by Sarina Adem
And as she dialed the numbers, she bet everything on it.
Chapter Nine
Jacob Flannery served as sheriff of Bluff County for half his life. He enjoyed it. Every second of it. The good and the bad, and there was a lot more bad. When he retired, he knew Jolene would one day take the office. The county wanted it. Sometimes that’s just the way it works in a small community.
And when she finally did take that office, nothing in the world made him prouder.
That is, until Briar Fisher Flannery gave birth to his two grandchildren.
When Briar went with Jolene to New York, Jacob and his wife, Cate, watched their grandchildren every day, but that was no different from any other weekday. Briar never had to pay for a babysitter because the boys’ grandparents only wanted one thing in their retirement years. To watch their grandchildren grow up.
None of them were aware of what had transpired with Jolene the night before, that morning, and the hours past. So far, the day had been spent watching cartoons, eating crackers and drinking juice, reading Dr. Seuss, and playing hide-and-seek.
Now the boys napped. Jacob and Cate sat on the couch watching their daily soaps. Jacob was about to doze off because he only watched them to spend time with his wife, when his cell phone rang.
He read the number but didn’t recognize it. He answered it expecting a telemarketer.
Then he frowned. “Oh, hold on just a minute.”
“Jacob,” said Cate, “can you please take that call outside. I can’t hear my show.”
“That’s what I’m doing, dear.”
With his hand held over the receiver, he pushed himself off the couch and stepped out on the back porch, sliding the glass door shut behind him.
Out of his wife’s earshot, the curiosity in his voice subsided. Replaced with frustration. “What the hell are you doing calling me?”
“I need a favor,” said C.C. Lily. “For old time’s sake.”
“There are no old times between us, C.C.”
“I’m cashing in on a promise you made my father, Jacob. You promised him if I ever found myself in distress, you’d help.”
“I did make that promise to Trent. I figured I’d hear from you at some point after Mick died.”
“After your daughter killed him, you mean.”
Jacob sighed, “It’s the price you pay for the game, C.C. Anyways, I told your father I’d do what I could, so there’s no guarantee I can help you. You seem to have made it this far without me. You must be in some deep shit to be forced to contact me.”
“That’s right,” said C.C. “I need you to pick me up off Highway 101. Help me track down the man who just stole my money.”
“Is that all to the story?”
“No, but that’s all you need to know.”
“So which is it? Pick you up or find the man who stole your money? I only agreed to one favor.”
“Just pick me up. Help me find that man and I’ll send you home with something nice for your trouble.”
Jacob glanced through the glass door at his wife, staring blankly at her own soap opera. “What if I say no?”
C.C. sneered through the connection. “I’m sure Jolene wouldn’t be the only one surprised to learn you helped my father smuggle cocaine into Bluff County.”
Chapter Ten
The ambulance ride jarred him awake a few times. The fluids they pumped in him revived him, but not enough to keep him awake. It wasn’t until he was laid in a hospital bed and that hospital stench filled his nostrils that Leon Warbler opened his eyes without seeing a filmy haze obscuring the world.
Leon was barely conscious when the deputies found him. He couldn’t move, his body was in shock. But he was alive. At first they thought he was dead, but when they checked his pulse, they called the ambulance.
In his hospital room, in his bed, he found himself hooked up to machines and a respirator. Thankfully, he was alive. His relief was short-lived due to the sight of the man sitting by his side. Dressed in a black suit, black tie, black shoes. Wearing an annoyed smirk, somehow still as smug as the first time Leon saw that expression on him.
The man was Agent Gary Lasher of the F.B.I., here to check up on his wounded informant. Leon had turned three years ago, and Lasher was using him to get to C.C.’s connections in exchange for immunity when the time came to take C.C. down herself.
The first words out of Lasher’s mouth were, “You were going to run.”
Leon smiled a big smile. “Yeah, but here I am.”
