Rigged

by D P Lyle

  “Everything. If I had the time. But I’ll settle for a couple of those ham and cheese croissants, three chocolate donuts, and a bear claw. Make that two of them.”

  “You got it.” She began filling a white paper bag.

  “Add a bran muffin. I better get something for Ray.”

  Allison waved the tongs she held over the display case. “I might be able to make rent this month.”

  “Just trying to help the local economy.”

  “Here you go.” She handed him the bag.

  Nicole and I hit the street. Our next stop was Watkins’ Lumber. As usual, it was busy. Workers loaded two trucks out front. Inside, a dozen customers stalked the aisles for wood, tools, and gadgets. We found Fred Watkins out back. Supervising two guys who were loading lumber onto another flatbed truck.

  “Mr. Watkins?”

  He turned, nodded.

  “We wanted to say we’re sorry to hear about Sean,” Nicole said.

  “Quite a shock,” he said. “Still hard to believe. I mean, first his wife. Now him. Sometimes this planet doesn’t make sense.”

  A worker walked up. Handed him a clipboard. Watkins signed the top page and returned it.

  He looked at us. “You been working with Chief Warren? Right?”

  “We have.”

  “She have any suspects yet?”

  I shook my head. “Not really.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  “We wanted to talk to Becky Woodley,” Nicole said.

  Confusion slid over his face. “Why?”

  “About the robbery. She and Sean were the only ones here at the time. Right?”

  “That’s right.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Maybe nothing,” I said. “But Sean was robbed. Then murdered. It’s simply something that needs looking at.”

  “You saying the robbery and his murder are connected in some way?”

  “We have no evidence of that. None at all.” Not exactly the truth, but that would work for now. “We have to look under every rock.”

  I was getting pretty good at this deceit thing. First Allison, now Watkins. Wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Nicole gave me an expressionless glance, but I saw a slight smile in her eyes. Like a proud mother.

  “So why talk to Becky?” Watkins asked.

  “She saw the robbers. Masked, but she saw them. Maybe she’ll remember something that’ll help track them down.”

  “Then maybe we’ll know if they had anything to do with Sean’s murder or not,” Nicole said.

  “Guess that makes sense. Becky isn’t here yet. She had some stuff to do.” He glanced at his black sports watch. “Should be here in an hour or so.”

  We thanked him and left. Nicole said she was hungry. I swear Pancake rubbed off on her more every day.

  “We should’ve gotten something over at the bakery,” I said.

  “I wasn’t hungry then.”

  I suggested The Rib Shack. Nicole said Whitney might be there and maybe we could get her take on things. I replied that with Sean’s murder she might have taken the day off. Certainly wouldn’t blame her.

  Whitney was there. Behind the bar, standing across from Lauren Schultz, seated on a barstool. Lauren had her notebook open, taking notes, Whitney talking, hands orchestrating whatever she was saying.

  “Whitney, Lauren,” I said as we walked up.

  “Hey,” Lauren said. “What’s up?”

  “Same old,” I said. Then to Whitney, “How’re you doing?”

  “Been better.”

  “We’re so sorry,” Nicole said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Actually, we didn’t expect to see you here.”

  “Better to work than sit home and let the wheels spin.” Her eyes moistened.

  “I understand,” I said.

  “We were just talking about it,” Lauren said. “It’s awful.” She placed her pen on the bar top. “Any idea who could’ve done it?”

  “No. But we’re working on it. Chief Warren is also. We just left her office.”

  “Do you have any thoughts on it?” Nicole asked Whitney.

  Whitney gave a headshake. “I wish. I’ve been racking my brain.” She knuckled the corner of one eye. “Nothing. No one.”

  “What about Reavis Whitt?” I asked. “He and Sean friends?”

  I sensed tension rise in her. Her shoulders elevated slightly, lines in her face hardened. “No. Not at all.”

  “Why was he there? At Sean’s?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Maybe delivering something?” I asked.

  Her lips tightened. “Maybe.” She sniffed. “Look, Sean used marijuana sometimes. I did, too. Not often. He always got it from Reavis. So, probably that’s why he was there.”

