Where Truth Lies (19 page)
F
ollowing a hunch that had nagged Matt since his talk with the Badger brothers earlier this week, he drove to their home in Hunterdon County, hoping to come across a green pickup. There was no guarantee he’d find it. Cal and Lou might not be smart enough to think of hiding it, but chances were they worked for someone who had his wits about him. He had to, or he wouldn’t have gotten this far without being caught.
Cal and Lou Badger lived in a big rambling house that hadn’t been painted in several decades. A motorcycle and a beat-up van were parked on the cracked driveway, and half a dozen circulars no one had bothered to pick up littered the front steps.
The backyard was just as bad, with auto parts and other junk scattered throughout. A path led to a shed, and behind the shed, Matt could see a faded blue tarp over what looked like some sort of vehicle.
“Bingo,” he said under his breath.
He walked over to the protective cover and lifted it. Excitement turned into disappointment. The vehicle was nothing more than a John Deere tractor put away for the winter.
He looked around him. The property was small, half an acre at most. He walked over to the four-foot fence and looked into the neighbor’s yard. It was a little more orderly, but the only items in the small expanse of grass were a jungle gym and a sandbox.
Before Matt could retrace his steps, the back door opened and a man in his late sixties whom Matt recognized as Horace Badger stepped out. Although a little shorter than his sons, he was just as powerfully built, and just as mean looking.
“What the hell you’re doing in my backyard?” the man shouted.
“Mr. Badger?” Matt asked. “Mr. Horace Badger?”
“Who wants to know?”
“I came to look at the pickup truck you have for sale.”
Badger came down the steps, resting his hand on a baseball bat propped against the wall. “I ain’t got a pickup for sale.”
“Are you sure? A
green
pickup? I’d be willing to pay a good price for it.”
“Who the hell are you? Who sent you?”
“There was an ad in the paper—”
“Wait a minute.” Badger shook a crooked finger at him. “I know who you are. You’re that Baxter boy.” His voice rose. “Get the hell off my property before I break your knees.”
Matt remained calm. “Come on, now, Mr. Badger. You wouldn’t want to assault an FBI agent, would you?”
“You’re trespassing, boy. That means I can do anything I damn please.” He started hitting the tip of the bat against his palm as he advanced toward Matt.
“Matt!”
Matt glanced over his shoulder. Eddie O’Hara was getting out of his dark-blue BMW. “What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie asked, walking toward him.
“Maybe I should ask you the same question.” Matt looked around. There was nothing but farmland in these parts. “You’re a little far from home, aren’t you?”
“I was on my way to the produce market to pick up a few things when I saw your car.”
“Your friend was trespassing,” Horace said, his tone still belligerent. “And harassing me to boot.”
Eddie took Matt’s arm. “Come on. This looks like a scene from a bad western. Let’s get out of here before Horace calls the cops.”
Matt was beginning to find Eddie’s interference annoying. “What are you all of a sudden? My keeper?”
“Maybe I should be. What’s wrong with you, man? You know what a nasty old goat Horace is. You don’t even need to antagonize him. He sees a face he doesn’t like and he starts swinging.”
He wrapped an arm around Matt’s shoulders. “What did you want with him, anyway?”
“I’m looking for a green pickup truck. Maybe you’ve seen it around?”
“Ah, that elusive pickup. I’ve heard of it, but I can’t say that I’ve seen it.” He waited until they had reached Matt’s Jeep before he asked, “You think Horace pushed Bernie into the river?”
Matt turned around, casting one last glance over his shoulder. Horace was still there. He raised his bat and shook it, as if to discourage him from coming back. “Not him,” Matt replied. “His sons.”
A call to Buzz Brown found the farmer back from Kansas and happy to hear from him.
“Come on over any time, Matt,” Buzz told him on the phone. “You’re always welcome here.”
A few minutes after Matt left the Badgers’ property, he headed toward Suddenly Farm on Route 232. Buzz stood on the front porch when Matt pulled in. “It’s good to see you, son.” He pumped Matt’s hand. “What do you say we go in and have some coffee?” He was a small, almost frail-looking man who, by virtue of his size, should have been anything but a farmer. After fifty years in the business, he continued to amaze skeptics with his stamina, his strength and his genuine love for the land.
