Gene gestured to the humidor and Cyprus merely shook his head. He wasn't a smoker or a drinker. He took care of his body. In his profession, he needed to remain in peak physical condition.
“I'll take care of everything,” Cyprus said.
Gene nodded and allowed himself a satisfied smile.
“It's time to teach that asshole who runs this family,” he said.
***
Haley and Marcus didn't speak until they were outside of the hospital.
“You believe her?” Marcus asked.
“Every word. You?” Haley answered and asked.
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
Marcus pressed the key fob and unlocked the doors of his dark gray 1996 Dodge Power Ram pick-up.
Haley opened the door and climbed into the cab. She closed the door behind her and Marcus did the same.
“The way I see it, we've got two cases,” she said.
“Yeah. We've got this one and Smitty,” Marcus said in disgust.
“I don't understand why he would try to sweep this under the rug - and that's what he was doing,” Haley said as Marcus pulled out of the parking lot.
“Me either. I mean, he's always been a shitty cop but he's never done anything this bad before — at least that we're aware of,” Marcus said.
“I can't believe he even has a job in the department,” she said as Marcus laughed.
“I can. He's Susan O'Dell's nephew,” he said.
A disappointed look crossed Haley's face.
“A political favor,” she said bitterly.
“Yeah, but that's small town politics. I can't blame Chet. It was a smart move for the department. He gives her nephew a job and the department gets no flack at budget time. Just the way things work,” Marcus said.
“Until something like this happens,” Haley said.
“Well, you know your uncle well enough to know he won't let this slide,” Marcus said.
“I know. But I wonder how many times something like this has happened before. This goes beyond sloppy police work. It's criminal,” Haley said as Marcus turned onto Holly Street.
“Let's head over to Ms. Devlin's house and check it out. Now that we know about Smitty, it could be the crime scene hasn't even been processed yet,” Marcus said. “Then we'll report to Chet and let him deal with Smitty.”
Haley nodded in agreement and Marcus could see her anger had grown.
About five minutes later they arrived at the Oak Street house rented by Sara Devlin. Sure enough, no crime tape marked off the scene. The glass in the right front window of the brick rancher was shattered. Haley slipped on a pair of nitrile gloves and tried the front door. It was unlocked.
They walked inside and saw the shattered glass on the living room floor from the broken window. Haley squatted and took a look at the inside door knob.
“This place hasn't even been dusted for prints,” she said in disgust.
“I'll get your kit,” Marcus said as he retreated to the truck.
Haley carefully walked around looking at the blood splattered on the floor. She looked at overturned wingback chair and the remnants of a shattered lamp on the floor. The base of the lamp was round and heavy. It too was splattered with blood.
Marcus entered with the crime kit and a camera. He immediately started shooting pictures. Haley dusted the door knob, lamp base, and window for prints. She also took a sample of blood from a shard of broken glass from the window as well as samples from the lamp base and lamp pieces.
She carefully placed strands of hair from the lamp into a zip lock bag. Pieces of glass and lamp including the lamp base and pieces were also labeled and bagged.
While Haley worked inside, Marcus checked outside. The property was surrounded by a chest-high white wooden fence. On the right side of the house, which bordered an alley, Marcus found a full right footprint and a partial left footprint imbedded in the sparsely covered soil. He labeled the prints and snapped off a few more pictures before making a plaster mold of the prints. After about two and a half hours of work they finished processing the scene.
Marcus draped the broken window and front door with crime scene tape.
“You ready for some lunch?” Marcus asked after checking his watch. It was 12:23 p.m.
“I want to find Uncle Chet first. I want to report Smitty ASAP,” Haley said.
Marcus grinned and backed the truck onto the street.
***
In less than thirty minutes, Adam drove from Clinton up Hwy. 61 and crossed Hwy. 33 toward Stone City Highway. He parked his truck near Stone City Hardware and sat in the cab reading the local paper, The Independent-News. Adam watched the courthouse. He was waiting for Thurman to emerge. His plan was to follow him, get an idea of his daily routine, and hopefully find out where he lived.
Depending on the neighborhood, he could scout out a sniper's nest and eliminate his old foe.
He looked around courthouse square. Stone City looked like so many other small towns across the South and Midwest. It had all of the typical small town elements. The hardware store; courthouse with large concrete columns and steps; a diner — something called the End Zone — also typical; the Butcher County Utility District Office; the county ag extension office; two drug stores — City Drugs and Martin's Pharmacy; the Independent-News building: Coulee-Anderson Mortuary; the Lane Theater; Holiday's Barber Shop; city hall; at least three beauty parlors; and two clothing stores.
Yes, this could be Georgia, Texas, or even Iowa.
But it wasn't. It was still Tennessee and he had a job to do.
As he glanced down the front page, he saw a news brief that caught his eye.
“Fullbright named new chief investigator,” the headline read.
Reading the named almost startled Adam to the point of flinching. In his mind the words echoed from his longstanding nightmare: “Fullbright's bought it.”
