by BJ Bourg
I was inclined to agree with her, but I couldn’t be sure. It wouldn’t be easy to plan a heist from a vacation home, but it could explain how they were able to disappear for thirty years.
We left the road several times to check out different homesteads. Out of the five places we checked, four were occupied and one was empty. While nearly everyone had a 4x4 pickup, there wasn’t one Silverado and not a single person matched the pictures of our suspects.
“There’re two permanent places left to check before we make the rounds of the vacation homes,” Leah said, her voice betraying her concern. It seemed to transfer to her right foot, because she began driving faster. “I hope this wasn’t a waste of time.”
I grunted inwardly. Considering it was my idea to be out there, I hoped it wasn’t a waste of time either. I got a call from Susan saying she had given the information to the receptionist and she was now patrolling the town with the chief in search of the suspects. She said they had called out every officer on the force, including their auxiliary officers, and they were crawling all over the county.
“Oh, and the media found Winona Munday,” she said before hanging up. “One of the local reporters remembered her being mentioned in the initial stories thirty years ago and they dug up her current address. They’re reporting live from her front yard.”
“Is she talking to them?”
“From what the chief said, she just went outside and told them to leave or she would call the police.”
When we ended the call, I told Leah what Susan had said. She punched the steering wheel.
“Why can’t those vultures just leave her alone?” she grumbled. “When she was in the ICU, several reporters camped outside the hospital waiting for her to be released. We had to sneak her through the back to get her home, but it didn’t take them long to find her house. She had to move twice before the story grew old and they got bored with it. She’s probably terrified.”
I considered that. “She was your only witness. Without her, there would’ve been no case against Bud.”
“Yep.”
“Do you think she’s a threat to the new suspects?”
“I don’t see how. She didn’t see anyone but Bud, so they were never on our radar.” She shook her head. “In all of the years that followed, I never believed he had an accomplice. I figured if he did, someone would’ve talked by now.”
I was about to open my mouth to speak when the road took a sharp turn to the left and the right shoulder suddenly disappeared into thin air. The road had narrowed considerably. We were now on a one-lane stretch with nowhere to go on the left and only a steep drop-off to the right. It was at least fifty feet to the bottom, and there wasn’t a guardrail to keep us honest. I instinctively reached for the grab handle.
“I guess you don’t have roads like this where you’re from,” Leah commented, glancing at me with a wry smile.
“Nah, the tallest mountain we have in Mechant Loup is this giant ant pile near the Bayou Tail Boat Launch.” I relaxed when she slowed down a bit. I wasn’t as worried about the drop-off as I was about her driving. She might be the best driver this side of the Mississippi, or she might be the worst. I just didn’t know and I had a daughter and wife to get back to.
CHAPTER 38
After driving for a few minutes, the road curved back to the right and away from the canyon wall. We had almost reached the canyon floor and I started to relax. Law enforcement was an uncertain and risky profession filled with all kinds of dangerous pitfalls, but at least I knew I wouldn’t be falling to my death just yet.
Leah drove for another mile or so and then slowed to a stop. I glanced curiously at her. Her face scrunched up. She shoved the gearshift in reverse and backed up for about a hundred feet.
“What is it?” I asked when she stopped and stared toward the distant wall of the canyon. It was at least a hundred yards away and the area between us was littered with sagebrush and an occasional juniper.
She pointed to a vertical shadow in the far-off rock. “You see that shaded area?”
I nodded.
“It’s a crack in the rock. It looks small from here, but it’s big enough to fit a truck.” She pointed to a clump of nearby sagebrush and then to a thin wisp of dust in the distance. “That sage has been smashed recently and that dust is from someone driving through here.”
“Is there a house back there?”
“Supposedly, but I’ve never seen it. I had missed it when we did the initial canvass thirty years ago, but my chief told me about it.” She reached for her canvass logs and thumbed through them. “Here it is. No one was home at the time of the canvass and I couldn’t access the property because of a large gate that blocked the driveway.”
“You couldn’t go around it?”
“There’s a solid wall of rock on either side of the driveway and the gate is fastened to the rock. It’s smooth and tall, so I wasn’t able to scale it.”
“Have you ever spoken to him?”
“I did a phone interview with him a week after the heist. According to my notes, he wasn’t home at the time and didn’t see or hear anything.”
“Who is he?”
“Duke Smith is his name.” She shrugged and handed me a faded printout. “I don’t know much about him. I ran his rap sheet back then, but he was clean.”
I read the information on the driver’s license printout, but nothing stood out. “Are we checking in on him?”
“It’s a rough ride to the gate.” She hesitated, seemingly gauging the distance and the time it would take. “Let’s go check out these last two houses first. Whoever drove through here won’t be back before we’re done. The terrain between here and there is too rough for getting out in a hurry.”
So saying, she drove to the last two houses and we interviewed the last of the permanent residents. Neither of the families had lived in the area thirty years ago, so they were useless. None of them had even heard of the armored car heist, and they had more questions than we had time to answer.
