Tony Wolf/Tim Buckthorn - 02 - Broken Shield

by J. D. Rhoades

  Donovan wasn’t convinced, but he let it go. “So what now?”

  “I like the idea of an eye for an eye. That girl agent’s got family down in Louisiana. Maybe you pay them a visit. And that other FBI fella, that Wolf. He’s got him a pretty little Latin gal for a girlfriend.” He cackled. “Maybe we can set y’all up a blind date.” He waved a hand at Donovan. He seemed almost cheerful now. “But not right now. Let ‘em think they’re safe. Right now you take some time off. Go get laid.”

  “Thanks,” Donovan said, thinking of Patience in the outer room. “I just might do that.”

  __________

  He’d been on the road for hours, working his way slowly down the Interstate, hitting every truck stop he could find, checking out the security. When he saw what he was looking for, he made a note of the exit in his notebook and moved on, waiting for dark. When the sun finally began to slide below the horizon, he headed back up in the direction he’d come, towards the first stop he’d marked. The girls were just starting their “shift”; they stood together in a knot, smoking and talking, looking around at the trucks beginning to fill up the lot, until the car with “Dixie Security” stenciled on the side pulled up. He couldn’t hear what the man in the passenger seat said to them, but it was enough to scatter the group in all directions like frightened deer. Buckthorn got out of his truck and got ready. It was time to bring some pain to the land of the Lizard King.

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  “So,” Deputy Director Pat Steadman said, “You’re telling me we’ve got nothing.”

  They were in Wolf’s office. Steadman had flown down from Washington to take command of the investigation, and he sat behind the desk he’d commandeered from Wolf.

  “We’re still working on it, sir,” Dushane said. She was sitting in the office’s sole chair. Wolf leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest.

  Steadman picked up a file folder and leafed through it. “This Donovan has an airtight alibi,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless.

  “The Jackson, Mississippi office is trying to get a warrant for the surveillance tapes from the casino,” Dushane said.

  “Which they most likely won’t get,” Steadman answered with that same infuriating calm, “since all we have to go on is an assumption that this is connected with Lampton Monroe and his people.”

  “Who else would go after Buckthorn and Dushane?” Wolf said.

  “How do you know they were even the target?” Steadman shot back. “Maybe the woman was the intended victim. I hear her husband’s made some enemies. Have you even looked at him?”

  Wolf and Dushane looked at each other. “No,” Wolf finally said.

  Steadman took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “Explain to me again why you two aren’t too close to this and why I shouldn’t put someone else on it.” He put the glasses back on. “Especially you, Agent Dushane, considering that you’re romantically involved with the brother of the victim.” She opened her mouth as if to answer, then closed it. “Don’t look so shocked, Agent,” Steadman said. “You don’t get to be a Deputy Director by being clueless. Did you think I was clueless, Agent Dushane?” the lack of emotion in the harsh words somehow made them even more intimidating.

  “No, sir,” she said in a small voice.

  “Good,” Steadman said. “And speaking of Deputy Buckthorn, have either of you heard from him? Either of you have any idea where he is?”

  “No, sir,” Wolf said. Dushane just shook her head.

  He picked another file up. “Well, I do. We’ve got reports of lot security officers at three different Interstate truck stops being assaulted by and robbed by a man who identifies himself clearly to the victims as Tim Buckthorn.”

  “Let me guess,” Wolf said. “All of the rent-a-cops were from the same company.”

  Steadman nodded. “Dixie Security. Owned by one Lampton Monroe.”

  “So he’s trying to get back at Monroe…how?” Wolf said. “By stealing his money?”

  Dushane spoke up. “He’s trying to get Monroe and Donovan to come after him,” she said. “Somewhere other than Pine Lake.”

  They both turned to look at her. “And did he tell you this himself?” Steadman said. Just the barest hint of anger had crept into his voice.

  She shook her head. “No, sir. Not in so many words. But…” she took a deep breath. “As you say, sir, I’ve been…involved with him. I know him pretty well. At least I thought I did. The one thing he wants to do more than anything else is to protect his town and the people in it.”

  Wolf nodded. “That sounds like the Buckthorn I know.”

  Dushane went on. “He took his sister’s death hard. Not just because it was his sister, but because he saw it as the failure of his life’s work. That much he did tell me.”

  “So now he wants revenge,” Wolf said, “but he doesn’t want Pine Lake to be the battleground again.”

  “Agent Dushane,” Steadman said, “Do you have reason to believe that Buckthorn is suicidal? Because that’s what this looks like. A lot more than it looks like revenge.”

  She tried to keep her voice steady as she said, “I’ve considered the possibility, sir.”

  “And yet, you didn’t consider sharing it with your fellow agents.”

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “I should make you sorrier. I should suspend you without pay for your shocking lack of professionalism.”

  “Sir…” Wolf tried to interject.

  “Shut up, Agent Wolf,” Steadman said. “You’re as culpable as she is. Dushane, if you could make contact with Mr. Buckthorn, do you think you could talk him down?”

  “I don’t know, sir,” she said. I am not going to cry in front of this bastard, she thought fiercely. I am not going to fucking cry. “I tried it once, and I didn’t have much luck.”

