Divine Justice (40 page)
“It sounds like suicide,” shot back Alex.
“Actually,” said Annabelle, “you’re both wrong.”
“I
SWEAR IF IT’S
the last thing I ever do, I’m going to kill Macklin Hayes,” Knox muttered to Stone. The two men were back in their cell and many hours had passed since Hayes had come to put the proverbial nail in their coffins.
“But that would be against the law. And people will come and hunt you down and put you away,” said Stone, as he peered out the slit the prison called a window. It overlooked the front parking lot but it was very difficult to see through because of the opaqueness of the window covering attached to the bars.
“Yeah, I realize the irony, trust me, but I’m still going to do it.”
“
If
we get out of here.”
“Yeah, I also realize the impossibility of that at the moment.”
“I think you might be wrong about that.”
Knox sat up. “Really?”
“Don’t get your hopes up. It’s for a bad reason, not a good one.”
“What are you saying?”
“Have you noticed that ever since Hayes left they haven’t bothered to feed us or let us out of the cell?”
“Yeah, my stomach is reminding me of that pretty much every second. So?”
“So that tells me that our stay here is coming to an end.”
“Don’t waste food on corpses? How unlike our esteemed warden.”
“There’s no reason to keep us here any longer. There’s always a chance that someone might show up and search the place. Why risk it?”
“Where do you think they’ll take us?”
“I know from firsthand experience that there are abandoned mines around here. A drop down an old shaft, seal it back up. Apparently people up here are used to dead men being inside these mountains. That’s how this place got its name, in fact.”
Stone pressed his face against the wall, trying to wedge it between the edges of the slit so he could see out better. He squinted and could see the outline of the mountains in the distance. They might as well have been on Mars. Three feet of concrete, a hundred yards of open space, killer wire and a battalion of snipers with aggressive trigger fingers was all that stood between them and freedom.
No way out.
Knox said, “You get into this business you know any day your number could come up. And you deal with that. But you keep going because it’s your job, a job you swore to do to the best of your ability. Serve your country to the end.”
“Or until your country screws you,” amended Stone.
“When I was assigned to come after you, I really didn’t know what to expect. I knew you were a dangerous guy but figured you’d just gone bad like some do. But the more I found out . . . Well, if anyone ever deserved an apology from his country, you sure as hell do.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you, Knox.”
“My friends call me
Joe
, Oliver.”
Stone turned back to look at him. Knox was standing and holding out his hand.
Stone took it and the two condemned men shared a brief but heartfelt handshake.
“When do you think they’ll come for us?”
“Tonight.” Stone looked out the slit again. “And best as I can tell that’s about six hours away—” He stopped talking and then desperately tried to squeeze his head into the slit. He was barely making out a group of people climbing out of a car and heading to the prison entrance. Yet one tall, bushy-haired gent stood out from the others.
It has to be.
“What is it?” Knox said, “what do you see?”
Stone turned to look at him, a smile spreading across his face. “I see hope, Joe. Damn if I don’t see hope.”
“M
R.
T
YREE,
I think you better come down here, sir,” the guard said into the phone.
“What is it?” barked Tyree as he sat behind his large desk with a bird’s-eye view of his little kingdom. “I’m busy.”
The guard turned to the group facing him.
“He said he’s busy.”
Alex Ford yanked the phone out of the man’s hand.
“This is Alex Ford, United States Secret Service. I’m here with a joint federal agency task force and we have some questions for you, Warden. And if you don’t get your butt down here, the next person you’ll be talking to is a U.S. attorney as he reads the charges against your ass.”
In his office Tyree nearly dropped the phone. “I have no idea—”
“Get down here, now!”
Sixty seconds passed and then Tyree walked stiffly into the front entrance area.
Alex flashed his creds before motioning to the others. Reuben, Caleb and Harry Finn wore blue FBI windbreakers. Annabelle had on a DEA jacket. “Agents Hunter, Kelso, Wright and Tasker.”
“What the hell is this about?” said Tyree angrily.
