A Novel by
Leonard Wise
Author of DIGGSTOWN
8Games
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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CHAPTER ONE
Every morning the ray of hope came through the small windowpane, in between the jail’s bars, and down into the palm of his out-stretched hand. It was the only comforting trace of the outside world he had seen for two years. It took the sun a mere eight minutes to pass through the narrow space between the peanut mill and the second floor of the County Sheriff’s house before disappearing until the following morning. If it was overcast or raining, Conner Anton Landon, better known as “Cal,” would spend the day in shadowy darkness with his thoughts, his longings, and the vision of Lacey McCall's angelic face. It was their love that brought him back to Peach Park, forced him to return to Georgia after he had ripped off the citizenry for over twelve million dollars with a swamp scam.
#####
The Cotton Café, a three-generation family business, was a quaint coffee shop on Main Street that boasted of its fish gumbo, buttered grits, and fresh fruit cobblers. Chunky Antebellum Peach was a favorite dessert of many, but Cal Landon preferred a hot blueberry deep dish with a large scoop of vanilla ice cream. It was the first eating place he had chosen when he arrived in Peach Park two years earlier. That first week, he was having his portion when four young ladies, in their early twenties, entered the café. Not noticing the others, he focused on the silent, serene one with long, lustrous black hair and twinkling blue eyes. The other three all smiled at Cal, having heard that he was a young millionaire businessman who had come to enlarge, improve and beautify their town.
When the four girls approached Cal’s table, the three introduced themselves and began to proclaim how excited everyone was to have him there.
“And who are you?” Cal asked, pointing at the passive one. “She’s Lacey McCall,” Betty Lou, the plain, gangly blonde announced.
“I like the name Lacey.”
She barely glanced at Cal, and then walked away to select a table in another part of the eatery.
When the patriarch of the town, Mr. Tavis Quinn, who was always clean-shaven and immaculately dressed, entered the café, the girls instantly ceased chatting and move quickly away.
“Good day, Mr. Landon,” Tavis said, taking a seat.
“That Lacey McCall is gorgeous. What’s the story with her?”
“She’s very gorgeous and extremely intelligent. However, she just happens to be my son Ronny’s intended.”
“Intended to do what?”
“Eventually marry, of course. They’re both in their third year in state college, so the nuptial has been postponed for a while.”
“Maybe permanently.”
Quinn chuckled and said, “You don’t have a chance with her. Stick to your business. And speaking of that, I’ve received all the necessary papers. Your Mr. Harrington, whose reputation is impeccable, has responded in your favor. Your construction company has been validated, and I’ve noticed that your workers and equipment are starting to arrive. How long do you estimate it will take to drain the land north of the Okefenokee and fill it in so we can start building on it?”
“How long do you estimate it’s going to take you to cough up your share of the money so we can start the work?”
“Did you speak with my accountant?”
“Don’t try to hustle me, Quinn. I’m well aware that you’ve conned your way into owning most of this town. I don’t care how good you think you are, I’m not one to be hustled. I’m strictly business, and you swore to me that you were, too.”
“Mr. Landon, do you doubt me?”
“Yes, I do, and I’ll doubt you until we get the check and it clears. Now, if you’re going to continue to stall, procrastinate, and dawdle, I’ll pack up my men, my equipment and haul ass out of here. It’s up to you.”
“I’m sure you can understand why I had you authenticated. Now that I have, we can begin to advance. I’ll have my accountant draw up the necessary agreement between you and I. Once they’re signed, the check will be forthcoming.”
The check has been forthcoming for over a month now. Would you like to know how much I’m out of pocket bringing those men and equipment here?”
“I did want to question you about your men and equipment. Those two bulldozers are a bit rusty and rather old. And they were rented second-hand.”
“So? They work, I’m responsible for them and I paid for them; you didn’t.”
“And a few of your men appear to be mere boys.”
“They’re college graduates with high-tech engineering degrees; and they can prove it. I’ll bet you anything they’re smarter than ninety-nine percent of the men in this town.”
“I wouldn’t doubt that. Most of the men in this town didn’t even finish high school.”
“Alright, Quinn, I’ll leave it up to you. We’ll just relax and enjoy your southern hospitality and the deep dish pies until you’re through checking on me and are ready to let us get to work.”
During the following two weeks, while Cal waited for Quinn and the accountant to come through, he found himself pursuing Lacy McCall. He learned from one of her friends that she was spending a great deal of her summer vacation doing research at the local library.
