Carnosaur Crimes (21 page)

Chapter 26

“Never go to sleep when your meat is on fire.”

Pueblo

Reid shot through the second floor exit door and started down the stairs toward the lobby. He'd bounded down half a flight before realizing that the pounding footsteps he heard were actually above him. Dammit. What kind of moron ran away from cops by going upstairs?

Just as he started back up, Standback bulleted through the door onto the second floor landing, gave Reid a sour glance, then bounded ahead of him up the stairway toward Cyrus' fleeing form. Reid cursed and took the steps two at a time, reclaiming lost ground.

The sound of an opening third floor doorway echoed through the stairwell. Flynn had gone back into the hotel. On instinct, Reid shot back through the second floor entrance and down the hall. His planned for Standback to tail Flynn while he cut the jailbird off at the opposite end.

Reid sprinted past knots of hotel hawkers and the man still lying on the floor. An old timer wearing boxer shorts yelled at him as he jumped over the unconscious cowboy, sprinted down the east hallway and slammed through the door into the stairwell. He was up the steps and through the third floor entrance in moments. This hallway was blissfully quiet and he sped down it, seeing no sign of Flynn or Standback. Suddenly Standback veered around a corner of the elevator foyer. Standback saw Reid and looked doubly exasperated.

“Where have you been? He's on the elevator.” He darted past Reid toward the stairwell.

Reid shot into step behind him. “I'll handle this. He's my suspect.”

“Who says?” The agent hit the door hard and headed pell-mell down the stairs.

“I'm working the Chief Flynn case. This is his nephew.”

Reid matched Standback's speed, and they flew down the stairs side by side. Parker held the inside railing and a distinct advantage around the turns. They made the stairwell turn just beneath the second floor landing.

“It belongs to the FBI now.”

“In your dreams, Standback”

“Just stay out my way, Dorbandt.”

Reid grinned. He knew something that was going to work to his advantage. Once they hit the ground floor, Standback raced toward the stairwell door, bee-lining for the lobby elevators.

Reid hesitated a few seconds, allowing the agent to take the lead. That's what he wanted. As Standback tore into a hallway leading to the front desk, he stopped, turned around, and went out the first floor street exit. From there he coursed past the front side of the hotel and around a corner into the darker reaches of the rear parking lot.

The foul smell of rotting fish wafted into his face from the overfilled dumpster next to the kitchen entrance as he raced over asphalt, his eyes scouring the area for signs of danger. He saw his sedan and the Jeep but there was no sign of anybody, especially Cyrus. Reid slowed to a walk and pulled his gun out. Maybe the guy was faster than they thought and had already gotten into the Jeep. Once inside, Cyrus could pull a weapon from anywhere.

The sound of an ambulance siren out front wailed over the hotel roof line. Reid shook his head. The place would be a zoo in a few moments, plenty of opportunity for Cyrus to melt into the confusion and slip through a two-man search team. Where was Outerbridge?

Reid walked carefully up to his car, using the vehicle as a shield between him and the Jeep, with his gun ready. As he moved closer and could see inside the Jeep, he realized that nothing looked amiss. Everything was closed and locked. Nobody inside or under the vehicle. It looked like Cyrus hadn't headed this way.

The thought that Standback may have collared the con in the lobby made him hitch up his mouth in disgust. Worse yet, what if that little weasel had eluded them? Cyrus knew what had happened to Cullen Flynn. He had his uncle's Jeep. Reid knew that he should have muscled Cyrus at the house when he had his chance. Leaned on him until he popped.

Soft footsteps coming across the asphalt jarred Reid into action. He crouched beside the Jeep's passenger door and pressed himself against it with his pistol gripped in both hands, cocked and ready. The footsteps moved around the hood of his sedan and down the length of the Jeep's driver side opposite him.

Reid licked his lips, every fiber of his body listening and evaluating the movement of shoe leather on gritty asphalt only eight feet away. When he felt that the moment was right, he leaped up, located his target, and pointed the gun across the roof.

“Hold it right there or I'll shoot.”

Standback, brown face criss-crossed with dread, stood across from him, his own gun raised uselessly in mid-air. When he recognized Reid, his lips puckered with disdain.

“Bang, you're dead,” Reid said, enjoying the moment.

“Very funny.” Standback re-holstered his gun in a left shoulder strap. “You'd be dead if I didn't shoot the other guy first. We're even.” He glanced at the inside of the Jeep. “Chief Flynn's missing car. When did you find it?”

