Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
AIDEN
I mmediately after I drop Tinsley off, I hurry across the street to my office. It’s on the second floor in the building above Brick Bookstore. The owner, Aggie Miller, is a proud tinfoil hat-wearing founder of the Anti-Stoll Society of Butterbury. She started the one and only chapter during the first round of Stoll’s attempt to destroy the town.
Also, she reads a lot. Mystery mostly. Some thrillers too. She also keeps tabs on Stoll’s every move. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she’s a covert member of our investigative team. In other words, she’s a good person to know.
I’ve had it in my head to become mayor for a while now, but Aggie really encouraged me to go all in. Well, as in as I can against a guy who has this place in a stranglehold.
Aggie greets me when I enter the bookstore, but the real attention comes from Hercule, her Finnish Forest Cat. His bushy tail is a wonder to behold.
“Hello, sir.” I give him a good scratch.
“Morning, Mr. Fuller,” Aggie greets me with all the efficiency of a Revolutionary War general leading troops into battle. In fact, she considers this a siege against Stoll. “Status update: all is well with the asset most recently involved in Operation Pierate.” Her gaze travels upward in a not-so-subtle way. “Fed, watered, etcetera. No additional intel available.”
She doesn’t know all the details, of course, but because Stoll loves pie and he’s something of a pirate, she dubbed the cat situation Operation Pierate. Also, I assume the etcetera refers to Twinky’s litter box.
“Thank you for your service.”
Aggie swallows and looks around to make sure we’re alone even though this is her shop, “The asset and Hercule had a meeting. She cooperated and Hercule signed off with his approval. She’s clean. Innocent.”
“Well, that’s good news,” I say, playing along. “I appreciate your help, Aggie.”
“Any word from Rat Tail?” That’s the code name she gave Gatlin Stoll.
“Unfortunately, no.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Indeed. I’d better say hello to Twinky and get some work done before I head over to Bubba’s.”
“Ah, yes. I hear your arrest went as expected. I’m only grateful the rescue was successful. I think going into the witness protection program is the best option for the asset after what she’s been through.”
I try not to chuckle. “I’ll see to it that she’s safe. Will you be able to continue checking on her while I’m out?”
“Certainly sir, yes sir. Additionally, Hercule is a proud member of this operation and he will see to it that she has companionship as well. I imagine protective custody can get lonely.”
“Glad to hear it. Thank you.”
We give each other a playful salute and I go upstairs to my office where I find the white and tan Persian cat lounging in a patch of sunlight. Much like Stoll, she’s rotund. Her tail flicks when I enter and she looks at me like I’m interrupting her morning nap. I suppose I am and I could go for one after last night’s rush through the woods when Tinsley called. I didn’t see any signs of wildlife last night, but it’s not unusual for raccoons, skunks, and other critters to get curious.
The real danger was Tinsley looking cute in her pajama set and after she got ready for her first day at Sweethearts. I tell my pulse to settle down.
“Twinky, I’d like to take a look at your collar.” She’s a spoiled feline and in addition to gourmet meals, she has a collar embroidered with gold thread and studded with gems that sparkle much like Tinsley’s sequined dress. It gave me the idea that perhaps the collar might hide something. Then again, the short, sequined dress left little to the imagination.
I check the collar and fiddle with the gems, but there’s nothing unusual about it. I thought perhaps they might give something away. Provide a clue. Even though Twinky wears a collar, there aren’t any tags—not even a bell. All I know is Stoll called her Twinky.
I give the cat a pet before returning to my desk, reviewing notes and intel that I’ve collected. My leg jostles up and down restlessly as if to point out that I’m missing something.
“Come on Stoll, reveal what you’re hiding,” I whisper to myself as I review the recent security camera footage from the town hall. I watch him come and go then stop on the last time he was seen there. The same morning Bo saw him on the road.
I rewind the tape to check something when a door creaks. I check the floor, but the cat no longer stretches in the patch of sunlight. Nor is she on the windowsill, in her cat bed, or by the bookshelves.
My stomach drops. That can only mean one thing, Twinky escaped.
I rush downstairs toward the street. It’s bad enough that I’m keeping her here, but the last thing I want for her is to be lost and scared in a world she’s never known after being pampered her whole life.
Relief calms my pulse when I spot her seated at the foot of the stairs. She licks her haunch and then peers up at me. After a long, appraising look during which I don’t dare move, she turns tail and races down the sidewalk.
