Chapter 19 #2
Santi, Roan, and two people from the accident site testified, and no one appeared more shocked than Veronica Archer and the mayor when the judge found her guilty of driving under the influence, reckless endangerment, and assault of an officer.
What should’ve been shocking but wasn’t, was that Veronica wasn’t sentenced to actual jail time unless she breached the conditions of her probation.
Her license was suspended, so she could not legally operate a vehicle again.
She also had to attend a substance abuse treatment program and community service as well as pay a fine.
None of which Veronica Archer was appreciative of.
“How dare you, Joann Dickerson!” she said to the judge. “My husband put you on
that bench! If it wasn’t for the charity I showed your mama, you would’ve ended up in a shack with ten children under ten, smoking dope to survive, just like that mother of yours.”
“Mother, calm down,” the mayor said warningly. “Thank you for your leniency, Judge Dickerson. We’ll make arrangements for her probation.”
Veronica Archer turned a death glare toward Lauren, Santi, and Roan.
Lauren gave her a closed mouth smile and was about to tell her she got a better sentence than she deserved, but Santi placed his hand briefly on Lauren’s lower back in warning.
She remained silent.
Not that she wasn’t above it, but it would look petty to gloat over the older woman’s sentence.
The next case on the docket was called up and the Archers left the courtroom.
Lauren nodded to Mrs. Archer as she passed them.
“Have a nice remainder of your day...dear,” Lauren said.
Santi sighed loudly and frowned down at her and Roan, who tried to hide her smile by lowering her head.
“I did well, Santi, you have to admit it. I could’ve said much worse…you know my mouth.”
“Oh yeah, I know it,” he said looking at her lips with enough banked heat in his cool gaze to let her know he wasn’t just talking about how she used words.
Lauren focused on the details of the next case to avoid Santi’s gaze.
There would be consequences tonight, she was sure of it, and she looked forward to suffering them.
Her thoughts were interrupted by an emergency call from Santi’s radio.
She could barely make out one of his deputies over the static but when she heard “attack,” “escape,” and “unconscious,” her heart rate soared.
Santiago led her out of the court. “Can you call my aunt and have her pick you up?”
She nodded. “Of course, be safe.”
He and Roan ran from the courthouse so fast she wasn’t certain he heard her.
She learned from one of the lawyers from the DA’s office that there were three prisoners in the transport that had cases coming before the judge. The DA asked the judge for an extension, which was granted.
Lauren was too agitated to stay in the building.
She walked outside for a moment to take a breath and call Lina, who said she’d be there to pick her up in about twenty minutes.
She wanted Santi and his staff to be okay.
She knew their job was dangerous, but in some ways, diminished the danger because Shrouded Lake wasn’t an Oakland or a San Francisco.
The hard truth was bodies were piling up here, and they felt much closer in proximity than when people were killed in those bigger cities.
Because she had time, Lauren walked to the records office and copied some public information about this town.
Since the council meeting was tomorrow, she wanted to have a comparison report.
Last night she’d begun to print out and organize some of Bailey Joe’s files, but there was a lot more she needed to do between now and tomorrow night.
Lauren walked to the front of the courthouse more fortified for the council meeting. When Lina arrived, she was more than a little surprised to see Ma Mable sitting in the passenger seat of the car.
Roan hit the brakes, and Santiago was out of the cruiser before it came to a complete stop. The transport bus was halfway down the embankment on its side. It had gouged its own path in the earth until it came to a stop where it was billowing black smoke.
Santiago couldn’t see any fire from where he stood, but the back door which faced the road had buckled. Moving swiftly down the slope, he could see Evans on the left side of the bus slumped over with the roof at his back. It’s where he must have radioed in before falling unconscious.
Leaning over him, Santiago checked his pulse which was strong, and looked over his body for any obvious injuries. It was when he lifted his head from the bloody ground that Santi saw the gash on the side of Evan’s head.
“How long for that ambulance!”
“Less than five minutes away,” Roan shouted down.
There was about thirty more feet this bus could slide before crashing into the riverbed below. If that happened the men inside could be crushed or could drown to death.
Loose soil slid down the hill toward him as Santiago tried to rouse Evans. When the younger man remained unconscious, Santiago lifted him and carried him up the embankment.
“What’s the condition of Cutter and the detainees?” Roan asked as she pulled the mechanical wench from the front of her cruiser.
“Couldn’t see through the busted-up windshield because of the smoke. I didn’t want to climb into or on top of the bus to get through a window without some stabilization.”
Roan worked to getting the hook locked around the rear bumper, and he sprayed the engine with the fire extinguisher.
When she was back in the cruiser, he heard the additional sirens.
The accident happened closer to the town of Meadow Glen than Shrouded Lake, so it was likely their emergency personnel.
“Keep the line tight, but don’t pull until I give the go-ahead. See if whoever’s coming can get that back door opened enough to pass people through.”
“Roger that.”
“Cutter, you all right in there?” he called out.
“Let’s assume he’s not,” Santiago muttered when only silence met him. There should be three other men inside, yet no responses.
With the protection of his insulated gloves, he gripped a section of the broken windshield, braced against the bent hood and partially exposed engine and pulled until it separated from the frame.
Crawling through the space, he dropped down and squatted on the barred windows.
The transport bus had enough seating for twenty prisoners, including a seat in front of the cage for one deputy and another at the rear for the other.
Cutter usually took the front position because he liked to see what was coming.
The entry door to the bus was closed, and on the same side, the middle of the bus was buckled inward. It had been hit by something large.
Glass crunched beneath Santiago’s feet, and he paused and tensed as the bus
slid a few inches.
“Cutter’s unconscious,” he radioed to Roan. Cutter’s right arm was bent at an odd angle. Santi knelt down and pressed a finger against Cutter’s neck. His pulse was strong.
