Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc (30 page)

BOOK: Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc
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Chapter 70

Bois D’Arc Hospital

Flashing red lights of the EMT ambulance bounced off the walls of the emergency bay of the Bois D’Arc Memorial Hospital at two in the morning. Two EMTs hustled to get the patient’s stretcher from the vehicle through the Emergency entrance. They were met at the door by two nurses and the emergency room doctor, who took over the transport of the victim into the trauma bay. The senior EMT trotted alongside the gurney, telling the attending physician about the patient’s condition. Texas Highway Patrolman Garman Yates was talking with Deputy Sheriff Dylan Walker, who was a first responder to the 911 call.

“According to the EMTs the driver OD’d on cocaine. We found several dime bags in his pocket,” Patrolman Yates said. “It was a lucky break for him the crash didn’t knock his headlights out or I wouldn’t have seen him. I was just cruising along on patrol after picking up my regular cup of coffee at Roscoe’s, and there he was hanging upside-down in the riverbed. I thought he was dead when I called it in, but the EMT guys worked on him and got a weak pulse. It’s all yours now, deputy. I faxed a copy of my report to Sheriff Daniels.”

“Thanks, we’ll take it from here and get a wrecker out there to bring the vehicle in to the impound lot.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you next time. Hope you have a peaceful rest of the night.” The patrolman touched his finger to the brim of his hat as he left the ER.

Deputy Walker returned to his patrol car. His emergency lights were still flashing. He slid into his seat, picked up his radio and pressed the talk button. “County Sheriff Unit 12, I have a wrecked vehicle out on Route 69, need wrecker response, over.” His radio receiver crackled back. “This is Randy’s Wrecker Service. I’m on my way. Out.”

He dropped his radio on the front seat and returned to his position outside the trauma bay. After forty-five minutes, the ER physician emerged from the trauma room. “How’s it look, doc? Is the guy going to make it?”

“He ingested a large amount of cocaine; we have done everything we can for him. Right now he can go either way. He seems to have an incredible will to survive. If he does wake up, he could have severe brain damage. I don’t understand these young people. They know cocaine eventually destroys every organ in their body, yet they still use it. I’ll be back to check on him before I leave at seven.” The doctor walked away, shaking his head.

Six hours later

Sheriff Daniels rolled slowly to a stop, parking his cruiser in a reserved parking place next to the guard shack at RJ System’s main gate about the same time the first-shift workers passed through. Security Chief Cal Johnson was waiting for him.

“Good morning, Sheriff,” Cal said. “Your call sounded urgent. What can I do for you?”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, Cal, but with the recent problems you had I thought it might be important.”

“Just sign the visitors’ log. You don’t need a badge as long as you’re with me. Let’s go to my office where we can talk.” The two men walked across the street to the administration building and entered Cal’s office. “Coffee, Sheriff?”

“Don’t mind if I do. Okay if I have one of those pastries?”

“Help yourself, Sheriff.”

Cal’s secretary, Stephanie, brought the men steaming cups of coffee on a tray with a cream pitcher and a dish with sugar and artificial sweetener. She placed the tray next to the platter of pastries fresh from the cafeteria oven.

“Thanks, Stephanie. That will be all. So, Sheriff, tell me about the accident you mentioned in your phone call and why it concerns RJ Systems.”

“The young man’s name is Troy Blackmon and I believe he’s a relatively new employee of yours. Anyway, about two o’clock this morning he was found unconscious hanging upside down by his seat belt in the dry Sabine River bed. It appeared he had run off the road just before the Sabine River Bridge and flipped over, landing in the dry bed. There were no skid marks and the distance he rolled indicated he wasn’t traveling very fast. Trooper Yates and my deputy helped the EMT boys get him down. They thought he was dead. Couldn’t find a pulse at first. But they worked with him and finally got a faint heart rhythm. My deputy searched his pockets for identification. He found a wallet all right, but he also found bags of cocaine and a little notebook.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff,” Cal said, “but what’s your point? We did a background check and he had no history of drugs. The company will send flowers and a card to the hospital. His department will probably sign a separate card as well. We care about our employees and express that concern in these situations. I really don’t know what else you would like us to do.”

“I’d
like
you to listen closely to what Deputy Walker found in that little notebook.”

“Sorry, I’m listening.”

