by John Foxjohn
“I’ve talked to Beeker already and he and I both believe you handled things as a professional.”
He hesitated for a long moment, not sure what to say next. He stood and paced the room for a moment before sitting. “I have a question I need to ask you. Do you want to remain as my second in command?”
Melissa glanced up, but dropped her gaze, and said in a small voice, “Do you want me to remain in my position?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I would like to, yes.”
“Then look at me.”
When she looked up, David leaned forward. “This has nothing to do with a woman in charge of an operation. Anyone, man or woman, has to realize that things don’t always go the way we want them to. We need to make the best decisions that we possibly can and not hesitate in making them or acting on them. Sometimes we only have a fraction of a second. That’s all.
“What we decide determines at times whether someone dies, and that someone can be close to you, or a scumbag like Whistlam.”
David took a drink of coffee and let his words set in before he continued. “Sometimes we make mistakes that we have to live with. In this case, you made no mistakes and someone died anyway. That is not only the nature of this business, but one of the toughest problems with being in charge. Some can handle it and some can’t.”
Melissa raised her head for the first time, looking David in the eye. “Do you think I can handle this job?”
He smiled. “I believed it when I asked for you, and nothing has happened to change my opinion.”
After Melissa cleaned her face, David called the others to come to his room. While he waited, he thumbed through a copy of each one’s personnel file he kept in his brief case, and he’d been right, none were from Texas or had worked in Texas before this trip. He sucked in a large gulp of air and rubbed his face. He needed to find out how information privileged only to his team members came into the people’s hands that alerted Whistlam.
As far as he could tell, Whistlam had encountered law enforcement many times, but never for federal crimes. Of course, one or more people were above the small town thug, and information wasn’t going straight to him, but from someone else. That person could be the one who had federal contacts.
When the others arrived, David skimmed the sheriff’s department work logs.
He set them down and rubbed his eyes. “From what I have heard and people have said, this team worked well together. As far as Director Beeker and I are concerned, the team acted within legal bounds. The deadly force used was legal and necessary.”
David stood and looked out the window for several minutes, debating whether to talk to them about the leak, but at last, he decided against it for now. He had concerns more important at the moment.
He asked Morgan what had happened in the back of the trailer.
Morgan didn’t look up from staring at the carpet. “I went to the back and took cover behind a pine tree.” He hesitated and took a deep breath.
Moments passed before he continued. David sipped his cold coffee.
“Melvin and John got into position and I decided to move to a large oak tree closer to the door. I was half way to the tree when the door slammed open and Whistlam ran out.”
David nodded. “Could you tell it was Whistlam?”
Morgan nodded several times. “No doubt about it. I turned to get behind cover but tripped over something in the yard. Either John or Melvin yelled, ‘FBI, freeze.”
“Th—that w—was me.”
“Whistlam ran straight toward me as I tried to get my gun out. He stood over me and raised his gun when Melvin fired twice, hitting him both times.”
David turned and nodded to John and Melvin. “Good job.”
“Melissa didn’t do anything wrong,” Andy blurted out, the first words he’d spoke since he came into the room.
CHAPTER 25
David tapped on his lips for a long moment, wondering if Andy was getting a case on Melissa and if he should talk to him about it. After a minute of thought, he decided against that. “I know. None of you did anything wrong. This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to get some rest tonight. It has been a long day. I do mean to get some rest because tomorrow, we go to work.”
David stood and paced the room for several minutes. At last he turned, “Things are going to get worse here before they get better. I’ll explain tomorrow what I came up with on my trip to Houston.” He clapped is hands like a coach sending his team to the locker room. “Take off.”
When the team left, David called Beth. Lonely, he needed someone to talk to even if she was a hundred miles away.
He and Beth talked for a couple of hours. He told her what was going on, and listened while she gave her opinions, which he valued. She also told him she’d found a house in the Spring area.
After he hung up, he put his coat on and decided he needed a walk. Cold wind blasted him in the face when he strode down the steps. He wished he’d put his overcoat on, too. He didn’t know where he headed, but strolled toward Highway 59.
Cars whipped by and David jammed his hands in his pockets, head bowed against water mist from the highway traffic. Aromas of hamburgers and fries swam across the moist night air, a siren wailed in the distance, but came closer, and a minute later, a patrol car whipped by with lights and sirens going.
David turned right and headed toward the loop. Another police car screeched past, heading toward town. It dawned on him that he walked the same path Justin drove the night the three murdered him. He passed the bar, but decided not to go in. Alcohol wouldn’t help him in his mood. He believed he had someone on his own team who passed information to the people who murdered Justin, James, and attempted to kill the boy and his parents. This same group also murdered the bank clerk in Nacogdoches.
His problem, if this was true, he couldn’t wait to do something about it. If he waited, someone else would die, and that death would be his responsibility. He would bet his life that Melissa didn’t leak information. That left him with no one.
