Killing the Secret

by Donna Welch Jones

  “Let me make a call then I’ll fill you in. You probably won’t believe it. I’m not sure I do.”

  “Interesting,” Tye replied.

  “Lexie opened her desk drawer and searched for the Interpol number. Finally, she dug it out and pushed the numbers on her phone.

  “This is Sheriff Lexie Wolfe from Diffee, Oklahoma. I need prints from a Michael Haverty who was in Columbia with his father, Sean, ending around 1988.”

  “What’s this about?” an official sounding voice on the other end of the phone asked.

  “It’s for a murder investigation. His father, Sean, reported that his son’s death was faked to get him out of South America. His sister, Mariah, said that he’s dead and buried in Bogotá. If he’s alive, he may be the murderer I’m looking for. I’m hoping you have his fingerprints since his father was in security at the American Embassy. You’ve already sent me his sister’s prints—Mariah Haverty.”

  “I’ll check this out and get the information to OSBI.”

  “Bryce is handling the case for OSBI. Please hurry. Likely there’s others on his list.”

  “Will do,” the voice said and hung up.

  “What’s going on?” Tye’s interest was peaked.

  Lexie recounted her conversations from the morning.

  “Unbelievable,” was Tye’s only response.

  Lexie worried aloud, “My concern now is that he won’t show up for the reunion because we’re getting too close.”

  “Maybe he’ll give up on killing them since he may be caught.” Delia’s optimism didn’t ring true.

  Lexie frowned. “I still don’t understand why he’s killing a bunch of women he never knew.”

  “Sounds like some vengeance related to his sister,” Tye speculated.

  Lexie picked up the ringing phone. “Sheriff Wolfe here.”

  “This is Jenkins from Interpol. The information you requested is being sent to Bryce at the OSBI office in Tulsa. You may access it through them.”

  “Thanks so much,” Lexie said.

  “Tye, how do you feel about a trip to Bogotá to see if Michael is still there—six feet under? We need to know if Sean is lying to us.”

  “Not exactly my idea of a vacation but I’m ready for an adventure. Do you want me to ask Red to pilot?”

  “Yes. He’ll be here any minute for our meeting. I want to make sure we all know where we’re supposed to be during this reunion.”

  Clay, Red, and the highway patrol representative, Turner, arrived at about the same time.

  Turner reached out his hand in succession to each of them. He was a big burly guy with a dimple in his chin and a ready smile.

  She assigned Tye to coordinate the officers at the gym. Clay and Turner were asked to rotate in the guarding of Jamie, Beth, and Loretta when they were doing their preparatory work at Loretta’s house Friday afternoon.

  “Boss said we’d assign an officer to each woman once the festivities begin,” Turner reported.

  “That’s great,” Lexie replied. “Red, can you fly Tye to Bogotá tomorrow? We need to check out Sean’s story.”

  “No, can do. I’ve got another job. Phone Max Larson at Soaring Flights. His plane is better than mine and he speaks Spanish.”

  Lexie tried to catch Red’s attention with her look but he focused on the men.

  “I need to move on down the road,” Red interrupted. “Got work to do.”

  Lexie followed him out the door. “What happened to your promise about helping?”

  “Only applied to the United States.”

  “You generally can’t wait for an excuse to fly off into the sunset. So why are you deserting me now?” Lexie felt the redness invading her face.

  “The last thing I’d do is desert you.” His hand touched her shoulder.

  She shrugged it off. “So that’s why you won’t go?”

  “You got it. Someone wanted you dead and I’m not leaving the country the same time as Tye.”

  “How many times have I told you that I don’t need a babysitter?”

  “Way too many, so you might as well give it up. You’re wasting your breath,” Red scowled.

  “Why are you such a pain in the ass?” Lexie looked directly into his eyes.

  Red returned her stare then leaned his head down as if to kiss her. Instead, he turned her head to the side and whispered in her ear, “Because I love you.” He quickly turned and left only his back for Lexie’s glare.

  She watched him walk away. Pretending that his declaration of love in Washington was a fluke wasn’t so easy now.