I’ve pursued all kinds of bad guys on foot, and although Twinky isn’t one of them even though I think she’s somehow tied into Stoll’s misdealings, I’ll count it as the low point of my career if she gets hit by a car.
Twinky streaks by the narrow lane that separates our building from the town hall. Just then, familiar laughter echoes off the stone.
Five men who I know all too well walk toward me, talking among themselves. Then our eyes meet. Like following a laser pointer, their gazes land on Twinky. It’s like a slow-motion action shot as they make the connection as to why I’m racing down the sidewalk behind a cat.
Bo looks dubious. Nash’s focused expression suggests he does a numerical calculation for how much this could cost me as a potential mayoral candidate. I can’t read Buck from under the beard. Taylor is most definitely amused. Cassian’s brow lifts with knowing.
Like the best friends slash brotherly football team they are, they gentle “tackle” Twinky—don’t worry, not a piece of fur on her head was hurt—though Buck does get scratched by a shrub and not the cat.
Taylor passes her to me. “Office. Talk. Now.”
I’m used to giving orders, but I guess I owe the guys an explanation.
As we pass Brick Bookstore, Aggie gives me a short but meaningful nod of comradery.
The guys gather in my small office and I secure the door behind us. Dropping into my chair, I’m now on the other side of the proverbial interrogation table.
“Did we just catch you red-handed with Stoll’s cat?” Taylor asks, incredulous.
“Red-pawed?” Bo suggests.
They don’t laugh.
“So Officer Henley wasn’t wrong? You did take the cat.” Buck says.
“You’re going to need a lawyer,” Nash says.
“I have several.” Funded by the US government or slippery insiders who know their way around online documentation. But I keep that to myself.
“Did you or didn’t you steal Mayor Stoll’s cat?” Cassian asks.
“I rescued her.”
“Dare we know why?” Bo paces in front of the window with his hands hammocked behind his head.
“Stoll went on a spur-of-the-moment business trip and returned with the animal. Seemed suspicious,” I say simply.
Buck narrows his eyes as if trying to read between the lines.
I part my hands and shrug. “Little known fact, I’m a cat guy.”
“A cat guy?” Taylor asks.
I lift and lower my shoulder like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, I prefer cats to dogs.”
“Man’s best friend is not a cat,” Buck says matter of fact.
“I’m independent and travel a lot. Trust me, it makes sense.”
“There’s more,” Nash says astutely.
Cassian shoots me a look that suggests if he were to hold a pair of scales, they’d weigh more heavily toward me telling them the whole story if I don’t want to face the wrath of my best friends.
It’s now or never. I need their help. I owe them the truth. My job as an agent isn’t top secret, but I’ve kept it from everyone in my life for their safety and to compartmentalize things. Makes it easier for me. But this situation grows increasingly difficult.
I start by saying, “I have every intention of becoming mayor and turning things around in this town.”
“Not with an arrest record,” Nash cuts in.
“I’m ready to go full local. First, I need y’all to trust me. This thing with Stoll is a lot bigger than you think.”
“Obviously, Governor Pickering was involved,” Buck says.
Cassian looks at me the way he would a pro poker player, curious to see how I’ll play this hand. I have to come clean. Of course, I can’t give them the confidential details of the case, but I need their help. They have to know.
“Guys, I’ve been keeping something from you.”
“Yeah, that you’re criminally minded,” Bo says.
“You’ve taken this too far,” Nash adds.
I get to my feet. “Guys, listen. I’m an FBI agent.”
There’s silence. Then everyone except Cassian laughs.
Taylor comes over, pats me on the shoulder, and says, “That might be the best one yet. Do your sisters know? They’ll get a kick out of this joke. If we throw another Halloween party, instead of dressing up as a monster, you can go as a spy.”
“I’m not a spy and no one knows. Not Bess or Mae. They think I’m in finance or business. Those are relatively broad terms. Yeah, I’m in the business of catching criminals. As for the finance piece, I mostly deal with criminals involved in financial schemes. At least that’s how this case started.”
The loose mood in the room tightens like a rubber band pulled tautly.
“You’re not kidding are you?” Nash says serious.
I loop my thumbs in my belt and shake my head.
“Sure he is. He’s kidding,” Taylor says.
I flash my badge.
Taylor frowns. “We’re like brothers. You know all of us. Everything about us, about me. But you didn’t tell me this? Harsh, man.”
“I can understand why you’d be upset, hurt. But I hope you understand that I kept it to myself for your protection and my sisters.” Ever since the original incident with the Kravens, I’ve wanted to protect the world. Now specifically Tinsley.