Alex looked askance at him. “You really want to do this out in the open? Wouldn’t you prefer some privacy, or is every son of a bitch here in on it?”
“In on what?” Tyree said indignantly.
“Tyree, you can’t be that stupid. In fact, I’ve got a file on you an inch thick that says you’re a pretty smart boy.”
Tyree glanced at the nervous-looking guards and hurriedly motioned Alex and the others into a small room off the main entrance.
Alex shut the door behind them. “Okay, your little drug ring is falling apart.”
“What drug ring?”
Alex looked at Annabelle. “Agent Hunter?”
Annabelle walked up to the diminutive Tyree, towering over him. “I thought you’d be a bigger guy. I rarely see shrimp like you in charge of an op this large.”
“I am the warden of this prison. You will address me—”
“Screw you! You’re lucky I’m not cuffing your scrawny ass right now. We have the shipments coming up from down south. Either the real oxy or manufactured pills. They’re addressed to the courthouse, which gives them cover. That’s where the old judge came in. The old judge on the run. When we find his ass he’ll turn government witness faster than I can say lethal injection. And you can kiss your butt so long, unless you killed him too. Like you did Shirley and Bob and Willie Coombs. And let’s not forget Debby Randolph and your bean counter in crime Rory Peterson. How much did he skim off the top before you stopped him?”
“You’re a lunatic!”
“I’m just getting warmed up. Then you’ll see how crazy I can really be when I have your ass with a grand jury indictment painted all over it. So where was I? Oh, then part of the shipment is peeled off en route and comes here. Maybe in the chopper rides where you
transport
prisoners. Then the stuff gets moved out to the back edge of the Riker farm. And the miner train comes by and picks it up in the dark of night, and slings it on up the pipeline under the guise of the poor addicts going to get their methadone. And the money comes pouring in.” She glanced at Caleb. “Agent Kelso?”
Caleb stepped forward. “And then the town
investment
fund is used to launder the drug proceeds. That’s where Rory Peterson came in. He kept the cooked books and parceled out checks to the good folks of Divine, with you and your partners keeping the lion’s share of the profits. What the citizens of Divine thought were payoffs from brilliant bets in the stock market were really drug monies. I believe that an investigation will show that you all have an ownership interest in all those businesses. Then you dump the laundered funds into offshore accounts. Peterson was killed because he was skimming. Josh Coombs was killed because he got wind of what was going on up here. You killed Shirley because after you killed her son you figured she might just turn on you.”
“Why the hell would I kill her son?”
Annabelle looked confident, because Tyree had told them what Stone had figured out. “Because he was close to Debby. She saw whoever killed Peterson because she was working at the bakery across the street from his office. Your goons killed Peterson and Debby and made her death look like a suicide. But Willie never believed she killed herself. He was making a lot of noise. You were probably afraid Debby might have called him back and told him something about what she saw before she was killed. You tried once to get him and failed. The second time it worked.”
Tyree slumped down in a chair.
She counted off on her fingers. “So let’s see, that’s at least half a dozen murders in addition to the federal drug charges. And on top of that we have reason to believe that you’re holding two federal agents here against their will.”
“What?” Tyree snapped.
“Right, I forgot to tell you that part. Where are they? One answers to the name Joe Knox, the other John Carr.”
Annabelle studied him closely. The man was a good poker player, but she saw the truth simply in how his blinking kicked up a notch and his fingers quivered just a hair.
“These accusations are ridiculous. And where’s your proof?”
“Our proof will be when we search this place and find our two agents. And the rest of the puzzle is coming together quite nicely. And when we nab the judge we’ll have our key witness against you.”
“You can’t search this place without a warrant.”
“Oh, we’ll have a warrant. By the crack of dawn tomorrow morning. And just in case you get a hankering to travel anywhere, we have a roadblock set up. So don’t even think of trying to slip them out that way. And leave the chopper grounded. Because we’ve got two of our own waiting to lift off the moment yours does.”
