Carson punched his arm, looked at Kraus. “No, you’re my hero. Thank you.” Carson stuck out her hand. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re very welcome. Agent Savich thought it would be a good idea to come looking like Delta Force to scare the crap out of them. I can’t wait to meet this Sheriff Bodine.”
Carson said, “Maybe at first you think he’s another good old boy, but I’d say the sheriff is scary, and I’m from New York. You want to dismiss him, but behind his eyes, there’s something you don’t want to deal with.” She looked down at herself, over at Griffin. “I couldn’t believe it—he looked us up and down, saw how dirty we were—well, not Griffin, but me—and still he called us movie stars.”
Kraus looked from one to the other. An eyebrow rose. “Imagine,” she said.
Griffin said, “You haven’t met the other characters in our traveling show—these are my good friends, Jenny Wiley and Aimée Rose Wallberger.”
Jenny said, “It was a treat to watch you, Agent Kraus, and a pleasure to meet you. What would you say to my feeding spaghetti to you and your team after this is all straightened out?”
“And I’ve already made my special caramel pecan cheesecake,” Aimée Rose said.
Kraus said, “If that would be spaghetti with meat sauce, you’re on.”
Aimée Rose said, “Jenny makes her meat sauce from scratch, of course, lots of garlic and butter.”
Kraus looked down at her iWatch. “We haven’t got long before the sheriff arrives. Agent Savich gave me the overview of what happened, but I need all you can give me in five minutes, Griffin. Ms. Wiley and Ms. Wallberger, I need to ask you to leave now. I’m not expecting any violence, but we can’t take the chance of having you here when the sheriff arrives. We’ll see you later for that meal you promised. I’m thanking you in advance.”
Once Jenny and Aimée Rose had left, Carson quickly recounted what had happened as she had so many times already, with no mention of telepathy.
Kraus nodded. “Very succinct. I must say you and Griffin have had an exciting day. I have a lot of questions, but they can wait until after we meet with the sheriff.” She looked at the big round clock on the wall. “Ah, about time for Top Dog to walk through the door.” Kraus grinned as she checked her MP5. “Ms. DeSilva, you called the sheriff scary?”
Griffin said, “It’s actually Dr. DeSilva. And she did, yes. I’m not so sure.”
Kraus nodded, smiled. “Noted.”
Carson said, “Yes, trust me, there’s more to him than meets the eye. ‘Scary’ is as good a word as any.”
Kraus nodded again, said to Agent Vickie Lynn, “Tell Higgins to come inside and line everyone up in the outer room, combat ready, and look eager to form a firing squad. I think I hear Sheriff Bodine.”
Griffin grinned. “Showtime.”
26
* * *
Griffin watched Sheriff Booker Bodine from the narrow front window as he screeched his Crown Vic to a stop at the curb, slammed the car door, and marched into the station, his hand hovering over his Beretta clipped to his belt. His face was set, his mouth working—was he talking to himself? Griffin saw no fear, only rage in his eyes, and a big barbecue stain on his shirt. Then he stopped, looked around, saw the FBI van, and drew a deep breath. Good, he realized he was going up against something more powerful than he was, something he couldn’t control. Griffin watched him square his shoulders, thrust out his chin.
Sheriff Booker Bodine was met by six hard faces, three men and three women, all in FBI flak jackets, holding submachine guns at the ready in their gloved hands. An older woman with her hands on her hips stepped forward, her smile as cold as her eyes. Behind them he saw Hammersmith with DeSilva beside him, next to the water fountain, their backs to the wall. He didn’t see Fayreen, Brewster, or Jewel.
So the pretty boy had juice. He’d managed to bring the FBI in force into his town. Hell’s bells, as his mother would say to his father when she was pissed. This crew looked tough, probably as soon shoot him as say good evening. He let his hand flit over his Beretta anyway.
He stared at the tall, fit woman with her short salt-and-pepper hair slicked back from her face, no makeup, and aviator glasses. Was she trying to look like a man?
He smiled at her and tried his best to sound like God. “I am Sheriff Booker Bodine. Who are you?”
Kraus handed him her creds. “I’m FBI Special Agent Bettina Kraus, special agent in charge of the Richmond Field Office.”
