Ryker’s Justice (11 page)

“You
did the right thing, Jude,” Elijah said. “You saved me from having to be the
one so I appreciate that.”

“I
hated doing it.”

“He
had to know,” his brother said. The elevator doors opened and a booming voice
rang out. “Shit.”

Jude
turned to see who made the disruption and frowned. Junior Wetzel strutted
toward them, the heels of his worn cowboy boots tapping across the floor. His
lank hair lay uncombed and his red-rimmed eyes indicated he’d been drinking or
remained in the throes of a hangover. “What the hell does he want?” Jude
muttered.

“Easy,”
Elijah said. “We’ll find out.”

Noah
and Adam joined them. The brothers stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking
passage.

“Junior,
what brings you down here?” Adam said. Despite his level tone, steel lurked
near the surface.

“I
come to apologize for swerving into that kid’s lane,” Junior said, too loud. His
voice grated against Jude’s eardrums with discordant noise. “I never meant
no
harm.”

Jude
tensed, his taut body coiled tighter than a rattlesnake about to strike. He
drew on his reserves of self-control to avoid punching the bastard in the nose.
If he wasn’t Special Agent Ryker, he would have hit him already. Although he’d
made no sound, he didn’t realize he had balled both hands into fists until Noah
touched his arm in warning. “Don’t,” he mouthed.

He
wouldn’t and couldn’t. Adam shook his head. “You’re not welcome here. My nephew
lies in critical condition, and his girl is dead because of you, Junior. It
would take more than an apology to make things right. Get out of here before I
lose my temper.”

Wenzel
glowered. He opened his mouth and the raw sharpness of his breath made Jude
turn away. Bad breath combined with the acidity of home-brewed liquor made a
nasty combination. “I
ain’t
afraid of none of you
Rykers
,” he said. “You’re all talk, no go and no guts,
especially that bad penny there.”

Adam
took one step forward and Junior bolted. He pounded on the elevator buttons and
when the doors opened, he stepped inside without a backward glance. “He’s
trouble,” Noah said. “He won’t be for long,” Jude said. He resisted the urge to
growl low in his throat.

The
brothers shifted into a tight circle facing one another. Elijah shook his head.
“Don’t make threats, little bro,” he said. “I don’t want any trouble.”

If
they knew, they could help him. The epiphany stunned Jude. The key to his
investigation had been within his grasp all along and he’d missed it. He had
kept his secrets, done as he’d been directed by his superiors, but it had been
a mistake. If he’d shared sooner, maybe the girl wouldn’t be dead and David
hurt. “Neither do
I
,” Jude said. “We need to talk. I’ve
got something I need to tell all of you, something I ought to have shared
sooner.”

Noah’s
eyes narrowed. “Is it something bad, Jude?
Something outside
the law?”

Once,
his brother’s words might have made him angry but they amused him now. “No,” he
said. “It’s more the opposite. I promise, I’ll tell all of it soon. I’m taking
off now and I’ll see you all tomorrow. Call me if you need me or want
anything.”

Elijah
put one hand on Jude’s shoulder. “I
will,
thanks. Just
say when and we’ll be there.”

“Sure.”
He left the circle and found Nicole, waiting. She grabbed his hand and together
they walked to the elevator, then out to the truck. A worried frown knitted
across her forehead.

“You’re
going to tell them?”

He
sighed. “I don’t see any other way. Besides, I should’ve told them before. They’re
my brothers, after all, and I think they can help.”

“How?”

“You’ll
understand as soon as I explain it all,” he told her. “Where do you want to go?
Back to the inn?
I’d rather not tell this in front of Rick,
Mary, and assorted guests.”

“Let’s
go home.”

Jude
glanced at her.
“Home?”

Her
smile remained as placid as a lake on a summer’s day. “I meant your house,
Jude.”

He
grinned. “Then home we go.”

They
sat together on the porch steps as the evening shadows expanded into dusk. The
wind turned brisk but they lingered, side by side, sharing the few moments of
solitude. On the way from the hospital, they had picked up a ‘take and bake’
pizza. As it cooked, the delicious aroma of sausage and pepperoni spread
through the house. It wafted outside and after about ten minutes, Jude said,
“The pizza’s probably about done.”

“I
was thinking the same thing,” she said.

By
mutual agreement, they saved the heavy conversation for later and talked about
small things as they savored the pizza. Afterward, Jude headed to the living
room and settled into his recliner. He thought Nicole would sit in the other
but she opted for his mom’s maple rocker. Her petite frame fit it, Jude
thought, and when she began to rock with a slow, steady rhythm, it moved him.

“So,
I guess I’ll tell you why I’m here,” he said. “Want me to start at the
beginning?”

Nicole
nodded. “That’s always a good place.”

“Well,
like you know, I graduated from high school here after playing football,” he
said. He paused to gather his thoughts for a moment. “Then I tried college for
a couple of years but it wasn’t really my kind of environment. So I joined the
Navy and did ten years. I was on battleships and submarines. I enjoyed both but
after a few years I missed the land more than I loved the sea. I suppose I’m a
landlubber at heart, so I got out and went to work for the DOJ, Department of
Justice, for ATF. I’ve been a special agent for about five years, which just
happens to be how long it’s been since my daddy died. I came home for the
funeral and then reported to my supervisor in DC.”

“Does
your family know?”

He
shrugged both shoulders. “I never bothered to share that I’d made a career
change. I worked for the government before, in the Navy, so it never seemed
important. After all, I’m normally not here so it didn’t matter. And when I
left after Daddy’s funeral, I wasn’t sure how my new job would go so I waited. I
just never got around to telling them.”

A
slight frown creased her forehead. “So your family thinks you came home to
stay? And that you’re out of the Navy?”

“I
think so. I’m going to tell them the truth now.”