  “But you’re not sure?” Nicole asked.

  “No. In fact, he just got some a couple of weeks ago.” Her gaze dropped; she studied the bar top. “Like I said, we didn’t use it much. Seemed like we had plenty.”

  “Maybe he was there for something else?” I asked.

  She looked up at me. “Can’t imagine what. They weren’t friends.”

  “What about Jack Reed?”

  More tension. “What about him? You mean were he and Sean friends?”

  I nodded.

  “Sean didn’t like him. Said he had a mean streak. Never liked being around him.”

  “But was he? Around him at times?”

  “Not that I ever saw. Truth is, I’ve never actually met Jack. Seen him in here before. Not often. All I know is that Sean said he would be with Reavis sometimes when he made a buy and that he didn’t like the guy.”

  Good instincts was my first thought. My second was too bad he didn’t keep his distance from Jack Reed’s world. Unless, of course, he was part of Reed’s world. In which case, karma is a bitch.

  CHAPTER 55

  “WHAT DO YOU want?” Jack Reed asked as he opened his apartment door.

  “A couple of questions,” Pancake said.

  “I’m done talking to you guys.”

  “Problem is, we ain’t finished talking with you.”

  Reed tried to close the door. Pancake stopped it cold with his forearm. Pushed it into Reed, walking him back.

  “Don’t mind if we do,” Pancake said. He continued inside, Ray following. “Neighborly of you to invite us in.”

  “I didn’t.”

  Pancake grunted. “Could’ve sworn I heard you ask us to come on in, grab a seat, chat a while.”

  “You can’t come here and harass me. I have rights. Leave or I’ll call the cops.”

  “Go ahead. It’d be the waste of a dime though. I suspect they’re going to get around to dropping by before too long.”

  “Might even be on the way,” Ray added. “Chief Warren is thorough if nothing else.”

  Pancake moved forward. Reed backpedaled into his living room. Pancake and Ray sat on the sofa.

  “Take a load off,” Pancake said. “Let’s have a talk.”

  Reed hesitated, obviously weighing his options. Apparently finding none that made sense, he eased into the chair opposite them.

  “Just to make sure we heard you correctly yesterday,” Pancake said, “you know nothing about the murders last night?”

  “I told you I didn’t.”

  “And nothing about the earlier ones?” Ray said. “Emily Patterson and Jason Collins?”

  “Why’re you asking about things you already know?”

  Ray smiled. “We don’t really know anything.”

  “We do suspect a lot though,” Pancake said.

  “The only thing we know is what you told us.” Ray leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “But why should we believe anything you say?”

  Reed’s chin jutted forward. “Because it’s the truth.”

  “You hear that?” Ray asked. “Old Jack Reed is speaking the truth.”

  “Is he now?” Pancake said. “Is that the truth, Jac
k? The whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?”

  Reed’s composure was fraying. His gaze couldn’t find a comfortable landing place. “I ain’t lied about nothing.”

  “That a fact?” Pancake stabbed him with a glare. “Or do you sometimes shade things? Maybe not tell the entire truth? Maybe simply fucking lie through your teeth?”

  “I’m not. I told you everything I know.”

  “We’re nice guys,” Ray said. “Until we’re not. I’d prefer we sit here and converse like gentlemen. Like adults. But if you keep lying, I might just turn Pancake loose on your sorry ass.”

  “I don’t want to break all your ribs,” Pancake said. “Maybe puncture a lung, or trash a kidney. But then again, I just might enjoy it.”

  Reed glanced toward the entrance. Probably calculating if he could make it.

  “Wouldn’t try that,” Pancake said.

  “Here’s the question,” Ray said. “You know a guy over in Mobile they call Sandman?”

  Reed stiffened.

  “And let me remind you, you’re under oath here.”

  “I know of him.”

  “You do any dealing for him?”

  Reed hesitated. Pancake thought he looked like his brain might explode. Asking himself what to say, what not to say. Lie or let it out. Pancake balled his fists, relaxed them. Giving him a little incentive.