We were about to leave the last house when Leah had a thought and stopped abruptly. She turned to the man and woman who stood on the porch of their log cabin.
“Do you guys know the man who lives in the crack back there?” she asked. “His name is Duke Smith.”
The man and wife exchanged glances, and the man nodded. “Yeah, I’ve met him once or twice over the past six years,” he said. “He doesn’t talk much, but he always waves when he sees me.”
“Yeah,” the wife confirmed. “He seems to be nice. He waves when we pass him on the road. I’ve never said anything to him, but I see him once or twice per month on my way to town. I think he has some cows, because he’s usually hauling hay from town.”
“They do have a few head of cattle,” the husband offered. “I’ve had half a dozen conversations with his son and he’s mentioned the cattle. I think they also have a couple of horses, but they don’t have much grass up there, so they have to haul it in.”
“You’ve spoken with the son?”
“Yes, ma’am. We’ve talked about hunting before. He asked if I have any animals. He’s spoken about their horses and cows.” The husband was thoughtful. “Oh, yeah, and then he warned me about some rattlesnakes one time. My daughter and I were walking on a trail and we ran into him. He pointed out a couple of spots where he’d seen some big ones. He’s always been nice and helpful.”
“He gives me the creeps,” the wife said, shuddering. “I roll my window up when I see him on the road.”
The man chuckled. “She thinks everyone’s creepy.”
“Do you know what they drive?” Leah asked before the woman could object.
“When I see the old man, he’s always on a tractor,” the husband said. “Jimmy usually rides a four-wheeler or a dirt bike.”
“Jimmy?” Leah asked.
“Yeah, that’s the son’s name.”
Leah and I glanced at each other.
“If I showed you a picture of two men, would you be able
to tell me if they were Duke and Jimmy?” Leah asked.
The man scowled and shifted the cowboy hat on his head. “I doubt it. It’s bright out here and everyone wears hats and sunglasses. But if you want me to try, I’d be happy to do it.”
Leah gave me a nod and I pulled out my phone. The man squinted to see the small image. He had to cup his hands around it to block out the glare of the sun. After a few minutes, he shook his head.
“I really can’t be sure,” he said. “The body styles and sizes are about right, but it’s hard to say with any degree of certainty. What did they do?”
Leah waved a hand in the air. “It’s nothing to be concerned about.”
We thanked the couple and headed back in the direction from whence we’d come.
“What do you think?” I asked Leah.
“There’re probably 300,000 people in the United States named Jimmy. Do you know how lucky we’d have to be for this to be the right one?” She shot me a sideways glance. “And I don’t get lucky.”
I nodded in agreement and held on as she turned the nose of her truck toward the north and headed straight for the far away wall. The road was so rough that my teeth rattled inside my head. She jerked to the left and right often to avoid juniper trees, but she plowed right through the sagebrush.
Small animals scurried from the brush as we approached. Some of them looked like squirrels, but they were different from the ones I was accustomed to seeing. I even saw a coyote break and run from where it was sitting in the shade of a juniper.
When we were about twenty yards from the crack in the rock, I caught sight of the gate. She was right. It was tall and ominous. It appeared to be constructed of solid steel. If the size of the hinges were any indication of the care that had gone into strengthening the gate, there would be no driving through the thing. Without the assistance of a man lift, I didn’t know how we would be able to scale the fence.
“It looks locked,” I said.
She nodded as she pulled up to the gate and shut off the engine. “We don’t have a warrant to tear it down. Even if we did have a warrant, it would take a bulldozer to knock this thing down.”
We dismounted and walked to the gate. Leah checked the lock and I checked the hinges. Both sides were impenetrable. Based on the positioning of the hinges, the gate swung outwardly. On the opposite end, the fence was married to the frame as though it had been welded in place. There was no place to attach a chain or rope.
I looked up. The gate was at least twelve feet high. Even if Leah stood on my shoulders, she wouldn’t be able to see over the top. However, if I stood in the bed of her truck and she stood on my shoulders, then we might be able to see into the property.
“Do you think these are our guys?” I asked, looking to where Leah had dropped to the ground and was trying to see under the gate. She stood to her feet and cursed as she wiped the red dust off of her front.
“The gate melds into the footer like they were carved out of a single piece of steel.” She shook her head and continued studying the gate. “I don’t know why you would fortify your homestead if you weren’t hiding something illegal on your property.”
I nodded, lost in thought. I wanted a gate like that to secure our property. After the attack on the women’s shelter Susan used to run, we had shut it down because it wasn’t fortified enough to keep out the most determined criminals. But with a gate like this and a fence around the entire property, we would be able to adequately protect the women who needed our help the most.
“Clint!” Leah’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear me?”
I glanced at her and heard it before I could say anything. A vehicle was approaching the gate!
CHAPTER 39
Leah and I scrambled to her truck. She backed it away from the gate and angled it on the side with the hinges.
“As soon as the gate opens, I’m going through it,” she said breathlessly. “I’ll act confused, like I thought they were opening it for us, but I really want to box them in. If they’re involved in the heist, I don’t want them escaping again. It’s taken too long to get this close, and I’ll do whatever it takes to get them in custody.”
