Chapter Twenty-Five
Gonzo walked into the processing area, where Rosemary and Randy Bryant were being fingerprinted, photographed and booked. Rosemary would be charged with aiding a fugitive from justice and Randy with the first-degree murder-for-hire of Rachel Fortier.
Randy gave him a filthy look that said a great deal about his level of contrition. Go ahead, Gonzo wanted to say, blame me for this if that helps you to sleep at night.
Rosemary, who was in her late forties or early fifties, wept as the officer set up her mug shot. She had short, curly brown hair and a round face. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. Running from the law must be exhausting.
“I’m Detective Sergeant Gonzales.”
She gasped when she heard his name and broke down into sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He looked at Randy, who had his head down as he was led through the motions of being booked for a crime that would send him to prison for the rest of his life.
Gonzo wondered if he knew that yet. He probably did, and that’s why he’d convinced his mother to run.
“Wh-what’s going to happen to us?”
“You’ll be arraigned at some point. Have you called an attorney?”
“I don’t have one. I don’t know anyone here.”
“Do you have the resources to pay for someone, or shall I ask them to reach out to the public defender’s office for you?”
“I could pay.”
“We have a list of local defense attorneys that you’ll be given when you’re through processing. You’ll be allowed to call three of them. Once you have someone representing you, your arraignment will be scheduled.”
“I’m sorry, Sergeant.” Her chin quivered as tears slid down her cheeks. “I panicked at the thought of Randy going to jail. I should’ve kept my promise to you and brought him here.”
“Yes, you should have.”
“He’s my only son, my whole heart. Do you know what that’s like?”
“I do. I have a son, and if he’d committed murder-for-hire, I’d have done as I was advised and delivered him to the authorities. I’m sorry you’re in trouble. I really am, but you had every opportunity to do the right thing.”
“I bought the plane tickets to come here. We were getting ready to go to the airport, and then… I just couldn’t do it. I had to try to save him. I panicked, and I was wrong to do that.”
“If you tell the judge that, you might get off without prison time or a lesser sentence.”
She blanched as if it hadn’t occurred to her that she could do time. “Prison?”
“Yes, Rosemary. People who help others run from the law go to prison.”
Deep, gulping sobs shook her.
The processing officer gave Gonzo a frustrated look.
He stepped back so she could finish. “Good luck to you, Rosemary.”
“Th-thank you for being kind to me.”
“Sure.”
“I’m… I’m sorry I disappointed you.”
“It’s okay. Happens a lot in my line of work.”
She wiped the tears from her face. “Keep a close eye on your boy. You can do everything right…”
“Take care, Rosemary.”
Gonzo returned to the pit, weighed down by Rosemary’s grief. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to raise a child into his twenties only to have him charged with murder-for-hire while away at college. That’s not something any of the parenting manuals warned you about.
“All set with the Bryants?” Sam asked.
“Yeah.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, why?”
“You looked upset when you came into the pit.”
“Something Rosemary said… About how you don’t raise a kid to adulthood thinking you might someday have to worry about him being arrested in a murder-for-hire plot.”
“Ain’t that the truth? But don’t forget that Randy’s upbringing was disrupted by a nasty divorce and protracted custody battle—not that that causes a kid to become a criminal—and his arrogant, self-involved father is up to his eyeballs in crime.”
“All that’s true, but it’s a reminder that you can try to do everything right?—”
“Your son will never be a murderer, Gonzo.”
“Listen to her,” Freddie said when he joined them. “She’s always reminding me that we’re skewed by the crap we see every day on the job, and she’s right.”
“Yes, she is,” Sam said with a smile for her partner. “She’s always right.”
Freddie groaned. “You just had to add that.”
“I did. Let’s go talk to Amber Peckham and see what she can tell us about her husband’s retribution tour and where her stepson might be.”
Faith Miller came into the pit with a thick folder tucked under her arm. “I brought you the Peckham case file.”
“Are there pictures of Hillbilly Avery in there?”
“There might be.”
“I’m gonna save that for dessert after we nail this son of bitch.”
“You really think it was one of the Peckhams?”
“All I know is the same Glock did Tom and Avery, and in light of the Peckhams’ recent invasion at Avery’s home, we’re taking a hard look at Willy’s son.”
Faith looked skeptical. “How can it not be related to Bryant?”
“I’m not sure yet that it isn’t, but this is where we are.”
“I hate that Tom was possibly murdered for no good reason other than some sort of twisted game of revenge.” Her always professional veneer was showing some cracks. “And if it was Harlan…”
Sam felt for her. “Let’s see what Amber has to say and go from there, okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. I don’t mean to let it get to me.”