“Will
they be angry?”

Jude
considered the possibility. “Maybe, but I doubt it. I think they’ll
understand.”

She
rocked the chair back and forth, the sound against the hardwood floors
familiar. “I hope so. Tell me why you’re here, then, if it’s an assignment.”

“Okay.
You know what ATF stands for, right?”

“Alcohol,
tobacco, and firearms, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,
that’s it. And the violations range from minor to international crime rings. There’s
long been a problem in this area with making moonshine, illegal hooch. It’s
gone from the old-fashioned hillbilly making liquor for his family or to thwart
the government, to avoid paying taxes into big business. Homemade whiskey is
making its way out of the Ozarks into other regions and across state lines. Some
of it is such poor quality, with nasty ingredients like anti-freeze, that it’s
killed a few. There’ve been cases where people have gone blind or been
permanently disabled from the stuff. So when the Department of Justice decided
to put a stop to it, they chose me. I’m from the area so they thought I could
get familiar in ways an outsider never could.”

“That
makes sense.”

“Yeah,
it does. So they asked me to come back, gave me a time line, and hoped I could
track down the moonshiners within six months. I came home in May and now that
it’s October, my supervisor is riding my ass. I’ve hung around all the usual
places, tasted more cheap whiskey in back road bars than you can imagine, and
until the other night at the football game, I had nothing.”

Nicole’s
eyes widened and she stopped rocking. “You found something there?”

“Yeah,
honey. When I walked you to the restrooms, I stepped around behind to see what
a bunch of guys were up to and I ran into Junior Wetzel…”

“That’s
the guy who was at the hospital earlier?”

“That’s
him. He handed me a jar of moonshine and dared me to take a drink. So I did, to
see if it was what I thought. It was and damn poor quality. He had shared it
around with some kids, Josh included. And I imagine it’s what
ol
’ Junior was drinking when he hit David’s truck. Before,
it was my job and a duty. Now it’s personal. It makes me want to see justice
done all the more.”

“Jude,
I understand.” Her voice sounded so sad. She sighed and then stood up. He
thought she would come to him, but instead Nicole paced the floor. “I’m glad
you told me and I agree, you should tell your family. Why didn’t you before?”

Even
he didn’t really know why but he told as much of the truth as possible. “The
less they know, the safer they’ll be,” he said. “Now I need their help to see
it through.”

“Oh.”
Nicole walked over to the window and fingered the lace curtains his mother hung
decades ago. He had taken them down and washed them when he moved in, a good
thing now. “I hope you won’t think less of me when I tell you about my past and
my ex-husband.”

“Honey,
I’m not one to judge someone based on another person’s actions.”

She
turned to face him. “I hope not. Here’s the short version. My husband, Simon
Norris, had a big insurance agency in
Memphis
.
McAdoo, by the way, is my maiden name. I started using it again after the
divorce was final, right before I came to
Missouri
. Anyway, he was crooked. He cooked
up schemes and defrauded the parent company more times than I could count, and
that’s just the ones I know about. I imagine there were more. He didn’t treat
me very well. I always wanted children and he didn’t. Simon expected me to keep
the house perfect and to be available anytime he wanted me, whether it was for
a quickie or to be on his arm at some social gathering. He ran up gambling
debts down at the Tunica casinos and in some backroom poker games. I never
quite managed to be the wife he wanted. I was never smart enough, pretty
enough, or could do the right thing at the right time.”

Jude
listened and although he knew most of it, hearing it made him angry. She kept
her eyes on the floor as she spoke and something in her demeanor prompted him
to ask, “Honey, did he hurt you physically?”

Nicole
lifted her head and nodded. Tears shimmered in her eyes. “He did, a few times. He
forced me to tell lies to the hospital. Once, he knocked me down the stairs and
I told them I tripped and fell. I said the coffeepot handle came off in my hand
to explain the second-degree burns when he threw his cup of coffee at me.”

Rage
threatened to erupt and send Jude across state lines to visit Mr. Norris in
prison. “If I ever meet that son-of-a-bitch, I’ll kill him.”

A
faint smile crossed her lips,
then
faded. “Thank you,
but he’s not worth it. I’d rather put it all behind me and move forward.”

He
opened his arms. “Then come here and let me hold you.”

“There’s
one more thing I have to say, then I will. Simon hated my folks and tried to
sever the relationship. They didn’t care for him and loathed how he treated me.
So he wrote up an expensive policy on their home and put his name as the
beneficiary. Then he burned down their house and they died in the fire.”

Her
level voice told Jude more about her grief than if she’d stormed or wept. “I’m
sorry, Nicole,” he told her. “I can’t begin to know what to say to make it
better, but I’m sorry.”

A
smile lit her face like sunshine after a hard rain. “Thanks, Jude. They caught
Simon, though, and he’s in prison for both arson and murder. I’m sorry it
happened but now I’m glad in a weird way, because if it hadn’t, I’d still be unhappily
living my old life in
Memphis
.
I’d rather be here with you.”

“Oh,
honey.” His voice broke on the endearment and then she came into his arms. He
pulled her onto his lap and they shared the recliner, not kissing, just holding
tight and loving.

Chapter Eleven

In
his earliest memories, Sunday dinners were special. His mother’s fried chicken
often graced the table and if not there might be a roast beef or a ham. Jude
remembered that she always baked cake or pie on Sundays, a special dessert to
savor. Although the farmhouse lacked a proper dining room, he’d kept the same
table in the kitchen, one long enough for six Ryker kids and two parents to
fit. After Mama died, the tradition of an old-fashioned Sunday dinner faded
away over the years. By the time Jude left for college, then the Navy, such
meals were nothing but memories. Even holiday dinners were held elsewhere, at
Adam’s or Esther’s home.