Seminole Bend

by Tom Hansen

  “To make a long story short, Roy blackmailed me. Every now and then he would call and threaten to tell you about the affair if I didn’t cooperate in some plot he was cooking up. Later he even said he would kill you if I didn’t do what he said. His actual words were, ‘dispose of your hubby.’ When he thought that I might spill the truth and tell you about the affair, he threatened to kill me.

  “As the years went on, Roy would demand that I meet him for coffee or lunch. He was going to use me in this wild get rich and powerful scheme of his. He had moved away from Pittsburgh, but kept coming back just to harass me. I found out he had purchased a huge ranch in southern Florida, but I could never figure out why. He didn’t seem much like someone who wanted to work the land or milk cows the rest of his life.

  “Brett never knew it, but Roy paid for his college, and then Roy donated $100,000 to the Seminole Bend athletic department with one catch . . . they had to hire Brett as the head basketball coach. The corrupt athletic director never blinked an eye or even said a word to the school board. From what I heard, the school district never saw a penny of that donation.

  “But Brett was still in love with his childhood sweetheart, Sheryl Babbitt, and she didn’t want to move to Florida. She was very close to her family and agreed to marry Brett only if he would stay in Pennsylvania. When Roy found out that Brett might back out of the job that he had bought for him, he flew to Pittsburgh and followed the Babbitt family around one night. Mom and dad had picked Sheryl’s brother up from practice and were going to pull into Burger King for dinner on the way home. Roy was right behind them, and while they were waiting for oncoming traffic to make a left turn, Roy smashed into their bumper forcing the Babbitt’s car to be hit head on by a dump truck. They were killed instantly. Roy told police his brakes had failed, and then had some buddies from Marks, Taylor and Smith get the case against him dismissed out of court.

  “Meanwhile, Sheryl was devastated at losing her entire family, and decided that she wanted to get out of Pennsylvania and start over in Florida. Roy told me what he had done over lunch the day after the accident. I was frightened and appalled and I knew if I tried to go to the authorities, he would have Lew killed. Then he started to tell me more about his grandiose plans to take over America and I was terrified. That’s when I met Bo.”

  Bo continued with the story, seeing that Janet needed a break. “Our task force secured the names of every CIA agent living in the United States and abroad. President Nixon gave us the list personally and it contained the names and addresses of both active and retired agents. Then Nixon told us not to make contact with him again. We were told to locate and eliminate any and all threats to the United States without alarming the general public. He also said he would vehemently impugn any orders he had given if we were caught, and he would claim that the permission letters signed and sealed by him were fakes. So we knew it was kill or be killed, no help was coming. And when Jimmy Carter was elected, we knew we were really on our own.

  “President Nixon opened up and financed an offshore bank account in the Cayman Islands so our task force could fund operations until we succeeded. His last phone call to me was very brief. He asked how the mission was going and what we had found since he left office. Then Nixon said if we were successful with our quest, we could keep whatever was left in the account for our retirement. After Watergate, we never heard from him again.

  “We investigated the CIA agent list as thoroughly as we could, but with only three people, it took a great deal of time. Then we found out that one of the supervisors of the agency, Oliver Harfield, had built a huge estate on a golf course in Seminole Bend. Because that was my hometown, I took a special interest. On a wing and a prayer, I called the sheriff’s department and said I was with the IRS and we were investigating a tax situation with Harfield. I never said what kind of tax situation, but I asked if the department had ever received a complaint about him. I lied and said that Harfield may have some friends in the area who might be hiding some income from real estate investments. I was fishing for anything. I was hoping to find out if others in the area were associated with Harfield that we could follow up on. I left a phone number for a motel I was staying at in Moore Haven, then decided to get back on the big lake and break some bass necks. I had really missed those days.