“There is a list of times during the day that Mr. Miller was out of his office down in the hangar the last three weeks. He had circled the times that were consistent each day and how long he was gone. Ten o’clock was the most consistent time circled on his list. Don’t you think that’s a little strange? Has Mr. Miller noticed anything unusual or missing from his office?”

“Ten o’clock is when he meets with the department heads for progress reports. He’s running a very tight ship since the fire. He hasn’t mentioned anything to me. Maybe we should pay him a visit and find out if there is anything we should know about. Stephanie, would you please call Rod? Tell him Sheriff Daniels and I are on our way to his office.”

When Sheriff and Cal Johnson arrived, Rod was busily organizing his day. Cal opened the door part way and popped his head in the opening. “I know you’re busy, but we just need a few minutes of your time”

“Sure, Cal, what’s up? Good morning, Sheriff, what can we do for you?”

“Sheriff Daniels is concerned about your wellbeing.”

“Why is that, Sheriff? What’s the basis for your concern?”

“One of your employees OD’d on cocaine around two this morning and we found this in his pocket along with several packets of cocaine.” Sheriff Daniels handed the notebook to Rod opened to the pages of the listed times.

Rod scratched his head, confused about the notes. “What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know, he’s a parts chaser working for Brent Ferguson over in maintenance,” Cal answered. “I think we should get him over here and find out what this guy does.” Cal picked up the desk phone, punched in his number, and asked Stephanie to get Brent to Rod’s office right away.

“I’d like to question him, too. I think we may be looking at a criminal act here,” Sheriff Daniels said. “Who knows, this guy may have planted a recording device for industrial or foreign espionage. Maybe even a bomb. Terrorism is on the rise everywhere. The most recent in this country was when the home of the director of American-Israeli Public Affairs was blown up. It’s not beyond reason that there might be an underground operation that hates Arabs and anybody that does business with them.”

“You can’t be serious,” Rod responded.

“Now you both know there are a lot of crazies in this world. You have already had somebody try to destroy one of your airplanes. Unfortunately for him, he burned himself up in the process. I think we need to do a full top-to-bottom search of this office, and the sooner the better.”

Cal spoke up. “No offense, Sheriff, but there’s a jurisdictional issue here. I agree with your suggestion, but this is a federal matter and should be handled by the FBI.”

“Fine by me. I just don’t want to pick up tomorrows paper and see a picture of the remains of this hanger on the front page. RJ Systems is the lifeblood of this county and I want to keep it that way, no matter who is point on the investigation. I
do
want to be kept in the loop. This is my county and I’m still responsible for its safety.”

“Agreed,” Cal said, “I’ll call Garza and brief him on the situation. Sheriff, is Troy Blackmon still alive?”

“My last report said he was hanging on by a thread. If he comes out of the coma, we will interrogate him as soon as the doctors give us a green light. I’ll keep you informed, Mr. Miller.”

“Thanks, Sheriff, and please call me Rod.”

“Rod, I got a message you wanted to see me,” Brent Ferguson said as he entered the tiny office and saw the three men standing in a circle.

“Thanks for coming over, Brent. What do you know about Troy Blackmon’s background? How long has he worked for you?” Rod asked.

“I only know what Eddie Winthrop told me when he asked me to hire him.”

“Eddie Winthrop!” Rod exclaimed. “What possible reason did he have for getting a job for Troy Blackmon?”

“He called about five months ago and said he had a pro-bono case and the young guy needed a job to stay out of jail. He even vouched for him. It was a misdemeanor case. He got him off on a plea bargain where all he had to do was pay the fine. He convinced the judge to waive the charges if he got Troy a job to pay the fine.”

“This sounds very suspicious. A kind-hearted gesture is not in character for Eddie. There had to be an ulterior motive. This just isn’t like the Eddie Winthrop I’ve known most of my life.”

“All I know is the judge basically released Troy into Eddie’s custody. Is there something wrong? Is he in trouble?”

“We don’t know yet.” Cal answered. “He had a pretty bad accident early this morning and may not make it.”

“Oh my God, what happened?”

“He had an overdose of cocaine and wrecked his truck. We’ll fill you in on that later. Right now we need to know if you had a position open when Eddie called.”

Brent’s face went blank as his head dropped. “Not really. I owed him a favor for taking care of a traffic ticket. I said I could use him to do odd jobs on the line. He turned out to be a good kid and worked hard. I made him a parts runner after a few months. He did a good job and was always reliable.”

“Have you ever seen this?” Cal handed him the little notebook.

