Crescent City Murder

by Alec Peche

  Angela read the text to Marie and they both chuckled.

  "As if any trouble ever comes to Green Bay Wisconsin, except when our quarterback breaks his collarbone," Marie said.

  "Gotta agree there. This is the first time in eight or nine years when our season has been over before the end of the regular season. Makes you want to hurt that defensive player that crushed his collarbone into the turf."

  "Angela, I've never seen you even hurt a fly, let alone a 300 pound defensive player."

  "True, and now I'll probably have to go to church confession for those evil thoughts, but it felt good for about ten seconds."

  "Okay let's get back to the case, and maybe I'll have some coffee as I'm starting to feel like this will be a long night. You've discovered eight pot fields and Jill is going to have to call her contacts in Louisiana and they'll have to look up the ownership of the land, but I bet the assessor's office isn't open at this hour, so they must have some special police source for knowing who's living at a certain address. Wonder if I could find anything on the Internet, I think I'll go home and research that."

  Later, Marie found herself searching for ways to find the assessors records online. A federal law gave law enforcement access to all assessor records, so the information had to be online somewhere she just needed to find it. She debated entering the dark web. In the Internet, the dark web was the lowest of low places. She could buy stolen credit card numbers, immortality substances based on fake science, illicit drugs of her choosing, a 3-D printer that could make guns or credit card skimmers, she could buy lottery numbers based in bitcoin currency, and she bet she could buy assessors database information if she looked hard enough. After spending forty-five minutes there and following various trails, she landed on a source. She studied a map of Louisiana parishes and there were ten by her count that touched the Gulf of Mexico.

  She sat back trying to determine what to do next. Given the darkness of the dark web, she actually felt like she needed a shower after visiting the various sites. She could purchase bitcoins, and then use those bitcoins to purchase assessor information. She would end up with the whole state of Louisiana, and that might be useful if the senator owned land in other places of the state other than the coast. Jill's New Orleans detectives might wonder where she got the information, so she'd have to be sure that Jill had a story about a friend in the assessor's office. Not a likely story, but one that the detectives would probably ignore for the bigger picture of this case. She made her purchase of bitcoin and then went around the curtain and into the dark web.

  Thirty minutes later she had all the information she needed. She downloaded the spreadsheet and exited the dark web. She went to her living room window to see if there was a FBI truck in front of her house, but fortunately, the street was empty. She washed her hands, and grabbed a cup of fruity tea, her compromise between coffee and wine. She informed Jill of her purchase and Angela of success, so now she just needed parcel numbers.

  Chapter 29

  Jill was about to leave for the Sheriff's station to meet the man who had tried several times to break into her house. Just as she was getting into her car, she saw the email from Marie describing her success in the black web as well as an email from Angela stating she found eight coastal marijuana farms so far. Her friends had joined forces and were working through the evening and into the night on her behalf. Whether they were paid on a case or not, they always delivered the goods. Jill knew she was lucky to have such friends. By morning, she'd likely have the evidence for the detectives and their District Attorney, or maybe since the FBI was involved, they would use a Federal Prosecutor out of the Department of Justice. Regardless, Jill's team was collecting substantial evidence.

  She arrived at the Sheriff's office where her burglar was in custody. She wondered if he'd been identified and if he answered questions or asked for an attorney. The police force was small in her town and likely the Sheriff himself as well as one of his officers would be doing the questioning.

  At the front entrance she was directed back inside and was met in the corridor by one of the deputies she recognized from her home security system. After thanking him for saving her house from further damage, they moved on to the interview room, where she could stand at a one way mirror and both view the interview and listen through a speaker set up to the side of the window.

  She asked the deputy, “Has he said much so far?”

  “No, but I think he's thinking about a deal offered by our District Attorney.”

  “A deal?”

  “Yeah, he was read the charges against him including unlawful possession of firearms and knows he could stand to do up to six years for the burglary and up to twenty for the weapons charge in a State prison in California. He's got a strong southern accent and so he knows he'll be doing time far away from his family. That's an incentive to cooperate.”

  “Have you identified him?”

  “Yes his fingerprints were on file from a stint in the military, but he has no prior criminal history.”

  “What did he do in the military?”

  “He was in the infantry and had the skill to be a sharpshooter but he chose to pursue a life in private,” the deputy said while listening to the interview. “That sounds like he accepted the deal. Good.”

  Jill thought of the shots in the cemetery and guessed he'd been warning her to get out of town or leave the case alone. Sounds like he had the skill to hit her if he'd wanted.

  “Can you ask the Sheriff to ask him a question?”

  “Yes, I'll pass it to him on a piece of paper. What's your question?”

  “Did he obtain the identity of the woman that was with me at the cemetery?”

  The deputy wrote the question down and she could see him passing it to the Sheriff. He read and nodded and the deputy left. The Sheriff continued with the path of questioning he'd been using before he received the note; he'd add her question toward the end.

  “Did he ask for an attorney?” Jill asked the deputy.

