Body of Evidence (12 page)

Anderson looked over at the old man staring up at him. He could imagine only one reason why the Irishman was back there. He must have been involved with the drug runners. Which fitted in somehow with him being shot at Gregory Pike's house. Why else would this man have been at Gregory's house that day?

But if the mysterious Irishman was with either the cartel or the Lions, why had one of his own shot him and put him in a coma? Had he been there as backup and somehow got caught up in the crossfire?

And why hadn't Ralph Chason reported the trespasser long before now? Maybe because he used that site to enjoy his stash of pot?

“Did you alert anyone about this man, Mr. Chason?”

Chason shook his head. “No, I didn't. I figured I'd scared him away. And then, all that commotion started—big machines digging dirt and construction crews in and out all the time. I quit going back there, but I'm still upset about it. I intend to build a big fence on that property line. I don't need tourists or vagrants traipsing all over my land.”

Anderson stood to leave. “I might have to question you again, sir. But hopefully now we can find out who this man is and what he was doing back there.”

“Well, you might start by doing an international criminal search,” Chason said with confidence. “I watch enough crime shows to know that at least.”

You and everyone else,
Anderson thought. He tipped his hat. “Thanks. You take care.”

“You, too,” Chason said.

Then Anderson turned back. “I have one more question. Do you smoke pot?”

Chason's bushy eyebrows lifted. He hesitated, then shrugged. “I figure you pulled my record. You gonna bust me for that?”

“I should but I don't have any proof and I'm not here to find any right now. I did find part of a marijuana cigarette near a campsite on the property. Could that have been yours?”

Chason put his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans. “Okay, all right. Yeah, it was mine. I've been back
there a few times since the construction started. But I ain't done nothing except light up a joint, I swear.”

Anderson wrote that in his notes. “Thanks for your cooperation. And as a reminder, you don't need another misdemeanor on your record, sir.”

Chason waved a hand in the air. “I've heard it all, son. I know, I know. Point taken. I'm getting too old for all that sneaking around, anyway.”

Anderson left, his gut feeling saying that Chason was telling the truth. Why would the man lie? He'd been pretty upfront about his dispute with Jennifer and about his enjoyment of a joint now and then. Of course, that could have been a smokescreen to hide his real purposes. For all Anderson knew, Chason was in cahoots with these criminals and was maybe being paid to keep his silence about what was back there. He could have been instructed to call in about the Irishman just to send Anderson on a wild-goose chase instead of watching that particular piece of property.

That would mean starting all over again from scratch. And it would also mean that Jennifer was still in a whole lot of danger.

A
nderson pulled up to the alligator pond just in time to watch Boudreaux slide out of the open crate and take his first splash in the gray waters of the brand-new rock-encased pond.

Jennifer glanced up when he slammed his truck door but she waited for him, her hands on her hips, her expression questioning. “Where were you?”

“I'll tell you later,” he said, careful because of all the people milling around. He scanned the woods and hills. “Everything go okay?”

She gave him an impatient look. “Just dandy. I've got to get back to work.”

Was she mad that he'd left during the big event? Didn't the woman understand he had other fish to fry? Probably not, since her mind was solidly centered on these alligators and keeping them happy, even when her own safety was in question.

Anderson shook it off and glanced around, trying to gauge if any of the workers could be a drug runner or potential killer. But everyone looked focused and happy about the alligators finally having a new home. And he had to admit, since he'd continued his nightly stakeouts
back here, things seemed to have settled down. Maybe the culprits had found what they were looking for the night of the fire. Or maybe Chason or someone else had tipped them off and deemed this place too hot right now.

But he was itching to know exactly what they'd tried so hard to get to, since it surely had a lot to do with the Lions.

His phone buzzed and he walked away from the activity inside the pond's chain-link fence to answer Ben's call.

“Still no luck on identifying the coma patient,” Ben said. “But I can't imagine why an Irishman is involved in this mess. Jimenez told us that almost all the cartel lackies are Mexican.”

“Doesn't make a bit of sense. I really hope we're not going down the wrong road. What if the Lions had nothing to do with Greg's murder?”

Anderson watched as Bobby Wayne's big whip-like tail flipped in the air very near Jennifer's head. She got out of the way and the gator took off through the water.

Holding a long breath, he said, “What was he doing at Greg's house that day? Maybe he was hired for the hit but someone showed up and shot both of them. But who? And why shoot the hit man? We could be jumping to conclusions. He might not be a hit man. He could have been there for any number of reasons.” He thought back over what Chason had said. “The neighbor did say the Irishman was arguing with someone on the phone. Maybe one of his cronies?”

“We need to find the answer to that,” Ben replied.
“You keep watch on your side and we'll do the same here. I'm alerting the rest of the team on this in our meeting tomorrow morning. Meantime, I'll run a few more searches. Good work, Anderson.”

