Crimes of Atoka County - Book Two - Time Served

By A. Dean Conaway

Dane Conroy unwillingly entered the school of hard knocks when he was eleven. That schooling proved useful when it became time to avenge the murder of his younger brother and end the ongoing abuse of his little sister. Dane retaliated the only way the corrupt government of Atoka County understood. He called it justice, but those not acquainted with Atoka will probably call it revenge. In the following years nothing else seemed to matter anymore...until the night his wife Lydia called the F.B.I. Dane had broken rule one. "The only hard and fast rule to the perfect murder is not to tell anyone." Now he must call upon every bit of his mental stability, strength, and knowledge of violent prison life to survive. Vengeance cuts both ways.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jan 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781365680663

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Crimes of Atoka County - Book Two - Time Served

Crimes of Atoka County

Time Served

by A. Dean Conaway

Copyright © 2016 by A. Dean Conaway

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used without the express written permission of the publisher except for brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2017

A. D. C.

Oklahoma

Dedication

I dedicate this book to my wife Linda, thanks for putting up with me for the past forty plus years. To Marisa, and Dean II for making me laugh, growl, worry, and proud. To Ashleigh, and Alesha for giving me many years of joy.

Also to Knox. Have a great life, kid. You can do anything you want to if you just stay in school and go for it. Love to you all.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank my family without whose help this book would have remained on my hard drive forever. Thank you for your unending support, suggestions and borderline prodding.

I also recognize my friends of long ago for the inspiration and events that led me to this point in life. You were all like family. Therefore, to my living friends, wherever you are, I hope you live to be a hundred.

And to my family and friends that are no longer living, Rest In Peace.

Contents

Chapter One

Another Prison Stint

At nine o’clock in the morning, trussed up in chains, Dane walked out of the Federal Building. It was fitting the sky was filled with huge black clouds tumbling and spinning. Lightning streaked overhead, lighting up the city and the rain was coming down in buckets. The spring storms had arrived earlier than usual, and arrived vigorously.

The two U.S. Marshals, assigned to transport Dane to prison, were dancing around like show dogs, urging him to move across the parking lot at a faster pace. They were upset because their Robert Hall suits soaked up the water like sponges. However, Dane could only move as fast as the chain they had attached to his ankles would permit.

He raised his face toward the sky, closed his eyes and let the cool sweet rain wash over him. It felt good. Dane could not remember the last time he walked in the rain, and he wanted to enjoy it. One marshal grabbed the chain around Dane's waist and dragged him toward the car. Dane must have made quite a sight, skipping along in the rain with chains on his wrists, waist and feet, looking toward the sky.

As they neared the car, a marshal opened a rear door, shoved Dane in, and jumped in beside him. He picked up a chain attached to the floor and fastened it to Dane’s handcuffs. After checking to make sure he was secure, the marshal got into the front seat with his partner. The two marshals took off their Fedoras, sat them on the dash and wiped the rain from their suits with their hands. They used napkins they had taken from some diner and dried their hair and face.

Dane sat in the rear seat with his face wet and his hair soaked. He asked for some napkins and one marshal put some in his hands and told him to do the best he could. Dane raised his hands as far as the chains would allow and leaned forward. He could get close enough to dry his face and the front of his hair. Satisfied, he tried to get comfortable for the long trip.

The two marshals were talking about the weather, camping trips, and other topics that free men discuss.

Dane sat in the rear seat watching the windshield wipers flip back and forth. It reminded him of a trip he and Lydia had taken to Atoka County. They had run into a thunderstorm, and Lydia had gotten scared and asked him to stop and wait it out. He pulled into a roadside park and they made out while the heavy raindrops beat a rhythm on the roof of the car. The reminiscing brought sadness to Dane, and an aching in his throat. Dane knew he must put all thoughts of Lydia out of his mind and lose any feelings he still had for her if he wanted to survive his long imprisonment.

Sometime close to noon, the rain stopped and the marshals pulled into a roadside café. They did not want Dane to eat inside, so one of them brought the food out to the car. A marshal explained to Dane he could only free one hand, because of security reasons. The marshal handed his service revolver to his partner and opened the back door. The driver held the gun on Dane while his partner unlocked the handcuff on Dane’s left hand. When he got the handcuff reattached to the floor chain, he got into the front seat. He put his gun back into his shoulder holster and handed Dane his food, one item at a time.

