Adam, taking care not to trip over the baseball bat on the ground.

“Otto,” Grant asked, voice even, “where do you want me to be: hanging around your house, breaking up fights, or out there looking for your daughter?”

Otto stopped in front of Grant and glared down at the Sheriff.

“Okay, good. Me, too,” Grant said, as if Otto had spoken.

“He started it!” Dorothy protested, pointing down at Adam.

Grant glanced over his shoulder at the woman, nodding. “Dorothy, I was wondering if you’d be so kind as to go inside and rustle up some coffee.”

Dorothy looked at her husband uncertainly.

“It’s all right,” Otto said, barely out of breath. “Go on, and we’ll be in directly.”

Dorothy headed back to the house and the men waited, silent, until she was out of earshot.

“Y’all want to tell me what’s going on here?” Grant asked, facing Otto.

Luther gave JJ a little nudge with his shoulder, and she nearly elbowed him in the gut for his trouble. But she didn’t speak, and neither did anyone else.

Grant sighed and took a step back from Otto, creating enough space to keep an eye on the man while staring down everyone else. “Fine. We’ll just have Adam wait in the car while we sort this out.”

Adam sat, hunched forward, hugging his upright knees with one arm. He held his other shaking hand alongside his skull without touching it, or his swollen cheek. His mouth looked a little worse for wear on the same side.

“Sheriff,” he said, his voice strained with pain, “I might need a little help with that.”

Otto lunged suddenly, grabbing the baseball bat from the ground, and charged at Adam. Grant quickly moved in front of Otto, colliding with Otto’s massive chest. The impact knocked both men back a step. Grant squared his stance, and Otto pointed the bat past him at Adam. “If you ever set foot on my property again, I’ll kill you.”

“Otto, this is a tough time for you, but you still can’t be making threats like that in front of the law. You know that,” Grant said.

Otto inched closer to Grant, so close he could have counted the whiskers the Sheriff had missed shaving that morning. “That sonuvabitch accused me of kidnapping my own daughter. So let me tell you, Sheriff—it’s a promise, not a threat.”

Grant held his ground, and JJ held her breath, staring at Otto’s battered knuckles, pale from squeezing the bat. Her breath caught when Otto’s grip shifted, and at the same moment, she felt Luther moving behind her.

Crack!

JJ flinched at the sound as the baseball bat hit a fence post. After flinging the bat away, Otto stepped around Grant and followed his wife to the house.

Grant closed his eyes, then took a deep breath and let it out, before turning his attention to Luther. “Go with him. I’d hate like hell for Otto to come back out here with a gun and kill us all.”

Luther removed his hand from his holster.

“No s**t,” he said, and followed.