  By the time she got back in the office, Tye had contacted Max Larson about the trip to Bogotá.

  “I’m going to Tulsa to spend the night.” Tye grabbed his coffee cup and jacket. “Max said we’d leave at six in the morning, so I figure I need to be there and be ready. I’m going to go pack.”

  “I’ll call ahead to make sure the authorities know why you’re coming. Try not to get into trouble.” Lexie shook a finger at him.

  “Not me, I’m too mild mannered.”

  “Like I believe that!” Lexie snuck up from behind and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Don’t get all mushy—makes me wonder what you’re up to. I’ll be back in three or four days.” Tye saluted as he exited.

  “I’m out of here, too.” Lexie patted Delia’s back. “I need to make arrangements for a horseback ride early in the morning.”

  “Why?” Clay asked.

  “Because it’s time I brought Wilbur back to his cell.”

  “Don’t you want Clay to go with you?” Delia sounded worried.

  “He’ll need to sleep after being on duty all night. I’ve arranged for Turner to come in days while Tye is gone.”

  Turner nodded.

  “I’ll check in with you every hour so you can monitor what’s going on. Wilbur’s doesn’t have a history of shooting anyone. However, he might consider it, as an alternative to being penned up.”

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Tye buckled his seatbelt, then visually sized up his pilot, Max Larson. Max was probably in his early fifties, of medium height, with gray thinning hair. Based on the airplane and the diamond ring on his hand, Tye assumed Max had plenty of money.

  “Hello,” Max welcomed him aboard.

  “I appreciate you flying me on this short notice.” Tye settled into his red cushioned seat and fastened the seatbelt.

  “I don’t have anything better to do. I thought about flying to Paris for the weekend, but the thought of Columbia brought back some old memories.”

  Tye’s curiosity was aroused. “So you’ve been to Columbia before?”

  “Yes, in 1970. I went as an interpreter for a professor from Wabash College.” Max turned his attention toward maneuvering the plane down the runway.

  Tye took the cue to keep his mouth shut until the plane was airborne. He had the idea that Max was fairly new at flying. Tye preferred to not know the answer to that question, so he didn’t ask.

  “What was that professor doing in Columbia? Collecting drugs?” Tye joked after the plane was leveled in the air.

  Max sounded irritated, “No, that was before FARC got involved with cocaine to raise funds for their guerilla organization.”

  “What’s FARC?”

  “Revolutionary Armed Forces of Columbia. Those are the dirt bags who captured the three Americans last year.”

  “I do remember that story,” Tye reflected with a nod.

  “Columbia was a friendly place for Americans until FARC showed up. Now there are men who’ll kidnap or murder you without a second thought. Especially, if they think they can get a ransom.”

  “In that case, I’m surprised you agreed to fly me.”

  Max gave him a sideways glance. “I’m just landing and leaving, then coming back to pick you up. San Jamiese del Guaviare is too dangerous for me. Strange that an American would bury a loved one there.”

  Tye responded, “Sean worked for the American Embassy in Bogotá.
I thought that’s where his child would be buried, but he had something to hide. Maybe that’s why the body ended up in San Jose del Guaviare instead of being returned to the U.S.”

  “It certainly was the perfect place to hide a body,” Max agreed.

  Tye changed the subject, “So what were you doing in Columbia in 1970?”

  “Collecting samples of slime molds.”

  “I’ve never heard of that.” Tye shook his head.

  “The professor thought they were fascinating because they’re part plant and part animal on different life cycles. We put dirt samples in film canisters for him to study.”

  “To each his own.” Tye paused and looked out the window aware of an approaching storm. “What else can you tell me about the place?”

  “It’s been over thirty years since I’ve been in that part of the world. Max paused and seemed to be stretching his memory. “There were lots of vines, monkeys, and snakes. Also, great fishing in the Amazon River. Mostly Peace Corp people around back then. We had some wild bus rides, weird hotel accommodations, and an occasional lizard on the supper table.”

  “Any cars around?” Tye asked.

  “Some from the fifties. I went to visit one little Columbian gal and the family garage opened into their house. So the car was parked in the house on the linoleum floor. Driving there was a gamble since they virtually had no traffic signs back then.”

