by Brad Cooper
After temporary, underpaid, and unappealing jobs in variety of fields, none of which grew into an actual career, the possibility of working in law enforcement in a town with the crime rate of a ghost town in the Old West looked like a breeze. Now clean-shaven with close-cropped hair, and no more of the earrings or piercings that he looked back upon with a grimace and a groan, he often thought back to the days in his teens and early twenties and lamented his lack of effort and concern.
Nevertheless, Ray Kessler believed himself to be fortunate, all things considered. No longer was he an awkward social outcast, trying in vain to secure his place in the world that could never understood who he was at heart. He now lived and worked as a public servant, in a position that commanded authority and respect but existed to assist and protect the society in which he now considered himself to be playing a functional role. Neither the schedule nor the job itself was ideal but there were plenty of ways to make a living that involved more difficult work and less free time to be spent doing as he pleased. The benefits package didn’t hurt either. The job at the gas station hadn’t offered health insurance.
Walking into the chief’s office, Kessler stopped and stood beside the seat opposite the desk while Sparks sat in his customary spot, the high-backed chair behind his large oak desk. The chair was larger and clearly more comfortable but it was the characteristic that went largely unnoticed that was most intriguing. The chief’s chair always sat three or four inches higher than the one he was facing. It was an interesting bit of psychology despite being an entirely unconscious observation. It was an intentionally simple show of power aimed at anyone who happened to drop by for a chat with the man in charge.
“Ray, uh, maybe we should talk. Shut the door and have a seat,” Sparks said in his trademark booming voice as Kessler sat. It was the voice that he projected when he was completely serious and needed the other half of the conversation to understand that very fact. “Over the last several weeks we’ve had the chance to get involved with a few things and, uh, it could be pretty big for us.”
Kessler shut the door and sat back down. “Pretty big, huh? What’s going on anyway? What’s this whole chopper deal? I know nobody in this town can afford that kinda thing.”
Sparks folded his arms and said, “So, Ray, it’s a deal for the Tochigis, or with the Tochigis. Depends on how you look at it. They’re a little paranoid about doing this kind of business and asked if we’d provide a little security. Stuff’s coming in from out of town. Hush-hush and all that. We’re just watching out for ‘em, that’s all.”
“Okay, I understand that, but at night? Why don’t they do this stuff during the day? Wouldn’t it be easier?” Kessler asked as he crossed his legs. He failed to comprehend the details.
“Not really. Look, Ray, it’s complicated.”
Kessler spoke abruptly. “What’s so complicated? Is there something you’re not telling me, Darrell?” The deputy’s legs started to shift and move with nervous energy.
“Yeah. Yeah, Ray, there is,” Sparks said, beginning to fidget in his seat himself. “I reckon, uh, it deals with what’s coming in on those deliveries. It’s from a relative or family friend or something like that. That’s where it’s coming from and all.”
“Alright. Whatever. Doesn’t tell me what’s on there.”
“They brought in five loads and they were, well, you know…”
“They were what, Chief? Loads of what?”
Sparks scratched his forehead and pondered how to continue. “Listen, Ray. You like having money?”
“Well, yeah, of course. Everybody does. You know? I ain’t got enough but I like having what I got. What’s that got to do with anything?”
Glaring into Kessler’s eyes and smiling, Sparks lowered his voice and said, “Think about it, Ray. We’re going to be paid for providing that security. Isn’t that right? Little extra money never hurts. Ray this is more than that. This is early retirement kind of money here. Investments, a new car, maybe a little hunting cabin or something like that.” The full-time police chief was doing his best to be a part-time salesman.
“I’m not following you, Chief. We’ve never had anything ‘round here that brings in that kind of money. I mean we’ve done pretty good before but never something that…”
“They’re running drugs, Ray,” Sparks said, cutting Kessler off mid-sentence, having lost the patience to beat around the bush any longer. The statement hung in the air for several seconds, neither man ready to speak after the words had been spoken in such a blunt manner. Sparks caught himself speaking louder than intended and calmed himself. He knew that his wording was far too blunt and certainly inappropriate. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, concerned that the truth had just been revealed too quickly and to a person best left in the dark.