  “We let him sit for about two hours while we discussed the case with the D.A., so we had some maneuverability with him. Up to this point he's declined an attorney. He's very interested in serving minimal time back home in Louisiana and we could arrange that for him with a plea bargain bill. Since he made his initial decision to talk, he has waived having an attorney present three additional times. He just wants the process over and to be escorted back home. Right now we're trying to determine who hired him. He's cooperating to the extent he can, but who knows if he knows anyone's real name.”

  “What's his name?”

  “Sean Sharp.”

  Jill thought back to her trip to New Orleans and couldn't remember meeting any Seans. Then she thought of two other questions for the suspect. She'd assumed that Sean was the one that shot at her in the cemetery when she heard of his sharpshooter skills, but maybe not. So she would ask that as well as if he was involved in the chase through the swamp. Answers to those questions would give her a sense of the scope of the Senator's operation. She dictated the two other questions and then quietly listened to the interview. The Sheriff was concentrating on who had hired Mr. Sharp.

  “Who contacted you for this job?” asked Sheriff Arstand.

  “Huh?” replied Sean Sharp.

  “Who told you to go to California and find Jill Quint?”

  “I got a phone call.”

  “On your cell?”

  “Yes.”

  “Male or female voice.”

  Mr. Sharp gave him a puzzled look and replied, “Male.” He'd never had a female ask him to do a job.

  “When did you get the call?”

  “Yesterday morning.”

  “Did you make your travel arrangements or were they made for you?

  “They were made for me. I've never been out of Louisiana except to go to Gulfport. This state is too full of people. I'm never coming back.”

  “That's good to hear,” said the Sheriff. “Were you involved in a shooting in a ceme
tery or in a swamp with Jill Quint in the last week? Since we offered you a plea deal and you accepted, then if you admit to these additional crimes against Dr. Quint, it will not affect your plea deal. We only want the truth.”

  “I hadn't heard of Jill Quint until the phone call yesterday and I wasn't in a cemetery or a swamp in the last couple of days or even in the last month.”

  Jill, listening, said to the deputy, “I wonder how big a group of criminals the senator employs?”

  He didn't have the answer so they went back to listening to the interview. As they stood there, Jill heard another arrival to this part of the police station. She smiled when she saw it was Special Agent Leticia Ortiz from the San Francisco office of the FBI with two additional agents. The shook hands while Jill introduced the Special Agent to the deputy and she joined them at the window.

  “I'd like to get into the interview room without breaking the Sheriff's interview rhythm. Is this a good time to tell him, I'd like to join him?”

  “I don't know. I'll pass through a note to him like I did here with Dr. Quint's questions.”

  Ortiz looked at Jill and said, “You asked questions? I'm so shocked!”

  “Haha. How come you're here? Isn't there a closer FBI office than San Francisco?”

  “I had a call with our Stockton and Sacramento offices and while they're closer, they know I have prior experience with you and you're becoming something of a class 5 water rapid – getting involved in one of your cases is extremely difficult, violent, and can be the upper limits of what is possible to stay alive.”

  “Gee thanks. It's not my fault,” Jill said with conviction in her voice.

  “I know that and you've helped law enforcement all over the world take down some really bad people so we're grateful, but wary that this case is going to be the one that kills us or our agents.”

  Still Jill frowned at her response. Were her cases that dangerous? None of her or her team had ever spent a day in the hospital let alone been at risk of death. Sure Angela had been nicked by a bullet, and Marie and Nathan had been shot with a paralyzing agent, but they all fully recovered with only her, a doctor to the dead as their treating physician.

  She tuned back into the interview room and saw that the Sheriff was taking a break with his interview and making arrangements for Mr. Sharp to use the bathroom, and get some food. Two deputies stepped in to escort the suspect out of the room, and the Sheriff motioned for Jill and the FBI Agents to follow him to a conference room.

  After introductions were made, the Special Agent, who had met the Sheriff over one of Jill's prior cases began discussing strategy. Jill knew she had no role in the discussion or plan and she stayed in the meeting over worry about Jo's and her own safety. A representative from the DA's office also joined them.

  Their conversation continued along the lines of further interview questions, transport and legal arrangements and then they heard that Mr. Sharp was ready for more interviewing.

  Jill saw no role for herself in the conversation and said her goodbyes to the Sheriff and the agents. It was now late evening, dark outside, and Nathan had likely put dinner on hold waiting for word from her on when she would be home. She texted him and then turned the music off so she would have the silence to think on the short drive to his house. She was worried about Jo's safety and the answers from Mr. Sharp made it seem like there were many other bad guys out there yet no one else seemed to be worried about her safety. What should she do with her thoughts? Tell Jo? It was getting even later in Wisconsin and she'd hate to call her late at night. She'd talk it over with Nathan when she arrived; she needed someone to bounce ideas off of.

  After greeting Trixie and Nathan and sitting down to a great glass of wine which she took a moment to appreciate, she discussed her issue with Jo's safety.

  “Until the senator's organization is taken down, I'm afraid there might be an endless supply of criminals for hire to come after Jo and me. I'm really worried about her safety, but it's nearly 10 o'clock at night in Wisconsin and short of the police sitting on her doorstep I'm not sure what she could do at this hour."

  "Is Jack staying with her? Does she have a second person in that house?"

