Cindy said, “I’m not walking all the way back to our hotel room.”
Carol smiled and tilted her head, “We’re all about the same size.” She was leaning back winking at Spicey.
Spicey threw her hands in the air, “Okay! You can get in my closet but I ain’t wantin’ to see any of my church clothes headin’ for the swamp.” Spicey pointed the way to her bedroom and shook her head. Cindy and Carol disappeared behind the colorful blanket that adorned Spicey’s bedroom doorway.
Seconds later Carol squealed and peeked her head out, “Can we wear your jewelry too?”
Spicey answered yes as she stirred the gumbo.
Sasha asked, “I’m hopin’ I get to stay here and mind the shop?”
Spicey answered, “That’ll work. Can we take your gun?”
William C. Thornton buzzed the Director of the FBI. Manio had called Fenley with an alternate plan for moving the drugs and guns that had been seized Wednesday night at the port. Fenley had already made a few calls to make sure Manio’s people could be substituted in key security jobs. Now all that had to happen was for Thornton to get the Director’s approval for the new plan.
The Director had finished a phone call with Roger and had reluctantly agreed to allow Thornton one more day of freedom. Roger had pointed out that they had plenty of evidence on Thornton. Maybe leaving Thornton free would produce even more evidence on the other players. The Director was itching to let Thornton know he had been found out.
Instead he answered the buzzer, “Sure, come in.”
Thornton entered the Director’s office and sat. “I have a new plan for moving the drugs and guns from Wednesday night’s fiasco to Kansas. I think instead of sending out a train, which by the way would risk every civilian between New Orleans and Kansas, we’ll put it on a boat and send it to Texas.”
The Director nodded. He loved Thornton’s description of the martial law raid as a fiasco. He couldn’t wait to see Thornton’s reaction to his next statement. The Director slid the plan over and put it in his top drawer. This would be even more proof that Thornton had worked this out with Fenley and Manio.
The Director cleared his throat and said, “I owe you an apology.”
Thornton asked, “For what?”
The Director leaned his chair back, “I lied to you about French Quarter Bank. We had a sting planned and I wanted to keep our people out of it.”
Thornton’s posture went rigid. “I don’t understand.”
The Director smiled, “Of course you don’t. I haven’t explained it yet. We haven’t lost any communications from the martial law communication sting. The CIA and OSI are going over each one as we speak. They put out the rumor that there had been a problem with the accounts at French Quarter Bank, so that certain entities would then identify themselves by moving money through there.”
Thornton went pale. The Director continued, “My understanding is that there is eighty five trillion dollars that was seized about an hour ago. That number will multiply to include all accounts that can be linked internationally.”
Thornton stood and began pacing. “Are you saying that the United States Federal government is going to freeze the accounts at French Quarter Bank? How could this happen and I not have been told?”
The Director shook his head, “I didn’t say the accounts were going to freeze. I said we were seizing them under the RICO Act. These guys will never get their money back. I was protecting you by not telling you. What’s it to you anyway? This is a CIA project. It doesn’t have anything to do with any cases we are working on.” The Director pointed to his center drawer where he had just placed the plan Thornton had given him. “Oh, I don’t really need another plan on the guns, but I’ll look it over. I guess Dance had those moved Thursday. The weapons and drugs are already in Kansas.”
Thornton sat heavily in the chair opposite the Director’s desk. His mind wasn’t even processing what the Director was saying. His eyes locked on the Director, “Are you telling me that the Federal Reserve never changed account numbers or anything at that bank? That this has been a sting?”
The Director laughed, “Oh they changed account numbers and added some computer codes, but just so it would be faster to sort out the bad guys. This way these accounts clearly build the RICO case on their own. No sorting the good guys from the bad. They have their own special numbers. It was beautiful really. They voluntarily put on ID tags saying they were the bad guys.” The Director actually laughed at Thornton’s expression. “We should hear by tomorrow who they are.”
Thornton’s voice rose, “I can’t believe I didn’t know this. This isn’t right.” Thornton leaned forward. A look of fresh awareness cloaked his face, “How much of this has been Roger Dance?”
