“That’s what I’m afraid of,” said Decker.
Chapter 52
WELL, THIS IS impressive,” Baron said after he opened his front door, looking over the police officers massed behind Lassiter. He was dressed in an old robe and was barefoot.
He glanced at Decker and Jamison, who were off to the side, but didn’t say anything to them.
Lassiter held up a piece of paper. “Search warrant for the house, outbuildings, and grounds. I want you to sit down out here while we do it.”
“Can I at least have a drink first?” said Baron pleasantly.
Lassiter ignored this and said to an officer standing immediately behind her, “Dawes, I want you to stay here and make sure he doesn’t move. I don’t want him to have any chance to hide any evidence, or make a run for it.”
Baron smiled and said, “Well, I don’t run as fast as I used to. And without a drink to bolster me, sitting right here and perhaps falling asleep in the process definitely holds appeal.”
Lassiter gave him a look of granite and was about to say something back when Decker moved forward and said, “We’ll do the honors, Detective. It’s a big place, and you’ll need all the manpower you have to search it.”
Lassiter gazed at Decker for a longer moment than was probably needed before nodding. “Okay. But when I say I don’t want him to move, I mean exactly that.”
“Couldn’t be clearer,” replied Decker.
Lassiter passed out orders to her men; some followed her into the house, while others headed toward the outbuildings and grounds.
Baron sat down on the front porch and stretched. “If any money is found I will make a claim. I can use the cash, as you’re well aware.”
Decker put a foot up on one of the steps and stared down at him.
“You lied to me about Costa. He holds the mortgage on this place and you knew it.”
“Well, technically, the bank does. He just worked there.”
“You know that distinction doesn’t pass the smell test. How many times did you talk to him? Exchange correspondence? You wanted to renegotiate the deal but the bank said no. Costa said no.”
“Banks often say no to people like me. I didn’t take it personally.”
“But you admit that you knew Costa?”
“It was only business.”
“Which means you did lie.”
“People lie all the time.”
“And they get caught in those lies,” rejoined Decker. “Just like now. So, Costa stiffs you on your request. Which gives you a prime motive for murdering him.”
“Only I didn’t. And if I killed everyone who was mean to me, I’d be deemed the world’s most prolific serial killer, because I’d have to murder pretty much everybody in this town.”
“And Lassiter knows about Swanson being up here. And she also knows about your ties to Tanner. And she dug up an old trespassing charge you made out against Toby Babbot. That means she knows that you have ties to all four victims. That puts you in pretty rarefied company, and also vaults you to the top of the suspect list.”
Jamison added, “And Lassiter has theories about how your relationships with all of them could have led to motives for murdering them. It does not look good at all, John.”
Baron took all this in and shrugged. “Well, it is what it is, I guess. It’s not like I can change any of it.”
Decker said, “But why did you lie about Costa? And now Babbot? You didn’t think the police would put it all together?”
“Maybe I didn’t,” conceded Baron. “This town has a police force, but I really thought in name only. They certainly couldn’t solve the murders of my parents, so why should I think they could competently solve anything else?”
“Lassiter has a hard-on for you because of her old man. When she was a little girl he lost his job at the textile mill, lost his house to the bank, and burned down the home of a banker while the man was still in it. He went to prison and never came out alive. So how much do you think she loves the Baron family?”
“Excuse me, but why should she be different from anyone else here?” retorted Baron.
Jamison stepped forward. “John, you are in deep trouble. Lassiter is building a case against you for four murders. We’re just trying to make you understand the gravity of the situation.”
“I’ve been in deep trouble for most of my life.”
“Not this deep,” said Decker. “You could get the death penalty.”
“I’ve actually had that ever since I was born here. It’s just a matter of time.”
“You really need to take this seriously,” snapped Jamison.
Baron stood. “And how exactly should I take it seriously?” he said, his eyes flashing dangerously in a way that neither of them had seen before. “If people have a hard-on for me like your friend said, then what does it matter what I do or what I don’t do? The result is inevitable. So now maybe you see why I drink so much.”
“Did you kill those people?” asked Decker.
Baron held Jamison’s gaze for a beat longer and then looked at Decker. “Well, if I had, it’s doubtful I would confess my guilt to the FBI.” He looked back at Jamison. “Do you think I killed them?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what can be proved.”
“That’s such a pat response. Frankly, I expected better from you, Alex.”
Decker said, “Did you clear Swanson’s things out of the potting shed?”
Baron glanced at him.
Decker said, “We told you we found evidence of Swanson staying in the potting shed. And the drug paraphernalia there. Did you get rid of it?”
“I’m not sure I should answer that.”
“You’re going to have to at some point.”
“I think I’ll defer for now.”
“They’re going to search every inch of this place. Odds are very good they’re going to find something, including anything that you might have rehidden.”
“Do I need a lawyer?”
Lassiter had stepped into the front doorway right at that moment.
