Divine Justice (27 page)
“Caleb, I’m so sorry.” She gently squeezed his shoulder.
A few moments of silence passed.
“Hey, I really got you, didn’t I?”
She glanced back over at him. He was smiling broadly.
“Come on, Richard Petty’s protégé? Me?”
“You made that all up? You shit!” She smacked him on the shoulder hard. But there was admiration in her features.
“What? You think you’re the only one who can lie really well? I’ve spent my adult life surrounded by stories at the library, Annabelle. I can ‘fiction’ with the best of them.”
“That still doesn’t explain how you can drive like this.”
“I grew up on the side of a mountain in Pennsylvania. First thing I ever drove was a Bobcat down a dirt road that would make this stretch of gravel look like the Autobahn.” He paused. “And I did do some stock car racing when I turned eighteen. Mostly junk on dirt tracks. But after my third near-fatal accident, I decided to go into library science. But I’m still a big NASCAR fan.”
“Caleb, I’m seeing a totally new side to you.”
“Yes, well, everyone has their secrets.”
“The Camel Club more than most, I’m finding.”
S
TONE OPENED HIS EYES
and felt rather than saw the people around him.
“Ben?”
He turned to the right and focused on Abby standing there, holding his hand. He gazed over her shoulder and realized he was in a hospital room.
“What the hell happened?” he said, trying to rise up.
Abby and someone else gently pushed him back down.
“Just take it easy, Ben.”
This was Tyree, who was standing on the other side of the bed.
Stone leaned back against the pillow. “What happened?” he said again.
“What do you remember?” Abby asked.
“Driving Willie home and then waking up here.”
“It blew up,” Tyree said quietly. “His trailer, I mean. It blew up.”
“Willie? Bob? He was there too.”
Abby gripped his hand. “They’re both dead.” Her voice broke as she said this.
“How did it happen?”
“They think it was his propane tank. Only thing that could’ve blown like that,” Tyree said. “Another few feet and you would’ve been gone too. You’re lucky you were standing on the other side of that truck. It took most of the blast instead of you.”
Stone thought for a moment. “I remember something falling right next to me.”
Abby and Tyree exchanged glances. “Just some debris,” she said quickly.
“How did the gas thing happen?”
“I’m checking that out right now,” said Tyree firmly. “He apparently had a cookstove and some propane tanks in his trailer along with a lot of ammo.”
“I don’t care about that. It can’t be an accident,” said Stone. “It can’t be.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you,” said the sheriff. “I just need some proof.”
Stone managed to sit up a bit. “Wait a minute. On the drive home, Willie and I talked about Debby.” He went on to tell Tyree and Abby what he had figured out about Debby seeing who had killed Peterson.
Tyree rubbed his jaw. “I never saw the connection there, but Willie never told me she was at the bakery that night either. But I knew Debby hadn’t killed herself.”
“How?” asked Stone and Abby together.
“Her arms weren’t long enough to put the muzzle in her mouth and still pull the trigger.”
Stone looked at him with new respect. “I actually thought of that when I saw the shotgun. Willie had shown me a picture of Debby. I saw how petite she was.”
“Tyree, you never mentioned you believed Debby was murdered,” said Abby.
“That’s because I didn’t know who killed her. Or why. Figured it had to be somebody local. Might as well let the murderer think I’m a clueless country bumpkin. He might make a mistake, and it lets me snoop around under the radar too.”
“You’re clearly no country bumpkin,” said Stone, and Tyree gave him an appreciative look.
“Does Danny know about Willie?” asked Stone.
Abby nodded. “He was so upset they had to give him something to calm him down. He was bawling like a baby.”
“No more California dreams,” said Stone.
“What?” asked Tyree.
“Long story,” replied Abby.
“We need to get to work, Tyree, before somebody else gets killed.” Stone started to get up again.
Tyree pushed him back down. “Whoa, now. You just got yourself nearly blown up and the doc says you need to stay quiet for a day or two.”
“We don’t have a day or two.”
“I’m going to poke around some. With what you told me I got some new angles I can work.”
“Danny and Abby need protection,” said Stone.
“Me?” said Abby.