Brent looked through it and stopped at the pages with the list of times noted. He looked puzzled. “What are all these times referring to? And the circles around ten o’clock, what does that mean?”

“That’s what we would like to know,” Cal said.

“I’m shocked. He seemed like such a good worker and had no drugs in his background check.”

“You just never know about those cokeheads. They can charm the nickels off a dead man’s eyes,” the Sheriff chimed in.

“Okay, we can’t wait for the FBI. I think we need to cordon off the area and start searching for anything out of the ordinary. I’ll get some security guards over here and get started,” Cal said. “Until we finish, Rod, you need to go back to your office and stay there until I can give you an all clear.”

“I’m really curious about Eddie becoming so civic-minded,” Rod said. “Sheriff, please keep me posted on Troy’s condition. We definitely need to know more about his involvement with Eddie Winthrop, and thanks for bringing the little book to our attention. We just need to break the code of those noted times.”

“I’m heading over to the hospital and will let you know the minute he comes to. I need an escort out.”

“Cal, would you mind escorting Sheriff Daniels to the guard shack?”

“Not at all, I’ll bring some security guards back to help search. Ready, Sheriff?”

Chapter 71

Coming together

Rod opened the office door to find Special Agent Garza talking to Jack in the conference room.

“Come on in, Rod. Manny has some news he was sharing with me. I think you’ll find it most interesting.

“Okay, but first I have some interesting information for both of you.” Rod outlined what he, the Sheriff, Cal Johnson, and Brent Ferguson had discovered. “Security is searching the office with a fine-tooth comb as we speak. We told Sheriff Daniels the FBI would handle the search. I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want the locals involved at this point since Agent Garza has done all the work.”

“No problem. I think we’re close to wrapping the case up. I’ll brief you on our progress so far. I trust your security people to conduct the search, but I definitely want to know the results when they finish.”

“Sounds like Eddie has been busier than we thought.” Jack said. “Now let Manny blow your mind again with what he’s found out,” Jack said.

“I have shadowed Eddie’s recent movements,” said Garza, “and got a court order to access his bank account and telephone calls. He moved two thousand dollars each month from his personal account for the last six months on a consistent basis. His telephone records reveal he made a series of phone calls to Troy Blackmon. The latest one was yesterday. Last night he and Troy were seen at Roscoe’s Place, a bar outside of town on Route 69. Witnesses said Troy drank more than a half dozen boilermakers and was so drunk he could hardly walk.

“The hospital said he had consumed a large amount of cocaine and alcohol before he wrecked his pickup on the way home. If Eddie was with him at the bar, why didn’t Eddie follow Troy home or call 911 when he wrecked? It appears he intentionally made it look like an overdose caused the accident and left Troy there to die. Fortunately, a state trooper found the wrecked truck and called for assistance. If Troy survives—his odds are fifty-fifty right now—maybe . . . we can get some answers. Sheriff Daniels is at the hospital in case he wakes up. His testimony alone should nail Eddie, if he survives. But if he doesn’t, our case is still strong,” Garza said. He turned to Rod. “Maybe you can help identify a call to a man in Dallas named Roger Helms. That name familiar to you?”

Rod shook his head in disbelief. “Yes, Roger Helms was my wife’s first husband. I thought he was in prison for dealing drugs and burning down his own nightclub to pay off debts.”

“He had a good lawyer who got him probation instead of jail time. His former connections to drug dealers was probably the reason Eddie contacted him to buy cocaine. We pulled him in for questioning, but he lawyered up and we cut a deal. If he supplies us information to help convict Eddie Winthrop, we won’t tell his probation officer about his conspiracy with Eddie to commit a felony.”

“The drugs weren’t the only motive Eddie had in contacting Roger,” Rod commented. “He knew Roger would be willing to help him after Cass’s deposition for the assault that caused her miscarriage.”

“Actually, he was sorry he gave Eddie the information. He said he has no animosity toward Cass. She had every right to testify against him and divorce him after what he did. He was okay with that. He said he hoped we can arrest Eddie before he hurts anyone.”

“It’s a little late for that,” Rod said, “but his information will help convict Eddie. Well, Manny, what’s next?”

“I think I have enough evidence to arrest and convict him now, but I want to wait and see if Troy wakes up and can testify against Eddie in court. That will make our case a slam-dunk. While we’re waiting for him to wake up, I have Eddie’s office and apartment staked out. If he tries to run after he finds out Troy didn’t die, we’ve got him. I think the DA can put him away for a long time.”