  “Sounds like an adventure,” Tye said with a chuckle.

  “Probably the most interesting thing that happened was the day we needed to cross a river. There was no bridge to drive the jeep over. These guys had us drive the jeep into two canoes and they floated us across. Now that was an experience.” Max’s laughter filled the plane.

  Tye joined in. “I hope they’ve built more bridges since you were there. I don’t want to drown in a jeep.”

  Max’s tone became serious. “What you’re doing is dangerous. You may never get back home. There are killers in the jungle. It may be difficult for you to get a guide, but I will help you with that before I fly to Villavicencio.”

  “What’s so interesting there?”

  “They used to have fabulous silver jewelry. I thought I’d get my wife a little gift since I’ll be so close.” Max’s lips tightened. “You try to get some rest while I concentrate on flying through this thunderstorm.”

  “Okay.” Tye turned his head toward the window. Max obviously was nervous about flying in the storm, so Tye was glad the conversation ended. He told himself to concentrate on how to keep himself alive once they landed. It wasn’t possible to make any plans since he didn’t know what he was going to face. Just play it by ear and pray a little.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Lexie glanced at the clock on her truck’s dashboard. It was six-thirty a.m. Tye should have taken off thirty minutes before. The horse trailer made the truck difficult to steer. Many times it was necessary to correct the constant pull to the left.

  Her mind couldn’t stay off Tye. Maybe it’s a mistake to send him. She found on the Internet last night that in the 1990s Columbia was one of the most deadly places in the world. According to the article in Wikipedia, it was not as dangerous now. That was her only solace.

  Pulling the truck and trailer to the side of Lulu’s Country Store and Diner, Lexie put the truck in park. Lulu’s was the favorite stop for campers to buy their bug spray, not to mention the essential beer and worms.

  Lulu came around the corner as Lexie slid from the seat of the truck. “What are you up to, Lexie Girl?”

  The head of the five-foot woman fit snuggly under Lexie’s chin during the bear hug she delivered.

  “I’m trying to sneak this truck and trailer out of the way, so I can go on a horseback ride.”

  “You sure ain’t very secretive, girl, with that big rig.”

  “I never can fool you.” Lexie patted Lulu’s shoulder.

  “No, and you still can’t, even though I’m seventy-nine.”

  “So, am I parked out of the way enough not to interfere with your customers?”

  “It’s fine, young’un. I bet you’re goin’ in the woods to look for that drug sellin’ fool, Wilbur.”

  “I really can’t keep any secrets from you. But please don’t tell anyone.”

  “I weren’t going to.” Lulu assured her with a hand squeeze. “I keep my mouth shut about sheriff business. Sure, you can park here as long as you want. Do you need help gettin’ that spotted horse out?”

  “I can handle Flame just fine, but thanks anyway. By the way, Turner from the highway patrol will be here in a few minutes. He’ll be close if I need him.”

  “Well, I got to get back to fryin’ eggs for them hungry men folks. You come on in the store and tell me bye when you’re finished chasin’ Wilbur so I can quit worrin’ about you.”

  “I’ll do it,” Lexie promised.

  Lexie backed Flame out of the trailer then saddled him. It was a mile ride to the river turnoff, but she wasn’t going to risk driving any further. Wilbur wasn’t going to get the benefit of a warning from the rattle of a trailer on a rocky road. She easily put a foot in the stirrup and swung her free leg over the saddle. Times like this made her glad her dad taught his daughter what he taught his son. She knew how to shoot straight, lasso, and ride better than most men. Her mother named her Alexandria hoping for a girlie-girl. Instead she ended up with a tomboy who liked to climb trees and push her male friends into the creek. Lexie wasn’t the daughter her mother wanted, and her disappointment was always evident.

  Lexie held the reigns loose allowing Flame to follow his instinctive path beside the highway. The blacktop and thoughts of her mother ended as soon as she saw the rocky curving road that went toward Wilbur’s house. Memories of Abbey’s death crowded her mind.

