Justice Burning (Darren Street Book 2)

by Scott Pratt

  “Do I have to?”

  “It’d be best, Sammy. You don’t want this to go sideways on you. I just want to make sure you’re protected. Go on now. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Will this place be cleaned up?” Sammy asked. “Will your guys get all that blood out of there?”

  “Sorry. We’ll take the bodies, but the rest will be up to you.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “How’d it go?” Big Pappy said into the phone after I’d checked into a hotel off Interstate 64 about thirty miles outside of Lexington, Kentucky. I’d killed Frazier and Beane around eight o’clock and then driven four hours to Lexington. I’d finish the drive into Knoxville the next morning.

  “It went,” I said.

  “They come out early? I didn’t expect to hear from you for at least another couple of hours.”

  “I did it inside the bar. There was nobody else there, and the bartender went to the restroom.”

  “And nobody saw you?”

  “The bartender, but he isn’t going to say anything.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he loved his mother.”

  “Loved his mother? What are you talking about, Darren? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “He won’t say anything,” I said. “Trust me. He hated those two guys. They were ruining his business, and when I told him they’d raped my mother, he pretty much gave me the green light to do whatever I wanted.”

  “You told him they’d raped your mother?”

  “Just to throw the cops off a little.”

  “He’s still a witness. You should have killed him.”

  “I had no reason to kill him.”

  “So how did it go down?”

  “The bartender went into the bathroom, and I walked up to their booth and did what I went there to do.”

  “Are you sure they’re dead?”

  “Positive. I unloaded the whole clip on them, and I shot them both in the head at least three times.”

  “Damn, Darren. I can’t believe you really did it. How do you feel about it now that it’s over?”

  “I don’t regret it, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “That’s not what I’m asking. How do you feel after taking somebody’s life?”

  “Powerful,” I said.

  “That’s some pretty heavy stuff, man. It’s the same thing I’ve felt when I’ve killed people.”

  “How many have you killed, Pappy?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I guess not, but it doesn’t seem like heavy stuff to me. I feel like I’ve had a huge weight lifted from me. I feel free.”

  The feeling I was experiencing was something I hadn’t expected. I thought I would feel some pangs of guilt or remorse, maybe some horror over the realization that I was capable of committing such a violent act, but I felt none of those things. I felt empowered, relieved, and, like I told Pappy, free of the burden I’d been carrying around, knowing the men who murdered my mother were still breathing.

  “So we’re sticking to the plan going forward?”

  “I’ll have the car at the Flying J by noon tomorrow. I’ll leave the gun and the ID in the trunk. I’m trusting you to take care of those things. I have the clothes I was wearing, and the disguise, in a gym bag here in the room. I’m going to stop at this piece of property where I’ve been shooting and burn everything. It’s so far in the boonies nobody will ever think to look there.”

  “What are you going to do when you get back to town?”

  “After I drop the car off, I’ll take a cab to the storage place where I left mine. Then I’ll go to Grace’s. I’ve been neglecting her, and I plan to set that right.”

  “Neglecting her how?”

  “Lots of ways, but I’m going to fix everything.”

  “What about your law practice? Going back to work?”

  “I’m going to act like nothing has happened. Business as usual.”

  “Congratulations, brother,” Pappy said.

  “On what?”

  “On becoming a member of the fraternity. Not everybody has what it takes to do what you did tonight.”

  He disconnected the call, and I thought about what he’d said. He’d actually congratulated me for becoming a killer. I shrugged my shoulders and muttered to myself, “Thanks, I guess.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Will Grimes pulled into Donnie Frazier’s girlfriend’s driveway on Williams River Road a little before midnight. Neither Frazier nor Beane had had identification on them, but Sammy Raft had known them and knew where they lived. He’d also known about Frazier’s girlfriend, and had told Grimes about her. As soon as Grimes parked the department-issued Ford Edge in front of a run-down trailer, the car was surrounded by four snarling, barking Dobermans. Grimes began to blow the car’s horn. A woman finally came out, wrapped in a thick robe to protect herself from the chilly night air. He flashed his blue lights, lowered the window a little, and yelled at the woman to get control of the dogs. It took her several minutes, but eventually the dogs were herded into a chain-link-fenced pen between her and the trailer to Grimes’s right.

  As soon as Grimes saw the woman shut the door on the gate, he got out of the car and walked toward her.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  “Are you Emma Newland?”

  “Who wants to know?”

  Grimes produced his shield. “Name’s Will Grimes. I’m a special agent with the Criminal Bureau of Investigation. Can we talk inside for a minute?”

  On the way over, Grimes had asked for a criminal history on Emma Newland and found only a ten-year-old shoplifting case and some traffic tickets.

  “Let’s talk right here,” Newland said.

  “Fine,” Grimes said. “I’m sorry to tell you that your boyfriend, Donnie Frazier, and his friend Tommy Beane were killed earlier tonight. They were shot to death at Sammy’s.”

  The woman seemed to stagger backward, and Grimes reached for her arm. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t . . . it’s just . . . I’m gonna need a minute.”