“Help’s here League, they’re helping secure the bus so it won’t slide again. I found the driver, busted up bad. He must’ve gone through the windshield and tried to crawl up the hill.”
Santi got Cutter out first, laying him a few feet away as two EMTs were coming down the hill.
Next was Garland Porter. It took Santiago and a deputy from Meadow Glen to get his big ass out. Toward the back of the bus, Tommy Lewellen was missing, and Eddy Porter was dead. A bullet in his head.
“Son of a bitch.”
Thank goodness he’d had the foresight to get Dalton in a safe house, or he’d likely be dead as well. If Vince Lewellyn hadn’t been shot during the raid and hospitalized at Grace Memorial, he’d likely be dead too. Shit.
“Roan, have Derry go to Grace Memorial Hospital as security for Vince Lewellen. Tommy’s missing and Eddy’s been shot. Cordon off the area, we’ve got ourselves another murder.”
Before this was a search and rescue, now it was a homicide, and they had to preserve as much evidence as possible.
Santiago, Roan, and the officer from Meadow Glen now knew it was a planned attack.
The dead body ruled out it being a hit-and-run, which the officer theorized when he arrived on scene.
But the men who’d set up a lucrative drug ring were the only ones confirmed dead and missing.
Someone didn’t want them making that court appearance.
Either someone wanted both Eddy and Tommy dead and Tommy got away, or Tommy was in on the ambush and murder, escaping with whoever rammed into the transport bus.
Santiago turned to the officer from Meadow Glen. “We’ll get more detailed statements from everybody after they’ve gotten medical treatment.”
The officer nodded before leaving. “I’ll be in touch tomorrow.”
“Evan, you and Cutter, in the ambulances. No discussion. I’ll check in with you both when I get back to town. And ride with Garland Porter instead of Cutter. See what he remembers if he wakes up before you get to the hospital.”
“Yes, Sheriff,” Evans said.
Cutter was already on a stretcher arguing with the EMT who was trying to secure his broken arm.
Santiago rolled his eyes and was happy to see the two ambulances head down the road, with his men alive.
Roan looked at him when everyone, except the MEs handling the body, was out of sight, then they looked at each other.
“This was a hit,” Roan stated.
“Yeah.” He put on his Ray-Bans and surveilled the area. “My full attention,” he said. “Whoever did this may not have known they wanted it, but they have it now.”
“Which road are we heading down?” she asked tightly. She’d walk whichever path he needed to despite how much discomfort it caused her. Roan’s father being Black Cherokee and her mother being Black Episcopalian put her at war with herself when it came to matters of the unseen.
“Good old-fashioned investigation,” he assured. Her relief was palpable.
“Until it ain’t of course,” he said grimly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.
“You know that taunting shit, that’s Lauren’s influence.” She frowned. “Fight it, League. Don’t let her possess you.”
“If she’s gotten inside me, I promise I’ve gotten inside her too.”
“See, that’s what I’m talking about,” she said, upper lip curled in distaste. “All this sharing, it ain’t like you. I need the man whose emotions reside twenty thousand leagues under the sea. Bring him back. Because all that...ya’ll nasty.”
If Lauren stayed in Shrouded Lake for too long, that version of him might be changed forever, because like turbulent waters, she had a way of making hidden things surface.
They walked across the road to where the vehicle had lain in wait for the transport bus.
“What do you think?” he asked Roan, who kneeled and took more photos.
“Tires are big. Maybe we’re looking at thirty-eight-inch. It had to have been fitted with some kind of”—she steepled her fingers—“almost triangular grill guard.”
They walked up the hill to the point where the tread stopped; where the tire prints were a little deeper. The driver had backed up to this point to get enough speed and momentum to push the bus over the edge.
Santiago stayed closer to the trail, walking higher than where the truck had been, and Roan explored the forest around it. He found the butt end of a blunt, videoed and bagged it.
“We said a hit,” he said loud enough for Roan to hear. “Maybe it didn’t start out that way. Could’ve started out as a breakout, and maybe Eddy was going to plead out or cut a deal instead of life on the run?”
“Maybe he was gonna give the DEA bigger fish to fry,” she added. “Come over here and look this way.” He walked toward her. “The truck would’ve been higher on the ground and from here they could see the bus coming, gauge it’s speed, and timed right, bam.”
There were shoe tracks that she photographed, and she pulled a blue fiber off a bush and bagged it.
“We get the tracks plastered and analyzed; rule out our people…”
“You have a suspect? Lewellen was Andy’s friend. Andy has a truck with front gear.”
“So do a lot of trucks up here, League.”
“I know, and we’ll check out every one of them. We’ll see what evidence Meadow Glen’s department gets from the exterior of the bus after it’s examined in their garage.” They had better tech than Shrouded Lake.
Roan looked down the dirt path. “By coming in from the side, the front and rear cameras won’t likely have captured the vehicle, but I’ll check to be sure. You think they knew about the cameras?”
Santiago had motor pool to upgrade the cameras two months ago. The new ones were well hidden and only a handful of personnel knew about their replacement. The old interior cameras were still there, but no longer active.
Roan whistled. “Brings us back around to your original dilemma—”
“Fuck.”
The issue of who the mayor had on the inside of the department was a nuisance before, but if that person or those people were actively participating in crime to abet the mayor’s machinations….
“Anderson. That man is always in the mix in some way.”
He recalled Lauren talking about the revitalization program being fiscally deceptive. Would he be willing to kill over these deceptions?
Roan side-eyed him.
“What?” he sighed.
“It makes me sick to even think it, but Evans was the only one conscious when we arrived on the scene. His wound was bloody, but it wasn’t life threatening. Everyone else
was beat to hell or unconscious.”