Several years before an old sheriff had told him, “When things seem impossible, they probably are impossible.” Now, it seemed impossible that a member of his team did this. He took a deep breath. If he went with that philosophy, no one on his team leaked info. If they didn’t, how was the information getting out?
David stopped walking, stood, cold and alone at the place where Justin died. He didn’t know how long he stood there, but his thoughts jerked back to the present when a car honked behind him. He turned to find a Lufkin police car with a patrolman exiting the vehicle. When he identified himself, the patrolman returned to work and David headed for his motel room. He had a big day coming up in the morning.
* * * *
Melissa trudged to her room and sat for several minutes, but decided she wanted a drink. Since a bar was only a couple of blocks away, she debated whether to call David and see if he wanted to go, but decided she wanted to go alone. Outside her room, she ran into Melvin and John and they invited themselves. She took a deep breath and agreed. She decided what the heck, and knocked on Andy’s room and found Morgan with him. A few minutes later, the five agents drove the three blocks to the bar.
When they entered, the crowded place blinded them with cigarette smoke, and they groped to a vacant table in the rear. A waitress materialized and they ordered.
As music reverberated throughout the bar, Melissa leaned back in her seat, sipping her Crown and coke. She hadn’t wanted company, but at least no one talked. David was right and she knew it, but she didn’t know what she would have done if one of the agents had died in Whistlam’s arrest. Her problem was she didn’t know if she could have lived with that.
She also didn’t know if this was the main reason women had a hard time breaking into this profession. Was she different on the inside than men? She didn’t think so, didn’t want to believe it.
Besides, she knew things bothered David. When Henry almost died in Houston, he blamed
himself, even though he wasn’t even there. He blamed himself for Deputy Milam’s death and he wasn’t there to do anything about it. He had made no decision for either of them, but he blamed himself, so it couldn’t be a man or woman thing.
She needed to learn to deal with problems from her decisions. She appreciated David’s support. He could easily have canned her for a man, and this would have given him an excuse if he looked for one, but David was the only person who believed in her.
She twisted in her seat, realizing that Andy had asked her something. She acted as if she couldn’t hear him, but the others looked at her as if they also wanted to hear the answer.
Andy repeated the question. “Do you know what David found out in Houston?”
She shook her head. “No. He didn’t tell me. We talked about what happened with Whistlam.”
Andy leaned closer. “Did he blame you for that?”
She wondered why Andy had asked that question and why he attempted to stand up for her. Was he beginning to respect her, or did he have a romantic interest? She couldn’t tell, and sure didn’t want to encourage the romantic part if that was what it was. She smiled, “David supported me. Told me I did everything he would have done.” She chuckled, “Told me I worked for him and he would tell me when I screwed up and no one else.”
Morgan leaned forward. “I know you warned me not to underestimate David, but I did.” He smiled, “Won’t do that anymore.”
Melvin said something Melissa didn’t hear, but pretended she did and smiled. She ordered another drink when the waitress came by. She needed to be careful. It didn’t take much to put her under the table and didn’t need to get falling down drunk and blubber all over a group of male agents that she wanted respect from.
An hour and another drink later, she told the men she needed to leave. She sighed with relief when they agreed. The effects of the alcohol had begun and she’d reached her limit.
As they drove back to the motel room, she glanced out the window. Her heart skipped a beat as David, hunched over against the wind, hands jammed into his pockets, shuffled toward his room. She wondered what bothered him enough to make him take a walk in this weather.
* * * *
David awoke at five the next morning, put coffee on, hit the shower, and dressed in his navy suit. After sitting down at his desk, sipping his coffee, he pored through the sheriff’s department records, especially work and call logs.
He tapped on his lips. No wonder Justin got suspicious of these false calls. In the last six months he worked, he had thirty-seven of them. Comparing the false calls to the call logs, he found that the dispatcher didn’t list who called in the complaints. Now curious, he checked other calls and saw a few that didn’t have a complainant. He knew this happened when people didn’t wish to leave their name. But all the false calls to only Justin without a complainant sent the odds spiraling above anything reasonable. It seemed the dispatcher sent him to these places without a complaint.
When David compared these thirty-seven calls to who worked, he found that one dispatcher sent Justin on all of them. He didn’t believe in coincidences, but with the dispatchers rotating shifts, this went well beyond anything a sane person would consider reasonable.
This might be the break he needed. The dispatcher didn’t do this without someone telling her to. Sheriff’s department supervisors would’ve caught on to it too fast. Someone gave the orders and he didn’t believe that if she had a lick of sense, she’d take all the blame. He would start with her because he needed someone to talk, and didn’t believe Peterson or Spivey would. He’d concentrate on the dispatcher and the investigators first.
While David talked to Beeker, the first agent knocked on the door. He let Melvin in and told him to let the others in when they showed up.
Thirty minutes later, the entire team sat waiting. He leaned forward, “Here is what I found out in Houston. The Sawyer case that Justin referred to had to do with two different groups committing the same crimes, but one group didn’t know about the other. The groups had one person who was a part of both groups. I think in our case, that person was James.”
