Running From the Law

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Running From the Law Page 8

by Albright, Jami


  “Hank, you don’t have to ask your secretary to pick up my kid. I’ll work something out if that happens. I guess I can call Ariel, even though asking Derek’s girlfriend to do anything makes me want to drive a nail through my eye.”

  He laughed. “Barb won’t mind. She’s always looking for an excuse to get out of here. Not sure what that says about me.”

  “You’re perfect, Hank. Thank you for being the one stable man in Lottie’s life.”

  “You don’t have to thank me for that.”

  “How are things with Karen?”

  He took a deep breath and blew it out. “Slow going, but we’re getting there.”

  “I admire you for trying to make it work. As someone who’s been cheated on, I don’t know how you can try again. It killed me, and any trust I had in Derek.”

  He tossed the pen on the desk then rubbed the tension headache forming between his eyes. “I made mistakes too, Hailey. I left her alone a lot, and I wasn’t emotionally available. Damn, I sound like a PSA for marriage counseling.”

  “I picked the wrong brother. Just one more reason to hate Charlie Klein. She already had you wrapped up by the time I met you and Derek.”

  “Haven’t you seen her since she’s been back?”

  She snorted. “No. I’ve got nothing to say to her. She dumped us—all of us—and I can’t forgive her for that. I just wished I’d realized it before I named Lottie after her. But I was young and stupid about a lot of things. There’s a reason sixteen-year-olds shouldn’t get pregnant and married.”

  “You’re the best mother Lottie could ever have. And don’t say that about Charlie. I think she could probably use a friend right now.”

  “Oh, yeah. I heard she’s not mentally stable. Like she ever was.”

  “That’s a lie, Hailey. You know it is. I just saw her, Wardell and Honey last night at the City Cafe and she’s perfectly fine. That’s just Hollywood shit.”

  “Okay, fine, she’s not crazy, but I still don’t want to have anything to do with her. Besides, she hasn’t reached out to me either.”

  “Yeah, I think she’s been pretty busy with Wardell’s care.”

  “How is he?”

  He relaxed back in his desk chair. “Good, I think. Still has a limp, but he seems to be back to his normal self.”

  “Glad to hear it. Well, I better go. We just got a delivery, and I need to inventory it. Thanks again, Hank.”

  “No problem.”

  He disconnected the call. And choked off Charlie’s memory. Then he checked his watch. He had ten minutes until Agent Sheridan arrived. He slid his thumb across the screen and typed out a quick text to Karen.

  I wanted you to know I was thinking about you. I hope you have a great day.

  He’d get their marriage back on track if it killed him. He wasn’t a quitter. Maybe if his brothers saw him fighting for his marriage it would teach them the lesson they needed to learn.

  His office phone rang and he grabbed it on the first ring. “Morning, Barb.”

  “Morning, Sheriff. There are two DEA agents here to see you. Agent Sheridan and Agent Murphy.” She sounded like she smelled something bad.

  “Send ’em in, Barb.”

  He stood and greeted the DEA agents. “Hank Odom.”

  “John Sheridan, and this is Julie Murphy.”

  He extended his hand to the woman, who could be a model if not for her cop eyes. “How are you?”

  “Just fine, Sheriff. Thanks for meeting with us.”

  “Y’all take a seat.” He moved behind his desk and prepared to be put in his place. This was the shitty part of the law enforcement hierarchy. State and local government always played second fiddle to the feds. “What can I do for you folks?”

  The two agents glanced at each other. “Go ahead, John,” Agent Murphy said.

  “Sheriff, we think you have a drug smuggling ring forming in Blister County, and we could sure use your help.”

  Hank didn’t know what was more surprising—the fact that they’d asked for his help or the fact that they thought there was a drug smuggling ring in Blister County. “Can you give me more details?”

  “Sure.” Agent Murphy pulled a folder from her bag and slid it across the desk to him.

  He surveyed the photo of an aerial view of someone’s property. He glanced between the two agents. “What am I looking at?”

