Illegal Contact

by Becky Harmon

  “Great! Here’s your connection to it all. The Mountain Militia supplies a farmers market outside of Atlanta which happens to be where the Atlanta Wildcats football team purchases their fruits and vegetables.”

  “What?” three women said together.

  “Several years ago this particular farmers market was involved in a DEA sting operation.”

  “What were they selling? Pot?” Jamison asked.

  “Among other things,” Todd continued. “This market was popular for the sale of organic fruits and vegetables but the DEA had discovered synthetic steroids being sold as well.”

  Sheldon rolled her eyes. “So let me see if I got this right. The Atlanta Wildcats are purchasing from a market that sells anabolic steroids?”

  “Not only the Atlanta Wildcats but their beloved coach, Skip Mason, who pushed the issue and brokered the exclusive contract with this market,” Todd explained. “And the contract expires this year.”

  “Skip Mason is being recruited to coach in the NFL,” Heather reminded them.

  “Yes, he is and he’d probably broker another deal with his NFL team and the market, especially if he’s picked up by a team on the east coast.” Todd lowered his voice. “And rumor has it, Mason needs one more National Championship title to secure his NFL recruitment since he’s so young.”

  “He would be the youngest NFL head coach ever,” Heather added.

  Jamison rubbed her face. “Are we saying Skip Mason could be behind this?”

  Sheldon shook her head. “Not necessarily. Clayton Thomas and the Mountain Militia stand to lose a lot of money if Skip Mason is unable to broker another contract with their distributor.”

  “Todd, do we have anything substantial to prosecute any of this?” Jamison asked.

  “Not today.”

  “Okay.” Jamison looked at Heather and Sheldon. “Let’s hang everything that happened today on Sullivan and see if he wants to pass the buck.”

  “Thanks, Todd, for the information. Can you get us the reports from the DEA sting operation? I’d like to know the outcome,” Heather requested.

  Sheldon then dialed Wallace who had disappeared after turning Sullivan over to them. After a several minute conversation she hung up. “Wallace got our two vendor boys to ID Sullivan so we can tie him to the explosives. He’s getting a Federal warrant to search Sullivan’s residence—which happens to be the militia’s compound.”

  Jamison sighed. “You’ll only be searching for explosives though, right? This won’t include steroids or anything connecting them to Skip Mason.”

  Sheldon nodded. “Right. All we’re working with right now are the explosive devices left in the stadium and anything from earlier in the week. We should hear back soon if the explosives are all from the same batch.”

  Jamison looked at Heather. “Don’t they test college athletes for anabolic steroids?”

  “Yes, but if they’re using organically grown items to boost the steroids that are naturally in your body it wouldn’t show up on the testing.”

  “So technically they aren’t doing anything illegal then?” Sheldon asked.

  “I’m not an expert on this but my thought would be no, it’s not illegal but they aren’t going to get the same dramatic results either.”

  “But it still gives them an edge,” Sheldon stated as she stood. “Let’s go see if Sullivan’s public defender has arrived yet.”

  * * *

  Shea softly closed the door to the spare bedroom at Mel and Nikki’s house and climbed into bed. When she’d finally gotten a moment alone to text Jamison, she could have cried at the dead battery on her phone. She couldn’t even get the damn thing to power up. The stupidest part was that she didn’t even have Jamison’s number to call her from another phone. She knew Mel and probably even Nikki had Jamison’s number but as badly as she wanted to talk with Jamison she couldn’t bring herself to ask them. She knew she’d see Jamison in the morning.

  Even so, she might ask Nikki to borrow her cell phone in the morning. She crossed her arms behind her head, knowing sleep would be slow without her connection to Jamison. She replayed the last twelve hours in her mind. The ins and outs of the ballgame and then her fear hiding in the closet while Jamison exchanged gunshots with the shooter. She still wondered if Jamison had killed him or not. Not that it mattered. She had known Jamison would do whatever was necessary to keep her safe. She missed the comfort of having her nearby.