Reid pushed his gun into his holster and walked to his sedan. “Thirty minutes ago. It was right under your nose. Looks like I've been one step ahead of you.”

“Did you happen to see the perp while you were cavorting around the parking lot?”

“Not a red hair. You?”

Standback stood beside him. “Nothing. He's gone.”

“How could you loose him in an elevator?”

“He stopped it mid-floor. By the time I got back to the second floor, he'd taken the elevator up to the third. By the time I got up there, he was a ghost. I even checked the roof. I came out here hoping to lock onto him again. Where the hell were you?”

“Right here waiting for Cyrus Flynn to show up, of course. Outerbridge is going to pitch a shoe over this.”

“Sheriff Combs isn't exactly going to give you a commendation.”

Reid smirked. “Oh, I don't know. I found the Jeep. Once my department examines its contents, we may have a lot to go on. Too bad for you.”

“Mind telling me what you're doing at this hotel in the first place?”

“Just came to Billings to get a photo of the museum poacher's face. I don't suppose your team has identified him yet, right?”

Standback got serious. “To tell you the truth, he hasn't been a high priority.”

“I guess that's a no,” Reid said. “Well, you'll find out all about it anytime now. I brought the skull here to be digitally re-constructed a few days ago. The facial photo has already hit the police networks, especially the reservation computer banks. We should get this little loose end tied up for you Feebees in no time.”

“You know, all this macho, competitive repartee is getting old, Dorbandt. You have a personal problem with me?”

“Wrong question, Standback.” Reid crossed his arms.

“What's the right question?”

“Is Ansel Phoenix going to have a problem with you?”

Standback shifted his feet and cocked his head sideways. “What's Ansel to you?”

Reid scratched his temple, looked at the ground, then glared back. “I'm a friend. Just want to know what she's been doing here with you.”

“She's working with our task force. Since you've blundered into our operation, I'm sure Outerbridge will tie up that loose end for your sheriff's department.” He walked away.

Reid didn't move. “I'm not done.”

“Well, friend, I think you are.”

Reid didn't like what he was feeling because he wasn't sure what it was. Envy? Jealousy? It didn't make any sense. Where was he going with this? Ansel was an adult. She had her own life. And he had the promise of Chloe coming into his. He was way out of line and he knew it, but the words just tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them.

“Don't hurt her or you'll answer to me,” he called across the parking lot as Standback went to the lobby entrance.

The Indian didn't respond until he had one hand on the glass door. Then he turned slowly. “You're a good detective, Dorbandt, but a lousy realist. Ansel couldn't be any safer with anyone but me unless she was with you, which she's obviously not.” He was gone in seconds.

Reid spun around and punched his fist against the door of his car, wishing it was Standback's face, then grimaced in pain. He spent the next minute shaking his hand and flexing his aching fingers. He felt like a fool.

All right if Ansel had been with Standback there was nothing he could do about it. He told her to come on Outerbridge's mission. He'd also told her to keep in touch, which she hadn't. Deliberate evasion or not, she'd apparently been attracted to Standback during their time together. Maybe because he was Indian, and that was something he could never ever change in himself.

Two tan-uniformed men came around the hotel corner and spotted him. They approached him cautiously, hands on their belt holsters. “Excuse me, sir,” said the young, fresh-faced one. “What are you doing back here?”

“I'm Detective Dorbandt. Lacrosse County Sheriff's Department. I'm going to reach for my badge.” He pulled his wallet from his inside jacket and flashed his shield. “I need you guys to stay here and guard the Jeep. It's a stolen vehicle and evidence in my case. A perp associated with the shooting inside may try to get to it. Keep an eye out. I'll be back in a bit. I'm going to leave my car here, too.” He replaced the wallet and pulled out his cell phone.

The cops nodded, radioed their position via shoulder radios, and took positions around the Jeep as he walked toward the lobby entrance. He hastily dialed the main number at the Lacrosse station and talked to the desk Sergeant, catching him up to speed with what had happened in Billings. Primarily, he was going to work with the local sheriff's department to seize and impound Chief Flynn's car since it was no longer occupied by a suspect and had been left in a public place.

From there, the news that Cullen's Jeep had been found and that Cyrus Flynn and another man, as yet unidentified, were possibly involved in the Chief's disappearance would filter up and down the chain of command. Soon a felony warrant for running from an officer would be issued for Cyrus Flynn.

