Divine Justice (17 page)
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she held her son’s hand. “Danny, what the hell happened? Who did this to you?”
He murmured, “Just an accident, Ma. Don’t worry. I’ll be good to go. Took better hits on Friday game nights.”
Abby looked at Stone. “An accident?”
He shook his head.
The doctor said, “We need to get him admitted and have some tests run. He seems stable now, but he may have internal bleeding.”
“Will he be okay?” Abby said anxiously.
“Ma’am, we need to run some tests. We’ll take good care of him. And we’ll let you know how he is.”
A moment later they whisked him away.
Abby stood there, teetering a bit. Stone put an arm around her shoulders and led her to a chair in the waiting area.
“He said it was an accident.”
“It was no accident. Three men. Big and mean with baseball bats.”
“How do you know that?”
Stone didn’t answer her immediately. Something had just occurred to him. One of the men he’d beaten up had looked familiar. He tried to think where he’d seen him, but couldn’t place him.
“Ben?”
“What? Oh, because they came after me when they were done with Danny.”
“How’d you get away?”
Stone touched his waistline. “It cost me my belt, but I hurt two of them pretty bad. One of them got away. I need to call Tyree and report it. Do you have his number?”
She handed him her phone and he made the call.
After he explained things to the sheriff and described the men and their truck, he nodded at something Tyree said. “Right, we’ll be here,” he replied.
Stone handed the phone back to Abby. “He’s going to come here to get a statement after he checks out the crime scene.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.” But there was a hollow ring to her words that puzzled Stone.
“When I called you didn’t sound all that surprised that someone had attacked Danny.”
She didn’t look at him.
“Abby, I know I’m a stranger here, but I saw those guys up close and personal. If Danny hadn’t managed to throw himself out of the truck, he’d be dead. And they might come back to finish the job.”
She touched her eyes with one of her hands, brushing away the tears. “There’s some things been going on in Divine. Strange things.”
“Like what? Was that why Danny left? And now someone’s upset he’s back?”
“I don’t know why he left. He wouldn’t tell me.”
“Abby, I saw Danny crying his heart out over the top of Debby Randolph’s grave.”
She looked at him strangely. “Debby Randolph?”
“Yes. Did he know her? Did he love her?”
“They dated a couple times in high school. But she was Willie’s girl now.”
“How did she die?”
“Committed suicide. With a shotgun in a little shed behind her parents’ house.”
“Why would she have killed herself?”
“I don’t know. I guess she was depressed. Tyree’s looking into it.”
“But right after she died, Danny left Divine?” Abby balled a tissue between her fingers and nodded slowly. “Did he ever mention Debby to you recently?”
“No.” She dabbed at her eyes again.
“So what strange things are you talking about?”
“Just things.”
“Abby, can’t you be more specific?”
“There was a murder right before Danny left.”
“Murder? Who?”
“Fellow named Rory Peterson.”
“I saw his grave too. Who murdered him?”
“Don’t know. Tyree’s still looking at that one too.”
“Who was Peterson?”
“An accountant. He also helped run the town fund.”
“Town fund?”
“Divine has been through enough booms and busts so we decided to try a different approach. Everybody kicked in some money, businesses, regular folks. I put in more than most because I had more money. We put it all in an investment account and it’s done real well. Rory did the books. The fund pays out quarterly dividends. It’s been a godsend to folks around town. Kept businesses going that otherwise wouldn’t be able to make a go of it. Allowed folks to keep their houses, pay off their debt, survive the lean times.”
“You said Peterson did the books. Was he maybe skimming and somebody didn’t like that?”
“I don’t know. I know Rory had some contacts in New York. That was where he was from originally. That was another reason the fund was doing so well. He got us piggybacked on some of those private equity people’s investments up there. At least that’s what he said. Hitting stuff out of the park, at least according to the dividends I get.”
“Would Danny be mixed up in that somehow? Or Debby?”
“Don’t see how. Danny’s never been what you’d call financially savvy. His interests are a lot more basic. Debby was an artist. She had nothing to do with the fund.”