  “Some. Not much.”

  “Good answer,” Ray said. “You see, we paid him a visit. Lucky for you, that’s exactly what Sandman said.” Ray smiled. “See? Telling the truth isn’t that hard.”

  “You think he’s the one that did this? Killed Reavis?” Reed asked.

  “Do you?”

  “Maybe.”

  Pancake liked that this was moving along according to plan. Give the bad guy an out. Make him think the heat is off him. Get him talking. Let him spill his guts. Make a mistake.

  “He the violent type?” Pancake asked.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me none. I mean, I understand he has some connection with one of the cartels.”

  “We know.”

  Reed actually smiled, getting into it now. Grabbing the rope that might pull him to safety. “Maybe he and his crew decided Reavis and me might rat him out or something. Or maybe he wanted to move his own guys in. Cut us out. And the best way to do that would be if we was gone. So he sent some guys over. Thought it’d be me and Reavis, not Reavis and Sean.”

  “You believe that?” Ray asked.

  “It’d explain everything, wouldn’t it?”

  Pancake nodded. “It would. Except when we left him all snuggled up in his bed, shit in his pants, we felt he was telling us the truth when he said he didn’t know anything about all this. Said it wouldn’t be in his best interest.”

  “You believe him?” Reed asked. “A big-time drug dealer with the cartel behind him?”

  “We do,” Pancake said, thinking it time to toss another lifeline. “What about the Macks? I mean, if it wasn’t Sandman’s guys, could they have done this?”

  Reed rocked back and forth as if his whole body was nodding in agreement. He clutched the offered line firmly. “Sure. Absolutely. They can be ruthless. Especially Reba. That woman is a danger. A menace to the community.”

  Ray looked at Pancake. “Maybe we should take a another look at them?”

  “I would,” Reed said. “Wouldn’t surprise me none if they tried to get rid of me and Reavis.”

  “Why would they do that?” Pancake asked.

  That stumped him. For a few seconds anyway. Then it was as if a light went on. Like a man in quicksand seeing his salvation coming. He spoke fast, his body rocking even faster. Almost like a kid riding a hobby horse. “Maybe they found out we was doing some work with Sandman. Took their revenge. Wanted to send him a message not to come on their turf.” He looked at Pancake expectedly. “Something like that?”

  Pancake nodded. “Makes some sense. Of course, that doesn’t explain the murders of Emily and Jason.”

  Reed had that deer-in-the-headlights look.

  “But you don’t know anything about that.” Pancake stood. Looked down at Reed. Figured he’d toss one more boulder in the pond. “You understand how security cameras work, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Have a nice evening.”

  He and Ray left.

  “He’s the guy,” Pancake said as they walked to his truck.

  “Sure is. Not much doubt.” Ray opened the passenger door.

  “One more thing,” Pancake said.

  He unlocked and opened the metal tool bin welded into the bed of his truck, tugged out one of the duffels inside, rummaged around. He lifted a magnetic GPS tracking device. He held it up.

  “A slight modification to his pickup.”

  CHAPTER 56

  “THANKS FOR SEEING us,” I said to Becky Woodley.

  “Mr. Watkins said you wanted to ask about the robbery.”

  “That’s right. Can you take us through it?”

  “I told the police everything I know,” Becky said. “Which isn’t much.”

  “We’d like to hear it again. Maybe you’ll remember something else.”

  Invoices littered her desktop. She gathered them into a neat stack and set them aside. “What do you want to know?”

  “Tell us what happened. Step by step.”

  “The scariest thing I’ve ever been involved in.” She sighed. “I honestly thought they’d kill us.”

  “Just relax,” Nicole said. “Tell us what you remember.”

  She closed her eyes, as if trying to picture things.

  “It was a Saturday. Closing time. Actually a few minutes past. Mr. Watkins had to leave early so he asked if Sean and I would close up.”

  “That happen often?”

  “Sometimes. He’s a busy man. Seems to work all the time. Too much if you ask me.”