  “Are you willing to try again?”

  “Are you asking, sir, if I want to try and talk Deputy Buckthorn out of killing the person who tried to kill both of us?”

  “Good point,” Steadman said, “and it raises the question: do we want to?”

  “Sir?” Wolf said.

  “No one’s denying that Lampton Monroe’s a scumbag, Agent Wolf. And Donovan’s a murderer several times over. We just haven’t been able to prove either of those things. If Buckthorn does manage to take them out, I don’t think I’m going to be losing any sleep over it.”

  Dushane couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “And if he doesn’t?” she said. “If he fails and gets himself killed in the process? I thought you liked Buckthorn. And you’re sworn to uphold the law. Just like I am.”

  “I do,” Steadman said. “And I am. So now do you have an answer to my question?”

  “An answer to your…” she trailed off.

  “Do we…do you…want to try and talk him out of this?”

  ”Yes sir,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  “Actually,” Steadman said, “I can’t order you to do it. Officially, you’re still off this investigation.”

  Dushane couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But sir, you just said…” the import of what he was saying sunk in. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good.” He got up, picked his coat up from where it had been hanging on the back of the chair and started to put it on. He looked at them. “Something else?” he said.

  “No, sir,” Dushane said as she and Wolf got up.

  “Good. Now if you two will excuse me, I have to get over to a little town nearby called Blainesville. You know it?”

  “Vaguely,” Wolf said. “It’s the next county over from Gibson. What’s going on there?”

  “Some kind of mess. A friend of mine who’s from there asked me to have a look at it.”

  After he left, she turned to Wolf. “Did he just tell us to do something we’re not supposed to do?”

  “Not officially, no,” Wolf said.

  “But he’ll back us up.”

  “If we succeed. If we fail, we’re on our o
wn.”

  “Jesus,” she said. “Machiavellian fucker, isn’t he? Guess that’s why he’s a Deputy Director.”

  “Probably going to be the head honcho one day,” Wolf said. “Which is something we ought to be praying for, I guess. In the meantime, how are we going to find Buckthorn?”

  “Go where he’s headed.”

  “And when we get there,” he said, “what the hell do we do? Go to Biloxi, camp out on Monroe’s doorstep and wait for Buckthorn to show up?”

  “You have a better idea?”

  He sighed. “I guess not.”

  She pulled out her phone. “You make the travel arrangements. I’ll try to call him again. Or text him. Assuming he knows how to use text.”

  Wolf laughed. “He’s that old school?”

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “He is.” She stopped, closed her eyes, took a deep breath.

  “Hold it together, L.D.,” he said soothingly. “We’ll get him.”

  “I don’t think we will, boss,” she said. She opened her eyes. “I think they’re going to get to him before we do. And they’re going to kill him.”

  “We’re not going to let that happen,” he said. “Remember, I’m the legendary bad-ass Tony Wolf who you idolize and who you begged to get teamed up with.”

  She laughed and brushed a tear away. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s get to work.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  They were on their way to the airport. Wolf was driving. Dushane was slumped in the passenger seat, punching away at her smart phone with her index finger. Suddenly she sat up straight. “Fuck,” she said in a low, savage voice.

  He looked over. “What?”

  She held up the phone, facing towards him. “On the CNN website.”

  He glanced over. “I can’t read it and drive at the same time. Just tell me.”

  She read from the screen. “Rogue cop on interstate rampage,” she read.

  “Wait, what?” he said. “Is it about…”

  “Yep,” she said.

  “Damn it,” he muttered.

  “It gets worse,” she said. “The one reporting the story’s your girlfriend.”

  “No.”

  She swiped at the screen, then turned up the volume. Gabriella Torrijos’ voice came from the tiny speaker. “A North Carolina sheriff’s deputy has been identified as the person responsible for attacks on security guards at three interstate truck stops…”

  “Look like she’s hit the big time,” Dushane said.

  “Turn it off,” he said through gritted teeth. Dushane killed the sound. Wolf fumbled his own phone out of the center console. “Call Gaby,” he snarled at it. He glanced down at the screen. VOICE COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED. He resisted the temptation to throw the device out the window. “Call Gaby,” he said again, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. He put the phone to his ear as the voice command system dialed the number. She picked up on the second ring. “What the hell are you doing?” he snapped.

  “Having a cup of tea and a bagel,” she said.

  “Stop it, Gaby. You know what I mean.”

  “I’m doing my job,” she said with that same infuriating calmness. “This could be big. At least that’s what CNN told me when they picked it up off my station’s feed and asked me to run with it.”

  “You realize you might get Buckthorn killed.”

  “No, Tony, I don’t realize that. Why don’t you tell me why that might be? And why one security company seems to be the target?”

  “I can’t,” he said.

  “Of course you can’t.”

  “It’s a current investigation, Gaby. It’s at a delicate stage. I’ll tell you about it when we’re done.”

  “That’s what you said the last time, Tony. And you never did.”

  “Gaby, please.”

