by Anne Hagan
“That’s exactly my point.” I pointed to the ADA and then to Moon, “Runners collect and pay. Moon only collected in place of a runner that used to do both. Business fell off at Ray’s when there was no more runner coming in.”
I continued, “Sterling, how many people did you collect from at Ray’s on average after Echo had been gone a while and there was no new runner?”
“A few...mostly those three guys but a couple of others. Not as many people as used to hit Echo up though.”
“And no one was bitching because you’d take their money when they lost but not pay them when they won? Was Shorty coming in and paying them like he paid you or JD when one of you took cash to him?”
“No, at least, not that I ever saw.”
I looked at the two attorneys and raised my eyebrows, “So, who paid everybody then? Maybe Mr. Moon is right. Maybe these three guys that don’t seem to have jobs, who can hang around in a bar every night and drop thousands on bets, are working for the bookie to generate business and they’re making the actual payouts or maybe it’s something else. Either way, I think Mr. Moon is onto something. They’re in it somehow.
###
Tuesday evening, September 2nd, 2014
The Boar’s Head Bar
I called Barb and told her I was putting a couple of undercovers in her bar for the evening to watch the female runner. I asked her to lay low and let ‘the girl’, as she called her, do her thing.
Priscilla might be young but I know she isn’t stupid. She’s streetwise enough to easily make a cop sitting in a not so busy bar on a Tuesday night. I pulled in a couple of my jailers that hadn’t graduated to patrol work yet to be my eyes and ears in there and I gave them explicit instructions. The male/female pair sat eating burgers and drinking cokes on the county dime while Priscilla conducted business several tables away.
When Priscilla put her notepad away just after 10:00 PM and got up to leave, one of my two patrol deputy wannabes let an unmarked waiting outside know she was headed their way.
My seasoned deputies in the unmarked were instructed to follow her but to keep a low profile since I was pretty sure I knew she’d be going to her brothers and I knew that a strange car in the area, even late on a summer work night, might be noticed. When she hit the turn off for the Chappell enclave and took it, her tail reported that as they drove past, confirming my suspicions.
I instructed my deputies to double back and to try and take up a position to watch the house. They managed to park and be in a location with decent observation sightlines just in time to see Shorty pull up and enter Stan Junior’s place too. The girl left while they were calling in Shorty’s plates. They didn’t follow her but, instead, continued to watch the house while trying not to draw any attention to themselves.
###
Dana stood in the deep shadows near the stairs leading up to Priscilla’s walk up. She shrank back and waited while the young woman let herself in and then kept still for a few minutes more until she was sure no one had followed her.
Texting from her cell, she sent the message, ‘It’s Dana. I’m outside.’ She mounted the stairs and started up them. The curtains over the window in the door parted and Priscilla peered out at her and then opened the door and let her in quickly.
“It’s going down. Mel doesn’t know I’m here. It doesn’t look like she had you followed but it’s probably best that you get out of dodge for a while until everyone is in custody.”
Priscilla, not looking surprised, simply nodded and stepped over to her entryway closet.
“Is there someplace you can go until your term is over?”
“Just between you and me, there’s an instructor with a condo near campus that I can stay with. He kinda has the hots for me; since I finished his class he’s hit on me constantly. We’ve gone out.” She rolled her eyes.
“Are you sure about staying there?”
“You gotta do what you’ve gotta do. I’ll get by for a month or so and then disappear as soon as I have my diploma in my hand. I’m not leaving the area without it. I worked to hard for it to give up with only six weeks to go.”
Chapter 26 – The Sting
Wednesday Afternoon, September 3rd, 2014
I requested a subpoena for the cell records for Stanley Chappell Jr. and a search warrant for his place. I got the warrant; getting the cell records would take a little longer.
Like Dana had done with her men watching Heath Chappell’s operation just a few months before, I had Stan Junior’s house in the Chappell enclave being watched from a tree line across distant fields. I also had Will Craycraft’s vehicle being watched by undercover officers at the elementary school where he taught.
I was frustrated sitting in my office waiting for someone to make a move but I didn’t want to be anywhere near the Chappell place right now. They all knew me well. Being made at this late stage that might finally tie up one, if not both of my murder cases, would be a disaster.
Finally, my eyes on the ground reported that three men arrived at Stan Junior’s home separately all around 1:00 in the afternoon. None matched the descriptions we had of Mick Cullen, Roger or their other buddy. Must be the enforcers.
My men were too far away to get all of the plate numbers but they made an effort and we were running what we’d gotten when they called in again. This time the report was that all three climbed into one car and left. They got that plate number.
After notifying the units at the school and at Craycraft’s place that a possible assault hit was imminent, I climbed into my county SUV and headed toward Will’s home. If it was going to go down, I was guessing it wouldn’t happen in a school yard. I hunkered down to wait several blocks away from the residence and, I hoped, out of everyone’s line of travel.
About 2:20, a call from my guys watching Stan Jr. came across my cell.
“Sheriff Crane.”
“New activity Sheriff. A metallic tan SUV pulled up. Two occupants entered the house. The driver fits a description we have. Got the plate this time; dispatch is running it.”