For a few seconds, he could hear mortars and automatic weapons firing. He could almost smell the cordite and scents of the Vietnamese jungle.
He snapped out of his mini-trance and went back to article:
“Deputy Beau Fullbright is the new chief investigator for the Butcher County Sheriff's Department, according to a press release issued by the department on Monday.
Fullbright replaces the late Lonnie Rayburn, who passed away three weeks ago. The new lead investigator will assume his duties immediately.
'I have every confidence in this young man's ability to serve the people of Butcher County.'
The Independent-News will have a more detailed profile of Fullbright later this week.”
Adam was struck by the odd coincidence of seeing the name Fullbright. The familiar feeling of something just beyond his reach returned; much like it did when he would awake from his recurring Vietnam nightmare. He looked up from the paper and scanned courthouse square again. Something nagged at him. For whatever reason, something inside told him he had to learn more about this new investigator; it was almost like a sixth sense calling for him to act.
Adam looked up and saw his prey emerging from the diner.
Aside from a few pounds and gray hair, the years had been kind to Chet Thurman. He watched the sheriff cross the street stopping to speak to a few passersby on his way back to the courthouse.
Adam started the truck. Lunch was over and it would likely be a few hours before the sheriff headed home. He opted to take his time and go over all possible escape routes. If Adam had learned anything it was there was never any such thing as being too prepared.
***
After Marcus and Haley got back to the CID Office they shared the information they gathered with Beau. He immediately called Chet but found out he was gone to lunch.
Beau sat on the conference table and shook his head.
“I don't what Chet will do with him, but if it was left to me, Smitty would never work in law enforcement again,” he said.
“Be honest. You feel the same way I do. You want to throw his ass through a wall,” Marcus
said.
Beau looked at him and then Haley.
“I won't disagree with you. How long will the lab in Knoxville take on those samples?” he asked.
“I asked a couple of friends to give it priority. It's possible we'll get it today, but it might be a day or a two at best,” Haley said almost apologetically.
“That's better than what we usually get,” Beau said.
“Maybe we ought to ask the mayor for enough funding to build our own crime lab,” Marcus said.
“That should go over well with her nephew likely getting fired,” Beau said.
“I know it's a pipe dream but that would be wonderful. And it would save the county money in the long run,” Haley said.
“It would be but Smitty killed that dream, at least until we get a new mayor,” Beau said.
Marcus started to answer when the door opened and in walked Chet.
“You know, the way this usually works is that you come to my office,” Chet said as he walked in and took a seat behind Beau's desk. He looked up at Beau and waved off a reply. “I'm only kidding. I figured it was something important when Brenda said you sounded like it was urgent when you called.”
Beau looked to Haley and Marcus.
“Tell him. First about Smitty and then about the case,” he said.
And they did. Chet sat and listened for the most part impassively. Occasionally, his eyes would flash with anger but he said nothing. When they finished, Chet rubbed his chin with his right hand.
“Well, I'll handle Smitty today. In fact, I'll have Brenda call him in. He'll never wear a badge again,” he looked at the three people in front of him — Beau sitting on the table, Haley sitting in a chair across the table to his left, and Marcus sitting at his desk to Beau's right. “You did the right thing. You see, the name Devlin threw me. I didn't recognize it. Bob Tackett on the other hand, there's a name that speaks volumes.”
“So he does have a history,” Haley said.
“Honey, his rap sheet reads like a study of domestic violence, especially in his younger days when he and Gene Raven ran together. He's been arrested many times but he's never been convicted. Raven money always paid off his victims to keep quiet. He finally ran into one he couldn't buy,” Chet said.
“I hate to be a wet blanket, but we don't have the test results back yet. It could still turn out to be someone else,” Beau said.
Chet nodded.
“It could. But there's something else you three apparently don't know. Susan O'Dell's maiden name was Tackett. Not only is she Smitty's aunt, Bob Tackett is his uncle,” he said.
“So Smitty wasn't incompetent, he was obstructing justice,” Haley said in disbelief.
“Looks that way. And I'll call Toby for an arrest warrant if it the evidence proves Tackett is the assailant,” Chet said.
Marcus grinned.
“When you burn a bridge with the mayor, you really burn a bridge,” he said.
Chet allowed himself a chuckle
“I know you're talking about doing the right thing, but the mayor is going to be so pissed,” Marcus said.
“She'll get over it because she won't have choice. I'm sure your mother would love to turn one of her reporters loose on a story about the mayor's brother and nephew getting arrested. No, the mayor will be too busy trying to spin this thing to worry about revenge,” Chet said.
“Speaking of mom, she wants you to sit down with someone at the paper so they can do a profile of you,” Marcus said to Beau with a smile.
“Aw c'mon. Georgia knows me. She could write a book about me without having to ask me a question,” Beau said.
“Sorry Beau. Goes with the job. I forgot to mention that part when I hired you. It's usually best to get these things over as quick as you can,” Chet said as Haley covered her mouth to hide a smile.
Out of the corner of his eye, Beau noticed her. Her smile was beautiful. He dropped his head and nodded.