The Director tried to look puzzled. The whole time he was enjoying every single moment. “Dance? You’re the one that thinks he’s an incompetent buffoon. What makes you think he’s involved?”
Thornton rubbed his face with his hands and answered, “I don’t know. I’m going home. Seems to me my job has been redefined by this office without as much as an email to me.”
Thornton scowled at the Director and slammed the door on his way out.
The Director hit play on his computer, leaned back, and smiled while he listened to Bolero. He still wanted to slug the son of a bitch.
Thornton pulled onto the highway. He wasn’t even sure where he was driving to. What was he going to do? He couldn’t warn Fenley and Donavan about the sting. It was probably too late now anyway. Maybe he could just act surprised. The Director said that the communication sting did not lose any calls. That meant eventually his role would be discovered anyway. Thornton slammed his fists against the steering wheel. Damn it all!
Thornton’s mind raced. There was nowhere to go. Thornton’s cell phone rang. He lifted it and saw that Fenley was calling him. He pitched the phone against the passenger window. A mile ahead the concrete supports of the overpass came into focus. He had always wondered what made people do this sort of thing. He unsnapped his seat belt, and clenched the steering wheel with both hands. Traffic was heavy all around him, he didn’t care. He stood on the accelerator and recklessly thrust his way through the traffic. At the very last minute he twisted the wheel and veered straight into the bridge.
Roger and Paul walked back to the hotel. Paul declared he was going to the sidewalk bar to chat with Jill, the bartender. Roger took the elevator to his room. The CIA had placed security personnel at the hotel for both Roger and Paul. Roger nodded at the agent in the hall as he unlocked the door to his room. The Director had insisted on the security after the shooting at the courthouse. He had also insisted that the security come from the CIA, since Manio was the threat. Roger agreed the CIA had a better handle on Manio and his affiliates than the FBI.
Roger draped his jacket on a chair and headed for the bathroom. He turned the water on for a shower and winced as he removed the bandages that peppered his face and neck. The bleeding had stopped, but long red grooves promised to be reminders for quite a while. Roger realized how close he had come to death today.
When his shower was finished he called Lisa Core. After some small talk about how she and Jamie were doing, Roger offered to answer questions about Mathew. They spoke for about twenty minutes. By the nature of Lisa’s questions, Roger knew Lisa and Mathew were talking about Mathew’s history with the government. Lisa seemed to be a person of character and made decisions carefully. If Mathew was going to get his family back, he would have to be honest with her.
Roger made a cup of tea and watched the news. He had almost drifted off to sleep when the Director called.
“The funds at French Quarter Bank are now seized. The Coast Guard has recovered cocaine at two port storage buildings belonging to Lanitol Oil. They are moving in on the remaining six.”
Roger answered, “What kind of retaliation are we expecting from LUCY initially?”
The Director answered, “I wish I knew. LUCY had a mole in the National Security Cou
ncil. Ellen is with me now and has shown me a ‘video’ of the Secretary of Defense ordering the car bombing of Jason Sims. She also has a captured video call back to the Secretary from the bomber, showing him the explosion as it happened minutes ago.”
Roger sat up straight, “The Secretary of Defense was a LUCY mole? They killed Jason Sims? That means LUCY can take down everything. Soon.” Roger’s chest tightened. He could feel his heart pounding. My God he hoped he hadn’t set everyone on a path to destruction.
The Director spoke in a calm voice, “Ellen and her angels saved Jason and alerted me what happened. Jason and his driver were moved to safety and the CIA picked them up. OSI is watching the Secretary of Defense and his bomber friend. There isn’t much we can do without real evidence.”
Roger knew the Director meant they couldn’t use what Ellen had given him. Roger was still alarmed, “Are the computer programs at risk? Can Jason get to them in time?”
The Director explained that Jason had built in safeguards for precisely this risk. The programs were secure to the best of anyone’s knowledge. He added, “LUCY players believe Jason flipped to our side. Their attempt to kill Jason only proves they believe their programs can still cause harm. Once they discover their money is gone and their programs blocked, LUCY will have to retreat and start over.”