“Hi, there,” Cal spoke privately. “It’s Miss McCall, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said softly, so as not to disturb the others.
“May I join you? I have a quick question.”
Lacey hesitated, and then nodded at the chair across from her. Cal sat, and was immediately mesmerized by her face. Her eyes. Her lips. Her presence. When he remained speechless, Lacey asked, “What’s your question?”
“I, ahh, I can’t, I forgot it.”
Lacey chuckled. “Mr. Landon, you’re going to have to be a lot sharper than this if you’re going to out-hustle Tavis Quinn.”
“What makes you think I’m hustling him?”
“You’re not so far, because he hasn’t given you the check. So as of right now, it’s pretty much a stalemate; wouldn’t you say?”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Miss, but I’m not a hustler. I’m strictly a businessman trying to do something constructive for your town.”
“How noble and unselfish of youit would seem.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Whatever turns you on.”
Staring at her, Cal said, “Everybody is absolutely correct about you. You probably are the most intelligent young lady in Peach Park. And maybe even in the entire state of Georgia.”
“If you’re looking for an argument, I suggest you get a different subject.”
“Wow! You frighten me. You do, but not enough to scare me away. Don’t be surprised if we end up getting married someday.”
“I don’t think so. You’re thirty-one and I just turned twenty.”
“But you’re twenty going on forty. However, you’re going to learn something today that will serve you well for the rest of your life. Age, between two people, is relative to how much fun they have. And you and I, Miss McCall, are going to make the world a better place, especially for each other.”
“You sound awfully sure of yourself.”
“No, I’m sure of you. I already admire and adore you, and I’m sure that some day, if you don’t already, you’re going to feel the same way about me.”
When Cal stood to leave, Lacey reminded him that he hadn’t asked his question.
“Let’s see,” he said, pausing while continuing to gaze at her. “What’s your favoriteanimal?”
“That’s not what you were going to ask.”
“Okay, what’s your favorite color?”
“That’s not it either.”
“How do you know so damn much?”
“Because, as you said, I’m probably the most intelligent young lady in Georgia.”
“Yes, you are. And the prettiest, the most charming, by far the sexiest, and the only one who could break my heart. Please, don’t,” Cal said and exited the library.
A few days later he returned to find Lacey studying at the same table. She smiled at him. He didn’t return the gesture, but placed a colorfully wrapped package in front of her.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Open it and see,” he said and walked away.
After quietly opening the box and lifting the contents, Lacey said to herself, “How did he know?”
It was a white stuffed Polar bear, and a note written in lavender, her favorite color. It read: ‘Polar bears are white. Your eyes are blue. I ain’t neva gonna give up wantin’ you. So there.’
During the week, Cal had a dozen yellow roses placed on Lacey’s front porch with a note that read: ‘This is where you live; now where is your heart?’
Two days later he sent her a music box that played Cole Porter’s song, “I Am In Love.”
The following day Lacey drove over to Cal’s motel and suggested they take a drive. The minute he was in her Honda, she told him that she had broken up with Ronny, Tavis Quinn’s son.
“That proves it; you definitely are the most intelligent girl in town.”
When Lacey asked his intentions, Cal’s extensive reply was, “To love you, spoil you, charm and pamper you. Massage you, take walks in the rain, travel to exotic countries, buy you everything you want and need, and to finallywhip your ass if you step out of line.”
“WHAT!?”
Cal was laughing so hard, he was almost unable to stop when Lacey kissed his lips. Gathering her up in his arms, he kissed her again and again all over her exquisite face. That moment began their torrid romance. A week later Cal went to the McCall home for dinner. Her parents were as warm, intelligent and outgoing as Lacey, and Cal said he could see where she got her magnetism as well as he chutzpa.
Taking Cal aside after coffee and dessert, John McCall admitted he didn’t completely trust him, but since Lacey had fallen in love, he would accept it. And then looking straight into Cal’s eyes, he said, “You sound sincere and I want to believe you are, but if you ever hurt my daughterbelieve me you’ll regret it. And needless to say, we’re both originally from the mean streets of New York City. Enough?”
Cal knew exactly what he meant. But he had no intentions of doing anything but loving Lacey.
Another week went by and there was no word from Quinn or his accountant. Cal decided to pull a bluff without discussing it with Tavis. He had some of the equipment removed, and a few of the men, including the two young “engineers.” When a couple of the other townspeople, who had invested with Cal, learned of the removals, they complained in anger to Tavis Quinn. Unable to find out anything sinister about Cal, Quinn finally gave in and had the accountant pay the ten million he had promised.