Reid also received information back. There was only one pressing message. Odie had done his homework on Carigliano and Allied Beef. The Sergeant delivered a summarized version of the important info, and Reid listened with total concentration. The news was quite illuminating, and he licked his lips in anticipation. Agent Outerbridge and he needed to talk.

His last instructions to the Sergeant were to have Odie start the ball rolling on an affidavit for a search warrant on Cyrus' house and car, and to contact him as soon as he came on duty in a few hours. Reid closed the conversation by promising to be back in Mission City as soon as possible. He wanted to be back in Lacrosse for the house bust. Silently, he cursed.

There was no way he could make that seven-thirty breakfast with Chloe.

Chapter 27

“Listening to a liar is like drinking warm water.”

Tribe Unknown

Ansel watched from her room as the paramedics lifted the cowboy onto a stretcher and strapped him in. The hall was littered with medical equipment and excited people swarmed the area: EMTs, police, sheriff deputies, hotel security or staff, and curious onlookers.

Outerbridge had arrived a few minutes after Dixie's phone call. He conferred with her briefly, then hustled over to stand guard beside Jessie Frost while Walthers, who'd apparently been called away from surveillance, kept the crowd away. Dixie had avoided her at all costs, slinking toward the far corner of the hallway behind Outerbridge.

She rubbed her arms and leaned wearily against the doorway to her room. Her eyes felt like sandpaper and her tight clothes chafed at her skin. She needed sleep, even if it had to be in the same room with Dixie. The only thing that kept her standing was hoping Reid would return. They had to talk, and she didn't care what Outerbridge thought.

Ansel saw Parker first. He appeared from the west end of the hall, nodded briefly in her direction, then went straight for Outerbridge who was talking to a police Sergeant. Her heart sank. By the scowling expression on his face, it looked like he hadn't apprehended Cyrus. At least he was safe. When Outerbridge saw Parker, he pulled him aside and began an animated conversation that didn't look pleasant.

Ten minutes later, Reid pushed through the crowd. At least he was uninjured, too. He'd almost been shot right before her eyes. By the time he reached her through the throng, his expression was stony. No matter his frame of mind, she had to tell him what she'd found out about Operation Dragon. It might help locate Chief Flynn.

Without thinking, Ansel stepped forward and hugged him. “Thank God, you're all right. I thought that thug was going to shoot you. Did Cyrus escape?”

Reid stiffened in her embrace and pulled away. “You know Cyrus Flynn?”

“Of course. He's Cullen's nephew. He pushed me into the pond when I was five.”

Reid shook his head. “Wow, I had no idea.”

“There's no reason you should. I never told you. You didn't catch him?”

“I will.”

“Reid, what are you doing here in the first place?” Ansel demanded.

He looked around the hall. “We need privacy. This way.” Abruptly, he steered her through the open bedroom door.

He didn't answer her question, but she suspected what was coming. “Listen, I would have called you, but...”

“I don't care about that.”

“What's wrong?”

Reid released her forearm and shut the door. The hubbub from the hallway became a dull drone. “I want you out of this fiasco right now. I'll tell Outerbridge you're leaving. You'll ride back to Lacrosse with me.”

Ansel wasn't surprised, considering what had happened, but did she want to leave Parker so soon?

“Reid, I think I should see this through. I can learn more information about what's going on. I don't expect you to stay.”

His face darkened. “It's too dangerous. Things are going down that you're not aware of.”

“I wouldn't doubt that, but I've already found out some of Outerbridge's little secrets.”

“Such as?”

“The microchip. It came from inside one of the gray rings all the ERT are wearing. They're actually dosimeters used to measure high-level radiation.”

“I already know that. The chip analysis came back last night.”

“But I know why they're wearing them. They're worried about high radium counts. Some of the fossils stolen from Utah sites are dangerously contaminated with uranium deposits. Exposure to a cache of these bones for more than one minute can kill people, Reid, and they're not even concerned about anything but themselves. The important thing is, if Chief Flynn was taken by poachers, he could be exposed and suffer from radiation poisoning.”

Reid shook his head. “I think Chief Flynn may have bigger problems then radiation sickness or poachers, Ansel.”

“What are you talking about?”

A heavy knock sounded at the door, and both of them gazed at the barrier suspiciously. Reid finally reached out and opened it. Agent Outerbridge stared at them omnisciently. “Am I interrupting something?”

