by Thomas Scott
“I can do that,” the sheriff said. “Who are you picking up?”
“The MedX security chief.” When the sheriff didn’t respond, Virgil said, “Sheriff? Is there a problem?”
“Not for you,” the sheriff said. “But there’ll be hell to pay on my end.”
“How’s that?” Virgil said.
“Because I’m in the middle of the worst divorce ever known to mankind. The lawyers are making out like bandits, and my hopefully soon-to-be ex-wife is pulling out all the stops. I’m being peeled like an onion. When she hears about this, there’ll be no end to it.”
“What’s that got to do with the MedX security chief?” Virgil said.
The sheriff laughed without humor. “Just this: Terry Wade is my wife’s brother.”
And Virgil thought, oh boy.
No matter the sheriff’s personal problems, he assured Virgil that he’d send one of his deputies their way. Ten minutes later an unmarked tan and brown county cop car pulled up on Virgil’s rear bumper. Virgil hopped out, introduced himself, and told the deputy what they were doing.
The deputy nodded and said, “I can handle that. Are you guys expecting any trouble?”
“I don’t think so. We’re just going to grab him, then follow you back to the jail and interview him there if that’s okay with you.”
“Works for me,” the deputy said. “Want me to go in with you?”
Virgil shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. We’ve spoken to him before, so I don’t think we’ll spook him if just me and my partner show up. But if you walk in with us, it could go sideways.”
“Gotcha. I’ll hang back.”
Virgil thanked him and walked back to his truck. He looked at Murton and said, “Let’s just go in, grab him, read him his rights, and then we’ll do the interview at the Boone County jail. You ready?”
“Yep,” Murton said. “Waiting on you.”
Virgil dropped the truck in gear, then out of the corner of his mouth, he said, “I need new material? That’s sort of your catchphrase.”
“It’s not a catchphrase if I’m simply stating a fact, which I am, and always have. You’re about to miss your turn.”
Virgil braked, then swung the truck into the distribution center’s lot. When they walked inside the building, they acted like they didn’t have a care in the world. Wade saw them coming and gave them a half-wave. Virgil and Murton waved back, then walked over.
Murton smiled and said, “Hey Terry, we’ve got some information you’re going to want to hear.”
Wade stuck out his hand to shake, and when he did, Virgil grabbed his wrist, spun him against the wall, and snapped the cuffs on.
“Hey, what the hell?” Wade said.
Virgil spun him back around, then said, “Terry Wade, you’re under arrest for murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and illegal distribution of a controlled substance. You have the right to remain silent…”
Chapter Thirteen
Before leaving the facility, Virgil and Murton asked the deputy to guard Wade, then went back inside and asked Ellis, the supervisor, a single question. When they had their answer, they stuffed Wade into the back of the county squad car, then told the deputy they’d follow him back to the jail.
“Don’t lose us,” Murton said. “We don’t know where your jail is.” Then he tipped his head at Virgil and said, “This one drives like he still has his learner’s permit.”
Once they were in the truck, Virgil looked at Murton and said, “I’m one of the best drivers you know.”
Murton nodded. “Just messing with you Jones-man. You can drive with the best of them. In fact, I think the only one who could take you is Small.”
“I could have taken her on that parade lap at the track and you know it,” Virgil said.
“Maybe, but she took you at the line.”
Virgil laughed. “She took me last night too.”
“Oh yeah?” Murton said. “How’s that?”
“Got the catsuit back from the cleaners.”
Murton nodded and said, “Ah…”
Like that, all the way back to the county jail.
They let Wade sweat for an hour or so, then walked into the interview room and sat down at the table. Wade’s hands were shackled to a D-ring bolted into the tabletop.
When Virgil spoke, he kept his voice calm and neutral. “Can we get you water or something from the vending machine, Mr. Wade?”
Wade ignored Virgil’s question and said, “Are you guys nuts? I didn’t kill Boyd. I told you when we spoke the first time that we were friends.”
Murton shook his head slowly and put a grim look on his face. “Here’s the deal, Mr. Wade: We can help you if you’ll cooperate with us. Right now a search warrant is being cut for your home. Are we going to find anything there that shouldn’t be there? Maybe a truckload of pseudoephedrine stashed in your garage or basement?”
Wade had tears running down his cheeks. “No. Absolutely not. There’s nothing to find because there is nothing there.”
“If you lie to us, Terry, that’s a crime,” Virgil said. “Are you aware of that?”
“Yes, I’m aware of that,” Wade said. “That’s why I’m not lying. I haven’t lied to you once.”
Virgil turned the corners of his mouth down. “You see Terry, we know for a fact that you are and you have. You told us the first time we spoke that no one knew what any of the codes on the boxes were for.”
“Yeah, and that’s the truth. No one knows. It’s a security thing like I told you the other day.”
“Except you do know the code for the pseudoephedrine, don’t you?” Virgil said.
Wade lowered his head close to the table and covered his face with his hands. When he looked back up at Virgil and Murton, he said, “I misspoke is all. I do know that one single code because Boyd saw the pharmacist open the box to fill his script. The next day he told me about it. We were joking about the whole thing, man. He said something like ‘now we’ve got a secret to keep.’ I’m telling you, it was all innocent.”