The very next day there was no sign of Conner Anton Landon. Not that day, nor the next. No one was more furious that Tavis Quinn, or more hurt and chagrinned than Lacey McCall. She absolutely refused to believe he had lied to her and wouldn’t return.
For most of that night she remained awake, and as morning began to break she heard a neighbor’s infant crying to wake the household. Trucks and an occasional car were passing in front of the house and Lacey wasn’t rushing to see who it was, as she had been.
But nowsomeone had stopped. She went to the window. It was a Charlton County police car. It frightened her to see a man she recognized, Sheriff Elroy Pulley, walking up to the porch. She feared it was something about Cal. Going downstairs, she opened the door. She didn’t have to say a word. It was all in Sheriff Pulley’s grinning snarl. “We got ‘im. He musta come back for you, But he ain’t neva gonna see you again. We figgud he’d bring his dumb, stealin’ ass back here. We caught ‘um just down the block a minute ago, heading right for ya. I thought I‘d tell ya. Ha!”
#####
Cal was thrown into a foul-smelling, basement cell with only a steel cot, the narrow window at the top of the back wall, a toilet that ran incessantly, and a rusty sink that dripped, dripped, dripped. The floor of the cinder-block cell had rotting plank boards with every conceivable pismire varmint including water bugs, fleas, and rats, making themselves at home. The minute he was in the cell, Cal began to tend to his wounds. On his transfer to the jail, Sheriff Pulley had taken the liberty to hand-cuff and beat him with a night stick. Afraid of infections, Cal immediately cleansed the open gashes as best he could.
Within the initial hour, Boss Tavis Quinn came to the jail to pay his respects. “Good morning, Mr. Landon. They say the criminal always returns to the scene of the crime. Until now I always assumed that was some inept lawman's fantasy. However, you always were rather predictable.”
“What crime?”
“I see that during your ineffectual flight you haven't lost your sense of humor. You're going to need it if you don't return every dollar of my money.”
“Your money? I won that money fair and square. You just fancy yourself as a better con-man than me. Where is your sense of respect for the art of scamming?”
“I have no intentions of debating this matter with you, Landon. I want the money returned or you'll die down here”
“Is that a prediction, or a threat?”
“Accept it any way your want. However, out of respect, we will cut you up, burn your parts and scatter the ashes on a garbage dump.”
“The money's gone, Tavis. Split up with the men and they've disappeared.”
“Well, I certainly have no intentions of denying you your right to make a phone call. Sheriff Pulley, give this convict his phone call. If he fails to produce any positive results, return him to his cell and place him on a meager ration of bread and water until he decides to make amends. And he’s to have absolutely no visitors.”
Cal said, “I've seen some sore losers in my time, Tavis, but you're out of control.”
Quinn chuckled and replied, “I'm not the one in jail. Losers go to jail. Some even die there”
“People know I'm here, you know?”
“No one who cares. And the few who do, can't do anything about it.”
“What about a blanket?”
Quinn looked past him into the cell. “Sheriff Pulley, give this man a phone call and a single blanket.”
“What about“
“Don't push your luck, Mr. Landon. Good day again.”
Three days later Cal got a surprised visitor; Ronny Quinn, Boss Quinn's son. He was a tall, dark-haired youth who allowed his father to dominate him. Ronny was also in love with Lacey McCall and was dating her until Cal came to town.
When Ronny pulled up a chair to sit on the other side of the bars, Cal said, “What the hell do you want?”
“I know we've never hit it off, but believe it or not I admire you.”
“Why don't you go home to daddy, Ronny? You've lost Lacey for good, so you may as well accept it.”
The statement hurt him, but Ronny frowned and said, “I don't mean this as an insult, but I don't understand why she would prefer you to me.”
“But you don't mean that as an insult?” Cal chuckled.
“Do you really love her?”
“Is there a steer in Texas...?”
“But you don't mind if I go after her?”
“Hey, if she prefers you to me, what can I do? I can't defend myself locked-up in here. But I have to warn you, even with your best approach and rap in private with her, you won't be able to come close to matching the love I've already given her. But take your best shot.”
“I do envy you, and I won't deny I'm jealous of you.”
“It may be hard to believe, considering where I am at this very moment, but a lot of people do.”
“Would you like for me to bring you something?”