Anderson clicked off then headed toward the crowd gathered around the pen. He had to admit, the place looked good. Two sets of chain-linked high-security fences kept the gators in and any inquisitive visitors out. The place had a swamp-like feel that included a weeping willow lapping into the pond on one end and some palm trees clustered behind several big sunning rocks on the other end. While the pond looked natural, the whole thing had been designed to give the alligators plenty of deep water on one side and lots of space to sun on the rocks and land all around it on the banks. There was a rock ledge with metal side rails that looked like a pier near one of the gates for keepers to feed the alligators either through the fence or with a pole. Nearby that, the small utility building, complete with a new circuit board, housed equipment, a refrigerator and treats for the alligators. It also now had a phone, and a small office and bathroom with a deep sink. The crew had finished up yesterday.

All around the perimeter, the woods glowed orange and yellow as the leaves of late fall continued to change. While the alligator habitat looked fresh and new against the pretty woods, Anderson couldn't help but wonder if someone was out there right now, watching and waiting.

His gut told him the cartel would strike again once things settled down.

“So what do you think?” Jennifer asked after she'd
made sure Boudreaux and Bobby Wayne were situated.

Anderson glanced at the spot where just two days ago, the earth had been lightly shoveled. Both he and Cade had decided to let things be for now, in hopes that whoever had been here would either return or that they'd found what they wanted and would make their next move somewhere else. He just wished he had discovered them in the process, but no use crying over spilled milk.

“I think those are two lucky alligators,” he said since he didn't want to go into detail about his real concerns and feelings. “Now you can activate the security system we put in around the fence line.”

“Yes.” She gave him a level look. “That should keep anyone out from now on. I hope your drug runners will find a new place to do their dirty deeds. I want them to leave me alone.”

“I hope I can catch them before they do anything else,” he shot back. “But that doesn't mean you're safe, Jennifer.”

“Yeah, right,” she said, kicking mud off her boots. “I was harassed, attacked and my barn is toast. I think I'll remember that for a long time to come, Ranger-man.”

“Well, maybe we can all sleep a little better tonight, at least.”

She nodded. “I hear that. I'm exhausted. But my work is just beginning. Now I have to finish the rest of the updates and renovations around here, and somehow find a way to get the barn rebuilt and keep my animals fed and happy in the process. I hope to have a grand reopening around Christmas—a combination fundraiser
and exposé. Then in the spring, we should be off and running for a long summer. That's our heaviest tourist season.”

Anderson digested her heavy lineup, wondering how he could help ease her load. Then he thought of his mother. The woman could organize a committee in about five minutes, bake a casserole to feed everyone and have a project up and running before sundown. He'd have to give her a call later and solicit her help in getting some more volunteers and sponsors for Jennifer's compound. His mother had a wide circle of friends who loved to support causes like this. And due to the nature of his work, she wouldn't ask questions. She'd just go into action.

He looked up to find Jennifer watching him. “Uh-oh. I can see those wheels turning in your head. What's on your mind, Anderson?”

Amazed that she could read him so well, Anderson shrugged. No need to go into detail. He'd call his mom later. “Well, while I'm happy that this is one project you can mark as done, I'm also still on the case. And I'll be staked out back here for the next few days.”

“You can't live on my property forever,” she said, her eyes going wide in disbelief. “What are you hoping to find?”

“I don't know,” he admitted. “They could be long gone or they could come back. I think somebody hid something back here and I'd like to catch that somebody digging up whatever it is—if it's still here.”

She dug in her boots. “I won't allow any digging now that this is finished. It's too dangerous and it could ruin this carefully designed area.”

“That's why I'm gonna be back here tonight and for the next few nights at least,” Anderson tried to explain. “To catch them before they do any damage.”

“Okay, right.” She pushed at her long curls. “I'll be so glad when this is over and done.”

“Me, too.” But he sure didn't want things between them to be over and done. No, sir. And volunteering here on a regular basis would be one way for him to keep tabs on Jennifer.

“I've got some things to finish up here,” Jennifer said, her tone dismissive. But she turned to face him again, hesitant now. “I'll see you back at the house.”

Anderson nodded, then whirled to leave. He had a lot to do, anyway. Now that they had a lead on the coma victim, maybe they could find a break in this case.

And in the meantime, he'd give his mother a call about getting some help out here. That is, if Jennifer would accept that help, stubborn woman that she was.

 

Jennifer got up early the next morning to voices outside her door. Becky had gone back to the city, but the usual helpers were scheduled. She didn't recall having this many people on the roster for today.

After dressing and grabbing her coffee and a power bar, she headed outside to see what was going on.

