Behind the Badge

by David R Lewis

  “Do I get the dope back?”

  “No.”

  “What? I told you, those guys’ll fuck me up bad! ‘Specially Shorty.”

  “What’s the payoff?”

  “Fif, ah…seventeen large.”

  Crockett smiled and opened a desk drawer. “Fifteen grand it is,” he said, counting out hundreds, “and an extra thousand for you.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure,” Crocket replied, handing her the cash. “It’s simple. You take care of me and I’ll take care of you. Go away.”

  Stacy stopped in the doorway and looked at him. “You’re really gonna be fair with me, aren’tcha?” she said.

  “Absolutely,” Crockett replied, “unless you get stupid. Just don’t get stupid.”

  “I’d like to get away from here, Crockett,” Stacy said.

  “You play straight with me, when this is all over I’ll help you make that happen. We gotta deal?”

  Stacy smiled. “Yeah,” she said. “We do.”

  *****

  Crockett watched her exit the building, get in the mustang, and motor away. He dug out his cell phone and punched a button.

  “Got her?” he asked.

  “Yep,” Satin replied. “I’ll follow her ‘til she gets someplace.”

  “Have I ever told you how much secret agents turn me on?” Crockett asked.

  Satin snorted. “That explains why you whisper Sean Connery’s name in your sleep,” she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Crockett got back to the cabin a little after midnight. Satin was making coffee. He sat on a stool and leaned his elbows on the counter.

  “You look beat,” she said.

  “Something about intimidating women that wears me out.”

  “Hmmm. Are you speaking of women that intimidate you, or women that you intimidate?”

  “Yes. You’re home earlier than I expected.”

  “Followed your intimidated woman directly to Stitch’s place. Drove on by and came here.”

  “She notice you?”

  “I doubt it. Following a car with all that white light shining out the back is easy. I stayed way behind her.”

  “Excellent work. I could use another deputy.”

  “You ain’t gonna find one in this kitchen, bub. My heart was pounding the whole time.”

  “I like it when your heart pounds.”

  “Cheap innuendo, Crockett. Want some coffee?”

  “Sure. On the deck.”

  *****

  They were most of the way through their coffee when a bobbing light appeared on the lake, and Stitch, wearing a headlamp, came paddling into the cove. He beached the canoe by the dock and walked up to the house, Dundee gamboling around him.

  “Far out,” he said. “Strokin’ around out there in the, like, dark is way cool. Kinda a rush, ya know?”

  “Water sprites materializing out of the night,” Satin said.

  “Fuckin’ A, man. You put catfish in this pond, Crockett?”

  “No.”

  “Bummer, dude. Somethin’ about pullin’ a ten pound cat offa a trotline outa dark water at midnight that’s, like, primeval an’ shit. Ya know?”

  Crockett smiled. “Whatever you say, sprite. Want coffee?”

  “Just had a cream soda, man. I’m good.”

  “Get your pills?”

  “No. Funny thing, dude. The order got fucked up an’ she couldn’t deliver. She’ll bring ‘em by tomorrow night after work.”

  “I’ll be damned.”

  “Yeah. Delivered the bad news an’ did the boogie. Looks like I get to rest up an’ shit. How ‘bout you, dude? You score?”

  “Oh, yeah. Got some good info from her. I think she may actually keep up her end of the deal. If not, at least I know who her supplier is. The Cantral brothers. All three of them are in it.”

  “No shit?”

  “None. I got it all on audio.”

  “I got her on the nanny lamp tonight, too. She was a little freaked out, man. Kinda nervous.”

  “She coulda given you up, Stitch, but she didn’t.”

  “Fuck no. She still wants to make the sale, man. I’m a customer, dude. She may fuck me, but she don’t wanna, like, screw me too, ya know?”

  Dundee stood up and ‘boofed’ into the dark. Shelly came walking around the side of the house.

  “Air-cav, motherfucker,” Stitch said.

  “Semper-fi, bitch,” Shelly replied.

