“In your file, it said the FBI had the tape from the bank. They had to miss something.” I tapped my finger on the table. “I have to get in there.”
My mind rewound to the time I had gone with Johnny Delgato to the FBI headquarters in Louisville. It wasn’t like it was hard to get around and I could definitely use some fast-talking and southern charm to get in. The rest, I’d have to wing it.
“I know you can do it and you have a plan, but I’m worried you are going to put yourself in more danger.” The corners of Willie’s eyes dipped.
“I’m fine,” I assured him, trying to ignore Trixie and Curly’s war of words over top of us. I grabbed the keys and put them back in my purse. “Let’s go.”
“My pleasure.” Trixie walked over to Willie and kissed his head. “Laurel will figure this out.”
Curly grabbed Willie around the neck from the other direction nearly knocking him out of his chair. “Yes she will.”
I was glad they were so confident, but I was getting in deeper and deeper and with the big boys. I wasn’t sure how far my petty skills would take me, but I knew I needed to come up with a plan between now and tomorrow morning.
Chapter Nineteen
Trixie had fallen fast asleep, snoring in the passenger side of the Old Girl before we had gotten home from Curly’s last night. It took me several hours to quiet my mind and get a couple hours shut eye. My mind had to be in tip top form if I was going to try to get in the FBI and snag a copy of the tape.
I put on a pair of black pants and a white blouse. I had noticed the last time I was at the FBI offices, the employees wore basic black or blue in the office area. I had gotten my fake FBI badge out of my drawer and stuck it in my hobo bag. My eyes glided over to my phone on the dresser. If I took out the SIM card and the battery, he wouldn’t be able to track me and I’d have my phone if I needed it. I wasn’t sure what was up Jax’s sleeve and I didn’t want him to track me and see what I was doing today. When I got back to Walnut Grove, I’d be sure to pick up Henrietta before I took Sharon Fasa to her daily appointment wherever that was.
Trixie and Henrietta were in the kitchen with the small TV turned on the news. The reporter was reporting live from the edge of Walnut Grove, cameras focused on a checkpoint.
“They have Walnut Grove cordoned off from the rest of the world.” Trixie took a bite of her burnt toast sending crumbs down her blue tee. Henrietta licked them off her.
I picked up Henrietta and rubbed down her back while I watched the broadcast. Eric was being interviewed. I groaned at his arrogance and put Henrietta down, swiping the cat hair off my clothes.
“I’m out of here.” I grabbed a piece of the burnt toast out of the toaster. I kissed Trixie on the head. “Be sure to keep the doors locked and remember to call Derek if the alarms sound.”
In the back of my head, I knew Johnny wasn’t going to do anything yet. In the past, he would have tried to get in touch with me several times before his threats became action. I just had to sit and wait until I heard from him or one of his minions on the outside. No doubt I was going to hear from him, but when?
Unfortunately, I had bigger fish to fry today.
I jumped in the Old Girl and headed back into town taking a right on First Street, parking right in front of Jax’s building. There were several dark cars, consistent with unmarked cop cars, lining the streets of Walnut Grove.
“Good morning,” I said and headed straight for Jax who was behind his desk. “I wanted to stop by and tell you nothing happened last night with the cameras and alarms.”
“Why where you at Curly Dean’s last night?” Eric sat on the edge of his desk. A glass coffee cup in his hand. He tugged on his pants at the knee; settling in the position, he got comfortable.
“Are you following me now?” I quipped.
“You two stop.” Jax sounded exhausted.
“I’ve noticed small town folks like to stick together.” Eric lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. The steam rolled up and around his eyes. They bore into me. “You never know who is helping a good ole boy from around here. Can you, Jax?”
“I’m telling you. Laurel and Trixie visit people all the time.” Jax looked at me. “Do you want a cup of coffee?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“You look nice.” Eric’s head tilted, his eyes lowered. “Where are you off to this morning? Taking someone to the doctor with your little Drive Me app? Or taking your cat for a walk on her leash?”
“You are such an asshole,” I spit, rolling my eyes. “Obviously you aren’t good at your job or you’d have Willie Ray Bowman in custody by now.”