“Why are you trying to be so damn nice to me, Ronny?”
“I told you I admire you and you obviously need some help.”
“If you really want to help me, you could always break me out of here. You'd get me out of town, and you’d have Lacey all to yourself.”
“You wouldn't take her with you?
“How could I if you ship me out?”
“Let's forget about that. Can I bring you something?”
“Oh yes. I'd love a triple cheeseburger with lettuce, pickles and a mess of onions, but your father will kick your ass if you do it.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Be my guest.”
“I'll be seeing you.”
“Oh, and maybe a large coke with a couple slices of lemon in it. And French fries, of course. It's a funny thing, but the only time I crave junk food is when I'm incarcerated.”
“Then it must have become your staple diet.” Ronny smiled and nodded as he left the basement.
Long, tall Sheriff Elroy Pulley and his inept, hairy deputy, Dean Mosely, would taunt Cal from time to time with lies about Ronny dating and screwing Lacey. It angered them when Cal acted as if he didn't give a shit. Once or twice they used this as an excuse to enter the cell and bash Cal a few times with their nightsticks.
Lacey's father, John McCall, an ex-Northerner, a Professor of Science, and one of the very few intellectuals in Peach Park, talked his way past Dean Mosely into seeing Cal one afternoon. When Tavis Quinn heard about it, he rushed over to the jail.
“Is there something we can do for you, Mr. Professor?”
“Me? No,” John replied. “But I intend to report this prisoner's conditions to the proper authorities.”
When Sheriff Pulley placed his hand on his gun, Cal said, “You pull that gun, you worthless piece of shit, and you'll die!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Quinn said, “let's keep in mind that we're not savages here, with the possible exception of our very honored guest, Mr. Landon. Tell me, John, just what conditions are you referring to?”
“Sheets on the bed, proper food, stop the beatings, allow Cal to see an attorney, and get him out of this disgusting cell.”
“Or what?” Quinn asked.
“You'll see,” John said and shoved Deputy Mosely out of the way.
John stopped at the steps.
“Sheriff Pulley,” Tavis said, “get this man some sheets and some food. Is there an empty cell upstairs?”
“The cells upstairs are all full-up, or they will be when the trash starts cuttin’ up on Saturday night.”
When John McCall asked about a lawyer, Quinn turned to Cal and said, “It's my conjecture that under the present and awkward circumstances, Mr. Landon would prefer to defend himself. Am I correct, Mr. Landon?”
“Just get me the food and the sheets and keep these dog-faced cocksuckers off my back.”
“I'll cock-suck you!” Pulley shouted.
“Funny, but that was my very next request.”
When Pulley pulled his night stick and started toward Cal, John yelled, “Don't you touch that man ever again!”
Pulley turned to Quinn, who, after a moment, nodded in agreement with John.
“Why isn't he allowed to have visitors?” John asked.
Quinn chuckled while saying, “You've obviously already altered that dictate all by yourself. Don't request too much, John. After all, this man did swindle this town out of a great deal of capital. It's not so long ago he would have been lynched by now.”
“Not with you thinking I still owe you money,” Cal said.
“That's true enough,” Quinn said, frowning at the smell of the basement. “May we please adjourn this assemblage for the time-being?”
John McCall nodded to Cal and went up the steps. Quinn waited for John to leave the building, and then he turned to Cal. “We're going to give you your sheets, but you're still going to be on a decreasing amount of bread and water until you come up with what you owe me.”
“Believe it or not I've been thinking of a way to do just that.”
Smiling, Quinn said, “I had a feeling you would be. And, of course, the sooner the better for all concerned. I would certainly hate to have you expire while in my domain.”
“What a coincidence,” Cal said. “I happen to feel the exact same way.”
“I do believe our thinking is harmonious, Mr. Landon. Good day.”
CHAPTER TWO
There are still many back roads in the State of Georgia, even though modernization has long since spread from one end of the country to the other. Bacon County Pike 7D had only been recently paved with thick tar and ragstone gravel. It was a two lane road that had left civilization far behind and drifted and curled out through the gray green countryside edging the cotton and bean fields while parting the vast land as it made its way from town to distant town.
Coming along Route 7D that brisk, southern morning was a late model Ford pickup truck containing two young men dressed in county road worker coveralls. The driver was chubby, round faced, 22 year old, Peter “Patch” O’Neil, who was Cal Landon's protégé. Sitting next to Patch was his own Asian apprentice, tiny five- foot two, baby-faced Tadashi Yuji Ada, who was a year younger than Patch. These two had been Cal’s so called engineers in Peach Park.
