“Okay, so we’re stuck with a biased judge but, hopefully, an unbiased jury. What else is wrong?”
“Rutherford’s attorney is Ruel Dubois. A real piece of work. He’s crooked as they come, but so smart he’s managed to keep his law license all these years. There isn’t a dirty pie in New Orleans that he doesn’t have his finger in. He grew up in Desire right alongside of Rutherford and Bennie The Finger, the guy looking for you.”
“Sweet Jesus, can it get any worse?”
“Yes, ma’am, it does get worse. They want to depose you — immediately.”
“A deposition?” Jeanette’s words came out as a croak, her throat so tight with fear. “Is that where I have to sit across from them and answer questions — face-to-face?”
“I don’t like it.” Tony grabbed the phone from Jeanette and yelled into it. “We aren’t going into New Orleans so they can grab her or follow us back here. And we aren’t letting them come here. Can’t you get them to do it by video-conferencing or something?”
“Tony, Louisiana civil procedure does not recognize video-conferencing for depositions. We’re still in the Dark Ages on that score. Besides, Ruel demanded a face-to-face deposition. Smart-ass bastard even spelled it out. Judge couldn’t do anything else even if he were receptive to arguments of safety for the witness — and he isn’t.”
“Tony. We have to do it.” Jeanette took the phone back from him. “Evan, can we go somewhere away from Manchac for the deposition? Like Slidell? We’ll have to figure out a way to get back home without them following us.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Evan spoke to someone behind him. “I’ve got my clerk with me, he’ll be looking into the case law on depos. I’m sure it is at the convenience of the witness, so we could have it in Slidell or Timbuktu, if we wanted.”
“Fine. I’ll let you work that all out with Tony. I have to tell you I’m scared of what they’ll ask.”
“Don’t be. The case we filed is only for medical malpractice and several counts of civil battery and reckless endangerment. I’ll go over potential questions with you. If they try to go fishing about what else you know, I’ll object. I’d love to see the judge order you to testify about non-relevant subjects. Talk about grounds for reversal and abuse of discretion.”
“Okay, Evan. I have to trust you on this.”
“You don’t sound too sure about that, Jeanette.”
Evan’s disappointment came over the phone loud and clear.
“It’s not you, Evan. It’s me. I’m just worried about Scott. About the effect that all this is having on my daughter and the people who care for me. I’ll be fine. You do what you have to do. I’ll help all I can. Rutherford is a monster, and he has to be stopped.”
“We’ll get him, Jeanette. Trust me.”
“I don’t have any other choice.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
October 22nd, New Orleans
Bennie had a problem.
Evan Devereaux had been playing it cagey. If the lawyer had an address or phone number for Jeanette LaFleur, he hadn’t put it anywhere Bennie or his plant in Devereaux’s office could find it.
Bennie’s men followed the lawyer everywhere. Devereaux led a boring life — work, home, work, home. When he ate out, he used public phones, rather than his cell. Bennie would bet his best Sig Sauer that the lawyer called Jeanette at those times. But the bastard never ate at the same place twice in a row. It was hard to rig a phone for a trace if you didn’t know which phone to bug. And Bennie damn well couldn’t rig all the public phones in town.
But Bennie’s problem was more than just the lawyer. He also had the beginnings of a much greater, and life-threatening, problem with Bry and his shark of a lawyer, Ruel Dubois. Dubois made Bennie’s blood run cold, and he prided himself on not being afraid of anybody. Dubois was an exception. Both men had been pressuring him for results. Bennie knew what had happened to the last man who hadn’t produced, ‘cause he’d taken care of the under-achiever for them.
Bennie didn’t intend to be gator bait like Matthews, but if he didn’t get a break on Jeanette LaFleur’s whereabouts soon, he knew he’d have to leave New Orleans to avoid the possibility.
One bit of insurance that just might save Bennie’s ass had panned out. He’d phoned Manuel Lopez to clue him in on what was really happening in New Orleans.