Reid frowned. “As a matter of fact, you are.”

“Tough.” He walked into the room. “Close the door, Detective. Time for a little chat.”

Reid looked at Ansel. “You'd better wait outside.”

Ansel crossed her arms. “No, thank you. I have a few things to discuss myself.”

“Since you two obviously know each other, I think you should stay,” Outerbridge agreed. “Especially since both of you have compromised my sting operation and put my task force in jeopardy.”

Ansel didn't like the way Outerbridge stared at her in particular. She knew why he was singling her out, and her cheeks flared red. Parker. God, if Outerbridge knew that she'd spent part of the night with the pilot, Reid would blow a gasket. She didn't dare leave without being able to defend herself.

Reid's grin was flat. “Which operation? The fossil smuggling rouse you've pandered to Ansel or the real one?”

Outerbridge's head snapped toward him. “The only FBI mission I'm in charge of is called Operation Dragon. My task force is working under the direction of the Department of Justice, and we're investigating a fossil poaching ring operating throughout Montana, Utah, and Wyoming. That's it period.”

“Bullshit,” Reid insisted.

Outerbridge pursed his lips. “Anything else you've heard is wrong, Lieutenant Dorbandt. You've just exposed an FBI presence in this area with your Lone Ranger act out in the hallway. Thanks to you, I'll be lucky if I can complete the illegal fossil buy I've worked hard to accomplish for months. I'll be discussing that with Sheriff Combs and the State Attorney.”

The threat flew over Reid's head. “I'll loan you the quarters, Outerbridge. I have every right to pursue suspects who have stolen a Lacrosse County police Chief's vehicle, pulled a weapon on a sheriff's officer, committed an aggravated assault on a civilian, and run from law enforcement during an arrest. Quit blowing smoke up my ass.”

Ansel had listened to all the posturing she could take. “Wait a minute. What other FBI operation are you talking about, Reid?”

The stare Reid flashed at Outerbridge was hotter than a branding iron. “The one probably cooked up by the U.S. Attorney in Washington. Tell us about Frank Carigliano.”

Outerbridge didn't twitch a muscle, but Ansel could see the cogs turning. She knew that anything coming out of his mouth would be a lie.

“You're way off base. I don't know him,” he said.

Ansel focused on Reid. “Who is he?”

“Carigliano is the operation director of Swoln Stockyards where Cyrus Flynn works. I just found out from Montana Department of Criminal Investigation files that in 1999 Carigliano was suspected of calling the shots for the beating-murder of a deputy county attorney from Sidney whose body was dumped across the North Dakota line. Nothing was ever proved, but five witnesses fingered him, two of them drug dealers.”

Outerbridge simply shrugged. “That has nothing to do with Operation Dragon.”

“I'm not done. The murdered attorney, Lewis Lovell, was involved with a local banker in a money-laundering scheme. Sicilian mafia drug monies were siphoned into the bank and processed out to purchase stolen objects of art, antiquities, and fossils. Converting illegal cash assets into legitimized collectibles with a history and verifiable pedigree was a good business until Lovell wanted out and threatened to expose the whole scam.” He stared at the agent. “The illegal fossil dealing is right up your avenue.”

Outerbridge snorted. “So what?”

“Swoln Stockyards is owned by a dummy corp called Allied Beef Exchange. Tracing the real owners is like unraveling a bird's nest, but the corporate trail goes out of the country through Helena, then into Canada. From Canada it goes to Vancouver, British Columbia and heads toward the Caribbean, probably to a mafia cartel operating in Belize. Mafia drugs like cocaine, heroin, and marijuana coming into this country take the reverse route from Canada, then land in Chinook, Montana for distribution throughout the U.S., Mexico, and Latin America.”

“Still has nothing to do with my task force,” Outerbridge insisted.

The startling wealth of information Ansel had heard caused her head to spin, but certain facts stuck in her brain like colored tacks. She pinned Outerbridge with her own stare. “So who's Jessie Frost?”

Reid's head twisted toward Ansel. “You know Jessup Frost?”

Ansel watched the FBI man before speaking. He was nervous, unconsciously rubbing his right thumb across his index finger. “No. I overheard Dixie telling Outerbridge that Parker shot Jessie Frost. Obviously the FBI knows who he is. Let me guess. He's a poacher digging up bones for eventual sale to the mafia, isn't he?”

