Elmore Leonard - Riding the Rap

Ocala Police picked up Dale Crowe Junior for weaving, two oclock in the morning, crossing the center line and having a busted taillight. Then while Dale was blowing a point-one-nine they put his name and date of birth into the national crime computer and learned he was a fugitive felon, wanted on a three-year-old charge of Unlawful Flight to Avoid Incarceration. A few days later Raylan Givens, with the Marshals Service, came up from Palm Beach County to take Dale back and the Ocala Police wondered about Raylan.

How come if he was a federal officer and Dale Crowe Junior was wanted on a state charge He told them he was with FAST, the Fugitive Apprehension Strike Team, assigned to the Sheriffs Office in West Palm. And that was pretty much all this marshal said. They wondered too, since he was alone, how hed be able to drive and keep an eye on his prisoner. Dale Crowe Junior had been convicted of a third-degree five-year felony, Battery of a Police Officer, and was looking at additional time on the fugitive warrant. Dale Junior might feel he had nothing to lose on this trip south. He was a rangy kid with the build of a college athlete, bigger than this marshal in his blue suit and cowboy boots-the marshal calm though, not appearing to be the least apprehensive. He said the West Palm strike team was shorthanded at the moment, the reason he was alone, but believed he would manage.

And when he put his hat on and drove off with Dale Junior in the confiscated two-year-old Cadillac he was using, a dark blue one, an Ocala officer said, He believes hell manage

Another officer said, Dont you know who that is? Hes the one the Mafia guy drew on last winter in Miami Beach, the two of them sitting at the same table, and this marshal shot him dead. Yeah, Raylan Givens. It was in the paper.

That why he didnt give us the time of day? I doubt he said five words. Shows us his star

The one who had read about Raylan Givens said, I didnt get that impression. I saw him as all business, the kind goes by the book.

He said to Dale Crowe Junior, I know you think you can drive when youve had a few. How good are you when youre sober?

This marshal not sounding like the usual hard-ass lawman; Dale Junior was glad of that. He said, I had a Caddy myself one time, till I sold it for parts and went to work at Disneys. You know what I tried out for? Play Goofy. Mickey Mouses friend? Only you had to water-ski and I couldnt get the hang of it. Sir, I like to mention that these three years since I took off? I been clean. I never even left the state of Florida all that time, not wanting to be too far away from my folks, my old mom and dad, except I never did get to see them.

The marshal, Raylan Givens, said, If youre gonna talk Ill put you in the trunk and Ill drive.

So neither of them said another word until they were south of Orlando on the Turnpike, 160 miles to West Palm, Dale Junior staring straight ahead at the highway, flat and straight through Florida scrub, boring, holding it right around sixty so as to make the trip last, give him time to think of a move he might try on the marshal. The man didnt appear to be much to handle, had a slim build and looked like a farmer-sounded like one, too-forty years old or so; he sat against his door, seat belt fastened, turned somewhat this way. He had on one of those business cowboy hats, but broken in; it looked good on him, the way he wore it cocked low on his eyes.

Dale Junior would feel him staring, though when he glanced over the marshal was usually looking out at the road or the countryside, patient, taking the ride as it came. Dale Junior decided to start feeling him out.

Can I say something?

The marshal was looking at him now.

Whats that?

Theres a service plaza coming up. I wouldnt mind stopping, get something to eat?

The man shook his head and Dale Junior made a face, giving the marshal an expression of pain.

I couldnt eat that jail food they give you. Some kind of potatoes and imitation eggs cold as ice. He waited as long as he could, almost a minute, and said, I dont see why we cant talk some. Pass the time.

The marshal said, I dont care to hear any sad stories, all the bad luck and bum deals lifes handed you.

Dale Junior showed him a frown. Dont it mean anything I got nothing on my sheet the past three years, that Ive been clean all that time?

The marshal said, Not to me it doesnt. Son, youre none of my business.

Dale Junior shook his head, giving himself a beat look now, without hope. He said, Ill tell you, I thought moren once of giving myself up. You know why?

The marshal waited, not helping any.

So I could see my folks. So Id know they was okay. I didnt dare write, knowing the mails would be watched. When the marshal didnt comment Dale Junior said, They do that, dont they?

What?

Watch the mails?

I doubt it.

Dale Junior said, Oh, well, paused and said, My old dad lost one of his legs, had it bit off by a alligator this time hes fishing the rim canal, by Lake Okeechobee? I sure wish I could see him before we get to Gun Club. Thats where were going, huh, the Gun Club jail?

Youre going to the county lockup, the marshal said, to await a sentence hearing.

Yeah, well, thats what they call it, account of its off Gun Club Road. So youre not from around there, huh, West Palm?

The marshal didnt answer, seeming more interested in the sky, clouds coming in from way out over the ocean.

Where you from anyway?

I live down in Miami.

I been there once or twice. Man, all the spies, huh? My dads never been to Palm Beach or seen the ocean. Never got any closern Twenty Mile Bend. You believe it? Spent his whole life over there around Belle Glade, Canal Point, Pahokee He waited, eyes on the road before saying, You know, if we was to get off near Stuart we could take Seventy-six over to the lake, run on down to Belle Glade-it wouldnt be moren a few miles out of the way and Id get to see my folks. I mean just stop and say hi, kiss my old mom Dale Junior turned to look at the marshal. What would you say to that? He waited and said, Not much, huh?

Your old dads never been to Palm Beach or seen the ocean, the marshal said, but hes been up to Starke, hasnt he? Hes seen the Florida state prison. You have an uncle came out of there, Elvin Crowe, and another one did his time at Lake Butler. I think well skip visiting any of your kin this trip.

Dale Junior said, My unclesre both dead.

And the marshal said, By gunshot, huh? You understand how I see your people?

Now he said, You can speed it up some.

Dale Junior looked over at him. You want me to break the law?

Raylan didnt answer, staring at the open vista of flat land to the east, what he imagined the plains of Africa might be like.

We could use some gas.

Well make it, Raylan said.

Fort Drum service plazas coming up.

Raylan didnt say anything to that.

Arent you hungry?

This time Raylan said, Ill see you get something at the jail.

I aint had a regular meal, Dale Junior said, since the day I was arrested, and you know what it was? A hamburger and fries, some onion rings. That night for supper I had potato chips. See, all day I was out looking for work. I had a job, working for a paint contractor? Scraped down and sanded this entire goddamn two-story house and the guy lets me go. Thats what they do, they use you. My trade, I drove a big goddamn cane truck from the fields to the sugarhouse-back before I had that trouble and had to take off. Now, the way the system works, whats known as the free-enterprise system? Theyre free to use you on some dirt job nobody wants and when you get done they fire you. Four dollars an hour, man, thats the system, as good as it gets.