“Drugs, Darrell? You mean like…”
The chief lowered his voice to a whisper. “Yeah, I know, but it’s a way for us to get out of this way of life and be comfortable for a change. I know you get aggravated and so do the rest of us and…”
Ray neglected to match the change in volume. “We’re the police for God’s sake! Don’t you know what this means? We’re breaking the law here. I can’t believe this! We are breaking the law. We’re not stopping this, we’re helping it? You have to explain this to me because I just don’t, I don’t, this is just…” Kessler was standing again pacing around the chief’s office, struggling to gather himself sufficiently to speak. He started to storm out the door but stopped when his boss leapt to his feet and closed the door.
“Would you just sit down, Ray? Let me run through this with you. Okay? Come on, park it. Now,” said Sparks, pointing with authority to the chair formerly occupied by Ray Kessler.
Sparks’ mind was racing. What am I doing, Sparks asked himself. It’s already out of control. I’ve already told him too much. We have to involve him now but what next? Will he go for it? He had some convincing to do once he returned to his seat.
As he spoke the pitch of his voice grew higher. “Do you realize what you’re doing, Chief? I mean, this is huge, boss. Are all the other guys are in on this?” Kessler began rocking back and forth in his chair.
“Would you at least let me explain, Ray? Just shut up for a minute and you might learn something.” The chief let out a groan and ran a hand through his hair, wondering how to continue. “Drugs are a problem. Pretty big problem. Right? They’re coming in here regardless. We can’t stop it. These people got it coming in on airplanes, got the illegal wetbacks running it across the border down in Texas and California and Miami and everywhere else. You can get on the computer and have every kind of pills shipped to your house from God knows where; Pakistan, Afghanistan, and all the rest of the ‘-stans’ over there. Even back in the sticks you got guys in trailers cooking up crystal meth and robbing drug stores for the prescription stuff. It doesn’t matter. It’s here and it’s staying here. We can agree on that, can’t we?”
“Yeah, it’s here. I know that. What’s your point, Darrell? It’s not like Spring Creek is overrun with drug smugglers, gang bangers, and whores. Why are we inviting all this in here? Not having that element here is what keeps people around.” Still rocking back and forth, Kessler sat with his arms folded and glared into the eyes of the man who was trying to rationalize something that was completely irrational.
“It’s already here, Ray. It’s been here for years. Maybe not a ton of it but it’s been here. Kids been smoking pot at parties since I was a kid and times don’t change that much.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what, Ray? But what? But it’s our job to stop this. Isn’t that it? ‘To protect and serve’ and all that baloney? You know what I’ve learned after giving half my life to this job? It’s not all black and white. We live in the gray. Yeah, that’s what we’re supposed to do and we do it but what’s it gotten us? Nothin’. That’s what. This is a chance for us to get what we deserve, and maybe something a little extra. Okay? That’s all. If it’s coming in here a
nyway and we can’t stop it all, may as well horn in on it a little and make some scratch. It won’t make a difference anyhow, one way or another.”
“I don’t know, Chief. This is some serious…”
“Do you think we’d actually do this without thinking it through? Just how stupid do you think we are? Me, Frank, Carl, we’re tired of this life. Same thing every day and nothing changes. We just want a little more in life before we all keel over and die. That ain’t asking much.”
“But what if somebody finds out, Darrell? Seriously, that’s big time jail time, man. You’re putting everything and everyone on the line for a little more money? Make me understand.”
Sparks shook his head defiantly and said, “Who’s gonna find this stuff out? We’re the only game in town. The counties are never ‘round here, except to pluck some speeders from the speed traps, and those tickets should be giving our town money. That’s the only time they’re around here. You know that.”
“Screw the counties. What about the troopers? State cops are hardcore, they’re serious, they’re by the book, and they’re everywhere, Darrell.”
