Chapter 18
Gunner got emails later in the day from both Asher and Dylan with bank information for the money transfers to them, and Asher had gone to the trouble to get their dad’s information as well.
Gunner called his bank and asked for the president. Transferring amounts of that kind of money meant going straight to the big dog. But when he identified himself and asked for the president, his secretary launched into a full-blown fangirl moment regarding his takedown of Beau Whistler.
Gunner let her get it said, then asked again for her boss.
“Yes, of course. One moment.”
Gunner waited; he heard a click and then Rimmer’s voice.
“Mr. Kingston! Allow me to congratulate you on ending that FBI manhunt in a most remarkable way! Now, how can I help you?”
Gunner began to explain what he needed. “So, can we do this without me coming in? I look like I wrestled a bear and have the stitches and bruises to show for it. I’m also too sore to drive.”
“Bless your heart,” Mr. Rimmer said. “We can definitely do this for your father and your two brothers. It’s most generous of you, too.”
“They’re family,” Gunner said. “I have the tracking numbers and account numbers for their banks. Two are in Austin. One in Crossroads, Texas.”
“Are you comfortable reading them to me over the phone?” Rimmer asked.
“Yes, sir. Tell me when you’re ready.”
Gunner read out each brother’s given name, then the info for the bank, and then the same for his dad.
“Let me read these back to you,” Rimmer said and read aloud what he’d written down.
“Yes, sir. They’re all correct. How long will it take for the money to go through?”
“Oh, not long at all. You can check your account this afternoon and the transfers will show. And of course, check in with your family to let them know it was sent, so they can watch for it, too.”
“Thank you,” Gunner said. “Oh…and I’ll also be writing a personal check for fifty thousand to a coworker who needs some help. That’s all for now.”
“Of course. A pleasure doing business with you,” Rimmer said.
Gunner disconnected, pleased with his morning’s work, and went to see what food Holly left for him. He found scrambled eggs in a bowl in the fridge, and already baked biscuits on a covered plate beside the microwave.
“Thank you, sweet lady,” he said, then nuked the eggs, gave the biscuits a few seconds in the microwave, and sat down to eat.
By the time he finished, he knew he’d been up too long. He peeked in on her at work, blew her a kiss, and went back to bed, hoping that Beau Whistler was equally miserable facing the consequences of his actions.
* * *
Special Agent Lavinsky and his partner were in the interrogation room with Beauregard Whistler, taping their interview. A court-ordered attorney was sitting beside Whistler on the opposite side of the table.
Whistler was cuffed to the table, and his ankles were shackled.
He and his lawyer had already seen the video of Dixon’s last breath.
As far as he was concerned, it would have made a hell of a snuff film, and he didn’t know why they were so bent out of shape.
They wanted Dixon put away. He’d just done it for them.
“What was your job within Dixon’s organization?” Lavinsky asked.
“I wasn’t mopping floors and cleaning toilets, if that’s what you’re asking,” Whistler said.
“Did Dixon give you orders to get rid of people?” Lavinsky asked.
“You’re not very smart for a fed. What the hell makes you think I’d answer that? I’m already going down for this.”
“No problem,” Lavinsky said. “We’re about to interview an informant who claims to have info he’ll trade for.
We find that amusing, that an informant wants to make a deal with the FBI when he’s already nailed for selling information to Dixon that got other people killed.
Keep your seat. We’re not through with you,” he said.
Whistler frowned. He hadn’t counted on that. Damn snitch. He hated them.
* * *
When Lewinsky and his partner walked into the interrogation down the hall, Tom Rowdy was already sweating. His lawyer whispered something in his ear, and Rowdy settled.
Lavinsky sat down with the full intention of breaking this man and his secrets wide open. No cop ever wants to go to prison, and that’s where Rowdy was headed, but he was guessing the man was going to try to make them a deal.
They sat down and turned on the tape, went through the process of introducing the people in the room, and then began the questioning.
“Thomas Rowdy, you already know the charges you are facing…abetting in the murders of four of my special agents, one of whom was your brother-in-law; one attempted murder on a homicide detective in your own department; and selling confidential information to a crime lord.”
Rowdy was fidgeting. “I had no idea that would be the end result. It was never my intent to get anyone hurt.”
“What did you expect a man like Burgess Dixon was going to do with the information, then?” Lavinsky asked.
“We know you don’t do the dirty work. You’re just one of the toads of the world who sells their soul for money.
So, who wiped out the safe house? You remember the safe house.