  “The next day, I got an anonymous phone call from someone at the sheriff’s department in Seminole Bend telling me to check out a rancher named Roy Jackson. Then he hung up before I could ask any questions. So one night, I decided to drop in on Roy, but I couldn’t get past the two guards he had posted at his driveway. Right then I knew something suspicious was going on. No rancher needs two armed guards unless he’s doing things he shouldn’t be doing. The next day, I rented a crop duster from a farmer in Pahokee and flew several times over the Jackson ranch. I noticed he had guards all over the property. As I was turning back to Pahokee, a small plane was descending below me and heading for the swamp behind the ranch. I watched the pilot drop several containers from a cargo hold into the water, and then ascend back into the clouds and turn south. Four or five boats scrambled out to the containers from Jackson’s ranch and picked them up. I figured Roy was dealing drugs.

  “The next night I rented an airboat from Bennett’s Airboat Palace hoping that Phil, the owner, wouldn’t recognize me from my days playing ball in Seminole Bend. Fortunately, he didn’t, and I headed back to the ranch by going up the Kissimmee River until I found a break in the mangroves that led to Jackson’s swamp. I hid the boat and swam across the swamp amidst a family of gators who must have just eaten. They left me alone. I snuck up to the barn and noticed what appeared to be an office attached to it, so I broke in.

  “There was a shortwave radio, which was odd, and a bunch of other stuff you would normally find in an office. I found nothing to implicate Roy in any drug dealing or other scheme with Oliver Harfield, so I decided to leave and call the FBI when I got back to the motel. They could investigate Roy, but I needed to get back to my mission. I would start with the next name on my list.

  “But as I was about to leave, I noticed a name and phone number pinned to a cork bulletin board above the phone that was on Roy’s desk. I took it off and saw Janet’s name on the note with a Pennsylvania area code. I stuck it in my pocket and turned to leave when I accidently knocked a framed picture off of Roy’s desk. As I was putting it back on the desk, I glanced at the photo, then did a double take. Roy was standing next to someone that looked very familiar, as he was raising a ten-pound bass high in the air by the gills. Then I remembered seeing the other man in a file that our task force kept. It was Ray Jackson, who worked closely with Oliver Harfield. I assumed that Roy must be Ray’s brother. I pulled the note back out of my pocket and looked at it again. I thought Janet Berry might be able to give me some information, so my plan was to start with her.”

  Lance stood up and went over to the cupboard. On the top shelf were all sorts of bottles of liquor. He reached up and grabbed a fifth of Jack Daniels. “Anyone else need a drink. This story is getting complicated!” Everyone nodded. He didn’t bother trying to find glasses. Where he lived down by the phone booth, his buddies just passed the bottle around. That seemed to work for everyone sitting at the kitchen table, including Agent Jones and Agent Tecka, who were busy taking notes while Bo spilled his guts.

  Bo continued, “I phoned Janet and she met me at a coffee shop in Pittsburgh.” Then he paused and glanced over at Lew and Janet, not sure how he should approach this topic. Lew could read his mind. Janet gave him an affirmative nod.

  “Go ahead, Bo,” stated Lew confidently. “I can handle it.”

  “Well, Janet obviously didn’t want Lew to know what was happening, but she was very clear it was to protect him.” Bo locked eyes with Lew. Bo knew Janet was very brave in her actions and he wanted that bravery to be very clear to her husband. “I lied to Janet and told her I was with the FBI and we were investigating Roy for fraud and other possible crimes. I couldn’t reveal to her t
hat I was part of a special task force, nor what our real mission was. Thankfully, she never asked for a badge.”

  Lew turned to Janet and interrupted, “How much did you know about Roy’s activities?”

  Janet responded, “After I met up with Bo, he asked if I could help him out. He assured me that he would protect me. So I convinced Roy that my life was miserable and I would like to become part of his operation. He bought it, and then filled me in on what was happening.”

  “He bought it?” asked Lew. “Did you have to cozy up again to make that work?” He was being sarcastic, but deep down he wasn’t sure.

  “Lew, I wasn’t involved sexually with Roy Jackson after that one-night stand. I’m sure later on he wanted me again, but I only led him on to get information. That’s all. I swear it!”

  “It’s true, Lew,” inserted Bo. “She may have saved our country from ruin.”

  “Go on, please!” said Agent Jones. “We need to get to the bottom of this soon. Time isn’t on our side!”

