by Kieran York
“I’m getting back to Dallas on the earliest flight I can get. I’ll drive to Denver, then fly back to Dallas.” He was pleased with himself.
“That’s music to my ears,” Royce encouraged.
“What the hell happened to the side of your face. And you’re walking a little stiff.”
“Just a skirmish with an unsatisfied customer.”
Luther’s smile might as well have said that he was thrilled Royce had been battered. “I’m never coming back to this lousy town.”
Royce and Nick traded a glance. Nick said, “That would please me. How about you, Sheriff?”
She walked to the door. Turning, she gazed back into Luther’s smug face. “It would thrill me.” Other than the possibility that she might see him in court when she testified about the cache of weapons that were being mailed to him, she definitely wouldn’t see him.
She couldn’t wait to leave the room.
“That part is over,” Nick said as they entered the elevator.
Royce’s head felt pain, however it was the cloudy, befuddled portion that the sheriff disliked. She had reached to hold Nick’s arm as the elevator lowered. He had held her by the elbow to steady her on their walk back to the vehicle.
“I’ll recover. So this part might be over, for now. But until the gun laws are enforced, and the gun problem is tamed, the malicious greed that exists will be with us. There will probably always be those who will sell out their county. Take down our country with weapons and drugs. All we can do is shut off one shipment at a time.”
With a wink in her direction, Nick encouraged, “Then let’s do it. In the morning, you stitch up Tony. The Feds will lock Luther. Life will be just a little better.”
“We see so much of the underbelly of life, it’s difficult to always be optimistic.”
“To get really happy, as in exhilarated, why don’t you partner with Sam for a week or two?”
They shared a smile. Then Royce and Nick began their trip back to Timber. Royce was glad that they didn’t pass Rasp Meadow Crossing on the way home. Hertha had once stated that the Rasp was a sacred place among the Ute Nation.
The sheriff had been blessed to have survived this day. Perhaps it was sacred ground.
Chapter 24
Royce and Nick waited in the interview room.
“Luther spent a comfortable night in his room,” Royce commented. “He watched porn all evening, then slept. An early wake-up call, and he packed and began his drive to Denver International.”
“Surveillance will keep on him like glue.” Nick drummed his fingers on the table where they sat. “I wanted to cuff and shackle him so badly.”
“I played that in my mind last night. But he’ll be taken care of.
Royce heard the deputy and Tony approaching. The sheriff and Nick traded a glance. Then in unison, they nodded. Royce was certain they were both thinking the same thing. Cute-Exec was going to the slammer for a very long time.
Tony was escorted in. His ankles were then bound to the floor by chains. He was about to be interrogated by the Sheriff of Timber County. His swagger and his suavity had evaporated. Over the bridge of his nose was a splint and bandages. His eye sockets were bruised. When he was seated across from Royce, a jail deputy locked Tony’s cuffs to the table.
“You broke my fucking nose!” he bellowed.
“You tried to murder me. You hit me so hard that I was concussed. That could have killed me. You attempted to drown me. Choke me, and you took a few shots at me. So I think I still owe you a few fists. And you even shot at my dog. For that you deserved many more knees to your groin.”
“Yeah, well you kneed me so hard, I’ll probably never be able to fuck a chick again.”
“Where you’re going, I seriously doubt that will be your major concern.”
“I’m not saying a word to you.”
“Great, let me do the talking. I really want to make mention of a father being killed by his son.”
“I wanted to be a tougher man than he was. And I am.”
“You even named your company Cute-Exec. Which is execute if you switch the name around. You executed your father. I recall you asked me if your father’s homicide didn’t look as if it was execution style.”
“If I did it, it would have been an execution.”
“I believe that, Tony. You and your father are made of the same cloth. Both haughty with little respect for womanhood. Both greedy. You had a lucrative business, and that wasn’t good enough for either of you. Like father, like son - cowards.”
“I’m not a coward. I’m not like my father.”