  “Golden Leaf Garden and Holistic Farm,” Agent Murphy said.

  He rested his arms on top of the photo. “And…”

  The agents exchanged another look. “We believe that cocaine is being smuggled through Golden Leaf Garden and Holistic Farm,” Agent Sheridan said.

  Hank couldn’t control the snort of laughter that escaped him. “I’m sorry. But Ji and Lin Chang are not in the smuggling business. They’re scared of their own shadows, honest to a fault, and they give back to the community. Where did you get your information?”

  “We don’t believe they are either. But we’re fairly certain their son Thomas is, along with a man named Raul Perez.”

  “How? I mean, how are they transporting the drugs?”

  “We’ve noticed an increase in cocaine in small towns from the Mexican border north, and Perez seems to be the only thing these towns have in common. On the surface, he’s a new-age guy that distributes essential oils and plants to organic nurseries. He delivers his legit products in recyclable crates that we believe have a false bottom, and that’s where he stores the drugs. Our working assumption is that he drops them off, the shop owners unload their product, then the drug dealers, dressed like Perez’s employees, come back the next day and pick up his crates, where they retrieve the drugs.”

  “If you’ve had him on your radar, why haven’t you arrested him yet?” Hank thought he knew the answer, but he wasn’t doing anything with the DEA based on assumption.

  “It’s unknown if Perez is working alone or involved in a cartel, so for now we’re watching and waiting while we build our case. We want to cut off the snake’s head, not just kill it.”

  “Is he coming up from Mexico? Is Border Patrol involved?” Hank made a few notes on the pad in front of him.

  “No. He’s not crossing the border with the drugs. We believe he has a place here in the states that he either manufactures the drugs or gets them from someone in the states,” Murphy said.

  “And you think Thomas Chang is involved?”

  The agent shrugged. “We’re not entirely sure of anything right now as it pertains to Blister County, except the two men are doing business together. Perez has been making his way north from Mexico over the last year.”

  Hank shook his head to clear it. If this was true it would hurt two really good people. “Alright, what would you like me to do?”

  “We want you to keep an eye on Thomas. If you’re out and about and see him, note who he meets and where. We just need eyes on him while we build the case. We don’t want him taking off on us.”

  Hank’s fingernails dug into his palms. “I need a promise from you.”

  “Okay,” Agent Murphy said.

  “I need your word that you’ll give the Changs the fairest shake possible. They’re about to lose their son, I don’t want them to lose their business too.” He knew it was a ridiculous request. They didn’t make those kinds of decisions. But he wanted them to know his stance on the matter.

  They stood to leave. “We’ll do our best, Hank. Can we count on your cooperation?” Agent Sheridan asked.

  Hank came around his desk and opened the door for them. He extended his hand. “Anything I can do to help.”

  “We appreciate it, Sheriff Odom.” Agent Murphy hiked her bag higher on her shoulder.

  He closed the door behind them and leaned his head on the hard surface. “Shit.” All he wanted to do was run to the Changs and tell them to get out now, but he couldn’t. His job was to uphold the law, and sometimes he had to do the hard stuff in order to do the right thing.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I hate i
t when I’m right.” Charlie sped out of Zachsville on her way to Austin. Great, now she was talking to herself. Maybe Ron was right—maybe she was losing it.

  She’d woken up this morning with a renewed sense of…something. Ron would not beat her. Life would not beat her. She’d packed up every bottle of lotion and moisturizer she had in a wicker basket, dressed in her cutest, flirtiest dress, and headed to town to see if she could get some of the local shops to stock them for her.

  The beauty salon was her first stop. What a crazy house. Those women all wanted a selfie with her, but none of them could see the screen without their glasses, but they didn’t want their photo taken with their glasses on because it made ’em look old.

  She didn’t care. The more selfies she took, the more bottles of lotion she sold.

  Excitement over having money in her purse because people had bought something she made was a shot of adrenaline to her resolve to be self-sufficient.