Rod’s desk phone interrupted the conversation. “That should be Cal. They must have found something.” He grabbed the conference room extension. “Rod here, did you find anything? Don’t remember anything like that. Bring it up to my office, Agent Garza’s here.”

“Cal said they found an unusual box. Says it isn’t a bomb. He’s bringing it up.”

Cal arrived and quickly joined the others in the conference room. “Since it was only a temporary office, you didn’t have much down there. But we found this beautiful gold-trimmed wooden box in your locker. It’s locked and looks like a keepsake box, except for what looks like an Arabic inscription. I brought some tools for you to open it. It looks like a personal gift from the Saudis. Maybe you just forgot about it in all the confusion that went on after the fire. There’s an inscription under the flag, can you read it?” Cal sat the box down on the conference table in front of Rod.

He picked it up and read the Arabic inscription,
To Prince Abdulraheem El-Amine from your American friend, Rod Miller
. I’ve never seen this box before.
Manny, do you think it’s safe to open it?”

Agent Garza examined the box closely. “It doesn’t have the smell of an explosive. It doesn’t rattle and isn’t heavy enough to be C4 explosives. What it does have is the medicinal scent of cocaine. I think it’s safe to open it.”

Cal handed Rod a screwdriver. Rod carefully pried the lock open. “Manny, you’re right, it looks like cocaine.”

“It all makes sense now,” Rod said. “Eddie bought a large amount of cocaine to kill Troy and put the rest in a box to be found in my office as a security violation. That sick, conniving son of a bitch.”

Agent Garza wet the tip of his finger and dipped it into the white powdery substance and tasted it. “Gentlemen, that is as fine a grade of cocaine I’ve seen in a long time. Cut with additives, the street value of that little box could be worth more than two hundred thousand dollars. Like you said, Rod, our suspect probably wanted the cocaine found in your locker, making it look like you were exporting the drug to Saudi Arabia. That could have gotten you in a lot of trouble with the Defense Department, costing you prison time and the loss of government contracts. He’s trying to destroy you and the company. He must have a lot of hate for you, Mr. Miller, eating away at him until he became psychopathic. The desperation of murder speaks to the level of sickness he has reached. He is a very twisted and dangerous man. Rest assured we have eyes on him. He won’t hurt anyone else.”

The conference room phone rang again. Rod answered on the second ring. “Mr. Miller, this is security guard Ralph Hopkins at the front gate guard shack. Is Mr. Johnson with you, sir?”

“Cal, it’s for you,” He handed the phone to his security director.

Cal listened intently for a moment. “Thanks Ralph, I’ll take care of it.” He placed the phone back in its cradle. “Gentlemen,” Cal announced, “an anonymous phone call was just received at the guard shack warning that a package containing drugs could be found in the locker of Vice President Miller’s temporary office. The caller promptly hung up. Anybody care to guess who it was?”

“Fortunately the accident happened too late to make the morning paper,” Cal said. “Sheriff Daniels is controlling things at the hospital. Everything’s being kept under wraps. No information is being given out.”

Agent Garza pulled out his handheld two-way radio and called his stakeout agents for an update. He spent most of the conversation nodding and saying, “Uh-huh.

He switched off his radio.
“Eddie has just arrived at his office. My guys have had to settle for line-of-sight observation. They weren’t able pick up anything through his window. His office in the rear of the building was too far away and inaccessible for their shotgun microphone listening devices. We’ll just have to do some old-fashioned police work and follow him wherever he goes. On the positive side, we have a tap on his phone. No calls so far.”

By mid-morning, Eddie had already downed several cups of coffee. He asked some of the other lawyers if they had heard anything about a wreck on Route 69 last night or this morning. None had heard anything about it. Not knowing was driving him crazy. When he could no longer stand the suspense, he called the
Bois D’Arc Journal.
“May I speak to the reporter that handles the police beat?” he asked in a calm, polite voice that belied the tension boiling in his stomach.

A deep voice came online. “This is Tray Barker, can I help you?”

“I heard about a bad wreck out on Route 69 last night, you have anything on that?”

“You probably know as much as I do. A State Trooper found a pickup down in the Sabine River bed around two o’clock this morning. First responders were called in. They transported a white male in his early twenties to the hospital. The driver was unconscious at the time of transport and arrival at the hospital. That’s all the EMTs could tell me. The hospital will only confirm a man fitting that description was admitted around two-thirty this morning and is being treated. Sorry, man, that’s all I have. I’m following up on it. I should have an update in tomorrow’s paper.”