“We’ve considered all that and measures have been taken.” Sparks relaxed back into his chair, confident that he was slowly getting his point across.
“Measures? What measures? What? You got a spy at the State Police running around like a mole and watching people?”
“More or less, we do. You know Ron Aliff, don’t you?”
“Sure. I’ve seen him around before. You mean…”
“Let’s just say he’s on our team. See what I mean? This isn’t just some pissant nothing deal. This is big. So whaddaya think, Ray?”
“And you’re saying nobody’s gonna get hurt with all this?”
“Hey, what these idiots that buy the stuff do after they get it isn’t…”
“That’s not what I meant, Darrell. Just tell me there ain’t gonna be people coming in, guns blazing, bringing a lot more problems in here than we can handle.”
“It’s not happening, Ray. Just going to provide some security and make some money. No more. You’re paranoid as a lab monkey.”
“Alright then. I suppose I’m with you boys. Just fill me in on what I have to do and all that,” the timorous officer said. “I just don’t see everybody coming out without a scratch.”
“Will do.” Sparks leaned closer to Kessler and said softly, “Hey, not a word of this to Robbins. You hear? He’s new to the job and we both know he ain’t ready for something like this.”
“Okay, boss.”
“Get on out there now.”
Kessler got up and walked out of the office. You better believe he’s in, Sparks thought. He knows everything. He has no choice. Of course, the pie is split in another direction and everyone’s piece just got a little smaller, which will not be welcome news to the others. It was a small price to pay for another potential problem out of the way. With the next delivery arriving in a week, give or take a day or two, everyone had to play their roles to perfection and make certain that Kessler didn’t blow it before it starts.
“Ken’ichi, may we expect a great number of sales here?” Hotaka asked of his son, finally speaking privately about the new arrangement for the family.
“Yes, father, the kids here are very curious. They become bored easily. They love trying new things,” Ken’ichi replied. His English was much more fluid than his father’s. Unlike Hotaka, Ken had spent his entire life in America, which meant his English was much more Americanized than that of his parents, who still used the proper, choppy English that they learned prior to their relocation.
“Excellent. Remember, Ken’ichi, you must be careful. We must not be taken in.”
“Yes, I know, father. We won’t get busted.” He chuckled at his father’s unusual and awkward terminology.
“Very well. We will speak more on this matter tomorrow,” Hotaka said, directing his family from the living room.
The next delivery was four days away and, after a week had gone by, Yoshiro would expect a preliminary report on sales and what kind of potential surrounded the area. Was there much money to be made here? He would want to know that, among other things. Hotaka wondered how high up all of this truly went. It certainly did not begin nor end with Yoshiro Sato. It went beyond him, perhaps outside of the United States. Could the Yakuza be playing a role in this? Had their operations now fully reached American soil? If so, there was no turning back. It was not an option. Regardless, they would do their best. He, his wife, and Ken’ichi would not disappoint Yoshiro Sato. They were but one link in a chain but even one failing link is enough to stop the motion altogether.
That kind of negative thought could not be tolerated now. It was useless. If need be, they would expand operations beyond Spring Creek and into the nearby region. If the needed number of users was not to be found here, they would be close by. It was a matter of locating them. Hotaka thought to himself once more, just as a reminder.
Yoshiro Sato would not be disappointed.
CHAPTER
5
“I sure hope you’re man enough to own up to that bet, Big D. Didja see who’s in the points lead? Huh?” Frank Amick said, baiting his boss and waiting for the desired reaction with an impudent grin.
“Put a lid on it, Frank. We got a long way to go. I wouldn’t have made the bet if I wasn’t confident about it. I shouldn’t have made the bet at all ‘cause I should’ve known you wouldn’t shut up about it. Of course, you flap your gums nonstop about just about everything so why would this be any different? Still a long way to go, so don’t shoot your load too quick,” Sparks said with a chuckle.
“If you weren’t my boss, I’d never talk to you, Darrell.”