  “Does this have something to do with the death of Buckthorn’s sister? Does he blame these people for the bombing? I know the man he killed in Tennessee was the grandson of the man who owns the security company. Is this some kind of feud going on?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “I tried to call this Lampton Monroe, but didn’t get an answer. Maybe I should…”

  “Gaby, don’t be an idiot,” Wolf said. “Stay the hell away from Lampton Monroe. Or anyone having to do with him.”

  “Why is that, Tony?” she insisted. “Are you saying he’s dangerous? That he did have something to so with Loretta Starnes’ death?”

  “I’m not saying anything,” Wolf bit down on the words. “But if he did…Gaby, I was involved in his grandson’s death, too. If he’s willing to kill Buckthorn’s sister for revenge…”

  “So he did have something to do with it!”

  “I didn’t say that!” he yelled.

  “If he didn’t, then I’m safe, right?”

  “God damn it, Gaby,” he said.

  “Tell me what I need to know,” she said.

  “Only if you promise not to run with it until the investigation’s over.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Just please. Stay away from this, Gaby. For just a while. Please.”

  “In a day or two, this could be the biggest story in the country, Tony. It could make my career.”

  “Is that all that matters to you?”

  There was a brief silence, then her voice came back, low and furious. “You, of all people, do not get to say that.” The line went dead. He stared at the phone in frustration until Dushane spoke up. “Boss,” she said in a tight voice. He looked up and realized he was drifting out of his lane. He yanked the car back on course.

  “She’s figuring it out,” Dushane said.

  “Yeah,” he replied, his voice tight. “She’s connected the dots.”

  “Hell,” Dushane said, “We should hire her.”

  “She’s trying to get to Monroe.”

  “Oh, boy,” she said. “I can’t think of any way that could go wrong.”

  “L.D.,” he said.

  “Sorry. But we need to keep her away, too.”

  “What do you want me to do? Have her arrested? Arrest her myself?”

  “It’s a thought.”

  “You’re kidding, right? Arrest Gaby. My…” he trailed off.

  “Might save her life.”

  “It might end our relationship.”

  “Boss,” she said gently, “I think that ship has sailed.” He drove in silence for a while, then she sighed. “I guess we can’t arrest a reporter unless she actually has done something stupid to obstruct our investigation.”

  “I guess not,” he said.

  “Wait, now you’re mad at me? Do we really have time for this shit?”

  They’d reached the airport entrance. As Wolf turned the car into the long, gently curving parkway that ended at the terminals, he said “No. We don’t. So what’s the plan?”

  She shrugged. “Sit on Monroe’s house and wait for Buckthorn to make a move.”

  “And then?”

  “We stop him.”

  “Do we?”

  She looked at him evenly. “You saying what I think you are, Tony?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know.”

  “Well, I do. If he tries to take those people head-on, he’s going to get himself killed.”

  They’d reached long-term parking. Wolf took a ticket from the automated dispenser. He didn’t answer her. “I thought he was your friend,” Dushane said softly.

  Wolf sighed. “I know. Stupid idea.” He wheeled the car into the parking lot. “Sorry.”

  “Yeah. Well, you damn sure better be.”

  “You know we’ll have to arrest him,” Wolf said. “I don’t know that he’ll go for that.” He spotted a parking space and made for it.

  “I know,” Dushane said. “I’m working on that.”

  “Working on a way to talk him out of it?”

  “That,” she said. “Also dealing with the thought of maybe having to shoot him.”

  They’d pulled into the space. Wolf put the car in park. “If
it comes to that,” he said. “I’ll take the shot.”

  She shook her head. “If it comes to that,” she said, “the person with the best shot takes it.”

  “L.D….”

  “I can do the job, boss,” she said, staring ahead through the windshield. “Whatever it takes.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I don’t want it to hollow you out.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “But I think that ship may have sailed, too.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Donovan awoke to Patience shaking him gently by one shoulder. He smiled and reached for her, but the smile died as he saw the expression on her face. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “But he wants you. Now.”

  “What’s his mood?”

  “It’s…odd.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Care to enlighten me further?”

  She bit her lip uncertainly. “I can’t describe it. He’s furious. But he’s also…it’s like he’s happy to be.”

  “Has the old fucker finally gone off his head?”

  She shook her head. “Actually, it’s the most lucid I’ve seen him in months.”

  “Huh. Tell him I’ll be right there.”

  The two of them had taken over a deserted room in the unused wing, far enough away that Monroe wouldn’t know he was still there, or hear him and Patience. He hadn’t bothered to take the covers off any of the other furniture, only the bed. He pulled on a pair of trousers that lay puddled on the floor and pulled a shirt from his overnight bag. He realized as he walked down the long silent hallway that he was whistling. He stifled himself, then pasted a serious expression on his face. If the old man was well and truly teed off, it wouldn’t do to walk in grinning like some kind of muppet.

  He heard movement behind him and whirled around, his gun hand reflexively moving towards a weapon that wasn’t there. A man was coming out of one of the other bedrooms. He was another one of the ‘roided up types that filled the ranks of Monroe’s so-called “security service.” This one had a round, rather small head crowned by a ridiculous looking Mohawk. He was dressed in jeans and leather vest over a ragged red T-shirt. What drew Donovan’s immediate attention was the AR-15 rifle slung over his shoulder.