Booker studied her ID, handed it back to her, and swallowed bile. “I would like to know why you have invaded my station house and why you look ready to go to war.” He stabbed a finger at Griffin and Carson. “And why those two are out of their cell where they were rightfully placed. They’re being held for questioning, and I have every right to do that.” Out went his chin.
None of the agents changed expression.
Kraus said, “First, Sheriff, I would like to know why you refused to accept Agent Hammersmith’s credentials and incarcerated him instead, and why you didn’t call to verify his identity. And why you haven’t placed a guard on a man accused of kidnapping Dr. Carson DeSilva. This man, Rafer Bodine, I understand is your nephew?”
Don’t throw your weight around, Booker, Jess had told him before he’d left. Be calm and logical, better to butter the bread and pour on the honey. He pointed to Griffin, said in a calm deep voice, “Ma’am, Agent Kraus, this man does not look like an FBI agent. However, if you say he’s legitimate, who am I to say? But it makes no sense to me you’d let him into law enforcement. And that girl—”
Griffin said, “Sheriff, are you really referring to Dr. DeSilva?”
Bodine looked like he wanted to shoot Griffin right this minute, or choke him, but he sucked it up, raised his chin even higher, and pointed to Carson. “That woman shouldn’t be free. She’s a danger to our law-abiding citizens. Look, Agent Kraus, I had good cause to throw them in jail. They put a young man in the hospital, a man well known and well liked in Gaffer’s Ridge.”
Kraus said, “I understand Agent Hammersmith and Dr. DeSilva told you what this young man did, this young man who also happens to be your nephew?”
“Yeah, sure I listened to their lame story. It was full of holes and inconsistencies and flat-out lies. I didn’t believe a word of it and neither did anyone else who knows Rafer. So look, it appears I will have to release Agent Hammersmith if you vouch for his identify. I will, however, keep her”—he tossed his head toward Carson—“under lock and key. By her own admission, she struck Rafer Bodine on the head with a pipe, a blow that could have killed him. It is my right and my responsibility as sheriff of Gaffer’s Ridge to protect my town and its citizens. So you may escort Hammersmith out of here, since you have no reason to stay.”
Kraus wasn’t going to waste her time arguing with this little tin god. “Sheriff, here’s what’s going to happen. I am sending two agents to your hospital to keep guard on Rafer Bodine. As of this moment, the FBI is opening an investigation into the kidnapping of the three teenage girls and of Carson DeSilva. Kidnapping, as you perhaps know, is a federal crime. In view of your conflict of interest, your involvement in this case seems counterproductive. Further, the DOJ—that’s the Department of Justice—”
“I know what that means!”
“Most Americans do. Now, the DOJ will determine if your behavior warrants prosecution.”
Booker looked ready to explode. Then he pulled back his shoulders, stretched himself to his full height. “I have been sheriff in Gaffer’s Ridge for twenty-two years and my daddy was sheriff before me for nearly forty years. I have worked hard to keep my town orderly and crime free. Ask anyone—there is hardly any trouble here in Gaffer’s Ridge.”
Kraus said, her voice dry as dust, “Except for the missing teenage girl from your town, Heather Forrester, three months ago.”
“Ma’am, Agent, I am as certain as I can be our poor Heather was taken by an outsider. Probably one of those fool hikers saw her, took
her. Or maybe it was someone from one of the other towns who are missing a teenage girl. No one I know in my town would harm a hair on Heather Forrester’s head. I’ve been doing all I can, but there’s absolutely nothing to go on, no ransom note, not a single clue. Obviously, it’s not Rafer, his family is rich, plus he’s been friends with the Forrester family since he was a child.” He tossed his head toward Carson again. “But she’s new in town, claims she’s here to interview that nut case Alek Kuchar, a weird dude who’s been hiding in the mountains. The guy’s crazy, so I don’t see how—”
Kraus raised her hand, cut him off. “Sheriff Bodine, here are your choices: If Agent Hammersmith allows you to assist the FBI in our investigation into the three missing girls, you and your deputies will follow his orders to the letter. You will in no way impede, obstruct, or attempt to sabotage any part of his investigation or I will report your actions to the DOJ. If you agree, you may remain as sheriff of Gaffer’s Ridge, temporarily, despite your clear conflict of interest. Let me stress it is up to Agent Hammersmith to decide whether he wishes to include you and your deputies.
