Jake studied Delbert’s curious face. “He should probably know. I mean, it’s a lot of stuff. I’d want to know if I was him.”
Bear turned back to Delbert. “I’m going to be honest with you, Delbert, and in exchange for my honesty, I’m going to expect some in return. If you don’t reciprocate with some information, Detective Williams here is going to get a cup of coffee, and I’m going to do things to you to ensure you’re in far too much pain to sleep for a week. Do we understand each other?”
Delbert shifted in his chair. “You can’t threaten me.”
“I didn’t. I’m giving you a general lay of the land and want you crystal clear on your options. Shall we begin?”
“Suit yourself. I ain’t sayin’ shit about Shane because I don’t know shit about Shane. Same as I told the Amazon bitch behind me.”
Jake was about to shoot forward, grab Delbert by the cheeks, and squeeze until the dirtball’s eyes bulged. He could take Delbert being a douche, but he wasn’t putting up with him being rude to a lady.
Katrina beat him to the punch, literally, by smacking Delbert on the back of the head. “Be nice, Delbert. Or when I’m finished with you, you’ll look like someone set your face on fire and put it out with a pitchfork. I think you owe me an apology.”
Delbert rubbed his head. “Sorry, Detective Williams. This lack of sleep just don’t have me thinkin’ straight. But, one thing I do know is you can’t have enough on me to make me talk about Shane. Even if I knew anything…Which I don’t.”
Bear cracked his knuckles. “Well, we’ll see about that.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Let’s begin with your truck,” Bear said. “You seem to make a lot of trips to Phoenix and Dallas.”
“So? I go where they tell me.”
“I’m a little more curious about your trips to Los Angeles and Lansdale, Texas.”
Lines appeared at the corners of Delbert’s eyes. “I haven’t been to Los Angeles before and never heard of Lansdale. Check Heartstone’s GPS logs on the trucks.”
Jake leaned in. “We did. Bet you didn’t know there’s another GPS unit in your truck. One you couldn’t disable. That unit shows additional trips you made off book.”
“More bullshit.”
“Maybe someone stole your truck while you were sleeping in the back. But the fact is someone disconnected one of the GPS units on your truck, then drove to LA from Phoenix and to Lansdale from Dallas. What did you pick up at those places?”
Delbert shifted in his chair, his confidence melting away like a snowman in the desert. “I didn’t pick up nothing cuz I never went to LA or Lansdale, much less picked up anything.”
“You know you’re just pissing me off by lying to me.”
“If you think I’m lying, prove it.”
Bear drummed his fingers on the tabletop, shooting daggers at Delbert. “See, this is what I mean about not reciprocating. Detective Williams? You look kind of thirsty.”
Katrina pushed off the wall. “Now that you mention it, I am rather parched.” She waited with her hand on the doorknob.
Delbert’s face ran pale. “You guys are tryin’ to scare me, but it ain’t gonna work.”
“Kind of looks like it is working,” Bear said. “You’re shaking.”
“It’s cold in here.”
“Not that cold.”
Katrina opened the door. “No visible marks?”
Bear flashed her the a-okay sign. “Jake here is an expert at not leaving a trace. Well, one which can’t be explained anyway.”
Katrina left the room and pulled the door shut behind her. Jake pushed to his feet and took off his jacket. He laid it on the chair and cracked his knuckles as he moved toward Delbert.
“Fuck this,” Delbert said, eyes wide. “I want my lawyer.”
“Let me note your request in the official record. It’s going to take him a few hours to get here, I’m sure. A lot can happen in a few hours.”
“Lawyer. You can’t do this. I got rights.”
Jake grabbed the biker’s hand and slammed it on the table, forcing the fingers flat against the wood. “Nobody is denying your rights, but remember I’m no cop.”
“You can’t—”
Gripping the tip of the pinky, Jake whispered into Delbert’s ear. “Did you know it takes a mere five pounds of pressure to snap the tip of your pinky? Gets a little harder with the bigger digits, but nothing I haven’t done before. Now, tell us about LA and Lansdale.”
Beads of sweat dotted Delbert’s forehead. “Fuck you. You aren’t going to do anything.”
