Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2) (17 page)

“You did it.” Willie Ray reached across the table and laid his hands on mine. Our eyes met. His mood seemed suddenly buoyant. “I knew you could.” He squeezed my hands.

I gulped and slid them out from underneath his.

“Like I said, it wasn’t easy, but I did it and got them here. Now, Curly.” It was her turn to answer my question. “Which key is the one Bo gave Willie?”

Willie picked up the keys and laid them in his palm. She leaned forward and took a long look before she picked each one up. She held them close to her eyes.

“I have no idea.” She shook her head, not telling me what I needed to hear.

“Think please. Take another good look,” I begged. “We only have one good shot at this.” I gave them my reasoning. “If one of these keys holds the secret to why the other guy was in there, we need to have that key because I’m sure the FBI are swarming the bank in case Willie comes back. The FBI knows there is a key missing and they know the key doesn’t belong to the bank where your key belonged.”

“How do you know this?” Trixie asked.

“Before Jax took me off Willie’s case, I read the file. The FBI had the sting in full force when Willie ruined it for them, though they believe he is the suspect they were looking for. The suspect had a key to get into a safety deposit box in your bank. In their safety deposit box, there was another key to a different bank’s safety deposit box where are the answers the FBI are looking for. I have no idea what one of these keys will unlock, but it’s something big if the FBI had a big sting and threw Willie in jail, sentencing him to death for killing the agent. And Charlie Haskel overheard two men on the dock the other night talking about getting the key back.”

“Charlie Haskel is a drunk.” Curly tapped the table. “We can’t listen to a word he says.”

“That’s not true,” I corrected her. “He actually knows a lot. I had the pleasure of getting to know him on the way to and from the prison. Long story short, people see Charlie but they don’t
really see
Charlie. He blends in and people think he’s too drunk to know what is going on.” An evil grin crossed my lips. “He knows exactly what is going on. He’s a better gossip than any henny hen in town.” I slowly nodded. “He didn’t visually see the people talking smack about Willie, but everything he said they said, fits with Willie’s story.”

“See.” Willie Ray sat back, pride on his face. “I told you I was innocent.” His face softened, he licked his lips. “We would be married right now if this hadn’t happened.”

“No you wouldn’t.” Trixie jumped up and pounded the table with a flat hand. “I would have had it annulled before the night was over and you.” She glared at Curly and pointed her crooked finger. I closed my eyes. She was about to give Curly a beat down. I had been on the receiving end of her finger before. Downright scary. Her voice steady and stern, “If you and Bo Dean were going to approve these two youngins getting married, shame on you. Why. . .why Laurel would have five babies by now and Willie Ray would be smoking and drinking himself silly.”

“Now don’t you go around here throwing stones.” It was Curly’s turn to stand up and give it back to Trixie. “Bo and I raised Willie like he was our own, not like some crazy women in charge of an orphanage!” She pointed back at Trixie.

“Enough!” I screamed and put my hands over my ears, sucked in a deep breath and continued, “This is not helping the here and now.”

“We would be married.” Willie wouldn’t shut up. “Damn. You are fine.”

“Seriously?” I tilted my head to the side. “You are on the lam and you want to think about being married?” I threw my hands in the air and got up. “If that’s the case, I’m done with helping you.”

“Oh, you can’t do that.” Trixie calmed down. “We have to tell the authorities about the keys.”

“No.” I shook my head. “I want to find out everything I can before I give them the keys.”

“Why?” Curly wasn’t happy with my answer.

“Because Jax Jackson let me know that if I was helping Willie in any way, even if he is innocent, they are going to charge me with aiding and abetting which is a prison sentence.”

“Now you have done it again.” Trixie nervously pat the curls to her head. “I really did think you’d get better with age.” She shook her head.

I know she wanted to blurt out something about The Gorilla and my ties to the bad mob, but she wasn’t going to do it in front of company.

“Fine.” Curly sat back down. Calmly she asked, “Do you have a plan?”

“Think back to the bank safety deposit box,” I encouraged Willie. “Were there any papers or anything with a hint of the keys?”

Willie Ray looked into the distance. His eyes narrowed. His jaw tensed.