Taylor’s cheeks puff as he exhales. “Okay. Yeah. I guess in your position I may have done the same.”
Cassian rests his knuckles on his chin as he takes up the pacing as if this helps him think and gets right to business. “So where are we at?”
“Aggie affectionately calls the case Operation Pierate.”
“Is she an agent too?” Taylor asks.
“No, she despises the mayor, wants to save the town, and has been helping me with the cat. Trust me guys, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’m a trained professional.”
“But the mayor is missing. Any idea where he wandered off to?” Cassian asks.
“Last known whereabouts, other than on the road out of town, was a predawn visit to the town hall.” I tell them about the security cam footage.
Bo and Buck exchange a glance as if it hits them that I’m telling the truth.
Nash says, “Cassian, are you in on this?”
“Given my training, I can sometimes recognize federal employees. I had a hunch.” I appreciate him not sharing that I’d hinted at my status when he was about to storm the town hall not long ago.
“Whew, my mind is exploding,” Buck says.
“Don’t let it. Seriously, I need your help,” I say.
Taylor says. “Wait, does Tinsley know?”
“No!” I say more loudly than I mean to.
Buck taps his finger with the air. “No, because of her involvement with Puma? Christina knew she recognized her.”
“Can we trust her?” Bo asks.
“I think Taylor can answer that,” Nash grumbles.
I straighten. “Tinsley doesn’t have the best track record among us.” I nod at Taylor. “And in the past, she may have been a bit over the top. But yes, I think we can trust her.”
Taylor snorts. “Why her, Aiden? There are millions of women in the world and you had to pick her?”
I’m about to explain myself, which amounts to a rumbling within, an attraction that is hard to fathom and goes well beyond the physical when Nash asks, “Why us?”
“Remember how Bo and Buck caught Streckle at the Estate? Nash stood by Mikey when he didn’t have to. Taylor stepped in when William Taylor hassled Mae. When Cassian intervened after Stoll, Silas, and Pickering threatened our shores? You guys always do what’s right even if it isn’t easy. What I do is always hard. I want to save Butterbury and stop whatever Stoll and his cronies are doing.”
“And what’s that?”
“I don’t know exactly. For the first time through this whole case, I’m stumped,” I admit.
“Seems to me that there is a fly in the buttermilk,” Cassian says.
“Maybe multiple,” I add.
Twinky flicks her tail as if agreeing.
“Sure is. But I know this cat has something to do with it. Stoll got a piece of mail from Gannon, Louella Belle’s brother. A week later, the mayor took a trip to Atlanta. When he came back, he had this cat in his car. Found her in a cage in the garage. Brought her here.”
“Concerning,” Bo says, presumably about the connection to Louella Belle’s brother.
“Strange,” Nash adds.
Like a team of agents in a secret room with maps and schematics, hanging swipeable glass computer screens, and an array of dangerous gadgets Q from James Bond would be proud of, the guys and I outline what we know, starting with Hydro-pro and concluding with the most recent interaction with the Governor and Gatlin in Cassian’s driveway.
He explains, “Pickering and Stoll tried to shut down production of Designed to Last over supposed tax evasion. They wanted my grandparents’ property because it offers access to the saltmarshes where they’d intended to position the enemy so they could bring our sub and navy fleet down under the guise of military testing gone awry.”
“Then why isn’t Pickering in jail? All of them?” Taylor asks.
“Despite Captain Dufour’s influence, my testimony, and Stoll’s history, Pickering covered their tracks. There will be an appeal case, but for now, they’re clear,” Cassian answers.
“For now,” I emphasize. The truth is close. I can feel it. I pet Twinky. “Stoll is bound to get sloppy. That’s the problem with secrets and lies. The truth always reveals itself like the sun after a storm while the lie requires fuel to continue to burn.”
“Poetic. What else don’t I know about you?” Taylor asks.
That I’m falling for Tinsley?
I show them the security footage I’d been reviewing. “Have a look at this. I’ve watched him come and go repeatedly. Then, I noticed something different about the last time he was at the town hall.” I pause the recording. “Stoll is wearing a different shirt.”
“These are all different days though. That’s not unusual.”
“It’s a different style shirt,” I clarify.
The guys lean in.
“It’s a Hawaiian shirt,” I say.
“Casual Friday at the office?” Nash suggests.
“This was from last week. No one has seen Stoll in town since.”