  * * *

  “We’re headed for Mexican food. Want to join us?” Heather asked Jamison as they climbed into the car.

  Sullivan’s attorney had arrived but Sullivan still refused to talk. Probably on his recommendation. Sheldon explained a couple things to him about how his prosecution was going to go and which charges she had him nailed on. He’d tried not to look concerned but Jamison, watching through the glass, had seen a few stutters in his facial expressions. Special Agent Wallace was pushing full force into the Mountain Militia and it looked like his search warrant was going to be approved. Sheldon asked him to call her when it was a go so she could accompany him and he had agreed.

  Jamison checked her phone and was surprised to see Shea had not responded to her earlier text. It had been over an hour since she had sent it. She dialed Shea’s number. If Shea was ready to be picked up, she was certainly willing. She didn’t want to go back to her empty apartment. Immediately Shea’s voice mail kicked in telling Jamison she was on the other line or her phone was turned off. She quelled her first instinct to panic knowing Shea was with Mel and Nikki. Maybe she’d turned off her phone to get some much-needed sleep. She could call Mel but Shea would be safe at Mel’s so she should leave her alone for the night. She’d see her in the morning.

  “So?” Sheldon glanced over the seat when Jamison pulled the phone from her ear.

  “Yeah, sure. I’m starving.”

  “Your girl not answering?”

  Jamison shrugged. “She’s with her sister and her partner. Both are Flagler agents so I know she’s safe. I’m not worried.”

  “No, you don’t sound worried,” Sheldon said sarcastically.

  * * *

  Jamison winced at the emptiness in her apartment. She was trying hard not to let Shea’s silence occupy too much of her concentration. Dinner with Sheldon and Heather had been a recap of the entire case and they all agreed something was missing. McGomery was behind bars and would stay there for a while. Charges for stalking, breaking and entering and possession of explosives would ensure he didn’t get time served when his case finally went to trial. Scooter and his vendor pal would spend some time in jail for their stupidity but none of the other arrests from the game had panned out to be involved in this case. Sullivan was looking at the most time at this point. He had finally admitted he solicited Scooter to plant the explosives but claimed he never planned to detonate them. What he had planned wasn’t something he or his lawyer were willing to share. If there was a connection to Skip Mason it probably wouldn’t be easy to find. Sheldon was already talking about forming a task force and it could take months to develop any leads.

  She typed the last line on her incident report and sent it to Bowden. An agent-involved shooting was a big deal, but with Heather’s report it shouldn’t even require an investigation. Bowden had already informed her that she would be seeing a shrink before returning to duty. Nothing she didn’t expect. She hadn’t planned to kill the man but she had been willing to do whatever it took to keep Shea safe and she would again, if this wasn’t over.

  She dropped fully clothed onto the couch. Lifting her arms above her head she stretched from end to end. She closed her eyes and willed sleep to come. Sheldon had agreed to allow Jamison and Heather to accompany her when they searched the compound and she could call at any minute. Jamison wasn’t sure Shea would be open to continued protection but she was going to suggest it. At least until the championship game was over in two weeks.

  Her phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket. Sheldon.

  “We
decided to head toward Atlanta. It’s pretty solid we’re going to get the search warrant, they’re just ironing out the details. Can you be ready in twenty?”

  “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  Jamison tossed her phone on the table and headed for the bedroom. She took a quick shower, dressed in her black cargo pants, long-sleeved T-shirt and boots. Securing her backup pistol in the holster at her waist, she stepped out of her building foyer as Sheldon pulled to the curb. Jamison slid into the backseat of the black Dodge Charger and Sheldon roared away from the curb.

  “I thought the FBI drove black sedans and SUVs with tinted windows?” Jamison asked as she lay down on the seat.

  “Normally, yes,” Sheldon answered, ignoring Jamison’s taunting. “Tonight I thought we needed something with a little more speed.”

  “You might want to buckle your seat belt. Her foot has been stuck to the gas pedal since she climbed behind the wheel,” Heather teased.

