Disillusioned, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 2

by William Manchee

  Chapter 13

  When Stan awoke, he found himself lying in the back of a panel truck with his hands and legs tied. He felt pressure against his back and soon realized Melissa was lying next to him. He struggled a moment, trying to get loose, but the knots wouldn’t budge. A sharp pain shot though his back from the effort. He became still hoping the pain would stop.

  “Melissa,” Stan whispered. “Are you awake?”

  “Yes,” Melissa replied softly.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live. How about you?”

  “Other than a horrible pain in my back, I guess I’m okay. Where are they taking us?”

  “I don’t know. I just woke up a minute ago.”

  “Who are these people?”

  “Some of Morales’ men, I think. I got a glimpse of one of them before he drugged me.”

  A sick feeling came over Stan. He knew where they were going—a secluded spot in the country to kill them. He didn’t say anything, not wanting to upset Melissa. He felt certain the FBI was following them, probably hoping they’d lead them to a hideout or to people higher up in the organization.

  “How did you get mixed up with these people?” Stan asked.

  Melissa sighed. “We got into financial trouble, and were on the verge of bankruptcy. Brad was desperately looking for a way out when he remembered an old college friend that he’d heard was doing quite well. He thought maybe he could get a loan from him. He called him and told him his predicament, and a few weeks, later Carlos Morales contacted us. He said Tony Rubio had sent him to deliver a very lucrative business proposition. Brad listened to the proposal and jumped at it since there was enough cash up front to get us out of the hole we were in.”

  “So, he knew he was dealing with Rubio?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Did he know Rubio was connected to a Mexican drug cartel?”

  “No. He just thought Rubio was a shrewd businessman. The proposal seemed legitimate. Nobody ever mentioned breaking the law. It was only later, after it was too late, that Brad realized he was laundering money for Rubio.”

  “How about Rob? Did he know what he was getting into?”

  “No. Brad told him Silver Springs was a good deal, that he could use the profit in his campaign and he should get into it. You know Rob. He was very trusting and never questioned the propriety of the venture, particularly since he’d known Brad for so long.”

  “Why was Rob killed?”

  “He was the only one who knew about Brad’s college connection to Rubio. If that connection were to come out, it would be just what the feds needed to get a conviction of Brad and Morales.”

  “So Morales ordered the hit?”

  “He must have, because Brad wouldn’t do something like that. He’s a businessman, not a murderer.”

  “The FBI should be following us. I told them about our meeting.”

  “You did?” Melissa gasped.

   “Yes. I didn’t want the feds to get the wrong idea about our get together,” he lied.

  “Well, that may have saved our lives.”

  “Hopefully.”

  The truck stopped abruptly, and the front doors opened and shut. A moment later, the back latch rattled, and the back doors flung open. One of the men grabbed Stan’s legs and dragged him out of the van until he was sitting on the back bumper. He was a Hispanic male, medium height, with dark hair and a mustache. Another man, a few inches shorter and without a mustache, did the same thing to Melissa. They yanked them up and started pulling them along a path that led into the woods.

  Stan looked back, searching for some sign of the FBI, but he saw nothing. His heart began to quicken as he realized the FBI may not have followed them after all. His mind raced, wondering what could have gone wrong. Had their kidnappers somehow eluded the FBI stake out? He imagined them carrying Melissa and he out the back door and through a neighbor’s yard to a truck parked a block or two away. He regretted getting involved in Rob’s investigation. Now he was going to die, and his children would grow up without a father.

  “Where are you taking us?” Stan demanded.

  The shorter man following behind Stan gave him a hard shove, knocking him to the ground. Stan rolled over and glared up at the man. The man kicked him hard in the ribs, and Stan doubled over.

  “Get up and get moving—NOW!” the man ordered.

  Stan stumbled to his feet and started walking. After they’d walked about ten minutes, they came to a clearing where they left Stan and Melissa standing helplessly. Stan’s heart nearly stopped as he realized the men were about to shoot them. They raised their guns and were about to pull the triggers when Stan heard a helicopter swooping down on them. A shot was fired, and the shorter man went down. Stan ran toward Melissa and knocked her to the ground. The taller man returned the fire and took cover. The short man recovered and began firing as well.

  A moment later, the sound of heavy footsteps reverberated from the woods behind them. Suddenly, an FBI SWAT team emerged from the woods and surrounded the men. They dropped their weapons and stuck their hands in the air.

  Stan breathed a sign of relief as someone jerked him up and started untying his hands. Soon, he and Melissa were being escorted to a waiting car. Before they got to it, Special Agent Rutledge intercepted them.

  “You two alright?” Agent Rutledge asked.

  “I think so,” Stan said. “Just a few bruises and emotional scars.”

  Agent Rutledge laughed. She looked at one of the SWAT team members and said, “Take Mrs. Thornton to the your vehicle. We need to question them separately.”

  The man nodded and led Melissa away.

  “I bet you weren’t expecting a ride in the country,” Agent Rutledge said.

  “No. That was a surprise,” Stan replied.

  “We found your briefcase. Quite an interesting conversation.”

