January's Betrayal (Larry Macklin Mysteries Book 3) Read online

  “Get me something I can use,” I said, turning and walking away.

  “Hey, I need—” Eddie started to say. He always hit me up for cash.

  I turned around and started back toward him. “You need money? Well, I need information!” I was hot even as a cold wind blew out of the north, anger burning through me. “You’ll get money when you tell me something I can use.” I didn’t wait for him to answer, but turned back around, got in my car and drove off.

  My anger was fueled by fear and frustration. Eddie’s nervous state had convinced me that there was trouble brewing with the Thompson clan. But why were they running so scared?

  I drove straight to Dad’s house. I found him walking the pasture with Mauser, who was enjoying the cool weather. Dad had to call the big idiot a dozen times to get him to stop rolling in every disgusting thing he could find in the pasture.

  Mauser was so enthralled with the smells that his humongous nose was picking up that he didn’t notice me until he was headed for the gate. The big lummox almost knocked me down with his enthusiastic greeting.

  “My God, dog, you stink!” I told him, trying to keep him from rubbing the smell off on me.

  “Now you’ve done it. You need a bath,” Dad said to Mauser, who looked not at all ashamed.

  With my help, Dad managed to get Mauser into the crossties at the barn and hose him down. By the time we were done, Dad and I were as wet as the dog, but at least he smelled less like horse manure and more like oatmeal shampoo as we headed for the house.

  Mauser was ready for his lunch. He stood back and let Dad set the bowl down in front of him before attacking the chow.

  “Is Mauser all right?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He let you put his lunch down without knocking the bowl out of your hand.”

  “That’s Jamie’s doing. He’s been reinforcing Mauser’s training.”

  “Jamie’s the new kid you have walking him when you can’t?”

  “Yeah. He graduated last year and is going to Tallahassee Community College. You remember him. He was in the Sheriff’s Explorers. Blond hair with a wannabe mustache and goatee?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “In fact, he’s still helping out with the Explorers.”

  “He’s been training Mauser?” I was impressed.

  “Reinforcing the training that I’ve done with him.” Dad nodded his head.

  I almost laughed out loud. Dad was the world’s worst dog trainer. He wasn’t bad with horses, but there was something about a dog that made him go soft. Dad’s idea of training involved too many treats given at all the wrong times. But I didn’t say anything, letting Dad believe his little myth. I felt a bit ashamed that I’d never followed through on my plans from a month ago to work with Mauser.

  “So where are we?” Dad asked, done with the small talk.

  I told him about the suitcase.

  “I knew that Ayers wasn’t our rapist. But Conway? Damn it!” Dad hit the table hard with his fist. “I should have seen it!”

  “We don’t have solid evidence yet that it was him. The stuff in the suitcase is just a bunch of junk until we tie some of it to the actual cases.”

  Dad held up his hand. “I know. But I’m comfortable going under the assumption that Ayers was innocent of the first five rapes, and therefore is unlikely to have attacked Angie Maitland.”

  “Agreed. Which leaves us with Nichols. I saw Matt talking to Nichols away from the office yesterday.”

  “Crap. I keep hoping against hope that he’s clean. I know that he’s not well liked, but he’s always seemed dedicated to the job. But unfortunately, I’ve got something too.” Dad opened his laptop and pulled up a map. “Here’s the tracking data on Matt’s car for Wednesday. He was at the Sweet Spot again. Stayed parked there from eleven until four in the morning.”

  “You figure he hooked up with someone there?” I asked.

  “Maybe. They would have had enough time to help Nichols and then take care of Conway.”

  “And you think they killed Conway so that there wouldn’t be any more rapes?” I was trying to see all the angles.

  “That’s right. If they were going to use the rapes as a way to embarrass me, then they had to make sure they ended with the death of Ayers.”

  “This sounds a bit convoluted. Justin Thompson’s a lot of things, but no one has ever accused him of playing eleventh-dimensional chess.” I couldn’t quite see it. But then I remembered what Eddie had told me. “Of course, my snitch just told me that Justin is all worked up. Utterly convinced that you’re after him.”

