“That’s not good enough, Dad. I have a right to know.”
“What you have a right to know is the Stones have done a lot of good with their money. They’ll continue to. It doesn’t matter why they give it.”
“You’re wrong, Dad. Is it blood money? Guilt? Trying to buy redemption? It’s like money laundering.”
Lianne saw Frank’s brow knit slightly, and a light flush come to his cheeks. He was getting angry, but he didn’t want to show it.
“It’s a gift, Son. That’s all.”
“If I’m so curious, you know Murray and Sonia are, too. Trust me, they’ll find out what they want to know.”
“They’re going to be your partners, Bronson. Be careful how you talk about them.” He stood. “Here’s how today will go. The ceremony will take place as scheduled, and I will speak at it. Thank you for your concerns, Officer Ortega, but I’ll be fine. The Stones don’t leave anything to chance. Afterwards, Son, I’d appreciate it if you would come home with me. Your mother misses you.”
Bronson looked at the floor.
Frank said, “Now where is Mayor Gray’s office? We’ve exchanged e-mails, and I’d like to meet him.”
“He owns the car dealership at the end of Main Street,” Lianne said.
Bronson rose from his chair. “I’ll take him.”
They left the station and got into the back seat of the Town Car.
As they pulled away, Lianne said, “I hope they can keep their family together.”
Eileen said, “Thanksgiving may be awkward this year.”
Chapter 32
Daniel sat up in bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept this late. Failing so spectacularly really took it out of a man.
He’d never been much of a drinker, even in college, but this felt like what he imagined the worst hangover in the world would be like. His head throbbed and he was nauseous. He wanted to go back to bed but knew he wouldn’t feel any better there. The old injury in his leg pulsed like it was conducting electricity.
He reached for his phone to see the time – 9:30 – ten missed calls, all from Patsy’s Place.
He considered texting the info to Lianne and letting her deal with it. She was the entirety of the Oak Valley police force, after all. But he’d told Patsy to call him, so he dialed.
“Danny? Officer Minco? Thank God!”
“What is it, Patsy?”
“He’s back. The agent. He’s angry that you were in his room.”
The fog cleared a little. “When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. Not here.”
His thinking was razor sharp now. Devose knew they had the newspaper clipping that tied him to Charlie Dibble’s murder. He probably assumed that Lianne knew about it as well, and that they’d enlist Sherry Threefeathers’ expertise.
They were all in danger.
“Thanks, Patsy. I think you’re safe. You don’t have what he wants anymore. Just to be sure, you might get out of town for a few days.”
“I can’t. We’ve got more business than we’ve had in years with people in for the dedication.”
Devose looked at his phone. It was the call he expected.
“Yeah?”
“You have something that belongs to me.”
It was Sonia’s voice.
“You can have it back. You have my terms.”
“$20 million dollars is a lot of money.”
“You must not have finished reading it, or you wouldn’t quibble.”
A long pause. “We’ll be back in Dallas tonight. Bring it to the office and we’ll make the exchange.”
“I don’t think so, young lady. You see, if we can’t come to an understanding, today is the perfect opportunity to tell the world what I know about the Stone family.”
“And what is that, exactly?”
“It’ll cost you $20 million to find out.”
“We’re going straight to the ceremony. That hardly seems like a good place for a transaction like this.”
“It’s perfect for me. Nice and public. Not near as dangerous for me as your home turf.”
A pause. She was weighing options. “Where do you suggest?”
He’d thought about it. “The parlor of Stone Mansion.”
She snorted. “That spider palace?”
“You’ve been in it before, you and your brother. I know. Be there alone at 11:30 and be ready to transfer the funds to the account I give you.”
She sighed. “You win.”
Daniel had turned in his service weapon at the station last night, but this was rural Oklahoma so there was no lack of guns in his house. He slipped a 45 he got from his dad into his jacket pocket. Since the accident, his dad didn’t have any use for it. From the gun safe in the utility room, he selected a Winchester 70 that he’d used to bag several deer, usually with Sheriff Harris by his side.
He grabbed a box of shells and turned to find Reverend Stratton in the doorway.
“What’s going on, Daniel?”
“Lianne and Sherry may be in trouble. Maybe everyone at the dedication.”
“Sounds like a police matter. Have you called anyone?”
“There’s no time.”
“You can’t do this. You’ve been relieved. And if you’ll allow me a non-clerical turn of phrase, you look like hell.”
Daniel looked down at the rifle in his hands. “I guess you’re right. Did you have any luck with your contacts at the OSBI?”
“Yeah. I have a message from Agent Long right here.” He reached into his pants pocket.
Daniel brought the butt of the gun up hard under Stratton’s chin, then hit him in the side of the head.
Stratton crumpled to the ground like his legs had snapped. He wasn’t entirely unconscious, and Daniel thought that in a fair fight the reverend could have taken him, but this was no time for fairness.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled as he stepped over the moaning man. He hoped events would allow him to apologize more later, but he wasn’t sure if they would.
Chapter 33
Where did all these people come from? Lianne asked herself.