“Well, maybe not all innocent,” Murton said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Virgil threw him a curveball. “Did Boyd ever tell you about his girlfriend’s meth problem, Terry?”
“No.”
Murton leaned forward and got right in Wade’s face. “It’s getting harder and harder to keep track of the lies, Mr. Wade. You’re not doing yourself any favors.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
When Virgil and Murton didn’t respond, Wade said, “Look, no matter what, I want to get one thing on the record right here and now. I did not kill David Boyd and I don’t know who did. Period. How many times do I have to say it? We were friends.”
Murton shrugged and turned his palms up. “Sometimes friendships go bad, Wade. Was he taking so much of the product that you were losing money? Is that why you killed him?”
“I just told you, I didn’t kill him.”
“Then who did, Wade?” Virgil said. He’d taken all the calmness out of his voice.
“How the hell should I know? That’s your job, not mine.”
Virgil gave Wade a sad sort of nod. “You’re right, Terry, and it looks like our job is all but done. Unless you start telling us exactly what’s been going on, in all likelihood, you’ll be convicted as an accessory in Boyd’s murder.”
“I’m telling you, I didn’t do it, and I don’t know who did.”
Murton leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Remember that search warrant we were talking about? Here’s the thing, Terry: They won’t just search your house. They’ll go through all your personal finances too. Want to tell us about the non-existent pharmacy you and Boyd have been delivering to?”
Wade sat up straight, looked at Virgil and Murton, and said, “Lawyer.”
“You’ll get a lawyer if you want one, Terry,” Virgil said. “But the way out of this mess is to tell us two things: Who killed Boyd, and where a
re the drugs?”
Wade shook his head. “Lawyer.”
Virgil and Murton looked at each other, then stood from the table. “Good luck, Terry,” Virgil said. “I think you’re going to need it.”
They spent about an hour with Sheriff Wagner and told him everything they knew. The sheriff in turn told them that the search warrant had been executed, and was underway. “You fellas are welcome to join in if you’d like.”
Virgil shook his head. “We’ll let your people do their thing. We’ve got enough paperwork to complete as it is. Appreciate an update when you’ve got everything ready for your district attorney. They’ll probably want to coordinate with the state.”
Wagner told them it wouldn’t be a problem, and he’d be in touch. “Any idea at all where the drugs are?”
“Absolutely none,” Virgil said. “That’s going to be our main focus now. You might end up hearing from a DEA agent named Carla Martin. We’re running parallel investigations and her main focus is getting the drugs back, but she will probably want to have a word with Wade and see if she can rattle something loose.”
“We’ll extend her every courtesy,” Sheriff Wagner said.
They all shook hands, then Virgil said, “And listen, uh, good luck with the whole divorce thing and all that.”
Wagner waved him off. “Luck doesn’t have anything to do with it. That woman and her lawyer are beating me like a circus monkey.”
On the way back to the MCU, Murton turned and looked at Virgil. “I’ll tell you something, Jonesy. I’ve seen my share of killers, and I’m not entirely convinced that Wade knows who killed Boyd.”
Virgil was already nodding. “I was thinking the same thing. Is he a crook? There’s no question there. With the statement we got from Jenny Nelson, not to mention the fake pharmacy scam, he’s in some pretty hot water. But I don’t see him as the kind of guy who would be part of a murder. And Ellis said he was absolutely certain that Wade never left the facility from the time Boyd departed and the coroner’s opinion of when his death occurred.”
“Maybe Chip and Mimi will have something for us pretty soon,” Murton said.
Then, as if a little cosmic connection had been made, Murton’s phone rang. When he answered, he said, “Mimi, we’ve talked about this. You’ve got to stop calling. I’m a married man now.”
“It’s not you that I want,” Mimi said. “It’s your wife.”
“Ooh, tell me more,” Murton said.
“I’ve got a set of prints from that tire iron. That’s the good news. The bad news is sort of a two-parter. Part one is they don’t match up to Kono. Part two is they come back on the federal database as sealed.”
“And what do you want the love of my life to do?”
“There’s no need to rub it in my face,” Mimi said. Then, “I want her to sneak a peek into the juvenile records to see if the prints pop up there. It’s the only real reason they’d be sealed.”
“Shoot the prints over to her. She’s at the bar. I’ll let her know they’re on the way.”
“You got it, handsome.” And then Mimi was gone.
“What was all that?” Virgil said.
“Mimi has prints but they come back as sealed on the federal database. Becky’s going to look at the Juvie records.” Then Murton sent Becky a quick text and told her to keep an eye out for the prints. When he looked back over at Virgil, Murton said, “What?”
“I was just thinking that if the prints are in the federal database, but they’re sealed, that means one of only two real scenarios. Either they’re for someone’s confidential informant, or they’re from the juvenile justice system.”
Murton put a deadpan stare on his face. “Uh, yeah, I basically just said that.”
“I know, but the juvenile justice system isn’t federal except for one specific group of people.”
Murton nodded. “I know.”