The two, who met while attending computer night classes, both grew up in Atlanta. Yuji in the upper middle class Buckhead neighborhood with religious parents and peers; whereas Patch had spent his adolescent years in the seedy, rowdy world of “Downtown,” where he was raised by his single mother who ran an on going five card-stud card game in her living room, and sold 150 proof White Lightning at an enormous profit.
It was in this lower environment that Patch O’Neil first met Cal Landon. Cal, who had been caught dealing seconds at the poker game, was being threatened by an opposing player with a knife and a gun when the 16 year old, over-weight kid threw his entire bulk on the opponent, knocking him unconscious. So impressed was Cal with Patch’s smarts and skills, that the two had been working together ever since.
“The man, as good as a hustler as he is, evidently feels right at the home in the jug,” Patch was speaking bitterly. “Every chance Cal gets, he's right back in one.”
“Love made him do it,” little Yuji said, approvingly.
“Love, my ass! The man's a glutton.”
“I think it's marvelous. I would have done it for Lacey McCall if she was my girl.”
“Then why in the hell don't you go back down to Peach Park now? You could probably get her.”
“Patch, you don't understand amour. Romance. There's more to life than hustling.”
“That's why you'll never be ready for the big con, Yuji. I told you in Peach Park, and I'll tell you again, you've got to get your dirty little mind off the tits and ass. You have to concentrate on what you're doing at all times. This is serious business. I want you to be on your toes. I have to know I can count on you. Cal I can’t count on because you never know when he’s going to be dragged off to the slammer.”
“But the word is he’s been living pretty good in there,” Yuji stated.
“There's no such thing as living pretty good in stir. If it was, more people would be trying to get in rather than breaking out.”
“I was wondering why he didn't get us to try and break him out.”
“Because Cal has to do things his way regardless of how wrong he is.”
“I heard once Jacky Perkins became a deputy, things got a lot better for Cal.”
#####
Jacky Perkins, a medium sized, 24 year old farm boy with curly, brown hair and a warm smile, became a deputy to Sheriff Pulley in October of Cal's first year in the Charlton County Jail. When Jacky began working there, Sheriff Pulley was watching him closely to see if he intended to help Cal. Arrangements were made by the proper parties to have John McCall arrive at the jail insisting to see Cal again, only to be turned firmly away by Jacky Perkins. Later that week, Jacky did the same thing to Lacey McCall, who ran away crying. It was enough to convince Pulley that his new deputy could be trusted.
Being cautious and discreet, Jacky and Cal managed to slip a few things past the Sheriff. Food for instance. Jacky would bring an extra-large dinner for himself, two-thirds of which was for Cal. Late at night when he was positive it was safe, he would allow Cal to sneak upstairs, lie on the floor behind the desk and make collect phone calls out of the county. But the initial call on the very first night was to Lacey.
“Hi. Did I wake you?”
Lacey was speechless. It had been six terribly long and lonely months since she had heard his voice and it immediately brought joy to her heart and tears to her eyes.
“Is it you?” she barely uttered.
“Who else would call you in the middle of the night from the Charlton County jail just to say I love you.”
“Oh, Cal, Cal, I love you.”
“Would you like to join me here in my cell?”
“Oh, yes, yes.”
Cal was laughing.
“Don't laugh at me, please!”
“I'm not laughing at you, honey. It's just feels so good to hear your voice.”
“Why did you come back?”
“You know why. I thought I could slip back in the middle of the night and kidnap you. Who knew these idiots expected it.”
“When are you getting out?”
“As soon as I can. Will you wait?”
“Oh, forever. I just want to hold you. To feel you. To know you're alive and well...and mine.”
“Wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, I'll be yours. If nothing else in this life, I will always be yours.”
Lacey continued to cry softly now, unable to speak any further.
“I'll call you every chance I get,” Cal said. “I love you, Lacey. I love you with every fiber of my being. Sleep well, my darling.”
#####
“Where in the hell is this place?” Patch O’Neil was saying as he and Yuji Ada continued along the Georgia back road. “What does the map say?”
Yuji unfolded the map and was looking for the Bacon County Route 7D.
“What was that town we just passed?” Yuji asked.
“Rockingham, I think.”
“Good. We've got about ten miles to go.”
