Chapter 11: The DOJ Comes to Gatehouse

Keith Boyd-
Fred Boyd his brother.
Alice Boyd his sister in law.
Nephew John 15
Niece Gabby 13
Jo Anne Wall old girl friend
Windy Wall her ex husband.
Lewis and Ellie Keith’s in laws.
Sarah Marsh retro hippie
General Briggs rd
Doris owner of the consignment shop.
Jo Anne Joyner Wall : Keith’s first girlfriend. Three girls 16 13 10

oldest daughter ginger
Mr Jessup buyer of Keith’s scooter.
Rebecca Avondale deacon and keith’s client.
Marsha stylist to Rebecca
Gulfcrest hotel/casino
Elanor, Mark and Simon family being stalked
Sylvia Amos sheriff’s detective.
Willow goth chick. Computer nerd
Abdi arab family victim of arson.
Ginger Moss Willow’s mother
Mr Serpico client in motel.
Liam Amos hunter.
Jasper Amos Liam’s son
Jerry Geyser first separated man to stay in cabin/tent.
Lou Anne Mason justice dept
Jill one of the federal cops.

“So how do the witnesses get here?” I asked Lou Anne.

“That is none of your business,” she said.

“I’m going to let you get away with that, but it really is my business. I am going to trust you, until you prove to me I can’t trust you. When that happens, I will close the place and tear up our very loose agreement,” I said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, since your place will be blown, if the ever happens,” Lou Anne stated.

“You do have a point,” I admitted.

When Lou Anne turned to leave the Gatehouse Hondo Growled softly. She didn’t even acknowledge him. She just slipped into the car and was gone. I though that she came pretty close to looking like a TV cop. All the TV cops were fit and wore make up. In real life the cops tended to be less than perfect in one way or another. Most had at least one glaring imperfection. I couldn’t spot a major imperfection in Lou Anne.

After she had gone I found that she was a very forgettable woman. Maybe that was a good thing for a fed. Definite not for a TV cop though.

Nothing much happened for a few days. I checked my bank account and found a grand in it. I was definitely flush. The money was burning a hole in my pocket figuratively. I just had nothing I wanted to buy. I mean I liked my life style just as it was.

Well I did buy a hundred bucks worth of fishing gear. I bought a couple of spinning rods, and some line. Then I bought a tackle box along with some fancy lures.

Soon after Lou Anne left, I carried the Kayak to the closet spot where I could launch into the Yazoo river. I had planned to try out the fishing gear so I did. I floated around on the river for three hours and caught absolutely nothing. I really didn’t care.

When I gave up and called Deacon, I was in the Kayak floating toward a power dam. “So Deacon you caught fish every day you were here. So what the fuck is your secret?” I asked.

“You have to be kidding. You were born in Mississippi and don’t know how to fish,” he said with a huge laugh.

“Are you doing to help me or not?” I asked.

“The first thing is you use your rod for catching bait fish. The ones you want are about the size of your hand. It don’t matter what kind they are since you are going to cut them into pieces about the size of a hush puppy. You got that?”

“What do I use for bait fish, bait nothing I have is working,” I said.

“Pillsbury canned biscuits, you don’t cook them. They are for dough balls. Roll them with some pieces of a cotton ball. Then cover the ball with pepper. Bait a small hook with that and then fish near the entrance of a creek.”

“Okay but what do I do with the cut bait?” I asked.

“That you are going to turn in to catfish bait. Go to the hardware store for some mason cord and cut it into pieces long enough to reach from a bush branch into the water. Tie a big fish hook on one end and tie the other to a limb,” he said. “Let me know how you do.”

The easiest thing was to see if I could catch the bait fish using the dough balls. The dough balls were Deacon’s recipe so I had my doubts. After a trip to the grocery store I mixed up a batch for the next day. Since it was still cool in the mornings, I hung around the house until close to noon.

I went out to spend the afternoon fishing for fish bait. I wouldn’t have believed it if someone else had told me, but the small fish did bite the dough balls. Once again the Deacon came through. I maneuvered the Kayak trailer down the county roads until I got home.

