Chapter 26

And all the Merry Little Breezes danced away across the Green Meadows to the swamp where the bulrushes grow to see the new speckled egg in the dear little nest where Mrs. Redwing was singing for joy. And while she sang the Merry Little Breezes danced among the bulrushes, for they knew, and Mrs. Redwing knew, that some day out of that pretty new speckled egg would come a wee baby Redwing.

DENNIS FINISHED READING the story of “Mrs. Redwing’s Speckled Egg” and closed the book. Peg, snuggled up next to him, clapped her hands. The girls seated on the floor around them clapped their hands, too.

“That was such a sweet story,” Judith said. “What is that book? We never had a story like that.”

“Mom said her mother read these stories to her when she was little,” Dennis answered. “She thinks maybe her mother had it as a child. It’s Old Mother West Wind by Thornton Burgess.”

“My book,” Peg said proudly.

“We’ve read it about ten times,” Dennis laughed. “But I don’t mind. They are mostly pretty sweet stories.”

“You’re such a nice big brother. Peg, thank you for letting us be your sisters tonight,” Natalie said.

“Now,” Dennis said to Peg, “we’re all going to brush our teeth just as if we were going to bed. But then we’re going to turn out the lights and whisper to each other until way late at night. Won’t that be fun?”

“I can stay up late!” Peg said. She jumped up to go brush her teeth and kiss her parents goodnight. After she’d passed, Will slipped out of the hall and into the kitchen. He wanted to kiss his son goodnight, too, but it wouldn’t be right in front of all his girlfriends. He loved those kids. That made this even more important.

He left through the kitchen door into the garage. He laid the gun on the seat beside him and drove out.

Will took Amy’s warning to heart. He’d not gone anywhere without the gun near at hand. It was in the glove box when they went to the game this afternoon. He didn’t expect anything during the day, but you never knew. He’d carefully set himself up as a target, hoping to lure the Smith boy out where he could finish this. It was risky, but he wasn’t going to back down now. He thought the family would be safe since they were all home together. It would take some seriously stupid criminals to attempt to take his son and his girlfriend out of their house with the entire basketball team there.

He stopped at the grocery store and bought a sandwich and a cup of coffee. It was coming up on ten o’clock and he needed to make his pickup as if he didn’t suspect a thing. The coffee was bitter, but it just matched his mood. He drove out to the pickup point about five miles out of town.

Only when he pulled up beside the box did he realize this exchange could be the very place Lee was planning to attack him. He gripped the pistol in his hand and cycled a shell into the chamber. He pulled up as close to the metal box as he could get, opened the door, and stayed low with the gun in a death grip. For an instant he wondered how long ago it had been since he last fired it. Out on the farm, so it was at least eight years. He was sure he could still hit something as large as a man. He lifted the lid of the iron box, deposited his $20 and pulled out the bottle. He slipped back into the car and threw it into reverse before he even got the door fully closed. He hit the road, breathing deeply in relief that he’d survived the exchange. Now it was time for him to set his own ambush.

He drove to his favorite waiting spot to watch for Lee to come past. This time, though, he left the car running and the parking lights on. It was a long-shot, but with luck Lee would decide to attack him here and Will could get him where a gunshot wouldn’t be heard.

Now he just sat and waited.

Will absently opened the bottle and poured a shot into the remains of his coffee. He hadn’t intended to drink any of it until this was over, but a little would settle him down and steady his hand. He put the bottle on the dash and held the gun in his lap while he drank his laced coffee. And he waited.

Something seemed strange. He thought he saw Lee coming toward the car, but his eyes were blurry. He shook his head and tried for another sip of his coffee, but it was empty. It had just been a tree limb blowing and not Lee Smith. He grabbed the bottle and tipped it for just another sip. This might be the most powerful batch old man Smith had made. He saw the lights pull in off the road, but was sure it was just the reflection of his own lights. There couldn’t be anyone there. He just felt so out of it. Maybe he should just go home and try this some other night. He didn’t want to go through his house drunk with all those teen girls in it, though. That wouldn’t be proper.

