As Emory turned the ignition in his car, Jeff entered the passenger side and handed him the bottle of pills he had removed from the bag. “Here you go. I took them out.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“There’s no need to have them tested unless she doesn’t find anything in the other things we brought her. I’d still get a new prescription.”
Emory nodded. “Thank you.”
“So where to next?”
Emory was about to answer him when he heard chiming from his phone. It had died the previous night and was now charging on the arm rest between them.
“Damn, you missed a lot of calls.”
Emory checked his call log. “It’s Mom. I wonder what’s wrong.” He called his voicemail, and Lula Mae’s shaky voice played over his car’s speakers.
“Emory, it’s your mama. Something happened with your dad. He was attacked, and he’s at the hospital. I need you here.”
Other than a gasp, Emory froze in his seat.
Jeff popped out of the vehicle and hurried to the driver side, opening the door. “Get out,” he ordered. “I’ll drive.” Jeff helped him out of the car to the passenger side and sped through the ninety-minute drive to Barter Ridge in an hour.
CHAPTER 25
EMORY BOLTED INTO the hospital room and found his father propped up in bed with a bandage around his head. “Dad, are you okay?”
Sheriff Rome smiled and said, “I’m fine, Son,” in rhythm with the beeping heart monitor.
Emory gave him a gentle hug, grateful to find him lucid and awake, but the older man still winced in pain. “I’m sorry.”
The sheriff waved off his concern. “No, it’s okay. I’m just sore all over.”
Emory jumped when a hand grabbed his arm, and he turned to see his mother’s tear-stained face.
Lula Mae hugged him. “I’m so glad you’re here,”
Emory glanced at the chair behind her. “Mom, I didn’t even see you.” He broke away and grabbed the back of his dark brown hair. “What happened?”
Sheriff Rome related the details of the previous night, and Emory’s anger swelled when the story reached the physical attack on his father. “He forced me to drink something – had a grape flavor to it. It must’ve been spiked.”
The water! Emory clenched his fists at his side.
“I’ve never felt like that, the way I did when I woke up outside – like I didn’t have control of my body.”
Lula Mae rubbed his shin through the blanket. “It’s a good thing he was able to fire that gun. I might never have found him.”
“You found him?”
The sheriff grinned. “You know your mama. Can’t sleep without me there.”
“His restless legs vibrate me to sleep,” she said with a sarcastic smile. “When he didn’t come home after an hour, I started to worry and decided to go looking for him. I drove around the factory, and I heard gunshots. My heart was just pounding. I saw the flash when he fired the last one. I didn’t know if it was him or…Then I saw him.” Lula Mae’s throat went hoarse, and tears filled her eyes.
Emory put an arm around his mother as she took the sheriff’s hand and squeezed it. “Dad, who were you firing at?”
“Not who. What. When I woke up, I heard coyotes coming at me from the woods.”
“Oh my god.”
“I reached for my gun, but it wasn’t in my holster. Whoever did this to me took my gun. Thank goodness I always have Loretta with me. That’s my—”
“I remember,” said Emory. “Loretta the Beretta.”
“Anyway, I fired a few shots in the general direction. I don’t know if I got any of them, but it must’ve kept them at bay.”
Lula Mae told Emory, “I didn’t see any when I got there.”
“They were there, I tell you. I didn’t imagine them.”
“Dad, do you have any idea who attacked you? Anything to go on?”
“Well, I feel silly for saying this, but it really did happen so fast. My deputies are at the factory now going over the place. You should talk to the foreman. He was attacked too. Worse off than I am. Maybe he saw more than me. A couple of deputies tried to talk to him this morning, but he was still unconscious. Lula Mae, where’d they say he was?”
“Just down the hall. I’ll take you there.”
As Lula Mae led him out of the room, Emory panicked. I can’t interview the foreman. He’ll recognize me as the intruder at the factory. What will he say when he sees me again? How am I supposed to explain it? Along the way, he saw Jeff in the waiting room. “Mom, I need to talk to someone first.” He nodded to Jeff, who started to walk their way until Emory motioned him to stay put. “You can just let me know which room it is and get back to Dad.”
“Okay, honey.” Lula Mae pointed down the hall. “I don’t know the room number, but it’s the last one on the left.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Emory left her and walked to Jeff.
“How’s your dad?”
“He’s going to be okay. Listen, I need your help.” Emory gave him the highlights of his father’s attack.
“He was drugged too? There seriously is something in the water here.”
“Now Dad wants me to talk to the foreman to see if he has any helpful information.”
“But won’t he recognize you?”
“Exactly. I think Dad forgot about that. Would you talk to the foreman?”
“Of course.”
“I appreciate it. Here’s what I need you to ask.”
Jeff stopped him with an open palm. “I know how to conduct an interview.”
Emory wanted to say more to ensure his own questions were answered, but he held back. “Okay.” He then jumped when he heard his mom calling from behind him. “Mom, what is it?”
Lula Mae looked to Jeff. “Hello.”
“Mom, this is Jeff Woodard. He’s a private investigator who’s helping with the case.”