“Now, remember what I told you, Yuji, about bigots being“
“Why don't you trust me?”
“I don't trust anybody, that's why I'm always ahead.”
“Cal trusts me,” Yuji announced.
“Yeah, and look where he is half the time.”
“Jail, or no jail,” said Yuji, “he's still the best.”
“You see, that's one of your main problems, Yuji, you think you know so much. When I first picked you up on campus you were still in the puberty years of your education, wet behind the ears and dumping in your drawers. You and Cal make a good pair, not that he needs any help getting busted. He did two and a half years for that phony gold mine deal in Louisianawere there is no gold.”
Yuji started laughing.
“Then he did another eight months for that stupid frog legs fiasco for fried chicken in Alabama.”
“That's a riot,” Yuji said while still laughing. “You have to admit you guys had a lot of fun.”
“I wonder if Cal still thinks so after spending two years in that Peach Park jail.”
“You'd still jump at the chance to work with him.”
“You think I can't make it in this world without Conner Anton Landon?”
“Oh, I'm sure you can, but you'd rather die than do it without him.”
“We'll see,” said Patch.
“You know, the thing that would drive me crazy in jail is to be without a woman.”
“That drives you crazy no matter where you are.”
“I bet that was something when Queenie Devane went to see Cal last Christmas,” Yuji said and sighed.
Patch O’Neil smiled thinking of Queenie. She was the numero uno prostitute in Halo, Georgia, the next town east and down the pike from Peach Park. Whenever they had time off, Patch and Yuji would rush over to the brothel and Patch would have Queenie, and Yuji would have six feet tall and luscious brunette Dolly Vitali. Queenie was a sleek blond, the Madame of the house, tough, smart, and an expert lover.
#####
It took a month, but Ronny Quinn finally delivered that large coke with lemons to Cal along with a triple cheeseburger and French fries. This time when Cal asked why Ronny was being so nice to him, the handsome 20 year old youth said, “I guess in a lot of ways I wish I could be more like you.”
“Lacey loves me, Ronny. And if you were exactly like me, she'd still love me and be mine. I understand you'll be going away to college in a week or two. If I were you I'd concentrate on the books, your baseball scholarship, and finding yourself a girl that you have a chance with, because Lacey McCall is mine and it's going to be a cloud burst in hell when I give her up to you or anyone else. I'm sorry, kid, but that's the way it is.”
“If I help you get out of here, would you leave Peach Park?” Ronny asked directly.
“I would crawl, walk, run, or catch the first thing smoking.”
“Do I have your word on that, that if I get you out of this jail you'll leave Peach Park and never come back.”
“Of course, I wouldbut I would want to take Lacey with me.”
“What makes you so sure she'll go?”
“Did Eve go with Adam out of the garden of Eden? Did Cleopatra follow Julius Caesar to Rome? Did Bonnie die with Clyde?”
“Like I said before, no one in this town understands why she prefers your kind to me. After all, we grew up together.”
“She grew up. You haven't quite made it yet.”
“Is it because you're older?”
“No. It's because I love her even more than you ever could. Lacey wants to travel the world and do something with her life, and you want to chain her to a kitchen here in Peach Park. When she mentioned it to me, I asked if she needed a ride to the airport. I love her for what she is, Ronny, not for something I want her to become.”
Ronny could do nothing but stand and look at Cal. He then lowered his head, left the jail and went away to school.
Occasionally, when Ronny came home, he would stop by briefly to see Cal, but the visits became shorter and more infrequent over the two years. And then on Christmas Eve of the second year, Ronny brought Cal a very special gift in the form of Queenie Devane. Being forewarned, Deputy Jacky Perkins suggested Cal take a shower without disclosing the reason.
When the cell door was opened at midnight, Cal awoke to see the shapely female figure being silhouetted by the hall light. When she moved into the cell, she lifted her dress and let it drop to he floor while revealing her magnificent figure.
“Oh, my God, Lacey,” Cal cried in a whisper.
When Queenie moved forward, bent over and kissed him so softly on the lips, he almost fainted. The fragrance of her body, the warmth, the sweetness, the very essence of her bare skin was almost more than he could bear after a year and a half without a woman.
Queenie kissed him again and then moved upward so that her breasts would cover his face.
“Sweet Jesus!” Cal moaned.
Queenie then began to unfasten Cal's shirt one button at a time, planting a kiss with each opening. She did this until he was completely naked.