“Dr. Lopez, my name is Bennie St. James. I was hired by Byron Rutherford to handle some clean-up in this situation he has going on in New Orleans.”
Bennie held his breath. He wasn’t sure just how much Lopez knew or didn’t know. He was betting his life on not much.
“And what situation would that be, Senor St. James? I haven’t heard from my good friend for over a month.”
Bennie smiled. The man wasn’t playing with him. He heard the Latino’s teeth gnashing clear across the phone. So, old Bry was hiding things from his partner. Bad move on Bry’s part. Good move for old Bennie.
“The situation with Jeanette LaFleur, sir. I had to eliminate Eric Matthews, because he failed in his assignment to neutralize her.”
Lopez swore in fluent gutter Spanish, then yelled for someone named Javier to get on the extension.
“Senor St. James, are you on a secure phone?”
Lopez mumbled something to a man in the background. Bennie couldn’t quite catch all the Spanish words, but knew the man was cluing in this Javier.
“Yes, sir. Just call me Bennie.”
Bennie grinned. Maybe, just maybe, he could buy himself some protection from Bry’s partner. Bry made a big mistake not to clue his south-of-the-border buddy in on what was coming down — and an even bigger mistake in threatening Bennie.
“Bennie, my new security chief, Javier, is now on this call with us. Please fill us in — from the beginning, if you will. I think my old friend has neglected to keep me advised on his end of the business. Start with why you think Byron felt the need to… ah, neutralize the woman.”
Bennie had quickly brought Lopez and Javier up-to-date. He had even filled them in on his fears for his own continued good health.
“Thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Lopez mumbled a few words to Javier, then said, “I will be sending a man from my security force to assist you in your search for Senora LaFleur. No need to let Byron know; this is between us. My man will keep me apprised of the situation.”
“When will this man arrive and how will I know him?”
Bennie would be glad to get out of keeping Lopez up-to-date. Later, he could always claim ignorance if Bry came out on top. A man had to keep his options open.
“Give Javier your direction. My man will find you.”
“Sure, Doctor Lopez. I appreciate your help. I have to tell you, I was beginning to sweat it. Old Bry seems to be losing it.”
“No problem, amigo. As you say, Byron is not acting as smart as he thinks he is in regards to this matter of Senora LaFleur. Eric Matthews was a good man. I regret his loss.”
“Well, I hope you don’t hold it against me, sir. I was just following orders.”
A cold chill rippled down Bennie’s spine. Maybe he had made a mistake in calling Lopez. Just what had been the relationship between the doctor and Matthews?
“No. Any grudge I hold is against Byron. Do not concern yourself, Bennie. Someone will be in touch. Good-bye.”
Bennie once again shivered, recalling the tone of the last few minutes of his call to Lopez. Well, he couldn’t do anything about it now. If he’d opened a can of worms, he would just have to deal with things as they came. One thing for sure. He didn’t want to be in Bry’s shoes if this whole LaFleur thing blew up in his face. Lopez sounded like he would be a bad enemy.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
October 29th, San Jacinto fazenda
Scott sat and thought about the materials he and Rosalie had amassed over the last two weeks. They just might have enough to nail One World, Lopez and Rutherford for crimes against humanity and for drug smuggling.
Ju
lio’s fazenda in southern Pantanal was a goldmine of evidence that had panned out. It had taken three days of travel there, two days of snooping and recording victims’stories, then three days travel back.
It had been worth the trouble as far as their mission went. But they now had another problem. Their explanation that they’d responded to an emergency medical call from a village in the wilderness received only a lukewarm response by the One World chief of staff.
Rosalie feared they’d been outed as spies.
Scott felt the jury was still out on that issue.
“Rosalie, when anybody asks, blush,” Scott had advised earlier that day. “They’ll think we skipped camp for hot sex and are using the medical story to cover our asses.”