“Your second choice: you can hand me your weapon and your badge now, leave this office immediately, and face federal charges. Let me be absolutely clear: if you in any way interfere with Agent Hammersmith’s investigation, he will arrest you for obstructing justice.”
27
* * *
Griffin waited to see what the sheriff would do. Bodine looked like his guts were twisting, looked ready to spit nails, but he managed to say calmly enough, “I have known Rafer all his life. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“We’re not accusing him of hurting a fly, Sheriff,” Kraus said patiently, “but of kidnapping and the attempted murder of Dr. DeSilva. And he’s going to be a major suspect. I have received a nod from Agent Hammersmith, so now it’s up to you. Will you give Agent Hammersmith your full cooperation? Or leave?”
Booker yelled, “You want me to actually work with this prick? This puffed-up pretty boy who doesn’t know anything, doesn’t know this town or anyone in it?”
Kraus said nothing, merely stared at him, no expression on her face. Bodine stopped, looked back and forth from her to Griffin. Griffin saw the moment he believed her. The moment he realized he could and would lose his job and be charged with the crime of impeding a federal agent, that he’d be a laughingstock when word got out, and it would. He looked at Griffin, and for a moment Griffin felt sorry for him. For Bodine to have to take orders from him, it had to gall him but good.
Griffin watched him slowly nod.
“Say your agreement out loud, Sheriff Bodine.”
“I agree to work with Agent Hammersmith.”
“To be specific, you’ll do exactly what Agent Hammersmith asks, follow his instructions and his timeline expeditiously, and give him your full cooperation. You will guarantee to provide him with unbiased information, you will not obstruct justice in any way. State your agreement aloud.”
It looked like it was gutting him to say the words, but he got them out. “Yes, I agree to work for Agent Hammersmith, do everything he says, my deputies as well.”
Kraus nodded. “If I hear you are trying to sabotage Agent Hammersmith in any way, I will have a warrant for your arrest from a federal judge this fast—” And she snapped her fingers. “Do you understand me, Sheriff?”
He nodded.
“Out loud, please.”
“Yes, I understand you.”
“Good. So now it’s up to you. I’ll have two of my agents available to Agent Hammersmith if he needs them. You will provide him with any office space he requires. You will now return Agent Hammersmith’s and Dr. DeSilva’s cell phones, all their identification and personal belongings. Rafer Bodine’s house is out of bounds to you until our FBI forensic team is through.”
Bodine said, “Your forensic team won’t find anything at Rafer’s house. It’s her word against his and they’ll see there’s no proof.”
In that moment, Griffin knew the sheriff had already seen to removing evidence, including the most damning, the duct tape. On his own initiative? Griffin didn’t know. He did know he wanted to meet Rafer’s parents, Cyndia and Quint Bodine.
Kraus ignored him. “The forensic team will be at Rafer Bodine’s house tomorrow morning to go over the basement where Dr. DeSilva was held. Special Agent Higgins will be staying there tonight to avoid any more disruption of the scene than has already happened.
“You may now release Deputies Brewster and Jewel and your dispatcher. Let me warn you, Sheriff, your deputies’ behavior reflects directly on you. One sneer from any of them, one act of insubordination, they’ll be visiting your jail cell and you will be the one to turn the key.”
The AC was on high but Bodine was sweating, two huge circles beneath his arms. Carson was very pleased. They watched him walk to Fayreen’s desk, stiff anger in every step. He took their belongings out of one of the drawers. “Rafer’s gun is in the evidence locker, if you want it. It was his granddaddy’s gun. Old Ansel taught him how to shoot when Rafer was twelve, taught him how to use the gun in self-defense, and only in self-defense.” He took the keys and disappeared through the door to the cell.
“Stand down, guys. Good show.” Kraus turned to Griffin. “You sure you’re all right with this plan?”
Griffin thought asking the sheriff to actually cooperate would be a near-perfect minefield. “Yes, but the fact is I doubt we can trust him, even though we do need him for the moment. He knows the people and the area.”
