Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cain got the lowdown from Earl Millerton as to how the tow truck call-outs were handled, then he headed home.
His late-night talk with Shadow coupled with the before-sunrise meeting with JB had put a hole in his sleep.
Both had been eye-opening, but neither had given him all the answers.
In fact, JB had been blunt about not planning to divulge any of Betsy’s personal life, not even when Cain had shared his informant’s warning.
At least one good thing had come out of stopping by the auto dealership this morning though. Now, besides working on his truck as a reason to show up around Peyton’s, Betsy had hired him as a part-time employee. From the looks of things, he had added a lot to his plate.
Tonight, he’d write his official resignation letter for the DEA, but he wouldn’t send it right now. He was still thinking about that decision. But, at least, he’d have the paperwork done and waiting for when—and if— he decided to quit the Agency.
After installing one of the two kitchen cabinets he’d put on his schedule for today, he opted for an early lunch and a few hours of shuteye. Who knew when tonight’s shift might end. He made it back to Peyton’s just as the freezing rain started to glaze the roads.
The weatherman had been right, rain and falling temps had rolled into the area right as forecast. Trouble was, even though Crayton wasn’t big by any means, it still had traffic problems. Plus some people were out on the four-lane divided highway trying to make it home from Jefferson City almost an hour away.
For the past twenty minutes, Betsy and her primary competition in town, Hal “The Hat” Boone, had laid out the towing map for the evening. Teams had been assigned. Thermoses filled. Sack lunches handed out.
Cain learned he was to tag team with Randy something-or-other, a part-timer from the used car lot down the road.
They’d concentrate on the north outer limits of the town, including the rural area in that vicinity.
Most of the ditch pulls would be from that direction, and sometimes that’s all that was needed for the driver to be on their way again.
By the time the meeting ended, calls from stranded motorists were already coming in.
Everyone scattered outside, headed to their rigs for what would be a long night.
Cain’s instincts said that Randy wasn’t going to be a high producer for the evening. The mid-twenties guy was fully capable, but maturity seemed to be on hold. He appeared to be in it for some fast money and nothing else.
“Hey, let me grab a coat from my truck.” Randy opened the driver’s side door and yanked out an orange insulated jacket. “I got another coat if you need one. ’Cause you sure want to have some reflective yellow or orange on you when you’re working the side of the road.”
“Thanks, but Earl gave me a safety vest earlier today.” Besides which, Cain didn’t much care for wearing other people’s stuff. Especially one that had a skunky body-odor scent. “Hey, man. You smoking weed?”
Randy reached in his coat pocket and eased out the corner of a plastic bag just enough to be seen. “Not today. But I got something even better if you need it.”
Cain’s first thought was to haul the guy in to the police.
His second thought was that there’d been times he’d had to look the other way in his time with the DEA.
Tonight might be another. Look the other way and get the bigger fish.
“No, I’m good. Just don’t be doing that stuff tonight. These roads are gonna get dicey.”
“I ain’t that crazy. Work and weed don’t mix.” Randy walked over to the first wrecker in line, jumped inside and sped away.
Cain eased behind the wheel of his assigned truck and tucked his thermos of coffee in the seat beside him. He considered going back inside to let Earl or Betsy know the situation with Randy. Then again, he worked for one of the dealerships, so someone had to know the man and his vices.
Maybe Betsy overlooked things like this too. Deliberately? Unknowingly? He’d sure hate to think she was an enabler. Cain turned the key in the ignition. Maybe he was going a little over the top on being the good guy.
Distress calls started hitting his scanner within minutes of being on the road.
His first call went fast and easy—out of the ditch and on their way.
So did the second. Same with the third. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard and figured he’d been out close to two hours.
The actual work didn’t amount to that much, it was the drive between locations that ate up the time.
During the past hour, the roads had gotten worse. Snow had started falling, which meant icy patches would be hard to read for a driver.
His cell phone rang with Betsy’s ID. “Yeah, this is Cain.”
“How’s it going?”
“Good.”
“Have you heard from Randy lately?”
“I haven’t been in contact with him since we left Peyton’s. I just keep getting calls transferred to me,” Cain said. “Something wrong?”
Betsy sighed loud and heavy. “He’s one of Hal’s men and, well…”
Her pause lasted long enough to let him read her hesitation to put her thoughts into words.
“You’re not sure you can trust him?” Cain asked.
“Something like that,” she sighed. “Since he’s not one of my employees, I don’t see him very often.”
“I had that same thought on the way out. You want me to try to find him?” Cain wished he’d followed his first instincts about the guy.
“I’m probably just overreacting. A couple months ago I tried to talk him into rehab. Even offered to pay for it. Maybe this—”
A phone rang in the background on her end.
“Let me get this other call,” Betsy said.
Cain kept driving. Since you never knew where the next call might come from, the wreckers just kept moving, slow and steady. Besides, there were still people without cell phones, and you might spot someone alongside the road who needed help.
Off to his right, headlights blazed upward from a deep ravine-type ditch. He pulled onto the shoulder and pushed the flasher button. Grabbing his phone and flashlight as he left the truck, he followed the tire marks over the embankment.
Scanning the light down the hill, he caught a glimpse of a tire crashed into thick brush. He jabbed the speaker phone button. “Betsy? Betsy.”
Nothing. He was still on hold. He slid down the incline on his back which did nothing to keep him dry and warm, but was a hell of a lot safer than trying to walk the slick snow.
At the bottom, he jumped to his feet. From where he stood, he could see the outline of what looked like an overturned tow truck.
“Damn it.” He swept the surroundings with the beam as he started forward. “Randy? Randy, can you hear me?”
“Cain, are you still there?” Betsy’s voice came through the phone. “Why are you calling for Randy?”
A loud moan came from the edge of the tree line and Cain ran to the sound.
He zeroed in on the moan as he ran, and then knelt next to the body lying in the snow.
Turning him over, Cain saw the blood on the shirt before he shined the flashlight in Randy’s face.
Looking back at him were the eyes and expression of a man high as hell.
“Betsy, call an ambulance to my GPS location stat. Randy’s crashed down the side of a ravine.
” Cain shucked out of his coat, spreading it to cover the man.
He quickly strapped the yellow safety vest back over his shirt.
“Man, you said you were clean tonight. Said work and weed didn’t mix, and I trusted you. ”
Randy grabbed into the air, chasing something in the vacant sky. “That’s right...don’t do weed and work...” His words were slurred.
“I think you’re lying to me.” Cain tried to locate the source of the blood, hard to do without moving him. His priority was to keep the man talking and warm till the paramedics arrived.
“Swear to Old Crow...I wouldn’t lie to you.” Randy tried to push himself up on his elbow but slid back down, half laughing as his shoulder hit the ground. “Nooooo weed... Had me a little junk.”
“Heroin? You’re pumped on heroin?”
“Yeah, man. Got me some good dope tonight.” Randy’s eyes rolled backward.