Moonlight and Mistletoe

They scrambled down into the gully that ran at a right angle to the road. Just when they thought they could hear voices ahead, a figure in a gray business suit popped up out of a tangle of persimmon bushes and creepers, right on top of them, nearly scaring them to death.

Scarlett jerked up the weapon she was carrying. Farrie choked back a scream.

“Wait!” the figure said.

It was too late. Demon had already launched herself into the air. She hit the Scraggses’ lookout and bore him to the ground.

As Demon stood on the man’s chest, his voice and breath blown out of him, Scarlett looked down into a totally strange face. But there was no time to ask questions. “Keep your mouth shut,” she hissed. “Or I’ll blow your head off.”

She left Farrie standing over the lookout with the shotgun pointed at his head, and lunged downward on the pine slopes, Demon following.

The gully ended and here the woods were more open. Scarlett stood hidden in some persimmon bushes where she could see Buck Grissom tied to a tree. Devil Anse and Loy Potter, Reese’s father, were punching him. All Scarlett could see was blood. After one particularly vicious blow, she heard him groan.

They were hurting Buck!

A sob tore out of Scarlett. Not a very Scraggs thing to do, but she couldn’t help it. Outrage propelled her out of the bushes, shotgun in hand.

“You get your hands off him!” The shriek burst out of her with a blast from the gun that sprayed into the dirt. “Oh, look at that blood!” she screeched. “You’ve busted his poor nose again!”

There was a moment’s silence as the men turned. Then a look of disbelief followed quickly by expressions of horror.

“Great God, it’s Scarlett!” her uncle Lyndon Baines shouted. “That girl doesn’t stop at nothin’!”

With a scream, Loy Potter made a running jump into the gully, followed by his son. Devil Anse stood where he was.

“Scarlett, honey -” he whined.

“Don’t call me honey, you old fiend!” Furious, tears running down her face, Scarlett lifted the 12 gauge and shot up the top of the pine tree Buck was tied to. Green needles showered down around them.

There were hoarse screams from the gully. “Run, Anse, she’ll shoot you, too!” the unseen voice that was her uncle Lyndon Baines yelled again. “You know how Scarlett is!”

Scarlett turned the shotgun in that direction and fired again. The two Potters hurtled out of the end of the gully and ran for their truck, her uncle Lyndon Baines not far behind.

Scarlett turned back to Devil Anse. “Give me the gun, Scarlett, honey,” he was wheedling.

“Demon, go get him!” Scarlett ordered. With a roar the dog threw itself on the old outlaw and bore him to the ground.

That done, Scarlett raced for Buck. She was weeping outright as she fell to her knees. “Oh, my darling love.” Gently, she touched his bloody face with her fingertips. “I can never make it up to you for what my kinfolk have done. I’m gonna let Demon chew Grandpa to rotten little pieces for doing this to you,” she vowed. Hiccoughs replaced the sobs as she bent to peer at him. “Oh lordy, now you really are going to have to get your nose fixed!”

“Scarlett,” Buck said indistinctly. He’d found what seemed to be a loose tooth. “Don’t do anything. Just get your little sister to come pick the lock and get me out of these handcuffs. Quick.”

“Right away, hon,” Scarlett whispered. She couldn’t help it, she bent over him and touched his mouth, his forehead with feather-light kisses. “Oh, I love you so much,” she moaned. “It’s all ruined now, I guess. But I wish you just loved me, too, even if I am a Scraggs.”

“I love you, Scarlett,” Buck said truthfully, “being a Scraggs has nothing to do with it. And we’re going to get married, too. But right now if we don’t get back to town and the Living Christmas Tree program, I’m going to lose my job.”

“You love me?” she whispered, her eyes like stars. “You really love me? Do you know what you just said?”

Buck tried to raise himself up, a difficult move because of his shoulder. “Is the dog killing Devil Anse?” he wanted to know.

Gently, Scarlett put both hands on the sides of his face. “No, it just sounds like Demon’s tearing his throat out. That’s just so he won’t try to get away.”

“Scarlett,” Buck said again, urgently.

“Yes, love,” she murmured, still gazing at him with adoration in her eyes. “Farrie’ll come and pick the lock on your handcuffs and we’ll get you out of here. Right after she ties up the lookout.”

“Lookout?” Buck said. “What lookout?”

A few minutes later Buck lifted Byron Turnipseed from the ground as best he could using his disabled arm, and set him on his feet.

“I’m sure sorry about this,” Buck said. “What we had was – ah, a case of mistaken identity. The dog had you tagged as the hijackers’ lookout.”

“Oh, not at all, Sheriff, not at all.” The Georgia criminal investigation department officer bent over to pick up his glasses and his gray fedora. “I should have let you know I was in the vicinity. That was tremendous K-Nine work, I didn’t even know you were training dogs up here in Jackson County. Your animal took me out very efficiently, without a scratch.” He examined the elbow of his gray suit, which was missing. “Well, my clothes sustained a little damage, but nothing to worry about.” He looked around, nodding approvingly. “Yes, really a commendable piece of work, your K-Nine holding me down like that until the handler took over.”

“I’m not the handler,” Farrie piped, “I’m a -”

“Witness,” Buck said loudly. He pushed Farrie, who was still carrying her sawed-off shotgun, behind him while his face told Scarlett to do something with her little sister. “It’s a little unusual using a juvenile, but it – ah, cracked the case.”

“No it didn’t,” Farrie shouted, “Scarlett did! Y’all aren’t listening to me, but I gotta get outta here. They’re already starting down at the courthouse!”

“And I’m glad to see you’ve got women on the force now,” Turnipseed said, turning to Scarlett. “Undercover, too. That’s fine affirmative action, Buck, considering the limited size of your department.”

“The child’s got a point, it’s getting late.” Buck tactfully herded them toward the Blazer, keeping the shotgun pointed at Devil Anse’s neck. “I believe I told you about the trouble with the injunction against religious scenes on courthouse property.”

“As a matter of fact,” the CID man responded, “I saw it on television.”

“Yes, well.” Buck looked around, giving himself a moment to think. “It looks like I’m going to have to move this prisoner with us. I’ll tell you the details in a minute.”

He wished he knew the details himself. His deputies were expecting him in town at any time. Yet if he followed procedure, he had to deliver Devil Anse to the jail and book him, and send out an APB for the uncle and the two Potters. At any other time Buck could have radioed for a deputy to come to his assistance, but nearly the entire sheriff’s department, most of them on overtime, were downtown.

He saw Farrie climbing into what he recognized as his mother’s Buick. “Scarlett,” she was shrilling, “I need my mistletoe crown! Where’d you put it?”

Beside Buck, Devil Anse said something evil under his breath. Buck speeded up the old man’s progress by jamming the shotgun a little more firmly under his ear. Whatever happened, Buck had to get to the courthouse before the television people arrived, and the Hare Krishnas. Not to mention Junior and his committee.

Scarlett was practically running to keep up with them. “Buck, listen,” she said, “I