“Let me know as soon as you have a hit.”
My deputy interrupted me, “Sorry Sheriff. Another vehicle just pulled up to the scene; a blue sedan. Wait one.”
I waited and listened as his teammate called in another license plate. Dispatch reported the first one as a lease to a holding company out of Columbus.
“Okay Sheriff. Did you get that on the tan SUV?”
“Got it, a lease to a corporation.”
“Right. They’re running the sedan now.”
“I’ve got a feeling the assault will go down when school lets out and the mark goes home. Keep your eyes peeled there but be prepared to roll on my command when that hit’s the fan. We’ll do it all at once and hopefully have the element of surprise.”
I was torn about where to go. I didn’t want to be made in the Chappell enclave but I felt like what was going to go down there once the warrant was executed, especially if we could catch the three pool players inside, was more important to my case than the three enforcers. I knew one or more of the enforcers were likely responsible for the injuries that led to JD’s death, but to pin it on any of them without proof, I needed to get the guy that ordered the job. Taking down his entire operation and getting the guys who shot at Moon would just be icing on the cake.
My decision was nearly made for me. School was out and the report came across that Will Craycraft left shortly after the last kids were out of the building. My unmarked unit was following him and all indications were that he was headed straight home. I hunkered down to wait.
A deputy pretending to run a speed trap called in a visual of the enforcer’s vehicle heading our way. When it turned up in Craycraft’s neighborhood and parked down the block, the radio report of that set me in motion.
Treadway is here and he’s the scene commander. He’s one of my best deputies. I don’t need to be here. I fired up my SUV and rolled out of the neighborhood as quickly as I could. A couple of minutes lat
er, Treadway reported the scene secure and three men in custody. He and another deputy would transport them to the county jail. He’d directed two others to Priscilla’s residence to take her into custody.
Adrenaline rushing, I pumped my fist in the air. A minute later, I was on the county road out of town. I floored it and ran lights and sirens the 13 miles to The Boar’s Head covering the distance in ten minutes or so that felt like an hour. Slowing there and shutting down the siren, I rallied the troops.
My deputies in the field were rolling toward the house on a circuitous route down a cow path. Before they left their watch position, they reported no movement to leave it by any of the occupants. My men staged at the Morelville turnoff were gearing up too. Shane Harding was staged in the lot at Barb’s bar. He fell in behind me as I passed. Seven of us in four vehicles would converge on Stan Junior’s home in minutes.
I rolled to a stop at the base of the driveway, blocking the cars that were parked in it from backing out unless they used the lawn as a getaway. Shane blocked a vehicle parked right next to the curb in front of the house.
We all dismounted and three of us hastily converged on the front door while the other four split into teams of two and headed down the sides of the house, toward the back.
Yelling, “Police! Search warrant!” I tried the main door. Conveniently, it wasn’t locked. Even after all the legal turmoil they’d been through, the Chappell’s were still a trusting bunch.
I swung it wide open and we piled through it into an open foyer off of a sunken living room decorated with the pizza boxes and beer bottles typical of a lot of single young men’s dwelling places. The first thought through my swirling mind at that first glimpse was nailing Stan Junior for underage drinking too.
Two of the four men we knew were in the house, Roger Rowe and the third pool player the running his license plate had revealed to be Tim Bettis, were lounging on the sofa in the living room, watching television. One made a halfhearted attempt to rise but I waved him down with my service weapon and ordered them both cuffed.
They protested wildly at that as I headed, gun leading, through a partially closed door, just past the entry, to the right. Two of the four deputies that rounded the house to the back came through the home to meet up with me as I entered the room.
Mick Cullen was seated behind a desk loaded down with electronics. He’d drawn a gun and had it leveled at me.
“Don’t be stupid! Drop it” Shane and the two deputies pushed into the room. Mick dropped the weapon but I still had a bead on his head until two of them got to him. In the commotion, Stan Jr. who’d been standing to one side of the desk, wet himself out of fear as he raised his hands toward the ceiling. Chappell’s just aren’t cut out to be criminals...
Chapter 27 – Hitched
Thursday Evening, September 4th, 2014
I was tied up with suspect interrogations and with doing paperwork well into Wednesday evening and all day Thursday. Young Stan Jr. sang like a canary implicating Mick Cullen and his crew as the ultimate backers of the whole bookie operation. It was still unclear who’d ordered the assault hit on JD but, since Mick and the other two men weren’t there when the enforcers were sent out to work over Will Craycraft at his home, the DA was leaning hard on Junior to talk or face a murder rap for the guys that did his dirty work.
Sterling Moon, still hospitalized, picked Mick out of a photo lineup as the shooter and Roger Rowe as the driver the day he was shot. Mick was an Irish national in the U.S. on a tourist visa. I didn’t know if we’d be able to pin him with anything based only on Moon’s word but the D.A. would aim for immediate deportation if things didn’t shake out within a couple of weeks. Roger wasn’t talking yet, but given time, he might. Regardless, we had enough on Stan Junior and the other two Americans to put the three of them away for several years on illegal gambling operation charges alone.