I nodded. Lifting the tail of my shirt on my right side, I tucked it behind my pistol grip. I wanted easy access to it just in case things went south in a hurry.
Both of our windows were down and we could hear the tires rolling across the rocky road. The brakes squealed when the vehicle eased to a stop directly on the other side of the gate. Within seconds, there was a whining sound, a screech, and then the large gate lurched in place. After a momentary pause, it began to slowly swing open.
“Come on,” Leah said under her breath. “Come to momma.”
As soon as the gate was wide enough to squeeze through, Leah punched the accelerator. She drove around the gate and into the opening, which was only wide enough for one vehicle at a time. She stopped abruptly when we came face-to-face with a dark gray Silverado pickup truck. I locked eyes on the driver, who was directly across from me. We were separated by the length of two hoods, plus a few feet. In the cool shade of the canyon wall, I could plainly see through the front windshield and knew instantly he was the man from the surveillance video that Amy had recovered. I glanced at the passenger. He was definitely the younger guy.
“It’s them,” I said to Leah. “It’s definitely them.”
“Yep.” She smiled and waved to the men, then reached for her door handle. “It’s about to get real.”
I followed suit and stepped out of her truck. I was trying to act relaxed, but I was anything but. My hand stayed close to my pistol and my eyes were focused like a laser on the driver.
“I’ve got the driver,” I muttered. Duke’s hands were on the steering wheel, right where I liked them.
“Stop right there!” the younger man said, sticking his head out of the window. “You’re on private property and we don’t consent to your presence.”
Leah stopped walking and raised her hands. “We’re here on official business.”
“And I’m officially saying we don’t give consent to any unlawful searches.” His voice was level and confident. “If you don’t have a warrant, I’m going to have to ask you to get back in your truck and remove it from blocking our egress.”
“I just need to ask some questions about that armored car heist from thirty years ago,” Leah said evenly.
I could tell she was pressing the issue. She wanted to force their hands. If they made a move, they were definitely our men. If they knew nothing about the heist, they would be confused and relieved that we weren’t there for some other reason.
“What’d she say?” Duke asked Jimmy. He had taken his eyes off of me momentarily to turn and look at his son. When Jimmy told him what Leah had said, he turned back to face me and I could see his face was tense.
Duke leaned his head out of the window. I noticed that his right hand had slipped off of the steering wheel. “You have no authority on my land. You need to move your truck now!”
“I just need to know if you guys saw anything suspicious that night thirty years ago,” Leah said in a conversational tone. “If you’d feel more comfortable, we can back out and have that conversation out in the opening—off of your land.”
The two men exchanged words that we couldn’t hear. Finally, Jimmy leaned out and agreed to her terms. “Back your truck out so we can drive clear of the gate,” he said. “Once we’re on public land and our gate is closed, we’ll talk. We don’t want our cows and horses to get loose.”
Not taking our eyes off of them, Leah and I backed toward our doors and got in.
“Did you notice the mud on the side of the truck?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said as she settled into the driver’s seat. “It looks weird. It’s black or dark gray.”
“That’s Louisiana mud,” I explained. “There’s no red stuff in the swamps.”
“No kidding?”
I nodded, and asked, “What do we know so far?
”
Leah used her side mirrors to back out of the opening, so she could keep her head forward. “They were definitely in Louisiana during the time of that young boy’s murder, the money they spent in your town was definitely from the time period of the heist, and they’re definitely armed.”
I agreed with everything she said. Trying not to move my shoulder much, I eased my pistol from the holster and rested it on my leg.
“What’s our move?” I asked, never taking my eyes from Duke, who had begun to drive his truck forward.
“It depends on what they do.” Leah had now backed her truck far enough for the tailgate of Duke’s truck to clear the gate. “I’m hoping they want to talk, but my gut is telling me otherwise.”
Leah shifted her truck in park and we sat waiting for them to come through the gate.
“What’re they doing?” Leah asked when Duke stopped the truck in the middle of the opening, blocking it from ingress or egress. “Why’d he stop?”
I was about to open my mouth to shout a warning, but it was drowned out by gunfire.
Jimmy had suddenly leaned out of the truck and stuck an AK-47 in our direction and, without warning, had begun firing upon us. I grabbed Leah by the collar of her shirt and jerked her toward me. As bullets riddled the windshield and metal framework, I threw myself over her body and tried to push her deeper into the upholstery. Glass shards exploded violently into the air and sprayed my back like a shotgun blast of rock salt.
We were sitting ducks. If I didn’t do something quickly, I knew Jimmy could advance on our position and kill us where we crouched. I shifted to my left shoulder—making sure to stay below the level of the dashboard—and lifted the pistol that was still in my hand. I knew there was a chance I might get my hand shot off, but I had to take the chance.
Pointing my pistol in the direction of the semi-automatic gunfire, I began firing as fast as I could pull the trigger. The shots exploded inside the confined space and my ears began ringing instantly.