Eric popped his cup on Jax’s desk and stood up. Fire was in his eyes.
“You listen to me you petty criminal.” He got nose to nose with me.
“Wow, no wonder you are so angry.” I cackled. “You are my height. Little man syndrome much?”
Jax laughed. “Man, she can hold her own.”
Eric grabbed the ringing phone off his hip.
“Eric here,” he answered. “Yeah. Where? Now?” He nodded for Jax to come on.
Jax grabbed his keys.
“It must be something about Willie. Lock up.” Jax and Eric bolted.
Panic welled in my throat when I saw the urgency in Eric. Did someone find Willie? Was he careless and got caught? My stomach clenched tight. My throat dried.
I walked next door to Dean’s Florist and tapped on the window. Curly looked up from the fresh-cut bouquet she was working on. There were several customers picking out different colored mums.
Our eyes met. Slightly she nodded and picked up the phone. It was our little way of communicating about Jax and Eric. She knew to call Willie and tell him to be careful and lie low.
I went back into Jackson PI, trying to decide what I needed to do. It wasn’t like I could run out to the Deans’ farm and warn Willie, just in case that was where Eric and Jax were going. Curly was taking care of it; which made me feel somewhat better.
“God, I need coffee.” I glanced down at Eric’s coffee cup. “Gross,” I groaned when I saw smudged chocolate fingerprints around it. “Not gross.” I eyed the prints with excitement.
The FBI headquarters in Louisville was easy to walk into; it was the extra fun rooms that required the key cards or the fingerprint machine. Supposedly all headquarters had all the agents’ prints on file and they could roam freely into any area of the buildings all over the world.
I didn’t know how much time I had, but I knew Jax had all the equipment to lift a fingerprint off the mug.
The closet next to the equipment closet was filled with dusting powders and all sorts of concoctions Jax used in his PI cases. The Cyanoacrylate was located on the top shelf in the back. The solutions gassed out and reacted with the fat residue to a solid, white substance. It was exactly what I needed to help duplicate Eric’s fingerprint so I could get around freely in the FBI headquarters.
I grabbed the bottle and tucked it in my elbow; opening the equipment closet, I grabbed a digital camera. I needed an exact image of Eric’s fingerprint. I needed to make a mold of it and the easiest way was to print the image on a transparency slide using Jax’s laser printer. The toner in the copy formed a good print to help make a dummy print.
Quickly I worked, making sure I was doing the steps I knew to make a good dummy print. Time wasn’t on my side and I had one shot to get this right. Even if they did get Willie in custody, I could still prove he didn’t do it.
I went back to the chemical closet and grabbed some wood glue and glycerin. Using the mixture, I coated the dummy copy with a thin layer of the compound.
While I let it dry, I grabbed the theatrical glue from the closet and stuck it in my hobo bag along with a pair of scissors. I grabbed the dummy print, careful not to smudge it and locked Jax’s office door behind me.
The fingerprint would be perfectly dry by the time I got to Louisville and I’d be able to use the theatrical glue to adhere Eric’s fingerprint over top mi
ne. Voilà. There wasn’t a better way to get a new identity.
“Can I help you?” The FBI agent at the checkpoint asked after he stopped me on I-25 on the way out of town heading toward Louisville.
“I’m going shopping.” I smiled. My voice dripped with Southern charm.
He walked around the car looking in the windows. He tapped the trunk.
“We need to check the trunk.” He came back up to my window. “I’m not sure if you know, but we feel there is a criminal, a dangerous and armed criminal, in the area. We are checking all cars in and out of Walnut Grove.” He smiled.
“Of course.” I turned the car off and got out. “My momma and I heard all about it.” I put my hand up to my chest. “We hope you find him soon.”
“We do too, ma’am.” He looked into the trunk when I popped it open. Another agent used a long stick with a mirror on it to look underneath my car. They nodded at each other. “Have a good day. Don’t spend too much money.”
“Oh thank you.” My shoulders raised in excitement. “There is a sale going on at the mall. When I come back, my trunk will be filled with packages.”
