Chapter 33
33
“We need more evidence,” Jeremy grumbled.
“Goddammit,” Pete growled. “I know Buford Grissley has something to do with what’s happening.”
Jeremy tapped his pen on the desk, then jerked his head up to spear his partner with a hard stare. “What was it his wife said? Buford had an elder in the church who helped him count the money.”
Pete’s brows lifted as he nodded. “You’re right, she did. We need to find out who that elder is. Maybe he can key us into any suspicions.”
“And why was he someone elderly? Why not someone in the congregation who’s a bookkeeper, accountant, or just someone younger?”
“I don’t know, but it’s worth digging into. We need to talk to Mrs. Grissley again when he’s not around.”
“We’ll drive by the church and see if his vehicle is there,” Jeremy said, grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.
The drive to the church was quiet, the kind of silence between partners that spoke of shared focus. Jeremy parked in the same spot they had used before, his eyes scanning the lot. Only one vehicle, a modest and slightly battered sedan, sat in the gravel parking lot. It was the same one there when they’d talked to her before.
Jeremy knocked, and a moment later, the door opened, and Donna Grissley appeared. Her eyes widened in surprise before her face settled into a smile.
“Detective Pickett. Detective Bolton,” she greeted, her tone friendly but cautious. “How nice to see you again.”
“Hello, Mrs. Grissley,” Jeremy said, flashing a warm, disarming smile as he turned on the charm. “We realized we forgot to ask you something when we talked last and hoped you might help us clarify a few things.”
Her brow furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across her face as she clasped her hands together. “Oh, well, I’ll certainly do my best.”
Jeremy’s tone softened, adopting an easy conversational rhythm. “We understand how important it is for churches to ensure that all donations are accounted for properly. And, of course, you mentioned that Pastor Grissley is meticulous about such things.”
Donna’s curls bounced as she nodded emphatically, a touch of pride in her expression. “Oh yes, Buford is very conscientious about the church’s finances. He says it’s a gift from God and should be treated that way.”
Jeremy tilted his head, expressing casual interest, though his words were carefully chosen. “We’re interested in talking to any of the elderly in your congregation. Could you remind us of the name of the gentleman who helps your husband with the church finances? He might have some insight.”
Donna hesitated and pressed her lips into a thin line as her hands wrung together. Jeremy noticed the flicker of pain in her grimace. She loosened her hands from their clench to wrap her arms around her middle as her shoulders slumped. “Oh, my… oh, dear.”
Pete stepped in, his voice firm. “We’d really appreciate your help, Mrs. Grissley. Anything you could tell us might go a long way toward protecting the congregation.”
Donna’s eyes returned to Jeremy, her expression still pained. “You won’t be able to talk to the man who helped Buford. He died just a little while back.” She scrunched her face. “It was so sad. He just dropped dead. Terrible, really terrible. But Buford says that God takes us when it’s time for us to go.”
Jeremy’s head jerked slightly. “Dropped dead?”
“Yes,” she whispered, then cleared her throat. “He… he was such a kind soul… he and his family have come to the church for years.”
Jeremy looked at Pete, seeing the same curiosity he knew was on his face. “Okay, well, thank you, Mrs. Grissley. I don’t suppose anyone else might have assisted or filled in?”
She shook her head. “No. No one has stepped up to take the position. I think everyone has been grieving Mr. Parker since he passed.” She leaned closer and whispered, “Did you know that they are just planning his funeral? There was something about his body not being released yet from…” She lowered her voice to a whisper as she leaned closer. “From the morgue !” She shuddered. “Can you imagine? How horrible for Roy’s family!”
Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat, but he maintained his composure. “I’m so sorry to hear that. How did he die?”
Donna replied softly, “I understand that he wasn’t feeling well, so his wife took him to the emergency room. And he just dropped dead right there! Buford was heartbroken. They were very close.”
Jeremy’s mind raced, trying to pull together the random threads of the clues, unable to tie them all together. Not wanting Buford to show up yet, he chewed on his bottom lip, desperately searching for another question to ask Donna. He gazed at Donna, and then his vision zeroed in on the table behind her. “Your flowers are beautiful, Mrs. Grissley. I’m sure that’s another one of your duties, right? Arranging the flowers.”
She straightened and preened as a timid smile crossed her face. “Oh, they are lovely, aren’t they?”
“Where do you get such beautiful bouquets? A local florist?”
“Oh, no, detective. I do all the arranging myself. With money so tight, we can’t afford fancy store-bought bouquets. But some of the sweet ladies will bring in flowers from their gardens or greenery at the holidays, and I do what I can to make the arrangement pretty.”