“Very nice to meet you, ma’am. I’m so sorry about what happened to your husband.”
“Thank you. The doctor says he’ll be okay, but we’ll be staying here overnight. Emory, would you be able to take care of Sophie until tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
“There’s plenty of food for you in the fridge. Sophie hasn’t even been fed today.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Emory remembered he wasn’t alone. “Ah, Jeff rode down with me.”
Jeff told him, “Don’t worry about me. If you don’t mind, I could just borrow your car tonight and come back tomorrow.”
Lula Mae spoke before Emory could respond. “I don’t know how you boys stomach all the driving back and forth. It’d make me a nervous wreck. Why don’t you just stay at our place? We have plenty of room, and you both have important work to finish here.”
“Thank you for the hospitality,” said Jeff. “And Mrs. Rome, I promise you we’re going to find the son-of-a-bitch who did this to your husband.”
Emory was mortified that Jeff would curse in front of his mother, but Lula Mae smiled at the PI. She gave him a sweet hug and kissed Emory on the cheek before leaving them alone.
Jeff said to Emory, “I don’t really have to stay if you’re not comfortable.”
Emory shook his head. “You heard my mother.”
“Okay then. I have a witness to interview.”
As the two investigators left the hospital, Jeff related to Emory everything the foreman had told him. “He said he had just gotten a cup of coffee, trying to stay awake, when someone attacked him with a stun gun from behind. He has a pacemaker, and he thinks something happened to it that made him pass out. He didn’t see a thing.”
“Same as Dad.”
“I wonder why your dad wasn’t killed.”
Emory glowered at him. “That’s an odd thing to say. Did you want him to be dead?”
“Of course not. You’re missing my point. The foreman’s not dead either.”
“Oh, now I get it.”
“Do you really?”
�
��Of course not.”
“Whoever did this didn’t seem to want them dead.”
“Dad could’ve been killed by coyotes.”
“True, but that’s a variable that couldn’t have been predicted. The person who did this dragged your dad out of the way so he could finish his business. He didn’t have to worry about the foreman because he wasn’t about to wake up. Britt and Rick were killed. Why stop there?”
“But those murders were planned, methodical. The attacks at the factory were spur of the moment. Either the killer refuses to commit a murder without forethought—”
“Or the whole water situation isn’t directly related to the murders.” Jeff held up Emory’s keys. “Where to now?”
“After we feed Sophie, I want to check out the water factory – legitimately this time.”
CHAPTER 26
EMORY DROVE TO the back of the Algarotti factory and parked by the receiving area, next to two sheriff’s cars. Jeff pointed out the yellow tape encircling a small area in the adjacent woods, and the two surmised that was where the sheriff had been dragged. They walked into the factory through the wide-open rollup door and found three deputies talking and looking around. Emory knew two of them well. The third was Deputy Harris, the one who had kicked him out of his father’s office the other day.
“Hi guys,” Emory said with a wave. “Can you bring me up to speed?”
The youngest deputy hurried to block their path. “You can’t be in here.”
Deputy Loggins, a short man about the same age as the sheriff intervened. “You two haven’t met?”
“Not officially,” Emory responded.
“Harris, this is Emory Rome, the sheriff’s son. Emory, this little know-it-all is Deputy Harris, our very first college graduate on the team.”
Deputy Harris shook Emory’s hand. “Nice to meet you, but you shouldn’t be in the crime scene, even if you’re family.”
As the other two deputies snickered, Emory displayed his badge. “I’m with the TBI.”
“You’re the TBI agent?” Deputy Harris nodded at his co-workers. “They told me you were the son in real estate.”
“My dad only has one son.”
Harris glared at the other deputies, who were now belly-laughing. “Thanks guys.” He extended a hand to Jeff. “I guess you’re his partner.”
Jeff neither confirmed nor denied, but he shook his hand. “Jeff Woodard.”
Deputy Harris explained, “We’re working as fast as we can to document everything so they can open this area back up.”
Jeff asked, “What have you found so far?”
The deputies took turns pointing out where Sheriff Rome and the foreman were attacked and reconstructing their theories of how the events had played out. When they finished, Emory snapped some pictures with his phone and glanced at the double swing door that led to the wide hallway and the large, unmarked door he had tried to open the day before. He asked the deputies, “Have you searched anywhere else?”
One of the deputies pointed toward the rollup door to the outside. “We roped off the area where your dad was found, but we haven’t had a chance to investigate it yet.”
Deputy Harris chimed in with, “I did notice whoever put him there took the time to sweep over his tracks with a branch, so there are no usable footprints.”
Emory raised his hands out to his side. “What about the rest of the factory?”
“What about it?” Deputy Harris asked.
“The whole place is a potential crime scene.”
The deputy looked at Emory like he was stupid. He pointed with the palms of his hands to the floor. “The crime scene is over here. Both victims were attacked here, and then the sheriff was dragged outside.”
“There could be other victims somewhere in the factory,”
Deputy Harris shook his head. “I already thought of that. No one is unaccounted for.”
“According to who?” asked Jeff.
