Chapter 10
Stan dreaded the start of the new semester. He’d enjoyed having some spare time to spend with the family, time for a little politics, and lately, time to try to clear Rob Shepard’s name. Now, with law school starting up, he’d barely have time to breathe. Not only would there be three or four hours of classes each day, but also the endless reading and preparation for them. He’d been told each year of law school would get easier, but he hadn’t found that to be the case. He figured it was because of the interruption of his legal education by service in the Marine Corps that had made his second year just as difficult as the first. He prayed that was it and this final year would be a tad easier.
It was the first Thursday of September, and he’d just picked up his schedule. He noticed his first class was advanced criminal procedure with Professor Harry Hertel, aka “Snake.” No one knew why he was called Snake, but apparently it was a name he’d earned in private practice before he became a professor. There was a lot of speculation as to what he’d done to deserve such a nickname, but no one dared ask him about it.
This wasn’t Stan’s first class with Professor Hertel. He’d been Stan’s professor for basic criminal law during his first semester at SMU. Stan liked him because he often told stories of actual cases he’d been involved in. His class was a welcome change from the Socratic teaching style most of the professors imposed upon their students. As he was walking up to the classroom, he saw a friend coming the other way.
“Paula,” Stan said. “Hi!”
Paula looked up at Stan and smiled. “Stan? Oh, do we have criminal procedure together?”
“It looks that way.”
“Good. It will be nice to sit with someone who has practical knowledge of the subject matter.”
Stan laughed. “I doubt the Uniform Code of Military Justice is much like the Texas Penal Code.”
On Stan’s first day at SMU, Paula had sought him out to see if he was the Stan Turner she’d read about in the newspapers. When he told her he was, she became his best friend on campus. Paula wanted to be a high-profile criminal defense attorney, and hanging around with someone who’d beaten a murder rap was exciting to her. Stan liked Paula because of her honesty and propensity to say exactly what was on her mind. Because of that, Stan had no reservations about speaking freely to her, something he couldn’t do with Rebekah, who was defensive and often critical. She was a worrier too and would drive Stan nuts if he shared his concerns with her.
Paula took Stan’s arm, and they entered the classroom together. It was one of the smaller, more intimate classrooms in the old wing. Professor Hertel was at his desk talking on the telephone. The room was about three-quarters full, and Paula led Stan to two empty seats.
“So, I’ve been reading about you, as usual,” Paula said. “You seem to attract publicity.”
“Yes. It seems that way. I certainly didn’t expect to be involved in another murder case.”
“Hmm. So, why are you so convinced Rob Shepard didn’t kill his family?”
“I knew him. He wouldn’t have done something like that, no matter how bad things got. He was obviously set up.”
The bell rang, and Professor Hertel got up from his desk and went to the lectern in front of the room. He brushed back his long black hair and addressed the students. “Good morning. This is Criminal Procedure 301. My name is Professor Harry Hertel. You may have heard that my nickname is Snake. If anyone here calls me by that name, I will flunk them.”
Everyone laughed.
“He’s cute,” Paula whispered.
“You think so?” Stan replied.
“Yeah. Look at those sexy eyes. I wonder if he’s married.”
Stan shook his head. “I believe he’s divorced. He mentioned his ex-wife in a disparaging manner a few times last year.”
“Hmm. I think I’m going to get an A in this class.”
Stan rolled his eyes.
Professor Hertel noticed Stan and Paula whispering to each other. He looked at them and said, “So, Mr. Turner, I see we have you back for another semester. I’m kind of surprised. From what I’ve been reading in the newspaper, you’ve already started practicing law.”
“No, sir,” Stan replied, “just a little informal investigation.”
“Well, you’ve got guts. I’ll say that for you. But you may be letting your personal feelings cloud your judgment. That’s something you’ve got to watch out for as an attorney. You’ve got to maintain your objectivity.”
“Yes, sir. It’s just that the police and the Medical Examiner are wrong, and if I don’t keep digging, a killer will go free and my friend will go down in the record book as a murderer. You’re not the first person that’s told me to let it go, and perhaps I should, but I can’t.”
“Well, there’s nothing like tenacity when you are in the pursuit of justice. So, I hope you’re right and wish you well. In fact, if there is anything I can do to help, let me know. Perhaps we’ll make it a class project. Criminal investigation is part of our curriculum, and it’s always more interesting and meaningful to work on an actual case. This could be a unique opportunity for all of us.”
