Behind the Badge

by David R Lewis

  “Just on another track, dear.”

  “Uh-huh. How do you feel about that?”

  Satin smiled. “I think my train of thought should go wherever it wants,” she said.

  “I meant…oh, hell,” Crockett grunted, and turned away toward the house.

  Satin smiled and let him have a head start.

  *****

  Shelly was on the deck dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, holding a mug.

  “Morning, Crockett,” she beamed. “I’m on coffee patrol.”

  Crockett grinned at her. “Where’s your partner?”

  “He’s on a scrambled egg stake-out. There may be some bacon involved. He hasn’t reported in for a while.”

  Inside, Crockett found Stitch eyeballing a skillet full of bacon between bouts of whipping eggs into shape.

  “Breakfast in about twenty, man,” Stitch said. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “Been down the slope feeding the kids. They’re growing.”

  “You’re goin’ to see Pelmore today?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That oughta be kicks.”

  “Sure. I’m gonna go shower. When she comes in, tell Shelly we’re leaving in about forty-five minutes. That should just give her time to eat and get ready.”

  “She’s ready to go now, man. She was up around six or somethin’. I heard the shower runnin’ but said fuck it an’ went back to, like, sleep, dude. The kid’s got too much energy. Freaks me out.”

  Crockett smiled.

  “Everything okay, Stitch?”

  “Oh yeah. She’s a sweetheart, man. Got places to do an’ things to go, dude. I kinda like bein’ a fleeting diversion on her road of life.”

  “What?”

  “A comforting wayside along the path to her future.”

  “What?”

  “Sorry, man. Whippin’ eggs always make me wax poetic, ya know?”

  *****

  Crockett and Shelly had been sitting in the Sonic at Jeff City for about ten minutes when Pelmore rolled through and gave them the high sign. They followed him to the little park where he and Crockett had talked before and sat at a picnic table in some desirable shade. Pelmore looked at Shelly.

  “Special investigator Kiley,” he said. “You squared away with all this?”

  “Aye, aye, Gunny,” she replied.

  “Well, I’m not,” Pelmore continued, turning to Crockett. “What the fuck is going on?”

  Crockett took the next ten minutes and spelled out recent events.

  “So you’ve made one confiscation, then paid for it. You’ve got a undercover hippie turned cowboy that’s made another buy and got it on audio an’ video. You have a Cee-eye in place, you know who’s handling the shit locally, you want to make a significant buy and maybe take a step up the ladder, and you’re bucks in the hole with private money. That about it?”

  “More or less.”

  “An’ you need me ‘cause you ain’t got near enough warm bodies to bring all this home.”

  “Just like last time.”

  “Uh-huh. Las’ time didn’t work out too bad.”

  “Made you guys look pretty good,” Crockett replied.

  “Didn’t hurt. How much money you gonna need if your hippie can swing a bigger buy?”

  “I don’t know for sure. We figured just flash cash anyway. Didn’t plan on letting the buy go through. We bust some asshole at the scene with the money and the drugs, we got him in prison for life. That’s a pretty big incentive to cooperate.”

  “You need it, I can float ya as much as a million in marked and recorded bills.”

  “No shit?”

  “Hell, we got more than that. A lot more. All confiscated cash. No skin off the state’s nose. But if this is gonna work, it’s gonna have to be timed to the minute. We’ll have to hit the buy, the club and the carwash within seconds of each other. One phone call and rabbits’ll be runnin’ all over the goddammed place. I don’t want no cluster foxtrot on our hands.”

  “It’ll all hinge on the buy. I’m leaving that up to Stitch. He’s the one that’ll be hanging out in the breeze. They’ll expect him to be paranoid. The seller will be paranoid, too.”

  “An’ you got this Stacy woman workin’ for you and still sellin’ shit for the bad guys. She’s got both ends of the candle lit.”

  “Not my problem, Sarge.”

  “How you know she ain’t gonna crab on your ass?”