“Well, those guys tonight didn’t seem like the Wall Street types either.”
Abby’s phone buzzed. She answered it and then passed it across to Stone. “It’s Tyree,” she said.
The sheriff said, “Ben, I went to the place you said. Nobody was there. Didn’t find nothing. No bats, no blood, no belt.”
“They must’ve come back and cleaned it all up.”
“How’s Danny?”
“Getting some tests run.”
“Did you ask him who did it?”
“He said it was an accident.”
“And you’re sure it wasn’t?”
“Not unless you categorize three guys with baseball bats doing you bodily harm an accident.”
“I’m heading over to talk to Danny. How’s Abby?”
Stone glanced at her. “She’s holding up.”
Stone passed back the phone. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee, you want one?”
She shook her head and tried to smile. “No thanks. I’m just going to stay planted here until they tell me Danny’s going to be okay.”
Stone walked off looking for a vending machine, stretching out his sore arm as he did so. Then the rather obvious occurred to him. Willie Coombs was still here.
Crack and pinpoint pupils. And now Danny beaten nearly to death. And a dead woman in the middle of it all.
The coffee could wait. He needed to talk to Willie.
K
NOX’S CELL PHONE BUZZED.
The caller ID came up as blocked. He hesitated and then answered it.
“Hello?”
It took a second for Knox to place the caller’s voice. “Finn?”
“I thought about what you said and I thought you might want to know something.”
Knox snatched a small notebook off the kitchen island and uncapped a pen. “I’m listening.”
“I
was
at the Visitor Center with Stone. That won’t come as a surprise to the folks at CIA. Carter Gray was there too, as was Senator Simpson.”
“What were you all doing there? Having a pre-opening party?”
“We were doing an exchange. My son for Senator Simpson.”
Knox caught a breath. “CIA snatched your kid?”
“And we grabbed a U.S. senator in return.”
“Why Simpson?”
“He, Gray and Stone have a history. Not a good one.”
“I didn’t think they were all best buds.”
“Anyway, we did the exchange, gave Gray all he wanted, including a cell phone with a recording on it that Stone had.”
“What was the recording of?”
“Don’t know. But whatever it was, it’s the reason Gray resigned his post as intelligence czar.”
“Some dirt?”
“Seems to be.”
“I take it after the exchange was made they weren’t going to let you walk away?”
“You could say that Gray had a different idea as to how we were going to leave the place.”
Knox was writing fast and scribbling questions in the margins. “Let me ask something. Was Milton Farb a casualty in this little skirmish?”
“He’s dead, isn’t he? Stone was getting us all out on a prearranged route. He knew Gray would try and screw him so he had a backup plan. But while we were getting out of there, Milton was killed by one of Gray’s men. Stone didn’t leave after that. He went back in.” Finn paused. “I went with him.”
“Why?”
“He saved my son. He saved me along with everyone I cared about. I owed him.”
“Okay. I can see that.” Knox clenched the top of the pen between his teeth.
“One more thing. Before Simpson left the building he called out something to Stone.”
“What was that?”
“He told him that he’d been the one to order the hit on Stone and his family when Stone was with Triple Six and Simpson was with CIA. His wife was killed and his daughter just disappeared during the hit. Stone got away and he’s been on the run ever since. They took everything he had, Knox. Everything.”
“Why would they want to torpedo one of their own?”
“He wanted out. He’d had enough. Only they didn’t want him to leave,” Finn said simply.
Knox settled down in a chair and peered out the window into his small front yard as he digested this. “Why are you telling me all this?”
“Two reasons. Owing to something that happened a long time ago involving Gray and Simpson, my family and I are bulletproof so far as the U.S. government is concerned. They’re not coming after us no matter what I say or don’t say.”
“Yeah, I got that impression. And the second reason?”
“I’ve still got contacts on the inside and I checked you out. I peg you as a good guy in a tough spot. You may need a lifeline more than anybody before this is all over.”
“I hope you’re wrong but I appreciate the assist.”
