by Jim Riley
"You hurt me, man. Mr. Jesse, he ain't gonna like this."
Dalton towered over the fallen man. "I don't know who Mr. Jesse is, but if he told you to do this, then I'd like to meet him."
The black man sneered through his bloody face.
"You gonna meet him, all right. You and that ho' you with. It ain't gonna be much fun."
A feminine voice sounded behind Dalton. "I can't leave you alone for three minutes without you getting into trouble. What are you doing?"
Dalton turned to face Niki.
"I was explaining to this gentleman that it isn’t nice to play with toys that he can't use properly. I think he got the message."
The man on the ground bawled. "You gonna get the message. Just wait til Mr. Jesse finds out about you."
"Oh, no," Niki sighed. "Not him again."
Dalton stepped back away from the vehicle.
"I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Jesse. Evidently, you know him better than I."
The investigator shook her head.
"He's a drug dealer in Scotlandville who has an account at Tiger Eye. He wasn't happy with Scott Wilson, and he was in the office last Wednesday. He had the opportunity to take the letter opener."
"You said again?" Dalton asked.
"Jesse sent some kids over here this morning to deliver a message. It didn't work out swell for the kids."
"Did you call the police?"
"Looking back on it, I should have. I thought he would leave me alone after what I did to those kids."
She glanced at the black man. "Looks like I was wrong."
"Maybe we should go visit Mr. Jesse tomorrow," the senator said.
"Look out," Niki screamed, looking past her fiancé.
Dalton looked down at the black man just as the knife slashed at the cuffs of his pants. The blade missed his legs by less than an inch. The politician swung the bat twice more. The first blow knocked the small blade out of the assailant’s hand. The next one crashed into his head, silencing any more threats and thwarting any additional attacks.
"Yeah," he said, looking at the blood on the bat. "We definitely need to pay a visit to Mr. Jesse in the morning."
Thursday Morning
Scotlandville
Six federal agents followed Dalton Bridgestone's Ford F250 pickup into the yard in front of Jesse Ramirez's office. For of the agents charged the front door. The others set up a perimeter around the building, wielding pump shotguns and automatic rifles. All agents wore bulletproof Kevlar vests and leggings. Two men raced toward the door with a battering ram.
The flimsy door offered little resistance, and the officers ran inside with military precision, covering every inch of the interior with superior weapons. Dalton and Niki followed the officers, entering just as Ramirez pulled an automatic 9mm pistol from his desk.
"Don't do it or you die," one agent said.
Ramirez stared at the business in of the shotgun, and then at the rifles pointed at him. He slowly laid the pistol on top of his desk and raised his hands.
"What's this all about? I ain't done nothing."
"We are arresting you for conspiracy to attempt the murder of a federal employee."
The officer read the shocked entrepreneur his Miranda rights. When he finished, he cuffed the drug dealer.
"I didn't conspire to kill nobody. That bitch is lyin’. You can't believe anything she says."
Dalton stepped forward.
“I'm Dalton Bridgestone, the sitting United States senator. representing Louisiana. They will believe me.”
"I don't know you. Why would I want you dead?" Ramirez cowered between the two officers.
"You sent three boys yesterday, and one older feller last night. They have admitted your involvement. I believe they thought your name was a get–out–of–jail–free card. Sorry, it doesn't work that way."
Ramirez jerked at the arms of the officers.
"I still say I don't know you. I was sending a message to that whore standing beside you."
Niki smiled. "Thank you for your admission of guilt, Jesse. I told you when we first met yesterday that I am a federal investigator. I work for the Senate Finance Committee."
"So what? You’re an investigator. I see lots of them on our street. They don't last too long. Neither will you."
"You just admitted that you knew she was a federal investigator," Dalton smiled. "It's a felony to assault a federal agent or to order someone else to do so. You're gonna have a little trouble running your enterprise from federal prison."
Fear became evident on Ramirez’s face. "Hold on. I pay good money for protection. I ain’t going to jail. You just wait and see."
"The money you paid to the local police won’t help you in federal court. You'll have plenty of time to see your mistake, About twenty years or more," Dalton smiled. "Take him out of here, guys. He makes me sick."
When Dalton and Niki walked out of the door, they were surprised to see over one hundred Black men surrounding the federal officers. Many held shotguns and pistols. Two of the agents pushed Ramirez into the back of a federal squad car.
"I don't guess they appreciated us arresting one of their main sources. Not good for a cohesive neighborhood to have a player of that magnitude hauled off." Niki pulled out the Smith & Wesson thirty-eight revolver. "I'm ready when you are. Just say the word."
Dalton put a hand on her gun and pushed it down.
"We’ve got to find out which one is the leader."
Dalton stepped off the porch. He walked up to the biggest older man in the crowd that wasn't holding a gun. The large man was more than six and one-half feet tall with broad shoulders and powerful arms. He had only a khaki shirt with fresh jeans on.
"I'm Dalton Bridgestone," he said without extending his hand.
"I'm Junior," the big man grunted.
"Good. Good. Well, Junior. It's up to you and me how many people die here this morning."