  Stitch laughed. “Jarhead in the house!”

  Shelly giggled and flopped into a chair. Modesty was not much of an issue, considering her waitress skirt and red dancing panties.

  “Them come in camo, Marine?” Stitch asked.

  “Not with ruffles, fly-boy,” Shelly said.

  Stitch gave her a high-five, and headed into the house.

  Shelly grinned at Satin and Crockett. “He’s a hoot. Those helo drivers are a whole ‘nother animal.”

  “He’s the best there is,” Satin said.

  “I can tell,” Shelly replied.

  “He’s also older than your father,” Satin went on.

  “I can tell that, too,” Shelly said.

  “Jesus,” Satin continued. “Who the hell do I think I am? Sorry Shelly. Don’t pay any attention to me. ”

  “I believe the term is ‘belay my last,’” Crockett said.

  “Belay whose last?” Stitch asked, walking back out onto the deck and handing Shelly a cup of coffee.

  “Satin’s last,” Shelly said, accepting the cup. “She’s concerned that the Marines and the Air-cav might go on maneuvers.”

  Satin squirmed and Crockett chuckled.

  “No shit?” Stitch said. “Wow. How do you feel about that?”

  Shelly looked at him for a moment. “War is hell,” she said. “It’s not outside the realm of possibility, if the fly guy wasn’t already on a mission.”

  “Gotta do whatever mission you’re assigned. R and R is by choice, man. You life-takers and heart-breakers know that shit.”

  Shelly grinned at him.

  Stitch returned her grin.

  “What just happened?” Satin asked.

  “Relax, mom,” Crockett said. “Everything is just fine.”

  Stitch stood up. “Breakfast is on me in the morning, man,” he said. “It’ll give me a chance to use all my plates. B and G with pork chops and hash browns. Ten o’clock. Be there or be square.”

  Shelly smiled as she watched him walk away into the dark.

  *****

  Crockett and Satin were drinking coffee in the kitchen about nine-thirty the next morning. Satin was unusually quiet.

  “What’s going on,” Crockett asked.

  “What?”

  “You heard me. You are cogitating on something.”

  “Nothing.”

  “Bullshit. Stitch and Shelly got you worried?”

  “Not worried exactly. Concerned.”

  “About what, the difference in their ages?”

  “Quit.”

  “No. Christ, Satin, Danni is younger than she is, and she and Stitch were sleeping together. And Danni, may I remind you, is your daughter.”

  “I know. What is it with older men and younger women?”

  “I’m an older man.”

  “Well, yeah, but we’re both adults.”

  “You’re not talking about older men anyway, you’re talking about Stitch. Hell, Satin. You told me once that if there wasn’t me, there’d probably be him.”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Everybody that gets to know the hippie, loves the hippie. He’s open, honest, and safe. That transcends age.”

  “I’m being stupid, huh?”

  “No. You’re being a mom, and a girl, and Shelly’s friend. That’s a triple threat.”

  “So I should just butt out.”

  “Outward buttage would be good. Nobody’s gonna get hurt here. If age were measured by experience, Shelly would be forty-five. She’s an ex-combat Marine, a State Trooper,
and a undercover operative. She only looks like she’s a junior in high school.”

  Satin stared at the counter top for a moment, then looked at Crockett.

  “Ooo-rah,” she said.

  Crockett smiled. “Air-cav, motherfucker,” he replied.

  *****

  Shelly and Dundee came in about five minutes later. All of them, including the dog, boarded the little pontoon boat and made it to Stitch’s place right on time. Shelly loved the trip and thought the housing arrangement on the lake was perfect. Stitch opened the door before anybody could knock.

  “Far out,” he said. “I just took the biscuits out of the oven, dudes. Grab a plate and serve yourself. Everything’s ready, man.”

  Breakfast was great, almost. Crockett was on his last biscuit when his cell phone went off.

  “Crockett.”

  “Smoot.”

  “Hey Dale, what’s up?”