And something was scratching at his window. He didn’t realize the wind was so strong tonight but he felt it blast across him when the door was opened. A figment of his imagination leaned into the car.

“Come on and finish the bottle,” Lee said. “You should be dead by now.” He took the bottle out of Will’s hand and held it to his lips. Will felt the burning liquid in his mouth and his eyes opened in a moment of clarity, but he couldn’t move his hands. As he swallowed the fiery liquid, he somehow squeezed the trigger of the gun in his lap. The blast shocked the bottle away from his lips and Will passed out.

Brisco had his team positioned. State Police were standing back, ready to arrest the sheriff at his signal. If the gang happened to snatch the two kids, the two Fibbies were ready to step in. The raid, though, was the province of the DEA. They were there to capture the three thugs at the store, but had the connection to their Chicago contact established. When he signaled, a team in Chicago would sweep in on their stronghold as he arrested their courier. It was complicated to coordinate the actions of the four units. The ATF had bowed out, saying the operation to raid the still was too small for them to bother with. The State Police said they’d gladly go in to raid the still. Its very existence was a violation of state law and they were ready to act with search warrants and arrest warrants based on Brisco’s information. It could take them until morning to find the operation in the woods, but they had a location and could find it eventually.

The moment finally arrived. The blue van had long since been ditched and this one was black, but the punk sitting outside the store had stood immediately when the van pulled in behind the back door. From his position, Brisco could see Agent Reg duck-walking behind the van to get in close. The big guy approached the driver’s window. The driver showed him the delivery and then a heated exchange followed. Brisco was almost close enough to understand and hoped that Reg, working behind the van, could hear. There was something about the big guy not having the merchandise.

They seemed to reach an understanding and the guard went to knock on the back door. He was pretty good at concealing the weapon he held tight to his body, but from his angle, Brisco could see it clearly. He drew his own sidearm and released the safety. This could get hairy. The other kid—the one with the money—came out of the store and approached the van. As soon as the exchange was made, Brisco raised his bullhorn.

“This is the Drug Enforcement Agency. You are under arrest. We have you surrounded. Lay down your weapons and put your hands on the wall. You in the van...” That was all he got out. The guard thug started firing wildly toward his voice. Brisco came out from his cover to return fire just as Reg fired and hit Harry in the chest. The big man dropped to his knees, trying to raise his gun as Brisco fired a second shot into his body. A third shot rang out as the van was thrown into reverse and the engine raced. It didn’t move, thanks to the boot Reg had attached to the right rear wheel during the negotiations.

The guy making the exchange crumpled beside the van. When it didn’t move, the driver piled out of the van as the passenger door opened. The driver sprayed fire in Brisco’s general direction, but Brisco’s third agent, Thomas, stationed at the road, brought him down with a single shot to the head.

Brisco couldn’t see the action on the other side of the van. No shots had been fired. He stayed low as he moved in closer, first checking to be sure Harry was down and couldn’t get to his gun. There was no sign of life. He moved on to Jerry as his agent from the street moved in to check on the downed driver.

“Reg, you clear?” He shouted.

“Clear,” was the return shout. “One in cuffs.”

Brisco turned Jerry over with his gun held at the youth’s head. He looked to be unarmed, but the driver had apparently shot him in the scuffle. He was bleeding from a stomach wound.

“Help me,” Jerry whispered. Just at that moment emergency lights came on as three state troopers surrounded the sheriff’s car in front of the C-Store.

“Medic!” Brisco yelled into his lapel mike. The ambulance he had waiting around the corner drove through the Johnsons’ yard and up beside the van. The EMT and the paramedic jumped out and rushed to the downed man. Brisco went around the van to find his partner Reg patting down the van passenger who was face down on the ground with his hands cuffed behind him.

“Brisco! You need to be here in back.” Agent Thomas called from behind the van. He was standing next to the FBI agent, ready to open the van doors. They agreed to their strategy. Thomas would be on the passenger side to reach across and throw the door open. The FBI agent would be on the other side, ready to open the driver side rear door. In the meantime, Reg would guard the side door on the passenger side. At Brisco’s signal, all three moved to open their doors as Brisco stood partially sheltered behind a dumpster where he could see inside.