by Harper, Chap
In a matter of months, Spider had put together a network of businesses easily capable of bringing in a few million a year and would expand exponentially with little work on her part. The drug dealers came to Mt. Ida to pick up the product or it was delivered to them on fake UPS trucks. The dark net was used for most of the large dealer drug sales, the automatic weapons sales, and the call girl payments, which ranged between $1,000 and $10,000. All these transactions were hidden behind encryption so cleverly done the code couldn’t be broken and was rewritten weekly.
Spider felt good about her accomplishments, yet loneliness plagued her. Even though her husband cheated, she missed being married. He got himself shot to pieces forcing his crime syndicate into another crime family’s territory. When the marriage was good, it was very good. Angel was proud of their son, Frankie. He was a handsome, smart, and athletic young man. There was little doubt he accounted for the total sum of good she had done in her life.
She had recently received a phone call from Nick Martorana, who was her high school boyfriend until she went off to college. The big issue in their relationship was a lack of real family ties between the Matrangas and Martoranas. Nick’s dad was an attorney and represented several families in the New Orleans area but didn’t have his foot in the crime business. He was clean and so was Nicky, as Angel called him. He married and had a daughter, Gina, who was one year younger than Frankie and attended the same private school. At fourteen she looked much older and was tall and drop-dead gorgeous. Frankie certainly noticed her, but at fifteen he was still a little awkward around girls. Nick’s wife passed away from ovarian cancer two years ago. Angel sent him a card as Nicky did for her when Richie was killed. He was going to be in New York while Angel was there for Frankie’s birthday and wanted to have dinner with them one night. Now a successful attorney, Nicky was following in his dad’s footsteps. It would be the four of them at Tavern on the Green in the city. Nick knew that Angel came every year for the birthday event and planned ahead to see her. He also had liked being married and missed it as well.
While Lester was enrolling in online courses during the day, Debi was trying to explain to her mother how Lester couldn’t leave her at the dock in Paradis and took her along to protect her. Her mother wasn’t happy and kept saying, “Lester promised not to take you on gunfights.” It sounded so ridiculous—even funny—for a policeman to promise not to take his girlfriend anywhere gunfire might erupt, but soon Lester would face Susan Green again and groveling was not out of the question. Roses would not do the trick this time. Debi was her only daughter and Susan wanted her protected from bullets buzzing by her head. It had happened twice within a few-week period. Debi told her mom patients were waiting and went back to work.
Lester was back at his desk at the office having enrolled in every course listed in the catalogue in front of him. Also piled on his desk were applications for scholarship and federal Pell grants. Lester had no trouble reading them or filling them out. He was enjoying the process and his new ability to master all forms and applications. While he was in the middle of the paperwork, Mike Adams welcomed him back, then asked if the applications had anything to do with police work.
“Uh, Sheriff, most of these courses are criminal justice-related. Isn’t there money available for college courses for members of the department?” Lester asked.
“Yeah, I think so. Ask the clerk. You talked to Jim today?”
“No, but I will soon. Oh, do you mind if I take the sergeant exam this week? I know it’s normally given only at certain times, but I’m asking for the special circumstance exception listed on page 2, paragraph 4.”
“We’ll see. Let me check with the clerk,” Mike said and wandered off towards his office. Lester thought Mike might have been a little intimidated by his newfound skills.
“What have you done to Sheriff Adams? He seems a little flustered,” Peggy said, standing next to Lester and making sure her hip was pressed against his body.
“Uh—not sure. Maybe he’s not used to me reading. It makes it a little harder to bullshit me. Did you find the rules on special exam exceptions?”
“Indeed I did. It clearly states those officers unable to take the exam at normal intervals because of sickness or injury can request make-up exams at any time. Your interview and oral exam was done last time. You passed, and I doubt they will repeat it. A proctor must be present during the entire exam. By the way, Lester, I am an official proctor,” Peggy said in a sexy voice.
“Does it mean you and I will be locked in a room together for hours and hours?” Lester asked with a crooked smile. He wondered why he instinctively had to flirt, even when he knew it would get him in trouble.
