Beneath the Cracks (37 page)

"It's probably more than likely, Billy, but
until we find the source of the poison, we won't be able to answer
that question.  Will you call me when you get the analysis
back on the unknown substance in Denton's stomach?"

"I can check right now."

"Really?"

"Sure," Billy said.  "I figured it
wasn't high priority since we already identified the source of the
poison." 

I listened to his fingers clacking over the
keyboard of his computer while he called up the results of
additional testing.

"Huh," he grunted.  "Now how in the
world did you know this?"

"The tortilla wasn't corn flour, was
it?"

"No," he said.  "It's cassava, and it's
full of cyanide."

"They weren't taking any risks."

"But Helen," Billy began, "if the processing
of the root removes the toxic glucosides, how can the flour be so
full of poison?"

"It's a very good question, Billy." 
One for which an answer was starting to crystallize in my
mind.  Staking out the bikers at Uncle Nooky's Bar and Grill
would have to wait.  "Thanks for your help."

I disconnected the call and made my way to
where Briscoe left the Expedition earlier.  Another call
confirmed that Darnell was still in the office.

"I need that warrant, Chris."

"Already?"

"Yeah, can you help us?  I have a
specific interest in Denton's lab now.  We're looking for
cassava root."

"Related to his murder?"

"And the biker found in Downey
tonight.  Billy Withers from the ME's office just told me that
he was poisoned in the same way Denton was, at approximately the
same time.  Cassava root isn't indigenous to the United States
save for one endangered variety found in Texas in the 1990's,
Chris, nor is the root stable long enough to endure the time it
would take to import it and get it through customs."

"So the farm, with it's automatic
weapon-armed security guards, suddenly appears to be a candidate
for where this stuff is grown.  Do you believe that this is
what Jake Cox discovered?"

"I suspect it could be the tip of the
iceberg.  We need that root so I can have it tested and
confirm my theory.  In order to do that, I need to find the
plants."

"Let me call Judge Hathaway.  Are
Briscoe and Conall with you?"

"Not yet.  I'll call them when we're
finished."

"You didn't ask earlier, but obviously, I
got this Seleeby character delivered back to D.C., Helen."

I cringed and imagined the earful of
evidence he likely spewed on the long cross country flight. 
"Chris, I'm sure he said –"

"A load of bullshit.  The man has no
evidence, Helen, nothing beyond circumstantial stuff that wouldn't
hold up in court.  He doesn't have enough for a warrant to
search for anything related to you at this point, particularly
since the one he executed in Washington turned up nothing.  I
wish you had told us what was going on from the beginning.  We
could've put an end to this nonsense long ago."

"You didn't know me.  Why would you be
compelled to help a stranger who for all you knew, shouldn't be
trusted based on the open FBI investigation?"

"Because people in the know in Washington
had and I suspect still have faith in your character.  You
proved yourself to me in short order, wrapping up that business
with Jerry Lowe so quickly.  It was a big deal to the people
in this city."

Guilt overwhelmed me.  My hands
shook.  I gripped the steering wheel tightly.  "Call me
when you get the warrant, Chris.  I need to call Briscoe and
Conall."

Before I made the next call to rouse my
partners, I tried to push the guilt away.  In all of Dad's
lessons, not one time could I recall him imparting any wisdom that
diminished feelings of remorse.  It still wasn't an emotion
evoked from what I did to Rick.  That still was a blessed
emotional blank.  What gnawed at my gut was the faith people
kept expressing in me, in my so-called character. 

I would truly be despised if the truth was
ever revealed.  The mere thought of being caught by Seleeby or
anybody else made my skin damp and my heart flutter with stabbing
palpitations.  Maybe that was Dad's greatest lesson of
all.  Make sure you don't get caught.  Even as
brilliantly careful as he'd been, in the end, he failed to follow
his own rules.

Conall and Briscoe could distract me from
the private hell that plagued me better than anything else. 
"Focus on the case.  Finish putting the pieces together."

They hadn't left Downey yet when I called
Briscoe first.