He laughed. I jumped in the Old Girl, turned her on and headed on out of town. Not glancing back once.
The quicker I got to Louisville and into FBI headquarters, the better. My nerves were shot and I needed to get to the bottom of this.
The large reception area was the same as I had remembered with the leather chair and the glass staircase off to the left.
“Can I help you?” the agent behind the desk asked. “Say, aren’t you the same girl who came in here a few months ago asking for Mike Florenza?”
“I am.” Shit! I didn’t figure on seeing him again.
“I’m Dale Buchannan. We weren’t properly introduced last time.” He smiled. “I heard you’ve been working with Jax Jackson down in Walnut Grove on some of his PI cases.”
“Yeah. That’s right.” I nodded, seeing this as my in. “He asked me to come up and talk to Agent,” I brushed my hair behind my ear and mumbled a name, “who’s on the case of Willie Ray Bowman.”
“I heard that shit was going down. And I hope they catch the motherfucker.” He put his hands in the air. “Excuse my language. But you know, he killed one of us.”
“Yeah. Asshole.” I sounded all big and bad, playing the game.
“You can head on up the stairs and take the first conference room on the right since he must be expecting you.” Dale pointed to the glass steps.
“See ya.” I darted up the steps in my heels before he could stop me.
“I didn’t catch your name,” Dale called after, but I ignored him.
There was no way I was going to stop in the room on the right, instead I headed to the ladies room and directly into the stall. I hung the hobo bag on the hook on the stall door and dug through for the fingerprint, scissors and theatrical glue. The fake FBI badge caught my finger and I pulled it out, clipping it on the band of my pants.
The sound of two sets of heels walked into the bathroom. I stood as still as I could, hoping they weren’t in there looking for me. The water faucet at the sink turned on.
“I still can’t believe after all of these years they still haven’t gotten to the bottom of the Bowman case,” a woman said. “I’m so sick of reviewing those damn tapes.”
“Especially now. Since he escaped, they are breathing down our necks to see who his accomplice was.” the other woman said.
I moved my head side to side to see if I could get a view from the stall door crack.
Both of them had on a navy blue blazer and slacks. One had on a pair of leopard print heels I would have died to get my hands on, while the other had on the boring natural colored heels. The fun leopard woman had her hair in a low ponytail, while natural and boring had hers pulled up into a tight bun on the top of her head.
“If Bowman was giving bribes to the FBI agents who were undercover in the sting, he isn’t going to tell who,” Leopard said.
“Someone told me some of the agents believe the undercover agent who was found dead was working with Bowman. They believe the agent told Bowman the agency was on to him and his bribes.” Natural ran the palm of her hand over her slicked hair. “Truthfully, I think Bowman had nothing to do with it.”
“Get out,” Leopard gushed.
“Seriously.” Natural leaned in. She whispered, “Think about it. Bowman was at the wrong place at the wrong time. He passed the initial lie detector test about why he was at the bank. Yeah, I get he was a petty thief, but look at his eyes.”
“His mug shot makes me horny just looking at it.” Leopard bit her bottom lip. “I wonder who the lucky lady was from his statement?”
“Shit, you’ve always liked the bad boys.” Natural snickered. “You know.” She looked in the mirror at herself. She ran her lipstick around her lips. “They never found out who the girl was.” Her perfectly manicured brow cocked when she looked at Leopard. “Maybe she’s the missing piece to all this.”
I sucked in air and listened to them talk about me.
“I wonder if she was the mastermind around the robbery and that’s how he was able to beat the questions on the lie detector.” Natural had it all wrong.
“We should go ask Sarge if they ever found out who the fiancée was because I can tell you,” Leopard looked at herself one last time in the mirror. “There is nothing about her in the file. Nothing about a girlfriend. Nothing.”
“It’s worth looking into.” Natural added, “Let’s leave the tapes and go grab a coffee before we tell Sarge our theory.”
Some theory. What kind of FBI training did they get? I glared through the crack.
“I was watching them in the media room.” Leopard pulled down a paper towel and ripped it off the roll. She dried her hands and threw it in the trash. “No one is going to be in there so the tapes will be fine.”