After Dane finished eating, he handed the wrappers to the marshal and thanked him. The marshal put the cuff back on Dane’s hand and told his partner they should use the restroom while they were there. Dane was about to make the same suggestion. The marshals got out, opened the back door and told Dane to keep silent inside the cafe.

He asked Dane, Which do you need to do?  Number one, or number two? 

Dane laughed and could not believe that a grown man would use the numbers. He answered, One.

The marshal unlocked the chain from the floor and walked behind Dane holding the chain like a leash to escort him to the bathroom.

As they started across the parking lot to the café people stepped away and stared at Dane. One woman picked up her small child and held him tightly against her body, as if Dane could take over the kid’s soul were he left unprotected. He did not blame the woman; the rattling chains made him look like a dangerous animal.

When the trio arrived at the restroom door, the first Marshal held it open for Dane. The patrons stopped eating and looked at him. Some looked at him with disgust, while others showed pity. Before entering the bathroom, one marshal handed his gun to the other one and told Dane to go use the facilities. The unarmed marshal followed him in and stood behind him. The man apologized for the lack of privacy, but protocol prevented a prisoner from being out of an escort’s line of sight. Dane told him it was not a problem; he had used the bathroom in front of hundreds of people in his time. He had no trouble, because his 'cuffed hands were low and in front of him.

When the marshal’s turn came to use the facilities, he shoved Dane, face first, into a corner and told him not to turn around. It reminded Dane of the reform school and he asked, Why didn’t you stand in the corner while I used the bathroom?

The marshal laughed and said, It doesn’t have anything to do with modesty, it’s because I’m not allowed to turn my back on you.

Dane said, When you get ready to leave, don’t kick me in the back; just tell me you’re ready.

The marshal forced a laughed, but Dane knew he did not understand the significance. 

The marshal zipped up his pants, washed his hands and asked Dane if he wanted a wet paper towel to wipe his hands, since he couldn’t reach the faucet. Dane accepted his offer, so he wet a towel and put it in Dane’s hands.

The Marshal grabbed hold of the chain and led Dane out of the bathroom so the other Marshal could go in. Dane stood outside the door looking at all the people still staring at him. The people had serious looks on their faces and Dane knew they were all wondering what crime he had committed.

The second Marshal came out of the bathroom and the three started for the door. They got to the door just as a woman with three kids opened the door. The three men stopped to let the woman pass, but she stepped aside and motioned for the men to go first.

The marshal thanked the woman and she looked at Dane and smiled sympathetically as he passed by. Just when he thought everyone was looking down on him, the woman made him feel human again. It was only a friendly smile, but sometimes that is all it takes. She did not judge him by his appearance.   

Seven hours later, at seven o’clock in the evening, they had been on the road ten hours.  Dane asked the marshals when they would eat again.  They had just crossed into Nebraska and the marshal driving said, We’re scheduled to lay-over about twenty miles up the road, so you can eat, then. He told Dane he and his partner would get a motel room. Dane asked if he would get a room by himself.  The marshal said, You’ll be staying at the jail in Keysville, Nebraska.  Since you’re a prisoner in transit you won’t be allowed any contact with anybody, so yeah, you’ll get a room by yourself.

Dane had expected nothing less.  If he spent the night in the room with the marshals, they must take turns sleeping.  He hadn’t thought about trying to escape, but if the opportunity presented itself, he would take off like a shot.  Who wouldn’t, were they facing thirty-five years? The penalty for escape would be only seven additional years and that was a small price to pay for a chance at regaining freedom.  

Keysville was a small town in southern Nebraska.  The marshal had no trouble finding the jail.  He pulled up to the front door and said, Well, Dane, you’ll be staying here tonight and we’ll pick you up at seven o’clock in the morning.  We are going to eat breakfast before we come for you, so I suggest you eat whatever they cook for you.  We won’t stop again until noon. The marshal unchained him from the floor and told him to get out of the car.  The Keysville sheriff saw them pull up and came to meet them.  They put little stock in the formality of uniforms.  The sheriff wore a straw hat, brown uniform shirt and jeans.  He stuck out his hand and said, You must be the U.S.  Marshals I'm expecting.  I’m Sheriff Teague, welcome to Keysville. He led the men into his jail and proudly announced that he would post two guards that night, instead of the usual one.  Dane couldn’t tell if the marshals were impressed, or not.  The sheriff told them he had considered a career in federal law enforcement.  The two marshals looked like they both were waiting for the other one to reply.  Finally, the one with the highest seniority said, Well, we’re always on the lookout for good applicants. The sheriff beamed proudly and said, Well, that’s out of the question, now.  I just got married six months ago and my wife wouldn’t want to leave Keysville. Dane thought, Yeah, well, you better watch yourself, Sheriff, the bitch might want you to leave one of these days.