  “I am after him.”

  “Yeah, but after him in some back-door way. Like something that you’re keeping close to your vest so that his moles can’t keep track of it.”

  “How could I do that? Our vice squad consists of one full-time investigator and four deputies who work as needed. Sure, I’ve got a file on most of the Thompsons. All the bad ones.” There was a branch of the family that had disavowed the criminal half. “We arrest them when we can, and I’ve tried to get FDLE involved, but on a state level our bad guys are pretty low rent. Maybe they’ve started using their own product. That would explain the paranoia.”

  “Maybe.”

  “I’m more concerned with Nichols and Matt.”

  “I think Pete and I are close to being able to move on Nichols. At least we’re close to putting some real pressure on him.”

  “Eliminating Ayers as a suspect in the rapes helps, but you still have to tie Nichols to the woman’s murder, or be able to come up with a convincing motive. Maybe it was to embarrass me, but even you’re skeptical of that. The State Attorney is going to want something more substantial before he goes in front of a jury.”

  “First, we tie Conway to the rapes and then we look at Nichols for the murders of Maitland, Ayers and Conway. If we can put enough pressure on Nichols while offering him some small concession on the charges, he’ll probably finger everyone else,” I said.

  “Including Matt?”

  “Maybe,” I said, then stopped and really looked at Dad. His uniform seemed to sag on him. Has he lost weight? He looked tired.

  “You know, you don’t have to run for sheriff again.” I wanted him to know that he didn’t owe anyone anything. He’d served this community well for many years, and I didn’t want to see it tear him down like this. But from the way he reacted, you would have thought I’d suggested he surrender to ISIS. He stood up straight and looked me square in the eyes.

  “I am not being run off! I’ll see this through no matter where it leads. If it’s too hot for you… Well, I’ll understand. And if it means I lose the election, so be it. But I am not quitting.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You just look exhausted.”

  “I’ve been tired before.” He waved it off. “That’s not going to slow me down.”

  It was clear that I’d pissed him off, but I was worried about him. It was a habit I got into after Mom died. These days, though, trying to protect the people I cared about was just getting me in trouble.

  Chapter Nineteen

  After curt goodbyes, we both went back to work. I headed down to the county’s public works department in search of information on Conway’s metal sign.

  Public works consisted of six buildings spread over a dozen acres on the edge of town. I’d dealt with them regularly when I was on patrol. Not a week went by that I hadn’t needed to get ahold of them to repair a pot hole, cut up a tree or replace a road sign, but since I’d become an investigator I’d lost touch with who was running the show. Public works seemed to be a constant bone of contention with the powers that be. If there wasn’t an uproar over the lack of response by the department, then there was a corruption scandal shaking the place up. I remembered hearing last fall about one of the county commissioners using the department to fix their driveway. Doesn’t anyone ever learn?

  I hunted up one of the old timers that I’d made friends with years ago, someone who
could be counted on to have the low-down on the department. I found Freddy sitting behind a desk in a building marked “Hazardous Waste Disposal.”

  “Hey, Freddy, how’s it going?” I said loudly, causing the older man to look up from a catalog of machines and parts.

  “Hey, hey, if it ain’t Deputy Dog,” he said good-naturedly. He gave me a huge smile while wiping sweat from his bald head. No matter how cold it was, I’d never seen him when he wasn’t sweating. “Betcha need a favor.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Somebody I ain’t seen in a year shows up, I know they want somethin’.” His Boston accent made him unique in Adams County. I was pretty sure that no one else in the county sounded like him, and I knew he enjoyed playing it up.

  I showed him the picture of the parking fine sign. “Who’s in charge of replacing signs these days?”

  “Chad runs the sign shop. But Misty takes the requests and does the billing and stuff. And don’t get excited. She’s not half as good lookin’ as the name would imply,” he said, shaking his head sadly.

