Someone Bad and Something Blue (20 page)

 

“I
can't believe we're back here. She obviously didn't want the clothes.” Sanchez adjusted her shades and looked down at me.

“Stop acting like a spoiled brat,” Maxim said. “There are plenty of knickknacks and paddy-whacks inside for you.”

“Whatever . . .” She rolled her eyes. “There are a few food spots nearby. Are we eating soon? I'm starved.”

“Might as well, because once we meet up with the Charlton County Sheriff's Department there won't be time to enjoy a hot meal, except for Angel,” Maxim said.

“And you, too, Sanchez, since you'll be with her. Our budget will pay for you to eat scraps from Angel's table.” Ty chuckled.

“Oh, that's right.” She smirked. “I'll bring you a doggy bag, then.”

Everyone laughed, but I kept my mouth closed, although I felt all eyes were on me. I looked at Sanchez, Ty, and JD and hoped that one of them was the mole. Yet in the short time we'd been together I wasn't so sure. Could Rosary be sending us all into a trap? I didn't know what to believe.

We decided to eat at Michael's Deli, a sandwich pub franchise. It had a few locations in Atlanta. There was one in Suwanee, not far from Discover Mills, where I liked to shop. Here it was across the street from Dollar General and I was snug now in a men's plaid hunting jacket and a pair of Dickies work pants. Maxim's task force felt comfortable eating at someplace we knew, plus they had a discount for law enforcement officers. Of course, I technically didn't qualify for the LE discount, but when you're hanging with these guys, no one noticed.

Then it hit me. We couldn't use the discount. What if Biloxi's supporters work here? I stepped in front of Maxim. “I'll take care of lunch. My treat.”

“Thank you, but men don't eat off a woman's dime.” He leaned down toward me, looked me in the eye, and whispered, “Don't worry about it. I'm not stupid enough to use the LE discount. Glad to see you're on your toes, though.”

Even though it was March, it suddenly felt July hot. I nodded and walked away to find a table where we could all eat together. Real talk. I needed to remove myself from Maxim's hotness.

My plan backfired. Maxim sat beside me after he paid the tab. Ty sat to my left, Sanchez across from him, and JD was flirting with our server at the counter.

“How much of that jacket on The Knocker do we need to share with the authorities?” I asked Maxim.

“A good bit of it came from them. Why do you ask?”

“If we're going by the information they have gathered and sat on for years, why should we expect to get the same results?”

“Good question.” He paused, while the server brought us our food. “Do you want to know how I got you approved to run with us?”

“It wasn't because of my relationship with Rosary or my knowledge of moonshine stills.”

Ty chuckled. “Angel, JD and I are ATF agents. There isn't much we don't know about moonshine.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “Hmm . . . I thought it was my skimpy blue dress that won you guys over.”

Ty chuckled; Sanchez scoffed.

“I always miss the good stuff,” JD mumbled.

“You wish.” Maxim grinned. “My boss and my boss's boss think that I brought you down here as bait to lure Biloxi out. Remember, he saw you and let you go. They tend to think he let you go because he needed you to verify his presence there, so he could claim the killing. But I think it's more than that.”

My heart fluttered and raced at the same time. I was scared. I gulped. “Like what?”

“He has something to say and he wants you to have the exclusive.”

I frowned. “But I'm not a journalist anymore.”

“No, you're better. You're an outcast and a hunter like he is now.”

“I'm nothing like him, and I don't appreciate you keep bringing this up here. My mom and dad made sure we didn't associate with those people.”

“Except Uncle Pete.”

“No, I associate with Aunt Mary. Uncle Pete is a handicap.”

“But you put money on Rosary's commissary. Her family are moonshiners, too.”

“Because I empathize with her. I could have been her.”

“Why is that?”

“Let it go, Maxim.”

“When I learned that you were taking Unc's course I did a minor background on his class, a Google search really. Since I would be pinch-teaching for his class, I wanted to know who I was dealing with.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “And what did you think you learned about me?”

“I understand why you and your twin are so different.”

“Return Uncle Pete's trucks when you're done, because I'm out.” I stood up. “I can catch the Greyhound home. They're quite familiar with me.”

“Angel, I'm not begging you to stay or sit down. Like I said before—this isn't that kind of show. If you want to find your friend and help us bring in a killer before he kills again, then swallow your pride and put your big girl panties on.”