  “Oh, you haven’t heard the half of it. I got a complete confession on the way here. I didn’t tell Melissa you were following us until the very end.”

  “That was pretty clever.”

  “Rob didn’t kill anybody. Melissa said it was Morales’ men.”

  “Good. Hopefully she won’t have a memory lapse when we get her back to the office.”

  “Well, you’ve got my testimony. Isn’t that good enough?”

  “Not necessarily. You’ve made it clear you think Rob is innocent, so I’m not sure you’d be a credible witness without corroboration.”

  Stan sighed. “Well, she’ll probably back me up.”

  “Don’t count on it.”

  Stan looked at his watch and suddenly remembered Rebekah and the kids.

  “Has somebody told Rebekah I’m safe?” Stan asked urgently.

  Agent Rutledge nodded. “Yes. I sent an agent over there. She’s been advised that you’re safe and not to expect you home anytime soon.”

  “Oh, thank God. She’s probably a nervous wreck.”

  “I’m going to need your statement, and if you like, you can watch the interrogation of Mrs. Thornton and your abductors.”

  “Yes. Definitely. That ought to be interesting.”

  “I hope so. You want to stop by the emergency room on the way home to get checked out?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  “Okay, I’m going to let you ride with Mrs. Thornton. See if you can get any more information out of her. She seems to like you.”

  “She’s a good woman. She feels guilty about Rob and his family.”

  Agent Rutledge nodded. “I’ll see you later.”

  Stan was escorted to an FBI vehicle and put in the back seat next to Melissa. She smiled at him when he sat down.

  “You alright?” Stan asked.

  Melissa nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “So, where did your husband go? Did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t say. He just told me he’d back in a few days and while he was gone, I was to talk to you and get you off his back.”

  “Really? Do you think
he just wanted to get us together so Morales’ thugs could get rid of both of us all at once—kill two birds with one stone?”

  Melissa burst into tears. Stan put his arm around her. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be cruel, but that’s what it kind of looks like.”

  “I know,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m sure he had no part in it. He’s not a bad man.”

  “I’m sure he’s not,” Stan said, squeezing her tightly.

  Stan couldn’t think of much else to ask her, so he just held her while they were taken to FBI headquarters. It was nearly midnight when they pulled into the parking garage adjacent to their offices. Melissa was escorted upstairs for processing by a female agent, and Stan was taken to Agent Rutledge’s office to wait. While he was waiting, he used Rutledge’s phone to call Rebekah.

  “Oh, Stan, I was so worried.”

  “I’m okay. I’m sorry you had to go through all of this.”

  “It’s not your fault. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

  “It’s a good thing I called the FBI. If they hadn’t come—“

  ”I’d have been a widow,” Rebekah interrupted.

  “Mrs. Thornton told me Morales was responsible for killing Rob and the family.”

  “Oh, my God! That’s good news. Now you’re done with all this, right?”

  “Maybe. I hope so. If she doesn’t change her story.”

  “Oh, I hope so. I am really getting sick of this.”

  “I know. It will be over soon, hopefully.”

  “It better be.”

  “Well, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Thank you for calling. I love you.”

  “Me too. Bye.”

  Stan went back to his chair and thought about his family and how close he’d come to losing them. He wondered if he’d done the right thing in trying to clear Rob’s name. A half hour later, a receptionist came in and told Stan that Agent Rutledge had been delayed. She showed him to the break room, where he bought a Coke and a sandwich and continued to wait. Ten minutes later, Agent Rutledge finally showed up.

  “Okay. I’ve got some good news and some bad news,” agent Rutledge said.

  “What’s the bad news?” Stan asked warily.

  “Mrs. Thornton has a fancy lawyer already, and he’s advised her to keep her mouth shut.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Stan said dejectedly.

  “No, I’m afraid not. The good news is one of your abductors, Pablo Gomez, wants to cut a deal.”

  “Really? What kind of deal?”

  “He’ll tell us everything he knows and testify against Morales if we’ll drop all charges against him.”

  “But he may be a murderer!” Stan protested.

  “I know that, but don’t you think it’s better to bring down Morales and maybe even the Burilo cartel?”

  “I know, but I hate to let the sleaze ball get away with murder.”

  “Well, I don’t know if I can sell it to the US Attorney anyway. I just wanted to let you know we may have caught a break in the case on account of your stubborn persistence.”

  Stan laughed. “If that’s a compliment, thanks.”

  “Come on. We’re about to interrogate the less cooperative of our two suspects.”

  Stan followed Agent Rutledge to the viewing area adjacent to the interrogation room. There was a one-way window and hidden speakers so observers could watch and listen. Stan stood in front of the window and watched Special Agent Adams as he interrogated the suspect, Manuel Rubicardo.

  “Mr. Rubicardo, my name is Special Agent Adams of the FBI. Before we start, I want to advise you that you have the right to remain silent and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to obtain an attorney of your own choosing. Should you be unable to afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. If you are an illegal alien, you have the right to consult with someone at your consulate before you talk to us should you so desire. If you decide to talk to us, you can terminate the interview at any time and request legal counsel.”