“I’ll try.” Rosalie blushed. “But I don’t lie very well. I think they already suspect.”
“Just keep your ears open. I’d like to get to that other outlying fazenda to get some pictures of the poppy fields. The one native we spoke to said they were harvesting this week.”
Scott glanced over at the radio which had a secret compartment for the secure, satellite phone. Maybe he should call his contact and tell them Rosalie and he were coming in. Sam, the native who’d taken them into the southern Pantanal, was willing for $500 US to take them to Brasilia. If they were lucky, it was possible that the DEA might be able to insert a team to pick them up somewhere along the Araguaia River in Goias province.
What was more worrisome was that the heavy rains of the wet season had started early; the formerly low marshy lands surrounding the San Jacinto camp were already swampy and getting more so every day. The longer they stayed, the more likely it would be that some of the rivers and tributaries would become treacherous with swift currents. Hidden dangers, masked by the higher waters, included predators looking for a quick and easy human snack.
Scott had no fears for himself, but he felt responsible for getting Rosalie, who was not so swamp-savvy, back to civilization in one piece. Traveling unknown waterways in the height of the wet season was for seasoned trekkers only.
Scott quit debating with himself and made the call.
———
“Mama?”
“Scott?”
“Hi, Mama. Can I speak to Jeannie, please?”
“She’s in Slidell with Tony. That lawyer fellow is getting her ready to give a deposition in that Barrios woman’s case.”
Scott frowned. “That’s awfully fast, isn’t it? Didn’t Evan just file the case?”
“Yeah. That Rutherford got himself a judge in his pocket and a junkyard dog of a lawyer.”
Scott swore, not caring that his mother would take him to task. But she surprised him.
“Yeah, son, that’s how we feel about it, too. You should’ve heard Tony yelling at Evan, and it wasn’t even Evan’s fault.”
“How’s Jeannie handling it? Is she scared?” Scott ached to be there for her. Leaving Brazil was more important than ever. It would take weeks to get to Brasilia. “When’s the trial? Surely, they couldn’t move the case that fast.”
“They surely did. The case is set for two months from today. Evan is trying to push off the deposition as long as possible. So if you have any evidence against Rutherford that could put his evil butt in jail, you need to be getting it here.”
“I’m leaving as soon as I can get transport out of here. It may take me a month, but I should be home well before the trial date. Tell Evan I have enough to get Rutherford for illegal body part trafficking. The DEA will have to decide if they have enough to get him for smuggling drugs.”
“That’s good to hear. I’ll tell Jeannie and Tony. They can tell Evan. Will you be able to contact us while you are traveling?”
“I don’t think so. The batteries on the satellite phone are fairly good, but the reception may not mesh with the satellite signals. I’ll try. If you don’t hear from me, just expect me at the trial. Okay?”
“Okay, son. God be with you.”
“You called home?”
Scott jumped and turned quickly. Rosalie had entered their hut without him hearing her. He’d been careless. Anybody could’ve been listening in to either of his conversations. Yes, it was definitely time to go, before another stupid lapse got them both killed.
“Yeah. The trial date has been set for two months from today. I say we get the hell out of this place before we are trapped by the weather. Or found out.”
Scott then noticed the serious — no, more like frightened — look on his partner’s face.
“What happened? Why do you look like you just lost your best friend?”
“One of the camp guards asked me why you and I were taping patients at the southern Pantanal camp.”
Rosalie sank onto the bed. All color had left her face, and she started to shiver.
Scott moved to the bed and pulled the coverlet up around the girl’s shoulders. Then he moved to the windows to check outside. He saw nothing other than the heavy rain. Most sensible people would be inside. Satisfied there was no one outside listening, he returned to Rosalie.
Sitting on the bed next to her, he gathered her close to him, trying to absorb some of her shivers. “What did you tell him?”
“I told him we were recording native mythology and songs. That we were planning on writing a book about the tribes of the Pantanal after we got back to the States.”
