Sooner Dead

by David L Thornburg

  Sooner Dead

  Oak Valley Secrets 2

  David L. Thornburg

  Copyright 2019 by David L. Thornburg

  To friends old and new: David Mullen, Kyle Lee, and Jax Primo, who all helped with this book.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Thank you

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Excerpt from Sooner Fled: Oak Valley Secrets 1

  Excerpt from Sooner Red: Oak Valley Secrets 3

  Chapter 1

  The anxious lump in Lianne Ortega's throat grew as the smuggler's boat got closer. In the darkness of the humid Tulsa night, the distant engine left a wake that trailed behind the powerful motorboat. It moved slowly on the Verdigris River but could reach speeds of 200 mph on the open Arkansas or Mississippi Rivers on its way to or from New Orleans.

  Lianne’s presence there was out of the ordinary for a customs collector in so many ways: the late night, the cargo, and the fact that she was taking a bribe. A big one.

  Unlike the barges that came and went every day at the Port of Catoosa, this shipment was a problem the Tulsa metro area didn't have yet – enough heroin to turn a boutique drug business into a big enterprise with a widespread customer base.

  The $50,000 Ortega expected to receive was for ensuring the dock was clear and the security cameras were aimed elsewhere.

  She stood at the edge of the concrete abutment, under the enormous crane that spanned the river. Behind her the 3-story administration structure was dark.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and went through the steps in her head. There were procedures to follow, even if the operation was illegal. She guided a truck as it backed onto the loading platform. She signaled for it to stop 3 feet from the edge. Safety first.

  She turned to monitor the progress of the boat, then looked downriver. Her eyes drifted to the end of the iron railing that led down sloping grass to the water's edge. She squinted. There were two people sitting on a blanket, fishing. She lifted her binoculars. Two boys, barely teenagers by the look of them. It was clearly posted that fishing was against the law. Why couldn't people just follow the rules?

  "Hey!" she shouted, "you kids down there need to get out of here!"

  She thought they hadn't heard her until one of them gave her the universal symbol to mind her own business.

  She didn't have time to go warn them. The boat thrummed to a stop at the dock, and Paul jumped out and approached her. Paul probably wasn't his real name, but it was the one he gave when he came into Lianne's office a week ago in a tailored business suit and shoes shined to a reflective sheen.

  Now he was in cargo shorts, sandals, and a sweat-drenched tee shirt. A pistol was stuck in the front of his belt. The wild look in his eye was far different than the smooth charm he'd exuded when he talked her into the bribe.

  "Let's get this loaded!" he barked at the men in the truck. The two who were in the boat with him began lifting boxes and setting them up on the dock. He faced Lianne. "Your money is coming..." He looked over her shoulder. "Who is that?" He had seen the boys fishing. He glared at Lianne. "You had one job. Now I've got to take care of it."

  "Wait!" Lianne said.

  "Shut up or you're next," he growled, pulling his gun.

  She reached inside her windbreaker and pulled out her service weapon. She spread her feet and supported her gun wrist with her other hand. "Stop! Police!"

  Everyone on the boat and from the truck pulled out guns and pointed them at her.

  Paul smiled. "Too bad you didn't get your money first. It would have paid for a nice funeral."

  Behind Lianne, the administration center lit up. Searchlights on the roof illuminated the entire dock. A voice over a loudspeaker said, "Police. Drop Your weapons."

  Paul snarled, "You stupid b..."

  Lianne took advantage of the blinding light and kicked the gun from his hand. As he scrambled for it, she sprinted for cover behind a shipping container.

  The smugglers fired toward the lights. The police unleashed a barrage of bullets, and the men from the truck dropped to the ground.

  Paul dashed for the boat. He jumped from the dock, landing in the craft as it roared away. It seemed to barely touch the water as it picked up speed.

  Lianne glanced at the boys on the grass. They were standing, pointing at the boat, and she heard them say "Awesome!" and "Cool!" across the distance.

  A squad of officers was on the concrete dock, securing weapons and checking the truck. Two lone boxes of product sat at the edge where the boat had been.

  "What were you thinking, Ortega?" Her captain was standing next to her.

  "Civilians, sir."

  "We could see the civilians. They were covered. You singlehandedly blew a 6-month operation. We have nothing to show for it. Why didn't you follow the plan?"

  She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came.

  "That's what I thought. Get back to the station. We have so much paperwork to do."

  Chapter 2

  Daniel Minco could see the parked car from a long way away.

  The land in rural Oklahoma was flat. The occasional windmill or oil derrick could be seen, but otherwise it was square miles of waist-high wheat divided by dirt roads.

  Minco edged his cruiser up to the automobile, a 10-year-old Town Car. As he exited his vehicle, he saw a flurry of activity in the front seat. He rested his hand on his holstered gun, but he hadn't drawn it in his 6 months of service and he didn't expect to draw it now.

  The driver side window rolled down as he approached. A tanned, weather-beaten face under a John Deere cap emerged.