She stood at the base of the platform constructed that morning that extended the front porch of the Stone Mansion. In the 50 yards between her and Stone Lake were hundreds of people, many with lawn chairs but most standing. In the distance was an ambulance and several police vehicles from surrounding towns. They’d approached Lianne to see where she wanted them. It felt good to be the officer in charge.
She saw the gate to the construction equipment was unlocked and open, with state highway workers arriving sporadically. Caleb stood outside his pickup, leaning against it with his arms crossed.
To her immediate left was a row of folding chairs for the honored guests. There was one for the mayor, though he was up glad-handing the crowd. Three more for Murray Stone, Sonia, and her husband Rudy. Two for the homegrown musical artists - country music stars grew like apples on a tree in this state. And of course one for Frank Blake.
Bronson appeared beside her. “Do you expect any trouble from them?” He indicated the Native Americans along the north edge of the ceremony grounds.
“Sherry’s with them,” she answered. “They don’t believe us that nothing was found yesterday. They suspect a cover-up, but I think they’ll be OK.”
She looked up at Bronson. “How are you and your father, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t agree with him on much, but he’s brave to continue with his speech.”
“So are you ready to take over the family business?”
“I don’t think I can. I can’t do what he does.”
“What will you do, then?”
“I have no idea. I’ll let you get back to work.”
She checked her watch as he left. 11:15. Go time in 45 minutes. If this went without a hitch, maybe it would impress someone enough to let her be a real police officer agai
n, in a real city.
Daniel lay flat on a hill behind the mansion. From his vantage point he could see Lianne and, to his right, Sherry.
He watched as a limousine approached the front of the house, looking out of place on the dusty road. A driver exited and opened the back door. Out stepped the Stone contingent: Murray, Sonia, and Rudy. They greeted Frank Blake, who was already in his seat.
Movement at the back of the house caught his eye. He saw Agent Devose, carrying a satchel, mount the porch and disappear into the back door. What was he planning? Was he the one who threated Reverend Blake? Was it a play to get the clipping back somehow?
With another glance at the thickening crowd, he eased down the hill to the house. He wished he had taken the time to put his knee brace on. Climbing up the back steps was like a knife repeatedly stabbing his leg.
Before he entered the door, he stood his rifle against the wall. Whatever happened inside would be pistol work.
Devose passed through the rotting kitchen to the parlor. He’d chosen the room because he remembered it from shadowing those spoiled brats when old man Jerome went to Oklahoma City to talk to Blake. He also remembered how he was summarily dismissed from those visits, not allowed at the grown-up table. “Run along and keep an eye on the kids,” Jerome Stone said more than once.
He knew the room’s position at the back of the house would obscure it from the view of the crowd but still be public enough to keep that whelp Sonia from trying anything unexpected.
He surveyed the room. The once lush drapes were in tatters, letting shards of light illuminate the gloom. The matching chairs and couch were moth-eaten and decaying. End tables lay on their sides and a suffocating layer of dust covered everything.
He moved to the wall opposite the door and mice scurried out of his way. He heard the crunch of insects crunching underfoot. Beetles or roaches? He didn’t want to know. He backed into a shadowy corner where he could see everything. He reached into his satchel, brushing past the journal, and verified his gun was still there. Worst case scenario.
After a few moments, he heard a shuffling noise and saw a figure come into the room. It was limping and too tall to be Sonia.
“Devose?”
The man stepped into the room and slid sideways along the wall, briefly passing through a ray of light from the window. It was that blasted hick cop. What was his name? Minco.
At first he thought Minco was going to spoil everything, but then he reconsidered. He wasn’t wearing his uniform. And he knew where the newspaper clipping was. Maybe this was his chance to tie it all up in pretty little bow.
He started to call out but then someone else entered the room. Not cagey like the cop, he walked into the center and shouted, “Devose? You here?”
It was Rudy Hale, Sonia’s husband. He was dressed like someone had hit him with a Brooks Brothers catalogue, and he wore a vaguely feminine long, tan cashmere overcoat. He carried a laptop computer with him.
The cop wasn’t moving.
Devose hated to be the first one to make a move, but he felt sure he could handle the wimp and a gimped-up cop. He walked away from the wall and into the light.
“Did you bring the money?”
“There you are. You startled me. Yeah, I’m ready to transfer. You bring the diary?”
“Don’t be stupid. Fire up the computer and let’s do this.”
Hale turned his back to him – what an idiot – and set one of the end tables upright. He placed the laptop on it and opened the cover.
“I expected Sonia. She’s the tough one.”
Hale smirked. “Yes, but she doesn’t like to do the dirty work. I’ve made so many trips to this cursed backwater I never want to see it again.”
“Stop jabbering.” Then his curiosity got the better of him. “What were you doing here?”
“The usual. Killing newspaper editors, blowing up motels, and so on. For some reason it’s important to Sonia to keep some family secrets buried so I did what had to be done.”
“And the sheriff?”
“Him, too. You know what he knew. He was a loose cannon. This the right account number?”