“You’re exactly like your father. You’re both cold-blooded killers.”
“Killers?”
“Forty years ago your father executed an unarmed young woman. She wanted to run out on her husband, and she made the mistake of wanting your father to run out on his wife. As he promised her he would do. He killed her. He left behind a confession to murdering her. Her name was Lila Franz Brull. She’s been known as Jane Doe for years. Now she has her rightful name.” Royce sat back, she scrutinized his face. “You told someone that if a woman bugged you, your father would either buy them off of bump them off.” Royce quoted what Nita had told Marion. “Your father did bump off a woman that bugged him. Gutless wonders, both you and your father.”
“I never killed a woman.”
“But you certainly tried.”
“I don’t consider you a real woman,” he jeered. “You’re a fuckin’ dyke.”
Nick shuffled papers, then handed them to Royce. He said with controlled, slow-burn anger, “And Tony, you are a bigot, a coward, a lowlife, and one sorry suck.” His usually docile eyes were fierce, “And you are going to spend the rest of your life in prison.”
Royce began to read the paper. The words swam, but she was focusing as she went. “Tony Wagner, we’ve placed you under arrest for the murder of your father, Calvin Wagner. Other charges are attempted murder of a county sheriff and deputy, assault, resisting, illegal gun sales, falsifying reports, transporting illegal materials and a few more charges to come.”
“What deputy?”
“You shot at my dog, Chance. Chance is an official deputy. Don’t worry, the jury will appreciate that charge. Most folks are dog lovers.”
“I’ll fight every single charge. You have no evidence.”
“To the gunrunning charge. It’s all in your shed, slash, office. That charge will stick. Maybe the Feds will throw in selling arms to subversive groups, enemies of our country. Treason. As far as your father’s murder. We’ve got footage of you leaving the ranch. You went to the gun shop. You knew how to erase the security tape. Since it hadn’t been replayed, the tape’s images can actually be lifted. You entered your father’s gun shop.”
“Knock yourself out trying to prove I shot him.”
“The tape may not show it all. Not much of a stretch of figure the sequence. You saw the gun there on your father’s desk, where it was after Otis left. Your father told you to take the gun back to the safe, or maybe asked you to work on it. He sat looking down at his own work on the desk. You picked up the gun, walked around your father – behind him. And you fired the gun. He wouldn’t have allowed Otis to take the gun behind him where he sat. There was no struggle. But his son, he would trust. You walked a few feet, turned, and shot him in the head. His head and shoulders fell on the desk. You neared him and gave him the execution style bullet to the back of his head. Capital murder.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“Sure you did. And you think you’re not a coward. Where’s the valor in shooting an unarmed man who trusts you – shooting him in the back of the head? You and your father – both corrupt murderers. And of course, it will be proven in court. A death penalty offense.”
He struggled to lift his hand. His face flooded with red. “They won’t convict me.”
“You bet they will. But I’d like to offer you a deal. I’ve talked it over with the D.A. and he’s willing to put
a trade on the table. We can take the death sentence away, and offer life without parole. If you’re willing to cooperate and testify against Luther Sumner, we can make that deal. Otherwise, you’re going to be rolling dice.”
“You want me to rat out Luther?”
“Tony, I’m not here to coheres a confession. I’m giving you a chance to do yourself some good.”
“Luther will give me the death sentence if I turn him.”
“Hey, the Feds will have him in custody the minute he steps off that airplane. He’s going down. You might want to turn on Luther before he rolls on you. You could be the brains behind the entire operation – including his bogus auto body parts business.”
“I’d want to be vindicated if I provide testimony.”
Royce chuckled. “My Gran has a saying. That would make a cat laugh. You want full immunity from prosecution to tell the Feds what they already know? The D.A. was generous in offering life in prison – no parole.”
Tony was well-aware that Luther could blame him. And would blame him. “Look, I’ll take your deal. I haven’t got anything to lose.”