"We're still hanging out here,
Eriksson.  Puppy and I decided that we ought to give those
pictures more than a once over after I sent 'em to you, and
realized that those bags we thought looked like they were from the
bank contained a consistent misspelling."

"Oh?"

"I think, and my partner agrees, that this
whole money delivery was staged to look legitimate in case anyone
ever came across the transaction.  Darkwater Municipal Trust
was spelled municipal with an
E
at the end.  Those bags
didn't come from the bank."

"But at first glance, they looked like they
did," I agreed with their assumption and brought Tony up to speed
on the warrant Darnell was seeking.  "I figured we could head
over to OSI's pod at the state police headquarters and pick it up
on our way out to the farm – that is unless you guys would rather
serve it in the morning."

"The element of surprise could put this ball
in our court," Tony said.  "I say we move now.  You think
that's what Denton was really working on out there?  This
poisonous plant?"

"We won't know until we get inside and see
for ourselves.  Serving this warrant is my highest priority
right now.  I'm about five minutes away from the
division.  I'll meet you at the car."

Darnell had the warrant for us when we
arrived at OSI.  He pulled me aside before we could
leave.  "Have you talked to Johnny since the second victim was
found?"

"No," I said.  "I haven't spoken to him
since Saturday morning after we found Denton dead in his
cell.  Why?"

"I haven't talked to him since
Thursday.  I'm getting concerned, Helen.  I thought he'd
be back from wherever he went by now.  In fact, I expected
he'd come home the minute he learned that this case was getting
more complicated."

"He said he'd be here as soon as he could,
Chris.  Are you sure you have no idea what he was
investigating?"

Darnell's eyes darted away.  "Not
really, no."

"But you have suspicions, don't you?"

"Nothing I can discuss at this time. 
I'll keep trying to reach him."

I gripped Darnell's arm.  "Wait. 
You've been trying to contact him and haven't been able to reach
him?"

He nodded.  "That's why I asked if
you've heard from him.  I thought maybe he answered when you
called because this departure was more about…well, the two of you,
than it was any case he's investigating.  He doesn't always
keep me in the loop when he gets leads, but if he really was
following something that put him out of communication with the
office for more than a day or two, he'd tell me."

"If I talk to him again, I'll ask him to
call you," I said.  "In fact, I'll try to get in touch with
him on the way out to Dupree Farm.  Okay?"

"I appreciate it, Helen."

With the aid of lights and sirens, we made
good time out to Dupree's so-called farm.  I charged the gate
where security stood with stalwart determination that no entry
would be granted to anyone – police or not – in the middle of the
night. 

"Open the gate."

"This isn't Darkwater Bay jurisdiction," a
surly guard sneered.  Another was in a booth a few feet away
talking on the telephone.

"Crevan, Tony, place this man under arrest
for denying us entry after being served a lawful warrant."

I sidestepped him.  His arm snaked out
around my waist two seconds before he found himself on his back in
the dirt.  "And assaulting a police officer."

The guard in the booth rushed out.  I
pointed my Glock at his head.  "Take one more step, and I'll
put you down like a rabid dog.  Tony, cuff him and put them in
that security check point station."

I reached into the security station and
pushed the button to open the gate, gun still trained in the
direction of the administration building.  All was
quiet.  No horde of lawyers rushed from the exit to challenge
the merits of the warrant.  "When you've got them secured,
bring the car.  I'm heading in."

"Would you just wait a God-blessed
minute?  Yeesh!"  Briscoe threw up his hands. 

I waited, restless and pacing, but climbed
back in the car when Tony drove through the opened gate.  "We
may not find Dupree here.  I doubt the man lives in his
office.  I don't suppose either one of you know the closest
town."

"I don't think that's our biggest issue
right now."  Crevan pulled his weapon and prepared to get out
of the vehicle.  Bright lights over the cab of a truck
appeared in front of us, blinding all three occupants of the
car.

They rolled to a stop, Crevan and Tony
simultaneously opening their doors and taking cover. 
"Darkwater Bay Police," Crevan's voice boomed through the space
between the vehicles.  "We're here to serve a search
warrant.  Shut off the lights on your vehicle and step out
slowly."