Outerbridge swallowed. “I'm not allowed to answer that. It's restricted information.” He turned and headed for the door.

“I went to the Dawson County College where the T-Rex foot was stolen,” Ansel continued. “A librarian told me that a man with red hair and a beard had been there a few days before the robbery. I didn't think anything about it until now. It was Cyrus Flynn. He was casing the place. Both of them obviously work together since they're at this hotel. Probably came to Billings because of our Allosaurus sale through Accent on Antiquities.”

The agent ignored her, but Reid's smile was broad as he watched Outerbridge try to make an escape. He had the agent by the scruff of the neck. “I'll tell you who Frost is, Ansel. He's a foreman at Swoln Stockyards and an ex-con heavy into methamphetamine like Cyrus. You think the Feds didn't know that? Or about Carigliano and Allied Beef? This is all about drugs. We've been suckered.”

Ansel was furious. She'd opted to help the FBI because she believed she was saving plundered fossils, not to be used for some backdoor poaching bust when the real agenda was to trap drug runners through a lesser felony charge. Like convicting Capone on IRS tax evasion crimes rather than for being a multi-murderer.

As Outerbridge reached for the door knob, Ansel stepped up behind him. “I want the truth. Is this operation nothing but a Department of Justice ploy to go after a drug cartel?”

The agent spun around. His face was bright red, and he fixed her with a glare. “All right, Miss Phoenix. I'm not ashamed of doing my job any way I can. Operation Dragon is a double-edged sword. We're after a fossil poaching ring that sells its stolen goods to a drug cartel and gives them a way to hide their illegal cash assets. Hopefully, we'll bring down a two-headed monster: a fossil smuggling ring and a drug pipeline. As far as I'm concerned, a felony is a felony. I don't care how I get one as long as it sticks.”

“You should have been honest,” Ansel parried.

“If you're squeamish about details, then you were just giving me lip service when you spouted your indignance over black market bone smuggling. Either you want to stop the destruction of fossil artifacts or you don't. Fortunately, equivocation about the methodology isn't an option in my line of work.”

The rebuke shocked Ansel, but didn't negate her outrage over the deception. “I get it. That Great White you told me you wanted to filet is a big drug player. That's why fossil dealers like Billy De Shequette at Accent on Antiquities will skate past felony charges if they rat out the mafia drones buying bones from them for the money laundering scam.”

Reid jumped in. “Exactly. Want to tell us who the big fish is you're after?” When Outerbridge failed to answer, he said, “I'll guess. It's the high ranking state official in Helena that Attorney Lewis Lovell threatened to expose before he was set up to die by Carigliano.”

A light went off in Ansel's head. She gazed at the agent who stood stonily by the door. “When you gave me your pitch about the operation, you told me that the fossil poachers sold a T-Rex skeleton for four million dollars to somebody. Who was that?”

Outerbridge shrugged. “A Dutch corporate businessman.”

Ansel sighed. “Was the skeleton radioactive?”

A tic jumped on Outerbridge's left cheek. “We believe so. You don't expect a cartel to care about what happens to people, do you? It's all about money with this scum.”

“Hokay, somebody was the go-between for an international black-market sale of that magnitude. Who brokered the deal stateside?” Reid demanded.

“I don't know.”

Reid moved up to Outerbridge's face. “You might as well tell me. Sheriff Combs can phone the U.S. Attorney of Montana, too. Right now you're withholding information that could lead to the identification of felons who may have Chief Cullen Flynn as a hostage. You're actions are obstructing justice and interfering with a major county investigation. Play ball with me, Outerbridge.”

Outerbridge held his features rigid for several long moments, then his line-etched face relaxed. “I'll tell you on one condition. Information goes both ways. I understand you have Chief Flynn's missing Jeep under sheriff's guard down in the parking lot. I could confiscate it because it's part of my investigation, but I don't need the hassle. I want copies of all the Lacrosse county forensics and vehicle contents reports on the Jeep sent to me electronically. I also saw the digital, reconstruction photo of the museum poacher's face, but don't know who he is or how he fits into all this so I want to know immediately what you get back from your tips and sources.”

Ansel's mouth dropped open. “You have his picture?” she asked Reid.

“That's why I'm in Billings. It's been in circulation for several hours now.” He glanced at the agent. “It's a deal. Now who is the prime target from Helena you're going to bring down?”