  “Which explains his success,” Nicole said.

  “I guess that’s true. Anyway, we were about done. Everything locked up. Sean was going to walk me to my car. That’s when they came in. Two of them. One tall, the other shorter. Stockier. They had on ski masks. The tall one had a gun. They made us lie on the floor. Me right here—” she pointed to the the area beside her desk. “Sean over there.” Behind where Nicole and I sat. “One of them, the tall one, went to the safe.” She pointed to it. “He tried to open it but it was already locked. He got angry. Stuck the muzzle of his gun against my face.” Her fingers trembled as she touched her right cheek. “It was cold and hard. He said he’d kill me if I didn’t open it.”

  “So you did,” I said.

  “Of course. Wouldn’t you?”

  “I would. No doubt.”

  “Took three tries. I was shaking so badly. My fingers felt numb, almost dead. Wouldn’t do what I wanted them to do. My eyes wouldn’t even focus. That made him even more angry.” She stopped, looked toward the safe. “He rapped the gun barrel against my head. Said I better quit stalling. I told him I wasn’t. I was just scared. I finally got it open. He pushed me to the floor again. Took the money. It was in a bank bag.”

  “Did he rummage around in there?” I asked. “To see what was what?”

  She stared at me and hesitated before she spoke. “You know, he didn’t. I didn’t think of it before, but he seemed to know what he wanted.”

  He did, I thought. Sean had told him.

  “They wrapped us with duct tape. Ankles, wrists, even over our mouths. Then they left.”

  “You guys did manage to get away,” Nicole said. “How long did that take?”

  “Nearly an hour. We scooted toward each other. Then Sean worked my hands free. It wasn’t easy. They’d put a half a dozen wraps around our wrists.”

  “Tell me about the guys,” I said. “You said one was taller and the other stockier. What else did you notice?”

  “You mean besides the gun? They wore all black. Tee shirts. The masks were similar, but one was black, the other dark gray. The tall one had lighter ey
es. Either blue or green. I can’t remember. They both wore plain athletic shoes.”

  “Did you see what brand?”

  She shook her head. “No logos that I saw. The shoes were black. One of them had white laces. The shorter guy.”

  “You have no idea who they were. Right?” Nicole asked.

  She sighed. “No. And I’ve thought about it. A lot.”

  “What about Sean?” I asked. “Did he seem to know them?”

  “He said he didn’t. Told Chief Warren that, too.”

  “Any interactions between them and Sean? Other than him being tied up like you were?”

  “Not really. Except maybe one thing. I hadn’t given it much thought, but now that you mention it. While I was trying to open the safe, I heard the other guy say something to him. More a whisper. I couldn’t hear what was said.” She looked at me. “I figured he was threatening him to stay put and not make trouble. That sort of thing.”

  “Maybe so,” I said.

  “Wait a minute. You aren’t suggesting Sean was in on this, are you?”

  I held her gaze but didn’t respond.

  She leaned forward. Buried her face in her hands for a few seconds, then looked up. “I don’t believe that.” Her lower lip quivered. “I can’t believe that.”

  “Do you know Jack Reed or Reavis Whitt?”

  Her eyes widened. “The guy who was killed with Sean?”

  I nodded. “And his partner in crime.”

  Her breathing became deeper, more rapid. Tears welled in her eyes. “I’ve never met either of them. Never even heard of them.” Her gaze slanted downward. “I don’t believe this.”

  “Let me show you something,” Nicole said.

  She pulled her iPad from her purse and brought up the photos Ray had made at the Macks’. He had sent them to her. She walked around the desk and laid the device before Becky. She flipped through several pictures.

  “Could these two be the guys who robbed you?”

  “That’s Clive and Reba Mack.”

  “Focus on the guys they’re talking to. Could they be them?”

  Becky swiped back and forth, carefully examining each image.

  “They look to be the right size. I couldn’t see their faces. Or their hair.”

  Nicole opened up Ray’s video and began playing it. They watched as the pair said goodbye to the Macks and walked to their truck.