“Coffee sounds great,” Matt said. “Do you still make it hot and strong?”
“There ain’t no other way to serve it.”
“Then make it a mug—a big one.”
The farmer chuckled as he led him to a large, immaculate kitchen that had always been the heart of the house, especially in Alma’s days. “How was your trip to Kansas?”
“Interesting. I was all set to move out west, but then my brother said he wanted to come back to Pennsylvania, so here I am, making room for him until he finds his own place.”
“Something tells me you’re happy about his decision.”
“Yeah. Jerry and I always got along. And it ain’t fun to be alone.” He took two large mugs from a cupboard. “How’s your dad?”
“Making the best out of a bad situation. He says hi.”
“You tell him I’m rooting for him. Josh must have lost his marbles when he put Fred in jail.”
“That’s why I’m here, Buzz. There seems to be a new angle to Steven Hatfield’s murder and I was hoping you could help me.”
“Me?” He handed Matt a mug filled with strong, fragrant coffee. “I’ll be glad to help you, but how?”
They walked over to a big maple table where a lazy Susan held containers of sugar, salt, pepper and honey. Buzz took a noisy slurp of coffee. “What’s on your mind, Matt?”
“I was talking to Duke a few days ago and I got curious about that planning board application that was turned down.”
Buzz’s face had turned somber. “That’s a sore subject, Matt.”
“I know, and believe me, I wouldn’t be here, rehashing the past, if I didn’t think it was important.”
Buzz gave a spin to the lazy Susan and watched it whirl around. “Alma loved the farm, as you know. A day didn’t go by without this kitchen being filled with friends, or neighbors or kids, enjoying one of Alma’s famous pies.”
He stopped to take another sip of coffee. “But my Alma was a sick girl. She had bad lungs and every winter, she’d start with her bronchitis and finish off with a nasty case of pneumonia. I almost lost her twice. That second time, the doctor told me she wouldn’t last another winter unless we moved to a sunnier climate, like Arizona or New Mexico.
“Now, you know how much I love the land,” he continued. “And with God as my witness, I hated the thought of my daddy’s farm being turned into a development. Problem is, I never struck it rich. Oh, don’t get me wrong, we lived well, but all the money I made went right back into the business. After I had that talk with Alma’s doctor, I’d lay awake nights, wondering how in hell I was going to support us in Arizona, without the income from the farm. So, when Gordon Shapley, a developer from Delaware, approached me and told me how much he was willing to give me for the land, I couldn’t turn him down. I couldn’t let Alma die.”
“But the application didn’t go through.”
His mouth tightened. “No, and all because of Steven Hatfield. That son of a bitch started harping about how a subdivision of that size would destroy the integrity of the area. He started to talk about higher taxes, increased traffic, sewer problems. You should have heard him. Soon, he had the community so damned worked up, residents were campaigning against the project. He convinced most of the board, too, because only a couple of them voted yes.” His voice dropped. “That winter, Alma died.”
“I’m sorry, Buzz. And I’m sorry to make you relive those difficult times.”
“It’s all right. Although, I must admit, I don’t see the connection.”
“I’ll explain in a minute. Right now, tell me why Steven was so opposed to developing the farm.”
“I told you. He felt that this area of Bucks County—”
“Should remain pristine. Yes, I heard you, but unless my radar’s way off, Steven wasn’t exactly a tree hugger, was he?”
“He sure wasn’t. In fact, there were times when he voted for a project that had no chance of getting through—like that gas station so close to Glen-wood Estates.”
“Did he have a problem with you in particular?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Alma?”
“No.” He walked over to the counter, picked up the glass carafe and brought it back. “Refill?”
“Please.”
He sat down again. “What I can’t understand,” he said, “is what caused such a turnaround on Steven’s part.”
“What do you mean?”
“When that developer first came to town and the word got out that he was looking at my farm as a possible site, Steven came to see me. Seems that a couple of people in town weren’t happy about the farm being developed and Steven wanted to know if I knew why.”
