The Second Lie (35 page)

He had to get Chuck talking. To distract him somehow. To...

"Tell me about the tennis club," Kyle said, calling up anything he could remember that Sam had told him about her theories.

"What about it?"

"It's part of your operation, right?"

"Hell, no. It's a charity club. Started by a friend of mine. But when we came up with the perfect plan and needed kids, it was a fucking cesspool of possibilities."

"The perfect plan?" Kyle asked.

"Yeah, man." Yale, who was apparently more stupid than he looked, popped off again. "A cop giving packages of drugs to kids to deliver. They're told to do their job and shut up or they'll be in jail. Or, worse, lose all the dough they're making and--"

Chuck's gun fired again. Missing Yale's foot by about an inch. The knife slid along his neck. Kyle could feel the blood dripping down.

"And who'd ever think anything of a cop meeting with kids?" Kyle said quickly.

"That's right," Chuck said. "And if one squealed, like Glenna was about to, well...you see what happened to her."

"Glenna, did she play tennis, too?"

"Nope. She babysits for my little sis. And when I heard about the horrible time she was having with her mom so sick and all..."

"You just had to help out." Kyle didn't bother to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Wasn't much chance he was going to live to see another day and he'd wasted too much of his life hiding.

"I needed another layer of protection," Chuck said. "That's how these things work. You never deal directly with anyone. There's always an extra layer, so if one gets peeled, there's another beneath."

"Even an onion runs out of layers eventually."

"Guess it's good I never acquired a taste for onions."

The man was smart. Too bad he didn't have a soul.

"So what's the plan, Chuck?" Kyle asked. If he was going to die, he wanted it done. He was not going to sit here and sweat.

"The plan, my friend, is for you to shut up."

"I'll shut up just as soon as you tell me the plan."

"The plan is..." Chuck moved closer, grinning in a way that made Kyle want to punch the guy in the jaw. "That you are going to sit right there like a good little soldier, country boy. And when Sam gets here--" he looked at his watch "--which should be in about half an hour from now, based on how fast she drives that machine of hers.... When she gets here--" Chuck took another step toward Kyle, the gun pointed at him "--you get to watch me teach her the lesson she just refused to learn. She isn't the savior of the world. She couldn't learn to listen. To follow directions. And look where it got us."

Kyle could see pretty clearly. He'd promised to stay silent as long as Chuck talked. Because as long as he was talking, he wasn't shooting.

"You'll never get away with this, Chuck. Sam has a lot of friends in this town. People with money and power who will ask more questions than were asked about the poor girl. Or Bob."

Chuck actually laughed. "You're such a fool, country boy. You know why folks aren't asking questions about Bob? Because one or two of those 'important' people you're talking about don't want news of our little operation here to get around."

"
They know?"

"Hell, yes, they know. It's why the whole thing started. Meth was everywhere. The people who were using it were going to keep using it. And they were making Mexicans rich while southern Ohio died a slow economic death. American money was going to Mexico and we couldn't afford to pay our cops. Public health was almost bankrupt. Hell, at the rate we were going, we couldn't pay the electricity at the courthouse. Where do you think the money's going, country boy? Do I look rich to you?"

Kyle wasn't sure whether to believe the man or not. "You didn't keep any of the money."

"Okay, well, sure, I kept some. It's put away safe. And when there's enough of it to last me the rest of my life, I'm moving to Florida."

"You're not going to get away with this," Kyle said again. He had to believe he was right. So they had some corrupt officials; Chandler was filled with good, honest people who'd take back their town. "When word gets out..."

"But we're the only ones who know, Kyle. You see? Just us and pretty soon Sam. So you see the problem."

"You're going to kill her."

"After I fuck her," Chuck said. "She'll learn her place before she dies. And you're going to watch, Kyle. You know why? Because all these years, she's been your woman and you just couldn't ever get it right. You couldn't ever teach her her place. You failed me, my man. So it's good, really--poetic justice--that you showed up poking around here today. And this evening, all will finally be well. I'll get Sam." The man cupped his dick. "And then I'll kill her. And when you've seen what a failure you are, I'll kill you, too. And stage the whole thing to make it look like you killed her and then yourself. Because after I'm done with her, I'm going to kill Samantha Jones with her own gun."