“That would be awesome!” Stan said. “I can use all the help I can get.”
“Why don’t you tell us where you are in the investigation?”
Stan spent the rest of the class time explaining everything that had happened and telling his classmates what he had done so far in the investigation. Everyone seemed mesmerized by the tale and excited about helping out. After class, Stan and Paula went across the street to Dairy Queen to get an early lunch.
“Jesus Christ, Turner! No matter where you go, you’re the center of attention.”
Stan laughed. “That was totally unexpected. I’m surprised Professor Hertel even remembered my name.”
“It’s alright. I’m just jealous, I guess. I’ll just have to be satisfied with being your sidekick for now. Someday, I’ll get my day in the sun.”
“This isn’t about me. I’m just doing it because nobody else is. Believe me, I wish it weren’t necessary.”
“I know. So, what do you want me to do?”
“Huh?”
“Well, you can’t have all the fun. Give me an assignment. I want to help.”
Stan looked at Paula and then thought a minute. He liked Paula and she was a pleasant companion, but Rebekah would be upset if she found out he was hanging out with yet another female friend. He knew he should decline the offer but heard himself say, “Well, okay. You took Business Organizations, didn’t you?”
“Sure, it’s a required class.”
“Well, you know the prospectus I mentioned I got from the realtor up at Silver Springs Lake?”
“Right.”
“Well, it details a rather complex structure of corporations, partnerships, and trusts. I need someone to find out as much about each of these entities as possible. We need to know how the money flows through this maze of legal entities.”
“Okay. I can run down to Austin and check the records at the Secretary of State and State Comptroller’s office. If any of them are public companies, I can check with the SEC in Ft. Worth to see if they have anything on them.”
“That’s great, but that’s a lot of work.”
“That’s okay. If I need help I’ll get some volunteers from class to pitch in. I need an excuse to talk to Snake anyway.”
“Snake? You better not let him hear you call him that.”
Paula smiled. “Why not. You think he’d seriously flunk someone for calling that?”
Stan shrugged. “He’d flunk me, but he probably wouldn’t flunk you.”
“My thinking as well,” Paula agreed as they parted company.
After lunch, Stan went to his torts class and then to the library to study. While he was there, he ran into another friend, Lamar Jones.
“Hey, Stan. How was your summer?”
“Pretty wild,” Stan said.
“Yeah, that’s what I und
erstand. I heard you were elected County Chairman.”
“That’s right. I kinda got roped into it.”
“That’s unbelievable—just a law student and already County Chairman.”
A tall, thin man in his mid-twenties, Lamar was from a wealthy Austin family, and when he’d found out Stan was a member of the Republican Executive Committee he sought him out to discuss politics. Stan liked Lamar, and they usually sat together in the classes they had in common.
“It’s no big deal, really. If you volunteer down in Austin, they’ll probably run you for Congress before you know it.”
They continued to talk, and Stan filled him in on the President’s reception, Rob Shepard’s death, and the connection he’d found between Commissioner Barnes and Brad Thornton.
“It sounds like a can of worms,” Lamar said. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know, but if our candidate for the state legislature is a crook, I sure have an obligation to report it to the appropriate authorities.”
When Stan got home that night, he was startled by a buzzing noise as he opened the door. Rebekah rushed over when she heard it and punched in some numbers on a keypad. The buzzing immediately stopped.
“I see they installed our new security system,” Stan noted.
“Yes. It took them all morning. The code is Marcia’s birth date.”
“Oh, okay. That should be easy to remember.”
“You have thirty seconds to punch it in or the alarm will sound. If the alarm sounds, besides waking up the whole neighborhood, you’ll get a call from the monitoring service. Your password is Quantico.”
“Quantico? Thanks for digging up bad memories.” Stan said, remember his court martial at the Marine Corps base at Quantico, Virginia.
Rebekah shrugged. “Sorry. It just came to mind when they asked for a safe word.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m glad we’re secured now.”
“Yeah. Just don’t forget to disarm it when you come in, or it will go off. If the monitor service calls and you don’t respond with the safe word, they’ll send the police.”
“Oh, wonderful.”
“And they charge fifty dollars for a false alarm, if they don’t accidentally shoot you while they’re here.”
Stan laughed. “Thank you. Now I’m going to be a nervous wreck in my own home.”
Rebekah smiled and put her arms around him. He held her tightly for a moment, and then Rebekah went back into the kitchen to finish supper. Stan heard Marcia starting to cry.