  "Mr. Draper," Daniel said. He crouched down to see the passenger. "Mrs. Draper."

  "What can I do for you, Danny? I mean, officer?" Mr. Draper asked. His wife giggled.

  "Everything OK?

  "Just checking the crops." More giggles.

  So that's what the kids are calling it, Daniel thought. "All right." He stood. "You folks have a good day."

  "Give my regards to your mom." The window rolled up.

  On the way back to the patrol car, he saw a dust cloud the next mile section over, moving fast. He got in his car and headed that way.

  As he reached the intersection, a black Trans Am blew through it, raising enough dirt to obscure Daniel's vision. It was the Amos boys. Their family owned one of the biggest farms in the area, and they could raise anything well except kids. More money than sense.

  Daniel turned on the lights and pursued. He gained on them, hitting 80 miles per hour, activating the siren when he got close. The Trans Am locked up its brakes, fishtailing to a stop. Daniel let the dust settle before he got out of the car.

  Billy Amos hopped out of the sports car,
followed by his younger brother, Jimmy. They both wore tight jeans, boots, and long-sleeve snap-up shirts, their cheeks swollen with chewing tobacco.

  "Is that you, Danny Minco?"

  "Officer Minco. Do you know how fast you were going?"

  "I don't think we broke three digits."

  "Very funny. You gentlemen have a seat in your car while I write up the ticket."

  Daniel went back to the cruiser and got out his ticket book. Tickets were a prime source of revenue for the town of Oak Valley. Sheriff Harris preferred they write up out-of-towners who didn't pay attention to the decreased speed limit on the curve going into town, but he didn't feel bad writing up these two; they had plenty of money.

  Halfway through, he looked up to see them staring in his window. He rolled it down. "I told you to stay in your vehicle."

  Billy said, "We just wanted to tell you we saw you in the Class A tournament in Binger when you was a senior."

  Jimmy said, "I was only twelve back then, but our daddy took us."

  "Two touchdown passes and that 90-yard punt return in the last few minutes of the game. Fantastic!"

  "It was great!"

  It happened all the time. "Thanks," Daniel said. "But that was five years ago."

  "Then a football scholarship to Southwestern Oklahoma State! Go Bulldogs!" The brothers fist bumped.

  Billy got a somber look. "Bummer about your knee, man."

  Daniel handed him the ticket. "Yes, it was."

  Downtown Oak Valley was eight square blocks, with the entire business district lining one main street. "Someday, this will all be mine," Daniel said to himself as he parked in front of the Sheriff's office, a store front that used to be Ray's Hardware until a big box store went in at Franklin, the next town, 15 miles over. Sheriff was a slight exaggeration: Harris was a deputy sheriff for Stone County, but no one would dare bring that distinction to his attention.

  He left the keys in the car and entered the building. The air-conditioned blast evaporated all the moisture from his skin. Harris liked it cold; most big men did. In truth, though, Harris had committed to slimming down in preparation for his retirement.

  Eileen was at the front desk reading a magazine, wearing a plain dress and sensible shoes, her grey hair cropped short. She was the dispatcher, office manager, and power behind the throne.

  "That you, Danny?" Harris called from his desk in the back room.

  "Yeah. I wrote the Amos boys another ticket."

  "They're a menace. Come on back here, I want you to meet someone."

  Daniel stepped through the doorway - there was no door -

  and saw a young woman in a freshly starched police uniform of vibrant blue. She stood. Short and slim, her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Her skin was light brown, more than a tan.

  "Daniel Minco, meet our new officer, Lianne Ortega."

  Later that evening, Sheriff Harris opened his front door. "I was expecting you."

  Daniel said, "I'm sorry to bother you at home. Were you eating supper?"

  "If you can call boiled vegetables and skinless chicken supper. Francis is all excited about this diet stuff."

  "Sir, we don't need another police officer."

  Harris closed his door and motioned to the chairs on his porch. Sunset was sucking some of the heat out of the day, and the breeze carried a whiff of honeysuckle.

  "You're right, we don't," Harris said. "But it's out of my hands. The Attorney General called the state Sheriff's Association, and our county sheriff called me. We're stuck with her."

  "But why?"

  "Officially, nobody is saying. Grapevine has it she was involved in a drug bust gone bad. My guess is she needs someplace to cool out until whatever heat she's in goes away. What better place to hide out than here?"

  "But what is she going to do?"

  "Make our lives easier. Especially mine. Look, son, nothing's changed. When I retire, you'll be the new chief. If she's still here, she can get your coffee and type your reports."

  "I guess," Daniel said, but he had a suspicion it might not be that simple.

  Lianne looked around her new cage. "This will do nicely," she managed.

  "I haven't needed it since I got married," Stephanie Stratton said. "Tony and I live in the parsonage. The rental market here in Oak Valley isn't exactly booming, so I'm glad you can use it."

  Lianne thought Stephanie, the local preacher's wife, was pretty, in a corn-fed way, and her Clash tee shirt was sort of cool, but she couldn't imagine how smothering it would be to live in this four-corner burg full time.