“Have you spoken with his secretary?” Bo asks.
“I am his secretary. He didn’t tell me anything and I have access to everything, guys. All his emails, files, all of it. That’s why I quote-unquote sold out. I sensed he was going to make a big move so I had to get as close as possible.”
“But you didn’t find anything,” Buck says astutely.
“Nothing other than Twinky.”
“Explain what’s unusual about getting a letter from Gannon Barnes, going to Atlanta, and having a cat?” Nash asks.
“Taken separately, nothing is especially strange about those three pieces of information. No offense to Louella Belle, but her brother’s contact is a red flag though they were friends, I guess. The trip to Atlanta was personal, not mayoral. As for the cat—”
We all look at the tan and white, long-haired Persian cat with a rhinestone studded collar.
“Yeah, okay. Weird that Stoll would suddenly adopt a cat,” Nash says.
“I think he stole her from someone and is holding her hostage.”
The guys burst into knee-slapping stitches of laughter. I’ll have to run it by Harrison because it doesn’t sound odd to me at all. Then again, I’ve never had to ask for help to solve a case. That’s why I’m a maverick, a lone wolf. I can usually do this on my own. If anything is strange, that’s it.
“What if someone in his family couldn’t take care of her anymore and he did a good deed by adopting her?” Buck asks, uncharacteristically giving Gatlin the benefit of the doubt.
“Then why did he leave abruptly with her in a cage in the garage?”
“Perhaps he meant to come right back,” Taylor says.
“But he didn’t. And that’s where the trail runs cold. He vanished without a trace. Unless...unless he was kidnapped.”
“Or he ran away with a mistress,” Taylor suggests.
We all squint at him.
“To do that he would’ve had to have been married. Was Stoll married?” Buck asks as if shocked someone would exchange vows with such a vile man.
“Not that I know of.” But their questions stir my mind like silt at the bottom of a river. I close my laptop and hold up a key. “Guys, I present to you an all-access pass to the mayor’s office.”
“Does this mean we can trash the place?” Nash asks.
I shake my head. “No, this is a federal investigation and what I’m offering you is very illegal, but I’m asking you to take a look, see if I missed something. And please leave everything exactly as you found it.”
“Where are you going?” Bo asks.
“Community service at Bubba’s,” I say from the doorway and for a ride on my motorcycle, which is where I do my best thinking.
Taylor shakes his head and exhales a breath of disbelief. “Just how deep undercover are you?”
Deep and about to get deeper because I can’t stop thinking about Tinsley.
“Don’t tell me Bubba is in on it too,” Buck says.
“No. Definitely not. I just want to help the guy out. But if anyone at the town hall asks, you’re there to surprise Stoll with an office makeover, a special edition of Designed to Last.”
Bo snaps his fingers. “Good plan.”
“Oh, and not a word of this to anyone. Not about the case, me, or any of it. Promise?” I ask, giving them all a hard stare.
I pray they’re not the kinds of guys who tell their wives everything because if so, I’m going to have two angry sisters to answer to and I’d rather tell them myself than face the music—which will consist of the low bass tones of Mae’s simmering rage and the raucous cacophony of Bess’s hysterics.
I hurry downstairs because I don’t want to be late for Bubba...or Tinsley.
Instead of finding her waiting by my motorcycle, I spot Henley lingering by it like he was yesterday by the Maybach when he arrested me.
“Are you hear to arrest me again because this scene looks suspiciously like one I’d prefer not to repeat.”
“No, I just wanted to uh, let you know that you’re clear.” Henley coughs into his hand.
“Of the charges?”
His mustache twitches. “Yeah, I apologize. Didn’t realize your position. Would’ve been nice if you’d told me.”
“I’m undercover,” I say low. “Well, I just told the guys. I’d rather my sisters not know for now.”
“Your secret is safe with me, but if I can help...”
“If you see Stoll, I’d like to be the first to know.”
“Of course.” He says with a respectful nod.
Tinsley exits Sweethearts Bakery & Café and waves as she slowly approaches, likely wary of seeing Henley again.
“You know that you don’t have to do the community service,” he whispers.
“From what I remember the last time I was by Bubba’s place for some ribs, there’s a lot of work to be done. I have access to some of Stoll’s sticky finger funds that I’d like to reinvest into the town and I plan to start with Bubba.” I wink.
Henley laughs then juts his chin in Tinsley’s direction. “You sure that’s the only reason?”
I smirk and neither confirm nor deny the allegation.