  It was a foreign concept. She’d never taken care of herself. First her mother had run her life, but she was nothing compared to Ron. Once they hired him, he took over the duties of dictating Charlie’s every move.

  The irony that she’d been making all the money and should’ve had the power was one of the great paradigms of children in show business. The inequality of it all was what usually drove child stars to rebel.

  Not her. She’d always been a good little compliant girl, and look what it had gotten her. Her name slandered by the one person who knew her best and who’d profited the most from her. And now everyone in Zachsville thought she was batshit crazy.

  As she went in and out of one business after the other, she’d inquired about whether they were hiring or not. Even if they had a sign in the window they told her no. Then they looked nervous, like she might have a running, screaming fit.

  She was upset alright, and seriously wanted to run screaming through the streets with Ron’s head on a pike. But her murderous rage only extended to him…for now.

  The bottom line was, no one in Zachsville would hire her. Hence this trip to Austin to hopefully find something there.

  She hated to do it. Austin was an hour away from Zachsville, and that was farther away from her grandfather than she wanted to be. Besides, the thought of gas eating up the money she needed made her sick to her stomach.

  Her cell rang and she hit the Bluetooth button on the steering wheel. “Hello.”

  “Charlie, it’s Howard Leibowitz.”

  Oh, thank God, it was her attorney. It’d been hell waiting on him to return her call from the day before. “Howard, thanks for returning my call. I think I need your help.” She wasn’t really sure how to handle this. He and Ron had always taken care of any legal issues she might have.

  Silence.

  “Howard, are you still there?” She kept one eye on a blue truck barreling down on her.

  “I’m here, Charlie. You should call Ron.” The nerves in the man’s voice made him sound like a warped record.

  “What? Why would I call the man who’s told lies about me to the media and who’s threatening to sue me?” She eased off the accelerator and let the truck pass. The teenage boy in the passenger seat mooned her as they drove past. Nice.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you, Charlie. Call Ron.”

  “Howard, if you tell me to talk to Ron one more time, I’m going to—wait. Why do you want me to call Ron?”

  “Um…I think it would be best if you spoke to Ron yourself.”

  “You little weasel, you’re in on this too, aren’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Of course you are. Is Marci? Have you all three been conspiring against me? For how long, Howard? How long have you three been plotting against me?”

  “Charlie, stop being so dramatic. For the love of God, haven’t Ron, Marci, and I always taken care of you? This will all work out. If you just call Ron, I’m sure you’ll see that.” The click, click, click of a pen on Howard’s end of the line was a sure sign he was nervous.

  “Oh, you think I’m being dramatic now?”

  “Call Ron.”

  The line went dead. It was just as well he hung up on her. She was about to make a bunch of threats that she had no way of enforcing. She set her elbow on the door and rested her head in her hand, while she steered the car with a death grip on the steering wheel. Tears burned her throat and pinched her eyes. This was about as bad as it could get.

  No one in her life had prepared her to handle something like this. She didn’t know why she’d thought she could get a straight answer from Howard. He’d always been Ron’s lackey. He and Marci both did exactly what her ex-manager told them to do. She’d gone to Howard for help, and all he could say was, call Ron, call Ron, call Ron.

  Hell would be an ice rink with skating pink flamingos before she called Ron for any reason ever again.

  The glare from Boon’s Saloon’s giant sign nearly blinded her and made it hard to see the road for a second. The local dance hall that everyone just called Boon’s, situated just outside of Zachsville, was the oldest dance hall in Texas. They had a plaque to prove it. Her best friend Hailey’s mother had owned it when she used to live here. Her heart sank when she thought of Hailey. She’d left without a word to Hailey and Hank. She hadn’t been able to see them and still leave. She and Hailey had been like sisters. They’d even snuck around with brothers.

