Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Eight o’clock the next morning, and once again Cain sat in the chair next to Evans and Kennett while JB sat behind his desk. All of them looked like sleep had been non-existent last night. Cain knew it had been for him. Plus, he still didn’t have answers about Betsy from JB.
His DEA boss had called JB to get details on the case Crayton wanted help on at the moment. After a lengthy question and answer conversation between the three of them on a conference call, his boss agreed to Cain consulting with them.
At this point all the men sitting around him could do was brainstorm. Take the info on everything from the two events last night and see how they matched up in any way. Turn it upside-down. Shake the tree. See what, if anything, fell out.
Cain wrote down a few more details in his notes. Peyton’s Automotives. Earl worked there. Kennett reached over and added that Steven sometimes picked up odd jobs around the lot.
“Are you two geniuses going to share with the rest of us?” Deputy Evans glared at Kennett and Cain, making sure his tone hit the point that there’d be no secrets.
The deputy was known for his to-the-point attitude when it came to business, but if you met him on the street during downtime, he was carefree as a kite in an uplifting lazy breeze.
“Might not be anything, but Earl works at Peyton’s, and evidently his son makes spending money there, too.” Cain bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to remember what all was in a report he’d recently read on drug deal targets in the Midwest.
“So?”
Cain tossed his pen on the table. “A few months ago, I read a report on drug runners using auto dealerships as drop points because it was so easy to blend in as a customer. So that scenario jumped out in my mind. You know…Peyton’s, Steven, his dad, the report. I thought maybe—”
“Betsy would never tolerate anyone using her lot for drug deals. Never.” The look JB shot him across the table would have leveled him if it had been a fist.
Deputy Evans pointed his pen at Cain. “You need to mark that idea right off your list.”
Obviously the two men had jumped to the wrong conclusion.
They seemed to think Cain was accusing Peyton’s, and Betsy in particular, of being part of the whole corrupt arrangement.
Nothing had been further from his mind. Innocent people unknowingly ended up in a bind all the time because of crooks surreptitiously using them to hawk their own crimes.
“That’s not what I said.” Cain didn’t like having his words twisted. Especially where other law enforcement was concerned.
The deputy wadded up a piece of paper and made a three-point shot at the trash can in the corner. “Well, that’s what it sounded like.”
JB hadn’t said anything further, but the clench of his jaw spoke loud and clear. What was Cain missing? What had he missed in the years he’d been gone from Crayton? But he for sure wasn’t marking the idea off his list.
Kennett mumbled to himself, then folded his hands on the table.
“Let me give it a try. First, as Evans and JB already know, I worked undercover up in Illinois before I moved here. At one point I was assigned to an auto dealership because we’d tracked the runners to their lot.
” He paused, walked over and poured himself more coffee, before taking his seat again.
“I think Cain’s trying to say we might be able to use Peyton’s to set a trap. ”
The tension in JB’s face eased as he glanced at Cain, then turned his attention to Kennett. “Is that where—”
“Yeah.” Swallowing hard with his coffee, Kennett’s hand had a slight tremble as he set his cup down.
“The same place the report talked about in Illinois?” Cain asked.
“Yeah.” The patrolman straightened his collar, then stared at the wall. He intertwined his fingers in front of him, clenching them so tight they appeared to lose all blood flow.
Cain prided himself on reading people and situations.
The idea that dynamics could turn on a dime or a word made sense in the world of law enforcement.
This conversation was filled with enough innuendos and loopholes to sink a boat.
“That went down hard, if I remember correctly. Weren’t there some hostages taken at one point? ”
“Yeah. The whole assignment crashed and burned. Before it was over, there were three dead.”
“You closed down a drug lieutenant as I recall. At least that was something.” Cain realized Evans and JB were looking down, studying the papers in front of them as if their lives depended on it. “How long ago was that?”
Kennett rubbed his thumb across the empty ring finger on his left hand. “Two years. Five months. One week. And six days.”
In that moment, Cain wished he hadn’t asked, because something told him Kennett could have even given a count up to the exact minute. Anyone who worked law enforcement was still a person, and sooner or later there would be an assignment that grabbed your gut and didn’t let go.
He could tell Kennett had a story. Cain had stories, too. Some he never shared. Others turned his memories to scalding thoughts that never burned out.
JB smoothed the papers in front of him as if pressing wrinkles on a shirt, except there were no wrinkles. “We’ll keep this open as an option, but let’s see what else we’ve got on the table.”
By the end of the next hour, the men came to a consensus that the Peyton’s Automotives idea was the best plan.
Even Sheriff Davis had agreed when they talked to him by speaker phone.
None of them were all that happy with going the Peyton’s route, but figured they’d be able to protect the lot with surveillance after hours.
Cain hadn’t shared his contact with Shadow with anyone but JB. Even then, he hadn’t mentioned his contact’s name or any other info. Not even the exact specifics on Betsy. In fact, there really weren’t many specifics to share.