Maxim had pissed me off, but he had a point. However, I made a promise to never go back to that life and I'm not going back now, even for Rosary. I plopped back down and huffed. “If you want me to help you, then you take me and my family out of the equation.”

“Unfortunately, that's exactly why I added you to my team. Angel, I didn't bring you here to be a sitting duck or to scoop up a missing informant. You're here because I need you to use that beautiful brain of yours and hunt him just like he wants you to.”

I sucked my teeth. “You sound as crazy as this Knocker guy is.”

“Crazy recognizes crazy.” He grinned.

“Then you know what I can do.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and stared at me intensely. “That's what I want you to do.”

“I know what you want, but that doesn't mean that I will.”

“I believe you will,” he said. “Just remember to keep it on the hush until I figure out whether the leak is coming from either you or me.”

“Rosary isn't a snitch.”

Maxim knitted his brows at me.

“I'll prove you wrong,” I said.

“And if I'm right?”

“I'll tell you about me and Ava.”

He snickered. “As if that were a prize. . . .”

“It is to a riddle solver like you.”

He didn't respond.

I nodded my head. “Like I thought. . . .”

After we ate our lunch—mine was a potato soup and a half turkey club sandwich—Maxim wanted to run by the plan again. We would meet the sheriffs in fifteen minutes.

“And what about ground cover?” Sanchez looked around us. “How many men will be joining us when we fan out?”

“From what I've been told we have about twenty brave men and women at our disposal to go into Okefenokee with us this weekend. I don't want any of them harmed, so we need to find the fugitive and get him out of here before he does any more damage.”

Any more damage?
My heart raced.

“What about the fires?” JD asked.

Since spring there had been three forest fires slowly scorching through the swamps: Honey Prairie Fire, Sweat Farm Again Fire, and Racepond Fire. Two had been contained, but the oldest, Honey Prairie, was as stubborn as an aged dog lying in front of the front door. We could smell the smoke all the way back to Valdosta and all the way back to Adel.

“There will be a few rangers with us because of the fires, and I've ordered plenty of water to keep us hydrated,” Ty said. Since our time together with the Luxe sting, I felt very comfortable with his logistical skills. I hoped he wasn't a mole. “Oh yeah, and some volunteer firemen, too.”

I began to choke on my cola. “Did you say volunteer firemen?”

He nodded and patted my back. “You have to be careful drinking those things.”

I nodded, then tugged Sanchez's arm. “Can I use your phone to make a call?”

“Sure, but I don't know if my service is any better than yours.”

“I'm pretty sure GSA BlackBerries have greater reach.”

“True.” She handed me her phone. “By the way, why did you cough when Ty mentioned volunteer firemen? I know you're not sick.”

“It was nothing. Just sick thinking on my part.”

“What were you thinking?”

“Wouldn't it be crazy if our distiller was a fireman? He would always know when rangers, ATF, or any law enforcement were near his stills. He could camouflage the mash burn with a fire.” I shook the thought off with my hand. “I apologize. It's years of searching for angles when I worked at
The Sentinel
. Most of the time they're so farfetched it gets me into trouble. Ask my sister Ava. Hope I didn't offend anyone.”

“You only shared your theory with me, so you're good. No one pays attention to me anyway.” Sanchez smirked. “Don't take long with my phone.”

While they talked strategy, I stepped on the other side of the ATV to make my calls. I chatted with Mom about how pretty it still was here, said nothing to her about Uncle Pete, and said countless love yous to Bella. She asked me if I could bring her an alligator. I told her I would. Then I called Justus. No answer, just voice mail.

“Angel, we have to go now.” Maxim's voice made me jump again.

“Justus, I love you,” I spat out and closed the phone.

Then I cringed.
Did I mean to say that?

 

W
e introduced ourselves to members of the U.S. Marshal's Southeast Regional Fugitive Task Force (SERFTF), the Charlton County Sheriff's Department, and the other local law enforcement officers in the area who could lend us help around two in the afternoon. Since the sheriff's department had the legal jurisdiction over the operation, Maxim, who led the manhunt, had to run his plan by them and with SERFTF. The longer they chatted, the more nervous I became. Eyes were on me; I stood out like a red rose in the snow.

While we waited the county staff gave us an empty boardroom near the front entrance. Apparently, one of our assignments was to set up and monitor the crime stopper anonymous tips hotline. A few citizens had volunteered to run calls, but Sanchez wasn't having it until they were vetted. I admired how she didn't want to be the weakest link on the task force. At the same time I didn't want to spend my days down here stuck inside, waiting for phone calls.