Melissa, writing in her notebook, glanced up. “Is the sheriff’s department one of the groups?”
David nodded. “Most definitely.”
“Wh—what are th—they up to?”
“They guaranteed drug dealers safe passage around Lufkin, for money of course. They met them at the loop and escorted them. They sent Justin on false calls to get him out of the way. When he left to answer a call, they escorted the drug runners around. I believe James introduced them to this. If a dealer didn’t pay, he was fair game.”
Morgan leaned forward. “It was about drugs after all.”
David got another cup of coffee. He waited until he had sat to respond. “One part of it is, yes.”
“What’s the other part of this?” Andy asked.
“That I don’t know.” David again debated with himself about whether to talk to them about the informer, and again decided against it. He didn’t want it to stop—he wanted to catch who gave out the information and know the reason.
After Melissa got some coffee, she asked, “What’re we going to do?”
David thought a moment, more of who he wanted to team with whom. “Melissa, I want you and Andy to pick up Caitlin Spalding, a dispatcher for the sheriff’s department. She worked the night shift and should be getting home soon. If not, find her any place but the department and bring her to the Lufkin police department.” David reached across and handed Melissa her address on a slip of paper.
“Is she under arrest?”
“I’d prefer you get her there without the cuffs, but get her there any way possible. One thing—I don’t want her to use the phone or speak to anyone until I get there.”
When Melissa nodded, David turned to Melvin. “Take John with you. I want all the information you can get on the phone calls received by Ms. Whistlam on the day you attempted to arrest her son.” David reached into his brief case and brought out some papers. He handed one to Melvin. “Here is a federal search warrant for the documents.” He handed another to Melissa. “Federal arrest warrant if you need it.”
“I’m taking Morgan with me. We’re going to see the county judge and may need to talk to the county commissioners court. Not sure on that one. I have every intention of having the sheriff, his chief deputy, two investigators, and that dispatcher in jail before this day is over. Any questions?”
* * * *
Melissa and Andy cruised by Caitlin Spalding’s house thirty minutes later. She lived in an old neighborhood in North Lufkin with pine trees intermingled with hardwoods lining the streets.
They found a rusted Ford Fairlane in her driveway and parked behind it. On the front door, they found a large sign in block letters proclaiming that a daytime sleeper lived there, and she didn’t want any “solisitatsion,” and she’d prosecute trespassers.
Andy grinned. “Think we should chance it?”
She rapped on the door. “I think we’d better. I’d rather face her than David.” Several minutes passed without an answer and she banged again. Moments later, padding feet like the beginning of thunder vibrated through the door.
“Uh-oh,” Andy said as the door jerked open.
“What the hell do you want? Can’t you read? I’m a deputy sheriff and I’ll have your butts in jail if you don’t haul ass.”
Melissa’s mouth fell open and Andy stepped back. Melissa changed her mind about facing David. The biggest woman she’d ever seen stood facing them with an expression that seemed to say she would rather eat them. With clipped hair like a man’s, Caitlin Spalding stood every bit of six-one and outweighed Melissa and Andy together by a hundred pounds and not an ounce of it looked like fat. Now, she placed hands the size of hams on her hips. “Did you two hear me?”
Melissa blinked. She sure couldn’t fight this woman. Heck, she wasn’t even sure a bullet would put her down. Andy’s mouth twitched as he glanced at Melissa
as if saying, you’re the boss.
Melissa flashed her badge. “Are you Caitlin Spalding?”
“What of it?”
“Are you Caitlin Spalding?”
“Hell yes. What do you want?”
“I’m Agent Melissa Adams with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Our boss sent us here to bring you to the police station. He wants to have a talk with you.” She hoped her voice didn’t quiver.
Spalding snorted like a wild pig. “Your boss should’ve sent more than you two to get me.”
Melissa rolled her eyes. Why could nothing be simple? She sure didn’t want a fight this early in the morning, especially with this woman.
Andy stepped forward. “Ma’am, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, you—” Neither agent expected what happened next. The dispatcher slapped Andy down the steps. He landed on his back, releasing a loud swoosh.
When the woman reached for Melissa, she’d had enough. She knocked her hand away with her left arm. Her right hand jabbed upward as high as she could with an opening between her thumb and index finger. The blow caught the dispatcher at the base of the throat.
Before dropping to her knees, Spalding’s face burst to purple. Gagging and sputtering, she clawed at her throat.
Melissa, not wanting to give her a chance to recover, grabbed her hair and yanked her forward. Not able to reach around the woman’s wrist with one hand, Melissa used both to wrench her right arm behind her back. When she had the retching woman cuffed, she smacked her on the back with her palm to get oxygen down her windpipe.
With a sheepish expression, Andy rose and brushed his clothes off. “Need any help?”
Melissa, with one knee square in the woman’s back, and a death grip on the cuff chain, glanced up. “Could use some if you’re through lying down on the job.”