When I cleared the green buffer that the county required around my campground, I saw the new forty foot trailer sitting on the trailer spot furthermost from the front buffer space. It was a totally nondescript beige travel trailer with brown trim. It was like one you might see on any RC center in the country. I didn’t even check on the trailer. There was no need to check everything about the hookup was self explanatory.

Then I hadn’t taken the fact that these were feds I was dealing with into consideration. A guy in a coat and tie came to my gate. I was in the Circus Tent putting the Kayak away. I was also preparing to cut bait, so his bell ringing was an intrusion.

“Yes?” I asked.

“We are your new occupant at the Hunt Club,” he said.

“So what’s your problem?” I asked.

“We need the utilities hooked up. I was also hoping you could tell me where I could get groceries,” he said.

“Okay, I’ll be right over,” I replied. I went inside to wash my hands which smelled like fish. What the hell it was part of the ambiance, I thought. Still I didn’t want to make a bad first impression. I hooked the water hose to the trailer, then I plugged our twenty amp circuit into the trailer’s input.

“I’ll come by to take away your composting material in about a week,” I explained. “Have you used the toilet yet?”

“No, I just got here,” he said.

I opened the door covering the dump tank. I opened the tank and dumped some bacteria into the tank. “That will make the waste easier to manage,” I explained.

I walked back across to my place where I went directly to the Circus Tent to finish cutting bait. Just as soon as I finished, I stepped into the shower. It made a big difference in how I felt, to be clean. Since I was home at five anyway, I fixed an early dinner. Usually my meal schedules were more flexible. Cooking dinner at 10PM was not unusual for me. Hondo had become used to eating at erratic times as well. The only meal he got on a reasonable fixed time was breakfast. He and I ate when I awoke, which was usually between seven and eight in the morning.

After my dinner of left over Mac & Cheese with a small can of tuna and garlic toast, I moved to the computer. I was checking on the next day’s weather when I heard the female voice shout. “Hello in the house,” it said.

I had already removed my leg for the evening, so I got my single crutch and opened the door. There standing in my drive was what I had come to expect a female cop to look like. Bad hair, a body shaped more like a molasses jug than and hour glass. She was dressed in a sweat suit. She was exactly what I would expect an off duty cop to look like.

“What can I do for you?” I asked young woman who had the body of a forty year old at least.

“Where is the closest place to get a bag of ice?” she asked.

“Try driving south on the county road for three or four miles. You will see a Zingo station, they have ice,” I said.

“I’m Jill she said trying to be nice,” I thought.

“Okay Jill, good luck,” I said. “On finding the ice.”

I returned to my computer search. I found Lou Anne Mason’s card and called her at home. The call went to voice mail. ‘Lou Anne you need to do something about the coming and going at the campground ... Keith.’

“Our witness isn’t there yet,” she said on the phone twenty minutes later.

“That’s fine but they will compromise the hunt club. People who use the hunt club tend to remain at their trailer not run out to dinner, then out for a bag of ice. But you do what you want,” I explained.

“Did the agents there rent a cabin yet?” she asked.

“Not yet why?” I asked.

“They should talk to you tomorrow about moving someone into a cabin. There will be a government witness and two agents on her protection detail,” Lou Anne explained.

Since I go to bed later and wake up often in the night, I notice things. Like a car’s head lights turn onto the farm road at four in the morning. I expected that I would have a new neighbor when I awoke. I decided to get the shotgun from under the bed. I find that being prepared is always a good idea. I leaned the shotgun by the door just in case.

When I awoke the next morning, I looked out the window over the sink. Since it was the one facing in the general direction of the campground, I thought maybe I might see someone out walking around. There was no one, so I began my morning routine. First I showered, then I made coffee with water I had put on to boil before my morning shower.

