“For some it’s one or the other.”
“And for you?”
“I hope you all enjoy the pie. I’m very good at lemon meringue. At least I’m still good at something.”
She turned to leave, but then looked back at him.
“This used to be a nice town way back.”
“You mean when the sweatshops were operating and a robber baron was making all the money?”
She smiled. “I guess we all romanticize our pasts, to make them better than they actually were.”
“Maybe we do,” said Decker. “Nostalgia can be very tempting. And nearly as addictive as opioids.”
She said sharply, “You don’t seem very appreciative to someone who just brought you a pie.”
Decker looked taken aback. “I’m sorry. I…I guess getting nearly killed hasn’t put me in the best mood.”
“Well, enjoy the pie,” she replied in a softer tone.
She walked off while Decker stood there watching. At first, he was feeling guilty about having spoken to her so abrasively. But when she left the gravel walk that led up to the house and reached the sidewalk, Decker stiffened.
Clunk, scrape, clunk.
The sounds he’d heard that night.
Her quad cane was striking the pavement, and the broken foot on the cane she had told him about earlier was making those sounds. It was first scraping against the pavement, and then, when she lifted it and brought it down, it clunked against the pavement.
He closed the door and leaned his head against the wood.
Son of a bitch. Baronville. More like Murderville.
He had some things to do and he didn’t have much time to do them.
He went into the kitchen and threw the pie into the trash.
Chapter 64
SO WHAT’S UP, Decker?”
Decker was sitting across from Agent Kemper at the Mercury Bar. Cindi Riley was not working tonight. She might be at the jail with Baron, Decker thought.
Kemper’s hair was clipped with a barrette. Her sidearm was on a belt holster and her badge was pinned to her belt.
“Just wanted to check in on a few things.”
“Has everyone recovered from the gas attack?”
“News travels fast, I take it?”
“Lassiter phoned me.”
“She put a patrol out front.”
“Glad to hear that. I take it someone thinks you’re getting too close to things. Like when they tried to blow you and Jamison up in that trailer.”
“Seems so.”
“So, are you getting there? Because I see my case slipping away from me by the minute. I don’t know how much longer I can sit on this.”
“I talked to the hospital where Fred Ross was taken on the day I found the bodies. He called 911 complaining of chest pains.”
“Okay.”
“The hospital checked him out and found absolutely nothing wrong. They released him the next day.”
“Why the interest in Fred Ross?”
“Because the bodies of your two agents were kept on ice before they were transported to the empty house. I think they were taken there in Ross’s van. Which means they were probably kept in a freezer shortly before then. And since Fred Ross lived on the street he might have been nervous about us thinking he knew something, or had seen something that night. His being in the emergency room at the time would provide him both an ironclad alibi and preclude us from asking him for details about that night.”
“How do you know they were taken there in his van?”
“I heard a vehicle start up after I saw the lights in the house flickering, which means they had already placed the bodies and poured the blood, which eventually caused the flickering. They must have gone to the house with the bodies before I went out on the deck. And the only car on the street that night was Ross’s.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Yeah, I can. It’s a dead-end street. While I wouldn’t have seen the car, I would’ve seen the car lights if it had gotten to the stop sign at the end of the street. That means the vehicle didn’t leave the street. It dropped off the bodies and then it was driven back to Ross’s house, and the people who dumped the bodies probably left from there on foot.”
“An old guy in a wheelchair is in the middle of this?”
“I think he is, because his son is.”
“Okay. I guess I can see that, but looping your octogenarian father into a major drug operation can seem pretty unbelievable.”
“Well, it’s about to get more unbelievable, because Alice Martin, the former Sunday school teacher, is involved too.”
“What! How do you figure that?”
“Her damaged walking cane was the sound I heard that night. She was out there, probably checking on the transfer. And she told me she despises Fred Ross, but his phone number is up on her wall along with all her other frequently called numbers. But there’s something else.”
“What?”
“She was the one who told me that she had seen two men fitting the descriptions of Beatty and Smith enter the house next to where their bodies were found.”
“So?”
“So now we know those houses were used as pill press operations. Your guys would not have been going in there, which means Martin was lying.”
“But if they were undercover they might have.”
“Martin told me she had seen them go in there a couple of weeks before. If they had been in there as undercover agents, they would have reported the pill press operations to their agency contact.”
“That’s true.”
“Martin had to know that I would probably go check that out right after she told me. And I did. Now, why do I think a review of her phone records would show that she immediately phoned Fred Ross or somebody else? And the next thing you know, Brian Collins shows up pretending to be a cop next door and tries to kill me. See, I don’t think he was watching the place. Why would he be? There was nothing left there; they’d already cleared out. I think he was called there to kill me, because Martin had basically told me a lie to get me to investigate the place. This was all a setup. And it was prearranged to be initiated if I came to question Martin and seemed to be getting too close.”
Kemper looked thoughtful for a few moments, then said, “We obviously know about Ted Ross and the drug ring. But is there something else?”
“I think there’re a lot of things, and not all of them are drug-related. So maybe they’re of no interest to you.”
She smiled. “Before I joined the DEA, I had an ambition to become an FBI agent. It was a last-minute change in my career path.”
“Why?”
“On a stupid bet my best friend in the world took a PCP cocktail and it fried her brain. I remember visiting her in the hospital, staring down at a beautiful young woman who no longer had a mind. And from that moment forward, my whole life was going to be about taking down the monsters who sell that poison.”
“I can see how that would alter your career path,” said Decker.
She leaned forward. “But my interest extends to taking down all bad guys.”
“Glad to hear that.”
She dropped her voice. “As an add-on to what we discussed before, we strongly suspect the presence of a major pill press operation in western Pennsylvania. That’s why a big-time operator like Brian Collins would be here too. If he was involved, you can take it to the bank that some heavyweights have descended on Baronville.”
“And now we know that Ted Ross is supplying them with all the fentanyl they need.”
Kemper straightened. “That’s right. But you already know all this. So why did you want to meet?”
In answer, Decker slipped his badge off his belt and laid it on the table.
She stared down at it before glancing back at him with a perplexed look.
“What does your badge have to do with it?”
“Not my badge,” replied Decker.
“Then whose?”
“You’ll see. But I need your help to get there.”
Chapter 65