Amy Lynn, Into the Fire

by Jack July

  “Except what?”

  “We still have a deputy with circumstantial evidence against Uncle Jack, and I have no idea who killed Stone.”

  “For now we should focus on proving the family’s innocence, not someone else’s guilt. As for the young deputy, are you prepared to deal with that?”

  “I talked to Adele. We’re trying to work it out, but if we can’t, you know, family comes first.”

  Bogus thought about it for a moment. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

  “I need to go to the hospital. The FBI is going to interview Uncle Jack and I want to be there,” said Amy

  “Understood. Maybe I’ll call Adele and we can work on it together.”

  “You know her that well?”

  “Yes, actually I do.”

  A look of horror crossed Amy’s face. “You and her didn’t, ya know, did you?”

  Bogus laughed. “No.”

  “Whew. Okay, good.”

  “What? Do think I traveled across Europe diddling everything I saw?”

  Amy looked at him accusingly. “I’ve heard stories.”

  “Fiction, my dear! Fiction! ...mostly. No matter. I am now yours until the day that I die.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, I’m in love enough to believe you.” They kissed. “I’d better go before I don’t.”

  “I’ll see you this evening.”

  “I love you.”

  “And I you. Take Princeton.”

  Amy’s shoulders dipped. “Yes, dear.”

  When Amy walked out, Bogus picked up the phone and dialed Adele’s office. “Hello, Karen, it’s Bogus.” Adele’s administrative assistant immediately began to giggle. “I was wondering if I could speak to Adele.”

  “For you, I’d get the President.”

  “You are so very sweet. Next time I’m in Washington, maybe we could have lunch?”

  “Oh my God! Yes! Wait, no, your wife would kill us both.”

  “Lunch, my dear, not an affair.”

  “Oh, yeah, um, okay. I’ll get her right away.”

  The phone buzzed three times then Adele answered. “What do you want, you cradle robbing fucking Polack?”

  “It is indeed a pleasure to speak to you, also.”

  “Make it quick, I’m busy.”

  “I was thinking that you and I could take facts as presented, craft a glorious story and make this Congressman Stone issue go away.”

  “Sounds like you already have some ideas.”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “What’s on your mind?”

  Bogus took an amused tone. “I thought you were busy.”

  “Not too busy for my girl.”

  Bogus smiled and shook his head. “What is it about her that makes you go out of your way to protect her?”

  Bogus heard the smirk in her tone as she said, “What is it about her that makes you keep your dick in your pants?”

  Bogus stared at their wedding picture on his desk. “Good point.”

  It took Amy thirty minutes to get to the hospital. She made her way up to Carla Jo’s room. She showed her badge and stepped past the FBI agents. Jack was sitting next to the bed, smiling and gently stroking Carla Jo’s hair. In almost a whisper Amy said, “Hi.”

  Carla Jo looked at her and smiled. Amy walked around to the other side of the bed and kissed her, fighting tears. “We were so scared. Thank you for coming back to us.”

  In a weak voice, Carla Jo replied, “I’m not ready to go yet.”

  The FBI agent stuck his head in the door. “Jack Brown, this is agent Bell. It’s time to go.”

  Jack snapped his head around and softly said, “It’ll be time to go when I say it’s time to go.”

  “No, Mr. Brown. Now.”

  Amy walked around the bed to the door and took a deep calming breath. “Agent Bell, please give us a moment.”

  Bell’s words became even terser. “I don’t know what the CIA is doing here, but you have no jurisdiction. Step aside.”

  The crooked half smile showed on Fenian’s face. “I don’t think you understand who you’re talking to.”

  Agent Bell swept his jacket back with his right arm to reveal his gun. Fenian’s came out like a flash and she pressed the muzzle, hammer back, under his chin. With her left arm she grabbed the knot on his tie and walked him back out of the room. The two other agents in the hall drew their weapons. Deputy Nolan drew his and Princeton pulled the MP5 from under his jacket. Fenian was calm. “Tell your boys to put down their weapons.”

  Agent Bell called out, “Shoot her!”

  Deputy Nolan tried to be calm. “Everyone, please, put down your weapons.”

  Princeton chimed in, leveling his weapon at the agents, “I would do what he says.”

  The nimble steps of the 6’7” 350-pound former Auburn offensive lineman, Sheriff Carter, caught everyone off guard. His giant hand wrapped around the closest FBI agent’s weapon, taking it in one quick snatch. He stepped between Amy and the other agent and snarled, “Boy, put that gun down.” His head swung around at Princeton and Deputy Nolan. “Same goes for y’all.”

  Slowly weapons were lowered. He grabbed Bell by the back of the suit coat, nearly lifting him off his feet, and guided him into Carla Jo’s room. Amy backed up into the room as the sheriff shut the door. Few people had ever seen him upset. He was upset. With the voice of a pissed-off bear he growled, “If ya’ll want to have a gun battle, take it out to the woods. But you will not turn a hospital in my county into Little Big Horn. Is that understood?”

  Agent Bell and Amy nodded. “Good. Now what is going on?”

  Agent Bell responded brusquely, “I have orders to take Jack Brown in for questioning. That, so called, officer pointed a gun at me.” He motioned to Amy.

  The sheriff shook his head. “Well, Agent Bell, I have known her since she was a little girl. I’m sure she would not have done so without good reason.” He turned to look at Amy. “Why did you point a gun at Agent Bell?”

  Amy smiled a cold tight smile. “I didn’t like his attitude.”