  “I got a cocky little sonofabitch in a State Police uniform in the waiting area down here that says his name is Mason Riley and he’s a Colonel in the Highway Patrol and director of the D.D.C.C.”

  “Oh, shit,” Crockett grumbled. “What’s he want?”

  “You. Says you are interfering with Drug and Crime’s business.”

  “Well, he’s right.”

  “I was afraid of that.”

  “Don’t resign yet,” Crockett said. “I’ll smooth it over.”

  “Consider yourself ordered to report, ASAP.”

  “Right. On the way.” Crockett disconnected. Satin was looking at him.

  “Is Dale going to resign?” she asked.

  “No. Just a little problem with the director of the D.D.C.C.”

  “Riley?” Shelly said.

  “Yeah. He’s at the station. Says I’m interfering with his division.”

  “That little weasel,” Shelly went on. “If he was over in Kahndahar or Salerno, somebody would frag his ass.”

  “He wants a piece of mine. I gotta go. If it’s okay with you, Stitch, I’ll leave the ladies here and you can take them home.”

  “Marooned with two chicks? Thanks, dude.”

  *****

  Crockett took the time to put on his gear and almost uniform, then headed to Hartrick. As he left the driveway he phoned Cletus.

  “Crockett! How are ya?”

  “Clete, I’m in a bind. You remember that shithead over at the D.D.C.C. you got so mad at?”

  “Oh yeah. Riley?”

  “That’s him. “I’m on the way into town to meet him at the cop shop. It seems he’s all pissed off because I’m interfering with his division.”

  “Are ya?”

  “Hell, yes! Pelmore and I got together, and he assigned one of their spooks that was already in place at the club to me. Evidently Riley found out about it. He’s not the type of spit and polish pussy to take that kinda thing lying down.”

  “He’s waitin’ to square your ass away, huh?”

  “Evidently.”

  “Ivy and Goody are playing cribbage in the atrium. I’ll put a bug in her ear. Gimme the number of the cop shop and go stall the asshole if ya have to. Somebody’ll call.”

  “Thanks, Clete,” Crockett said, after reciting the numbers.

  “No shit on my boots. Ivy’ll love it. How’s things goin?”

  “I think I’m gonna be able to wrap this up pretty soon. I could actually use Riley’s cooperation. I just hope I didn’t get Pelmore’s ass in a sling. He’s a good man.”

  “Lemme git offa here an’ git busy. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Okay. See ya.”

  *****

  Crockett took an extra thirty minutes on his drive to town. When he arrived at the station, a big black Crown Vic with a whip antenna was parked out front. He resisted the urge to key it as he walked inside. Smoot, Riley, and his driver were standing in the waiting area.

  “It’s you!” the little man nearly shouted. “I might have known.”

  “You might, at the very least, have suspected,” Crockett said. “Hello, Colonel. How are ya?”

  “Exactly who do you think you are?” Riley asked, sticking out his chin and advancing on Crockett. “You are not a member of the highway patrol, much less my division.”

  “Your division?”

  “Yes, my division!”

  “Ah. Do you have a deed or a bill of sale?”

  “What?”

  “Colonel, when I’m called in here, I’m on the clock. I’m getting paid. If you wanna stand there and yell at me, that’s fine. As long as you don’t piss me off, I can take a lotta your shit if I’m making money to do it.”

  The driver turned toward the wall to hide his smile. Smoot was made of sterner stuff.

  “You think this is some kind of joke?” Riley asked.

  “No, I don’t, Colonel. This is very serious stuff. Very serious controlled substance stuff, in the county that employs me to deal with that type of thing. It’s my job, sir.”

  “Is it also your job to undermine my investigation?”

  “Colonel Riley, with all due respect, this is not your investigation. You are not investigating anything. You’re sitting in your office making sure there’s no dust on your shiny little badge. This investigation belongs to those of us that are out here investigating. One of those is an agent employed by the State of Missouri. A young woman in whom I have so much confidence, one of the very best people you have has lent her to me to help take care of this little problem.”