“Stan, change Marcia and then round everyone up for dinner.”
“Okay,” Stan replied as he walked into Marcia’s room. He looked down at her and smiled. “Hey, little lady. How are you today?”
After he’d changed her, he brought her into the kitchen and held her on his knee with one hand while he ate his dinner.
“So, how was school?” Rebekah asked.
“Interesting. It seems Professor Hertel has been following the Shepard case. He offered to help out.”
“Really? That’s surprising. Why would he do that?”
“I don’t know. He says it will be a good learning experience for the class.”
“That makes sense.”
“But they call him Snake, so he may have ulterior motives.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. He’s only a part-time professor, so maybe he thinks he’ll have an inside track on defending the real killer if we find him.”
“Wow. He is a snake.”
“Maybe, but most snakes are harmless.”
“Daddy, can we get a snake as a pet?” Mark asked.
“No! Absolutely not,” Rebekah said. “You don’t take care of your parakeets as it is. The last thing I need is a snake slithering around the house.”
“Maybe we’ll get a fish tank,” Stan said. “I’ve always wanted one of those big ones with a hundred brightly colored fish swimming around.”
“Can we, Daddy?” Mark asked. “That would be cool.”
“Maybe. We’ll go to the pet store and check them out this weekend.”
Rebekah shook her head. “Thanks a lot.”
Stan laughed. “We’ll take care of them. You won’t have to do anything.”
Rebekah rolled her eyes.
“I think I’m going to stop by and see Don Karnes tomorrow at the bank. I don’t have class until eleven.”
“Hmm. You think he’ll tell you anything?”
“Probably not, but I need to discuss some Republican business with him anyway.”
The next morning, Stan stopped by the First National Bank and asked Don’s secretary if he had a moment to talk. She said he had a director’s meeting at ten, but she’d check and see if he had five or ten minutes to spare. A few minutes later, she showed Stan into his office. Don pulled his rotund body up from his chair and stepped around his desk to shake Stan’s hand. He wore a $1,000 suit, a red silk power tie, and shoes so shiny you could use them as a mirror in a pinch.
“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from Stan the man?” Don asked.
Stan smiled. “Oh, a couple things came up that I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Well, my secretary tells me we have ten minutes, so fire away.”
“Well, I understand Brad Thornton does his banking here.”
“That’s right,” Don replied warily.
“Does he have all his accounts with you, including Silver Springs Ventures?”
“As far as I know. Why?”
“I’m trying to clear Rob Shepard’s name. I know he didn’t kill his family. What I’m looking for is a large sum of money being paid from one of Brad’s accounts to someone about the time of the murders—probably the next day.”
“The FBI took all Shepard’s records. Why don’t you talk to them?”
“They don’t care about Rob Shepard. All they care about is Brad Thornton and his alleged money laundering. I know you just gave the feds copies. You still have the original records.”
“True, but it is illegal for me to give you access to those records.”
“I know, but if you happen to be looking through his records for any reason and come across a large payment to Todd Watson or anybody else about the time of Rob’s death, I’d appreciate a heads up. It could be a check, wire transfer, or maybe a large cash withdrawal.”
“Who is Todd Watson?”
“Brad’s driver-body guard. As I understand it, if he needs some dirty work done, Todd’s the go-to man.”
“Okay. What’s the second thing on your mind?” Don asked.
“Well, in my investigation, I have discovered our new candidate for state representative was an investor in the Silver Springs Lake venture.”
“Oh, my God!” Don moaned.
“Yes. It seems Mr. Thornton was trying to ingratiate himself to everyone with any political clout in the county. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to buy off the FBI.”
“Damn. What are we going to do?”
“Well, we could confront him and ask him to resign. If he does, then we could just let the feds worry about him. Or, we could go to the feds and blow the whistle, have a big scandal, and lose the election.”
Don shook his head. “No, I like the first option. It’s not perfect, but if we can get Barnes to resign, that will save the party a lot of grief. Who could we get to replace Barnes?”
“That’s the State Executive Committee’s problem.”
“Why didn’t you discover this before you talked Barnes into becoming a Republican?”
Stan sighed. “Yeah. I wish I had, believe me.”
“So, how do we go about doing this?”
“You check with the other members of the committee and, if they agree, I’ll talk to Barnes. Either way, I’ve got to take this evidence I have to the FBI.”