While all of that was going on, the Columbus Crime Lab was working on all the computers, cell phones and documentary evidence we’d seized in the raid. It might be weeks before we had a handle on the whole bookmaking operation. In the meantime, everyone was being held in the county lockup without bail. Everyone but Priscilla Chappell, that is.
My deputies that Joe Treadway had sent for Priscilla had found her door unlocked. On entry to her place, they noted that she was not at home and her closets had been cleaned out. Her car was missing too. She was gone. I was sure Dana had something to do with that but I didn’t ask and she didn’t volunteer any information. I just left it alone.
My head just spun with it all. When I finally got home Thursday evening, Dana and I had a quick, private chat and agreed to leave for McKeesport first thing in the morning.
Trundling upstairs, bone tired, all I wanted to think about was a quick shower and bed. Dana had apparently had other ideas. There was a Kohl’s suit bag lying across my bed. I unzipped it carefully and peered inside. I found black slacks, a starched stiff tuxedo shirt and a black tuxedo vest to match. Everything was in my size. How did she do this?
“You look puzzled.” Kris was standing in my doorway.
I pointed at the clothes, “You?”
She nodded, “Well, I helped with sizing and carrying and all but Dana picked the outfit. You’re going to look very nice for your big day.”
“Did she...are you...coming?”
“Mel, you know I would but I can’t. It’s too short of notice. When Lance gets off work tomorrow, we’re leaving for Toledo. His grandfather will be 80 Saturday. He’s in a nursing home up there and, I guess, not well. They’re having a family birthday party for him there as kind of a last hurrah. I haven’t met most of the people who will be there so it’s a good chance to do it before the craziness of our wedding.”
“It’s okay. I understand.”
“Mom and dad are keeping the kids. There’s some pony pull dad is all fired up about.”
“I really wish he’d take it easy.”
“You know he won’t.” Kris crossed the threshold, came to me and enveloped me in a hug. “I love you Mel. Congratulations.”
“I love you too.”
###
Friday, September 5th, 2014
Even though we’d planned a small, quiet ceremony, Dana’s mother had insisted on making us a huge cake.
“Mom,” Dana protested, “there’s just us here, we’re never going to be able to eat all that.”
“I know, but we can put the extra in the freezer for later. You deserve a nice wedding cake.”
I looked down at the cake. It was obvious that her mother had spent a significant amount of time on it. She’d originally said she was just making a small layer cake, but it had turned into a giant sheet cake with probably a gallon of white icing expertly applied to it. Well, probably not a gallon, but enough to spike anyone’s insulin level.
“It’s really pretty Chloe.”
“I’m glad you like it. You should two should go get dressed, everyone will be here soon.”
“I’ll do that,” Dana told her and, with a wink at me, she was off, upstairs somewhere. I slipped into the half bath on the main floor to do my own minor transformation into the wedding duds Dana had bought for me on the sly and to put on just a little of the cologne she seemed to love for me to wear.
Finished, I went back into the living room to wait with a neatly dressed Marco. We both watched in quiet humor as Chloe bustled in and out fretting about this and that. “This is what my mom will be like next month for my sister’s wedding.” Marco just shook his head. We both turned at the same time when we heard a footfall at the top of the stairs.
Dana descended; a vision is a royal blue dress. Seeing us staring at her, when she reached the bottom, she did a slow pirouette in shoes she probably shouldn’t have been wearing given her medical condition. I decided not to point that out since it was our wedding day.
“You look amazing!”
“Thank you.” She smiled a million watt smile as she walked over to me and bused me on the forehead wit
h her lips. Taking a seat beside me she said, “The boys and the JP ought to be here any time now.”
The Justice of the Peace was the first to knock on the door. Dana let him in, and brought him into the living room. “My brothers and their families should be here shortly,” she told him. At least, I hope they’re not late.”
They didn’t disappoint her; both brothers, their spouses and Nick’s daughter were on the doorstep moments later.
Everyone gathered in the Rossi living room and things got under way quickly. Dana and I stood facing each other by the fireplace. The Justice of the Peace began to speak, “We are gathered here today in the sight of these witnesses, to join Melissa and Dana in marriage. Join hands please.”
I reached out and took Dana’s hands in mine.
“Melissa, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” I said as firmly as I could muster.
“Dana, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
“I do,” Dana said.
“Melissa, do you solemnly vow to uphold this contract of marriage for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health until death do you part?”
“I do.”
“Dana, do you solemnly vow to uphold this contract of marriage for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health until death do you part?”
“I do,” Dana said, smiling at me.
“Could we have the rings please?” The Justice of the Peace asked.
Vince moved forward and handed the rings I’d given him to hold to the Justice. The Justice handed Dana’s ring to me.
“These rings are a token of your love and commitment for each other.”
We exchanged the rings, then I looked back at the JP expectantly.
“By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you married and you may kiss the bride.”
Dana looked up at me and grinned. I smiled back at her, then leaned down and kissed her long and hard. Everyone clapped and cheered.