  The house wasn't really that bad. A small two-bedroom house at the edge of town, it was a little neglected but she would have it ship shape soon enough.

  Stephanie pressed the key into her hand. "If there's anything you need, you have my number. There's a store downtown for groceries, and a diner and a hamburger place called Burger N Run. I work at the Community Church, so drop by anytime. Oh, and we would love to have you for dinner when you get settled. Let us know."

  "Thanks, I will," Lianne said, but she would rather have a tooth pulled. If this place even had a dentist.

  After Stephanie left, Lianne unpacked her suitcase, hanging up her uniforms carefully in the closet. She supposed she was lucky to still have a job.

  Her lieutenant had been furious. "We were counting on you, Ortega!" He was sitting behind his large desk, she was standing at attention. "What possessed you to go off book?"

  "Civilians, sir..."

  "You think you were the only one to see them? All you had to do was stick to the plan, follow procedure...but no. Now we have two dead guys we can't interrogate and everyone else is gone."

  "Sir, I thought I was exercising the proper discretion."

  "You don't get to exercise anything. We look like idiots in front of the FBI and the DEA. The chief wants your head."

  "Are you firing me?"

  "No, I convinced the chief you were worth salvaging, and it doesn't hurt that being a female Hispanic is a double dipper as far as Human Resources is concerned. You're not fired, but you are being transferred."

  Transferred, exiled, it was all the same to Lianne as she set up her espresso machine in the tiny kitchen.

  Chapter 3

  Daniel felt the disapproval from across the office.

  "Is she still glaring at us?" he quietly asked Sheriff Harris.

  "Yep," Harris whispered. Then, more loudly, "Officer Ortega, are you sure you won't join us for a cup of coffee?"

  "No, thank you. Is there anything I should be doing?"

  "We usually start slow in the mornings, but we did have a call come in last night. Apparently bright lights from Stevenson's place kept Mrs. Baker up all night. You two want to ride out there and see what's up?"

  "Yes, sir," she said. She grabbed the cruiser keys off their hook on the wall by the door. "I'll drive." She was out on the sidewalk in no time.

  "Shotgun," Daniel said to the closed door.

  "Good luck," said Harris.

  The ride north of town was quiet. Minco's questions of "Where were you before this?" and "How do you like your place?" got monosyllabic responses, and his driving directions were followed silently.

  They drove over a cattle guard and pulled up to a run-down single-wide trailer. Lianne briskly walked up the wooden steps and knocked on the door. "Police."

  "He's around back in the greenhouse." Minco led the way.

  The greenhouse was no more than loose sheets of plastic tacked on to a rickety frame made of 2X4s. Inside was a man in his 30s stooped over a line of knee-high plants. He stood as they entered.

  "Danny," he said, brushing the dirt off his hands.

  "Mr. Stevenson."

  Recognition crossed Stevenson's face. "Did she call in again? I'm so sorry."

  "We've talked about this..."

  "These are marijuana plants!" Lianne interrupted. "Mrs. Baker saw his grow lights." She faced Stevenson. "You're under arrest. Turn around and put your hands behind
your back."

  Stevenson looked puzzled, but did as he was told.

  "Whoa, whoa," said Daniel. "Wait a minute here."

  "For what?" Lianne asked.

  "There's no need to overreact..."

  "Last I knew, this was a felony. There's enough here to distribute."

  "Actually, I think this is all for personal use," Daniel said.

  "Yeah," said Stevenson, "I never sell to anybody."

  "You can tell it to the judge," Lianne said. "You have the right to remain silent..."

  Stevenson gave Daniel a pleading look as he was marched to the cruiser.

  Stevenson watched through the cell bars with interest at the drama around the sheriff's desk.

  "You had no right to take over the call like that!" Daniel shouted.

  "He was breaking the law, I arrested him," said Lianne.

  "I should be in charge. I'm the senior officer here."

  Sheriff Harris was covering his ears.

  "Does the senior officer let just anyone commit felonies in his presence?"

  "You can't come in here and change the way we do things just because you don't approve."

  "The law is the law!"

  Harris yelled, "That's enough!" More quietly, "Please sit down."

  They sat. "Miss Ortega, it would behoove you to watch how things are done before you take over. Minco is a good cop." To Daniel, he said, "You need to back your partner's play. In the field, you support each other. If there's disagreement, work it out after the situation is resolved. For better or worse, you two are going to have to learn to work together."

  He drew a short breath. "Maybe I have let things get a little lax..."

  "Sir, your face is red," Daniel said.

  "I don't feel so good."

  He slumped to the desk, then slid out of his chair onto the floor.

  "Sheriff Harris!" Lianne said, kneeling beside him. "Danny, call an ambulance!"

  "The nearest ambulance is 40 miles away. We have to get him to the clinic."

  Lianne unbuttoned his shirt and started CPR.

  Daniel put his arms under the sheriff's shoulders. "Help me lift him to the car!"

  "Hey, what about me?" Stevenson called as they carried Harris out.