When Virgil and Murton arrived at the MCU facility, Mimi stuck her head in the conference room and asked if Becky had anything yet.
“Not that we’ve heard,” Murton said. “It shouldn’t take her too long though.”
“Did you get anything else from the delivery truck?” Virgil said.
“No, but the tissue samples from the tire iron match up with the victim. There’s no question whatsoever that whoever’s prints are on that wrench is the one who killed Boyd.”
“Okay, thanks, Mimi,” Murton said. “If you’re done with the truck, you might as well release it back to MedX.”
“Anything for you, sugar-britches,” Mimi said. Then she winked at Murton and left.
Virgil looked at his brother. “Sugar-britches? I’m thinking I might have to have a talk with her.”
Murton frowned at Virgil. “Ah, leave her be. She’s just playing. Besides, she’d see right through the jealousy on your part.”
“I’m not jealous,” Virgil said.
“Tell yourself whatever you have to if it gets you through your day.”
Virgil ignored his brother and made a call to Agent Martin. When she answered, he said, “We’re making progress on the death of Boyd, but it’s coming in bits and pieces. I still don’t have anything on the drugs.”
“Neither do I,” Martin said. “Keep me up.” Then she ended the call.
Virgil pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it.
Murton said, “What?”
“That Martin woman is sort of stiff. I mean, I know most feds are, but she’s a little abrupt. Either that or she doesn’t seem to like me for some reason.”
“It’s probably the latter,” Murton said.
Virgil didn’t get a chance to address Murton’s comments because his phone started to vibrate. He put it on speaker mode and said, “Hey Becks. You’re on speaker with me and Murt. What’s up?”
“Did Mimi tell you guys that she had an exact match on the tissue samples between the victim, Boyd, and the tire iron?”
“She did,” Murton said.
“The sealed file on the prints comes back to a Native American by the name of Chase Dakota. He was busted when he was in his early teens but it doesn’t say what for.” Then she corrected herself by saying, “I mean the information is there, I just can’t get at it.”
“That’s okay. Great work, Becks,” Virgil said. “Really great. What else do you have?”
“You mean other than the fact that I just handed you your murder suspect on a platter?”
Murton rubbed at his forehead. “I think what your dear brother-in-law was trying to ask in his ever so subtle way was have you looked into his background yet?”
“Just getting started,” Becky said. “Give me a few hours and I’ll have something.”
“Thanks, Becky,” Virgil said. “Nice job.”
Becky hung up on him.
Murton laughed and said, “Man, that’s starting to become a thing. I think you need to work on your people skills. I could give you some pointers if you like.”
“Nice try,” Virgil said. “We were on speaker. She hung up on you too.”
“Nope. It was your call and your phone. Besides, she already sent me a text. It says, and I quote, ‘I didn’t hang up on you. Only Jonesy.’” Then, “Come on, let’s head down to the bar and grab some lunch. Maybe by the time we’re done eating she’ll be able to point us somewhere.”
Chapter Fourteen
With Johnny Hawk and Chase Dakota acting as both supervisors and instructors, they worked with their new crew using four separate cooking stations they’d set up in the barn. By the time they were done with their first batch, they had plenty of finished product dried and ready for shipment.
“You sure you’ll be able to move this much up north?” Johnny asked Dakota.
Dakota didn’t hesitate. “Oh yeah, that won’t be a problem. It’ll be at wholesale prices, but I already talked to the guy, and he’s willing to take the whole batch, which is almost forty grand for us. And he said he’d take as much as we can get him.”
“When does he n
eed it?” Johnny asked.
“He said he’d take the first run as soon as possible. The cash is already waiting for us. All we have to do is deliver.”
Johnny bit into his lower lip. “That’s the part that makes me nervous. The transport. If you get pulled over, man…”
Dakota was nodding. “I know. But the risk is only half as bad as it sounds. He’s going to drive down and meet me at the halfway point. We’ve got a spot picked out, so it shouldn’t be too big of a deal.”
“Still.”
“I know,” Dakota said. “But don’t worry. I’ll be careful…watch my speed and all that. I’ll stay on the back roads all the way up.”
“Where are you meeting?”
“Right outside of some little town called Roseburg. It’s out in the middle of exactly nowhere. It’s his aunt’s place. Well, actually it’s his now. The aunt died a few years back and left him her trailer. He hasn’t done anything with it except pay the taxes. So we’re good.”
“And this guy is solid? He won’t try to rip you off or anything?”
“No, man, he’s good. Known him for years. Says he’s sick and tired of dealing with suppliers who never come through.”
“Well, he’s going to love us, then,” Johnny said.
“You got that right. Think you’ll have any problems keeping the line moving until I get back?”
“Shouldn’t,” Johnny said. “Half the guys are ready to go to bed, and the other half are ready to get started. Let’s load up. You going to take one of the shotguns…just in case?”
Dakota nodded. “I think I will. I don’t expect trouble from my guy, but if I get pulled over…”
Johnny nodded. “I hear ya. If you do get stopped, don’t hesitate. Shoot to kill and get on down the road.”
“Damn straight. C’mon, let’s pull the van around back and load up. Sooner I go, sooner I’ll be back.”