“Who were the people?”
“He didn’t say. Actually, he was kind of vague about it. I couldn’t help it, though. I had no idea why anyone would have any objections. My farm is pretty much in the middle of nowhere. It has no historical value, nothing anyone would want to preserve. Hell, the only excitement those woods ever saw was when high school kids came here to neck and I had to chase them with my pitchfork.”
Matt slowly put his mug down.
Trying to keep his voice even, he said, “Correct me if I’m wrong—it’s been a long time—but didn’t a couple of kids show up the night Felicia was abducted?”
“Two of them—both boys. I started going after them, like I always did, but they got scared and ran. A moment later, I heard the sound of a car speeding away.”
“Did you tell the police?”
“Of course I did. I see where you’re going now, Matt, but it’s no good. Your dad and his team searched those woods from one end to the other. Not a single property in the entire county was spared. They found nothing.”
Duke’s words came back to Matt.
You’d have thought there was gold buried in those woods.
No, Duke, Matt thought. Not gold. A body.
Buzz was observing him. “What is it, Matt? What’s on your mind?”
An idea, a little wilder than most he’d had during his twenty-year career, began to take shape in his head. He looked at Buzz, who, at the present time, was his best bet. “Do you trust me, Buzz?” he asked.
A sly smile curved Buzz’s mouth. “Something tells me that I’m going to have to.”
L
ess than an hour after Matt left Buzz’s home, the news was all over town. For maximum impact, Buzz had made the announcement at Pat’s just as the pub was beginning to fill up. He would not be moving to Kansas after all. Instead, his brother was coming here. With his help, Buzz would finally be able to do what he had wanted to do for a long time—farm the other fifty acres on his property.
At the other end of the bar, Matt listened as Buzz followed his script, adlibbing every now and then, but overall, doing a fine job.
“What will you be planting?” Sam Gladstone wanted to know. A farmer since high school, Sam had retired five years ago.
“Soybeans. These days, everybody wants soybeans. I’m going to make a killing.”
Sam shook his head. “Preparing those fifty acres for planting is hard work, Buzz. And you ain’t getting any younger.”
“That’s why I’ve hired a four-man crew. They’ll do all the hard work, cut down trees, pull out roots and turn the soil over.”
“You’ve got the equipment to do all that?”
“In place and ready to go. If they work fast, I might have time to plant some rye as a cover crop.”
As Matt sipped his beer, he glanced around the pub to see who was leaving, or picking up his cell phone. No one moved. Too bad the Badger brothers weren’t here yet, or his bet would have been on them.
He glanced at his watch. Five o’clock. Customers were still coming in, and Buzz was still talking. It was time to put this little plan into action.
He drained the last of his beer, left a ten dollar bill on the table and left.
As Matt talked, Grace found herself growing excited at the thought that he may have found a way to force the killers to reveal themselves.
“That’s brilliant, Matt,” she said. “Will it work?”
Matt perched a hip on the corner of Grace’s desk. “No plan, no matter how well orchestrated, is one-hundred-percent foolproof, but if my hunch is right and Felicia
is
buried in Buzz’s woods, the killers will have no choice but to act. Fast.”
“Do you think they were there? Listening to Buzz?”
“If they weren’t, I hope they heard about it through the grapevine. If my theory is right, they’ll wait until dark, drive to the farm and find the spot where they buried Felicia so they can dig her up.”
Grace shivered. “That’s horrible.”
“No more so than putting her there in the first place.”
“How will you catch them?”
“I’ll be there, watching them from a distance. When they start digging, I’ll call the police.”
“What if something goes wrong?”
“What can go wrong? I’ll be hidden. I’ll have my cell phone. And I’ll be armed.” He smiled. “Does that make you feel better?”
“Yes. Will you call me as soon as it’s over?”
“Are you worried about me, Grace?”
She felt her cheeks heat up. “A little,” she admitted. “All this cloak-and-dagger stuff may be routine for you, but for me, it’s nerve-racking.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Can I do anything?”
“Just wait for my call. Until then, remember, not a word to anyone. This operation can only succeed if it catches the culprits completely off guard.”