The instant she took him in hand, he was off, bursting, spent. Cal was moaning now as Queenie moved up and laid beside him. She cuddled him as he began to grimace.
“It's alright, baby,” Queenie whispered. “She'll understand.”
“I love her.”
“She knows it, and she'll understand, believe me.”
By noon on Christmas Day the story had spread all over Peach Park and Charlton County. Ronny did nothing to squelch it, and Betty Lou Hester, Lacey's best friend, couldn't wait to rush over to the McCall home to tell Lacey. Lacey was naturally hurt as Betty Lou, a blonde-haired illiterate, embellished the story with fabricated images. “Why they must a jes' been doin' it all night. An' when Ronny woke 'em up in the mornin', Cal pulled her back in bed and did it to her agin' before he would let her go. I jes' feel so ashamed about this, Lacey.”
At 11:10a.m. the telephone rang. It was Queenie Devane. “If it's any consolation to you,” she said, “he called out your name.”
Lacey began to smile and tear all at once.
“His mind and his heart never left you. He adores you, Lacey. I only wish someone would love me half as much.”
“Thank you, Queenie.”
“You okay, honey?”
“Now I am. Thank you.”
When Lacey hung up the phone, she turned to face a very angry Betty Lou Hester. “She's sure got some nerve callin' up here after what she done.”
Lacey said, “She was able to make him happy for a night, and it's more than I can do for him right now.”
“You mean to tell me you ain't mad about this?”
“Not at Queenie I'm not, and not at Cal either.”
“Well, I sure would be if'n it was my Bobby-Ray.”
After a silent pause, Lacey whispered, “He called out my name...”
Two days later Jacky Perkins brought Cal a sealed envelope. It was from Lacey, and at first Cal was afraid to open it, fearing it would be a Dear John, an envelope filled with curses and hatred, or, worst of all, a letter full of tears. He placed it down at the end of the bed and let it sit there for an hour or more before daring to open it. Finally, he did, and it read:
“My days without you.”
In the morning I think of you so that life will begin.
By noon, no matter what I've done, you have crossed my mind no less than a hundred times.
All afternoon I dream of you and whisper your name and smile while thinking of our love. By evening I have grown so lonely for you, I don't know how I can go on.
At night, even though you aren't here, I have spent the day with you because you are eternally in my thoughts, a part of my soul, and forever in my heart.
So if you are wondering if I forgive you, my darling, put it out of your mind...and think of me, love me, long for me...as I long for you.
Your Lacey
CHAPTER THREE
It was a flat, plain concrete bridge out in the middle of nowhere that sprawled across a mid Georgia creek on Bacon County Pike 7D. Patch O’Neil and Tadashi Yuji Ada had already set up the toll booth and were now flipping a coin to see who would go to the nearest farmhouse. Yuji tossed the coin and won, but Patch didn't like the results and told him to do it again. This time Patch won, and he immediately started across the lawn to the house where he could see a huge farmer frowning and glaring skeptically at them. Perhaps the man thought he was concealed behind the screen door, but Patch walked right up to him. “Good morning, sir. I was wondering if you could help us.”
“What you fellas doin' up there?”
“We're county workers, sir. Seems the state is running short of cash so they're putting up these toll booths even on the county roads.”
“A toll booth here!?”
“Yes, sir, and stupid me I forgot my Phillips screwdriver. Would you happen to have one?”
“Well, hell yes,” the man said and went to get it.
Patch looked around, back at Yuji who was leaning against the toll booth, and then into the well furnished farmhouse and assumed that the owner was financially healthy.
“Here you go,” the farmer said returning with the tool.
“Maybe you could help us in another way,” Patch began. “You wouldn't happen to know some gentleman around here who would like to go in business with the state, would you?”
“In business with the state?”
“Yes, sir. As I'm sure you know, the government has had to eliminate many of the state and federal programs and jobs in order for the President to balance the budget. So what the county proposes to do, is go partners with anyone who has the time and inclination to run any of these toll booths.”
“You shittin' me?”
“No, I'm not. And at a fifty fifty cut. Every two dollars for every car that crosses that bridge you get half. Would you say a minimum of a hundred cars cross that bridge every day?”
“Pro'bly more than that.”
“And just between you and me, I've known of a few cases where partners who have charged whatever the market will bear with a certain group of people who are too dumb and ignorant to know what's going on...if you know the ones I'm talking about.”
“Hell, yeah. We got a bunch of dumb darkies in this county I know I could charge four dollars or more, and it wouldn't bother me one damn bit.”