  Sheldon took the ramp onto Interstate 10 with tires squealing.

  “Honestly, Sheldon. Do you even know where the brake pedal is?” Heather asked.

  “I do,” Sheldon said with a laugh. “Want me to show you?”

  “You’ll roll Jamison onto the floor.”

  “And she won’t be happy,” Jamison added from the backseat.

  Sheldon laughed and then she turned serious. “You guys are armed, right?”

  “Of course. Is that a problem?” Jamison sat up, centering herself between the two front seats.

  Heather nodded too.

  “Not a problem. I just like to know who can back me up in a pinch.”

  Jamison lay back down. “Wake me when we get there.” She closed her eyes and tuned out the conversation from the front seat. She liked Heather and Sheldon’s banter. They seemed to have developed a friendship during their first trip to Atlanta, she thought as she drifted into sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Hey Sleeping Beauty.” Jamison felt a tap on her shoulder. She rolled toward the front of the car seat and looked up at Heather.

  “We’re about an hour away from the compound. The search warrant is about twenty minutes behind us so we’re stopping for food. Want something?”

  “Cheeseburger?” Jamison was surprised at the words that rolled off her tongue. She never ate cheeseburgers and especially not at fast-food locations but tonight that’s what she craved. “With french fries and a Coke.”

  Sheldon slowed the car and pulled into the drive-thru lane. She ordered three combo meals and Heather passed around the food as Sheldon handed it to her. Pulling back onto the interstate, Sheldon maintained the speed limit.

  “What happened to Mario Andretti?” Jamison asked as she bit into her cheeseburger. It was warm and juicy and flavorful, not at all what she was expecting.

  Heather laughed. “I think she burned out about an hour ago.”

  “We’re waiting for Wallace and the search warrant to catch up,” Sheldon answered.

  “Oh, right. Do we have a plan?” Jamison mumbled around her mouthful of fries. It felt like days instead of hours since she had eaten nachos at the Mexican restaurant.

  “Sheldon convinced Wallace to go in soft and see where it gets us,” Heather answered.

  Sheldon swallowed her mouthful of food. “If they’re trying so hard to be law abiding, then they aren’t going to fire at the first car that pulls up. There’s Wallace now.”

  The three women watched another black Charger fly past them and Sheldon slammed her foot on the accelerator to follow. Sheldon’s phone rang and she pressed the button on her steering wheel to connect to the car’s Bluetooth.

  “You have Krews and Cannon with you, right?” Wallace asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You guys have FBI permission to make arrests or search anything included in the warrant.”

  Jamison raised her eyebrows at Heather and said softly, “Nice.”

  Wallace continued, “I could only get twelve agents not counting SWAT so everybody counts. SWAT will wait outside the compound unless we need them. If soft doesn’t work we’ll only have ten more bodies and from the size of this place we might be stretched thin. The numbers on Sullivan’s address match a huge warehouse, not a house or cabin, so that’s what we get to search. Unless we find something, then the judge will expand the search.” They could hear paper rustling as Wallace pulled out the search warrant and read exactly what items they could search. “So, basically, any location you could hide explosives or anything related to explosives.”

  Sheldon nodded. “That’s pretty wide.”

  “Yes, we’re going to turn this warehouse upside down.” He paused as his vehicle turned off onto a dirt road and pulled to the side. “Take lead, Sheldon. Show me how this soft touch works.”

  “You got it.” Punching the accelerator, she disconnected the call. “Here we go.”

  Everyone was silent as Sheldon maneuvered slowly along the dark road. Jamison looked out the rear window and could see two black SUVs following Wallace’s Charger. Jamison watched as they passed only trees on both sides of the road. Sheldon slowed to a stop in front of a large metal gate stretching the width of the road. The area was lit only from the quarter moon in the sky above them. Sheldon’s headlights shone on a large white sign with red letters announcing they were entering private property. No trespassers allowed.