“My lips are sealed.”
There was a twinkle in his eyes as he came off the desk, but that’s as far as he got. The door opened and a young couple walked in.
“I know you’ll be closing soon,” the woman said. “I promise we won’t be long. I just wanted to show my husband that landscape by Bruno Fendi?”
“I’ll be right with you,” Grace said.
Matt kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you soon,” he whispered.
She held his arm as a wave of panic gripped her. “Be careful.”
“Always.”
“Here you go,” Matt said, putting Felicia Newman’s file on Josh’s desk. “Twenty-four hours, as promised.”
Josh sat back in his chair. “Found anything helpful?”
“Nothing that I didn’t already know.”
“Told you.” He turned his head. “Montgomery!”
The deputy walked in and shook Matt’s hand. “How’s it going, Matt?”
“Could be better.”
Rob looked at the file on Josh’s desk. “Not much in there, huh?”
Matt shook his head. “Your boss warned me but I didn’t believe him.”
“You can put the file back,” Josh told Rob.
He was about to say something more when a commotion in the front room stopped him.
“You can’t go in there, Cal!” Officer Duncan shouted. “If you want to see the chief, you’ll have to—”
“Get out of my way!”
There was the sound of a crash. Then, as Josh sprang out of his chair and Rob Montgomery drew his gun, Cal Badger burst into the room, Duncan right behind him.
“I tried to stop him, Chief,” the officer blurted out, “but—”
Josh waved him off. “What the hell is your problem now, Cal?” he demanded.
Cal ignored him. He moved forward, his finger pointed at Matt. “Won’t do you any good to hide in here, bureau man.”
Matt stood up. “Who’s hiding?”
“Hey, hey!” Josh came to stand between the two men. “You two will have to settle your differences elsewhere. And if there’s any violence involved, I’ll throw both of you in the cooler. Is that understood?”
“That son of a bitch trespassed on
my
property,” Cal barked. “And started to push his weight around, threatening my father and scaring the shit out of him.”
Matt laughed. “That scared man you’re describing came at me with a baseball bat.”
“That’s because you wouldn’t leave.” He turned to Josh. “Are you going to arrest him or not?”
“No, Cal, I’m not going to—”
Cal never gave him a chance to finish. He let out a sound that was something between a growl and a howl. Then, head down, he charged like a bull, knocking Josh down and heading straight for Matt.
Matt quickly stepped to one side. Cal went crashing into Josh’s desk. Not giving him time to get back on his feet, Matt grabbed him, spun him around and slammed his fist into the big man’s face.
Blood spurted out of Cal’s nose. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, but before he could strike again, Josh, Rob and Duncan wrestled him to the ground and held him there until Rob was able to handcuff him.
“He broke my nose!” Cal screamed. “The son of a bitch broke my nose!”
Josh stood up. He was in a foul mood and breathing hard. “Throw him into a cell,” he said to Rob. “Him, too,” he added, motioning to Matt.
“Now wait a minute,” Matt protested.
“No.
You
wait a minute. You’ve done nothing but cause trouble for this town and this department since you arrived and I’m fed up. Do you hear me?
Fed up!
”
“What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him hit me?”
“You should have let me handle it.”
“Well, excuse me, but you haven’t done so well in the handling department lately.”
Josh took a deep breath and nodded at Rob. “Lock him up.”
Rob clamped a hand on Matt’s shoulders. “Sorry, Matt.”
Matt didn’t argue. Rob had a job to do. Any resistance would only delay the inevitable. He thought furiously. Now that his plan was in motion, nothing could stop it. He hated to turn the job over to another party, but he had no choice. Someone had to be there, at the farm, waiting for the killers to show up. He’d call Buzz and ask him to cover for him.
He patted his pocket for his phone.
“Come on, Matt. Let’s go.” Rob gave him a gentle push.
“Hold it. I can’t find my phone. I must have dropped it when Cal attacked me.”
“You can look for it later,” Josh grunted. “When I authorize you to make your phone call.”
“Dammit, Josh, what is wrong with you? I’m entitled to a phone call—right now.”
Josh’s only answer was to walk out of the room.