  “She’s over in the main office?” I asked, ignoring his sexism.

  “Yeah. Hey, I got a nephew who wants to be a cop. Crazy. Why would anyone want to be sticking their noses in other peoples’ trouble all the time? That’s what I told him.”

  “You’re a wise man, Freddy,” I said, turning to go.

  “Yeah, come back next time you need anything,” he said with a laugh.

  “I pay my debts. Call me if I can help you out.”

  “I’ll take you up on that someday,” he answered, looking back at his catalog.

  I found Misty in her own office tucked away in the main building. Her desk was piled high with neat stacks of invoices and purchase orders.

  “Can I help you?” she asked pertly, looking up from a large computer monitor. In her late fifties, she was apparently trying to make up for her wrinkles by adding perfume.

  “I hope so,” I said, trying not to gag. I showed her the picture of the sign. “Have you all replaced one of these in the last three months?”

  “Handicap five-hundred-dollar parking fine sign,” she said, turning back to her screen and clicking keys with one hand while making rhythmic motions with a mouse. “Yes, we have,” she said, sounding a little surprised.

  I waited, but she didn’t add anything.

  “Where?”

  “Where what? Oh, where was the sign. Why didn’t you ask that? 2345 Oak Street North. It’s the Calhoun Place strip mall.”

  “Does it say which sign?” I knew there were a dozen handicap spots in the parking lot.

  “No. Why don’t you ask your guy?” she said. “Deputy Nichols reported it.”

  I felt my stomach drop to my knees. “Really?” was all I could think to say for a minute. “When did he report it?”

  “January fourth.” Misty looked bored. “I’ve really got a lot of work to do.”

  I called Pete as I left public works. “The sign is from Calhoun Place where the third victim was raped. It was reported missing on January fourth, but here’s the kicker. Nichols was the officer who reported it missing.”

  “Nichols, that’s interesting. I’m not sure that it means too much, though,” Pete mused.

  “Raises the question of when he knew Conway was the rapist.”

  “Did he know that Conway had taken the sign and was replacing it to cover it up?”

  “Could Nichols have been involved in the rapes from the beginning?”

  “Possibly, but none of the victims mentioned a second person. I showed Linda Evers photos of all the items from the suitcase. She thought the pen might have come from her van.” He paused a minute, then said, “I really want to pull Nichols in and put his feet to the fire.”

  “We do that, he’s going to either clam up or go postal.”

  “Yeah, and we probably need to talk to the lieutenant before we do it.”

  “And Major Parks. Don’t forget he’s supposed to be heading up the internal affairs review of the shooting,” I reminded Pete.

  “Jeez, could this be any more complicated? But you’re right. Once we let Nichols know that we suspect him, it can’t be undone.”

  “Nichols will stir up a shit storm inside the department and will make himself the victim of the story. All that said, I still want to do it.”

  “Since when did you become such a gambler?”

  “Risk-taking is my game.”

  “Yeah, right, I’m not buying that. Okay, let’s talk to Lt. Johnson and Major Parks this afternoon so our asses are well covered.”

  “Deal.”

  “I don’t like any of this,” Lt. Johnson said, staring back and forth between Pete and me. We’d spent twenty minutes giving him and Parks the abbreviated version of our investigation. Now we had to wait to see which side of the equation they were going to come down on: caution or action. Johnson telegraphed his military background with every move he made. He was always dressed in uniform and sat, stood and walked like was he being graded on posture. And no man, not even my father, could glare someone down better than Lt. Johnson.

  “We’d have brought you all in sooner, but the investigation has been moving fast,” Pete explained.

  “Accusing one of our deputies of murder is as serious as it gets.” Major Parks stated the obvious.

  “The sooner we put him under the lights, the quicker we can settle this.” I knew this was the only golden ring that I could offer them. Everyone would want this to be over as quickly as possible. Of course, I wasn’t going to tell either of them that this was probably part of a larger conspiracy. Even Pete didn’t know all of the angles, which bothered me a lot more than keeping the brass in the dark.