“I don’t blame you,” said Lasher. “A guy like you, with a woman like C.C. The life you lead is a dangerous one. Most guys live it and burn out early.”
“I got started late in life.”
“And here you are. Where’s C.C.?”
“I don’t know.”
“What was the plan?”
“Helicopter was to pick us up. Take us somewhere safe. Not sure where, it was to be at the pilot’s discretion. C.C. only had to pay him, he’d take us somewhere where more cash and security waited for us.”
Lasher nodded, his legs crossed, his shoulders relaxed. His brow gave away the rage lurking beneath. “We’re going to find her, but there’s something else I’ve been meaning to talk to you about. I planned to bring it up at our next rendezvous, but I’m afraid this may be our last meeting.”
Leon chuckled. “Not much use for me after this, huh?” Lasher shook his head, that stupid smug grin on his face. Leon said, “Pardon me by saying I won’t miss you.”
Lasher ignored him. “I want you to tell me about the team you’ve been working with.”
“I’ve told you everything already.”
“I believe you. It’s just, see, two men are unaccounted for in all this chaos. I think there may be a connection to another problem I’m having.”
Leon smiled his own smug smile. “Well, I’m so happy to help. One of those unaccounted for individuals I’ assuming is the man who made off with C.C.’s money. The other, well, I guess there’s no need for secrets anymore. We found your other rat. Nothing I could do for him without blowing my own cover.”
Lasher’s tepid smirk faded. “What other rat?”
“Ellis. Troy Ellis? Come on, the other asshole you planted. You thought you couldn’t trust me, so you sent this guy in as backup. Worked, too. Had us all fooled until he started asking questions. Questions that sounded a lot like they were really coming from you. That’s how I knew.”
Lasher’s head tilted. “There was no other informant, Warbler.”
“Sure there was. I know how it works.”
“No, you don’t. And there was no other informant. However, it’s funny you should mention that particular name.”
“Troy Ellis?”
Lasher nodded, the clouds behind his eyes gathering. Inquisitive and accusing before saying anything. “You know your men well?”
“Of course, I do. I conduct background checks on every man I hire. Kicked myself harshly after I determined Ellis was a rat.”
“Really? Then how come you weren’t aware that Troy Ellis has been dead for nine and a half months?”
Leon thought it might be a trick. But why? There would be no reason for this conversation. This was no time for trickery. “How is that possible?”
“We built a file for every member of your crew. And our files are impeccable. You were aware that Troy Ellis is from Kent?”
Leon nodded.
“That he worked for Noah Tomlin, Bluff County’s main marijuana distributor?”
“That’s why Mick Lily hired him. Thought Ellis could provide some insider knowledge on Tomlin’s dealings. C.C. didn’t care for Mick hiring someone without her consent, but at the time, I supported the strategy. Made sense.”
“Were you also aware that Troy Ellis is married? Or rather, he was?”
“As far as I knew, he was the in the middle of a divorce when Mick hired him. Never asked him how it turned out because I didn’t give a shit.”
“Maybe you should
have.” Lasher glanced back, apparently to make sure the door was shut. “What do you know about Noah Tomlin?”
Leon squinted at the agent, then laughed. “I think you’re making your way around to a point, but I’m not sure.”
“I’m sure you’re aware that Noah Tomlin has been trying to break into cocaine. Going as far as to attempting to poach your buyers.”
“And a few of our sellers.”
“The only way to really seize C.C.’s business,” said Lasher, “would be to first destroy it.”
Leon cleared his throat and relaxed against his pillow. “I suppose so.”
Lasher leaned forward in his chair. “What if I told you that’s what just happened?”
Leon opened his mouth but no words came out. Stunned, he glanced around the room, contemplating the idea. “Impossible. Hell, the only reason we’re here is because the sheriff thwarted C.C.’s attempt on her life. This is random, not calculated.”
“Unless the sheriff is involved.”