The Director continued, “I told Thornton about the money sting. As far as we can tell he didn’t make any calls. He drove his car into a bridge support five miles from here. He caused a ten car pile-up, the bastard. He’s dead.”
Roger rubbed his forehead and remained silent.
The Director sighed, “I wanted to prosecute that son of a bitch. Hell, I wanted to slug him first! Now I have to go to his funeral. Our publicity people are reporting it an accident. What’s your next move?”
Roger answered, “I plan to arrest Manio at eight o’clock tonight for human trafficking and attempted murder of an officer. He’s staying at the Casino here in New Orleans. I want to tie his activity to this RICO case on LUCY.”
“Timing sounds tight on this. He may or may not know about the money sting and the drug raids by the time you get to him.”
Roger said, “I thought about that. He still thinks there are ninety tons of weapons he can steal at the dock. Not to mention a lot of coke. I’m betting on his greed and ego. I don’t see him running home empty handed.”
The Director asked Roger to hold the line. When he came back on the phone he said, “OSI and CIA are monitoring a lot of chatter. Donavan Luntz represents the oil side of LUCY and he seems to be arranging a conference call of some very influential people. Ellen has left to monitor that and get us transcripts. I think we are about to find the other players. Good luck with Manio. I’ll keep you posted.”
Roger said, “Thank you, sir.”
Roger’s mind started replaying everything that had happened in the last year and a half. From his phone call to go to South Bend and help catch a serial killer, to now. Within hours he would be arresting Manio, and LUCY would be stripped of their power. The most amazing part of it all was Ellen and the angels.
Roger looked at his watch, he still had some time. He dialed Kim, “You working, home, or what?”
Kim answered, “Home. Just walked in the door. What’s up?” Kim kicked off her shoes and plopped in her chair. Roger was in a good mood but sounded tired.
“I want to do something. Go somewhere. This case is almost done. Can you get some vacation time?”
Kim was silent. “Did you get shot or something? You never have time to do anything.”
Roger laughed, “Actually, I did get shot. No big deal, just flesh wounds.”
He was still laughing when Kim said, “I have a lot of vacation time. Where can we go where people won’t try to kill you?”
Roger answered, “I have some business in Hawaii I need to wrap up.”
Kim shouted, “You want to go to Hawaii?”
Roger chuckled, “Only if you go with me. Well?”
Jeanne had been aimlessly driving around. The case was almost over. She would have to decide to stay in New Orleans or return to New York. This team would be splitting up soon. She may never see any of them again. She started thinking of Thor. Jeanne looked at her watch. It had only been twenty minutes ago she left the Star Ship. It seemed a lifetime ago.
Jeanne told herself to focus on the things she should be doing. She pulled over and called the medical examiner’s office. He reported to her that the DNA for Michael Summers had been a match and that he was preparing the shipment of Michael’s remains for transport. Jeanne called Spicey and told her that Michael was on his way home.
Jeanne saw a grocery store to her right and decided to pick up a few items for Jeremiah. She hadn’t talked to him since before Pablo had been shot. Jeanne drove down the length of Jeremiah’s driveway and parked nearly on the swamp’s edge. She saw Jeremiah sitting on his favorite stump skinning minks.
Jeremiah tilted his head so his one good eye could see her. “You all done shootin’ folks?”
Jeanne sat on a stump next to him, retrieved her knife from her boot, and started helping him. The mink and alligator skins were Jeremiah’s only source of income. He was in his seventies and slowing down. He couldn’t do this forever. Jeanne looked at him, “You ever think of selling some of your land and retiring?”
Jeremiah raised an eyebrow. “Retire from what? I never had no job. Just livin’ off the land. Lived here all my life.”
Jeanne nodded and kept skinning. “You ever hear of a life estate?”
Jeremiah nodded much to Jeanne’s surprise. “Old lady Nelson sold her place to her boy and kept a life estate. Meant she got money for sellin’ and didn’t have to move, I think.”