“Of course, dear. We haven’t had fun together in a while. I’ve missed you. Are you ready?” Peggy wasn’t flirting—she was trolling.
“Peggy, we had fun, and I still like you, but it ain’t going to happen again. You know I’m involved, and I guess, as pretty as you are, you are, too. I’d appreciate you finding me a space for the exam. Please.”
“Come with me, baby.” Peggy had Lester follow her to an interrogation room with windows. “You’re right, I do have a boyfriend, but we can keep secrets,” she said, just stabbing at the air.
She led him to a table and chair.
“You’re allowed three hours for the exam.”
He had taken it before but basically had sat looking at the exam for three hours since he couldn’t read any of it. Neither Sheriff Adams nor the two previous sheriffs would allow it to be given orally. Peggy went to retrieve the exam and asked if he wanted any water. She returned very quickly with the exam, a bottle of water, and a couple sharpened pencils. She placed a digital clock with a timer on the table. She looked at Lester, smiled, and wacked the clock with her hand, starting the three-hour timer. The pretty proctor sat behind a two-way glass mirror and began reading a book, and on occasion she would look at him and blow a kiss.
Lester looked at the second hand on the timer move and started turning pages of the test. He had practiced all the way to New Orleans and back, every night before the trip, and while he was there. He found if he looked the center of the page he could read lines—then pages in seconds. He retained everything he read, even the serial number of the test. In sixteen minutes, Lester hit the button on the clock and stopped. He folded the test and tapped on the window where Peggy was half asleep. Puzzled, she hurried into the room, her eyes wide as she focused on the paper in his hand.
“Did you give up?”
“Nope! I’m finished. Didn’t miss any. Whenever Mike will let me, I’ll take the lieutenant exam. I’m ready. Do you know if any slots for sergeant are open?”
Peggy rushed the exam to Mike, who graded it with her help. No one had ever aced it, and no one had ever completed it in sixteen minutes. But after the two graders finished, Lester held both records. Mike had no choice but to promote him as of the first of the next month since there was a slot open. He could have asked him to go through the interview part of the exam again, but Lester had always passed that part with flying colors. Mike Adams was happy for Lester, but he realized Lester could be a formidable opponent in the next sheriff’s race. The sheriff knew that Lester couldn’t take the lieutenant exam until he served as a sergeant for a period of time. Lester didn’t care as other goals required his attention. He made a call to Debi.
“Debi, say hi to Sergeant McFarlin.” Lester was pleased that this simple challenge had been completed.
“Oh, my God! You did it. It was one of our goals. I’m so happy for you. Was it hard? What did you score?” She was very excited.
“Made a hundred and finished in sixteen minutes,” Lester said, bragging a little.
“Holy shit! My god! You’re like a machine,” Debi said, a little apprehensively.
“No, baby, I’m just me. The same guy you sleep with every night and the same guy who loves you so much he shares his gunfights with you. I’ve just removed a plug in my brain. Too much info sometimes—care
to know the serial number on the test?” Lester laughed, and Debi joined him.
“Oh, your dad called me and wants all of us to go fishing this weekend,” Debi said.
“Yeah, sounds like fun. Think your mother will throw me overboard?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Immediately after calling Debi, Lester dialed Jim Webb to catch him up.
“Hey, Jim. I guess you heard about the excitement in New Orleans?”
“Lester, you guys are lucky to be alive. But you did some great work. The ATF guys are monitoring everything in Tony’s office and the gun range. They haven’t opened any secret vault yet, but guys are on it 24/7. You take the exam yet?”
“Yeah, passed it and will be promoted to sergeant first of the month.”
“Way to go! What’s next for you?”
“Correspondence courses first for a BA and then LSAT test for law school. What’s going on with Spider and Stick?” Lester asked.
“We learned from an S.G. informant Spider’s leaving in a couple days to visit her son in New York. Guns are moving almost daily from the bait store, picked up by fake UPS trucks. Put two explosives in Stick’s tree stand. He found one. Other one looks like a tree branch, still in place. We have the location on ten call girls and will have the rest in a couple of weeks,” Jim said.