Media room. Mentally I tried to recall if I had seen a sign on any of the doors that said Media Room, but I couldn’t recall. My adrenaline was pumping so fast, I was on a spinning rollercoaster.
The two of them walked out of the bathroom. Quickly I got Eric’s thumbprint out and cut it to fit the tip of my finger.
“Fiancée,” I spit. “Helping him out. Mastermind? Are they crazy?” I asked while smearing the theatrical glue on the tip of my right pointer finger.
I sat on the toilet and carefully stuck the fingerprint duplicate on top the glue on my finger. A steady stream of air came out of my mouth and blew the glue dry.
I slipped out of the bathroom when I saw the coast was clear. I straightened my shoulders and presented a very confident attitude. I kept my eyes straight, darting them to the side to get a good look at the nameplates on the doors.
“Afternoon.” A man nodded with a stern face as we passed in the hall.
Eye contact but nothing more. I reminded myself not to smile. Be one with the people here.
The reason I was so good at being a petty criminal was the fact I could blend in anywhere. I was neither the prettiest girl nor was I the ugliest. I wasn’t the thinnest or the heaviest. I was normal. Blend in normal. My eyes, well, they were a different story and people always remembered my eyes. Not many people had grey eyes. Still, I blended in pretty good when I needed to.
Quickly I moved my way around the halls until I came to the Media Room.
“Here goes nothing,” I gulped when I saw there were two ways to enter.
Using your badge and using your fingerprint. Hopefully it was one or the other because I didn’t plan on counterfeiting a badge.
“I knew you were one to be reckoned with the day I met you. I should kick my own ass for letting you in on where you came from.” Ben Bassman spat under his breath next to me. “I have people who take care of this kind of stuff.”
“What do you mean people?” I asked in surprise.
“Let’s just say people and leave it at that. The less you know, the better.” Ben was telling me in code he had illegal dealings within the FBI
.
He swiped a card and put his fat finger on the fingerprint scanner.
“How did you know I was here?” I asked when he shoved me through the door by my elbow.
“I said I got people.” There was an odd twinge of disappointment on his round face. The shadow of his round hat covered his eyes. He flung the edges of his long black coat around him. “You cannot be sneaking around anymore.”
“Anymore?” I questioned.
“You are not the same little orphan girl you were a few months ago. You have an identity and are known.” Ben Bassman stalked over to the video monitors and hit a bunch of buttons. “You’re lucky I am as savvy as you are with counterfeiting stuff.” He held his fake badge in the air.
On the giant screen in front of us, Willie Ray Bowman walked into the bank.
“Wait.” I stopped and turned back to Ben. “Are you telling me you have people watching me?”
He pushed another button. Willie and the teller stood frozen at the entrance of the safety deposit vault.
“Laurel,” Ben’s eyes slid to mine. “You are the granddaughter of the ultimate mob boss. He wasn’t a nice man. He was a killer, a thief, a womanizer, and some other unpopular things that you should never know of. Now that you know who you are, the stakes are even higher you are going to be killed. Many people know you exist. They don’t know where you live.” His next word chilled me to the bone. “Yet.”
“How did you know I was here?” I demanded to know.
“Are you going to get the information you came for or not?” Ben stuck a thumb drive in the correct spot, hit a few buttons.
The video fast-forwarded. There was a bump. A very visible bump.
“Run that back.” I pointed to the screen. “To where he is standing in the door with the teller before they go in.”
Ben ran it back. The video played out. The scene was not good. Clearly you see Willie walk in. There was only one man in the room and the report stated there were two. There was a scuffle. The teller went down, and then the other man. Willie stumbled and fell to the ground. The next scene played out like Willie had told me. The police rushed in. Eric rushed in. He was the first one to grab Willie. Willie’s hand slipped out next to him and I knew what was under his palm. The keys. The safety deposit box that had held the key in question was on the floor. Willie Ray made a swift move of his hands, going to his mouth and then sticking them up in the air with Eric’s gun pointed at Willie’s chest. That was the moment Willie swallowed the keys like he said.
Checkered Past (A Laurel London Mystery Book 2) Page 14