“Before we go any further, we need to ask Betsy if she’ll even consider the stakeout,” JB said. “I’ll arrange a meeting for this afternoon with Betsy at Peyton’s. Evans, you don’t have to do the asking, but I’d like you to be there to discuss police protection for the dealership.”
The deputy nodded.
JB turned his attention toward Cain. “Since your DEA boss gave permission on you consulting with the Crayton Police Department, can you be there at three o’clock?”
“Me? I don’t know about that.” Cain had hoped not to be involved with the actual stakeout.
Making calls had been one thing, but being part of the setup was totally different.
“I’ve given you everything you need to carry out the job.
Besides, I don’t think Betsy would take kindly to me being in on an official meeting about her business. ”
JB braced his hands on his desk and leaned forward, glaring at Cain. “Oh, get over it. What the hell? She turned you down. Now suck it up and get on board with the plan. Or did you lose your nerve?”
Cain shot to his feet. “You better watch where you’re leaning, man. ’Cause I’m not your lap dog.” He walked to the door, had his hand on the knob. “We’re done talking.”
“Fine. I thought you were volunteering when you said there needed to be eyes on Betsy and the dealership during the work hours.” JB straightened, sarcasm lacing his tone. “Guess I was wrong.”
Cain slammed the door open. Stopped in the doorway.
He and JB had sparred all their life. One jab after the other—football, girls, words, actions, fists.
He felt the roll of his fingers inward, but he didn’t tighten them.
They were both grown men, each fighting to get what they wanted out of the situation.
Of course, the only way JB got what he needed was if Cain agreed to work at Peyton’s.
He blew out a cheek-puffing breath, then turned and walked back into the office.
“You know, you and me are this close to going a few rounds at the gym.” Cain held up his thumb and index finger less than an inch apart.
“Any time.” JB clenched his jaw and stared his stare. “Cut to the chase, what’s it gonna be? You in on this all the way?”
A million reasons to ignore the taunt rushed through Cain’s mind.
Not one of them could replace the image of Betsy’s smile when she thought she’d won the pool game.
The way she’d kissed his cheek. Even if she didn’t want to be with him, he still couldn’t bring himself to desert her in what could be a dangerous situation.
“Might as well. I’ve already been working on my truck there.
I’ll keep an eye on Betsy. And I’ll make sure none of the customers as much as stub their toe.
The rest of this play is on the police.” Cain walked out the door of the office already knowing that his last statement wouldn’t hold water.
He was in on everything about this case. Everything.
“Thanks. By the way…I owe you another one,” JB shouted from the doorway.
Cain didn’t even acknowledge the comment. He was too hellfire mad. At JB. At himself. And at ever coming back to Crayton.
Kicking himself for agreeing to help, he jumped into his truck and sat. He should go back in and quit right now. Tell them to get another consultant. Then again, they did need help. This time he knew the boundaries he’d set for himself. He’d known them last time too.
He turned the key in the ignition. One thing for sure, he might help the police with this stakeout, but no way in hell would he ever walk into a family drug cartel again.
Never again stand in front of the head man, knowing he had slim to no chance of leaving alive.
Knowing the two choices he had. Turn. Or die.
The only thing that had saved him that day had been the quick thinking of another agent so deeply embedded he’d already kissed any chance of a normal life goodbye.
Cain figured a man only had so many free passes in life, and he doubted he had any left after that night.
Still, he sometimes wondered what his answer would have been if the cavalry hadn’t come charging in at the last minute.
Would he have traded his ethics for his life? Or his life for his reputation?
He’d never know that answer. He’d never put himself in that position again. He’d made himself a promise to never again risk everything.
His cell phone rang, and he answered before the first ringtone ended. “This is Cain.”
“This is Joanie. I’m over at the pool and pub side of the restaurant. I’ve got a special-order pizza waiting here for you.”
“For me? I didn’t order a pizza.” Cain glanced at the clock. It was barely 9:30 on a cloudy Saturday morning. “Especially this early in the day.”
“You’re telling me.” Joanie sighed. “Less than an hour ago, I was greeting all the breakfast customers at my café next door. Next thing I know, this guy sitting at the end of the counter slips me an envelope with your name on it and a hundred-dollar bill. Said you were a little busy last night, and he didn’t get to say hello.
Thought you might like a pizza first thing this morning. ”
Cain appreciated the gesture. “Listen it’s a little early for pizza. Why don’t you give that to the first customer at the bar today?”
“Don’t think I can do that,” Joanie said, almost as quiet as a whisper. “The man told me to double box the pizza and put the envelope between them. Said he trusted me.”
Cain didn’t need to ask, but he did. “Who was it?”
“Don’t know his name. I just think of him as the guy in the white Stetson who orders jalapeno pizza.”
“I’ll be there in a couple minutes. And Joanie, I trust you, too.”