  Grimes knew Emma Newland was thirty-two, but she looked twenty years older. Her hair was a dull brown and her face was puffy and pale. Her teeth were ravaged, probably by meth abuse, and her shoulders sagged.

  “Can we talk inside, please, Miss Newland?” Grimes said.

  She turned toward the trailer without saying a word and climbed the rickety stoop. Grimes walked into a small box of filth and stench that nearly made him gag. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes and cups and silverware, the one trash can he could see was overflowing, the stove top was filthy, and the place smelled like a honky-tonk toilet at two in the morning. The only light that was on was in the kitchen, which was just to the right of the entrance. Emma Newland trudged to a small table and sat down heavily. She looked up at Grimes with sad brown eyes, lit a cigarette, and said, “Any idea who did it?” She wasn’t crying, and Grimes wondered whether, at this point in her life, she was even capable of tears. She looked like she’d had it rough.

  “I was hoping you could help me with that,” he said. “Anything unusual happen lately? Anything that might have brought this on? I don’t mean to be cruel to you, Miss Newland, but they were each shot several times. They were ambushed in the bar. Apparently, someone just walked in and started shooting. The owner says he was in the bathroom and didn’t get a look at the shooter, but whoever it was, we think he was very angry about something.”

  “People get angry,” Emma pointed out.

  “I agree, but it isn’t often they get angry enough to do what was done in that bar. Donnie and Tommy didn’t have a chance.” Grimes watched closely as Emma took a drag off the cigarette and looked down at her shoes. He was looking for something, anything that might give him an in, a way to find out whether this woman knew anything that would help him. “I won’t arrest you.”

  She raised her tired eyes. “For what?”

  “For anything. I need to know why this h
appened, and if you can help me, even if you may have had something to do with a crime they committed, I won’t hold you accountable. I’m after the person who committed two vicious murders tonight.”

  “I didn’t have nothing to do with what they did,” Emma said.

  “Who is they, and what did they do?”

  “Donnie and Tommy. I knew they shouldn’t a done it,” she said.

  “Done what?”

  “Blew up that house.”

  “They blew up a house? Where?”

  Emma snuffed the cigarette out in an ashtray already filled with butts and folded her arms across her chest. “Knoxville. Belonged to some lawyer’s momma. I don’t know the whole story, but I heard them talking about it. A little over a month ago, Donnie and Tommy stole a bunch of dynamite, went down to Knoxville, and blew up this lawyer’s momma’s house. The lawyer was supposed to be there, only he wasn’t. They killed his momma, but they missed him. I’m guessing that could be the man you’re looking for.”

  Grimes had heard of the bombing in Knoxville. It had been all over the news for a couple of days. “So you knew all about this dynamite thing in Tennessee before it happened and didn’t tell anybody?”

  “I heard them talking about it, but I wasn’t sure they would actually do it,” she said. “They were always talking crazy shit. Besides, I wasn’t looking to wind up at the bottom of one of these old coal-mining shafts around here with my head blown off. That’s exactly what would’ve happened if I’d told anybody.”

  “Is there anything around here from the bombing in Tennessee? They leave anything lying around?”

  “I don’t think so. To hear them tell it, they used everything. Donnie said the explosion looked like a nuclear blast. He said it shook the earth, blew his mind.”

  “Will you give us permission to search your property?”

  “I reckon, as long as you ain’t gonna charge me with nothing.”

  “I already told you I won’t charge you with anything.”

  “You might find some meth and some pipes, shit like that. Maybe a little bit of stolen property from houses they broke into.”

  “I’ll need you to sign a statement.”

  “Fine.”

  “Okay, sit tight. I’m going to go outside and make a couple of calls. Looks like we’re going to be up all night.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Will Grimes walked into the interview room at his headquarters in Elkins and set a piece of paper in front of Sammy Raft. Grimes had slept for only two hours in his car and was exhausted. Grimes had made Raft follow him from Cowen to Elkins, and had then put Raft in an interview room by himself. He’d been stewing for half an hour.

  Raft was fidgeting with a Styrofoam coffee cup when Grimes walked in. “I need you to sign this.”

  “What is it?” Raft asked.

  “It’s a Miranda waiver. It says you’re willing to give up your right to remain silent and talk to me. You need to know that anything you say can be used against you in court later if you wind up getting charged with a crime.”

  “Are you planning to charge me with a crime?” Raft said.

  “Depends,” Grimes said. “Sign it.”

  Raft signed the paper and said, “Depends on what? I didn’t do anything.”

  “It depends on whether you lie to me. I don’t think you killed those boys, but I think you know who did.”

  “You’re wrong,” Raft said. “I didn’t know him.”

  Grimes raised his eyebrows. He knew the story Raft told him wasn’t entirely true. “So you saw him.”

  Grimes watched Raft’s shoulders slump. He’d been reluctant to come to Elkins, and now Grimes knew why.

  “I don’t want to get involved,” Raft said. “I ain’t got no idea who the man was. I only saw him for a second, didn’t hardly look at him.”

  “But you saw him shoot Donnie and Tommy, right?”