Jake didn’t want to do anything to the man, but if they were going to get Langston, Delbert had to flap his gums. He thought of Alina crammed in the back of a semi, being sold off like cattle. He conjured the unwelcome image of Ulyana and her dead eyes above the purple hand marks scarring the skin around her long neck. Delbert didn’t commit the murder, but he served her on a platter when he dropped her off at Langston’s trailer.
Delbert screamed as Jake snapped the tip of his pinky to the side, but Jake clamped a hand over his mouth and shushed in his ear. He waited until the cries subsided. “That was one tip of one digit, Delbert. We’re not stopping or leaving here until you talk, and you aren’t getting away with hiding behind a lawyer.”
Delbert’s eyes watered. “I can’t, man. Shane’ll kill me.”
Bear crossed his arms. “We’ll protect you.”
“You can’t.”
“You don’t have a choice. Don’t make Jake get medieval on your ass. Give us a taste. What was in LA and Lansdale?”
“Goddamn it, man.” Delbert moaned. “I didn’t know what was in the trucks.”
“Bullshit. We talked to one of the girls you hauled. She remembers you and your truck very clearly. Break the middle one, Jake.”
“Wait, wait,” Delbert shouted, trying in vain to pull his hand back. “How do I know you won’t screw me over?”
“You don’t, but you have to take one factor into consideration. We don’t want your narrow ass. We want Shane and we know he’s mixed into this. If you want us to take him out and save any retribution from crashing on your stupid head, then give us what we need to track this guy. Start with the contents of the trucks.”
Delbert raked his teeth over his upper lip. “I want immunity.”
“You gotta give a little to get a little. Talk.”
“Unless I get immunity, I ain’t sayin’ another word. I can take whatever you can dish out.”
Jake released Delbert’s hand and laid a brawny arm across the scumbag’s shoulders. “You can take it, but can Layla?”
Delbert stiffened like someone shot electricity up his ass. “What about her?”
Bear’s eyebrows rose. “Warrant out for her arrest. Distribution. I talked to the prosecutor and she’s going to label your little Layla as a prior and persistent drug offender. He’ll elevate her Class B felony to a Class A. You know what that means?”
Delbert buried his face in his hands. “Lotta years with no chance of parole. Fuck me sideways.”
“Bingo. You should have been a lawyer instead of a dirtbag biker. You love this girl?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Tell you what,” Bear said, softening his tone, “you cooperate, and I’ll make sure the prosecutor backs off Layla.”
Katrina slipped back in the room and plonked a can of soda in front of Delbert. Perfect timing.
He took a sip with shaking hands before cradling his broken pinky. “Will she drop the charges against her? Girl’s had a shitty life.”
Bear splayed his hands wide. “Depends on what you got. We know you’ve been hauling illegal shit on your secret runs. We have a pretty good idea what your cargo has been. We know you’re running it through The Asylum. Your fingerprints are all over this thing, and if we can’t nail anybody else, you’re taking the whole load on those narrow shoulders. You’re in quicksand, Delbert, and we’re holding your lifeline.”
“What exact
ly do you want?”
Katrina stepped in. “Confirm everything we know, fill in the gaps and help us get Shane and Garvan, and I’ll work with the prosecution.”
Delbert scratched at the table with a dirty, chewed fingernail, undoubtedly running through his options. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Katrina replied. “Depends on what you know.”
Delbert’s knees bounced like a trip hammer. “Guns, girls, and drugs. Shipped through The Asylum. All under the orders of Garvan Connelly.”
“And Shane Langston?”
“I don’t know much for sure other than he has some dirt on Garvan. Think they was partners on some of the stuff.”
“You seen him around since he broke out?”
Delbert’s eyes dropped. “Nope. Just heard he’s been around The Asylum. Can’t say I’m disappointed our paths didn’t cross. That sumbitch is crazier than a shithouse rat.”
Katrina threw a notepad on the table along with a pencil. “Write it up. I want names and I want dates. The more detail, the better the chances of leniency for you and Layla.”
Delbert tapped the empty pad with the pencil. “Maybe I should wait for my lawyer.”
