Secret Undertaking

by Mark de Castrique

  “Yes, but because we know he’s tied to her, why would he say he thinks she killed her husband? Why even go there?”

  Tommy Lee’s question stopped me. If Brookshire accused Janet, she’d only drag him down with her. And we hadn’t put any leverage on Brookshire yet. It wasn’t like he was copping a plea. “I don’t know. It’s something to think about.”

  “Here’s hoping your conversation with Buddy Smith sheds some light. If he identifies Luther, then his mea culpa about the affair is nothing more than an attempt to throw us off. But the timing of the affair is interesting.”

  I understood what the sheriff meant. “It started about the same time as Robert went to his father’s funeral and when Janet first sought to change the insurance policies. She wanted to keep Brookshire close. He was her WITSEC guardian.”

  “And the source of a new identity,” Tommy Lee added.

  “But if not Luther Brookshire, then who? We know she had to have an accomplice.”

  “Unless Robert really was hit by the Santonas.”

  “But that makes no sense with a planted gun and ledger.”

  “I know. I wanted you to have this information before you talk to Buddy Smith. Keep open the possibility that Luther is innocent of everything except being seduced.”

  We disconnected. I quickly ran through the scenes I’d constructed. If Janet hadn’t learned of the EBT investigation from Brookshire, would she have brought it up herself? It wasn’t common knowledge. A switch threw in my brain. A perspective shift projected the case from a whole new angle. The EBT scam wasn’t common knowledge. Sid Ferguson of the SBI and Lindsay Boyce of the FBI hadn’t been aware of it. That was odd because an FNS investigator was usually paired with one or the other as a case progressed.

  What had Collier Crockett said about his background? Chicago, New York, New Jersey. A tingle started in the back of my neck. Was Luther Brookshire the first person Janet Sinclair had seduced? Crockett had broken up rings in eastern North Carolina, but only the occasional single store in western North Carolina. He could have come across the Sinclair operation, but instead of busting it, he could have joined it. The network would have been protected. Even the ledger book from Robert’s SUV would have been handed back to Crockett. Or if Janet and Crockett went as far back as New Jersey, he could have set the whole thing up down here. Brookshire said Janet was the one who wanted WITSEC to locate her in the North Carolina mountains.

  I was only minutes away from Wilmer’s Convenience Corner. It was too late for me to get a photo of Crockett e-mailed to me. I had to meet Archie. I had to intercept Buddy Smith as he was closing the store. But I’d give him a verbal description of Crockett and maybe get a positive ID from a photograph later tonight.

  The other businesses near Wilmer’s had closed for the evening. The small grocery store was open but as I drew closer, the light on the gas pumps went out. It looked like Buddy might be closing a few minutes early. I drove by and then made a sharp turn into the lot out of sight of the front windows. Less than a minute later, Archie pulled his Lexus next to me headed in the opposite direction and we lowered our windows so we could talk without getting out.

  He gave me an okay sign. “I got here early, bought some gas, and then parked at a tire store one building over.”

  I handed him the folder with the death certificates. “There’s three in there. Wasn’t sure if she needed one for each policy.”

  He shook his head. “Just the one for the death claim, but good to have the extras. I guess she really is going to try to change the name from Sinclair to Santona. If I’d known they were crooks, I never would have suggested the whole plan.”

  “And we might never have known what was going on.”

  Archie sighed. “Yeah. That’s some comfort. Just so you know, there’s a little girl in the store. Looks like she’s doing her homework.”

  “I know. She’s the owner’s daughter. Thanks. I’ll check in with you later.”

  Archie hesitated. “You sure you don’t need me?”

  “It’s just a conversation. You go on to Asheville.”

  He raised his window, gave a wave through the glass, and eased back onto the two-lane highway.

  I slipped the Kimber pistol into the back holster, waited for an oncoming car to pass, and then stepped out of the jeep. I checked my phone to make sure it was still silent, and then opened the app I needed.

  Bells tinkled as I opened the store’s front door.