His head was spinning, Eddie froze. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead in the seventy-degree air-conditioned office. What went wrong? He had given him enough cocaine to kill two people. There’s no way he could have survived the drugs and the wreck. Feeling dizzy, he collapsed backward into his executive chair.

Get a hold of yourself
.
Can’t sit here and wait for the next shoe to drop.
With that thought, he sprang out of his chair and poked his head into his dad’s office on the way out of the building. “I’m not feeling well, Dad, I’m taking off the rest of the day. Andrew can take any calls I get until I come back.” He was out the front door before his dad could respond. A troubled look came over Reginald Winthrop’s face. His patience with his son was wearing thin.

Agent Garza’s radio crackled loudly, startling everyone in the conference room that had become an impromptu command center. “This is Garza, over.”

“The perp’s on the move. We’re in pursuit, over.”

“Don’t let him out of your sight, over.”

“Copy that, out.”

“Eddie’s on his way to the hospital. I need to notify Sheriff Daniels.” Agent Garza quickly changed frequencies on his radio and raised the sheriff. “Eddie is on his way to the hospital. Stay out of sight but keep an eye on him. Let hospital security handle him unless he becomes violent, then cuff him. I’m on my way, over.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, out.”

A silver Mercedes slowly worked its way through the parking lot toward the emergency entrance in the rear of the hospital. Eddie found an open parking place near the emergency entrance. He confidently walked through the double doors to the charge nurses’ desk.

“I am Edward Winthrop, attorney for Troy Blackmon. I understand he was brought in early this morning from the scene of an accident. I would like to confer with him. Which bay is he in, please?”

“I’m sorry, sir, he’s in ICU and isn’t allowed to have visitors at this time.”

“That’s ridiculous, I’m his attorney,” Eddie snapped at the nurse.

“I’m sorry. Those are the rules. Only family is allowed to see him.”

“What is his status? I have a right to that, if I am to represent him.” His voice could be heard down the hall, where Sheriff Daniels was watching and listening.

“I’ll just go check on him so I can report his condition to his family—they don’t have a car and have no way of getting to the hospital.” He turned before the nurse could reply and walked quickly toward the end of the hall where the ICU area was located.

The nurse rang the emergency bell for security. Before the hospital security could respond, Sheriff Daniels tackled Eddie and cuffed him. The sheriff, who weighed two hundred and thirty pounds, sat on Eddie face-down in the middle of the hallway.

“Edward Winthrop, you are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, drug trafficking, and anything else I can think of between here and the station.” He recited his Miranda rights before helping him to his feet.

“What the hell are you talking about? I came here to visit my client! Sheriff, you are making a really big mistake. This is obstruction of justice. When my father gets through with you, you’ll be lucky to find a job as a meter reader. Now take these damn handcuffs off of me right now!” Eddie screamed.

“Keep it up, Eddie, and I’ll add resisting arrest to my list. I’ve read you your rights. Now shut up and come along peacefully.”

“Oh man, are you going to regret this, Sheriff. I want to make a phone call.”

“Just as soon as we get you down to the station and you’re booked, then you can call your daddy. I don’t doubt that he will be able to bail you out, but you’re in a heap of trouble, son. So if I were you, I would cooperate and get in my squad car without any more outbursts. Are we clear, Eddie?”

As Sheriff Daniels led Eddie out of the building, the two FBI surveillance agents approached the emergency entrance. Special Agent Garza was right behind them.

“Good work, Sheriff. I think our work is done here until the trial. We appreciate your help and cooperation. We have enough evidence to send him away for a long time. How’s Mr. Blackmon doing?”

“His vitals are good and the surgeon upgraded him from the critical to stable. It’s just a matter of time now until he wakes up.”

“That’s good news. We’ll see you in court, young man,” Agent Garza said to Eddie.

“You are all going to be sorry for this! My dad will have me out and the charges dismissed before you get back to Dallas!” Eddie screamed at the agents as Sheriff Daniels pushed his head down and into the back seat of his squad car. He radioed, “Sheriff Daniels to dispatch. In transport with suspect in custody. TOA fifteen minutes. Find me a judge to book this perpetrator. Out.”

BOOK: Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc
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