The sequence of events from that point
forward got jumbled in my mind when gunfire erupted.  I
crouched on the floor in the back seat of the car as the world
shattered.  "Shit!"

Chapter 33

Glass rained down.  Hundreds of rounds
of ammunition were fired, and I hoped I only imagined that bullets
were whizzing past me, that tufts of foam from exploding upholstery
in the car weren't really flying through the air.  Someone
grabbed me from behind and pulled me out of the car.

"Get down!"  Briscoe's nose was about a
millimeter from my face.

I scrambled on all fours behind the car,
pulled the Glock again, and started returning fire.  One
clip.  Two clips.  Still more bullets came.

"Those are machine guns!" my voice strained
to be heard over the sound of warfare. 

Crevan shoved his phone into my hand. 
"Get down and call for backup!  State police!"

My hands trembled, but I dialed as fast as I
could.  I screamed over the din at Chris Darnell, "Dupree
Farm, we're under heavy fire – send backup!  I'm out, I'm out,
Crevan!"

The line went dead.  It seemed like
hours passed along with the gunfire.  We crouched behind the
ruined police car, returning fire.  Tony opened the trunk and
retrieved boxes of rounds for our guns to keep the fight going and
give us even a slim chance for survival.

Someone screamed, "I'm hit, I'm hit!"

The barrage intensified, unbelievable as
that seemed.  Time slowed.  My words were slurred, drawn
out.  Everything took on a surreal, slow motion quality. 
And then lights appeared from the sky, and the blackness behind us
was illuminated by red and blue beacons of state police closer than
Darkwater Bay's headquarters. Plus, seventy five miles on a winding
highway by car didn't take very long in a helicopter as the crow
flies.

I dragged dusty air into my lungs.  We
were going to be okay.  Darnell sent backup.  The rapid
fire slowed and then finally stopped.  A voice boomed from the
helicopter above.  "State police.  Put down your weapons
and lie face down on the ground.  Do not move or we will open
fire."

The sound of the blades on the helicopter
made a low, whumping sound, kicking up dirt and debris as the craft
sank closer to the ground.  I shielded my eyes with one hand
and tried to see where it was landing.  Seconds later, I was
being dragged away from cover behind the car by men wearing canvass
and Kevlar sporting automatic weapons.  If not for the state
police patches on the arms of their jackets, I would've feared that
the security force at Dupree's farm had won the battle.

A blanket materialized around my
shoulders.  I found myself sitting in the back of a car. 
"Drink this," someone ordered and thrust a cup into my hand. 
I heard words like
shock
and
post traumatic
response
.  The last woke something inside my dulled
mind.

"I'm alive goddammit, and I'm not an
invalid."  Words that started soft were pushed out with great
force.  "And I've still got a warrant to serve."

"We'll be finished with the sweep of the
buildings in thirty minutes maximum, Commander Eriksson," one of
the black-clad state officers said.  His posture stiffened,
and he actually saluted me.

I laughed at the ridiculousness of his
gesture.  "It's detective, officer, but Eriksson will do just
fine.  You boys arrived in the nick of time.  I'm not
sure how much longer we could've held out."

"Commander Darnell said you're in command of
the scene on behalf of OSI, ma'am, to follow your lead."

I half expected him to call me sir. 
His stiff form didn't relax a fraction of an inch. 
"Ex-military, officer?"

"Yes ma'am."

"At ease then, soldier.  Have they
surrendered?"

"It's looking that way, ma'am."

"Eriksson, please," I insisted.  "You
call me ma'am one more time and I'm gonna ask for a mirror to make
sure this experience didn't age me fifty years."

It was only a hint of a smile, but the
officer assigned to stay couldn't suppress the quiver at the corner
of his mouth.  His spine relaxed.  "You weren't hit,
Eriksson.  Was this your first fire fight?"

"First time anyone has ever shot at me,
period," I admitted.  Funny thing to think of at a time like
this.  "I'll never live it down, will I?"