You gave up the location for money, and made your sister a widow and left your two nephews without a father. ”
Rowdy stifled a moan and gave his lawyer a frantic look. “My wife left me. My sister disowned me,” he said.
“What did you expect? You destroyed their lives,” Lavinsky said.
“I can’t go to jail,” Rowdy said. “I’ll be dead in a month.”
Lavinsky nodded. “Likely so…just like all those people you gave up to Dixon. It’s called karma.”
“I know who pulled the trigger on all of it. Even Garza and Letourneau.”
Lavinsky frowned. “Who are Garza and Letourneau?”
“Two of Dixon’s men who were supposed to bury Freddie Welsh’s body where even God couldn’t find it, and instead, they got high and dumped the body in some warehouse. Dixon sent his man to deal with them. If I give you his name, what’s it worth to me?” Rowdy asked.
“You gave up Kingston, your own coworker, and a manhunt and bounty on his head ensued. Fortunately for Kingston, he survived it.”
“I want to make a deal,” Rowdy said.
“I’ve already caught all the people involved,” Lavinsky said. “You don’t have squat to sell me.”
“You don’t have Beau Whistler. He’s the trigger man for everything. I’ll give you everything I know about him if you’ll put me in an out-of-state prison.”
“Actually, I do have Beau Whistler. We had an ongoing manhunt for him, and Gunner Kingston caught him for us. He’s in the room next door, claiming guilt only on the death of Dixon.”
“If I testify against him, would that get me out of a Texas penitentiary?”
“I’d have to talk to my people.”
“I’ll do it. I swear to God, I’ll do it,” Rowdy said.
Lavinsky frowned. “I don’t know how far your testimony would go, considering the depth of your guilt in all of it. Who’s going to trust you? They’ll assume you’re lying for a lighter sentence.”
“Then I’m dead,” Rowdy said.
“That’s something you’ve caused, and your welfare in prison is out of my control,” Lavinsky said. “I have four dead agents, four widows, and an accumulation of nine children between them now without their fathers. They’re my concern.”
Rowdy’s lawyer whispered in his ear again.
Rowdy leaned forward. “There’s more connected to your case that you don’t know about.
Whistler did the hit and run on Dan Helford.
Yankee Dan, the man who found Freddie Welsh’s body.
He didn’t know anything, but Dixon didn’t like loose ends.
It’s also why he put the hit out on Gunner Kingston.
He was the man who took Yankee Dan’s statement.
” Rowdy dropped his head and started crying. “I’ll testify.”
“Even without a deal?” Lavinsky asked.
He nodded. “Even without a deal.”
“Why?” Lavinsky asked.
“If I do the right thing, maybe God will forgive me. I know I’m going to jail and will likely not survive it. But I do not want to go to hell. I’ll testify against Whistler.”
Lavinsky nodded. “Interrogation ends at 4:44 p.m.” Then he and his partner got up and walked out and back up the hall to Whistler.
They walked in and took a seat and started the tape again. Introduced themselves again, noted the time, and then began with more questions.
“Mr. Whistler, charges are being added to your existing one. You are also being charged with the murders of four FBI agents, a federal witness, the murders of Garza and Letourneau, the hit-and-run murder of Dan Helford, also known as Yankee Dan, and collaboration in the attempted murder of Gunner Kingston.”
Whistler felt the blood run out of his face. Son of a bitch. Rowdy gave me up because he knew I couldn’t get to him.
“So, you gave Rowdy a deal to lie about me? How far do you think that will go with a jury?”
“Oh, he isn’t getting a deal. We don’t make deals with killers, or the people who abet them. He has no illusions about his future. He just doesn’t want to go to hell when he dies.”
Whistler blinked. He never saw that coming. “I got nothing more to say. We’re done here.”
“Yes, yes you are. You are so done here, and so are we. We’ll see you in court.”
They walked out, and for the first time in his life, Whistler didn’t have a Plan B.
* * *
Gunner woke just after 5:00 p.m., glanced at the time, and then groaned. “I’m turning into Rip van Winkle.”
He rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom mirror. The bruise on his jaw was so purple it was almost black, but it didn’t feel as stiff as it had been. The ice packs were helping.
He combed his fingers through his hair, picked up the ice pack on his pillow, and took it to the kitchen to refreeze it.
He was kind of hungry, but there was a note from Holly on the counter telling him she’d gone home to pack some clothes and would bring dinner to his house, so he opted for a cold pop and a couple of cookies and headed to the living room with his snack.