  “I don’t, but she wants to get outa Dodge and relocate someplace. She needs money. I’ve sorta promised to help with that. I already paid off her debt on the confiscated dope so the Cantrals wouldn’t beat the hell out of her, or worse. And she stands to get a commission for brokering the deal on another sale. Could mean thousands to her. I think greed will keep her in line. That’s why I want twenty-five grand for her out of your end.”

  “Zat right?”

  “Yep. I’ve also got sixteen grand of my money in this, and Stitch has sixteen grand of his. Those bills are photocopied and recorded. I want that money back. If it isn’t all there, I’ll need the state to make up the difference.”

  “You think so?”

  “You said you have millions. I just want what’s mine.”

  “Suppose I can’t swing that?”

  “I got confidence in you, Sarge. Besides, with all the work that’s been done already, it’d be a shame for you guys to have to start all over from scratch. Me and mine have done most of the setup for you. Hate to see you lose face if that became common knowledge.”

  “You are about a nasty sonofabitch, ain’tcha?”

  Crockett smiled. “You wanna chat with the Attorney General? Maybe he could help you make up your mind.”

  Pelmore gritted his teeth and looked around the park for a moment before his eyes settled back on Crockett. “How’s Kiley here workin’ out for ya?” he asked.

  Crockett chuckled. “Helluva a job, Sarge,” he said. “You oughta see her in her short little waitress skirt dancing in a go-go cage. Damn near restored my youth just lookin’ at her.”

  Shelly’s ears went red. Pelmore stood up.

  “I just polished my shoes,” he said. “Time to advance to the rear. I can get warrants and twenty or so guys in place with two or three days warning. Keep me posted and don’t screw up. This thing goes FUBAR, an’ you an’ me both’ll be makin’ little ones outa big’uns in the hot sun.”

  “I assume we have a deal,” Crockett said.

  “We do,” Pelmore replied.

  “Good. I’ll Email you all of the names and info I have on the bad guys and the locations in question for the warrants. I can get the one for the club if you like. It’s in my county. I got a judge.”

  “Doan worry about it.”

  “That reminds me,” Crockett went on. “If the buy goes down outside Hart County for some reason, I have no police powers.”

  “Should it be necessary,” Pelmore replied, “I shall bestow those upon you. Take care of him, Kiley. Old as he is, he might get confused.”

  “Ooo-rah, Gunny,” Shelly replied, and they watched Pelmore walk away.

  “C’mon, kid,” Crockett said. “I’ll buy you a coney dog.

  Shelly grinned at him. “Did I really almost restore your youth?” she asked.

  “Almost,” Crockett replied. “Almost.”

  “That’s okay,” Shelly went on. “Hanging around with you has almost rebuilt my faith in men.”

  *****

  “We’re in,” Crockett said. He, Stitch and Satin were at the kitchen snack bar. Shelly had gone to the guesthouse to get ready for work.

  “Even to make sure we’ll get our money back?” Stitch asked.

  “Yep. Plus twenty-five grand for Stacy if everything works out.”

  “He, like, got some doubts about that?”

  Crockett smiled. “He cautioned me against letting the whole thing go FUBAR.”

  Stitch laughed.

  “What’s foobar?” Satin asked.

  “F. U. B. A. R.” Sti
tch said. “Fucked up beyond all recognition.”

  “Sorta like SNAFU,” Crockett said.

  “What’s snafu?”

  “Situation normal, all fucked up,” Stitch told her.

  “I see,” Satin said.

  *****

  At around five, Shelly dropped back by the house before she left for work.

  “What time do Peterson and Shelia Graham get to the club?” Crocket asked.

  “Seven-thirty or eight except Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Then they’re usually in when I get there at six. Business picks up ‘cause of the weekend, and Thursday is ladies night. When things are busier, they come in earlier.”

  “You know anything about the Cantral brothers?”

  “No. I’ve seen Jack and the short one, but I’ve never met either of them. They’ve been in a couple of times that I know of after the place has closed, but I was always on the way home.”

  “You know nothing about the car wash, either.”

