Chapter 13 #2
Asher picked up his laptop and cell phone and went into the bar—the quietest place on the property.
His first call was to Reddick. There was a lot to tell, and a chance the sheriff would not be willing to deceive the public.
He had to convince him that omitting certain facts in a press conference was just an update without giving away info in a case as yet unsolved.
He had all of the updates pulled up on his laptop.
There was nothing left to do but make the call.
“Briscoe County Sheriff’s office. How may I direct your call?”
“This is Asher Kingston. I need to speak to Sheriff Reddick.”
“One moment please.”
Asher was staring out the window at the traffic going by when Reddick picked up.
“Asher. Good to hear from you. How can I help you?”
“I have information, and I have a request. Starting with information. You have seen the photos Dylan took of the Brandt brothers, and agreed that we didn’t want them arrested on a stolen car when you’re trying to get them for attempted murder, right?”
“Yes, and rightly so,” Reddick said.
“Gunner and I found the motive. We know exactly why they tried to kill Dad. They visited their dad in prison before he died. We asked ourselves, what if he told them where the money was buried? And if he had, why did they come straight to the Tumbleweed? Then we discovered that the Feds never had a chance to question or interrogate Brenda for anything. They just knew she was in on it in some way and then she was dead. And Brandt said he hid it. Long story short, it wasn’t Brandt.
It was Brenda who buried the money, and Gunner and Dylan and I found it.
It’s already been turned over to the FBI under secrecy.
We don’t want the Brandts to know that. They won’t come back for a second look, and they’ll also get away with attempted murder. ”
Matt Reddick was in shock. “My God… All these years.”
“Yes, and Dad still doesn’t know any of this, and you can’t talk about anything until the Feds have released the news themselves.”
“Of course, of course,” Reddick said.
“What my brothers and I want to do next is set a trap, but we need to bait it, and that’s where you come in.
If you were willing to hold a press conference to update the public about your ongoing case, and mention that you are still working leads…
and Jacob Kingston, the victim, is still alive, but you have no further information on his condition or when he will be released…
and that the Tumbleweed Bar will remain closed until he has recovered, we believe that news will spur the Brandts to come back for another try.
A million dollars in bearer bonds is untraceable. ”
“I can and will gladly do this,” Reddick said. “I’ll take it from here and contact the TV stations in Amarillo, then hold a press conference on the courthouse steps. Hopefully, our perps will be watching one of the stations when it airs. Now, I have a question. What are your plans to catch them?”
“We already have it in place. There will be no signs that we are there. We’re moving the rental car we’ve been using to a friend’s house.
Dad’s old truck will be parked out back as always, and we’re going into stakeout mode inside our own home and wait for the perps to come to us.
Shades pulled. Windows down. No indications of life inside.
But we’ll see them coming and take them by surprise. ”
“And call me when it’s done,” Reddick said.
“Yes, sir. They’re solely your perps to lock up, and your case to clear. This has nothing to do with our status as law enforcement. We just want justice for Dad,” Asher said.
“Then we’re good to go. However, know that I wouldn’t be this amenable if you weren’t the law officers you already are. That means I trust you not to let your anger influence your treatment of the men you capture.”
“We don’t beat up the perps we arrest, but we also cannot be worried about a bloody lip or nose if we take one down from behind. These men are big. If they try to make a run for it, it’ll take all three of us to bring them down and get them in handcuffs.”
“Understood,” Reddick said. “Let me make some calls. I’ll text you when the press conference happens, and you can watch the stations for yourself when it airs.”
“Much appreciated, and thank you, sir.”
“No. Thank you. I don’t have the manpower or the time to devote that you and your brothers have spent working on this case. I’ll be in touch.”
As the call ended, Asher leaned back with a sigh of relief. It was happening, and he had a gut feeling that this was going to be the trigger to bringing them down.
He left the bar and went back into the house. “It’s done,” he said. “Reddick has agreed to all of it. Press conference. The whole thing. And he’s setting it up and will let us know details later.”
“Hot damn,” Gunner said. “I feel good about this.”
“I want this over,” Dylan said.