  “I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing. Like a chemical reaction, you think if you add heat it’ll speed things up. Trouble is, sometimes when you add heat, things blow up.” Johnson was glaring at us again.

  I tried to meet his eyes without making it a challenge and kept my mouth shut so he didn’t think I was rushing him into a decision.

  “Hmmm. I think I’ve got a job for you.” Johnson pointed his finger at me in a very nice impression of Uncle Sam. “Okay, you two can interview Nichols, put some heat on him and see where it goes. But we’ll be watching, and I’ll pull the plug if I think for one moment you’re going too far.” He turned to the major. “Is that acceptable, Major?”

  “If there’s a bad egg in the department, we need to find out as soon as possible,” Parks said, nodding.

  “What’s the job you have for me?” I asked Johnson.

  “Regardless of what happens with the Nichols interview, I want you to take one morning in the next day or so to help Greene clear a couple of his cases. He’s been taking most of the new stuff while you two have been tied up with this shooting.”

  His tone left no doubt that this was an order and not a real trade that I could negotiate. He wasn’t going to make Pete do it considering the well-known bad blood between Pete and Matt. But the thought of having to work with Matt right now made my blood run cold. What choice did I have?

  “Okay.” At least we were going to have our chance to bring the hammer down on Nichols. Maybe Nichols would crumble and implicate Matt and I wouldn’t have to deal with him tomorrow. Fat chance. We’d be lucky if Nichols implicated himself. But it was worth the chance.

  It was four by the time we got out of Johnson’s office. “I’ll call Nichols and see if he can come in at five. That’d give us an hour to prepare,” Pete said.

  “Are we jumping the gun on this?” I asked, suddenly experiencing a bad case of cold feet.

  “We can do this. Even if we don’t hit gold this afternoon, we’re going to push Nichols hard enough that he’s going to get desperate. Desperate men do dumb shit. I think Confucius or that guy who wrote the Art of War said that.”

  “Okay, make the call.”

  I gathered from Pete’s side of the phone call that Nichols was suspicious.

  “It’s
just routine. We want to clear up one or two more points. You know Parks and Johnson can be asses about the details,” Pete told Nichols. I didn’t hear his response, but Pete smiled.

  “Yep, see you then.” Pete hung up and turned to me. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter Twenty

  We made our final plans in the conference room. Like before, we wanted Nichols to think the meeting was informal. I glanced up at the camera mounted high up in the corner of the room. Similar to the ones used in our regular interview rooms, the camera would allow Johnson, Parks and my dad to watch the interview as it took place.

  “We’ll tell the desk sergeant to let Nichols come straight back here,” Pete said.

  “Right, no escort, everything low-key. And we’ll be sitting here with the file on the shooting.” I tapped the four-inch-high pile of notes, reports and photographs. “Which he’ll be very curious about.”

  “Exactly. It’ll distract him so that he’s paying less attention to our questions and his answers. Which is also the purpose of having these on our side of the table.” Pete pulled out Nichols’s gun and badge, laying them next to us on the table. “Major Parks was reluctant to hand them over. He made me assure him that I wouldn’t give them back to Nichols under any circumstances.”

  “I’m not surprised. It doesn’t matter. Everyone in the office will know that we’re pointing the finger at Nichols half an hour after we’re done,” I said regretfully. The sheriff’s office was a very small family.

  “You know, we won’t be very popular until we prove he’s guilty.”

  I knew Pete was understating the case. This was going to create a large rift in the family. Nichols was not one of the most popular deputies, but he had friends. And many wouldn’t believe he was guilty even with proof. Once people have made up their minds about someone, it can be hard to get them to change their opinion.

  “I can live with not being popular,” I said lightly.

  “Hell, you aren’t that popular anyway,” Pete joked, lightening the mood a bit. “Who starts asking the questions?”