Kyle knew one thing. Chuck Sewell was not going to lay a hand on Sam.

He didn't have to pretend to sweat. Or to worry. He went right ahead and let Chuck see his fear.

And he listened for Sam's car...

Sweat poured down Kyle's back and he blinked against the harsh light of the conference room, barely registering that he was sitting there with Ben and Todd. He took the bottle of water that was offered him. And when Sam walked in the door, he passed out.

Chandler, Ohio
Tuesday, October 5, 2010

It was after ten when my cell phone rang. Maggie had been in bed for half an hour. But when Sam told me she was on her way over and to get the girl up, I did.

"What's going on?" Maggie asked, wearing flannel sleep pants and a yellow T-shirt with hearts stitched across the front. She followed me, barefoot, out to the couch.

"I'm not sure," I lied, sick to my stomach with worry. As I'd been pretty much all night.

Sam had told me they'd arrested Maggie's mom, but we'd decided to wait to tell the girl.

Because we still couldn't finger Mac. Maggie was going to have to tell us, even if it meant we took her to jail for withholding information.

I didn't have any coffee to make for Sam. Wouldn't know how to make it if I had it, since I can't stand the stuff. But I needed to keep busy so that Maggie wouldn't see how badly I was shaking.

I thought about putting Camy outside. But what if Mac was out there? What if he knew that Maggie was here with me? Like he'd known about Glenna's death. What if he was waiting for a chance to take the girl?

I put water on to boil to make hot chocolate instead. And forgot to turn on the stove.

The three of us--Maggie and Camy and I--were in the living room when I heard Sam's Mustang in my driveway. Not wanting her out there by herself, cop or not, I waited by the front door. She wasn't alone. Kyle Evans was with her.

I'm not even sure we said hello.

"What happened to you?" I asked Kyle, staring at the bandage on his neck.

"Later," he said. "I'm fine now, and there's something much more important we have to do right now."

I glanced at Sam. She nodded. "He lost a lot of blood, but we've filled him up with orange juice and the medic says he's good to go. We went out to his place and got him a change of clothes, then came straight here. We've had a car watching this place since early this evening."

Feeling as if I'd just fallen into Alice's rabbit hole, the nightmare version of it, I led the way into the living room.

We sat--me and Maggie on the love seat and Sam and Kyle on the couch.

Sam glanced at me. I nodded, but couldn't breathe.

"Maggie, your mother's been arrested," Sam said.

"What?" The girl's eyes got wide, and she leaned forward, her arms gripping her stomach. "For what?" I tensed.

"For selling you."

"That's crazy. My mom didn't sell me. She'd never do that. And besides, I'm right here. If she'd sold me, I'd be gone or something." Her face was ghostly white. I took hold of her hand.

She pulled it away.

"Maggie, do you remember when that man joined your Internet group, the one you told me about?" I asked. "The one with the kids who are sick like Jeanine."

"What man?"

"We know, Maggie. We know all about the packages you deliver."

Maggie's gaze dropped to the floor. She rocked back and forth. "The man you met on that site, the one who told you about a way to help those kids who were in so much pain because their parents couldn't afford to pay for all of the medications that would help them--that man was Chuck Sewell."

Maggie's head shot up. "No, it wasn't," she said, staring me straight in the eye. And then she looked over at Sam. "It wasn't."

"Chuck's been selling drugs all over Ohio, Maggie," Sam said. "He used a lot of people in many different ways, finding dealers from all kinds of places, but mostly he used kids."

"I'm not surprised about that. I told my mom the guy was a creep. But I swear, I haven't had anything to do with him. I wouldn't. And there's no way I'd sell drugs." She turned to me, and I took her hand again.