“You could,” Bear said, “but a lawyer is going to suck time, and we can’t afford to lose any more. This is your chance. Right here, right now. You have the right to an attorney, but we have the right to tell the prosecutor to stick it up your ass with a red hot poker. You think Shane is worried about helping you? Naw, man. Shane and Garvan are out there wondering if you need to be whacked before you start talking.”
Delbert’s eyes bounced between them. “They wouldn’t do that.”
“You sure? You willing to bet your life on that? Because that’s exactly what you’d be doing.”
Delbert gritted his teeth before snatching up the pencil with his good hand, his face turning red. “You know what? Fuck those guys. I ain’t burnin’ for them.”
Bear winked at Jake as their suspect scribbled. “Atta boy, Delbert.”
“I took their crap for years. When they said jump, I said how high.” Delbert wrote harder on the pad with enough pressure Jake worried he’d rip the paper. “I did their dirty deeds and they paid me in peanuts.”
“We’ll burn ’em at the stake.”
Delbert stopped writing and pointed the pencil at Katrina. “And if they think I’m gonna keep quiet about those bodies at The Asylum, they got another think coming.”
Jake gawped. “Bodies?”
Delbert winced and clamped his eyes shut. “Awww, shit.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
It took another thirty minutes of pressing, but once the dam broke, Delbert sang like a diva on opening night at the opera. As far as Delbert knew, all roads ran through Garvan.
They gathered in Sheriff Benson’s office while Katrina laid it out for her boss. The Blood Devils acted as middlemen for shipments of trafficked girls and guns from overseas and drugs through Mexico and Central America. Delbert would get the order, road trip to LA and Lansdale and pick everything up and haul the payload up through the Midwest. The girls would be sorted based on desirability. The high-end girls would get the kid glove treatment and auctioned off to the highest bidder, the lower-end girls would end up in brothels. The lowest of the low would end up at the truck stops. The network delivered the guns and drugs to The Asylum, and the Blood Devils would ship them out to various customers.
“What bodies is he talking about?” Benson asked.
Katrina white-knuckled the chair arms. “Had a shipment of girls packed in a compartment of a semi. A new driver went on a bender and forgot them. They suffocated.”
“Jesus. How many were there?”
“Delbert says a dozen.”
Benson’s face twisted. “Lord have mercy. Looks like we have Garvan and Langston by the short hairs.”
Bear tore at the rim of an empty paper coffee cup, alternating the flaps he created like the top of a castle turret. “We have Garvan by the short hairs. Delbert doesn’t appear to know anything about Langston other than he’s crazy and must have some dirt on Garvan. Unless we get lucky, our lone option to find Shane is to flip Garvan to cooperate. And let me end the potential hope, that nut won’t crack.”
Jake groaned. “We’re back to square one. We can bust up Garvan and The Asylum, but unless Shane is there with a bow around his neck, we’re no closer to finding him.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Katrina said. “We pretty much agree Shane Langston is behind Garvan pulling the strings. He’s on the run with every law enforcement officer in the county after him. There’s only so many places he can hole up. He’s gotta be at The Asylum or close by. We set up surveillance and hope he shows up. Delbert said there’s a shipment coming in. Maybe we get lucky and he’s there to oversee it.”
Bear crumpled the paper coffee cup and swished it into the trash with a nice hook shot across the room. “That’s a lot of maybes and luck. Surveillance on The Asylum without getting noticed is next to fucking impossible.”
“And in the meantime,” Jake said, “Langston is still out there, and our families are in danger. Wish we knew where the hell the scumbag is for sure.”
Deputy Blevins stuck his head in the office and spoke in a low voice in Katrina’s ear before handing her a folder. Her eyebrows drew together as Blevins ducked back out and she opened the folder. Jake’s pulse raced as she thumbed through the pages, dark thoughts of Maggie and Halle whirring in his head.
“Well, we at least know Shane paid a visit to Wichita. I suppose you two know who Willie Banks is? They found the bodies of him and his girlfriend in a shallow grave in a field. Some guy walking his dog lost control of the leash when the dog lurched off a hiking trail. Pictures are pretty brutal.”