“Right. Good luck with that.”
“Call me just as soon as you’ve talked with the rest of the Committee,” Stan said as he stood up to leave.
&nbs
p; “I will. Thanks for bringing me such wonderful news.”
Stan smiled and left. He wondered what Barnes would do when he confronted him. He could claim he thought it was a legitimate investment, in which case he wouldn’t need to withdraw from the race. If he did withdraw, that would be a good indication of his guilt, albeit not necessarily conclusive. Forty-five minutes later when Stan got to class, Paula was standing in front of the classroom. He walked up to her.
“There you are,” she said anxiously. “Wait ‘til you see what I found out.”
“You’ve already gone to Austin?” Stan replied, incredulous.
“I sure did. Professor Hertel took me yesterday afternoon. We got there just before the Secretary of State’s office closed. They let us stay an hour past closing time to do our research.”
Stan laughed. “Boy, you don’t waste any time.”
“It wasn’t me. After you left yesterday, Professor Hertel asked me what your next move was, so I told him my assignment to go to Austin. He thought a moment and then asked if I wanted some help. I said I was hoping to get a couple of students to volunteer, but he said he wanted to go with me. What could I say?”
“So he drove?” Stan asked suspiciously.
“Uh huh.”
“And when did you get home?”
“Early this morning.”
Stan shook his head. “Hmm. What did you find out?”
Paula grinned triumphantly. “I found out Professor Hertel is very athletic.”
“No. . . . I mean, what did you find out about Silver Springs Ventures?”
“Oh. Well, Silver Springs Ventures, Ltd. is owned 9 percent by Thornton Enterprises, Inc. and 51 percent by Calidad Intereses, Ltd.—both Texas limited partnerships—and the rest by eleven individual investors, including Rob Shepard and Commissioner Barnes.”
“Right. I knew about Barnes.”
“Now, the interesting thing is that Calidad Interests, Ltd. is 98 percent owned by a Mexican corporation called Baja Explotaciones, Inc. and 2 percent by Carlos Morales, who is also the General Partner. He’s a notario from Mexico City.”
“What’s a notario?” Stan asked.
“It’s a very powerful person, kind of a cross between a notary and an attorney. If you want something done in Mexico, you have to have a notario do it for you. If you can arrange to become a notario, you’ll soon be a millionaire, or so they say.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh.”
“So, who owns Baja Explotaciones?” Stan asked.
“I don’t know. You’d have to go to Mexico to find that out, if it’s even possible.”
“Well, we can assume the Burilo cartel owns it in some fashion.”
“Probably,” Paula agreed.
“And Carlos Morales is calling the shots for Calidad as GP and has a controlling interest in Silver Springs, so effectively, he controls it as well.”
“Does any of this get us closer to our killer?”
“It’s hard to say, but if we get enough information, I think everything will come into focus.”
After lunch, Stan called Don Karnes to see if he’d had a chance to talk to the other members of the county Republican Party Executive Committee. He said he had and that they all agreed with his approach to the problem, so Stan went to see Commissioner Barnes at the courthouse. Barnes was in a meeting, so Stan waited in his reception area. Thirty minutes later, he walked in the door.
“Stan? What are you doing here?”
Stan stood up. “Hi. We need to talk.”
Barnes’ eyes narrowed . “Okay. Come into my office.”
Stan followed Barnes into his office and took a seat across from his desk.
“Hey, your gal, Kristina is doing a great job. She’s got me so busy I don’t have time to breathe.”
Stan smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like Kristina.”
“So, what’s up?”
“You know I’ve been investigating the Shepard family murders.”
“Right,” Barnes chuckled. “Don’t worry. I have an alibi.”
Stan forced a laugh. “Anyway, in the course of my investigation, I came across a list of investors of Silver Springs Ventures, and I found Rob’s name. He was in for $25,000. I was surprised to see you were in for $100,000.”
Barnes’ smiled disappeared, and his body stiffened. For a moment, he said nothing, and then he turned and shrugged. “So. I had no idea Thornton was in bed with a bunch of thugs. He came to me as a friend offering to let me in on a very lucrative investment. When he showed me the numbers, I couldn’t resist.”
“Well, I’m sure in your mind it was a legitimate deal, but I think you can see it’s going to be a problem in your campaign when word of this gets out.”
“Are you going to turn me in?”