“Here’s another one. If you are trying to find Oliver Stone, I’m not going to wish you luck.”
“I can understand that.”
“It’s not just for the reason you think.”
“Come again?”
“That night at the Capitol Visitor Center he had a thirty-year-old sniper rifle and a shitty scope. There was a seasoned CIA paramilitary force on the other side loaded for bear with a six-to-one advantage over us. We walked out, they didn’t. I’ve never seen anything like it, Knox, and I was a SEAL who pulled time in just about every flame point there is in the world. Oliver Stone is the most stand-up guy you’ll ever meet. He’ll never let you down. He’s a man of his word and he’ll lay down his life for his friends without hesitation. But with a gun or knife in his hand the guy’s no longer human. He knows ways to kill people I’ve never even heard of. So if you do run into him the chances are pretty high that you won’t be the one walking away. Just thought you ought to know.”
Finn clicked off and Knox sat there looking out his window, his pen now making nonsensical doodles on the paper.
This intelligence from Finn, while compelling and interesting, should not have made a difference to Knox insofar as his mission was concerned.
But it did.
It had come as no shock to Knox that his agency had less than clean hands. That was just the nature of the business. But though Knox was a veteran of the intelligence world, there was something in his gut—perhaps as deep as his soul—that had recoiled in anger with every fact that Finn had revealed about John Carr and how his country had repeatedly ripped the man’s life apart.
There was right and wrong, although those lines got blurred all the time. Justice and injustice too were often all over the place, he knew. There were no easy answers and whatever road you took, be it the high, low or more likely somewhere in between, half the people would hate the result and half would applaud. And the hell of the thing was in a way they’d both be right.
However, as Knox dwelled on all this, it seemed to him that John Carr, no matter what he might have done on that rainy, gray morning a few days ago, deserved to live out his life as a free man, but that was not Knox’s decision to make. His investigator mind told him to verify what he’d been told. Then he would just have to see.
V
ISITING HOURS
at the hospital were long over, but Stone found a sympathetic nurse who let him into the ward after he explained his connection.
“That’s right,” the nurse said. “Doc Warner mentioned that. Who would’ve thought to use a car engine to start somebody’s heart?”
Somebody who’s been in a war
.
Willie was propped up in the bed and hooked up to an IV drip. Other cables connected to his body ran to a monitor where lines and numbers darted across.
When Stone walked in Willie opened his eyes and said, “Who the hell are you?”
“Ben. I helped your grandfather get you here.”
Willie put out a hand. “Gramps told me about that. I guess I owe you my life.”
“You look like you’re doing better.”
“Don’t feel all that much better.”
“Did they tell you how long you’ll be in here?”
“No. I still don’t know what the hell happened.”
“You overdosed.”
“I know I did. I just don’t know
how
I did it.”
“So what’d they find in your bloodstream?”
“Docs said oxycodone along with some other stuff.”
“That would do it.”
“But I didn’t have any. That shit is expensive unless you got a prescription. You’re talking a couple hundred bucks a pill on the street.”
Stone pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. Willie Coombs had longish brown hair and a good-looking face though tiny lines were already massing around his eyes and lips. He looked like Danny Riker, only more worn. “All right, what did you have and what did you take?”
“Hey, you some kind of undercover cop?”
“Well, if I were it’d be a pretty clear case of entrapment.”
Willie let out a long sigh. “I’m too tired to give a shit. What I usually do is get me some fentanyl patches, shuck ’em in two, squeeze out the juice, cook it up and inject it in my feet. Gives you a nice pop, like heroin.”
“Fentanyl? China white, right?” Stone said.
“You sound like you know your drugs.”
“You said that’s what you
usually
do?”
“Prescription ran out. So I just got me some run-of-the-mill street crack. Never had no trouble like this.”
“Bob told me it was crack.”
Willie looked surprised. “Well, if he told you, why the hell ask me?”
“I always like to confirm things with a corroborating source.”
“You sure you ain’t a cop?”
“Not even close. But crack is a stimulant. Your pupils would have been seven or eight millimeters, not pinpoints.”
