of talking to the news,” Kate said.
“That’s the good part,” Bannock said. “It ain’t the news. It’s Clyde. And when other media agencies call you, and I guarantee they will because the story’s a good one—‘Local Woman Hero,’ Raymond Jolly, and the unsolved nature of the Desiree Martini kidnapping—you’ll be able to tell them that you’ve granted an exclusive to Clyde.” He paused. “That’s guaranteed to get him picked up on every stringing service across the nation.”
Kate didn’t doubt that. As she recalled, the Desiree Martini kidnapping had been huge news a few months ago.
“How’s that going to help me get to my site?” Kate asked.
Bannock sighed. “I have to do the math for you too? And here I was believing your daddy when he said he raised a bright girl.”
Not too bright, Kate thought sourly. I married Bryce Colbert and didn’t see him for the louse that he is.
“Just tell Clyde you’re willing to do the interview in the car on the way to your site. He’s taken all the pictures of a wrecked bus that he can publish. What he needs is a bigger story. Something with a little more homegrown flavor, and a personal look at the ‘hero’ of this little shindig. And Tyler Jordan’s driving one of your trucks, isn’t he?”
Kate nodded.
The sheriff spread his hands and smiled. “There you go. You can drop Tyler off at home and keep the truck so you can pick up your kids at the airport. I’ve even provided you transportation. Problem solved.”
Kate had to admit that the arrangement would work out fine. She wasn’t even surprised that Bannock knew she was picking up Steven and Hannah. It was a small community, and Bannock kept a close watch on things.
She took a deep breath. “Let me know when you find my Jeep?” It was a point of pride more than anything. She didn’t want Jolly and Shane to get away scot-free.
“You bet. I’m going to have to keep it in impound for a few days. It’s evidence now.”
“Sure.” Kate thanked him again, then walked over to Clyde Burris and laid out the deal. The reporter quickly agreed and guided her to his car, changing tapes in his microcassette recorder as they walked.
By the time she reached the site, Kate felt all talked out. Clyde, slim and nervous and a chain-smoker, had kept at her the entire trip, somehow managing to change radio channels and keep up with all the local breaking news at the same time.
There was a lot of speculation about what had caused the bus to wreck, from an organized prison breakout all the way to a terrorist attack.
Clyde had kept returning to that too, but Kate hadn’t been able to tell him any more than she already had. She’d been curious about the blond man with Jolly, though. According to Clyde’s sources, Shane Warren was pulling a thirty-year shot on a drug charge and second-degree-murder rap. Supposedly the Atlanta district attorney was even looking at him for killing an undercover narcotics agent.
“Not a good guy,” Clyde had summed him up. But the reporter had been curious as to why Shane Warren had ended up with Raymond Jolly.
When they arrived at the site, Kate thanked the reporter for the ride and got out looking for Tyler. The young man was sitting sullenly in the guide truck listening to a Toby Keith CD. His auburn hair hung down to his shoulders. Aviator sunglasses covered his eyes. His skin stayed red all the time and was covered with freckles. At eighteen, he was short and skinny like his father, but still in possession of out-of-control hormones and way too much male attitude.
“I’d about given up on you,” Tyler said. His stained straw cowboy hat was more crumpled than creased, and had bright-blue peacock feathers jutting from it. His black T-shirt was festooned with marijuana leaves. Not exactly the kind of message Kate wanted to send out to clients. She could imagine the T-shirt showing up in pictures people showed their friends and family back home.
“Where’s Mathis?” Kate asked, walking by him. She checked her watch. Damn, but the time was getting away from her. She was going to have to hurry if she was going to pick up Steven and Hannah on time.
“The cabin. Got back about twenty minutes ago and started drinking. Him and his buddies.” Tyler uncoiled from the four-wheel-drive pickup and got out.
“Bring the video camera.”
Remaining sullen, Tyler asked, “Why?”
“Just do it,” Kate commanded.
Tyler cursed. For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to do what she said. Then he reached into the truck to get a compact video camera. He reluctantly followed her.
Kate held a stun baton in one hand. So far, Tyler hadn’t seen it. The weapon was one Kate had learned to use out in the bush. It was an Asp Electroless Tactical Baton specially made for a humid environment like southern Florida. When closed, it measured only nine and a half inches, but the release button expanded it to twenty-six inches of carbon steel guaranteed to stand up under repeated impacts. The weapon only weighed a pound and a half.
Her father had introduced them to her when she’d been fifteen, and even made her take courses with it at a martial arts dojo till she knew what she was doing. You’re a woman, baby girl, her dad had said, and you’re workin’ in a man’s world. Some of them guys you take on are gonna show a mean side ever’ now an’ again. No matter that you can scuffle an’ fight, you’re likely gonna be givin’ away a hundred pounds or more an’ maybe a few inches of reach. It’d be stupid for you to work in them conditions an’ not be able to properly take care of yourself.
Over the years, Kate had worn the weapon out in the bush. She’d used it more on snakes, wild pigs and alligators than men. But she’d used it on men before too. It usually shortened the fight any belligerent drunk might want to provoke to a matter of seconds, with no one getting seriously hurt.
“Did you take video of Mathis shooting the wildlife?” Kate asked. That was why they kept the camera. Sometimes as an added feature to the hunt, and sometimes to shoot evidence of poachers.
“Yep. Lotsa footage.” Tyler shook his head. “Dumbass. He wants a copy. Even paid me in advance.”
Kate breathed out in an effort to stay calm. Guys like Darrel Mathis just didn’t understand that shooting video of what they were doing was for a court case, not a vanity recording they could show their friends later.
“We booked five buddies,” Kate said. “How many are still with him?”
“Three.”
“What condition?”
“About as drunk as Mathis.”
“Any idea what set him off?”
“They’ve been drinking since last night,” Tyler said. “I don’t think they’ve come up for air or been to bed.” He was silent for a moment. “What are you going to do?”
“Ask them to leave.”
“Great.” Tyler snorted. “I’m sure they’ll just pack right up and go. Is the sheriff sendin’ somebody around?”
“They’re tied