“So make your testimony exactly as events happened. Remember, you do have something to lose. You won’t spend the remainder of your life on death row. Waiting your turn.”
“I’ll talk.”
“Wise decision. Now the district attorney will be in for a chat, and have some papers for you to sign. I warn you, don’t be an obstructionist with him. He’s got less of a sense of humor than I do.”
When it came to killers in her country, Royce had absolutely no sense of humor.
She went back to her office, where the deputies gave a cheer. One of them handed her a weathered manila file. On its yellowed tab was written Jane Doe. Royce took it to her desk. She marked through the name. She wrote Lila Franz Brull. She then filed it. It was no longer an active case. A very sad, but inactive solved case.
More than anything in the world, Royce wanted to give her father a hug. Maybe this was as near as she could come to doing just that.
***
Rushing down the walkway toward her mother’s bakery, Royce saw Plato. “Hey, partner,” she called to him. Chance followed proudly behind her.
“By gosh, them two were in cahoots. Tony and Luther.”
“They were. And the motive for Cal’s dying was revealed in Tony’s confession. According to the confession Tony just made, he and Cal had been a partner with Luther, on a limited scale. For a few years. Going big was too risky for Cal. Tony wanted to be a major kingpin in smuggling guns. It caused friction between father and son. After he’d heard Otis and Cal fighting, Tony saw a great opportunity to dispose of Calvin. And Otis would be the suspect. He shot his father, wiped the prints clean, erased the security tapes, and snuck out the front door. He had the key, and he knew Otis would exit the back way, after the loud skirmish. Otis was the likely fall guy.”
“It was all over assault guns?”
“Yes. Guns, which were dispensed out to criminals and terrorists. Top dollar walked away with them.”
“I never abided by hunters using ‘em. Huntin’ with assault weapons is just wrong.”
Royce nodded in agreement. “By the way, I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate your help. Thanks for your information along the way to solving this case, Plato. I guess I don’t say that often enough.”
Chuckling, he gasped between laughs. “No need to thank me, Sheriff. Just keep the smokes money a comin’.”
Reaching in her pocket, she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. As she walked away, Royce felt pain in her back. She’d been slammed down hard on the stream bed. The side of her face was decorated with bruises and cuts. Her head was still slightly cloudy. She was alive. She was thankful.
Attempting to sleep the night before had left her fatigued. Not only was she concerned if she could get a confession from Tony, the concussion made her thoughts chaotic. The pressure was gone. Her brain didn’t feel as though it was in a tailspin, but morning left her with a remnant of feeling dazed.
***
Gran had driven in to Timber. She knew the town would be filled with talk the morning after the big capture, and a cold case had been solved. She wanted to be a part of her granddaughter’s celebration. Gran’s son, Sheriff Grady Madison, had wanted a cold case solved. Royce and the county enforcers, along with the assistance of the state forensic lab, had solved that case.
Gran felt an enormous pride when she entered Molly’s Pantry.
Royce swooped her into her arms. “Gran, before you ask, I’m fine.”
“You look a tad beat up. And they said you had a concussion!”
“I can’t drive for a few days, but Sam offered to chauffeur me around. That will bring the day’s joy up a notch.”
“I like that fella,” Gran exclaimed.
“I bet even the criminals like that fella,” Molly added. “I wonder if he’s ever even arrested anyone.”
Royce shrugged. “Maybe he keeps his ‘tough’ side hidden.”
Molly began pouring cups of coffee. “Here comes Gwen and Nadine.”
After greeting the women, Royce stretched, allowing a low moan. “I knew that Tony had taken self-defense courses. But I didn’t know he aced his body-slamming course,” she teased.
Gwen words mocked with a slight sting. “Tony isn’t even thirty. You, Royce, are in your early forties. He’s twice your size. Hell’s bells, you got off easy.”