And found about twenty people gathered around one tiny dark-haired woman.

“Excuse me,” Jennifer said as she parted the crowd and turned to stare at everyone. “We're not open to the public right now due to renovations. How did y'all get in here?”

The tiny woman grinned and reached out her hand.
“Hi. You must be Jennifer. I'm Ramona Michaels, Anderson's mom. And this is Katie, his younger sister. And here's Blake and Derek, my other two sons.”

The teen girl with long blond hair smiled shyly at her while the two Anderson-like brothers grinned and ribbed each other.

“Nice to meet you but what are you doing here?” Jennifer asked while Mrs. Michaels gave her a sturdy handshake. “Where's Anderson?”

“I can explain,” Mrs. Michaels said. “He had to go to a meeting this morning, so he called me yesterday and told me about helping you out here and got me all excited about volunteering. He opened the gate for us. I corralled the whole family and a few friends to come and help. My husband, Andrew, is already down at the barn with several very experienced men, working on a plan to get things cleaned up and ready to rebuild.”

“I can't do any reconstruction on the barn until I get clearance from the insurance company and they cut me a check,” Jennifer said. “But I do appreciate the help.”

And just wait until she saw Anderson Michaels. The man could have warned her or
asked
her, at least, before bringing in reinforcements.

“We won't mess that up,” Mrs. Michaels replied, her brown eyes full of mirth. She tugged at her old University of Texas Longhorns sweatshirt. “But we
are
here to help out. Now I have us divided into three teams. You just tell us what needs to be done. We're here for the day and me and the other ladies from our Sensational Seniors group brought a picnic lunch to feed everyone.”

Jennifer looked around at the eager, expectant faces,
tears pricking at her eyes. “I don't know what to say, except thanks, Mrs. Michaels.”

“Call me Ramona,” Anderson's perky little mother said, taking Jennifer by the arm. “Anderson told me you've had a tough time of things lately. He must think highly of you to volunteer like this.” She leaned close and whispered, “That man lives for his work most days.”

If you only knew,
Jennifer thought. But she didn't have the heart to say anything bad about Anderson to his mother. “He's been an asset around here lately,” she replied, thinking that was as close to the truth as she could allow for now.

Knowing his meeting must be about this case, she didn't dare ask his mother for any further information.

“I'll show you what needs to be done,” she said, thinking of the leaves that needed raking and the shrubs and bushes that needed to be cleared. Now that the gators had a new home, Jennifer wanted to move some of the sea turtles she'd rescued from the gulf after a recent hurricane into the smaller watering hole near the main house. With all these willing people, she could probably get that done today, too. It would take her mind off the darkness and danger she felt at every turn.

“Okay,” she said, her brain already organizing and compartmentalizing this added blessing. “Here's what I need done.”

 

It didn't take long for the whole Michaels clan to dig in and get to work. By noon, Jennifer could understand where Anderson got his work ethic. His folks were nice,
rowdy, loving and hardworking. A wonderful example of a good, solid Christian family.

Thinking she'd have to thank Anderson when she saw him, she couldn't be mad at the man. He'd done her a great service and it touched her heart. Most of the time, she only heard stories of her friends' families. Today, she'd been given a gift of actually seeing a loving family in action. Even while deeply engrossed in her work, Jennifer had stopped now and then to watch Anderson's two handsome younger brothers roughhousing with each other, their sister breaking them apart with a stern scolding that belied the twinkle in her pretty eyes. And she'd seen his mother taking charge with firm but pleasant suggestions and orders to everyone while his quiet father stood by, solidly backing his wife and adding his own advice.

She hated to see them leave at the end of the day.

Telling herself to be grateful for a gift from God, Jennifer didn't think past that. She refused to dream about being a part of Anderson's life.

No matter how wonderful his mother's no-meat lasagna had tasted at lunch.

 

Later that afternoon, Anderson waved goodbye to his folks and walked back up onto the porch to stand beside Jennifer. “You okay?” he asked, watching for signs of her stubbornness.

“I am now,” she said, her gaze moving over the clean, spiffed-up compound. “I hadn't even noticed fall until today. Your family and friends did such a good job. I mean, look at those pumpkins they placed all around.
And the fresh haystacks, too. It makes me think of Thanksgiving and pumpkin pie.”

She looked rested and content in spite of the long day's work and the things she'd been through over the last week.

“My mama gave me specific instructions to tell you that you're welcome at our place anytime. And I agree with her,” Anderson said.

“I'll think about that later,” she said, whirling to go inside. “After you crack this case and I know I can finally enjoy life again.”

Anderson tugged her back around. “I told you about the lead we got on the guy in the coma. That's a big deal, Jennifer. I hope we'll soon have a name. It's the break we needed.”