“Those tall flowers in the back—the purple and pink ones. Are those foxglove?”
She gasped as her eyes widened. “You know your flowers! And yes… that’s foxglove. We have some in our little garden at home.” She looked behind her, then added, “Buford brought those to me for the vase. He said they came from the Parker house since we hope to have the funeral within the next couple of days.”
Jeremy and Pete exchanged glances, silent communication passing between them. But his mind filled with the connection now between Buford and Mr. Parker’s death… and how Cora was right in the middle.
As soon as they were in the vehicle, Jeremy said, “We need to submit a new subpoena request. With this information, if we can tie Buford into the Parker murder, then?—”
“We need to talk to Elizabeth and John. They’ve got the Parker murder case. We’re only following the drug trail.”
“Shit,” Jeremy groused. His concern over the case had him skipping protocol. While Pete put the vehicle in reverse, Jeremy pulled out his phone and called John. “Hey, man. Are you and Elizabeth at the station? Good. Pete and I need to meet with you. Looks like we might have info on your Parker case. And it might tie into what we’re working on.”
As they pulled out of the church parking lot, Jeremy saw Donna standing in the doorway, a peaceful smile on her lips as she waved goodbye.
* * *
Jeremy, Pete, and Terry sat with Elizabeth and John in one of the conference rooms with Colt at the head. They were joined by Will Sicowski from the state police and Tom Rodman from the DEA office out of Virginia Beach.
“It looks like you’ve uncovered a trail of prescription pill thieves who gather them from a variety of victims… the amount from each victim is small enough not to be noticed right away. Whoever they pass them off to is someone else higher in the chain and as the drugs make their way up the chain, the amount of street value is staggering.”
“So what we have uncovered that was stolen here is just the tip of the iceberg,” Jeremy said. When Tom nodded, he sighed. “That’s what we assumed.”
Will asked, “What do you have?”
“We have no idea how long this may have been going on or how large the scope is in our jurisdiction. If it hadn’t been for Fred Rudolph’s death involving a car accident when he was transporting a bag filled with prescription drugs, we wouldn’t have been alerted to what was happening. We have reason to believe that someone is stealing the prescriptions from the elderly or paying them a pittance to give the drugs to someone, perhaps someone they trust. Because of the victims that we suspect, we’ve looked at anything that tied them together. That led us to a driver, Jed Harborrow, who we have under surveillance. And then that led us to Buford Grissley, our main suspect.”
Pete continued, “He visits the elderly, not only in his own congregation but also anyone who doesn’t already have a church affiliation. We just got the subpoena to check the bank statement for the church and he and his wife.”
“And?”
“We’ve only started looking. From first glance, the church seems to be taking in very little money. Enough to pay him a pittance of a salary and keep the building running. He uses his wife as a receptionist, cleaner, organizer, secretary… you name it, and she does it without pay.”
“We’ve just started looking at the bank statements for him and his wife.”
Elizabeth spoke up with hesitation. “What would the profit be for some of these drugs?”
Terry looked over at her. “A lot more than you’d think. Street value per pill of an opioid could be up to eighty dollars per pill?—”
“Damn,” John said, shaking his head.
Tom added, “A prescription bottle of ninety pills could bring in close to five grand.”
“Whoever is taking the pills here on the local level would be paid less, but it would still be significant,” Pete said.
“Certainly, in an area where close to twenty percent of the population is at poverty level,” Colt said.
“What about Mrs. Parker?” Elizabeth asked. “Right now, she and her son are still our suspects in Roy’s murder.”
“Keep looking into them,” Terry said. “No stone unturned.” He looked at Jeremy and Pete. “And I want you to get something out to Karen and the woman who heads the ES Area Agency on Aging … they need to warn the elderly that they aren’t to give or sell their prescriptions to anyone.”
“I’ll talk to Karen, and Pete can handle talking to Angie,” Jeremy said, keeping his face straight and ignoring the death glare from his partner.
“Whatever you turn up on the drug case, keep us in the loop. We might be able to take down more than what is happening in your jurisdiction.”
“Will do,” Terry promised, eyeing his detectives.
The meeting ended, and Jeremy started to hustle to his desk when Pete’s punch hit him in the arm. “What the fuck, man?” he asked while laughing.
“If you’re calling Karen, there’s no reason for me to call that ESAAA lady?—”
“You know her name is Angie.”
“Fine. I might know her name, but… fuck… you know what? I’ll do it just to shut you up,” Pete grumbled.
Walking to his desk, Jeremy kept a grin on his face. Despite the gruesome case they were on, he liked the idea of the playful Angie lightening up Pete’s world.