“We all do, Dylan. But this is the dirty work it took to make Dad’s world safe again, and you were right in there with us. You broke the case when you got their pictures. Knowing what the enemy looks like, and knowing where they hide, is everything to a cop.”
Gunner nodded. “Ash is right. You turned a big corner for us. We’re all ready to go home.”
“And Dad coming home is the last item on our agenda. We can’t stay and be his healthcare workers without putting our livelihoods at risk.
I’ll contact a home healthcare center later, to make sure he has daily visits and help with everything until he is fully healed,” Asher said.
“And for now, this time is ours. Catch up on rest. Kick back and relax. I’m going to make one last run to Belker’s to ensure we don’t have a need for anything during the time we’re on lockdown.
And I’m going to go see Nora. I’m not sure when she’s planning to leave. ”
“Back to Fort Worth?” Dylan asked.
“For the time being, until I can get home. After that, she’s moving to Austin with me,” Asher said.
“Give her a hug from us,” Dylan said. “She is the one who solved the mystery.”
“But remember, that’s known only to us,” Asher said.
He put on his coat and his Stetson, pocketed his phone and the keys to the SUV, and headed out the door.
* * *
It was daybreak.
Nora was nose deep beneath her covers when she began hearing the abrupt whap, whap of rotor blades and thought, helicopter!
Her first thought was someone was hurt until she realized there were no accompanying sirens, then remembered Ash telling her he was notifying the FBI. If that was them, then she guessed that was an escort, and the Feds had just arrived.
She rolled over and pulled up the covers again, thinking of what they must be going through, then remembered they’d experienced far worse and at a much younger age, and tried to go back to sleep, but it was no use.
“I’d feel a whole lot better about this morning if Asher Kingston was snuggled up behind me,” she muttered, then got up and made her bed before she was tempted to get back in it.
She turned up the thermostat on her way to the kitchen, pushed back the curtains over the sink, searching the sky for clouds that weren’t there, then started a pot of coffee.
It was awkward with only one hand, but she finally got everything filled and hit Start, then turned around and bumped her sore hand.
“Oh lord! Oh crap, that hurt!” she moaned, cradling her hand against her chest until the pain subsided, then gave the caterpillar stitches a quick look.
The eyes she’d drawn on her palm had washed off. It was just as well. She was looking forward to the stitches coming out, and she could hardly wait. She went back to her room to dress, taking the scent of fresh-brewing coffee with her to speed up the process.
Her clothing choices were limited to what she’d brought with her.
The house was warm. Yet the sound of cold wind whipping around outside the house made her shiver, which led to pink sweatpants and a matching sweatshirt for the day.
She had no video or Zoom meeting scheduled, so the choice went to comfort instead of class.
After that, loose fuzzy socks and slip-on shoes were the last to go on.
She was eating a bowl of cereal and on her second cup of coffee, absently wondering how long it took to load up a strongbox full of money, when her cell phone rang. She glanced at Caller ID and frowned. Who did she know from Thomas Realty?
“Hello, this is Nora.”
“Nora, it’s me, Patty Shreves. Patty Thomas now.”
“Patty from high school?” Nora asked.
Patty laughed. “Yes. Mom and Dad still live in Crossroads, but I’m in Amarillo now.
I had dinner with them the other night and found out that your daddy had passed, and you’d come home to ‘deal with the house.’ Sorry.
That was how Mama put it. My deepest sympathies for your loss.
You were a good daughter, caring for him for so long. ”
“His passing was his blessing. He suffered a long time without knowing who he was, or why stuff was happening. I’ve been here a while, but I’m going to have to get back to Fort Worth soon. It’s where I live and work.”
“If you decide to rent or sell, I’d be happy to list it for you. I know it’s hard to be a long-distance landlord. I handle a lot of rentals.”
“I have decided to sell, but I have a houseful of furniture to get rid of first, and I now have stitches in my hand, so work has come to a halt.”
“I’m so sorry. When it rains, it pours, right? I won’t pressure you, but I wanted to touch base just in case.”
“No, no, actually, this is a timely call,” Nora said. “Why don’t you come and evaluate the property, tell me what to list it for, and get it up for sale?”