Unlike Atlanta, Folkston didn't have the infrastructure to facilitate high tech toys and Wi-Fi. It was a small town that didn't need or welcome big city interruptions. I remember seeing a water tower, some power lines, and a few phone towers. That was it.

From my short stint with Maxim and his crew they didn't rely on local reserves anyway. They brought their own games to play: a Super Wi-Fi hub, walkie talkies, digital tablets, surveillance equipment, and the kinds of guns you saw in action movies.

I also saw some good old fashioned police work among the sheriffs: initiating traffic check points, pounding the pavement, and looking into every possible lead that was called in. It reminded me of my time at the
Atlanta Sentinel.
There was a lot of butt-in-chair work, definitely not as exciting as chasing down a gambler near the Greyhound Station. Being a bail recovery agent wasn't the most prestigious job, but its version of dull was a ray of sunshine down from where I sat.

One of the deputy sheriffs walked into our task force headquarters, stopped in the middle of the room, and scratched his head. “Why would a wanted fugitive hang around a small town with so much law enforcement checking under the beds? This place is too small to hide.”

Ty was double checking his firearms on the long table to my right. Maxim was out in the main office talking with the sheriffs and other law enforcement. I didn't know why this guy wasn't with him or whether Maxim had sent him back because he had gotten on his nerves. Whatever the reason, he shouldn't have come back here without Maxim. Ty, JD, and Sanchez weren't charming like Maxim and didn't care to be.

“The city is small, but the land is vast. Best thing to do is not confuse the two.” Ty looked up and returned to what he was doing.

The sheriff scratched his head. “You didn't really answer my question.”

I stepped forward and smiled to him. “Ty means that although this area is comprised of small towns, it's still a huge area to cover, a lot of places to hide. And we're also creatures of habit. If this place is home to our convict, then this is where he'll be or eventually will return to. The challenge is whether or not we will be in place when he returns.”

“If not, we'll be here to catch him.” The sheriff chuckled.

“Sounds like a plan, Sheriff.”

Sanchez walked behind me and whispered. “You're not PR for us. Walk away from this guy and get to work.”

I shrugged her off, but she had a point. I thanked her and moved on.

JD sat at one desk, talking on the phone to his sources and local farming suppliers about any current captive bolt and firearm sales. I could have told him that no one in their right mind would buy their ammo from the same place they laid their head. My Uncle Pete was a disgrace to the family, but he wasn't an idiot.

“JD, why don't you check the local post office for any shipments from a gaming supplier. If that doesn't turn up anything, check a marina service. Fernandina Beach and St. Marys aren't far. Savannah. . . if it were me, I would take a short boat to Jacksonville to get a stunner.”

JD took the phone receiver away from his head. “Angel, no offense, little lady, but I got this. This is what I do.”

I shrugged. “Just trying to help.”

Sanchez sat at the desk closer to mine. I wanted to bounce off her my theories about the Knocker's mode of operation (MO), but she was busy interviewing a few locals about known moonshine stills. Besides, she still hadn't warmed up to me.

I decided to work on a hunch. For Uncle Pete's freedom he had given us the proper vehicles to drive into the swamps and maps of where he thought a rival moonshiner kept stills. One still was about thirty miles from here near Kingsland. I wondered if the volunteer firemen assigned to help us would know anything about that. More than likely not. The moonshine distribution and sales system was very intricate and existed on an elaborate system of secrets.

We called it the double blind system, whereby the moonshiner and the moonshine client didn't know each other. They worked through a middle man, so if they were caught by law enforcement, neither could rat out the other, because neither knew who the other party was. The middle man was the prize. That middle man was Sean and from the little information Detective Page had gathered from his house and offices, he kept everything in his head or with Rosary. The more I thought of how deep Rosary and Sean were into this foolishness, the sicker I felt. I understood why Rosary would be caught up in this, but Sean . . . ? If I could solve that riddle we would find The Knocker, Rosary, the leak, and then some.

My leg began to twitch. I decided to take a walk around the office.

Maxim stood in the front boardroom at the whiteboard speaking with the sheriffs and another woman, who I assumed was the district chief for this region. I read his lips about his plan of attack through the swamps to find The Knocker and his decision to assign me and Sanchez to stick around here to continue interviewing locals. I cringed when I saw the words fall from his lips.