  Bo continued, “Roy told Janet that he offered Brett a new house, car and a boatload of money to join him in his scheme. Brett never knew that Roy was his father. Then, at a teacher retreat last June, Brett met Norma Foss, who was a fifth grade teacher at the elementary school. The kids call her Miss, but actually she’s married. After the retreat, he began an affair with her. She became pregnant almost right away, which was a shock to her family and friends because she had told them that her husband, Doug, couldn’t have kids due to a low sperm count.

  “Meanwhile, Sheryl Berry had become pregnant at about the same time. Brett confided to Roy what had happened and Roy knew he needed to fix the problem. Roy decided that it was best to simply get rid of Sheryl Berry. But he didn’t tell Brett his plan, and the night of the basketball game, Brett actually thought Sheryl drove the truck into the culvert. Roy hadn’t planned on Brett being killed trying to save Sheryl. That was just an accident and it devastated Roy personally. It also threw his mission into turmoil.

  “Now, I have to admit, what I’m about to tell you next was improper and covert, but you need to know the truth to validate what I’m going to say. It came from the FBI report that surfaced following your investigation.” Bo looked right at Jones and Tecka. They both looked stunned.

  “Surfaced? FBI reports aren’t made of Styrofoam; they don’t just float! How did you get an FBI report?” asked Jones angrily.

  “Well, I’m sure you will soon guess, so I might as well tell you. Yes, you have a CIA mole in your office. Now don’t get excited, we have moles in every major FBI office in the United States.”

  Jones and Tecka glanced at each other and looked livid and perplexed. Then Jones said in a subdued tone, “Well, go on. Tell them all what our theory is!”

  Bo continued again, “Roy substituted a dead male body for Sheryl and placed him in the truck. That turned out to be a mistake, because Coroner Cliff Sutton determined that the charred bones could only be from a man over six feet tall. Anyway, from the video room right here in Daughtry’s house, Brett’s truck was driven from the high school to the culvert, then steered into it.”

  “How?” asked Johnny Murphree. “Are you talking about those joysticks in the video room? That’s incredulous!”

  “No, Johnny, it’s not,” replied Willy. “I found a metal box in Brett’s truck over at the impound lot connected to the steering wheel. It had some sort of electronic gadget in it, like a radio receiver. And the box had an engraving on it that matched the engraving on that big dish outside of Sam Dulie’s office window.”

  “I’ll get to that, Willy,” inserted Bo. “It’s Arabic writing. I’ll explain in a little bit. Anyway, going back to Roy, he decided to kidnap Sheryl and keep her around until the baby was born. This sounds crazy, but Sheryl and Norma Foss’s babies are technically Roy’s grandkids. That may be his one and only soft spot, I guess.

  “But then Oliver made the decision to test the radar jamming equipment, which was being assembled in Columbia, to make sure he could count on the devices. We’re not sure who installed the jammers on the planes or in the air traffic control center in Miami.”

  “NTSB,” interrupted Willy. Everyone looked at him. “It was someone from the NTSB.”

  “Why do you say that?” inquired Bo.

  “There is a video recording of a car pulling up to the NTSB office in Tampa after the crash this week. I have a gut feeling the person installing the jammers is NTSB. Makes sense, aren’t they the only ones who would be allowed to fiddle around in the control towers without raising suspicion? They could say they were there to check out the system.”

  “You might be on to something,” said Agent Jones. “But it would have to be a NTSB higher-up in order to make this scheme work. We’ll get to the bottom of it when we get back to the office. Please go on with your story.”

  “So when Roy found out that Oliver was successful in causing a midair collision over Miami, he decided to eliminate Sheryl, cut off her hand and plant it at the crash site. He hoped the FBI would find it, then identify the wedding ring and assume she died in the airplane accident.”

  “You stole the report about Sheryl’s wedding ring, too?” asked Agent Tecka with a disgusted look on his face. “I hope you realize that when we find your mole, he’ll waste away in a prison cell!”

  “Bo, that’s not exactly what happened to Sheryl,” muttered Janet in a low voice, not sure she wanted to say anything at all. “I haven’t told you something.” Now all eyes were staring at Janet.

  CHAPTER 81

  Sunday, March 14, 1982

  7:30 p.m.