Annabelle leaned down close into the man’s sweating face. “By the way, we’re well aware of your rep as being an asshole to every con that’s ever walked through these doors. You like dishing out the pain,
little
man? Well, after your conviction, our strong recommendation to the correctional folks will be that wherever you go you’re to be placed in the general prison population. Might save the Commonwealth the cost of an execution. Get my drift?”
“How dare you!” Tyree suddenly moved to strike Annabelle, but a massive hand was placed on his arm by Reuben.
“I would not advise that,” the big man said. “Because then they’ll have to shoot you.”
Tyree looked around to see Harry and Alex pointing pistols at his head.
Annabelle said, “We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning, Howie. Oh, and if I were you, I’d definitely get my affairs in order.”
“T
HEY’RE COMING,”
Stone said.
He and Knox stood and backed against the wall as the pounding of the approaching boots echoed down the hall.
“I hope you’re right about what you saw,” Knox said nervously.
“Cuff slot!” a voice barked.
Stone started forward but Knox stopped him.
“This one’s mine. They tend to kick the crap out of the first guy. Guess they run out of energy.”
“Joe, you don’t have to do that.”
“Why should
you
have all the fun?”
Knox backed to the door and put his hands through the slot. Someone grabbed them and pulled hard, causing Knox’s head to slam back against the door.
As he shook the pain away, he said, “You’ll have to do a lot better than that, jerk-offs.”
That got him another slam, but he’d braced himself against the door so the damage was negligible. Knox smiled at this small victory even as his headache grew worse.
The two guards didn’t bother to search them this time, and they weren’t shackled. And it was George, the crotch-grabber. Manson was apparently still in the infirmary.
Or with any luck, dead
, thought Stone.
“Where are your uniforms?” Stone asked George.
“Changing occupations?” Knox added. “I’m not sure that’s the drug dealer look you want.”
“Shut up!” roared the man.
They were hustled downstairs and through more corridors and then down a sloping, winding passageway until Stone could smell the pungent odor of wet dirt and slimy rock.
Up ahead they saw a light. When they approached the man came into view. Howard Tyree was dressed all in black and didn’t look nearly so smug as usual.
Stone looked down at him. “I see the visit today triggered some things.”
“How did you—” Tyree began, but Knox cut him off.
“Macklin Hayes has been under internal investigation for a year for basically being a deranged asshole. They were following him. He led them right to us.
And
you. You moron.”
“Shit!” blurted out Tyree.
Stone said, “So you might just want to surrender, Warden. It’s over.”
Tyree smiled, a dangerous look on his face. “They might be the feds but they’re not from around here. Don’t know our ways or our land.” He gave Stone a hard shove in the back. “Now move!”
They walked, the ground sloping down more with each step. Mold clung to the walls, and the heavy smell of damp gripped just as fiercely to their lungs. They finally came to a heavy steel door. George unlocked it. They all stepped through, navigated another short passage and came to yet another massive door. This was unlocked and they stepped into what had to be a mineshaft. Stone and Knox were told to wait as the other man headed off down a side corridor.
Stone looked around at the long tunnel and brace posts in the dirt floor and beams and thick wire across the ceiling holding back the rock. It reminded him of the place with the snakes. And there were rattlers with him tonight too, just of the human variety. Low ceiling, dirt and rock, massive beams holding back the mountain along with the tonnage of the prison. It was claustrophobic, all of it. Stone didn’t know which was worse, the cell or the mine.
Maybe, in a way, they are the same.
His philosophizing stopped when he saw the guard coming back and leading another person with him.
“Abby!” As she grew closer, Stone’s rage swelled. In the beams of the flashlights carried by Tyree and her guard Abby’s face clearly showed the beating she’d endured.
Stone lunged at Tyree, but with his hands behind his back, he was easily subdued.
“I will kill you,” he said quietly to Tyree.
“I see it the other way around,” the warden replied calmly.
They walked on, Abby next to him while Knox shot curious glances at them.
“Abby, what happened?” Stone whispered to her.