This time, almost as though she sensed she was going to need the contact, she held on.

"Your mom gave Chuck the information to join that site, Maggie. And she gave him your screen name."

Maggie didn't say anything.

"And the tennis club your mom had you join? Chuck told her about that, too. Some of the other kids that were playing tennis were already delivering drugs, and Chuck thought that if you met them, and got to know them, then if you ever started to worry about what you were doing, you'd have a group of kids who were just like you, doing the same things."

"I didn't deliver drugs," Maggie said, head bent. "I delivered medication to families who had sick kids and no money to pay for it."

"That's what you were told."

"That's what I did."

I sat forward, like Maggie, letting Sam grill the girl. There was more coming, and it all rested on Maggie.

"Did you ever look in the bags?"

"No. I was told not to. If something got opened or dropped or contaminated, there'd be that much less to go around."

"You were told not to so you couldn't implicate yourself if you were caught," Sam said. "And so you wouldn't know that what you were delivering was crystal meth. Your mother told us all about the plan."

Maggie needed to understand that she couldn't trust anyone but us. It was the only way this was going to work. The only way to save her.

Sam had her man. But unless Maggie implicated him, he was going to walk. They had nothing on him but the hearsay statement of a dead man.

A statement only Kyle had heard. I assumed that was why he was here with us. Not that I cared. I was glad for his presence.

Kyle was one of those guys that instilled a sense of security just by being around.

"Chuck wasn't working alone, Maggie," Sam said, and I tensed. "There was another man. We think it's the man you told Kelly about. Mac."

The girl's head darted up, her eyes filled with steel. "No way. Leave Mac out of this."

"These are bad men." I meant to let Sam do all the talking, but I butted in. "Sweetie, they killed Glenna."

The girl said nothing. Showed no reaction. Mac's hold on her was strong.

"They tried to kill Sam tonight, too," Kyle added, earning him a stare from Maggie.

"Chuck did," Sam said.

"He did?" My friend hadn't filled me in on that little detail.

"He took a shot at me," Sam said, watching Maggie. "Kyle tackled him, though, so he missed."

"He'd have killed her, anyway," Kyle said. "But Sam got him first."

"You killed Chuck Sewell?" Eyes wide, Maggie shifted her focus from Kyle to Sam, her voice filled with awe.

"Yeah."

Oh. God. I'd had no idea Chuck was dead. Or that Sam had... I'd be working with her for months on that one. Hopefully with her cooperation.

"He's really dead?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, he's really dead."

Maggie jutted he chin out. "Well, I'm not sorry."

"And that's okay, Maggie," I told her. "It's natural and understandable."

"The point is, Chuck wasn't working alone," Sam explained. "Your mother told us that another man gave you your packages to deliver. You were the only one that didn't take delivery from Chuck."

"Why?" I asked, giving Maggie time to digest what she was hearing. She needed to figure out for herself that Mac was a liar--and that if he'd lied to her about the drugs, he'd probably lied to her about his feelings for her, too. She needed to process the fact that Mac was friends with Chuck Sewell. And I also asked because I wanted to know.

"Two reasons, according to the signed statement from Maggie's mom," Sam said. "First, because Lori knew that her daughter would never, ever work with Chuck."

I had to wonder about that, and made a mental note to myself to ask Maggie exactly why she hated the deputy so much.

"And second, because the number-one rule in the organization was to keep a distance. There was always someone between a contact and a point person. Chuck's partner brought in all the other distributors, so Chuck delivered. And Chuck brought Maggie to the party, so his partner delivered."

There, that should close the deal for Maggie. Should make the girl angry enough to deliver Mac to us.

Despair would follow. I knew that. And an inability to trust. We had a lot of work ahead of us, me and Maggie. I was worried sick about her. About the coming months.

About the next few days. With her mother in jail, Child Services would be looking to place Maggie in a foster home. I wanted her.

Period.

Sam sat forward, moving closer to Maggie. Instinctively, I moved closer, too. I was trembling. But then so was Maggie.