“Oh, I think you do, Mr. Baron.”
She held up a gun in a plastic evidence bag.
Chapter 53
BALLISTICS MATCHED THE gun found at Baron’s property to the bullets that killed Costa and Swanson,” said Decker.
He was sitting at the Mitchells’ kitchen table with Jamison.
“Lassiter just called me. She sounded the happiest I’ve ever heard her,” he added. “And they also found all of the drug stuff in the potting shed. They ran prints and matched it to Swanson. Baron obviously just left it there even after we told him about it.”
“So, Lassiter finally nails the Baron family,” said Jamison. “But do you believe he did it?”
“Anyone could have planted that gun there,” noted Decker. “And Lassiter found it pretty fast.”
“She never said where she found it.” noted Jamison.
“She told me later. It was in the gun room, in one of the glass cabinets with some of the other pistols.”
“So was he counting on the fact that hiding a gun among other guns was a smart idea?”
“Well, it didn’t turn out to be.”
“With all the grudges people here have against him, I don’t see how John gets a fair trial.”
“Hopefully he’ll lawyer up and they’ll probably end up changing venues for the trial.”
“What’s his story?” asked Jamison.
“That he knows nothing about the gun and doesn’t know where it came from.”
“Prints?”
“Lassiter said no. But it could have been wiped clean.”
“There are too many moving parts to this whole thing, Decker.”
His phone buzzed before he could answer. The call lasted a few minutes, with Decker mostly listening and asking brief questions. Finally he said, “Thanks,” and hung up.
“What’s going on?” Jamison said.
“That was Agent Kemper. I’d asked her about l
ife insurance policies.”
“Why?”
Decker explained to her what he had discussed earlier with the DEA agent.
“So what did she find out?”
“Over the last three years or so, nearly three hundred people in Baronville have died from drug overdoses. And about half had life insurance policies of at least half a million bucks. Quite a few had policies of over a million dollars.”
“My God, that’s almost one person dying every three days.”
“And that’s also a lot of money cumulatively. Kemper said the insurance companies had investigated a lot of them, but apparently each of the policyholders she could find out about had undergone a medical exam and had no history of drug abuse. So, at least in those cases, the money was paid out to the beneficiaries.”
“Damn, so is that the new American dream? Sign a relative up for life insurance and wait for them to OD to cash in?”
“Let’s hope not.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
Jamison said, “So what will happen with Baron now that he’s been arrested?”
“He’ll have a bond hearing. Because of the seriousness of the charges, the judge will probably remand him into custody until trial. But even if bail is set I doubt he could afford it.”
Someone knocked at the front door. Jamison rose to answer it and returned a few moments later with Cindi Riley.
She had on faded jeans, a leather jacket, and a flannel shirt, coupled with an exhausted expression and reddened eyes.
Jamison said, “You look like you could use some coffee. I just made a fresh pot.”
Riley answered with a nod and then dropped into a seat across from Decker.
“You know what happened?” she said.
“To Baron, yeah.”
“He didn’t do it. He didn’t kill anyone.”
“Was it his gun?” asked Decker.
“I don’t know. You saw the house. There’s crap everywhere. John doesn’t know the half of what’s there.”
“Does he have a lawyer?” asked Jamison, setting a cup of coffee down in front of Riley.
“I got him one. I had to go outside of town to do it. Nobody here apparently wants to defend him. The jerks. I mean what did he ever do to anybody? Somebody killed his parents. Did anybody here do anything about that?”
“Have you talked to him?” asked Decker.
“Yes, at the jail. I’m really worried about him.”
“He should be worried,” said Decker. “They’re charging him with multiple murders.”
“No, I don’t mean just that. I mean that John seems to have finally given up. He’s always been so positive. No matter the crap they throw at him here, he just brushes it off, turns it into a joke, and keeps going.”
Jamison sat down next to her. “But not now?”
“No. I think he believes this is it. That he’s going to die in jail. They set bail because he’s not a flight risk. I tried to pay it after his hearing, but he refused to let me.”
“If he didn’t do it, he won’t be in jail long,” said Decker.
Riley glared at him. “You’re a cop. You should know that innocent people go to jail all the time.”
“Not if we can prove that someone else is responsible,” said Decker. “Then he’s home free.”
“How do we do that?”
“It’s all we’ve been doing since we got here,” said Jamison. “And we’ve made some progress.”
“Does Baron have alibis for any of the murders?” asked Decker.
“I talked to him about that. And not really, no. Like you said, with some of them it’s hard to tell exactly when they died. And John spends most of his time alone at his home, except for a couple hours once a week at the bar.”
Decker nodded. “Okay, then we have to approach it from another way to clear him.”
“So you don’t think he killed anybody then?” said Riley.
Decker ignored this question and said, “You told me before about new businesses popping up around the area.”
“Right.”
“You also told me about some people using payouts from life insurance policies to do renovations and start these businesses.”