Jeanne nodded, “That’s right. What if Alan bought your place so you would have some extra money to do what you want? You could still live here and the property would stay in the family. You wouldn’t have to work as hard.”
Jeremiah laughed, “You get hit in the head in that shoot out or somethin’? Ain’t no bank gonna lend on this place. Ain’t even got ‘lectricity the normal way.”
Jeanne asked, “What if I lent the money to Alan?” Jeanne was really hoping Jeremiah would consider the offer. She cared about him and she worried about him trying to live off the land in his senior years.
Jeremiah stopped skinning the minks, “That there sits on me like a charity thing. Don’t like the sounds of it.”
Jeanne said, “I have money at the bank they are only paying me one percent on. If I lent it to Alan at two percent, I would double my interest. You would actually be helping me.” That was her last good argument. She stared at Jeremiah.
Jeremiah shook his head and looked sideways at her, “There not enough lipstick in the world for that pig. Only got one eye, but I be seein’ through you.”
Jeanne asked, “Can I mention it to Alan and see what he thinks?”
Jeremiah smiled, “You always get what you want?”
“Actually no.”
Jeremiah tossed a dead mink at her. “Here. You want to help me, get to work.” Jeanne smiled and started skinning the mink.
Willie, Spicey, Cindy and Carol arrived at Pete’s swamp boat rentals just as Pete was leaving for the day. Willie yelled over to Pete, “We be takin’ a swamp boat if it be okay.”
Pete laughed, “Where you keep findin’ all these beautiful women? Dang! Then you be bringin’ ‘em out to the swamp at all hours? Guess ya gotta go with what works for ya. Leave the money in the box by the door.” Pete waved, pulled his heavy frame into his pickup truck and took off down the drive leaving a dust cloud behind him.
Spicey and Willie walked over to the dock and climbed in a flat bottom boat. Cindy and Carol were close behind. Cindy flared her nostrils. “Sure smells bad out here.”
Spicey frowned, “It’s a swamp.”
Carol smacked Cindy’s arm, “It’s a swamp!”
Cindy noticed a bucket filled with hammers sitting on the dock. “How goo
d is this boat put together? I don’t like the looks of a bucket full of hammers sitting right here.”
Willie laughed, “Those for the tourists. You take a swamp tour they tell ya to grab a hammer case you gotta thump a gator head. These flat bottom boats got no motor. No noise to scare gators off. They can get a little nosey, sometimes get too close.”
Cindy reached in the bucket and grabbed three hammers. Carol got back out of the boat, grabbed the whole bucket, and sat back down on her crate. She looked at Willie who was frowning at her. “Case we have to throw some.”
Willie told everyone to sit down on a crate while he pushed off from the dock. Willie looked at Carol and Cindy. “Spicey said she wanted you girls to have a real swamp tour. To my thinkin’ that means you need to learn about what lives out here. You girls heard of the Rugaru?”
Cindy and Carol both shook their heads. Spicey rubbed her amulet and started softly chanting. She figured it would add to the story. The swamp boat slowly glided away from the docks and turned into the dark waters of the narrow bayou. Spanish moss hanging from cypress branches tickled their heads as they silently passed. Strange noises rose from the shore as grasses rustled and snapped. Under the umbrella of the cypress branches it quickly became dark.
Willie whispered, “Them noises you hear be your security alarm. What you don’t want, if you be in the middle of the swamp, is silent crickets. Means danger real close.”
Spicey thought Willie might be doing too good a job. She was getting creeped out already and it would be a whole hour or more ‘fore they got to Mambo’s.
Roger had ordered room service for his dinner. He had a lot of calls to make before leaving to arrest Manio. He called Catahoula and told him what evidence he had on Manio for a RICO charge. Catahoula agreed there was enough for an arrest warrant and said he would have one prepared and sent to the field office shortly. He wished Roger luck and complained his leg hurt like hell.
Silent Crickets: A Shallow End Gals, Trilogy Book Three Page 24
