Chapter 12 #2
Avery looked past him to four men advancing on them, each carrying military-grade rifles with banana clips capable of holding thirty rounds of ammunition each.
The man in the lead, sporting a long brown beard, a camouflage hat and overalls, spoke, “Come out in the open, or I will.”
Grant pushed through the brush and emerged into the clearing.
The bearded man waved his rifle toward the woods. “Your girlfriend, too.”
Avery remained motionless.
“If you don’t come out,” the man said, “I’ll shoot your boyfriend first, then come after you.”
Avery rose, her hands held high. “No need for violence,” she said as she eased through the underbrush. “I’m Agent Hart with the FBI.”
“You hear that, Roy?” the bearded man said. “We got us some feds snooping around our private property. What should we do with them?”
“Shoot ’em,” Roy responded. “Don’t matter if they’re feds or Jehovah’s Witnesses, they’re trespassing.”
Bearded guy looked to Grant. “You got a warrant?”
Grant shook his head. “No, we don’t.”
“All the more reason to shoot ’em,” Roy said and spat tobacco on the ground at Grant’s feet.
“Randy Smolka, what the hell are you thinking?” a woman’s voice sounded from the direction of the house.
Moments later, a short, plump pregnant lady appeared around the side of the barn.
She marched up to the group of men, waving her hand.
“Seriously? Are you trying to get us killed? Put those rifles away. We don’t need to give the sheriff, Texas Rangers or DEA an excuse to raid our facility and shut us down. ”
The men, each at least a foot taller than the woman, shifted where they stood and lowered their rifles to point at the ground.
Randy squared his shoulder, his eyes narrowing at Grant and Avery. “They’re trespassing on private property.”
“And if you shoot one, they’ll yank our license, and you’ll likely go to jail.” The woman turned to Grant and Avery and stuck out a hand. “I’m Lucy Smolka. This idiot is my husband, Randy, and the others are his brothers. And you are?”
Grant took the woman’s hand. “Grant Hayes, and this is Avery Hart.”
“They say they’re with the FBI,” Randy said.
“All the more reason to be friendly, not threatening.” Lucy held out her hand to Avery.
“Don’t you mind my husband. Ever since we got a license to grow hemp, they’ve been on edge.
Some of the kids in town think it’s a license to grow marijuana and have sneaked into our greenhouse and damaged our plants.
Thus, the early warning system they’ve rigged around the place.
” She looked from Grant to Avery. “Were you sent to investigate our operation?” Her brow furrowed.
“The TDA was here three weeks ago, testing. Aren’t they the only ones responsible for administering and regulating Hemp production in the state? ”
Avery stepped forward. “Actually, we’re working on a murder investigation.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “The one involving the three women they found recently?” She stepped closer to her husband. “You don’t think we’re involved, do you?”
Avery shook her head. “No, ma’am. But we’re looking for places where the killer could hold the women before killing them.”
Lucy raised a hand to her throat. “You think he’s somewhere close by?” She glanced up at Randy.
The man slipped an arm around his wife’s waist. “We won’t let him get near you.”
“Now I’m glad you have all those booby traps surrounding our home,” Lucy said. “Why did you think to look here? We’re not murderers. We just grow hemp for medicinal use.”
“Do you know of any place in the vicinity where someone might have brewed beer or whiskey a long time ago?” Grant asked.
“Someplace inside a building?” Avery added. “Maybe a basement?”
Lucy shook her head. “We’ve only had the property for four years. Moved up from Uvalde because there were too many water restrictions, and we needed water to grow our crop.”
“Is there a basement on your property?” Avery asked.
Lucy nodded. “Yes. But it’s just barely big enough to store my canning supplies and canned goods.
You’re welcome to check it out. Hell, you’re welcome to look all over the property.
Lord, I hate to think the killer is among us.
Randy, show them around. I have a pot of potatoes on the stove, probably boiling over, or I’d do it myself. ”
“Roy,” Randy nodded toward the man. “Go with Lucy.”
Roy nodded and walked with the pregnant Lucy around the side of the barn.
“I’ll show you around, but you won’t find a killer here. We have surveillance cameras installed all over the place. We’d know if someone breached our perimeter.” He held out his hand. “All I ask is that you let me hold onto your gun during the tour.”
“Fair enough.” Grant pulled the handgun from his waistband and handed it to Randy.
Avery suspected the tour would be a dead end, but went along with Randy as he led them into the barn, opening the doors to the tack rooms and storage rooms. She saw no sign of hidden doors or felt any false flooring covering a basement.
He took them through the greenhouse where they cultivated the hemp plant starts using lights strung from the ceiling to encourage fast growth.
The floor was hard-packed dirt.
Lastly, he led them to the house and the trapdoor Avery had suspected led to a basement below the house.
He spun the combination lock and rolled the tumblers until the lock disengaged and he could remove it.
“There’s also a staircase from the kitchen into the cellar.
We can use the space as a storm shelter in case of tornadoes, but it’ll be tight.
Standing room only.” He waved a hand. “You’re welcome to see for yourself. ”
Grant shot a glance toward Avery. “I’ll go.” He was down and back up in less than a minute. “You’re right. It’s small.”