“What about S.G. Crystals? Are the mikes working?” Lester asked.
“The one you put in the radiation house is working great. They discuss making and shipping the crap. Helps us track everything they do. The one you put under the conveyer belt picks up a little, but the middle of the warehouse is pretty quiet. You do realize, Lester, that everything we get from those devices is illegal, and all records will have to be destroyed. Glad we have them, though,” Jim said.
“So the master plan?”
“Once we locate the big vault in New Orleans and see if they have a pattern for opening it, we’ll plan our full raid while the illegal weapons are exposed. The bait store, S.G., and the call girls will all happen at once. What we dread is the S.G. raid. Lots of automatic weapons and workers. I’m guessing it will all go down within the next two weeks. Lots of man hours in this, Lester,” Jim said, realizing the deputy’s tenacity of following up on a domestic shooting had uncovered a sleeping crime giant. Lester snuck around until he found enough evidence to take to his skeptical boss.
“How about Stick? Tailing him?”
“Yes, he goes from the bait store, to the massage parlor, and back to S.G. He’s Spider’s right-hand man. Spends a lot of time at her condo, but never spends the night. Slam—bam—thank you ma’am,” Jim said. “Also, he has these call girls come by every few days at his place, and I bet it’s for free, without Spider’s knowledge.”
“She wouldn’t be happy. I’m glad you have a tail on him because I get the impression he follows us on occasion,” Lester said.
“He does, but we’re behind him or around close by,” Jim said. “I think Spider wants to know what you’re up to.”
“We’re going fishing with my dad on Saturday, and I’d appreciate it if you watch him because we’ll be in the middle of Lake Ouachita, like sitting ducks.”
I don’t think he’ll be gunning for you, but ya never know. I’ll double up on Saturday,” Jim said.
“What’s Jake been doing in Mount Ida?” Lester asked.
“His crew does some surveillance around S.G. Crystal and even though it’s in Garland County, he keeps an eye on the bait store,” Jim said. “Oh, I forgot. Sheriff Jake caught one of the employees with drugs on a traffic stop near Pencil Bluff. In exchange for not sending him to jail, he agreed to be an inside informant. He planted a legal video device that covers the whole warehouse floor yesterday. We actually got a warrant directly from a judge who hand-wrote it, so no other employee of the courthouse knows. We’ve seen the stairs to the underground facility. Also, you were right about the vents covered by tool boxes. Got everything on film. Bad thing—as I said before, they got tons of automatic weapons.” Jim then hung up as he had another call.
Lester called Debi and asked if she would like to meet him for dinner. “You pick the place, dear, and don’t say you don’t care where,” Lester said, having been in this scenario before.
“Ok, it’s Monday and a lot of places are closed. How about Fisherman’s Wharf? It’s close to our place.” It was really Lester’s place, as Debi hadn’t stayed in her apartment in weeks. The apartment was now girlified, with sexy panties and bras in the top drawer of his dresser, his jockey shorts and socks relegated to a lowly bottom drawer.
“That’s fine wid me. What time do you want to meet?” Lester asked.
“Five-thirtyish?”
“Otay—Buckwheat be dere,” Lester said. He waited for Debi to call him racist, but she didn’t.
They arrived at almost the same time and were seated promptly since it wasn’t busy. After ordering, they talked about the fishing trip and then Debi’s growing business. Lester had a question.
“Debi, if I were to go to law school at say Harvard or Yale, could you start your practice out there? At this time, it’s just speculation, but I’m shooting for that possibility.”
“Of course I could, but most likely I’d partner with an existing clinic. When do we go, sweetie?” Debi said, laughing.
“Hopefully, next fall semester. You see, all I need is to complete two years of college in six months, take the LSAT and get accepted to an Ivy League college. Oh, and find a shit pot of money. Should be a breeze. I want you with me wherever I go. Just asking if you’re flexible. I mean—I know you are flexible in bed—but concerning your profession?” Lester said, smiling.
“I am Miss Flexible! Any way you want to flex me!”
“Good. I can quit worrying about going to law school for three or four years by myself.”