“Of course it gets to you. Tom was your friend and colleague, and it’s a reminder that there’re a lot of people out there with grudges toward those of us who enforce the law.”
“It’s easy to forget that sometimes, as we go about our business and do the job.”
“Yes, it is, until it strikes close to home like this.”
Faith nodded. “Thank you for the support. It means the world always, but especially right now.”
“You got it.”
“I’ll be in observation.”
Sam and Freddie walked with her toward interview one, parting company in the hallway. They went into the room where Amber sat alone at the table, her shoulders curled in and her demeanor fearful. Sam couldn’t believe she actually felt a little bit sorry for the woman. Amber’s certainty that Willy would have her killed if she talked to them all but confirmed that he’d threatened her.
While that didn’t excuse her from what she’d done to Shelby and Noah, Sam had empathy for her, nonetheless. If she’d been in fear of her own life or her children’s lives, she would’ve done whatever Willy told her to.
“Wh-what’s going to happen?”
“We’re going to talk. Detective Cruz will record our conversation, if that’s all right with you.”
She eyed the recording device on the table with trepidation. “He’ll find a way to kill me.”
“He won’t find out, and even if he does, he can’t get near you in our custody.”
She laughed harshly. “Is that what you think? You have no idea what he’s capable of.”
“Why don’t you tell us about it?”
“Where do I start?”
“The beginning is the best place. How did you meet Willy?”
“I’ve known him all my life. I went to school with his daughter from first grade on. I was in eighth grade when he started paying “special” attention to me, and that was that. You didn’t say no to Willy Peckham, the meanest man in the county.”
“He paid you special attention even though he was married?”
“He and Justice hated each other. She wouldn’t have dared said a word to him about it.”
“Your parents had nothing to say about it?”
“They were afraid of him and his people. Everyone was. They were known for being meaner than rattlesnakes and willing to do whatever it took to get what they wanted. He wanted me. My parents wouldn’t have dared to get in the way of that, even if it broke their hearts to see me caught up in the madness that surrounded the Peckham family.”
“Tell me about the madness.”
“Oh Lord, it was always something. Willy has six brothers, and between them, they had about thirty kids. One of ’em was always in trouble for something. Drunk driving, cooking and dealing meth, stealing, raping, shooting. You name it, they did it. Local law enforcement turned a blind eye to most of it cuz no one wanted to be in their crosshairs. It was easier to look away. I heard a local sheriff say once that he needed to keep his own family safe, so he ignored them. Everyone ignored them.”
Amber wiped tears off her face. “He made me have sex with him starting when I was fourteen and controlled every aspect of my life, from the time he first decided I belonged to him.”
Even though Sam would never forgive her for what she and her husband had put Shelby through, her heart went out to the woman as she took notes.
“While he and most of his family was in jail, I got a break of sorts. They seemed to forget about me. I had two babies with another man, which infuriated Willy. But he said he’d forgive me if I continued to write to him and married him. He said it was in the best interest of my kids that I do what I was told, even though I didn’t want to marry him. When they got released from jail, his brothers made my life a living hell, showing up at all times of the night and day to make sure I knew I still belonged to Willy. I was so afraid of them.” She wiped away more tears.
“When Willy was released, his brothers drove me to meet him, and after he took me to a hotel to ‘catch up,’ he insisted we go straight to that agent’s house to get revenge for what he did to Willy’s family. He told me if I didn’t do everything he said that he’d kill me and then go home and kill my babies.”
Sam believed every word Amber said and was horrified by her story. “I’m sorry for how you were treated by Willy and his family.”
Amber waved a dismissive hand. “It was the least of what happened to me at that man’s hands. He’s a monster.” She looked over at Sam with weary eyes. “I did what I could to make sure he didn’t hurt that pregnant lady or her little boy while pretending to go along with him so he wouldn’t kill me.”
“That woman is my close friend, and her child is like a nephew to me.”
“I told him we shouldn’t go there, but he was determined to make Hill pay for what he did to us.”
“Do you know how Willy first met Agent Hill.”
“Willy’s cousin Lonnie brought him around. The Marsdens were as wicked as the Peckhams, if that’s even possible. Lonnie was tight with all the Peckhams, and they trusted him and his kin. So when Lonnie vouched for Jimmy Hill, as he was called, they were satisfied. They made him part of the family, took him hunting and fishing and invited him to their parties. Over time, Willy started to include him in some of the business stuff. He said Jimmy was smart and savvy. Willy liked him a lot, which was amazing because he didn’t like anyone except his own people.”
“How did he find out Jimmy was actually a federal agent named Avery Hill?”
