“I made her take me. I didn’t give her a choice,” Luke insists, a last-ditch effort to protect Olivia. I know it’s admirable but it’s ineffective. Rules are rules, and they exist to save lives.
“You don’t get it. She’s in charge,” I explain, pointing vigorously at Olivia. “The responsibility lies on her shoulders. If this had gone differently tonight the onus would have been on her. She knows that. It shouldn’t have mattered what you said or what you did. She should be able to manage the situation.” There is finality in my voice that tells them both this aspect of the conversation is over. “Now brief me on what you heard, and let’s call Nick so you can show him the photos of the Marshals for identification. Tell me what happened.”
“Yes, sir,” Olivia agrees, and I see Devin enter the room and take an interest. “We approached the trailer that seemed to have had the most activity tonight. From outside we saw two Marshals enter. We thought perhaps they were there on duty, investigating the situation finally . . . maybe even there on Nick’s orders. We heard some shouting and I approached, concerned that they might need some backup. I instructed Luke to stay put. When I was close enough to hear the conversation going on inside, it became clear these Marshals were not there on federal business but instead were arguing with the occupants of the trailer about making sure the plan went off without a hitch. They were threatening the two parties about ensuring their ‘women’ stuck to the story and stayed clean long enough to give sworn statements regarding the murder of Brent. That’s when Luke approached, and I nearly took his head off.”
“I told you I didn’t give her a choice,” Luke shoots back, but Olivia shakes her head in disagreement. This is the problem with working with people who don’t understand risk. They have never had bullets whizzing by their heads so they just believe that will never happen. Olivia and I know better. She’s been out there just like I have, that’s one reason she isn’t arguing with me. She’s seen blood and death. She’s seen innocent people killed. She was distracted today, but ultimately I’m sure, just like me, she never wants to see it again.
“Do you know who the men in the trailer were? Not the Marshals but the other men?” Devin asks, taking a seat on the couch. He looks like shit, enough so that Luke has to do a double-take.
“I believe one is the brother of one of the girls and the other is the boyfriend of the other girl. Both men seem to be a part of the cooking of the meth or distributing it. They were speaking with the two Marshals about some aspects of the business and they seemed well-versed, which leads me to believe they are well-invested in the plan. The Marshals, on the other hand, were fairly quiet but we managed to gather some evidence against them. We also saw plenty of chemicals out back and paraphernalia inside. It’s probably how they had a connection for getting the toxic chemicals they dumped on different properties to try to sink the deal.”
“So the girls are directly related to two men who are selling or making drugs in a ring we think Hoyle runs? And there were also two Marshals there who seemed associated with the business? That seems like enough. Can’t we move forward? Was Hoyle mentioned?” Devin asks, looking hopeful.
“Not by name, but they referred to ‘the boss’ a couple of times. They mentioned this was his big power play. He was sure that you wouldn’t let ‘the girl’ rot in jail. That you would cave as long as they kept putting the pressure there,” Olivia says, still standing nearly at attention as she answers Devin’s questions. She doesn’t really know these people or understand who Rebecca is to them and why getting her out of jail is so important.
“And what did they say they would do if it didn’t work?” Devin asks, and I let him. It’s not really his place to be leading Olivia through this, but I know he’s torn up inside and needs answers.
“They stated they would have someone get to her in prison. Presumably to hurt her.” Olivia states this matter-of-factly because that’s how she’s trained. She’s able to drop emotion and the injection of her personal opinions when she’s focused to on her mission. But Jordan is slightly less prepared for the news. I hear her gasp, and I’m tempted to spin and hold her. I realize how hypocritical I’m being. I have an expectation that Olivia maintain the robotic cold demeanor that’s been drilled into us while I’m considering pulling Jordan into my arms and promising her everything will be all right.
“Click, you have to do something. You can’t let that happen,” Jordan insists, her voice shaking slightly. I know her better now than I did when we met, and I can tell the level of fear coursing through her.
“It’s not going to.” Devin stands up and forcefully grabs his coat.