“It was so fast.” He swallowed. “I was so nervous because I knew after I got the money Curly and Bo wanted me to use on us, I was heading down to Nashville to marry you.”

“We got that,” Trixie said blandly.

“Shh.” I jerked my head toward her and then back to him as he continued, “The bank lady opened the safety deposit room door and two men were in there with masks on. One was dead on the ground and the other was shuffling through papers. He turned the gun on us. The teller screamed and he shot her.”

My eyes welled with tears. It was the first time I had heard his side of the story and not read it in the paper or seen it on the news.

“Next thing I knew, I had passed out.” He paused.

“So, the real killer took the opportunity to wipe off his prints on the gun and get the hell out of there.” I was talking out loud and throwing things out there. “I had read they didn’t hear the gunshots because there was a silencer on it.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “There was no way I was able to afford a gun, much less one with a silencer.”

“Then how were you going to support a wife?” Trixie wouldn’t let it go.

Curly muttered a few words under her breath; Willie and I ignored them both as we spouted different scenarios back and forth.

“In your file, it said the FBI had the tape from the bank. They had to miss something.” I tapped my finger on the table. “I have to get in there.”

My mind rewound to the time I had gone with Johnny Delgato to the FBI headquarters in Louisville. It wasn’t like it was hard to get around and I could definitely use some fast-talking and southern charm to get in. The rest, I’d have to wing it.

“I know you can do it and you have a plan, but I’m worried you are going to put yourself in more danger.” The corners of Willie’s eyes dipped.

“I’m fine,” I assured him, trying to ignore Trixie and Curly’s war of words over top of us. I grabbed the keys and put them back in my purse. “Let’s go.”

“My pleasure.” Trixie walked over to Willie and kissed his head. “Laurel will figure this out.”

Curly grabbed Willie around the neck from the other direction nearly knocking him out of his chair. “Yes she will.”

I was glad they were so confident, but I was getting in deeper and deeper and with the big boys. I wasn’t sure how far my petty skills would take me, but I knew I needed to come up with a plan between now and tomorrow morning.

Chapter Nineteen

Trixie had fallen fast asleep, snoring in the passenger side of the Old Girl before we had gotten home from Curly’s last night. It took me several hours to quiet my mind and get a couple hours shut eye. My mind had to be in tip top form if I was going to try to get in the FBI and snag a copy of the tape.

I put on a pair of black pants and a white blouse. I had noticed the last time I was at the FBI offices, the employees wore basic black or blue in the office area. I had gotten my fake FBI badge out of my drawer and stuck it in my hobo bag. My eyes glided over to my phone on the dresser. If I took out the SIM card and the battery, he wouldn’t be able to track me and I’d have my phone if I needed it. I wasn’t sure what was up Jax’s sleeve and I didn’t want him to track me and see what I was doing today. When I got back to Walnut Grove, I’d be sure to pick up Henrietta before I took Sharon Fasa to her daily appointment wherever that was.

Trixie and Henrietta were in the kitchen with the small TV turned on the news. The reporter was reporting live from the edge of Walnut Grove, cameras focused on a checkpoint.

“They have Walnut Grove cordoned off from the rest of the world.” Trixie took a bite of her burnt toast sending crumbs down her blue tee. Henrietta licked them off her.

I picked up Henrietta and rubbed down her back while I watched the broadcast. Eric was being interviewed. I groaned at his arrogance and put Henrietta down, swiping the cat hair off my clothes.

“I’m out of here.” I grabbed a piece of the burnt toast out of the toaster. I kissed Trixie on the head. “Be sure to keep the doors locked and remember to call Derek if the alarms sound.”

In the back of my head, I knew Johnny wasn’t going to do anything yet. In the past, he would have tried to get in touch with me several times before his threats became action. I just had to sit and wait until I heard from him or one of his minions on the outside. No doubt I was going to hear from him, but when?

Unfortunately, I had bigger fish to fry today.

I jumped in the Old Girl and headed back into town taking a right on First Street, parking right in front of Jax’s building. There were several dark cars, consistent with unmarked cop cars, lining the streets of Walnut Grove.

“Good morning,” I said and headed straight for Jax who was behind his desk. “I wanted to stop by and tell you nothing happened last night with the cameras and alarms.”