“After twenty-two of them was arrested, including two of his three sons, one of his daughters, three of Willy’s brothers and six nephews. Willy said he was going to have Hill disemboweled the first chance he got.”
Sam cringed as she realized Avery was lucky he’d “only” been shot.
“He would’ve done it, too, if Hill had been home that night. Willy would’ve made his pretty wife watch when he gutted him like a pig.”
Thank God Avery had been in Cleveland, dealing with the case against Nick’s mother when the Peckhams broke into his home.
“What can you tell me about Willy’s son Harlan?”
She seemed surprised by the question. “What about him?”
“I understand he managed to elude prosecution.”
“Yes, he was never read his rights, so they dismissed the case against him.”
“He must’ve been pretty upset when his parents, siblings, uncles and cousins were locked up.”
“Hardly. He loved it. He was finally free of his father and could run his own operation, making use of the Peckham name to get things done. He was very busy while they were gone.”
“What else was he busy doing?”
“Mostly drugs. He’s a major meth dealer and has ventured into fentanyl, from what I’m told. I haven’t seen him in a while, thankfully. I was always terrified of him.”
Sam’s skin crawled at the mention of the poisonous substance that had killed Spencer. “What else can you tell me about Harlan?”
“Harlan is as mean as his father. He’s spent his whole life trying to get his father’s approval. He’s small for a man, and Willy was relentless about that, always after him for being a runt. Harlan turned himself into a machine so no one could ever screw with him, but even that didn’t impress his father. Nothing did.”
“Would killing the U.S. Attorney who put them in prison and trying to kill the FBI agent who built the case impress his father?”
The question brought Amber up short. “Are you saying he did that?”
“I’m asking if him doing that would impress his father.”
“I think it would. Willy hates the two of them—and the judge who presided over what Willy calls his sham of a trial. He blames them for everything.”
Sam glanced at Freddie, who would know she was telling him to make sure the judge was protected. Even as she had that thought, another one occurred to her. Perhaps they could use the judge to lure Harlan out of hiding.
Freddie got up and left the room.
“Where do you think Harlan is?”
“I’d be the last one to know where to find him. Other than making sure I was terrified of him, he’s hardly ever said a word to me.”
“Who would know where he is?”
“Maybe his brothers, Dusty and Bubba. The three of them are tight.”
“Where are they?”
“Probably back in Kentucky. They rarely leave home since they were released.”
“Do you know Harlan’s phone number?”
“He doesn’t have a phone. He never has.”
Sam couldn’t recall the last time she’d met someone who’d never had a cell phone. “How does he communicate?”
“I honestly don’t know. If he uses phones, it’s probably them throwaway kinds. He believes the government is using phones to keep tabs on people. That’s why he won’t have one.”
“What about Dusty and Bubba? Do they have phones?”
“I’m not sure. They tend to do whatever Harlan tells them to. They’re bigger than him, but he’s meaner.”
Lovely, Sam thought.
“Wh-what’s going to happen to me?” Amber asked. “I’ve told you what I know, like I said I would.”
“Let me talk to the Assistant U.S. Attorney and see what we can do.” Sam started for the door and then turned back. “Are you hungry?”
She shrugged as if she’d been hungry all her life. “I could eat something.”
“Any preferences?”
“Could I have some pizza?”
“You sure can. What do you like on it?”
“Just cheese, please.”
“How about a drink?”
“Is there Coke?”
“I can get you one.”
“Thank you for your kindness.”
“No problem.”
Sam met Faith in the hallway.
Faith shook her head. “What a horrifying story.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever met a better candidate for witness protection or something like that.”
“She could walk away with her kids and never look back if someone helped her. I’ll see what I can do for her.”
“Even though she didn’t really give us anything we can use in court?”
“You never know what she might be able to do for us in the future. It’d be in our best interest to keep her safe—if for no other reason than she hasn’t been safe a day in her life since Willy Peckham set his sights on her when she was still a girl.”
Freddie came down the hallway. “Judge Corrinne Sawyer presided over the Peckham trial in the U.S. District Court here in DC. She now sits on the DC Court of Appeals. I spoke to the admin in her office, explained I had an urgent security briefing for the judge, and she had Sawyer call me. I filled her in on what we know so far. She’s requesting added security for her home and office.”
“Good work. Would you please see about a cheese pizza and a Coke for Amber? There’s cash in the top left-hand drawer in my office.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks. Also, will you please issue the BOLO for Harlan Peckham?” Sam asked, referring to a “be on the lookout” alert. “I want everyone looking for him, especially Patrol in the Northwest quadrant. Make sure they know he’s armed and considered extremely dangerous.”
“Will do.”