  “We’re closing in a few minutes.” Buddy Smith’s voice came from one of the aisles. He stepped into view, a broom in his hand. His face went pale when he saw me and he laid the broom against a display of Hostess snacks. His gaze went immediately to his daughter, who was writing in a notebook at the end of the checkout counter.

  I held my hands out, the folder in the right one. “I don’t want any trouble. I just want to talk and show you some pictures.”

  Buddy Smith held up his own hands as if to push me away. “No. I’ve been told not to talk to you.” He sidestepped around me and went to his daughter.

  The girl looked up from her homework, fear plainly visible in her eyes.

  Buddy put his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “You’re trying to muscle in, and we won’t be intimidated. Not anymore.”

  “That’s what you were told? I was muscling in?”

  “Yes. So get out and I won’t tell that you came back. It’s for your own good.”

  “I’m a deputy sheriff.”

  He eyed me skeptically. “Right. Then you’ll let Norie go.” He stepped back. “Leave your books, honey. Run up to the house. I’ll be there shortly.”

  The girl hesitated, clearly reluctant to leave her father.

  “Go!” he ordered.

  She scooted off the stool and hurried by me. The bells jangled and the door slammed. Buddy Smith moved closer to the cash register.

  “I’m with the Laurel County Sheriff’s Department. All I want is for you to look at these photographs.” I stepped toward him.

  His hand disappeared beneath the counter and then reappeared gripping an old, tarnished thirty-eight revolver.

  “Whoa,” I said softly. “There’s no need for that. I can show you my ID.”

  Buddy pulled back the hammer. “Keep your hands where I can see them.” His voice quivered and the gun shook. I hoped there was a lot of play in the trigger.

  “Whatever you say. But at least take a look at what’s in the folder. Why would I bring pictures if I meant to do you harm?”

  “Spread them out on the counter and then step back.”

  I did as he ordered. He looked at them in short glances, afraid to take his eyes off me for more than a few seconds.

  “Nope. I don’t recognize none of them.”

  His own facial reactions supported his words.

  “Then tell me this. Do you know a man named Collier Crockett?”

  Again, the blank stair.

  “He’s about forty. Black hair going gray at the edges. Sharp dresser.”

  His eyes widened slightly. “No. I don’t know no one by that name.”

  I nodded. “Fine. I’m done here. I didn’t mean to scare you or Norie. She’s a lovely girl.” I smiled. “My wife and I are having twins. I hope they’re as nice as she is.”

  Buddy Smith’s chin trembled and his eyes teared. He lowered the gun as the tension left his body.

  The door burst open, ripping one of the bells from its mounting. Sheer panic flared on Buddy’s face. I turned around.

  Little Norie stumbled into the store, her arm wrenched behind her back. A pistol was jammed against her temple. A pistol held by Collier Crockett.

  “Mr. Callahan, no!” Buddy wailed.

  “Set the gun down, Buddy.” The menace in Crockett’s voice curled my blood. He kicked the front door closed.

  Buddy uncocke
d the revolver and laid it on the counter. Norie whimpered.

  “Slide it to the far end,” Crockett ordered.

  Buddy complied.

  “I have to congratulate you, Buddy. You’ve caught yourself a real fish.” He turned to me. “And you, Deputy Clayton, you just couldn’t keep your nose out of my case, could you? That’s why I’ve been following you.”

  He moved the pistol away from Norie’s head and pointed it at me. “Buddy. Frisk him. Run your hands up each leg and check under his shoulders and his waist.”

  “There’s a gun in the small of my back.”

  Buddy pulled the Kimber from the holster and set it on the counter.

  “Frisk him anyway,” Crockett said.

  I spread my legs and held out my arms to make it easier.

  “It’s over, Crockett. We’ve found the bank accounts, we’ve got the money trail, we’ve got the evidence that you murdered Robert and then overdid it with the prints and placement of the pistol. Whose gun was that? Janet’s?”

  “She freaked out when Toby McKay went nuts. First killed Rufus and then Toby’s son.”