Avery held out a hand. “Mr. Smolka, we apologize for disturbing you and your family. We’re just trying to explore all avenues to capture the killer before he takes another victim.”
“I hope you find him. I’ll be sure to keep Lucy on a short leash until you do.”
“Leash my ass.” Lucy rounded the corner of the house. “But yes, I’ll be stuck to him like glue.” Her hand rubbed over her swollen belly. “If not a killer on the loose, we’re getting close to our delivery date. All the more reason for him to shadow my every move.”
“Thank you for being patient with us,” Grant said. “If you see or hear anything that just isn’t right, don’t hesitate to contact the sheriff’s department. We’re working closely with him and his crew.”
“We will,” Randy said, gathering his wife close. “It’s getting dark. Do you want one of us to take you back to your vehicle?”
Grant’s lips quirked. “Thanks, but we’ll make it fine if we walk on the road, not through the woods.”
“Combat experience?” Randy asked as he handed Grant his gun.
“Navy SEAL.” Grant nodded toward Randy’s AR-15. “You?”
Randy nodded. “Airborne Ranger. Three tours to Afghanistan.”
Grant held out his hand. “Be vigilant.”
“We will.” Randy shook Grant’s hand. He and Lucy stood beside their home as Grant and Avery walked away.
“Not the place,” Avery stated, though Grant had seen it himself. “At this rate, the killer might already have his next victim, while we’re touring homeless encampments and hemp farms.”
“We’ll check in with Melissa and Bree when we get back to town. Maybe they found more information on breweries than what Cook gave us. We still have a couple of his suggestions to check out.”
“Do you want to get the one we bypassed on the way out here?”
“Though I’m hesitant to show up unannounced at night, we might sneak in like we did here.” He reached for her hand as they stepped over a water-filled pothole. On the other side of the obstacle, he didn’t release her hand, nor did she pull free.
She liked it when he held her hand. It could mean something. Or nothing. She preferred to go with something.
Back at the car, he held the door for her and waited until she was seated inside before he rounded to the driver’s door and slid inside.
He’d just pulled out onto the highway when headlights appeared behind them.
Avery glanced over her shoulder, the lights blinding her. “He needs to dim his lights.”
“Yeah. And slow down.” Grant increased their speed. “I think he’s going to pass.” Avery noted the curve in the road ahead. “Curve ahead,” she warned.
Grant slowed.
Avery expected the trailing car to pass.
“Fuck,” Grant muttered. “He’s too close.”
The impact sent Avery lunging forward. The seatbelt across her chest kept her from slamming into the dash.
The rental car swerved and dove over the shoulder and down into a shallow ditch.
Grant held onto the steering wheel and fought for control as the SUV that had run into them sped past.
Grant gunned the accelerator and turned the wheel sharply, sending the car back up onto the shoulder and the pavement beyond.
Avery held on to the armrest, glad for the belt securing her to her seat. Once the car was back on the road, she stared at the taillights ahead of them. “If you catch up, we can get the license plate.”
Grant smashed his foot on the accelerator. The car shot forward, gaining on the other.
As they neared, brake lights flashed bright red.
Grant slammed on the brakes, but not soon enough to avoid the collision. The rental car smacked into the back of the other vehicle, sending it shooting past the shoulder, through a fence and into a telephone pole on the other side.
On impact, the driver’s door burst open and the person inside was flung from his seat.
Grant brought the rental car to a stop on the shoulder. He fished the gun off the floorboard and leaped from his seat.
Avery met him at the hood of their car and ran with him toward the crashed vehicle and the man lying on the ground.
The headlights of the rental car shone across the scene.
The man lay on his back, unmoving.
When Avery stepped out of the headlight beams allowing the glow to shine on the man’s face, she gasped.
“You recognize him?” Grant asked.
“I think he might be one of the hitmen who worked for the Miami Elite.”
Grant bent over the still figure and touched his fingers to the base of the man’s throat. For a long moment, he held his fingers there. Finally, he straightened. “He’s got a pulse.”
Avery pulled her phone from her pocket and called 911. She reported the accident and asked to be connected with the sheriff.
“Sheriff Taylor,” he answered.
“Agent Hart, here,” she said. “We had a vehicular altercation with a man I suspect was a hitman for the Miami Elite.” She gave him the location.
“Ambulance is on the way,” the sheriff said. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”
While Grant and Avery waited, Grant handed Avery his gun. “I’ll be right back.” He returned to the rental and came back with his cell phone. After snapping a photo of the man’s face, he sent it to Swede to run it through facial recognition to get a more definitive ID on the guy.
“You think he was the one killing the other women?” Grant asked.
Avery rubbed her arms in the cool night air. “He could have been. Some of those hitmen liked playing with their victims before killing them, and they went after the family members of the victims as a lesson to anyone involved with the syndicate.”
Grant’s mouth pressed into a tight line. “I thought about you every day and wondered if you would live through that assignment.”
“I wasn’t worried so much about me,” she said. “I worried about anyone they might target as a lesson to me.”
Grant slipped his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m glad you survived.”
She was glad they’d both survived. She prayed that the man on the ground was the one responsible for the deaths of the three women. But he wasn’t the only hitman who’d been displaced in the raid. What if there were others gunning for the agents involved? What if they came after Grant to get to her?
Calling him to help her might have made him their next target.