“Where are you going, Devin?” As I ask, I realize I already know the answer. He responds with knee-jerk responses. That’s part of his makeup. It’s a sloppy and impulsive way of handling things, and I see why Luke is so vital for him. He’s the voice of reason and the cleanup crew. But he’s about to step into a mess none of us will be able to clean up.
“I’m going to that trailer.” He says it like a challenge, as though he’s positive no one will be able to talk him out of that.
“It doesn’t work like that, Devin. You go in there, shoot some people up—you think that’s going to stop them, or will it make it worse for her? We don’t know how deep this goes. We need someone higher than all this. We need a contact that has no connections to Clover but will be willing to take a risk for us,” Luke says, and I can tell Devin is taking in his words. This is a dance they likely do often, even though the stakes have never been this high.
The room is silent, eyes looking from one to another, we are all waiting for an answer or a solution. Jordan sits down on the couch and bites nervously at her nails. She’s so much more emotional than people see. But I tune right into it. I know she’s shaken and feeling helpless, even if she still has her brash exterior always at the ready.
“My uncle,” Olivia says just above a whisper. She’s relaxed her stance slightly and I can see the wheels in her head spinning below her tightly pulled-back hair. She paces the room as she continues to think, looking like she’s arguing with herself. “My uncle works for Homeland Security,” she finally blurts out. “He’s high up there. I don’t tell people because I don’t want them thinking that’s how I’ve gotten this job or earned commendations. I can call him. He’ll get you some people who can help.”
“He’d be willing to do that?” Devin asks, relaxing his shoulders slightly but keeping his hand on the doorknob. He’s skeptical but willing to listen.
“My father was killed overseas when I was two years old. My uncle has been a second father to me. I’ve never called in a single favor. If I call, he’ll know I need him. He’ll send people.”
“And you’ll do that for us?” Luke asks, eyeing Olivia to see if she’s sure.
“I made a mistake earlier tonight. I don’t make mistakes. I’m not saying I’ve never failed or fallen short, but I’ve never made such a blatant error before. That is not how I operate. I’ll make the call and see how soon he can get people here. I want to make this right.” Olivia pulls her coat closed and steps outside. I’m not sure I blame her for her slip-up. I can say I haven’t been myself lately. Look what I did with the journal. Either way, we need help, and if she can bring it here then I’m sure as hell going to let her.
Luke moves toward the door to follow Olivia but stops short. “The lawyer I called from New York landed this morning. There’s a bail hearing this afternoon. Are you going to go to it?”
I watch Devin shift nervously. “She doesn’t want me there,” he says through gritted teeth. “But whatever bail is, pay it. I want her out of there today. I don’t want them to be able to get to her. Just bring her home.”
“So everyone has a job then. I’ll deal with the lawyer. Olivia will get us some outside help. Jordan and Click will work on the book for more answers.”
“And what am I supposed to do?” Devin asks, slipping out of his coat as he realizes he has nowhere to go anymore.
Luke stares directly into Devin’s face as he speaks. “You need to figure out how to fix what you did by the time we have Rebecca out of jail. You need to figure out what you screwed up and how to make it right.”
“Where the hell do I start? I thought I was helping her. I thought she’d be grateful to have my full support in getting her out.”
“Go back to where it started, Devin. That’s the only thing I can think of. Go back to whatever connected you both all these years. Just figure it out.” Luke follows Olivia outside to make phone calls.
I watch as Devin covers his face with his hands, completely exasperated. “Figure it out,” he says to himself as he reaches for his bag and pulls out the stack of letters I’ve heard him talk about. We’ve got enough on our plate, but part of me really does hope he has a plan for making things right with Rebecca. She deserves a good life. She’s earned it.
Chapter Fourteen
Devin
I don’t know how to change directions. I think that’s my biggest problem. Imagine a blacksmith sitting over a fire, hammering out something that he’s dreamed about for years. He’s shaping it and bending it to be exactly what he’s envisioned. He loses sleep; he bleeds for it. He forgets to eat. He allows nothing to be more important to him than finishing what he’s started. And as he nears the end, the framework completely built, his hands burned, and his skin black from soot, someone tosses water over the fire he’s been standing in front of and tells him to stop.