Scott grinned and gave her a quick hug. “Good story. Did he believe you?”
Rosalie stared up into Scott’s eyes. Hers were darkened with terror.
“No. He smiled and said that he didn’t care what we were doing, but that others were not so charitable, as he put it. He suggested we go away — for our health.”
Scott’s grin vanished as quickly as it had come. “Right then. I’ve already packed the records. Throw together some stuff in your backpack. We’ll leave now while the rain is the heaviest.”
“Where we will go?”
“We’ll steal a jeep and take it to Sam’s village. We have to hope he can get us out of here before they realize where we’ve gone.”
Rosalie shrugged off the blanket and began to pack her things. She turned to watch as he dialed the satellite up one more time.
“Who are you calling? The DEA?”
“No. My home. I have to let them know what’s going on. I already called our DEA contact earlier to let him know I thought we’d be leaving soon. He told me they can’t get anyone to us anywhere between here and Brasilia, but that they would have the consulate in Brasilia prepared for our arrival.”
“Great. This is what happened to Julio. They dropped him into this nest of snakes and then left him to get himself out.” Rosalie grasped her pack against her chest. “We’re not going to make it, are we?”
Scott held the phone to his ear and glanced over at the scared woman. “Hell yes, we’re gonna make it. I was a Marine, and we Marines never say die.”
He smiled at her for emphasis. Her lips turned up slightly and she bowed her head in acquiescence.
“Hello? Jeannie? You’re back!”
“Scott? Yes. I just got here. Mama Chloe said you called awhile ago. Is something wrong?”
Jeannie’s fear for him was palpable even over the phone.
“I just called to tell y’all, my partner and I are bugging out. Have Andrew Carter put some pressure on the DEA to come get us. Right now we’re out on a limb and the gators are snapping their jaws waiting for us to fall in.”
“Scott! Be careful. I want you home — we all want you home.”
“I want to be there, darlin’. Tell Mama I love her. Hug Little Bits for me. I love you, Jeannie.”
“I love you, Scott. Now get your butt home where you belong.” Jeannie’s sobs punctuated her words. “Don’t you dare die on me. We haven’t even started to live yet. You hear me?”
Scott closed his eyes in relief as tears streamed down his face.
“I hear you, love. I’m coming home. Bye.”
Scott turned. Rosalie stood ready and wa
iting for him. She smiled as she reached out and brushed a tear from his cheek.
“Your woman is finally ready for you?”
“Yes. Let’s get out of here. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to go home.”
———
Manchac, Louisiana
“Tony? Tell me I didn’t hear what I just thought I heard.”
Jeanette was so mad she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way. Underlying the anger was pure, unadulterated fear for Scott and his partner.
“You heard correctly.” Tony’s voice was harsh with unspoken outrage. “Scott and his partner are on their own until they get to Brasilia. And after they get there, there is a question of whether the Ambassador is on the payroll of One World.”
“Is this one of those Catch-22 situations?” Mama Chloe sat in her bent wood rocker, furiously rocking back and forth. “Is my boy gonna bust his ass getting to safety and then find that it ain’t safe?”
“That’s how it looks.”
Tony slammed his fist into the mahogany woodwork.
“We’ve got to do something.” Jeanette paced the small sitting room. “Call Andrew back. Maybe he knows someone in Washington who could get this Ambassador out of the way.”
“Hell, if I have to,” Tony growled. “I’ll get some of my men together and fly down to Brazil and camp outside of the Embassy until Scott gets there.”
“That’s what the Customs and DEA people should be doing.” Mama Chloe rocked faster. “What are we paying taxes for if our citizens can’t be safe when they get to their own embassy?”
No one answered. There wasn’t an answer.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Same day, One World Headquarters, Brasilia
“Dr. Lopez, we have a problem.”
Lopez looked up from the third quarter projections for the drug smuggling operations. He frowned. It must be a serious problem for Javier to interrupt him without knocking.
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