“Look at what happened to Bob. They don’t care who they kill.”
“I agree,” said Tyree. “I got a couple of men I’ve deputized in the past. I’ll have one here with Danny and another with Abby.”
“Tyree, you don’t have to do that.”
“But we’re gonna do it, Abby. Anything happens to you, I couldn’t live with myself. I mean, well, it’s just not going to happen. Understand?”
The strength of his words seemed to surprise even the sheriff. He reddened slightly.
“Okay,” she said meekly.
Stone said, “What are you going to do?”
Tyree sat down and drew up a chair. “You said three men beat up Danny. Now, he won’t talk to me about it but I think at least one of them was a miner.”
“Why?” asked Stone.
“When I came to see Danny at the hospital like I said he zipped his mouth. But that didn’t stop me from looking at his clothes. They had coal dust on them. I figure it came off at least one of the boys who jumped him ’cause Danny’s never been in a mine that I know of.”
“That’s true,” said Abby. “But why would a miner go after Danny?”
“Damn, I knew I’d seen him before,” exclaimed Stone. They both looked at him. “The first day I was at your restaurant. Tyree had left, and Abby, you’d gone in the back. Danny had finished eating and was leaving when this big guy blocked his way. Asked Danny if he was going to stay this time or run out on them again. He’s one of the guys with the baseball bats.”
“This guy have a name?”
Stone thought for a moment. “Lonnie.”
“Lonnie Bruback?”
“Describe him.” Tyree did. “That’s him,” said Stone. “He’ll have a wound on his face from my belt.”
“Lonnie works a floating shift at the Cinch Valley Number Two Mine. I didn’t even know he and Danny hung around with each other.”
“They didn’t as far as I knew,” added Abby. “He’s never come to the house. He’s not, well . . .”
Tyree said, “Abby’s too polite to say that Lonnie is definitely white trash. He’s come my way a few times, petty crap, stealing gas, poaching, and then there’s the addiction thing of course. Thanks for the tip, Ben. I better go check it out.”
“Has anybody told Shirley about Willie and Bob?” Abby said.
“I haven’t, but I expect she knows by now. But I’ll check in with her too.”
“I’d check her real well too, Sheriff,” Stone said.
“You think Shirley’s involved in this somehow?”
“Let me put it this way, you don’t nag your husband about deer hunting only to see him go out and get shot. What are the odds?”
“You think it was premeditated?”
“I wouldn’t necessarily except the shooter was Rory Peterson, who ended up murdered.”
“Right.” Tyree tapped his gun holster with his thumb. “Who’d ever thought the town of Divine would end up like the damn Wild, Wild West?”
He left and Abby pulled her chair closer to Stone and laid a hand on his. “I brought your bag with the clothes I packed for you. It’s in the closet.”
“Thanks, Abby.”
“And I took Danny’s cell phone from your pocket and put it in your nightstand.”
“Won’t Danny need it back?”
“I don’t think he wants to talk to anybody right now.”
“I’m sorry about everything that’s happened to you.”
“I think you’ve suffered a lot more than me.”
“It seems so complicated, I wonder if we’ll ever get to the bottom of it all.”
She looked down as she said this and Stone thought he knew why. “If Danny is involved in something not quite legal, Abby, I’m pretty sure it didn’t involve murder.”
She looked up. “You’re a mind reader too? Sort of unsettling.” She sighed. “I know my son, or at least I think I do. But there’s also the chance he might be involved in something really crazy.”
“Let me tell you something. When those guys on the train came after us again, Danny dropped one of them with a gut shot. The kid was beaten but he punched Danny again. Your son could have landed a haymaker but he didn’t. Said it wasn’t sporting to hit a man when he was down. That doesn’t sound like a cold-blooded killer to me.”
“I lost Sam. I can’t lose Danny too.”
He gripped the woman’s arm and pulled her to him. “You won’t, Abby. I promise.”
R
EUBEN WAS IN TROUBLE.