  Jack had been Jo's partner for the past five years or so and they were living together in Jo's house.

  "Unless he's out of town for business or pleasure, then he should be at her house."

  "Even though it's late at night it wouldn't hurt to give them a call and warn them. At the very least they need to lock their doors. She has a couple of dogs doesn't she, that will make noise if someone tries to get into the house?"

  "She does, the dogs are small so no protection there, but they would give her some warning. Okay I'll give her a call."

  She dialed Jo's cell phone and got no answer. That could mean she was asleep and didn't hear the phone ring or something was wrong and she couldn't get her phone. So she called Jack to see if he would pick up and fortunately he did.

  "Hey Jack, it's Jill. Sorry to call you so late at night."

  "What's up?" Knowing that Jill wasn't calling to chew the fat, he got right to the point.

  "Is Jo in the house with you?"

  "No, she stayed overnight in Milwaukee for a meeting."

  "Okay... That's probably good, but you need to watch your back because you're in Jo's house I assume."

  "That sounds ominous, who's after Jo?"

  "I don't know that anybody is, but my house in California was attacked by a criminal from Louisiana today with an intent to kill me. He's in custody and admits no knowledge about Jo and I don't think he's lying.”

  “So why are you worried about Jo being in danger?"

  "During the police interview of this guy, he seemed to have no knowledge of the shooting in the cemetery in which Jo was standing next to me. I'm worried that someone knows who she is and where she lives because her hotel room was searched. I think the senator that's behind all of this has endless resources to hire people to come after the two of us and frankly if she ever knows that Marie and Angela are working on the case, they'll be targets too."

  "Maybe I'll suggest that she stay in Milwaukee another night. Do you think the senator might be in custody by then?"

  "I don't know. It's up to the FBI to arrest her as one of their focuses is political corruption, but she's bought off a lot of people to grow these marijuana fields, or people are just unobservant in that part of the world."

  "I think she has meetings in Green Bay later this week so I'm not sure how long she can stay in Milwaukee and still do her job."

  "How about you Jack? As long as you're at her address of record, you're likely not safe. Can you move the dogs and yourself to a family member's house or a hotel for the next couple of days and nights?"

  "I'll do a hotel tonight."

  "By the way I tried calling Jo, but she didn't pick up her phone. I assume that's because she's asleep."

  "Yeah, she can be a pretty sound sleeper, I'll talk to her in the morning about it. Anything else we need to know?"

  "Be suspicious of anyone you run into with a southern accent. That's the only advice I can provide," Jill said with a smile in her voice.

  They said their good nights and ended the call.

  Chapter 30

  Senator Stephanie Harris was seated in her home office on the Black Oak Plantation, situated adjacent to the Mississippi River. The two hundred year old plantation reflected the grandeur of a time decades before the Civil War. It had been producing sugar cane for two centuries. She leaned back in a butter soft leather chair and stared out the windows at the fields. There were some thousand acres around the plantation planted in sugar cane, or at least the first fifty feet contained sugar cane crops. Once beyond the fourteenth row or so of cane, a different addictive substance, some would say, was growing.

  Stephanie had taken over her parent's plantation at an early age after they were both killed in an auto accident. The plantation had been in dire financial straits at the time and she had to drop
out of college and study the profitability of various crops, equipment and farm labor to figure out what to do. Then she was approached by a 'businessman' from south of the border with a business proposal. When she first heard of the proposal, she was outraged and said, “no thanks”. The gentleman wisely did not take that to be her final answer and left his business card with her. He expected that he'd cycle back to her in six months and see if she would change her opinion as he expected, times would be tougher.

  He was off on his calculation as she called in four months. She was ready to discuss a deal. His proposal was that Black Oak Plantation become an independent grower for Garcia Enterprises. She would retain full ownership of her property, but would grow crops to support his company. They were very interested in her land as it abutted the Mississippi River and her crops could be loaded aboard a barge and sent south to Mexico for processing before returning to the United States. She had been unaware of the second half of the equation at the time she agreed. She would also hire some Garcia workers to help her with the planting and harvesting of Garcia products. The product once harvested, would be put on boats to sail down the Mississippi River and out into the Gulf of Mexico and beyond for processing. Overall when she reviewed the proposal, she had no complaints, and her analysis anticipated the new crops would significantly increase her revenues. She liked everything in the proposal except the crop itself. It wouldn't wreck her land, but it would cause a problem if the crop was ever noticed. That meeting had been twenty years ago and so far no one had noticed the crops behind the corn and sugarcane. At least that had been the case, until Jill Quint had arrived on the scene.

  Garcia Enterprises provided security for her crops which had expanded beyond the plantation to other pieces of land on the Gulf Coast of Louisiana. Their security resources extended beyond surveillance systems to informants and hackers in several state, local, and federal government agencies. She hadn't known about the murdered agriculture supervisor until she'd read the story in the Times-Picayune. When she first read the story, she' hoped it was some other grower's land, but then her contact from Garcia Enterprises had informed her of the problem. Now she had a feeling the whole scheme was about to blow up in her face and she would lose her land, her heritage, her status as a senator, and the respect of her state.