  Jamison opened her door and quietly pulled her pistol from its holster, holding it beside her leg as Heather climbed out to open the gate. Jamison walked through the gate, scanning the area around them. Nothing but trees stretched as far as she could see. She was surprised there was no one from the militia watching the gate. Sheldon pulled their vehicle through and stopped as Wallace’s car pulled alongside them with his window open.

  “Let’s keep a nice gap between vehicles.” Jamison heard Wallace call between the open windows. “I’m feeling a little claustrophobic.”

  Sheldon nodded. “Probably a good idea.”

  “Call me before you check in with them at the next gate so I can listen to your conversation.”

  “Okay.”

  Jamison glanced around again at the forest surrounding them. She agreed with Wallace. The road was plenty wide for two vehicles to pass but with the trees so close on both sides it felt smaller in the darkness. She was relieved when Heather returned to the vehicle and they began moving again.

  A mile down the road they came to another metal gate, this one patrolled by several men dressed in camouflage clothing and boots. The dusk to dawn lights lining both sides of the road gave the impression of daylight. As they approached, Sheldon dialed Wallace and left the Bluetooth open.

  “Watch right and I’ll watch left,” Jamison said softly into Heather’s ear as they pulled to a stop.

  The young man who approached the vehicle did not carry a rifle or have a pistol strapped to his waist but both men on the other side of the gate did.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” he asked as he leaned toward the window, his young face barely showing signs of razor stubble. He moved his eyes quickly around the car, assessing each of the occupants.

  “We have a search warrant for the warehouse.”

  He nodded as if expecting them. “Please wait a moment.”

  He returned to the gate and spoke to his fellow militiamen. Pulling a radio from his waist, he spoke into it and then returned to Sheldon’s car.

  “Please follow Adam.” He motioned toward a black Jeep that had pulled into the road in front of them. “He’ll take you to the split in the road and Mr. Thomas will meet you there.”

  Sheldon nodded. “Thank you.”

  The guard on the other side of the gate opened it to allow them access and Sheldon pulled slowly through. Jamison watched as each of their trail vehicles followed before the gate closed behind them.

  Everyone was silent as they followed the Jeep deeper into the woods. As they neared the intersection, Jamison could see a large lit up area through the trees to her right,
which she assumed was the warehouse, and a hint of the compound to her left. What she could see of the compound reminded her of Girl Scout camp. A large central building surrounded by floodlights and a speckling of smaller cabins. A campfire burned away from the buildings and Jamison could see the silhouettes of ten or so men standing around it.

  Another Jeep approached from the compound and their previous guide turned and headed back to the gate. A hand emerged from the open passenger window of the new Jeep and motioned for them to follow. They turned right, moving away from the compound, and within seconds a large clearing emerged. The warehouse was covered with metal siding in a range of woodland colors that blended into the forest around them. Several floodlights pointed at the main entrance where two large rollup doors stood open.

  Jamison could see a large open area with floor-to-ceiling stacked crates—and that wasn’t even a fourth of the building. A solid door in the wall to the right led into the main warehouse. A tall, thin man, with perfectly styled gray hair, climbed from the passenger side of the Jeep and casually strolled toward Sheldon’s vehicle. He was dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt and did not appear to have been awakened at this early hour.

  “Good evening, ladies. I’m Clayton Thomas.” His voice was smooth and he did not appear to be surprised or worried about their appearance.

  He stuck out his hand to Sheldon as she climbed out of the vehicle and then to Heather and Jamison as they joined her. Once Sheldon identified herself as FBI, Jamison followed Heather’s lead and went only with a first name.

  “I understand you have a search warrant for my warehouse? Can I ask why?”

  Jamison watched his face as Sheldon spoke.

  “Robert Sullivan claims this address as his residence. He was arrested and has admitted to attempting to plant explosives at the Tallahassee Tigers game yesterday. We’re searching for the location he used to assemble the explosive devices or any pieces used for the assembly. Were you aware of any of this, Mr. Thomas?” Sheldon rattled off the information like it had been rehearsed.