That’s how hard it feels to give up chasing these ghosts. That’s how earth-shattering it would be to find out Rebecca knew more than she ever told me about Brent’s murder and how devastating it would be to lose her at this point. I’ve created all this and to change directions now seems impossible. Like I’ve wasted my life and my energy.
The house is too quiet now, and I’m relieved when Olivia and Luke step back in. She looks like she has some redemptive news. “I’ve spoken to my uncle. He’s sending us a man who should be able to straighten all this out. Kurt Evangeline is a deputy director of the ATF, and my uncle assures me he’ll blow the doors off the drug ring. He said he won’t have much jurisdiction over what is happening to Rebecca but he could make some calls.”
“When can he be here?” I ask as I watch them sit down on the couch. There is plenty of room for Luke to slide over but he’s chosen to nestle up beside her. I expect to see Olivia recoil slightly, but she seems perfectly content with the close proximity.
“The good news is he lives in Charlotte. He’s driving over now. He should be here in a couple hours.” Olivia isn’t a smug woman, confident is more like it, and it’s showing through in spades at the moment.
“So we have the lawyer and the contacts to hopefully bring Hoyle down,” I say, nodding my head trying to reassure myself.
“I need to go meet the lawyer this afternoon. I’ve given him the background over the phone, but I want to check in with him face to face. He’s a shark, Devin; he won’t let any of this small-town bullshit fly. He’s expensive but worth every penny.”
“I don’t care how much it costs. Like I said, just bring her home today.”
Nick, who came in a few minutes ago, is still sitting quietly in the corner. He clears his throat and stands. “Luke can I see those pictures of the Marshals you and Olivia saw at the trailer last night? I’m dreading this. Finding out guys in my department are involved is going to kill me.”
Olivia pulls her phone from the clip on her waist and directs it toward him. “Shit,” Nick says, snatching the phone and looking like he might punch a hole in the wall.
“Friends of yours?” I ask, assuming these faces in the photographs mean something to him.
“I know these men. I could give a damn about Louis Smalls, but Duncan Kerri is one of my oldest friends. He stood up with me at my wedding, saw my kids baptized. Are you positive you heard him incriminate himself?”
Nick is looking Olivia over with a scrutinizing eye.
“I’m sorry, Nick, but I’m absolutely sure what I heard. If it’s any consolation he did look reluctant and said very little.”
“I think I’m gonna puke,” Nick says, pulling his hat off and dropping heavily into the chair in the corner of the room.
“When my uncle’s man gets here, Nick, he won’t care if you guys are friends or not. He’ll plow through that place and take down anyone involved,” Olivia states matter-of-factly.
“Do you want to see the eggs I had for breakfast? I already know this. Duncan is a good man. His wife was diagnosed with cancer three years ago and she’s been fighting for her life ever since. Their medical bills outweigh their income by a mile. She was a teacher but can’t work anymore. He’s picked up as many odd jobs as he can while working as a Marshal. I knew they were about to lose their house. I think he made a deal with the devil. Probably felt like he had no choice. But thank you for reminding me how inevitable his incarceration is.”
Olivia shakes her head as though he’s misunderstood her. “So what I’m saying, Nick, is if you want to get your buddy out of this, you have about two hours. If you really think you can trust him, if he means that much to you, I would flip him and work to get him immunity. But you better be damn sure he’s a good guy gone off the righteous path and someone worth saving.”
“He is, I’d bet my life on it,” Nick shoots back, hope reigniting in his eyes.
“Well that’s good because that’s exactly what you’d be doing. If you go in there and he’s not who you think he is, I’m sure he’ll shoot you dead.”
“Olivia.” Click, who has been silently standing in the doorway, finally speaks. “Have you lost your freaking mind?”
“Excuse me?” she asks, looking confused and indignant.