“That’s right. But so what?”
“Can you remember any of your friends who overdosed and had a policy?”
Jamison interjected, “But, Decker, you said the insurance companies had investigated some of the deaths in Baronville and didn’t find anything amiss.”
“Answer the question, Cindi,” persisted Decker.
“I don’t know. Wait a minute.” She thought for a few moments. “Keith Drews did. Because his mom opened the new bakery downtown. I remember her telling me it was the only good thing to come out of Keith’s death.”
“Was he a longtime user?”
“No.”
“So what happened? How did he overdose?”
“He got injured, was prescribed Percocet, then Vicodin. Then he got hooked on Oxy. From there it was a downward spiral. He died of a heroin overdose. Whoever he got it from had laced it with fentanyl. Keith probably had no idea what he was taking. It killed him instantly, I heard.”
“How old was he when he died?”
“Younger than me.”
“His mother was the named beneficiary. How much did she get?”
“Enough to open the bakery. She totally gutted the first floor of an old building and bought all-new equipment. So it was a lot of money.”
“Was she an addict?” asked Decker.
“Yeah, she was, actually. For many years before she finally kicked it. But what the hell are you getting at?” added Riley angrily.
“A lot of people have died in this town from drug overdoses. And I’ve found out that a lot of those people had life insurance policies. Now, you have to have an insurable interest in someone to be named a beneficiary. And you can’t get much of a policy benefit without taking a medical exam and swearing on an application that the information you’re providing is accurate. They may even do a criminal background check on you, access your medical records and make you undergo a physical exam.”
“How do they get around HIPAA?” asked Jamison, referring to the law guarding a person’s medical history from unauthorized third parties.
“I had a life insurance policy when I was a cop back in Ohio,” replied Decker. “On the application, you can waive HIPAA protections. In fact, most insurance companies won’t write the policy if you don’t waive that so they can dig into your medical background. And evidence of illicit drug addiction would be a red flag for a life insurance company.”
Riley looked confused. “I don’t understand. You’re saying if you’re an addict you can’t get a life insurance policy.”
“I think that’s right. At least not one they will pay out for a drug overdose death.”
“So—”
“So how did somebody know certain insured people were going to become addicts and then overdose and die?” Decker finished for her.
Chapter 54
IT WAS ONLY four for dinner. It should have been five.
But the fifth was six feet under.
Jamison sat next to Zoe.
Decker sat next to Amber.
They were in the kitchen at the small oval table in the center of the room.
“How was school, Zoe?” asked Jamison.
“Okay,” said Zoe, as she pushed food around on her plate without actually ingesting any of it.
Amber had lost weight, and she had been thin to begin with. Her features were strained, her eyes painfully red and her manner as though she had been drugged.
“Mommy, can I go to my room? My tummy hurts.”
Amber said absently, “Sure, sweetie. I’ll be up to check on you in a bit.”
Zoe got up from the table and hurriedly left. They could hear her shoes clattering up the stairs.
“She’s not eating,” said Amber miserably.
“Neither are you, sis,” said Jamison. “You’ve
got to keep your strength up.”
Amber waved this off. “I’m fine. Just not hungry right now.”
Jamison glanced at Decker and then laid her fork down.
“What do you plan to do?”
Amber looked up from her plate. “What do you mean?”
“I mean will you stay here or move?”
Amber looked at her sister incredulously. “I haven’t gotten that far. For God’s sake, it hasn’t even been a week since Frank died, Alex.”
“I know. But I don’t think there’s anything keeping you here. You could move closer to family. They can help out.”
“I’ve thought about that,” Amber conceded. “And even with the life insurance, I’ll have to go back to work. I’m the breadwinner now.”
“You are going to bring legal action against Maxus, right?” said Jamison.
“Damn straight I am. But to uproot Zoe again, so soon? I’m just worried how that will affect her.”
“A fresh start somewhere else might be best for her and you,” replied Jamison.
“How can I be sure of that?”
“Have you talked to Zoe about this?” interjected Decker.
They both looked at him.
“Decker, she’s only six,” said Jamison.
“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t have an opinion.”
“I’m not sure she can possibly understand the circumstances,” retorted Jamison.
“All I’m saying is that her mother should talk to her about it. If it’s going to affect her, why not?”
Amber and her sister exchanged a glance.
Amber said, “I actually think he might be right.” She rose from the table. “I’ll talk to Zoe and then I’m going to bed. I’m just very tired.”
Jamison rose too and hugged her sister. “I’m here for you, sweetie. Whatever you need, for as long as you need.”
“Alex, you have your own life, and you have a job. You can’t babysit us forever. Not that I’d want you to. I’ll get my life together. I have to, for Zoe.”
She glanced at Decker. “Thanks for the advice, Amos.”
Decker nodded.
She left the room and Jamison sat back down.
Decker rose and poured himself another cup of coffee.
The Fallen Page 28