“I wouldn’t call your company time well spent neither, Frank. Anything goin’ on in our little town today?” Sparks asked and took a sip of his coffee.
“Lord, no. Same crap as always. Carl got in his usual place right past the gas station and trapped a speeder. Said he had to be going fifteen over so he nailed him. Had another one come through but he didn’t give her a ticket, just a warning. Carl’d let one off for murder if she’s showing enough skin. It’s no wonder he loves summer. The clothes come off and that boy goes nuts.”
“Ain’t that the truth? Least it wasn’t a guy.”
A knock came at the door and Carl Lilly stuck his head into the doorway.
“Chief, a call just came in and we need to respond to it,” Lilly said, the concern heavy in his raspy voice.
“Carl, you got the call so respond to it. It’s not a complicated concept, son. You’ve been doing this a while.” Ridiculing Carl had developed into a sport for Sparks and Amick.
Lilly opened his eyes wide and stared at Sparks. “Chief, I think we better get up there. Me, you, and Frank. Let Robbins watch the place. Ain’t nothing else going on anyway.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll grab Kessler and we’ll go. Where’s it at?” Sparks asked, already grabbing his hat and searching the desk for his keys.
“Out on Sherman Road at Larry Wyatt’s place. Why would you bring…”
“He needs to be there. Alright? I’ll explain later. Let’s go,” Sparks said, heading out the door.
Sparks and Amick were the first to arrive on the scene at the end of Sherman Road, followed shortly thereafter by Lilly and Kessler in the other cruiser. Sparks made certain to gain control of the scene immediately, especially considering the circumstances surrounding this new case that could bring severe difficulties for their operation. The home at the end of Sherman Road was owned by Larry and Diana Wyatt, two more of the lifelong Spring Creek residents.
The house had been constructed in the late 1930s, when Spring Creek was still one of the many coal towns that once littered southern West Virginia, and was especially large for its time. Sitting in the center of a two-acre lot, the residence was the essence of serenity. The nearest neighbor was not near at all. In fact, the distance to the next home was not even a comfortable walk away. Spark
s stood on the concrete porch and leaned against a pillar.
Upon entering the Wyatt home, the reason for being there was clarified within seconds. The front door entered the family room but the rest of the house was easily accessible from there. To the left was a medium-sized kitchen with a center island, tile flooring, and solid oak cabinets which led into a fully decorated but rarely used dining room. To the right, after passing by the stairway which led to the upstairs, was the primary bathroom which was now designated as the scene of interest. Lying on the cold tile floor of the bathroom was the body of seventeen-year-old Thomas Wyatt.
It had been more than twenty minutes since the initial phone call and Diana Wyatt had not yet calmed herself to any degree. She remained on the front lawn, crying hysterically into her husband’s shoulder, watching as the EMTs made their way into the house. At forty-four years old, Diana Wyatt was finally starting to accept the fact that her son was almost fully grown. It would only be a few years, she often told herself, and others, before she would add grandmother to her list of titles.
She had seen it many times in her mind’s eye. The grandchildren running through the house full of energy, buying them numerous toys with which they could annoy their parents when taken home, babysitting while Mom and Dad were at work. She had seen it all and yet it was all on hold again. Their daughter was only nine years old, which meant grandparenthood was likely at least ten years away and that thought increased her pain. There were questions to be answered but this was a time to grieve.
Thomas Wyatt had been dead for an indeterminate number of hours when his body was found at 8 AM. His cold body lay crumpled on the tile floor with blood dried under his nose, showing no signs of struggle and no visible trauma. His eyes remained open, his face still showing the shock of his final moments of life, a slightly opened mouth still trying to cry out the secrets of the final seconds that would remain with him alone. Sparks and Amick were first to the body with Carl Lilly and Ray Kessler close behind. In their years of law enforcement, Darrell Sparks and Frank Amick had encountered dead bodies more than a few times. Some had been as a result of accidents, automobile or otherwise, some of natural causes, a handful due to foul play. Regardless, it was not a new experience. It was a sad but inevitable part of the job.