  “And if she went down, you’d go down. So, what are you going to do now? Kill us all?”

  Crockett didn’t answer. He looked at the photos on the counter. “What are those?”

  “Pictures. I was hoping Buddy could make an ID. He couldn’t. He didn’t give you up.”

  Crockett kept his grip on Norie’s arm and motioned with the pistol. “Hold them up one at a time, Buddy.”

  The store owner lifted Robert Sinclair’s photo, then Janet’s, followed by Brookshire’s.

  “What’s Brookshire doing with them?” Crockett asked.

  “We thought he might be part of it.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’s having an affair with Janet.”

  Crockett flinched like I’d slapped him. “He’s what?”

  “Having an affair. Do I need to spell it out? Janet wants to make sure she gets her new WITSEC identity. After all, everyone’s supposed to think the Santona family is after her. Then she and Brookshire will leave the country and catch up with the wired funds and the insurance money. I guess you’ll be left here holding the bag. And after you wired the money for her. I tell you there’s no justice, is there?”

  His eyes narrowed. “What insurance money?”

  “You mean you didn’t know about the million and a half dollars she’s walking away with since you so conveniently murdered her husband?”

  Crockett’s face turned nearly purple with rage. “You’re lying, you son of a bitch.”

  “Really? Didn’t she tell you she met with an insurance agent? Archie Donovan. That’s where she heard Sonny McKay was about to talk about your little EBT card fraud. That’s what set her off again, right?”

  Crockett’s jaw clenched. I knew I’d pushed the right buttons, but I’d overplayed my hand. He knew that I knew he’d been played for a fool. In a flash, I saw what was coming.

  My fear was confirmed when he said, “Bring me your revolver, Buddy.”

  “Don’t do it. He’s going to shoot me with your gun and then murder you and Norie with mine.”

  “Shut up.” Crockett moved the barrel of his semi-automatic back to Norie’s temple. “Bring it, Buddy. Hand it to me butt first and I’ll let your daughter go.”

  Buddy walked like he was about to collapse. He picked up the old revolver, holding the barrel in his left hand.

  “Daddy, don’t,” Norie whispered.

  Buddy’s face went hard. He grabbed the gun with his right hand. Crockett whipped his pistol from the girl’s head and aimed it at her father.

  The explosion was deafening. Not from the gun, but from the front door and wall exploding as a car smashed through it. Glass and splinters flew from broken windows and boards. Crockett spun around and fired shots indiscriminately into the windshield of the vehicle. Norie fell to the floor as I jumped for the Kimber and racked the slide just as Crockett wheeled back around. I fired three shots as fast as I could pull the trigger. The impact of the forty-five caliber slugs into Crockett’s chest drove him back like he’d been hit by a train.

  Dust hung in the air like fog. I ran to Crockett and kicked his pistol clear. His eyes were open, seeing nothing.

  I turned back to Buddy. He was kneeling, embracing his daughter in a smothering hug. Both were crying.

  I stepped over the debris to the driver’s side of a mangled Lexus. Archie Donovan fought through a deflated airbag and practically fell out of the car. He looked up with blood streaked across his face.

  “Archie, are you hit?”

  He coughed. “I fell across the seat after the airbag smacked me.” He looked up at the windshield. Bullet holes showed where Crockett’s shots had penetrated just above the steering wheel. “Sorry, Barry. I didn’t do what you told me.”

  I helped him to his feet and did the unthinkable.

  I hugged him.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Wilmer’s Convenience Corner looked like a war zone. Blue, red, and orange lights flashed from vehicles filling the parking lot and running along the highway’s shoulder for a hundred feet in either direction. EMTs, Buncombe County deputies, and firemen dotted the scene. Buddy Smith’s neighbors from the houses on the ridge behind the store stood on a perimeter the police had cordoned off. The murmur of their whispers was like a steady buzz of insects.