“If I’ve discovered your involvement, the FBI must already know, so it’s just a matter of time before they drag you in for questioning. As soon as that happens, the press will be all over it, and your chance of becoming a state representative goes down the toilet.”
Barnes sighed. “Damn Thornton. I should have known it was too good to be true.”
“If you want to ride it out, I can’t stop you, but it’s not likely you’ll be able to clear yourself before election day.”
“You’re right. So, you want me to withdraw?”
Stan nodded. “I’ve discussed it with the Executive Committee, and that is our recommendation. That way you can come up with whatever explanation you feel comfortable with and step out of the limelight. You should probably get a criminal attorney, though, as soon as possible.”
“Do you know anybody?”
“Actually, I do. My criminal law professor has been following the case. He might consider representing you.”
Stan gave Barnes Professor Hertel’s phone number and then went home. When he opened the front door, the alarm started buzzing.
“What was that code number?” he muttered to himself.
As he was trying to remember it, Rebekah flew around the corner and punched in the code, and the buzzing stopped.
“What’s the code number?”
“Your daughter’s birthday.”
“Oh, right.”
Rebekah rolled her eyes. “Where have you been? Everyone’s been calling here for you.”
“Who’s everyone?”
“Professor Hertel, Don Karnes, and some guy named Todd.”
Stan felt his stomach twist. “Todd? Todd who?”
“Uh, Todd Watson. Why?”
“Todd Watson?” Stan repeated.
“Right. That’s it.”
Stan hadn’t told Rebekah about Watson or his encounter with Watson’s girlfriend. He wondered how he’d found out. He called Watson’s number, but there was no answer. Stan went to the front door to be sure it was locked. Then he put on the alarm. After a while, he tried Watson again. This time a recorder picked up, so he left a message. While he was waiting, he decided to call Special Agent Ruth Rutledge.
“Hey. You said to call if I felt threatened.”
“Right.”
“Todd Watson may be on the war path. I kind of hit on his girlfriend to get some info out her and he’s called looking for me.” He explained the situation to her. “I’ve got some evidence I picked up at Silver Springs too that might be helpful to you.”
“Okay. I’ll swing by and pick it up? If Watson shows up stay inside and don’t open the door.”
“Thanks. See you soon.”
Stan hung up the phone and looked out the front window again. Everything seemed quiet.
Rebekah walked in and gave Stan a hard look. “What’s going on? Who’s coming over?”
“Oh, I’m going to give that prospectus we got up at Silver Springs Lake to the FBI.”
“Why now?”
Stan told Rebekah the situation but didn’t mention he was expecting trouble from Todd Watson. Rebekah sensed Stan wasn’t telling her everything. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Stan froze.
/> “Take the kids upstairs and lock yourselves in the bathroom.”
“What?”
“Just do as I say!”
Rebekah just stared at Stan and then turned and headed upstairs. Stan went to the front door and looked out the peephole. A tall man dressed in jeans and a t-shirt was standing there flexing his fingers. Stan guessed it was Todd Watson. He wondered if he should open the door or not. Agent Rutledge had said not to, but he figured since he’d come alone and had bothered to knock, perhaps all he wanted to do was talk. Cautiously, Stan opened the front door. As the door opened, the alarm buzzed. Stan quickly closed the door and punched in the code. Then he opened it again and played innocent.
“These alarms are a pain in the ass,” Stan said, forcing a smile.
“Are you Stan Turner?”
“Yeah.”
“I understand you’ve been asking a lot of questions about me?”
“Who told you that?”
“I know you talked to my girlfriend.”
“Did she tell you that?”
“If there’s something you want to know, you ought to be man enough to face me one on one.”
“That’s not it. I just didn’t think you’d talk to me.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have talked to you because what I do is none of your damn business!”
“Where were you the night the Shepards were murdered?”
“Who do you think you are, a cop? I don’t have to tell you shit!”
“That’s true, but if you have an alibi, just tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”
Watson grabbed Stan’s shirt and yanked him forward. “Listen, you little twerp, I’m not telling you anything, and you better stay out of my business.”
Watson pushed Stan, and he fell to the ground. Just then, a blue Buick pulled up, and Agent Rutledge got out of her car. She looked over at Stan getting up off the ground and dusting himself off.
“What’s going on here?” she asked sternly.
Stan smiled at Todd. “Oh, Todd, I’d like you to meet Special Agent Ruth Rutledge of the FBI.”
Watson looked at Rutledge then glared at Stan. “Just mind your own business,” Watson spat and walked off.