  “No. I’m telling the truth about that. I went to the bathroom. He was sitting at the bar when I went in the bathroom, and all of a sudden the damn place sounded like a war zone. I was scared outta my mind. There wasn’t no way I was walking back out of that bathroom until I was sure he was gone. Matter of fact, I expected him to come in there and shoot me rather than leave a witness behind.”

  “Okay, we’re doing better, Sammy.” Grimes took a sip from his own cup of steaming coffee. He felt tired and lethargic and needed the caffeine to give him a boost. What they said about murder investigations was true: the first forty-eight hours were the most important. He didn’t need to be wasting time. “Now I want you to start from the beginning. Don’t leave anything out. And remember, lying to me will only cause you problems down the road.”

  “I saw him twice,” Raft said reluctantly.

  “Twice?”

  “Yeah. He came in the afternoon and ordered takeout. Then he came back around eight.”

  “Did he order anything the second time?”

  “Longneck Budweiser.”

  “What’d you do with the bottle?”

  “I emptied it and threw it away. He didn’t even touch it.”

  “He ordered a beer and didn’t touch it?”

  “Right.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “You’d have to ask him.”

  “Did he touch the bar, a glass, a knife, fork, anything?”

  “I don’t think so. He was wearing gloves, anyway.”

  “What about when he came in the afternoon? Touch anything?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “Drink anything then?”

  “A can of Pepsi, but he took it with him.”

  “Did he say anything when he came back later?”

  “He told me to go into the bathroom. Said he had a problem with the two boys in the booth, and there was going to be trouble. Said I could go into the bathroom or die with them.”

  “You didn’t have a cell? Why didn’t you call the police from the bathroom?”

  “You’re kidding, right? We’re talking about Cowen here. Besides, my cell was under the bar. I don’t carry it in my pocket when I’m working.”

  “Describe him,” Grimes said.

  “I don’t know,” Raft said. “He was normal height and build, I guess. I mean, he wasn’t real tall or real short or real skinny or fat. He was wearing dark clothes and a black toboggan, already told you about the gloves. Didn’t see his hair, but he had a brown beard and was wearing black-rimmed glasses.”

  “I learned a couple of things last night that caused me to call the Tennessee Highway Patrol and the Knoxville, Tennessee, Police Department,” Grimes said. He reached into a folder and pulled out two photographs. “One of these is a booking photo from a few years ago, and the other is a much more recent driver’s license photo. I want you take a look and see if this could be the man who was in your bar. His name is Darren Street, and Donnie Frazier and Tommy Beane were suspected of murdering his mother.”

  Grimes slid the photos across the table, and Raft stared at them.

  “Take your time,” Grimes said.

  Raft shook his head. “It isn’t him. I told you, the man had a beard and wore glasses.”

  “Imagine this man with a beard and glasses,” Grimes said.

  “It’s not him.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “You’re absolutely positive.”

  “I’m telling you, it isn’t him. You trying to get me to tell you something that isn’t true?”

  “I don’t think you’re telling me the truth about much of anything,” Grimes said.

  Raft shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

  “I want you to tell me that the man in those photographs is the same man that walked into your bar and murdered Frazier and Beane last night.”

  “That isn’t gonna happen because it just isn’t so,” Raft said.

  “We can protect you, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Grimes said.

  “You alread
y threatened to arrest me, and now you’re trying to put words in my mouth. I don’t think I want any protection from you. Are we done? Can I go now?”

  “Go on. Get the hell out of here,” Grimes said. “I’m tired, and I don’t have time to fool with the likes of you right now. But don’t think for one second this is over. I’ll be back, and when I come back, I’ll have a warrant for your arrest.”

  CHAPTER 18

  When I left Lexington the next morning, I drove to Marty Henley’s leased property near Petros and built a huge fire from deadfall that I found not far from their shooting range. I burned the clothing I was wearing when I shot Frazier and Beane, along with the beard and the glasses. The spirit gum glue I used to secure the beard and the fake ID also went into the fire. I’d tossed one of the burner phones off a bridge near the interstate in Lexington; the others I put back in the backpack in the trunk, along with $10,000 in cash. I’d spent only a few hundred of the $20,000 Pappy had given me, and I kept around $9,000, just in case I needed cash for anything I hadn’t thought about. I didn’t think Pappy would mind.

  I parked the car at the Flying J in Knoxville around two in the afternoon, went inside the truck stop, and used a pay phone to call a cab. The truck stops were one of the few places that still had pay phones. The cab picked me up ten minutes later, and I had the driver take me to the storage facility where I’d picked up the Monte Carlo and left my car. I got the car out and headed to Grace’s.

  She wasn’t home, so I picked up my cell phone that I’d left in the kitchen and called her. She was surprised that I was back so soon and said she was at the grocery store and would be home in about half an hour.

  She walked in a little while later, carrying several plastic bags in each hand. She was wearing black jeans and a tight red sweater and was suddenly the sexiest woman I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her. I reached down and took the bags from her, set them on the kitchen table, and lifted her off the floor. I carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed.

  She looked up at me seductively and smiled. “I take it you got some things worked out.”