Bear flipped through the photos. “Shit, that’s Willie all right.”
Jake let go of his breath, reminding himself two seasoned military vets with an arsenal at their fingertips protected Maggie and Halle. “Shane’s cleaning up his loose ends. There’s someone else we’d better check up on.”
Bear clucked his tongue. “Shit. Bennett Skaggs.”
“You got it.” Jake’s cell phone rang—Janey’s name on the screen. He grimaced and answered, hoping it wasn’t something with the Blood Devils in retribution for Jake kicking their asses over the meth sales to his nephews. “What’s up, Janey? I’m a little busy.”
Sobs emanated through the speaker, and the hairs on the back of Jake’s neck flared. “Jake? Oh, Jesus. You gotta help me. Oh God.”
“Janey? Slow down. Tell me what’s going on.” Jake listened and the gathering of police in Sheriff Benson’s office stiffened. “Janey, listen to me. Go to the police station and find Klages. I’m on my way and I’ll call her. Don’t leave the building once you’re in there, understand?”
He clicked off and snatched his jacket from the couch.
“What the hell’s going on?” Bear asked.
Jake’s fists trembled at his side. “Shane Langston killed Luther in their living room and my nephews are missing.”
Katrina’s brows crunched together. “Who’s Luther?”
“My sister’s husband. We have to get back.”
“How do we know it was Langston?”
Jake’s lip rolled into a snarl. “Because the son of a bitch stabbed a note to me and Bear on Luther’s chest with a steak knife.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Pulling off the two-lane blacktop road, Shane Langston ditched the car down a narrow gravel path splitting a bank of sturdy oaks. He tromped downhill toward the river, still sulking at the fact Jake’s sister Janey hadn’t been at the house. After a quarter mile, the black façade of The Asylum peeked through the forest of trees across the rain-swollen river. He followed the waterline and spied a canoe tied to a log a hundred yards ahead. Though his boots sunk in the muddy banks, he managed to make his way to it. His hand reached out to snag the rope when a limb snapped behind him.
“Help you,
mister?”
Shane turned and spied a silver-haired man in a red flannel shirt and hip waders held up by suspenders. He held a tin cup of something steaming in one gnarled hand and a fly fishing rod in the other. A pup tent crouched in a clearing behind him.
Shane waved. “Howdy. Lost my dog. You seen a black lab with a white spot on his head?”
The old man panned the shoreline as if the imaginary dog could’ve magically appeared in the camp. “Can’t say I have. Sorry.”
“Been looking for that dog all morning.” Shane stepped toward the man and offered a hand. “I’m Sonny.”
“Jackson Dixon.” The old man’s grip was arthritic. “You look familiar. You from around here?”
Shane bristled. “Naw. From Wichita. Here for a little R&R. You?”
“Born and raised. Ain’t been to Wichita.”
“Well, you aren’t missing much. Much more peaceful here. You fishing alone?”
Dixon grinned. “Just the way I like it. Have a place a few miles down the river. A buddy drops me off, and I spend a few days floatin’ and fishin’. Keeps me young at heart. You want some coffee?”
Pleased at the news the old man was alone, Shane gestured toward the camp. “Sure. Show me the way.”
Dixon turned and shuffled back to the tent. “You sure look familiar. Like I seen you on television or something. Maybe you got one of them faces.”
Shane bent over and snagged something from the ground. “Maybe so.”
The old man didn’t see the rock which bashed in the back of his skull or feel the three extra blows Shane added for good measure. Shane hoisted the body over his muscular shoulders and ditched it in a nearby culvert. He removed the tent poles from the ground and threw the mass of canvas on top. Would have to send some of the Blood Devils to clean up the mess.
As he rowed across the river, a twinge plucked at his brain. Two innocent people met a violent end at his hand in the last hour. He should feel bad, shouldn’t he? Wouldn’t a normal person experience some sort of remorse? Shane slapped himself hard across the face. He knew normal flew out the window a long time ago, and self-reflection led to doors best left closed.
Jake Caldwell Thrillers Page 96