Royce grimaced. Even that hurt. “Personally, I think he got off easy. If I wouldn’t have been swarmed by the killer drone, I wouldn’t have been overpowered in the first place. I caught the butt of a rifle to the side of my head. If I wouldn’t have been body slammed, I could have put a little more punch into the breaking of his nose. Also, if I hadn’t been tossed around in the water on the stream’s bed as I was being choked and drowned, the term busted balls would have come into play.”
The women howled. Nadine said, “Terry mentioned that even when he was being cuffed, he couldn’t stand up straight. You must have given him a danged harsh pounding with your knee.”
Royce chuckled. “I didn’t really care if I dislocated my knee. I was fighting for breath. And yes, I didn’t mind that I was getting back at him on the behalf of the young women in this county.”
“I notice you didn’t say getting back for the victim.”
Royce became somber. “Cal had murdered an innocent woman. Maybe Tony was an executioner.”
Gwen commented, “One thing I do know. You were looking down the barrel of an assault rifle.” Her eyebrows shot up, she folded her arms. “However, Chance was trying to eat that rifle. As well as to annihilate the shooter.”
Royce reached down to tickle Chance’s ears. “I wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t been there to save me. Although I fought dirty, which is what I always recommend to women protecting themselves, I was losing. Chance was fearless.”
The women raised their mugs of coffee. “To Chance.”
Chance sat. Royce wondered if that wasn’t Chance’s way of saying, “Of course I saved the sheriff. That was the expectation, wasn’t it?”
Royce slapped the side of her leg. Chance followed her out onto the street.
***
Although everyone wanted Royce to rest, they knew the sheriff needed some exercise. Walking on their morning rounds, the sheriff and Chance stopped when they neared the High Country Animal Hospital. Royce leaned back against the side of the building. She felt wobbly. The sun seemed to be whirling. Since her pounding had only happened yesterday, she wasn’t concerned. The doctor had told her the dizziness would go away in a few days. She could expect a few of the symptoms.
Hearing the voice, yet unable to focus in, Royce’s head went back against the building’s siding. “Hertha?”
“Royce, are you okay?” Hertha was allowing Royce’s weight to lean against her. “Let’s get you in out of the sun.”
“I’m fine,” Royce said as her legs weakened slightly.
Herth
a helped to ease Royce into a chair. “I’ll get my herbal ointment for your face.” She quickly retrieved a glass of water for Royce, and a small tub with salve. Hertha tenderly rubbed the ointment onto Royce’s scuffed face.
Royce sipped. “Feels better already.”
Hertha looked away. Tears pooled in her eyes. They became huge droplets. “Gwen told me that you’d been taken to the hospital yesterday afternoon. When she said that you were nearly killed, I realized the feelings I’ve been trying to cover up. My love for you has never gone away. Royce, I’m still in love with you. I’ve never stopped being in love with you. I know our lives are going in different directions. But I need for you to know what I’m thinking.”
Royce gently lifted Hertha’s chin so that they were looking in one another’s eyes. Royce wanted to say the words back to the veterinarian.
When the sheriff’s lips quivered, Hertha uttered, “I know that things worth having always take time. I’m willing to wait for you. Would you like to come for dinner tonight? I could chop everything up to make it easier to eat with an injured jaw.”
“I’d like to have dinner with you and the kids. I’d better get back to the courthouse. We’re waiting on a phone call.”
The burst of energy that happens when children appear, emerged from the doorway. Before Royce could stand, the two youngsters were hugging the sheriff. “Wait, Royce,” Shavano yelled. “I made something for you.”
Royce and Hertha continued gazing at one another. Hertha explained, “Vannie made you a book. A get-well book.”
Antero stood solemnly, then his hand reached to begin patting Royce’s shoulder. Vannie appeared, handing the bouquet of pages to Royce. “For you,” she said.
Royce saw drawings of herself and Chance. She saw a crayon picture depicting Royce climbing up to get Antero down from a cliff. Chance had led Royce to the place where Antero had hidden. Another picture showed Chance finding the children. And of Royce being saved by Chance. Royce read silently.