  A translator repeated the Miranda Rights in Spanish. When he was done, Agent Adams continued, “Do you understand these rights?” he asked.

  “I guess so,” he said. “You’ll get me an attorney if I can’t afford one.”

  “Right. Are you willing to talk to us then without counsel?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Should I?” Rubicardo asked.

  “If you cooperate, we’ll put a good word in for you with the judge at the time of sentencing,” Agent Adams promised. “He might be more lenient with you if you cooperate.”

  “What if I refuse to talk?”

  “Then the judge will probably give you the maximum sentence.”

  “I would like to talk, but Carlos will kill me if I do.”

  “Carlos Morales?”

  “Si.”

  “Did he tell you he’d kill you if you spoke to the police?”

  “Many times.”

  “Well, we can protect you from him,” Adams said without conviction.

  “Maybe, maybe not.”

  “We can…don’t worry. Did Carlos Morales tell you to kidnap Stan Turner and Melissa Thornton?”

  “I didn’t talk to him.”

  “Who did you talk to about the kidnapping.”

  “I don’t want to get him in trouble.”

  “But somebody told you to kidnap them?”

  “Si.”

  “You don’t personally have anything against Stan Turner or Mrs. Thornton, do you?”

  “No, sir. I don’t know them.”

  “Okay, so this person—we’ll call him ‘Mr. X---told you to kidnap Mr. Turner and Mrs. Thornton?”

  “Right.”

  “What exactly were you supposed to do?”

  “He said for us to go to the house and wait in the alley. When they came home, we were s’posed to grab them and take them to the dump.”

  “The dump?”

  “Right, the dump—a place to bury people you don’t want found.”

  A cold chill washed over Stan. He thought how close he’d come to dying at the dump.

  “Have you taken people there to be killed and buried before?”

  “No. Not me, but others have.”

  “These others have been killed there?”

  “That’s what I’m told.”

  “Did Tony Rubio order you to kidnap Stan Turner and Melissa Thornton?”

  “No. I haven’t seen him for months.”

  “So, you won’t tell us who Mr. X is?”

  “I’m not stupid. I tell you, I’m a dead man.”

  “Have you ever killed for Mr. X before? I know this time you were stopped before you killed anybody, but on previous jobs for Mr. X, has anyone been killed?”

  “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “But you were prepared to kill Mr. Turner and Melissa Thornton, weren’t you?”

  “If I didn’t, Rubio would send someone to kill me.”

  “Oh, so you’re saying you acted under duress?”

  “I not sure what you call it, but I was ordered to kill them, and if I didn’t, they’d kill me.”

  “Ah. So, Mr. X threatened harm to you if you didn’t do as you were told?”

  “It was understood. They’d kill me, then my family in Mexico.”

  “How long have you been working for Mr. X?”

  “Many years.”

  “Have you ever been to Rob Shepard’s house?”

  “Who is he?”

  “Rob Shepard. Do you remember going to his house, killing him, his wife, three children, and the babysitter?”

  “No, not me. I don’t know Shepard. I didn’t kill him or his family. ”

  “Five people were brutally murdered, and I think you and your amigo were responsible. I bet you were going to take them all to the dump but something went wrong, so you staged the murder-suicide, isn’t that right?”

  He shoo
k his head vigorously. “No! That’s all I have to say. I want a lawyer.”

  “A lawyer? You want a lawyer now?”

  “Yes! You caught me with Mr. Turner and Mrs. Thornton. How can I deny we kidnapped them? But now you accuse me of murder. I want a lawyer. I’m done talking.”

  “You were going to murder Mr. Turner and Mrs. Thornton. It’s not much of a stretch to pin the Shepard murders on you.”

  Rubicardo just shook his head and turned away.

  Agent Adams sighed and then reluctantly got up. “Alright, but I think you’re making a mistake. The judge is going to throw the book at you since you’re not cooperating.

  “I cooperated, but you weren’t satisfied with the truth. I want the lawyer.”

  Agent Adams left the interrogation room and closed the door behind him. “He’s not going to tell us anything we don’t already know. We’re wasting our time,” he spat.

  “He’s scared to death of Mr. X, whoever he is,” Agent Rutledge said.

  “Do you think they’ll really kill his family if he talks?”

  “Yes, they will. Once you go to work for a cartel, you belong to them, and if you don’t follow orders, they’ll kill you and your family in the blink of an eye.”

  “Do you think there are bodies buried up at this so-called dump?” Stan asked.

  “Maybe. I guess we better send a canine team up there to check it out.”

  Stan yawned. “I’m exhausted. Are we done here tonight?”

  “Yes,” Agent Rutledge replied. “Go on home. I’ll call you tomorrow when I find out what the US Attorney says about the immunity request.”

  “Okay. Thanks for everything,” Stan said and headed to the elevator.

  On the way home, his mind raced over everything that had happened. He wondered if the US Attorney would approve the immunity deal and what they’d find out if the suspect talked. He prayed he’d confess to the Shepard murders so he could wash his hands of the whole thing, but deep down, he didn’t think he’d be that lucky.