“Four years? Are you considering a Master’s in taxation or something?”
“Probably criminal law. Don’t know where, though. Yale is rated the best, Harvard second, and Stanford is the third-ranked school and the best for climate. Debi, we’re southern people and Connecticut and Cambridge would have us both cussing the winters. A scholarship is a must at all of these since they all cost about fifty thousand a year. Of course, a small house in Palo Alto would be close to a million. Your brother in Walnut Creek maybe could rent us out a bedroom?” Lester was rambling, but Debi understood that he wanted to build his life around her.
“He’s out of the hospital and going through rehab now. Slated to go back to work in a week or so. I’m sure Ray and Sasha would love to have built-in babysitters, but that’s a tough commute across the bay from Walnut Creek. If your classes were in off-peak hours, then maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. Maybe we could get Dad to buy a fixer-upper for an investment. He has about ten rent houses now. His parents always had them,” Debi said.
“I’m guessing he would have to sell all ten of them to get a shack on the peninsula in the bay area, but we’ll deal with that later. Let’s talk about the fishing trip. Dad wants to meet us for breakfast at Mountain Harbor at seven and then head out. He will go catch some shad for bait before he meets with us. He’ll do everything for them on the trip—from baiting their hooks to cleaning the fish. He asked me to take care of the drinks and snacks. Maybe we can go shopping together on Friday and get everything we need?”
“So, are we picking up my parents a little before six Saturday morning?”
“Yes. That will give your mother plenty of time to chew my ass out all the way to the boat dock.”
“She will be swift and deadly. I’ll try to protect you, but there’s only so much I can do.”
“Thanks, but at least say you’ll attend my graveside services.”
“If the weather is nice.”
Their food arrived, and Lester immediately became quiet in thought. He took a sweet potato fry and doused it with powdered sugar from a plastic container on his plate. Maybe he would go on the offense with Susan Green, act tough and say he had to keep Debi c
lose. Maybe he would just take his ass-chewing like a man or bring up law school. Law school could be his savior.
Sam Reed sat in his Chalmette Cleaning Service van at a small strip shopping center a block from the Louisiana Sportsman’s Super Store. At two in the morning, he was alone serving a shift for the Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms Agency. He attacked the boredom as he played a game of Plants vs. Zombies on his iPad. Surrounded by spying equipment, he sat by himself behind blacked-out windows, primed and ready for anything transmitted from the store. Lester and his confederates had done a great job planting the tiny spy cameras. This wasn’t his first night on duty, so loneliness and tedium were the only things he expected.
He was about to take a sip of coffee when he noticed lights and people walking down the center of the practice range at the rear of the store. He was fairly sure Tony and Nicco were leading the assembly of employees moving toward the back of the gun range. Somewhere behind the stacks of sandbags, Nicco reached over and pulled open a panel door, exposing a bright green keyless entry board. He placed his open hand against the emerald-colored light, and huge concrete doors began to open inward; fluorescent bulbs flickered and lit the interior. Sam had seen enough.
“Captain Campanella, sorry to wake you, but you’re the coordinator for this operation. This is Sam Reed in the surveillance van; they just opened the secret door!” Sam said, excitedly.
“No problem, Sam. Just tape everything as I’m sure you’re doing. What you’ll probably see next will be the weapons pulled out and packed for shipment. A UPS truck will appear at the back dock. It’ll be fake—with a fake driver. The door will close and legitimacy will reign again for Tony and his sons. Note the time the doors open and close. What I think is, they use the same time every week so that employees don’t have to be paid overtime every few days. Great work. I’ll notify the whole team.” Hank was now wide awake and plotting to possibly take this whole thing down in both states at the same time next week. He knew Spider would be out of town for a few days but would be back on Sunday, if his sources from Jim were correct. Jim Webb would supervise the Arkansas raids. The New Orleans officers would need to know the location of all the fake UPS trucks to take them down. He wouldn’t wake Jim or Lester now. There would be plenty of time later in the day to start planning from the top down without letting anything leak out. Most didn’t have a need to know—yet.