He’d driven into South Ridge and had nearly run into Joe Knox as the man walked down the streets of the small, plain town. After about an hour, he’d climbed back in his truck and driven off. An excited Reuben had phoned Annabelle and filled her in. Then, on the way out of town while barely keeping Knox in his sights, Reuben had blown a tire on the Indian. He’d pulled off the road and phoned Annabelle again.
“Sit tight, Reuben,” she’d said. “We’re going to finish up the two towns and then we’ll pick you up.”
“Why not come now and we can tail Knox?”
“He’ll be long gone by the time we get there. And if he didn’t find Oliver in South Ridge, we might find him first. What town do you think he’s headed to next?”
Reuben checked the map and looked around to gauge things. “If I had to guess, I’d say this Divine place.”
“Okay, call back if anything else comes up.”
Reuben clicked off, looked sourly at the flat tire and then kicked it. After all these years the Indian had finally let him down. And the thing was he usually carried a spare in the sidecar, but he’d taken it out so he could fit all the crap Annabelle had asked him to bring.
He sat on the side of the road and figured the odds. If this was the first town Knox had cleared, he still had three more to go. So the odds that Oliver was in Divine were one in three. Not great, but not terrible either. He would just have to keep his fingers crossed that Divine didn’t turn out to be the jackpot for the federal agent and a probable death sentence for Oliver.
Melanie Knox had tried calling her father several times. The fact that Joe Knox had not answered or called her back wasn’t surprising. Yet her last conversation with him had left her feeling disturbed. There had been something, well, fatalistic about his comments. A seize-the-moment sort of thing as though he was doubtful there would be many more tomorrows.
On impulse she took a cab to his town house and asked the driver to wait. When she unlocked the door, she was surprised that she didn’t hear the alarm warning sound. Her father was scrupulous about setting the security system when he was away. When she turned on the lights, Melanie had to fight the impulse to scream.
The place had been trashed. Initially she thought it had been broken into and her first inclination was to run out in case the burglars were still here. To be safe she raced back to the cab and explained to the driver what she’d found. She told him that if she wasn’t out in five minutes to call the cops. She hurried back in, picked up a heavy vase in the foyer and moved cautiously forward, leaving the front door open just in case.
It took less than five minutes for her to discover that the place was empty. She leaned out the front window of the upstairs bedroom and waved to the cabbie that all was okay. Melanie ducked back inside and started doing a more thorough search. She knew that her father kept two safes in the house. One was in the bedroom and the other was behind a panel in the garage; both had been undisturbed. Nor did it appear that anything of value had been taken.
That left only one possibility. Whoever had broken in had been searching for something other than valuables. And whoever it was had her dad’s alarm code.
She went into her dad’s study and looked around. She knew this was where he kept items from work, although she was also aware that her father did not routinely leave any important items lying around. She turned on the light, bent down and started going through the piles of papers on the floor. Thirty minutes later she had found only one thing of interest. It was a list with names on it. She didn’t recognize any of them, but one did capture her attention.
Alex Ford was a Secret Service agent working out of the WFO. Why he was on a list in her father’s house she didn’t know. But she did know one thing: she was going to call him and find out if he knew anything about what her father was involved in.
She ran back out to the cab after locking the door and resetting the alarm. As she sat back breathless in the taxi she had the sickening feeling that her father’s “job” had finally come back to bite him. Hard.
A
LEX FORD WAS SITTING
in his kitchen working his way slowly through a bowl of soup and a beer. He had been largely going through the motions at work since his last meeting with the Camel Club, or what was left of it. He’d driven past the cottage at Mt. Zion Cemetery in the hopes that Annabelle might have returned. He’d tried to call Reuben several times without success. And Caleb had been absent from the library. Unexpected personal issues, he’d been told when he called for him there.
He knew what they were up to. Working together to try and save Oliver. And a big part of him hoped they were successful.
When the phone rang he groaned. It was probably his boss trying to scrounge up some overtime drones to pull some low-level protection duty. Well, tonight he was busy. He had TiVo reruns to catch and tomato soup to finish and beers to pour down his throat.
“Hello?”
It
was
his boss, but he wasn’t looking for overtime. He told Alex that he would be receiving visitors any moment now. And that he was to cooperate fully with them.
“Who are they?”
But the man had already hung up.