Kraus said, “Agreed. And arresting him now might cause more trouble than it’s worth.” She patted Griffin’s arm. “I’ve always believed in keeping your enemies close, Agent Hammersmith.”
“I’ll bet the duct tape from Rafer’s basement is long gone. And yes, he’ll try to sabotage me, both he and the other real power in the station, Fayreen. I think we’ll know soon enough what tack they’ll take. I imagine he’ll be on his cell phone to every one of his deputies, the wounded hero with The Man’s heel on his neck.
“Is everyone hungry? If so, I’ll call Jenny, see about that dinner she promised. Carson and I already ate something, but not much. We could force down a bite or two.”
“Sounds good to me,” Kraus said, “as soon as we get everything secure. Vickie, you can take some food to DeAndre and Slick later or I’ll never hear the end to it. Oh, and don’t forget DeAndre likes lots of Parmesan on his spaghetti. Lead the way, Griffin.”
Griffin said, “We’ll meet you at Jenny’s house—it’s 201 Cedar Lane. I think Carson and I will walk, enjoy the evening now that we’re out of the slammer.”
“You convicts are all the same,” Kraus said, and grinned at him. “See you shortly. Ah, thanks for the change of pace, Griffin. You know this story will make the rounds.”
28
* * *
There was next to no traffic when Griffin and Carson stepped out of the station. The evening had cooled down and the trees rustled with a light breeze. Gaffer’s Ridge was closing down for the night. They walked a moment in silence before Griffin said, his voice light, “It’s been quite a day for both of us, especially you. Here I was, tired from a hard case and walking around town to avoid taking a nap after Jenny fed me lunch. I was thinking of nothing more than what kind of furniture to buy for my new condo in Washington, when suddenly your voice was yelling in my head. I wanted to talk with you about your gift. When it came to you, that sort of thing.”
Carson stopped, turned to face him. “So this was why you wanted to walk. You wanted to see if I was all right with all that happened. Between us. In our brains.”
He nodded, kicked a pebble from the path.
She sighed. “It’s all so very weird. And no, it wasn’t new to me.”
“Tell me how it came about.”
“I was in a bad car accident when I was seventeen, left me in a coma for a week. When I was finally swimming back to the surface, I heard someone speaking. The voice sounded distant, and it sounded
somehow odd. I came to discover she wasn’t speaking to me. She was thinking about dinner and what she’d make and how her louse ex-husband was picking up her daughter at eight o’clock. I couldn’t believe it. It was a nurse. When I opened my eyes to see her, I said, ‘Why is your ex-husband a louse?’ I thought she’d faint, then I guess she decided she’d said it out loud. It’s happened only a few times, and it’s always unexpected. I’ve never been able to make it happen. I remember when I was walking down Madison in New York next to a man in a business suit. I heard all about his presentation to his boss that morning and how he’d nailed it. I couldn’t help it. When I passed him, I smiled big and congratulated him on impressing his boss. He gave me a weird look and nearly broke into a run to get away from me. The last time it happened, one day last year, I was walking toward Fiftieth and Fifth to shop a sale at Saks. I ran into this young man, a complete stranger, like Rafer Bodine. And his thoughts were as loud as Rafer’s. He was insanely happy. He’d just gotten married and all he could think about was his bride. He was very graphic about it. I remember I simply stopped and stared at him. I don’t think he ever noticed me. He continued on his way, nearly skipping he was so happy. I told my mom each time it happened. Bless her, she hugged me, whispered against my ear, ‘Another amazing part of you, Carson. Enjoy it, use it, appreciate it, and don’t let it worry you.’
“Then there was Rafer, hearing him thinking about the three kidnapped girls.” She sighed. “I’ve studied this gift you and I have. Do you know, I haven’t found a single medical explanation. Sure, there are gazillions of references to people getting the ‘sight’ after a head trauma, but nothing you’d call legitimate research. Now, how about you?”
He said, “The first time I was maybe fifteen. I heard my mother’s thoughts. I’d just walked in from school, real quiet. I wanted to surprise her, give her a little scare, when her voice sounded in my head, ‘I know you want to scare me into gray hair, Griffin, but not this time. I’ve got a bone to pick with you.’ ”
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