“The owner,” Deputy Harris answered. “He also told us to confine it to the immediate area where the incident occurred and to get it done as quickly as possible so they could reopen the dock.”
“Victor might be able to account for all the employees, but my father wasn’t an employee, and he was attacked here. There might be someone else. We need to search the whole factory for other victims.”
Deputy Harris took Emory aside to tell him, “I know this is emotional for you, given your connection to the victim.” He waved an arm toward the other deputies. “We’re all upset about what happened to the sheriff. But you need to put your emotions aside. If you did, you’d understand we don’t have a right to search outside the immediate crime scene without a search warrant.”
Maintaining listening distance, Jeff butted in to ask Deputy Harris, “Do you want to be responsible for someone dying just because you refused to look around?”
The deputy sighed and crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll see about getting us a warrant.”
While the deputy radioed for a warrant, Jeff led Emory away. “Okay, spill. What are you up to?”
“Taking a page from your book.” Emory pointed to the double doors. “Down that hallway is a locked, unmarked door. Even the foreman didn’t know what was on the other side.”
“What do you think it is?”
“I don’t know. It could be nothing, but my gut’s nagging at me.”
Jeff nodded. “That’s good enough for me. I’ll call Victor to see if we can get a key by the time the search warrant arrives.”
Forty minutes later, Deputy Harris returned with a search warrant in hand.
Emory’s first question was, “The warrant’s for the whole building, correct?” When Deputy Harris nodded, Emory headed for the unmarked room “Good. I know where to start.”
Deputy Harris tried the doorknob. “It’s locked.”
Jeff told him, “I tried tracking down the key, but no one here has one for this particular room.”
“No master key?” Harris asked.
Jeff shook his head. “I’ve left messages for Victor and his assistant, but they haven’t returned my call.”
“Then we’ll search the rest of the place and come back. Give him more time.” Deputy Harris led the other deputies away, but Emory and Jeff stayed behind.
Emory banged a fist against the door. “Dammit!”
Jeff touched Emory’s back. “It’s okay. It shouldn’t take long for them to get back here.”
“Patience is not one of my virtues.”
Jeff dropped his hand and examined him. “From where I stand, you have plenty of virtues.”
Emory fought back a smile. “This door’s pretty solid. And wide. We need a way to open it in case we don’t get the key.”
“Why don’t I just pick the lock?”
“You can’t do that. Anything we might find would be inadmissible.”
“We could just take a quick peek and lock it back.”
Emory hardened his face. “No.”
“Fine. So what does the TBI do when you need to look inside a place and there’s no one to let you in?”
“Assuming we have a warrant, we follow the knock-and-announce policy and then wait a reasonable time for a response. If none is forthcoming, we have the right to forcibly enter.”
“So it’s better to break the door down, cause all that damage, than to pick the lock and cause none?”
Emory shrugged. “It’s the law.”
Jeff knocked on the door. “Hello? Emory Rome from the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation!”
“What are you doing?”
“Knocking and announcing,” replied Jeff before returning his attention to the door. “I have a warrant to search the premises. Open up!” He asked Emory, “What’s a reasonable time for a response?”
“Usually fifteen seconds or so.”
“Keep listening, and I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
Jeff didn’t answer as he disappeared behind the double doors leading
to the receiving area. He returned a moment later with a crowbar in hand. “I found this near where the forklifts are parked. Has anyone responded yet?”
“No.”
“Well, it’s been more than fifteen seconds.”
Emory hesitated but took a step back. “Go ahead.”
Jeff placed the beveled end of the crowbar into the crack between the door and the jamb, and he wrenched the door open, separating the door knob housing from the wood in the process.
After turning on the light, Emory’s shoulders slumped. The room was rectangular, forty feet by twenty feet. It contained several industrial shelves filled with file folders, outdated computers, countless ledgers and even boxes of floppy discs.
Jeff said, “Well, I’m not sure what we were expecting to find, but I’d have to say this is disappointing.”
Emory nodded. “It’s a records room.” He took out his phone and snapped photos of the entire area.
“Why are you taking pictures? There’s nothing to see.”
“Experience. You don’t always spot the clues at first glance. This gives me a chance to review the scene later for anything I might’ve missed.”
Jeff pointed to the floor. “There’s something odd. Tire tracks.” He looked back at the door. “I guess it is big enough to drive a forklift in here.”
Emory took pictures of the tracks and followed them to a wall lined with shelves.
The next moment Victor pounced into the room like someone catching an unfaithful lover in the act of betrayal. “What are you doing in here?”
Without missing a beat, Emory answered, “Investigating the assaults that occurred at your factory.”
Victor pointed to the floor as the deputies entered the room. “They didn’t occur here!”
Jeff chimed in with, “‘Here’ is a subjective term.”
Deputy Harris handed Victor the warrant. “Mr. Algarotti, we obtained a search warrant to see if there were any other assault victims on the premises.”
Victor told him, “There’s obviously no assault victim here.”
Keeping a calm voice, Emory responded, “Mr. Algarotti, we had no way of knowing without checking it out. We did call you and left a message.”
Murder on the Lake of Fire Page 14