Agent Rutledge frowned. “I thought I told you not to open the door?”
Stan shrugged. “I know, but he knew I was inside so he would have just got more agitated had I not opened the door.”
Agent Rutledge shook her head. “He’s not someone you should be messing with, Stan,” she advised. “You need to try and avoid confrontation, particularly when there isn’t any backup around.”
“Yeah. I know, but he was the most likely person to have murdered the Shepard family. Unfortunately, now I know he didn’t do it.”
“How do you know that?”
“He wouldn’t have come over here in broad daylight and knocked on my door if he was the killer. He’d have come at night and slit our throats.”
“And what if he had turned out to be the killer?”
“Well, we’ve got a good security system. We’d have heard him coming and called the police.”
“Listen, these security systems are nice, but I wouldn’t bet my life on them. I’ve seen seasoned criminals disarm a security system inside a minute.”
A wave of apprehension ran over Stan. He suddenly realized how foolish he’d been. “I guess I’ll have to re-think my security.”
Agent Rutledge nodded. “I think that would be wise. Now, you said you had some evidence?”
“Yes, come on inside. Give me a minute to give the all-clear to the family.”
Stan went upstairs and knocked on the bathroom door. “He’s gone,” Stan announced. “You can come out now.”
The door opened, and Peter looked up at his father, rather bewildered. Reggie pushed on past him and ran down the stairs. Mark nudged Peter out of the bathroom and then led him back to their bedroom. Rebekah shifted Marcia from one hip to the other and walked out of the bathroom.
“What happened?” Rebekah asked.
“He’s gone. Agent Rutledge showed up right on cue.”
Rebekah shook her head angrily. “This is ridiculous, Stan.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve got to talk to Agent Rutledge right now. I’ll make this up to you. I promise.”
Rebekah’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, you owe me big time for this.”
Stan smiled tentatively and then went downstairs, where he found Reggie talking to Agent Rutledge.
“Reggie!” Stan exclaimed. “Are you bothering Agent Rutledge?”
“No, no,” Agent Rutledge said. “He was just telling me he wants to be an FBI agent.”
“Oh, really? You must have impressed him.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, looking at her watch, “but I don’t have much time, so—“
“Sorry,” Stan said and then began explaining how Ruth Snowden must have slipped the prospectus in with sales materials she’d given them. Then he went into his study and returned with the document. She took it and started leafing through it. Her eyes widened when she saw the list of investors with the amount each had contributed.
“So, I take it by your reaction that you haven’t seen this yet?”
“No. This is very interesting. I wonder how Ruth got it. She didn’t mention it when we interviewed her. Why did she give it to you and not us?”
“I don’t know. She seemed a little upset with the way the FBI showed up unannounced and started ordering her around.”
“Yes, some people are a bit sensitive to our procedures, but we have to go by the book.”
“I understand.”
“This isn’t a typical prospectus that you’d give to the SEC.”
“No. It’s clearly meant for investor eyes only. There’s a lot of confidential information in there. That’s why I thought you’d want to see it.”
“Yes, thank you. So, is that it?”
“Well, did you look at the list of investors over carefully?”
Agent Rutledge frowned. “Not yet.”
“When you do, you’ll find the name of Paul Barnes, our state representative candidate.”
Agent Rutledge opened the prospectus, found the list, and looked at it more closely. “Right. I see him on the list,” she said, giving Stan a hard look. “It must have been difficult for you to turn this over to us.”
“Yes, very difficult, but what else could I do?”
“Nothing. You did the right thing.”
“I confronted Barnes, and he’s agreed to withdraw from the race due to the inevitable investigation and adverse publicity.”
“Boy, you tackle every problem head on.”
“This is our first real opportunity to elect a state representative. I don’t want to blow that opportunity by having a candidate embroiled in a scandal.”
“Do you think you can put up another viable candidate at this late date?”
“I don’t know, but anything’s possible.”
“Well, I really appreciate this, Stan. Keep up the good work.”
“Of course,” Stan said, smiling broadly. “And thank you for showing up at the right moment.”
“Right, but next time wait for your backup.”
Stan laughed. “I’ll do that.”
Stan breathed a sigh of relief as Agent Rutledge drove away. He turned and went back into the house. Now all he had to do was calm Rebekah down and explain to his kids why they’d been locked in the bathroom for twenty minutes.
Disillusioned, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 2 Page 10