  She hadn’t reached out to Hailey when she’d gotten back to town. She knew the woman probably hated her, and she hadn’t had the emotional energy to cope with the problem. Also, dealing with a disabled grandfather, losing all her money, and an unplanned pregnancy meant she wasn’t at her best. Lord, her life was an after-school special.

  A help wanted sign caught her eye and she yanked the car into the parking lot. The front of the building rose up in front of her. Did she want to work in a dance hall? Not really, but she also didn’t want to work in Austin. She maneuvered the car into a spot by the front door. She probably wouldn’t get the job anyway. She had zero experience, including serving drinks.

  Oh, well, plucky Charlie Kay from her television show would just waltz right in there and fake her way through any kind of interview. Of course, Charlie Kay would’ve already solved her money problems by having a lemonade sale and getting a local businessman to buy her beverage recipe for a million dollars, then sing a song about it. End of episode, end of problem.

  Too bad life didn’t work like that.

  She thought of The Pod and how expensive she’d heard those little things were, besides the fact that she didn’t have insurance anymore. That thought drove her from the car and right through the front door of Boon’s Saloon. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, the interior of the windowless building was dark. A minute or two to let her eyes adjust to the gloominess gave her time to assess the place. There were tables on three sides of a large dance floor that took up most of the huge room, and a bar ran almost the whole width of the building at the end.

  This was a mistake. She should leave.

  “Please say you’re here because you want a job.” A woman stood behind the bar with her back to Charlie. Her dark hair bundled on her head was thick and curly.

  “Yes.” Her vocal chords scraped against each other to create a croak.

  “Come on over and have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.” The woman never turned around but waved her hand toward the end of the bar.

  “Okay, thank you.”

  The woman walked through the swinging doors behind the bar as Charlie sat down. “So what experience do you have?” her potential boss called out from behind the doors.

  This was it—when they told her thanks, but no thanks. “I don’t actually have any experience, but I’m a quick learner.”

  The woman’s bun bobbed around just beyond the door. “Girl, I don’t even care. I’ll train you myself. We’re desperate for help.”

  What? This w
as fantastic. “That’s great.”

  “When can you start?” The brunette came through the door and skidded to a stop.

  Oh, shit. “Surprise.” Charlie fanned her hands out by her face. “Good to see you, Hailey.”

  “You’re fired.”

  “You haven’t officially hired me yet.”

  Hailey reached up and adjusted her bun. “Good. Now leave.”

  “You said I could have the job. You said you were desperate.”

  Brown eyes speared Charlie to the spot. “Not desperate enough to hire you.”

  “But—”

  “Get out of my bar.”

  Charlie cocked her head to the side. “You own the bar now?”

  Hailey crossed her arms. “What do you care?”

  “I care. I’ve always cared.”

  “Don’t give me that load—”

  “Mama!” A little brown-haired beauty came running around the bar and threw herself at Hailey. “I got to ride in Uncle Hank’s squad car.”

  Uncle Hank? Oh, hell no.

  “You did? Well, isn’t that fun.”

  “Lottie, are you gonna make me carry this backpack all the way to your house?” Hank came ambling in looking better than he had any right to look.

  “Lottie? You named her Lottie?” Hope that Hailey didn’t hate every part of their past together wiggled and came to life.

  The little girl turned to Charlie. “My name is Charlotte Claire Odom, but everyone calls me Lottie. And you’re Charlie Kay.” Her big eyes looked from her mother to Hank, then back to Charlie.

  “Yes, I am.” This little thing was adorable and Charlie loved her instantly.

  “What are you doing here?” The reverence in Lottie’s voice made it sound like she was speaking inside a church rather than an old honky-tonk.

  “I’m trying to get a job from your mom.”

  “Are you going to work here?”

  She only felt a little bad for what she was about to do. “That depends on your mom.” She lifted her eyes to Hailey and grinned.

  Lottie spun to Hailey. “Is she, Mom? Is she going to work here? I can tell all my friends that Charlie Kay works at my mom’s bar. Please say yes.” She folded her hands under her chin. “Please, please, please.”

 

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