"You let Mr. Jesse go, and we let you go."
Dalton was more than happy that Junior was the leader of the uprising. The powerful man deferred to no one when making the statement.
"We can't do that, Junior. How many of these folks are related to you?" Dalton motioned to the crowd behind Junior.
"Most of ʻem. Cousins and such."
"How many of them do you want to see killed here today? That's what will happen if you interfere. You and I will both be killed along with a whole lot of your friends and relatives. Is that what you want?"
Junior looked nervously around him. Several of the young men took a step back and away from their leader.
"When will you bring Mr. Jesse back?"
"He's not coming back. He's committed a serious crime."
"What we gonna do without him?"
"You'll be fine. There are lots of people like Jesse Ramirez out there. If you want to keep your kids sick while they grow up on that poison he was giving them, there’ll be somebody willing to sell it. But if you're ready to break them free from those things, now would be a good time."
Junior nodded.
"It be up to us, huh?"
Dalton nodded. "It always has been. It's just that people like Jesse Ramirez tried to take that choice away from you to put money in his own pocket. He's taken money out of Scotlandville and used it for himself."
"He not be like that. He be one of us."
"Then why does he live in the Country Club of Louisiana in Baton Rouge, and not here in Scotlandville? He drives an old clunker down here, but he drives a Mercedes-Benz and a Rolls-Royce in town. He’s been using your money for years."
Junior rubbed the side of the face with a huge paw, torn between the choices he faced.
He said nothing else to Dalton. He turned to the throng of people behind him.
"Let's go home."
Thursday Noon
Baton Rouge
Dalton and Niki picked Donna up from the townhouse, and the trio opted for Mike Anderson’s Seafood for lunch.
Donna looked
at the menu.
"What do you guys like here? For me and Blake, the pizza buffet is a treat. We don't come to places like this."
"I like the redfish and the fried crawfish," Niki responded. "But my favorite is the crawfish platter. You get a bit of everything, and it's more than I can eat."
"That's saying a lot for her," Dalton laughed. "Cows run for cover when she shows up. Try the softshell crab. Nobody in Baton Rouge makes it better."
"I'm sticking with Miss Niki," Donna said. "She hasn't steered me wrong yet."
Niki winked at Donna and stuck her tongue out at Dalton. He went back to reading the menu.
Right after they finished their appetizers and were waiting for entrées, the hulking figure of Blake Hebert loomed over the table.
"Blake, what are you doing here?" Donna shrunk in the booth. "Why did you come?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Blake responded. "They told me when they let me go that I couldn't see you until after the trial. I can't stay away from you. You know that."
"Blake, when did they let you out?" Niki looked directly at the football player. "I thought you might be in jail for a while after what you did."
The football player’s eyes remained on Donna.
"Coach called them. Don't worry," the youngster said. "Nobody will ever hear about it. They won't ever know."
Niki didn't ask who 'they' were that Blake was certain were fooled. She realized it was probably the hundreds of thousands of LSU fans. Niki assumed most of them did not care as long as the kid could sack the opposing quarterbacks on Saturday nights.
"Why are you here?"
"Donna texted me and told me she was coming here with you guys. I had to see her."
Niki shot Donna a hard glance before addressing Blake. "Now you've seen her. I can't ask you to join us because that would violate the conditions of her release."
"Hebert, get your ass out of here," a man dressed in an LSU sports shirt grabbed the huge player.
"But, Coach. I just wanted to see her."
"Hebert, get your ass to your room. Now!"
The large player meekly walked out of the dining establishment. The coach remained at the table.
"Sorry, Miss Cross. I wish you and your friends an enjoyable lunch. Why don't you let the LSU athletic department buy your meal today? No questions. It's on us."
The coach did not wait for an answer. He followed his player out of the restaurant.
"Donna," Niki said in a stern voice.
"I'm sorry, Miss Niki. I was bragging to him about going to Mike Anderson's. I figured I'd make him jealous and pay him back for yesterday. I didn't mean for him to come."
"You have to be careful. You and he both could get into a lot of trouble."
"But he will never get into trouble. The coaches will protect him no matter what he does."
Niki shook her head.
"At some point in time, Blake will have to face the consequences of his actions."
The investigator returned to Dalton. "What do you think?"
Dalton looked at both of the girls with a serious frown. Then he broke into a huge grin.
"I think I'm going to get an extra softshell crab. It's not every day that LSU pays for my lunch."
Thursday Afternoon
Tiger Eye
"Ashton, you guys have had a tough week. First Scott and then Howard," Dalton opened the conversation. "Not to mention Donna's arrest."
"You wouldn't believe," Ashton leaned back in his chair. "Our whole staff is doing nothing but talking to our clients about it. And it doesn't help matters that some of our clients are suspects. My agents are scared to tell them anything."
"You don't have to worry about one of them," Dalton responded. "Jesse Ramirez was arrested this morning for trying to kill Niki and me. Your people don't have to worry about him for the next twenty years."
"Ramirez? Ramirez?" Johnson pondered. "I can't recall ever meeting him. But then, Scott usually handled our problem accounts."
