Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The silence said everything Cain needed to know.
In hindsight, he should have kept up on Crayton.
Might be too late for what had just transpired in the conference room, but tomorrow he’d spend some time on the Internet catching up on the past twelve years.
He doubted Betsy would be the only one whose life had felt the ups and down of living.
JB headed down the hallway. “When she’s ready she’ll tell you anything else she wants you to know. Don’t give up on her.”
“You told me that last night.”
“Well, I’m telling you again.” JB let the door close behind him as he headed to the parking lot, then he suddenly popped his hand out to stop it. “And since you’re all about knowing the particulars about the people you work with, me and you will talk about Kennett when I get some time.”
“Way ahead of you on that one. I Googled his name and that assignment. Damn shame,” Cain said.
“You got that right,” JB mumbled as he let the door completely close this time.
Heading back into the conference room, Cain ran into Betsy as she was headed out.
Suddenly the doorway seemed too small for the two of them.
She reached out to steady herself against his chest, and he could swear he felt her heat all the way from the top of his jacket to his skin.
She’d rejected his offer of dinner last night, didn’t mean his body got the message.
She stepped back. “What’s a shame?”
Should he tell her what he’d found out about Kennett? Part of him said follow his age-old belief to keep his mouth shut unless absolutely necessary. Another part told him she needed to know, especially if she decided to help the police with their plan for staking out her dealership.
“Why don’t we talk about what the police have in mind for you and Peyton’s.” He swooped his hand in the direction of the conference room.
“Okay.” She grabbed a bottled water from the mini fridge in the conference room and offered it to him. Plus, a small orange juice for herself. “What’s the plan?”
Over the next ten minutes Cain explained the police theory on places Earl and the man at the house party might have picked up the dope. That led to the DEA report Cain had read on Midwest auto dealerships being prime targets for major drug deals.
“Long story short, JB called Sheriff Davis with an idea. Ends up, before the attempt on his life, the sheriff had already been talking to one of the DEA agents assigned to this region. They’d figured out a drug runner was marking a trail across the state. Directly through this county.
“Your uncle and the agent talked about using Peyton’s to lure the guy to this area and set a trap but decided against the idea.
” Cain paused long enough to down his bottle of water.
“At the time the DEA agent didn’t think Crayton had enough of a drug problem to make it plausible the guy would even pay attention to the small town.
Last night put a whole different spin on things. ”
Sipping on her orange juice, she seemed perfectly fine with everything being said, while he almost hoped she wouldn’t agree to the stakeout.
This wasn’t about some small-town dealer who sold a few bags now and then.
They were talking about someone big trying to move in.
Someone who reported to a drug captain, or might even be the one reporting to the lieutenant in the region.
“What would I have to do?” she asked.
“You wouldn’t do anything. The police, along with the help of the DEA, would handle everything. Really, half the work is done. Peyton’s already has a big reputation in mid-Missouri, plus Crayton sits pretty much center of Interstate 70 and I-44.”
She wandered around the room. “You know if it were just a question of my own safety, I’d say yes in a heartbeat. But I’ve got a lot of customers to think about.”
The police had taken that into consideration when they laid out the plan back at headquarters, but for the moment he needed to let her think this through herself.
Putting yourself on the line was one thing.
Putting others in danger was a whole other thing.
Right now, he was mad at himself for agreeing to this idea in the first place.
“Peyton’s gets a lot of families who stop by to see what’s new.
People who’ve got nothing better to do on Sunday afternoon than walk around looking at cars they’ll never have the money to buy.
” At least she hadn’t just blurted out yes without thinking about repercussions.
“I need your assurance I won’t be doing anything that might get them hurt. ”
He certainly agreed with her concerns, but didn’t see them as insurmountable.
At least not for the moment. “The DEA agent who’d been working with Sheriff Davis said the drug runner liked to make his deals at car lots after closing.
Makes sense. Their cars would blend in with the inventory, and anyone going by would think they were customers looking at cars after hours. ”
“That’s the problem. A lot of my customers and lookie-loos come around in the evening on the way home from work.”