“Why where you at Curly Dean’s last night?” Eric sat on the edge of his desk. A glass coffee cup in his hand. He tugged on his pants at the knee; settling in the position, he got comfortable.

“Are you following me now?” I quipped.

“You two stop.” Jax sounded exhausted.

“I’ve noticed small town folks like to stick together.” Eric lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. The steam rolled up and around his eyes. They bore into me. “You never know who is helping a good ole boy from around here. Can you, Jax?”

“I’m telling you. Laurel and Trixie visit people all the time.” Jax looked at me. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“You look nice.” Eric’s head tilted, his eyes lowered. “Where are you off to this morning? Taking someone to the doctor with your little Drive Me app? Or taking your cat for a walk on her leash?”

“You are such an asshole,” I spit, rolling my eyes. “Obviously you aren’t good at your job or you’d have Willie Ray Bowman in custody by now.”

Eric popped his cup on Jax’s desk and stood up. Fire was in his eyes.

“You listen to me you petty criminal.” He got nose to nose with me.

“Wow, no wonder you are so angry.” I cackled. “You are my height. Little man syndrome much?”

Jax laughed. “Man, she can hold her own.”

Eric grabbed the ringing phone off his hip.

“Eric here,” he answered. “Yeah. Where? Now?” He nodded for Jax to come on.

Jax grabbed his keys.

“It must be something about Willie. Lock up.” Jax and Eric bolted.

Panic welled in my throat when I saw the urgency in Eric. Did someone find Willie? Was he careless and got caught? My stomach clenched tight. My throat dried.

I walked next door to Dean’s Florist and tapped on the window. Curly looked up from the fresh-cut bouquet she was working on. There were several customers picking out different colored mums.

Our eyes met. Slightly she nodded and picked up the phone. It was our little way of communicating about Jax and Eric. She knew to call Willie and tell him to be careful and lie low.

I went back into Jackson PI, trying to decide what I needed to do. It wasn’t like I could run out to the Deans’ farm and warn Willie, just in case that was where Eric and Jax were going. Curly was taking care of it; which made me feel somewhat better.

“God, I need coffee.” I glanced down at Eric’s coffee cup. “Gross,” I groaned when I saw smudged chocolate fingerprints around it. “Not gross.” I eyed the prints with excitement.

The FBI headquarters in Louisville was easy to walk into; it was the extra fun rooms that required the key cards or the fingerprint machine. Supposedly all headquarters had all the agents’ prints on file and they could roam freely into any area of the buildings all over the world.

I didn’t know how much time I had, but I knew Jax had all the equipment to lift a fingerprint off the mug.

The closet next to the equipment closet was filled with dusting powders and all sorts of concoctions Jax used in his PI cases. The Cyanoacrylate was located on the top shelf in the back. The solutions gassed out and reacted with the fat residue to a solid, white substance. It was exactly what I needed to help duplicate Eric’s fingerprint so I could get around freely in the FBI headquarters.

I grabbed the bottle and tucked it in my elbow; opening the equipment closet, I grabbed a digital camera. I needed an exact image of Eric’s fingerprint. I needed to make a mold of it and the easiest way was to print the image on a transparency slide using Jax’s laser printer. The toner in the copy formed a good print to help make a dummy print.

Quickly I worked, making sure I was doing the steps I knew to make a good dummy print. Time wasn’t on my side and I had one shot to get this right. Even if they did get Willie in custody, I could still prove he didn’t do it.

I went back to the chemical closet and grabbed some wood glue and glycerin. Using the mixture, I coated the dummy copy with a thin layer of the compound.

While I let it dry, I grabbed the theatrical glue from the closet and stuck it in my hobo bag along with a pair of scissors. I grabbed the dummy print, careful not to smudge it and locked Jax’s office door behind me.

The fingerprint would be perfectly dry by the time I got to Louisville and I’d be able to use the theatrical glue to adhere Eric’s fingerprint over top mine. Voilà. There wasn’t a better way to get a new identity.

“Can I help you?” The FBI agent at the checkpoint asked after he stopped me on I-25 on the way out of town heading toward Louisville.

“I’m going shopping.” I smiled. My voice dripped with Southern charm.