The jail had only five cells and bars separated them.  The sheriff escorted Dane to the last cell and the chains removed.  It felt good to stretch, again.  The sheriff locked the cell door and a marshal said, It’s past dinner time, would a burger and fries be okay, Dane? He replied, Yeah, that’s good, thanks. The marshal asked the sheriff where he could buy Dane’s dinner and the sheriff gave him directions to a diner. 

A thin layer of dust covered the inside of the jail.  It didn’t look like it had been cleaned for some time, but it was good enough to hold the prisoners the town produced.  Dane doubted if there was much serious crime there.  Pictures of the old west hung on walls that desperately needed painting.   The new, oversized, gun cabinet looked out of place in the jail and contained only two rifles.  There was a pair of old worn out cowboy boots on top.  Dane couldn’t figure out the significance of that, but wasn’t interested enough to ask anybody about them.  The keys to the cells were hanging on a rusted nail beside a set of antique leg irons behind the sheriff’s desk.  He had an old plowshare sitting at the front and center of his desk.  It was plain to see that the sheriff was a fan of the old west. 

Two local inmates occupied one cell, and after the sheriff went to his desk, they talked to Dane.  He told them what he had been convicted of and where he was going.  They were amazed that Dane was so nonchalant about it.  They were both in jail for public intoxication and one said he would kill his self before he would do that much time.  Dane said, That’s the stupid way out.  Thirty-five years will pass, whether you’re alive, or not.  When it’s over, it would be best to be alive. He did not understand if he believed that, or not.

Maybe death would be better than being an old man with nothing to his name, except prison issue clothes, a few dollars in his pocket and nowhere to go when he got out.  Dane didn’t want to appear down in the dumps over his long sentence.  He did not need, nor want the pity of strangers.

Forty-five minutes later a short, chunky woman approximately twenty-five years of age entered the jail with Dane’s food.  With a little maintenance, such as makeup and a new hairstyle, she would be pretty. She walked toward the cell and the sheriff stopped her.  He informed her that Dane could have no visitors and that he must take deliver the bag to him.  The woman said, Well, can’t you just come down to his cell with me? The sheriff knew that she wanted to look at Dane, because everybody had heard about the judge killer coming into town and wanted to see what he looked like.  Small towns were alike; nothing ever happened that no one knew about.  He was probably the biggest attraction that came to the town since the last carnival passed through.  The sheriff said, Okay, Angela, but I have to be the one to hand it to him. The woman smiled, handed the bag to the officer and followed him to the cell. 

Sheriff Teague gave the bag to Dane and stepped out of the way so the woman could get a good view of him.  Placed on display, as if he was a sideshow freak, irritated Dane, but the woman quickly changed his mind.  She asked Dane his name and talked to him.  The sheriff did not object, so Dane visited with her. 

It soon became apparent that she didn’t have the slightest bit of self-confidence.  Dane felt sorry for her and figured she endured ridicule over her weight when she was a little girl.  He tried to say all the right things to boost her confidence without condescension.  After a few minutes, he had her smiling and acting as if they had known each other for years.  She was easy to talk to and she listened when he spoke.  She was a little on the homely side, but she was very nice and friendly.  Dane enjoyed the conversation as he ate the food she had brought him.  Although the sheriff’s orders were not to allow visitors, he let the woman stay for forty-five minutes.  However, he stayed with her to monitor the conversation.

When it was time for her to leave, she wished Dane luck, said it was nice meeting him, and told him to take care of his self.  As she walked away, Dane wondered if he should have found a woman more like her, instead of settling down with Lydia. 

He had heard that homely girls make better, more loyal wives.  However, He had not been the best husband, either.  He felt guilty for thinking of her as homely and realized that she was just living life with what she had, and hoped that what people thought, didn’t bother her.  Dane had enjoyed the visit from her and wondered if he would get to see her again before he left town. 

After she left Dane talked with the two other prisoners.  They teasingly told him it wasn’t fair he got a burger, fries and a cola, while they had to eat beans and bread. 

When the sheriff stepped out of the office, he asked them about the girl.  The men told him she was the sheriff’s sister and Dane said, Damn, I started to ask her if she wanted to spend the night with me.  I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t.  It might have made him mad.