"Who will handle those problem accounts with Scott gone?" Niki asked.
Ashton Johnson looked down at the pad on his desk, though it was blank.
"Hugh, Sheila and I must meet soon to determine the direction of the day–to–day operations."
"You are the only one of the three licensed to do business by the Association, aren't you?" Niki asked.
Johnson nodded.
"Doesn't that put you in the catbird seat? Sheila and Hugh can't assume operations of the company unless they pass the examination."
"It's a lot more than one examination," Johnson laughed. "The series 7 test only allows a representative to talk to the clients, nothing more. There are still the options license, the investment advisers license, the supervisory license, and the futures license, among others. It normally takes people years to get through all of them."
"If I understand you correctly, then Sheila and Hugh may never be in a position to manage the company," Niki said. "That leaves you, doesn't it?"
"Not necessarily. They control two-thirds of the vote. They could hire someone else to run the business. Someone that doesn’t own any of the shares."
"That's not a big probability," Niki frowned. "Especially given the relationship between you and Sheila. That, in fact, gives you control, doesn't it?"
"Only if we continue to see each other," Ashton closed his eyes. "I can't tell you what the future holds. Both Sheila and I have to make some difficult decisions."
"Tell me about Hugh's daughter, Susie. What did she have to do with the company?" Niki asked.
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing," Ashton responded. "She isn’t a registered representative for us. If I remember correctly, she’s still young."
"Why did you hired Dale Blocker? Wasn't it because of his relationship with Susie Carter?"
“I,” Johnson coughed. “I, we came up with an amicable agreement to hire Dale. Hugh has an ongoing interest in the young man.”
"How does that fit in with the company? Isn't that adding an extra expense?"
"Not really," the broker replied. "Whatever we pay Dale is taken out of Hugh’s share of the profits. If Mr. Blocker never brings us a single client, there is still no adverse effect on our company. The truth is that we have added several large accounts since hiring Dale."
"These would be friends and associates of Hugh Carter?" Niki asked.
"That's true. Hugh has an interest in this business, so he steers clients our way on occasion."
"How does Dale get along with the other agents on your staff?" Dalton asked.
"Pretty good," Johnson laughed. "He's not here enough to make anybody mad. After he had the talk with Scott, everything has been fine."
"What was that talk about?" Niki asked.
"Dale said a few inappropriate things in front of our receptionist that Scott overheard. Scott and Donna had a close relationship, and Scott didn’t appreciate those comments. He talked to Dale about the situation, and I don't think there was any more trouble."
"Did Scott agree to hire Dale?"
"No, but he couldn’t overrule Hugh and me. It wasn’t a great relationship. Scott was more of the old school type, and Dale had a different approach."
"Was the relationship so bad that Dale could have murdered Scott?"
"I thought Miss Cross was arrested for that, and for the murder of Howard Jenkins?” Johnson said. "Am I wrong?"
“You’re correct,” Niki answered. “But I’ve gotten to know Donna in the last week and I don't believe she is guilty.”
"I hope not," Johnson nodded. "She seems like a nice young lady. I wasn't close to her like Scott, but the interactions I had were always pleasant."
"Is there anything else that you would like to tell us that might help us solve this murder?" Niki asked.
Johnson did not immediately answer. When he did, his voice was noticeably lower. "I've come to the conclusion that Sheila was capable of killing her husband."
Niki quit taking notes.
"What bri
ngs you to this conclusion, Ashton?"
"Some comments she said over the last couple of days. She has shone a side of her character that I've never seen before."
"Could this have anything to do with her moving into Scott's office and taking note of how the business is run?" Niki asked.
"Of course not," the broker retorted. "You asked me a question, and I answered it.".
"And if Sheila is found guilty of Scott's murder, then you would be free to run Tiger Eye any way you please."
"But that isn't why I said it," Ashton answered.
"Why would Sheila kill Howard Jenkins?," Niki asked. "That doesn't fit your scenario."
"Maybe as a decoy. She might have figured the murder of her husband alone might cast suspicion on her. If Howard was killed, then nobody would look at her."
"That’s possible," Niki nodded. "Tell us about some of your clients. You've already told us you had very little interaction with Jesse Ramirez. How about David Phelps? Did you work on his account?"
"Phelps?" The broker tapped his finger on the desk. "I recall some discussions about his account. If I remember correctly, the meetings were about the client’s objectives, and if we were managing the account in line with those objectives. But I'll have to check my records."
"That's in line with what Mr. Phelps told me. He also told me that Howard Jenkins handled that account."
"You're right. I remember now. Howard felt like we were in compliance, and saw nothing wrong with the investments we made on behalf of Mr. Phelps."
“How confident are you that if a complaint was filed against Tiger Eye, that a review panel will support that conclusion?”
"I don't know," he replied. "Fortunately, or unfortunately, if you will, we don't have to worry about that anymore. Both Mr. Jenkins and his immediate manager, Scott Wilson, are no longer with us. Our firm can no longer be held liable for their actions, if those actions were inappropriate, which I do not believe."