  “You can’t have her help, and we certainly don’t need yours!”

  “Colonel, you believe there are drugs being sold at the club in question. I know there are. I also know who is selling those drugs, and who is supplying those who are selling those drugs. I know their names, I know their faces, I know where they are and, if you weren’t such a pompous little shit, and I wasn’t afraid you’d screw everything up trying to look good, I’d tell you. But, gosh, I’m sorry, Mason. That’s just not gonna happen.”

  Red-faced and nearly shaking, Riley turned to Smoot. “I want this man fired!” he shouted.

  Smoot smiled. “I don’t think so,” Dale said. “I don’t work for you either.”

  The phone on Dale’s desk rang. “That’s my direct line,” he said. “Excuse me for a moment, gentlemen.”

  The waiting area was quiet until Dale returned. “Ah, Crockett,” he said, “you and Colonel Riley are wanted on the phone. It’s on speaker.”

  They followed Smoot into his office. “Deputy Crockett and Director Riley are here, sir,” Smoot said.

  The voice from the phone was quiet and confident. “Colonel Riley?” it said.

  “Yes. Who is this?”

  “Colonel, my name is Winston Bickford. Is that name familiar to you?”

  “Ah, yessir, it is.”

  “Mister Crockett, are you there also?”

  “I am.”

  “Do you recognize my name?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “I am the administrator of the DEA, sir. It has come to my attention that in your zeal to do the right thing, you may have stepped on some toes as you attempted to cut a corner or two.”

  “Anything is possible, sir,” Crockett said.

  “I am vaguely familiar with your efforts to see justice done in the past. On occasion you have behaved in a less than appropriate manner and taken certain shortcuts the average law enforcement officer might not have taken. Would that be true?”

  “It could be interpreted that way, yessir.”

  “Colonel Riley, I believe that you take exception to Officer Crockett’s mode and methods.”

  Riley smiled. “I certainly do, sir,” he said.

  “Of course,” Bickford went on. “As much as I hate to interfere with agencies outside my standard prevue, I’d like to resolve this situation.”

  “I wish you would, sir,” Riley said.

  “Very well. Colonel Riley, leave Deputy Crockett alone. If he needs your assistance, I’m sure he will ask for it. If he
does ask for it, I would consider it a personal favor to both me and the government of the United States, if you would offer him your full cooperation. Do I make myself clear, Colonel, or would you like to speak with the Attorney General later today?”

  Riley was crushed. “Ah, Yessir. I mean Nossir, sir, that won’t be necessary.”

  “Good. Deputy Crockett?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Your methods in the past have been somewhat less than desirable upon occasion, but your results have been stellar. The limb I am on is not impervious. I expect your high level of achievement to be maintained.”

  “The situation has my full attention, sir.”

  “Excellent. By the way, it would be a shame if Sergeant Pelmore were to suffer any consequences because of his efforts to assist Deputy Crockett, don’t you agree, Colonel Riley?”

  “Yessir.”

  “Thank you, gentlemen. Good day.”

  Riley turned on his heel and was followed out the door by his grinning driver. Smoot turned to Crockett and stared at him for a moment.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said.

  Crockett grinned. “Call me Crockett,” he replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Smoot said almost nothing as he and Crockett walked to the diner. As a matter of fact, he didn’t really say anything until his meatloaf special was on the table. He peered at it then raised his eyes.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  “I’m just me,” Crockett said, “but I do have some outstanding friends.”

  “You’re responsible for that phone call, huh?”

  “Actually, a woman named Ivolee Minerva Cabot is responsible for the call. I just started the ball rolling.”

  “You know this Bickford guy?”

  “Naw. Never met him. Never even heard his name before today.”

  “Then this Marilee woman knows him?”

  “Ivolee woman,” Crockett corrected. “Probably, or she knows the people who run him. Wonderful gal. More money than Oprah.”

  “Jesus. You make one call and the director of the fucking DEA is on the phone making sure you get your way.”