Leon laughed again. “That’s also impossible. That would mean she would somehow have known about Troy, and it’s just – no. It’s impossible. This isn’t Noah Tomlin’s work. This is just a streak of really horrible luck.”
Lasher stroked his bare chin, thumbing over his whiskers. “There’s a car dealership in Kent, just built a little more than nine months ago. Nine and a half months to be exact.”
Leon’s mouth gaped. “Ah, sounds like you cracked the case, Lasher. What do you need me for? Obviously, that car dealership must have been conspiring against us, too.”
Lasher nodded.” You know, Warbler, something was cracked. The foundation of that brand new car dealership. In the basement, you see, the floor just never settled right. It cracked on its own. The owner kept putting the repairs off, but a few weeks ago he finally paid to have it fixed. You know what they found?”
“What?”
“A body. Troy Ellis.”
Leon allowed the information to sink in. This couldn’t be a ruse. Nothing to be gained by it, and otherwise a complete waste of time. “How can you be sure?”
“It’s my job to be sure. I spoke to the widowed Mrs. Ellis personally. She cracked almost immediately.”
“I don’t understand.”
“A man approached her about a week before her husband’s murder, which it turns out she was aware of, although she lacked specifics. The man that approached her said his name was Martin Dunn. A fake name led nowhere. Anyway, Martin told Mrs. Ellis that he worked for the same man her husband did. Noah Tomlin. Martin said he knew Mrs. Ellis was divorcing Troy, and as it happened, Noah Tomlin had no further use for her soon to be ex-husband. Martin wanted to make a deal. Only it’s not a deal, it’s just this guy telling Mrs. Ellis how it’s going to be. He says he’s going to kill Troy Ellis and assume his identity, and Mrs. Ellis is going to continue cashing Troy’s checks from Mr. Tomlin, which will also receive a significant bump in earnings. Basically, they paid her to keep her mouth shut.”
Astonished, Leon began to clap. “Wow. That’s some story, Lasher. Pretty elaborate just for Tomlin to infiltrate our ranks. If it’s true, then who the hell has been posing as Troy Ellis all this time, if not a man named Martin Dunn?”
Lasher shrugged. “Remember I said our files are impeccable? This guy works even better. He is a master con-artist. Likely a special hire by Tomlin for this specific, drawn out job. A job so secret, even my mole in Tomlin’s camp didn’t know about it. But he knew something else of interest.”
“I take it you’re going to share that knowledge with me?”
“You thought I had two moles in your crew. You were wrong. Tomlin, however, actually did have two moles. The guy posing as Troy Ellis, and another using a fake name, too. He’s been with you a little longer.”
“Who?”
“Reed Harland. But you know him as Anthony Shaw.”
“Shit.” Leon cupped his hands over his face. “That’s not what I call him.”
“What do you call him then?”
Leon lowered his hands, a faint smirk on his face. “I call him Sparkles.”
Chapter Eleven
Jolene Flannery’s charger sped down the road leading into Folsom. Troy Ellis stretched out in the back, behind the cage separating them, and her shotgun in the backseat with him, thrown hastily on the ground in an attempt to get him to the hospital.
There was no time to wait for an ambulance. Now Troy stained the backseat red while Jolene’s sirens blared and the charger tore along the asphalt at eighty.
Still surrounded by trees, they literally weren’t out of the woods yet.
Jolene had sent the deputies that found them on to her house to aid in cleaning up the bodies. Stranger, Hightower, and Buck Gully. Only Jolene’s charger on the road now.
Perhaps it was the adrenaline whispering in her ear, but there was something about Troy Ellis. She had known him less than a day, but this event that bound them together, somewhere in the turmoil she developed a small affection for him. Might have been because he aided in her survival. He complimented her, even in distress, and seemed to mean it, despite the comments being crass.
And he claimed to be on the same side as her, that side being law enforcement. She had always found a man in uniform irresistible, even when the uniform was in name only. Troy couldn’t very well wear a black suit to work for C.C. every day.