“Are you actually advising Nick to go and give someone involved in the incarceration of Rebecca and the distribution of drugs a chance to get off?”
“No, I’m telling a man that if he wants to help his friend, he’d better do it quickly. This isn’t Iraq, sir. There are no hard and fast rules about what to do. At some point you have to start living in the real world again. You have to start looking at the gray rather than just the black and white of it all. Nick has known him a long time, he trusts him, and it’s his choice to make. I know I might be out of line here, but wouldn’t you do the same if it were someone in this room who you had a chance to help?”
“And if this thing blows up, and Duncan runs back to the sheriff and we’ve shown our hand. Then what?”
“He won’t,” Nick says assertively, straightening from the slumped position in the chair. “I promise. He won’t.”
Click throws his hands up in defeat and turns to head upstairs. He’s halted by Nick’s voice.
“I’ll leave it to you, Devin,” Nick says, holding his breath as he waits for me to decide. “I won’t go talk to Duncan if you don’t want me to. I know this is Rebecca’s life on the line here.”
I roll my eyes up to the ceiling as I think this over. “Your dad put his neck out for me all those years ago, and from the sound of it he paid dearly for it. If you honestly think this guy’s worth it and he can be trusted, then I believe you. But don’t blow it. Please.”
“I won’t.” Nick turns for the door. “I’ll bring him back here to talk to your ATF guy. He could give us everything we need.”
When the door shuts behind Nick I hear Click grumble as he climbs the stairs, “Or he could get someone killed.”
Chapter Fifteen
Luke
I watch Olivia walk the long dirt driveway as she surveys the perimeter and I wonder how she decided this was the life she wanted. I guess it makes me weak or cowardly, but I’ve never understood the people who see danger and run toward it while the rest of us run from it. Don’t get me wrong, there are people I love and would lay down my life for if they needed me. The difference is Olivia and people like her are willing to do it for complete strangers. They don’t need to know what you believe or how much money you have; you call, they come. And fo
r the life of me I can’t wrap my head around that.
She walks up to me while I’m still trying to figure her out and apparently can read my face.
“What’s the matter with you?” she asks as she dusts some dirt off her pants. “You look constipated.”
“I’m trying to figure you out,” I admit as I laugh at her joke. “What makes you willing to be here for people you don’t know? Is it the money? There is real danger here, so I’d imagine you wouldn’t put yourself in the line of fire if it weren’t worth your while.”
“This isn’t the line of fire,” she says as she pulls her flashlight from her belt and points it under the crawl space of the house. “Trust me, I’ve been in war zones, in a new kind of war, one where women dodge bullets just like men. So coming to Clover is probably equivalent to a Caribbean cruise by comparison. I don’t consider this that dangerous, and I don’t do it for the money.”
“So why enlist in the first place? You knew there was a war going on. You must have had other opportunities in your life. Why the military?”
“It’s not really something you can explain to someone. I genuinely love this country. I love what it stands for: progress made on civil rights and ideals people are allowed to fight for and speak out for. I want to keep it that way and that means some of us have to line up and volunteer to risk our lives to maintain what we have. That’s why I signed up.”
“Was there a moment you decided? Or did you always know it was what you wanted?” I don’t know why I have to get to this answer, but I want to know what’s driving her. When she lays her head on her pillow at night what goes through her mind? I’ve spent most of my time with her up until this point just cracking jokes and trying to be cool, but I need more than that. I want to really know her.
“I think after losing my dad overseas I always knew I wanted to follow in his footsteps, but yes, there was a moment when it became clear it was what I wanted to do. I was sixteen and visiting my cousin in Mississippi. We were walking to the mall and accidently found ourselves in the middle of a white supremacist march. I’d never seen anything like it. They were screaming hateful things and it scared me. When we went back to her house I cried, and her father told us to get into the car. He drove us down to another part of town where people were gathered. They were mostly African-American and I hoped they hadn’t heard about the hateful things going on in town.
All My Heart (The Clover Series) Page 9