“You're my kind of man,” Patch said. “Can I take it you're interested?”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Alright, let's talk business.”
“The state troopers know about this here deal, don't they?”
“Of course, they do,” Patch assured him.
“Then I guess your little Chinese friend up there will know what to say to 'um?”
“Why wouldn't he?”
“He better, 'cause they're comin' up to him right now.”
“Who's coming up to him right now?”
“Two highway patrolmen.”
Patch froze, unable to move or turn around. He started to cough. “May I please have a drink of water?” he said and pushed his way into the house past the farmer.
Yuji, in the meantime, stood up to greet the two officers. “You guys are a little early, aren't you? We don't start shooting for another two hours.”
“Shooting what?” the larger of the two officers asked.
“What do you mean, shooting what? Aren't you guys the actors?”
“Actors for what?”
“We're shooting a car commercial here and two patrolmen get out of the car just like you guys did and come up and look over into the water. Are you putting me on?”
“We don't know anything about a commercial. Do you have a permit?”
“I'm a set man. What do I know about a permit? The producer gets all that stuff. I really thought you guys were actors. You ever think about it?”
“No, we haven't.”
“You should think about it, and maybe stick around for two hours and you might get the part.”
“We'll be back,” the large officer said as they turned to walk away.
Patch O’Neil was now at the farmer's sink dousing his face in cold water and thinking what it was going to be like in prison. He finally took a deep breath and returned to the front door where the farmer was waiting.
“Your partner sure knows how to handle 'em.”
“What!? Why?”
“Because they jes' drove off.”
“They did? Are you sure?”
“There they go.”
Patch almost fainted in relief. “What did I tell you?” he said, coming to the front door and looking anxiously out at Yuji, who was once again leaning nonchalantly against the toll booth. “Well, we haven't got all day,” Patch said to the farmer.
“Do you want in on this deal or not, or do I check with some of the other people around here?”
“I like it.”
“Good,” Patch said and took out an official looking document. “For five thousand dollars you can have complete control of the bridge and the toll booth for two solid years. You get your investment back before the government receives a cent. If there are any questions, here's the number to call right at the top here. Ask for the Commissioner of Highways. And I will also put my personal phone number right here on the top, so that if you have any trouble at all, you can call me any time day or night.”
“Wait jes' a minute and I'll go git the money,” the farmer said and hurried away.
Without showing his impatience, Patch knew for sure the troopers were probably lurking around somewhere no matter what Yuji told them.
“You don't mind takin' cash, do you?”
Patch turned to see the farmer holding a handful of $100 bills.
“If it's convenient for you, we'll manage somehow. Are you sure you can afford this?”
“This ain’t nothin’. And there’s plenty more where this comes from.”
The second Yuji and Patch were back in the truck, they made a U turn, (the State Troopers had driven directly ahead), and the two boys started heading back toward Waycross where they had left their car and rented the pickup. Not certain they were home free, they didn't say a word until they drove the 20 miles and were safely in their own car.
“Must you gloat?” Patch asked when he noticed Yuji grinning from ear to ear.
“I'm not gloating.”
“Yes, you are. Alright, alright, so you got lucky with those state troopers, but you're still not ready for the Big Con.”
“As long as I'm ready when Cal's ready.”
“Yeah, you might be, but I don't know if I'm going on this one.”
Yuji was stopped. Stunned. “What one!?”
When Patch didn't answer, Yuji started smiling. “Cal's got a plan!?”
Patch started mocking him. “Cal's got a play? Cal's got a play?”
Jumping for joy, Yuji began to bounce up and down on the seat. “Tell me! Does Cal have a scheme? Is he getting out? When is it? Where is it?”
“Will you chill?” Patch shouted.
“Alright, alright,” said Yuji. “When is it and where is it?”
“When; I don't know, but have you ever heard of a place called Orange County in Southern California?”
“No, what's there?”
“Three things...orange trees, freeways, and uptight assholes. They say the women are all pasty-faced and frigid, and for kicks they watch reality TV.”
“Sounds awful. When do we leave?”
“We don't yet. Just because Cal's got an idea doesn't mean he's out, or that we're back to work.”
“What does it mean then?”
“It simply means that he's got an idea that Boss Quinn might go for. Somebody got thrown into the Charlton County jail one night, Cal talked to him, and he came up with a scheme. He's been working on it now for about six months.”
“Why wasn't I told?” Yuji asked.