  “Nope. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll find a way to get eyes on the place or something. I need to know when Jack is most likely to be there. If Pelmore and his bunch hit it, I want Jack in house for the bust.”

  “You comin’ by for coffee tonight?”

  “Sure. Wouldn’t miss it. Now is not a good time for me to vary my routine.”

  “Okay. See ya. Bye, Stitch. See you, too?”

  “Count on it, baby sister.”

  Stitch watched her walk away and looked at Crockett. “Got a call while you were gone, dude,” he said. “Ol’ Stacy is comin’ out tonight around eleven. Wants to talk about a big order.”

  “No shit?”

  “Negative feces, man.”

  “Make a deal for the eight hundred grand worth of Opana and MDMA if you can.”

  “Okay.”

  “Get the whole conversation with camera and sound. Be specific, make sure she is, too.”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll be over around ten.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yeah. I wanna hide in the bedroom or someplace where I can hear the conversation. When the deal is sewn up, I think I’ll, uh…for want of a better term, expose myself. Let her know that I’m in on the whole thing and she’s been dealing to a cop.”

  “Wow. Fuckin’ freak her out, Crockett.”

  “I hope. She’s sure as shit not the sharpest axe in the shed, but she’s been around enough to be scared as hell of jail or prison and be willing to grasp at straws. That’s what I want. I want her to know she’s surrounded and the only way out is us.”

  “Choice, man.”

  “After I come out, you kill the lamp-cam. I don’t want any kind of record about what happens next. A defense attorney would love that shit.”

  “You’re about a nasty sumbitch, dude.”

  Crockett smiled. “You’re the second person that’s made that observation today.”

  “Must be true then, huh?”

  “And yet, Shelly thinks I’m wonderful.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Just this afternoon she and I were discussing how I could rebuild her faith in men and she could restore my youth.”

  “Yeah! Right after Satin changes her name to Fi-Fi La Boom Boom and buys her own pole. Jesus.”

  *****

  Crockett pulled up in front of the courthouse just as Dale Smoot exited the building. He caught the big man’s eye and moved his briefcase to the rear seat. Smoot got in.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Crockett smiled. “It’s on,” he said.

  “No shit.”

  “Nope. I was in Jeff City today and had a chat with Pelmore. The state is gonna get the warrants and the manpower. They’re even gonna front me up to a million bucks of flash money to make a big buy.”

  “Damn!”

  “They’re also gonna make sure Stitch and I get the money back we’ve already paid to set Stacy up, and a twenty-five grand tip for her so she can run.”

  “So this thing is getting close.”

  “Looks like it. It hinges on Stitch and the buy.”

  “I thought it took months to set something like this up.”

  “It would if we were trying to infiltrate an enemy camp or something. We got lucky. Let the feds deal with the big picture. That’s what they get paid for. Hell, that last thing with the cycle shop wound up going all the way to Italy. Who the hell knows where this might go, if it goes anyplace. I don’t give a shit about anything outside the county. My function is not to save the world. I just wanna make you look good.”

  Smoot snorted. “I’m glad you got your priorities straight at least,” he said.

  “We need another set of eyes,” Crockett went on.

  “What for?”

  “Jack Cantral. He lives in Liberty doesn’t he?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I need to know when he’s usually at the car wash, if he has an office someplace in town, the address and a description of his home, his vehicle, if Spud or Shorty hangs with him, stuff like that. Since it’s not our county and you are such a beloved figure in this area, I thought you might know somebody that could help out.”

  “Of course, you don’t wanna go to the local cops.”

  “No. Don’t want any of this getting back to Jack, even by accident.”

  “I know a lady up that way I see now and then. Spends a lot of her time in the shopping center where the car wash is anyway. Probably knows Jack and them by sight. I’ll see if she wants to be a secret agent. Give her something to brag about when it’s all over. She’d like that.”

  “Great.”

  “I’ll call her tonight and get it started.”

  “Good.”

  Smoot looked at him for a beat. “Why do I get the feeling that I work for you?” he asked.