  Archie had had the presence of mind to call 911 before his crash and a horde of Buncombe County law enforcement quickly arrived on the scene. I’d raised Tommy Lee, who in turn contacted Lindsay Boyce. She and her FBI team were nearer and it seemed like no more than twenty minutes before she appeared, making it clear to the Buncombe County Sheriff that this was a federal investigation.

  Buddy Smith and Norie were together in the back of an ambulance. Both had suffered minor cuts and bruises from flying debris. Archie’s nose had swollen from the airbag’s impact and he had a gash on his forehead that required a few stitches. Miraculously, I was unscathed.

  Lindsay Boyce requested Tommy Lee, Archie, and me join her in her SUV for a briefing on what happened. She would speak with Buddy Smith and Norie after they’d been removed from the trauma of the scene.

  Lindsay and Tommy Lee sat in the front seats with Archie and me in the rear.

  “Okay, Barry,” Lindsay said. “walk us through what happened.”

  I opted to let my story be told directly. I retrieved my cell phone, opened the record app I’d started before entering the store, and we heard Crockett convict himself and Janet with his own words.

  “This is good,” Lindsay said when I stopped the recording with the sound of Archie’s car crashing through the store wall. “Really good.”

  “Yes,” Tommy Lee agreed. “But it would be better if we could get Janet Sinclair incriminating herself as well.”

  “Any ideas?” Lindsay asked.

  “Have the agents who are minding her said anything about this event?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Why?”

  “We get Crockett’s phone and see if he had any e-mail or text correspondence from Janet. If so, we contact her as Crockett. Arrange a meet. If she comes to him, we’ve further nailed down that they had a relationship. Maybe even have Archie drop off the insurance forms as originally planned. She might pick them up and try to give your agents the slip. I mean, she knows the Santona family didn’t kill Robert, so she’s got nothing to fear.”

  “Worth a shot,” Tommy Lee said.

  “I’ll check my agents,” Lindsay said. “If Janet doesn’t know, I’ll make sure she’s isolated from any news.” Lindsay twisted in her seat to face Archie who sat directly behind her. “Why did you stay?”

  Archie nervously wiped his palms on his pants. The magnitude of his action was beginning to sink in. Especially the bullet holes in the
driver’s side of the windshield.

  “I pulled out of the parking lot and about fifty feet down the road a car passed me going the other way. I wondered if the driver would think it suspicious if he saw Barry going into the store as it was closing. So, I slowed and checked the rearview mirror. The car kept going but then suddenly turned into the lot of the closed tire store. That’s where I’d been waiting for Barry. I pulled onto the shoulder and killed my lights. In a few minutes I saw a man walking near the gas pumps. A little girl ran out the front door of the grocery store and the man grabbed her. He dragged her inside. I turned my car around and eased back with the headlights off. I stopped out of sight of the front window and got out. I crept up beside the front door and could hear everything. You heard what Crockett said. It was clear to me he could start shooting at any time. I ran back to my car, made the 911 call, and then used the only weapon I had. My Lexus.”

  “That was quick thinking,” Lindsay said. “Are you still game for taking the insurance forms to the hotel?”

  Archie looked at me and shrugged. “Yeah, but what if she happens to come down to the lobby and I look like this?”

  “Just leave them at the front desk,” I said.

  “Okay, but there’s another problem?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I need a ride.”

  Archie rode to Asheville with me in the jeep. I’d placed a quick call to Susan to tell her I was okay and Archie did the same with his wife Gloria. We weren’t sure what names the news media might be mentioning, but we didn’t want our families worrying.

  Special Agent Lindsay Boyce had been assured by her agent at the hotel that Janet had no knowledge of the incident at the store. She was watching a movie on HBO. Lindsay had found a text message on Crockett’s phone that read,

  at 302 Renaissance.

  The number matched Janet’s hotel room and Lindsay verified that the sending cell phone belonged to Janet. It was the same number from which she’d contacted Archie. We would send the ruse message from Crockett’s phone after Archie delivered the forms to the front desk. Since she was expecting them, we didn’t want any delay to alarm her.