  “S heryl’s not dead,” murmured Janet. “Roy cut off her hand to stage the accident, but he’s keeping her alive until the baby’s born. He pretended to have her board the Trans South jet in Miami.”

  “For God’s sake, where is she?!” yelped Lew at his wife. “That plane crash was a month ago. We need to find her!”

  “She’s doing fine. Father O’Shea is keeping her in the basement of the Catholic church in Seminole Bend. Roy’s thugs kidnapped Father’s younger brother and sister and is holding them ransom. He threatened to kill them if Father turns him in. Sister Mary and Sister Roberta patched up her hand, I mean wrist, and are watching over her pregnancy.”

  Agent Jones was nervously clicking his pen cap with his thumb. “Get back on track, Bo, there’s a huge gap in your story you haven’t told us. You talked about finding Roy and Janet back in ‘74 or ‘75, but you obviously had a lot of leads to follow since that time that brought you here today. I’m not buying that Janet gave you all this information from her few chats with Roy Jackson. Yet, you seem to know this scheme of Harfield’s pretty much inside and out. Come clean, Bo, what are you leaving out?” Jones had drawn a bubble map and flow chart on his notepad and was trying to organize this plot in his mind. “How did you find Tyrus? I can’t see a connection between Janet and him.”

  Bo looked over at Willy, then to Johnny Murphree and back at Jones. Tyrus stretched out his fingers like a web and covered his face. Everyone wanted to know the answer to Jones’ question.

  “You should tell them,” uttered Tyrus. “We’ve got more work to do and will need their help. They need to know everything.”

  Bo looked at each and every person in the room before responding. He clamped his arms behind his back and paced the room, staring down at the floor as he tried to gather his thoughts. Then he came back to the table and stood while everyone looked up with anticipation at the man who had been a high school, college and NFL star running back. They wanted to hear what their one-time hero had to say.

  “I mentioned we had a mole in every major FBI center in the United States,” said Bo in a restrained voice. “Well, I’ve had an inside person in Oliver’s little group of friends for several years. I was trying to avoid telling you to keep all this confidential and also to protect you. If Harfield finds out, everyone in this kitchen would be in grave danger.”

  Everyone in the room looked at e
ach other, trying their best to picture the members of Oliver’s gang of criminals.

  “Our inside man is Sheriff Al Bonty,” stated Bo. There were loud grunts, and then everyone in the room started talking at once. A conversation taking place in the Tower of Babel would be better understood than in Daughtry’s kitchen at that moment. Bo motioned with his arms to quiet down, like so many quarterbacks that he played with did in tight games and loud stadiums.

  “Can’t be!” proclaimed Willy as he stood and faced his best friend. “The man’s a total ass! He fired me as a deputy sheriff, Bo!”

  “I asked him to fire you, Willy,” replied Bo as he stepped forward and affectionately patted Willy on the shoulder. “You were getting too close to finding the truth. You would have been killed by one of Roy’s goons. Bonty was the anonymous caller from the sheriff’s department who tipped me off while I was in Seminole Bend, and he also pointed me in the direction of Tyrus. Al knew you were my best friend and thought that I could convince Tyrus to risk his life and join our side. And obviously, that was no problem. Tyrus wanted no money, the only thing he wanted in return was a promise that someday he would see Abby, Tyrone and his brothers again.”

  “But Sheriff Bonty?” inserted Johnny Murphree. “He’s been nothing but a jerk to everyone in the department.”

  “That was the plan, Johnny. To give us a chance and allow us to infiltrate their group, Bonty had to be a tough guy and prove to Roy and Oliver his value. But Sheriff Bonty also had another reason. A personal one.” Bo turned away, not really wanting to say anymore.

  “Tell us,” ordered Agent Jones, the ball point of his pen pressed against the notepad. “What was Bonty’s personal vendetta all about?”

  Tyrus nodded at Bo to finish the story. “Al Bonty was a happily married Seminole Bend deputy sheriff back in 1964, who had a son in ‘65 and a daughter in ‘67. His wife was an attractive, loving soul that had many friends and no enemies. The marriage was blissful, but ended when Roy Jackson forced them into a staged divorce two months after Al’s daughter was born.”