  Flame wasn’t in any hurry. His gait was slow as they entered the woods. She let him find a path through the underbrush. His hoof beats blended perfectly with the sounds of nature. Splotches of blue sky were all that was visible through the green canopy. A hawk let out a squawk as she and Flame invaded its sanctuary. It was so soothing to ride in this world untouched by human rigmarole that she lost her focus.

  Her eyes darted from side to side and she twisted her body to look behind her. She was afraid she’d missed something by allowing her mind to wander so far from her purpose. There didn’t appear to be anything that didn’t belong—except Flame and her.

  The creek ahead apparently looked inviting to Flame because his steps quickened. The horse went cautiously down the incline. Stiffening her body, Lexie controlled it from falling forward.

  Flame stood in the middle of the creek and began a long lapping of water. Having nothing else to do, Lexie watched the water flow swiftly down the stream, then pool into a large open area as if to rest before it returned to its hurried trip to the river. The brown stones under the water were slick from the constant movement of the water.

  Minnows scattered as Flame’s tongue got too close for comfort. Pulling his head up, Flame shook it from side to side. Lexie wasn’t sure if he was shaking the water off, or if a minnow tickled his snout.

  Lexie gave the bridle a tug and Flame continued their journey across the creek and up the other bank. Thirty minutes later, she dismounted and tied Flame to a tree. She was pretty sure she was within five minutes walking distance to Wilbur’s house.

  A sound exploded in the distance with its echo rippling through the woods. Dropping to the ground, Lexie waited, but only the insects and the wind created noise. The gunshot coming from the direction of Wilbur’s place didn’t appear to be meant for her.

  Standing, she visually explored the surrounding area. Running forward, she tried to avoid the branches on the ground that might pop and break with the pressure of her weight and create a path of sound for whoever was firing the gun. As Lexie neared the house, she stooped down and walked cautiously toward the back door.

  “You sonofabitch!” The angry voice bellowed from within the house. “Next time I’m goin�
� to shoot you through the head. I want my money now. You ain’t cheatin’ me from what’s rightfully mine.”

  “I ain’t got it. My woman took it when she left.”

  “You lyin’ bastard!” the voice blurted out in a staccato yell. “I’m goin’ to beat the shit out of you!”

  Lexie heard the sound of wood hitting the floor and Wilbur’s high-pitched scream. Looking through the space between the curtains as the wind blew against them, she saw Wilbur tied to a chair that had fallen on its side. The sleeve of his shirt was wet with blood. His cousin, Toby, stood over him with a gun to the side of his head.

  “I’m goin’ to kill you deader than a rock.” Toby’s voice was hoarse. The gun in his right hand shook. He stabilized it with his left hand. “Give it to me now or you’ll be in hell tonight.”

  “I told you I ain’t got your money.” Lexie barely heard the words that Wilbur breathlessly squeaked out.

  “You bastard!” Toby yelled. “Five, four, three, two—”

  Lexie fired her shot through the open window aiming at Toby’s right leg. The bullet hit its mark.

  Grabbing his leg, Toby dropped the gun, and a wild animal roar exploded out of his mouth.

  Lexie crashed through the back door.

  Toby grabbed for his gun. One shot ricocheted off the door facing Lexie. Next he turned the gun to Wilbur’s head. “You bastard!” he hollered. “Get my money!”

  Wilbur’s face crunched into a mass of fleshy terror. Lexie fired the shot directly at Toby’s chest and watched him fall to the floor.

  Adrenaline shot through Lexie’s body. She quickly pulled the walkie-talkie from her backpack. The words came out fast, “Turner, call the med helicopter. I’ve got two wounded men here. Tell them they need a police officer to come with them.”

  “Are you okay?” Turner’s voice was strained.

  “Yes. Just get them here immediately. Over and out.”

  While she was untying Wilbur from the chair she noted that his face was pale, his eyes glassy.

  After helping him to the couch, she got an old dishtowel to wrap around his wound.

  Toby’s breathing was shallow, his pulse slow. She pressed a towel against his chest which was soon saturated with blood. Droplets of blood sprinkled her as he coughed.