  Crockett grinned. “You’re the high sheriff. I’m just a lowly deputy. You authorize my paychecks.”

  “Uh-huh,” Smoot grunted.

  “Speaking of that,” Crockett went on, “my last check was two hours short.”

  “Bite me,” Smoot said, and got out of the truck.

  *****

  Crockett got home a little before ten, changed clothes, and took the pontoon boat over to Stitch’s cabin. He hadn’t been there for ten minutes when headlights appeared in the drive. He went into the bedroom and left the door cracked as Stitch started the Lamp-cam and stepped onto the porch to welcome Stacy. When they came in, Stitch got each of them a beer, and took a seat at his new table. She joined him.

  “You’re kinda jumpy, girl,” he said. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Just the pressure, I guess. I never been in a deal this big before.”

  “We gotta a deal?”

  “My prices were good. Twenty-five thousand tabs of Opana thirties for three hundred thou, and ten kilos of MDMA for half a mil. Freaks me out a little.”

  “Relax. You’re okay.”

  “I don’t know. If somethin’ queers this, Shorty’ll kill me for sure. You’re in?”

  “Eight hundred large. Where and when?”

  Stacy took a piece of paper out of her purse and consulted it. “Ah, south of Clayville about a mile is a sod farm,” she said. “Big open field almost a mile square. There’s a private drive with a locked gate that runs through it off of a county road called Randal. Friday afternoon at three o’clock the gate will be unlocked. Drive to the middle of the field and wait. You’ll be met there and make the buy.”

  “No,” Stitch said.

  Stacy flinched. “No? Whadaya mean, no?”

  “Friday is fine,” Stitch replied. “I’ll be there at six-thirty in the afternoon in my helo to make the exchange. With me will be the cat that’ll test the dope. If I see more than two people on site, the deal is off. I’ll show the money, then test the drugs. If everything is cool, we’re done. The money’ll be in a duffle. Eight hundred thousand dollars in used hundreds. Your people can check random bills for counterfeit if they want. It’s that way or no
way.”

  “Lemme make a call,” Stacy said, getting to her feet and heading toward the door.

  “Right here, sister,” Stitch said.

  “Huh?”

  “You can make any call you want, but you do it right here at the table where I can see you and hear everything you say.”

  “Well shit! Don’t you trust me?”

  Stitch laughed.

  “Okay, okay,” Stacy went on, and began punching numbers into her cell phone. “It’s me,” she said. “Everything’s okay. We’re good to go except…yeah, I said except…except he wants the meet to be at six-thirty…how do I know? That’s just what he wants. He’ll be in a helicopter an’ have a guy with him to test the stuff…hundreds…your guy can check for counterfeit if you want…also, just two guys, no more…I guess he’s just careful!…He want’s what he wants or no deal, okay? Damn. All right. I’ll tell him.”

  Stacy disconnected and looked at Stitch. “It’s on,” she said. “You happy now?”

  “Friday afternoon at six-thirty.”

  “Yes.”

  “Twenty-five thousand hits of Opana and ten kilos of MDMA for eight-hundred thousand dollars, right?”

  “Yes, for chrissakes! You deaf or what?”

  Stitch smiled and stood up. “I hear just fine, sweetheart,” he said, walking to the lamp and shutting it off. “So does Crockett.”

  “Who?”

  “Me,” Crockett said, walking out of the bedroom.

  Stacy’s face got white. “Oh, fuck!” she said.

  “Pretty much,” Crockett replied, taking a seat beside her.

  “You guys played me!” Stacy went on. “You lousy bastards. You dirty cocksuckin’ sonsabitches!”

  “The term ‘police’ would also apply,” Crockett said.

  “Cops!” Stacy spat. “Both a you motherfuckers are fuckin’ cops?”

  “Yeah,” Stitch said. “Both us motherfuckers. Real bitch, huh?”

  “Oh, hell. Whadaya want?”

  “To give you some money.”

  “Money?”

  “Yeah. How’s twenty-five grand sound?”