Cain wouldn’t keep anything from her, nor would he mislead her.
There were other places they could station their stakeout.
Maybe not as good a spot as Peyton’s, but still, other places.
He didn’t want her to end up in the middle of a sting gone bad.
Of course, this wasn’t his call. She was the one on the line.
“Sit down, Betsy. Let’s talk off the record,” Cain said.
“Okay.” She took the chair across from him.
Cain wished he could reach out and put his hand on hers, but the table was too wide. And they were too far apart on a personal level for him to move beside her. She’d made her feelings known, and any moving forward for them would have to come from her. He didn’t see that happening any time soon.
“Here’s the thing,” Cain said. “You know Officer Kennett.”
She nodded.
“Before he moved here, he lived on the outskirts of Chicago. Worked undercover in a nearby major city. The police had a sting set up at an auto dealership to catch gun runners. Everything worked just as planned, until one of the undercovers got recognized. Things went south fast.” He sucked in a breath and blew it out.
“Hostages were grabbed. SWAT had to go in. Things got messy.”
Cain had been in those situations. Knew the chaos hostages felt as the final moments unfolded. More than once, he’d shielded someone’s body with his own and taken a bullet as payment. He swallowed down the thoughts.
“What happened?”
“The owner of the dealership was wounded. Two suspects were killed trying to escape. And two hostages were rescued.” Cain paused.
Sucked in a deep breath. “A woman waiting in the television lounge, after her car had been towed to the service center, was hit by a stray bullet coming through the wall behind her. She was the third fatality.”
Betsy leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling before closing her eyes. “Tell me they got the rest of the gang.”
“For the most part.”
She glanced back across the table. “I always wondered what Kennett’s story was. Figured sooner or later he’d tell people. Must have been hard being part of that. Maybe that’s why he moved here and took on cruiser duty.”
Cain rubbed his palm down his face. Tell her your story.
Your day. Your assignment that crashed and burned.
No. Now was not the time. Maybe never. Depending on how this case all washed out in the end.
Betsy’s cooperation felt genuine. But many’s the time the lawbreaker thought to cover their back by working with the police or DEA or whoever was closing in on their operation.
Besides, how would telling her change his aftereffects.
Dreams. Nightmares. Regrets. Losses. Self-blame.
The telling would change absolutely nothing.
Maybe it could help him explain his reason for the line he’ll never cross?
Maybe. Maybe not. That day had not been a mistake, but the memory’s heavy load was hard to carry.
When had life become so difficult? That day. That second. That…
“Some takedowns go off like clockwork. Others shatter into a million pieces.” His insides burned like the touch of dry ice. “They both stay with you. But one of them leaves a vise-grip on your brain.”
He struggled not to divulge his worst day. Struggled and won.
Betsy eased up from her chair and reached across the table, stretching to rest her hand on top of his clinched fist. The warmth of the touch lasted only a moment, and then she leaned back in her chair.
His mind fuzzed with the thought they’d just shared a moment.
What was that about? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Friends shared moments all the time. She turned her head trying not to let him see her wipe the corners of her eyes.
Friends did that too. Or maybe she knew exactly how those emotional vise-grips linger.
“Okay. I’ll do it. Set up your stakeout. Pull in whatever you need.” She braced her hands on the table. “Let’s get the dealer who sold this dope off the street.”
“Works for me.” He got to his feet, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.
This was about more than the dealer. This was about the region’s organization.
“One more thing. Somebody needs to be in the service center to see what’s going on during the day.
Pick up on what’s being said. See if you’ve got a bad apple working for you. ”
She stood up and met his stare. “Sounds good. I’ll just tell the workers that I need someone to fill in for Earl while he’s in the hospital. Who are you sending?”
“Me.”
“No. You may know a little car repair, but we do big stuff around here and…” A tinge of pink brushed her cheeks. “And I’m sure you’ve got a lot of other things you’d rather be doing than babysitting my cars.”