Devose moved closer to the screen, his cell phone open with his account number on it. “No, you’ve got the first two numbers transposed. I would’ve thought she would come to me.”
Hale tapped the keys. “She probably would have, but I took some initiative, which no one ever expects of me. It’s good to be underestimated. And Sonia doesn’t ask too many questions if things are going her way. How’s that?”
Devose glanced at the computer screen then his phone. “Yeah, that’s it. Send it…”
He was looking into a rifle barrel.
Chapter 34
Lianne’s watch said 11:59. The Reverend Frank Blake climbed the stairs.
Of the hundreds of people there, Lianne was focused on the ones who weren’t. Tony Stratton for one. She could see Stephanie. When she caught her eye and raised her eyebrows, the reverend’s wife shrugged her shoulders.
And Rudy Hale was missing in action, but Sonia didn’t seem worried.
And where was Daniel? She’d thought surely he would be there, if not to support her then at least for the spectacle.
Two loud thumps caused her to jump, but it was only Blake tapping the microphone to see if it was on. The sound system had been appropriated from the high school gym.
“Brothers and Sisters, let us pray.” The speakers shrieked like Jimi Hendrix on a bad day, sending the cacophonous sound rolling down the prairie.
When it subsided, he continued. “Heavenly Father, we thank you for such a beautiful day…”
Daniel saw the rifle as soon as Rudy pulled it from his coat. It was his rifle, the one he left outside on the back porch.
“That was a boneheaded play, boy,” he heard Sheriff Harris say in his mind. “You didn’t help anything. You just made it worse. Maybe you don’t deserve to be the sheriff after all.”
“That’s what happens when you try to do too much,” his father said. “Just lay down and stop struggling so hard. Let everyone else do the work. It’ll be OK.”
“Stop!” he yelled, charging at Rudy. The minutes of inactivity caused his knee to lock up, so it was more of a lurch. He saw Rudy swing around and squeeze off a shot before he could reach him.
His leg seemed to burst into flame from the inside and he collapsed to the floor. From his tilted perspective, Rudy seemed to be standing on the wall. Past him, Daniel saw Devose pull a pistol out of his satchel, but Rudy was too fast. The rifle bullet struck Devose in the chest, the momentum causing him to fall back into a once luxurious divan, the cloud of dust already beginning to cling to the spreading blood.
Rudy dropped the empty rifle and kicked it against the wall. He took the satchel Devose was still holding and lifted the leather-bound book from it. He then retrieved his laptop and noticed Daniel watching him through eyes wincing with pain.
Daniel reached into his belt and pulled out his own pistol, but it was like he was submerged in molasses. Rudy reached down and took the gun from his hand with no trouble.
“You just have a leg wound,” Rudy said. “You might make it out of here before the charges go off. I don’t know what’s in this book, but I find it hard to believe people had to die for it.”
He stood, then turned back to Daniel. “A little something to remember me by.” He stepped on the bullet wound in Daniel’s leg. The pain was almost greater than Daniel’s ability to sense it, then dark oblivion washed over him.
Lianne heard the shots, but the prayer kept going. She jumped up on the platform and pushed Blake down to the floor and laid on top of him.
The crowd heard the shots over the speakers, and half seemed to be trying to get away while the other half pushed closer.
Bronson appeared and knelt beside them. “Dad, are you all right?”
“Get him out of here.” Lianne had to yell to be heard.
Bronson helped Frank to his feet, and they made their way
to the cars in a crouching run.
Lianne saw the other VIPs were also getting to safety. She turned on her heels and faced the mansion. She lept over the gap between the platform and the porch and hugged the wall beside the front doors, her weapon drawn.
“Police! Come out with your hands up.”
No response. The officer from Franklin peered over the edge of the platform, two other policemen flanking him. She made a circle with her forefinger, indicating they go around back. They disappeared from view.
She pushed a door open and slid inside, following her gun. In all her time on the Tulsa police force, the only time she’d drawn her weapon in the line of duty was on the dock at the Port of Catoosa. She had received good grades in the classroom simulations, though.
From outside she heard Mayor Gray over the loudspeaker, urging the crowd closer to lake.
She moved through the living room and paused at the bottom of the stairs. If the shooter was up there, it was unlikely she would get the drop on them with the noise her steps would make. She mounted the first step, wincing as it creaked.
“In here.” She heard a whisper from a downstairs room toward the kitchen. Maintaining her cover, she entered a sitting room.
A man in a black suit was dead on a couch, blood covering his white shirt. Against the wall, lying on the floor, she saw another figure trying to get up.
“Danny!” she said, rushing to him.
“Rudy Hale,” he said weakly. “Out the back.”
“We’ll get him.” She scanned him for injuries and saw his leg was bleeding from a flesh wound, but nothing else. She grabbed her radio. “We need the ambulance, now! Officer down. Situation is secure.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” Daniel said, trying to sit up but failing.
The EMTs were there in a few minutes. They cleaned Daniel’s wound. As they wrapped it, Lianne indicated the dead body. “Isn’t that…”
Sooner Dead Page 11