I understood his logic, but it still didn't feel right. Sanchez and I were tough enough to fight the swamps. Shoot, I was the only one around here who hadn't gotten attacked by the mosquitoes from Hell. But I also felt that singling her out would backfire. He should have separated the ATF guys, not his deputy marshal.

He must have seen the worried look on my face, because a few minutes after his discussion with the task force he found me. I was outside on the back-end side of headquarters, watching the sea gulls hunting for earthworms on the side of the dirt road a few yards ahead. He carried a bitten apple in his hand; I tried to hide my iced honey bun in my lap.

“What's with that look on your face?” Maxim asked.

“I'm missing my daughter.”

“Of course, you are.” He handed his phone to me. “You'll get better reception with this.”

I thanked him and dialed. To my surprise Mom picked up the phone.

“Are you done? Did you catch him already?” she asked.

“No, ma'am. We just got here about an hour ago.”

“An hour ago? But you left last night.”

“Yeah, well . . . we stayed over in Valdosta first, actually Lake Park.”

Mom sighed; I cringed again. “I hope your trip there meant you put my brother-in-law under the jail.”

“No, ma'am. He loaned us some equipment to help speed things along.”

“Are you calling me to tell me that you have forgiven that maniac?” Her voice grew louder.

“No, ma'am. That's not why I called. I called to let you know I was fine and to speak to Bella.”

She huffed. “She's not here. She's at Girl Scouts or had you forgotten?”

“No, ma'am. I didn't know if you would take her today.”

“I didn't. Justus did. He drove all the way here to pick her up. He thought it would be good if we kept her world as normal as possible while you're gone. At first I didn't agree, but she looked so happy when I told her she could go. However, I told her we were not sleeping at your house if you didn't get back here by Monday when she has to return to school. I think you may need to hire an au pair if you plan to take up with the Marshals again.”

“Wait a minute. I thought you were supportive of this.”

“I am,” she said. “I just didn't realize how far away you three live from us.”

“Well, I guess before Bella wasn't in school and you and I weren't as close.”

“Right,” she said. “Whitney's an adult. She comes and goes. See her when I see her, but the baby . . . you know when Ava gifted you the PI training it was for you to have more options, mainly options that would give you more stability, not more danger and definitely not to be down there with that snake.” Mom referred to Uncle Pete.

“Uncle Pete will get what's coming to him. Trust,” I said.

“A good butt whooping would do for the time being. Make sure you make that happen before you leave from down there.”

“That's a done dollar.” I chuckled.

“I know you can't stay long, but before you go let me remind you that Justus is a good man.”

I frowned. “Where is that coming from?”

“I saw your teacher/boss Marshal West on the television this morning. He looks like the type you gravitate toward.”

“What kind of type is that?” I laughed.

“The dangerous type.”

“Mom, don't go there.”

“You know your Uncle Pete. You see what your Aunt Mary has to go through. Y'all are cut from the same cloth. That doesn't mean you have to wear her dress.”

I looked at Maxim then turned my head and whispered, “Mom, he's a Marshal for goodness' sake.”

“And what does that have to do with the price of milk? Men with badges get a license to be bad. You know that.”

I shook my head. “Yes, ma'am. I do.”

“So be careful. I know you'll return to us safe. It's the sound part that concerns me. I love you, baby,” she said, then hung up.

I handed the phone back to Maxim.

“I hope your mom's warning about me sinks in,” he said.

I shook my head. “I don't know what you mean.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot you lie for a living. Keep that up. It'll be helpful here.”

We ate again. This time one of the sheriff's brought in some pit barbecue that was good enough to make you sugar tipsy. I suspected beer in the sauce.

After dinner Maxim handed me Uncle Pete's keys. “Ladies, get yourselves checked in somewhere then join us at the sheriff's office bright and early in the morning. If you need more time than that, wake up earlier.”

I gulped and then nodded. Sanchez didn't say anything. I hoped her silence was an indicator that she wasn't the leak that spilled the beans about Sean and the Luxe sting, because I needed someone to talk to. These guys were too tight-lipped for me. I missed Tiger and Mom's wisecracks. I missed having fun on a hunt.

“We need a place to stay off the beaten path.” I pulled out the wrinkled paper Uncle Pete had shoved in my jean pocket last night and handed it to Sanchez. “There's a B&B not too far from here and that house shop Uncle Pete talked about is in the area.”

Sanchez glanced at the map and passed it back to me. She grinned. “You're beginning to earn your keep.”

“Don't know if you'll think the same after you hear me snore.” I smiled.