One of them replied, Shit, man, she’s too damned ugly to spend the night with.

The other one laughed and Dane said, Are either one of you aware of my situation, at all? She's probably the last woman I’ll get to talk to for the next forty years.  Does it sound like I can be overly particular? The men understood his plight and said they would probably think the same way, if they were in his shoes.  Dane figured that they had asked her out in the past and the woman had probably turned them both down. 

He knew the ways of life in a small town and usually everyone, eventually, gets around to asking everyone else out on a date.  Then there is always the occasional rendezvous with a married woman.  The boredom of a one-horse town affects those women, also, and Atoka County is the leader in that regard.  Dane had helped himself to several when he was between girlfriends. 

Two deputies came in to watch Dane through the night and he suspected they would put a stop to the men talking, but instead, they joined in on the conversation. 

They had been born and raised there, but neither had graduated high school.  One had been a high school football star and refused to let go of the glory he once had.  He told Dane about all the tough touchdowns he had made, and how he had won the game with only seconds left on the clock.  He still wore his varsity athlete’s jacket, although the sleeves were fraying and the waistband was ragged.  The man must have been telling the truth, because the other three men were nodding and grinning as he told the stories.  When the deputy talked about his senior year, Dane thought the deputy would cry.  That was the year he blew out his knee and the injury had ended his football career.  He was so devastated that he quit school and never graduated.  He said he still had plans to get his G.E.D., so he could get a good paying job.  The other deputy told Dane, without thinking before he spoke, that the man had been saying that since he was twenty-two and he was now thirty.  As soon as he said that, he said, Of course, it’s never too late.  He’ll get that G.E.D one of these days. Dane tried to break the tension, by asking, What was your longest run for a touchdown? The deputy smiled, told Dane the story of his longest and best touchdown, and pulled an old newspaper clipping out of his wallet to prove he was telling the truth. 

Dane doubted that the man would ever try to earn his diploma, or let anybody forget he had been a football star.  It was sad listening to him reminisce about something that most of the town probably never gives a second thought to. 

The two inmates and the two guards talked into the night about their town and some things that went on there.  He learned of the mayor’s wife caught red-handed with a bag boy who worked at the grocery store.  One deputy told him about the owner of the gas station.  He said the man would let his wife pick up young men and take them home while he watched through the rear window of their new mobile home.  He said she was a very good-looking woman and younger than her husband.  It went on for a long time until one man she had picked up heard the husband cough and saw him peeking through the window.  The man said the gossip got so bad they had to sell the station and move away.  The story was told so often it eventually had her picking up twelve-year-old boys, which was not true.  The men told him of several other happenings and after each story, they would roar with laughter.  Dane had wondered if that town was anything like Atoka, Oklahoma, but after hearing the men talk he knew that it was.  The only difference he could see was that the sheriff and all the other officials seemed honest, hard-working men.  That was something that Atoka County could never lay claim to.

They finally tired and Dane told them he needed sleep and would see them in the morning.  He asked one prisoner what they usually served for breakfast and learned it would be oatmeal, toast and coffee.  He was not the least bit surprised, turned over and went to sleep.  

The next morning the woman delivered a breakfast tray to Dane. The deputies assumed that the U.S.  Marshals had sent it and let her in.  She went to Dane’s cell and gave him a sausage and egg sandwich on toast.  One other prisoner said, Damn, those Feds are treating you right. 

The woman sat in a chair outside the cell and talked to Dane while he ate.  She told him she could not stay long, but she wanted to tell him bye before the marshals came for him.  Dane noticed that she had on makeup and her hair was curled.  He commented on how good she looked and told her she should do that more often, just for her benefit, and no one else.  She smiled, touched her hair and asked, Do you really think it looks good?   You’re probably just saying that to be nice. He convinced her he was serious and told her he would ask her for a date if he were a free man.  She grinned and said, I would say yes.

She told Dane she thought he was nice and she wished she could have met him before he got into trouble.  He figured she must be lonely, if she was attracted to a man in a jail cell.  That should have been her first warning sign he was a lost cause.  He thanked her for bringing the sandwich and she hurried out of the jail. 

Thirty minutes later the marshals came for Dane.  They pulled him from the cell, ordered him to place his hands on the bars, step back and spread his legs.  One marshal put the wide leather belt around his waist and buckled it in the back.  He put the leg irons