With the coffee in my hand I began thinking about Hondo’s breakfast. I was still feeding him the fancy dog food as part of his breakfast, but the protein powder was gone. I doubt that he missed it much. It didn’t appear to be his favorite. I left him outside while I had my breakfast, so that I cold eat in peace. I hated the questioning look he gave me whenever I ate in front of him.

I put on the blade runner leg before I dressed for the day. I wore shorts since it was supposed to be sunny and almost warm during the day. Well a little later in the day it should be.

When I went outside I hooked up the trailer then rolled off to attach the limb hooks to bushes along the Yazoo river. Since I had invested so much time in the project, I could only hope that I catch some fish. If not, I would just consider it a failed attempt at a distraction. I had a lot of those during the last two years. Of course I also had some fun mixed in. The fun times were in the minority at the moment.

It was ten when I arrived back at the farm road. When I got home I didn’t see Hondo. I sure as hell hoped he hadn’t decided to leave because of the new people hanging around.

I went into the Gatehouse and fixed a glass of instant tea. I rolled the trailer with the Kayak on it into the Circus Tent just in case it rained. Since Hondo hadn’t showed up, I decided to take a look around for him.

I walked across the farm road to check the hunt club area. When I got there the first thing I saw was Hondo sitting with a young girl. She was tossing Cheetos to him.

“I see you found the way to his heart,” I said.

Before she could answer the chubby female cop came out to check on her. At least she didn’t come out with guns blazing. “Mr Boyd, what can we do for you?” she asked.

“Just looking for Hondo. He seems to have made a new friend,” I said.

“Do you want to take him home?” she asked.

“No, he will come home when he is ready,” I said.

“By the way are you going to be home the rest of the day?”

“I think so why?” I asked.

“I just like to have a handle on the assets on hand,” She said.

“I’m really not an asset. I might come to help in case of a fire fight, but I’m not to be counted on. If you need a man outside? You need to bring in an agent.” I said. We had moved far enough away and were speaking low enough so that the little girl couldn’t hear.

“Right,” she said. “You have been vetted so you can walk around your campground without having us shoot you.”

“If you ever shoot at me, you better not miss,” I said.

“I never miss,” she said.

“Good to know,” I said.

The night pasted uneventfully. I did my morning things which included fixing a bowl of food for Hondo. “I see you found your way home last night.” Hondo had wandered off after diner the night before. I figure he had gone in search of Cheetos. Since he didn’t answer, I gave up on the Q & A.

I did sit outside drinking coffee for about an hour. Again nothing happened. I saw the chubby cop drive off and come back with a bag from McDonald’s. It wasn’t a good idea to do that, but what the hell it was better than ordering delivery. I guessed she wasn’t a very good cook.

I didn’t feel at all bad an hour later when I went to check my limb hooks. I had to hook up the trailer to my scooter. I also had to check over everything. I tried to do a check every time I rode the scooter. It was also what I advised my customers.

After ran all my checklist checks, I rode off. Thinking I was good to go. I got about a mile from the house and the hub motor started to make a grinding noise. Since I had a spare three wheeled scooter with a pusher motor, I went pack to switch the trailer. Everything was different about it but the exchange were off without a hitch.

I rode the scooter with the pusher trailer off to the Yazoo river access ramp. It was 2PM when I left the Yazoo ramp with four large catfish. By large I mean they were in the three to four pound range. When I arrived home at 2:30PM I cleaned and fileted them. I had eight filets, so I froze the fillets from three of them. I had catfish and wild pork in the freezer. I made a fire on my gas cooker in the yard. I fried the fillets after sprinkling them with salt and pepper. It was the first time I ever cooked fish, so I had no idea what went into the breading. Worse yet, I had no idea where to look for the stuff I needed. I wanted a good old fashion recipe, so I went to the net.

The only things the recipe called for which I had on hand was the salt and pepper. The first of the fillets were destined to be crap, I thought. Nonetheless I soldiered on, with the grill hot I put them on. I remembered the fried corn break cakes my mother used to cook with the catfish my dad brought home. I almost cried because I didn’t have mom around to coach me.