Perhaps if he decided to stay in Bluff County after all this was over, Jolene might consider going on an actual date with Troy Ellis.
Movement in the rearview mirror caught Jolene’s eye. It was Troy, sitting up.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Troy held his side. “Sorry about your car. I think I may have stained it.”
“I’m not worried about that right now.”
Troy smiled best he could, obviously hurting. “Would you mind if I borrowed your cell phone? They took mine and my superior will be wondering what happened to me. I need to check in.”
Jolene produced her cell phone and unquestionably slid it through the cage to him.
He dialed and held the phone to his ear. A few seconds later he said, “It’s me. I’m on the sheriff’s phone . . . No, everything’s fine. I made it out. Where are you?”
Jolene found the conversation curious, but she applied the majority of her attention to the road.
Troy said, “When did that happen? . . . That’s amazing . . . Yeah, they practically did the job for us . . . Why there? . . . Is it safe there? . . . Alright.”
Troy hung up, but before Jolene could say anything to him, she felt the tip of her own shotgun pushed the cage to press against the back of her head.
Troy locked eyes with her in the rearview mirror and said, “Sorry gorgeous, but I’m gonna need to bypass that hospital visit. I think we might want to make the trip to C.C.’s ranch after all.”
Chapter Twelve
Jacob Flannery cruised just under the speed limit down the desolate Highway 101, which led to C.C. Lily’s ranch. He hadn’t made it there yet, but if he passed it, that meant he had gone too far. He scanned the tree-line carefully, waiting for any indication of C.C.’s presence. He may not have known the extent of her dilemma, but it would seem that under the circumstances, her time as a crime lord was over.
Crime lords don’t cower in the woods and call ex-sheriffs for extraction.
When C.C. did emerge, her clothes were filthy, her face stained by the forest that concealed her. Jacob pulled over on the road’s edge. She leaned down into the open window and thanked him, then got safely inside.
But when the car did not budge, C.C. glared at him. She asked, “What are you doing?”
Jacob’s arm rested on the steering wheel, his body turned toward her. He looked to be in silent contemplation of her, then he said, “What’s going on, C.C.?”
“Do you want the truth? Or do you want to get us the hell out of here before the truth burns you like it did me?”
Jacob closed his eyes, frustrated
at himself. “I should never have come.”
“You’re a good man,” said C.C. “You honored a promise.”
“Tell me what’s going on, C.C.”
“They raided my house.”
“Who did?”
“The sheriff’s department.”
“Jolene? Where is she?”
“I don’t know. Jolene wasn’t with them.”
Jacob frowned. “The sheriff didn’t lead her own department on a raid of this magnitude?”
C.C. returned his skeptical gaze. “I suppose if I were in law enforcement, I could explain the rationality behind that decision. As it turns out, I’m on the opposite side. And now you’re aiding me. I suggest you get this car in gear and off this road.”
Jacob shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest like it did years ago when he was on a stakeout about to reach boiling point. “Are deputies still at your ranch?”
“They’re combing the woods for me. They haven’t made it this far yet. There weren’t many of them.”
“But there will be.”
“Yes. There will be. Which is why we need to go.”
“Go where?”
“Right now, I just need you to get me off this road. Before I make any decisions past that, I need to get in touch with someone else first.”
Jacob scoffed. “If someone else was the answer to your problems, why’d you even consider calling me?”
C.C. spoke sternly. “Because that someone else isn’t in a car. And he’s not answering his phone.”
“Your original escape plan.”
“That’s right. He must have realized it all went to shit when I didn’t make the call five minutes prior to his arrival.”
“What about your kids?”
C.C. hesitated, the words obviously hard to find as her eyes became glass. “They’re safe.”
At that moment, an object appeared around the curve ahead. Distant, but close enough to tell what it was. A deputy cruiser.
“We need to go,” said C.C.