“Okay. I'll drop by there today and get this over with. Besides, it's been a few days since I talked to Georgia. It'll be good to see her,” Beau said.
“You might want to sound her out about Tackett - off the record of course. She knows his history well. Georgia can probably tell you more about him than county records can,” Chet said.
Beau looked to Marcus.
“When was the last time you saw your mom?” He asked.
Marcus laughed.
“Last night as a matter of fact. Me and Chelsea took Mike over to see her. She's not interested in me. Besides, I've seen my name in the papers enough over the years,” he said.
“I just thought maybe while I'm talking to a reporter you could talk to her about Tackett,” Beau said.
“I would but I need to set up our brand new computers,” Marcus said.
“I'll go. I haven't got to talk to your mom in ages,” Haley said.
Beau turned his head and looked at her for split second.
“Works for me. Find out everything you can,” he said.
She held up a small writing pad.
“I'll take notes,” she said.
“While you two do that and Marcus does whatever magic he does with the computers, I'll be firing a deputy,” Chet said.
“Need any help?” Beau and Marcus asked at the same time.
Chet smiled and shook his head.
“I'll be okay,” he said.
Chapter Two
It was a short walk from the courthouse to the newspaper office. Beau and Haley barely spoke as walked over.
Each felt awkward to be alone with the other and thrilled at the same time. It was not a combination conducive to a flowing conversation.
When they arrived at the newspaper office, Beau held the glass door for her to enter. Haley nodded politely and walked in. He took the opportunity to catch a glimpse of her backside swaying as she walked. It took an effort for him to look up and he did so at the right time as she turned to speak.
“Do you think we should have called first?” She asked.
“No, I'm sure she's here,” he said.
As he was speaking, Haley realized she caught him checking her out, like so many current and former coworkers. Ordinarily it would bother or even anger her. This time it didn't — in fact, it was quite the opposite. She felt warm and happy.
About that time and older African American woman emerged from an office near the reception area.
She was tall — 5'11 - and slim with an equal mix of silver and black hair. She wore wire-frame glasses and a broad smile.
“I'd know that voice anywhere! ‘Bout time you got over here,” she said to Beau. “And I never see enough of you,” she said as she hugged Haley.
“Good to see you too Georgia,” Haley said.
“It's always good to see but it appears I'm not here to see you,” Beau said as Georgia laughed.
“Don't worry, we'll be gentle,” Georgia said as she looked to the receptionist, an older woman named Delores, who sported a beehive hairdo and cat eye glasses. “Would you have Cindy come down to meet Mr. Fullbright for an interview?”
The woman offered a faint smile and picked up the phone to page the reporter.
“You know how much I hate these things,” Beau said.
Georgia looked down at Haley, whom she still had an arm draped around.
“Marcus said he was the same way in college. He apparently only grunted at sportswriters after games,” she said teasingly.
“Actually, Marcus talked enough for both of us and there was usually little left to add,” he said.
“Sounds like my boy,” Georgia said.
About that time a woman wearing blue jeans and a dressy looking purple blouse appeared. She had chestnut hair, brown eyes, and a very pretty face. She extended her hand to Beau, ignoring Haley altogether.
“I'm Victoria Wagner, nice to meet you Mr. Fullbright,” she said.
Beau noticed her firm grip and looking at him with a half-smile, a look Haley did not like seeing.
“Likewise,”
he said.
“If you'll follow me to the conference room, we can get started,” she said.
“Vickie dear, this is Haley Garrison,” Georgia said.
“Yes, you're a deputy with the department aren't you?” Victoria asked.
“Actually she's an assistant investigator and well qualified for the job,” Beau said.
Haley looked up at him with a smile.
“Soooo, am I interviewing both of you?” Victoria asked.
“Actually, I'm only here to see Georgia. That's your interview,” Haley said, pointing to Beau who gave her a “Gee thanks” look.
“Oh, okay. Mr. Fullbright if you would step this way,” Victoria said as turned to walk away. Beau nodded and stepped to follow her.
“I'll be here when you're finished,” Haley said as much for the benefit of Victoria as for Beau.
Georgia gave Haley a sideways glance and then looked at Beau walking away.
“So you're here to see me?” Georgia asked.
“Yes and it's official business - kind of,” Haley said.
“Well, let's go to my office,” Georgia said, leading Haley a few steps to the right. “Please, have a seat,” she said gestured to a brown leather sofa to the right of her desk.
Haley looked around the office. It was her first visit to that office in at least seven years. Nothing much had changed.
The walls were lined with various awards from the Tennessee Press Association and pictures of Marcus through the years along with photos of his father, her late husband, Michael. Her large cherry desk was clutter free and a computer and workstation in the far corner of the office were just as neat.
After Haley settled onto the sofa, Georgia closed the office door.
“Before we get started can I get you anything?” Georgia asked.
“No thank you,” Haley said noticing the warm smile of the older woman as she joined her on the sofa.
“So, what can I do for you dear?” Georgia asked.
“Well, what can you tell me about Bob Tackett?” Haley asked as Georgia made a sour face.
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