  Sheriff Carter put his hands on his hips and let out a half grunt, half sigh. “Not a good reason, Amy.” He looked over at Carla Jo lying in the bed. His face softened and he smiled. “I was coming to see you.”

  Carla Jo let out a soft, “Hi.”

  He walked over to her bedside, leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “Hi. Sorry about all this.”

  She whispered, “Used to it.”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Yeah, well, here’s what’s gonna happen. You,” he pointed at Amy, “are going to take him,” he pointed at Jack, “down to the station. And you,” he pointed at Agent Bell, “are going to follow us down there. We will discuss the situation, and then, let him get back to his wife. Any questions?”

  They all shook their heads no. “Just want ya’ll to know, I’m ashamed of all of you-uns, you hearin’ me?”

  A couple soft, “Yes sirs,” and some head nods later, he directed them out of the room.

  Gene looked back at Carla Jo; she curled a finger at him, motioning him to her side. He leaned his head close as she whispered, “Gene, Sitzberger hit my car, I ran, they blocked the bridge with another car. That’s how it happened.”

  Gene nodded. “We ain’t worried about that right now. You rest.” He gave her another kiss on the forehead and started to leave.

  “Gene?” He turned back. “How many has he killed?”

  Gene looked down at the floor contemplating an answer, then back up. “I’m not sure, but I’ll get him home to ya.”

  Carla Jo gave him a smile and nodded.

  When they exited the front door of the hospital, Agent Bell walked up next to Amy. “Why do I feel like I just got yelled at by my dad?”

  Without looking at him, she replied, “He has that effect on people. That’s why he doesn’t carry a gun. Folks around here would rather have him shoot us than see that look of disappointment.”

  Bell chu
ckled. “Look, I apologize for being harsh.”

  Amy reciprocated, “Yeah, I’m sorry for pointing a gun at you.”

  Bell stopped. Officer…”

  “Zielinski.”

  “Officer Zielinski. I’m trying to do my job. We’re on the same side.”

  Jack walked over and stood beside Amy. She reached into her pocket, grabbed the truck keys and told her Uncle Jack, “Hop in, I’ll be right there.”

  Jack gave Bell a quick look into his eyes, then turned and walked away. Bell felt a shiver. “That is the most terrifying man I have ever met.”

  Amy nodded. “Mm hm. Do you know who he is?”

  “James Caroll Brown, friends call him Jack. Known in the ‘community’ as Hatchet Jack. Navy SEAL assigned to work for CIA Director Colby, Operation Phoenix, Vietnam. Yeah, I know.”

  Amy let her guard down a bit. “Look, Agent Bell, he didn’t kill Congressman Stone.”

  “We know that.”

  She crossed her arms, tilted her head and gave him a look of disbelief. “Then why in the hell are you bothering him?”

  “Because there are two people missing he may know something about.”

  “Do you have any evidence of that?” She watched his face carefully and he refused to answer. “That would be, no.”

  “We want him to take a polygraph.”

  Amy looked a little surprised, “A polygraph? Really? Knowing what you know about him, you have to know that would be useless.”

  “Look, Officer Zielinski, I know what goes on. I grew up in a small town in LA.” She knew that meant, Lower Alabama. “Just let us investigate and get the hell out of here.”

  Sheriff Carter walked up on them and smiled. “Well, I see ya’ll have made up; that’s a good thing. Now let’s go.”

  Amy turned and walked away. She climbed into the truck and Jack handed her the keys. She started the engine, backed out of the space, and put it in drive.

  Jack Brown had been through both sides of debrief and interrogation more times than he could count. There is only one rule. Shut The Fuck Up. This means don’t volunteer anything, yes or no answers to the most basic of questions. If the question becomes complicated, your attorney should drill the question down to its most basic form. Even then, there are questions you don’t answer. Agent Bell did the perfunctory interview knowing full well what the outcome would be. Amy sat in the corner watching, arms crossed over her pregnant belly while she learned a few things.

  Three hours after it began, it was over. Agent Bell thanked Jack for coming, picked up his folder and notes and turned to Amy. “It’s been suggested to me that we interview your entire family.”

  “Agent Bell, what is it that you wish to accomplish?”

  “Find the truth and close this case.”

  “Okay, give me 24 hours. Let me look around and talk to the people. You know they won’t talk to you. But some just can’t wait to talk to me. People like to look smart, informed, you get the mind-set.”

  “I do. Okay, I gotta catch up with my paperwork. Come see me tomorrow and show me what you got. We’ll compare notes.”

  “Works for me. Thank you, Agent Bell.”

  As she walked back to her truck, her phone rang. It was Adele. “Hey honey, got the verdict on Milt Keifer.”

  Amy felt her chest get tight. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

  Chapter 47

  To get to Skeeter’s house, Amy had to drive behind a church and around a cemetery. The tiny house used to belong to the preacher back in the fifties. As the church grew, so did the status of the preacher who, through donations, was able to move into a bigger house. When Milt’s daddy left them, the congregation recommended moving Milt and his mother into the house. Milt took care of the church grounds in exchange for rent. When Milt’s mother passed, he continued to live there. Some in the congregation grumbled, but Brother Taylor III liked having a police officer close and the grounds taken care of for free. When Amy pulled into the driveway, Skeeter was in the shed, working on the lawnmower.

  He heard the truck and walked out of the shed. Amy gave him a smile. “Hey, Skeeter.”

  “Amy. Whatcha need?”

  “Enjoyin’ your day off?”

  “I reckon. Congratulations on your baby.”

  “Thanks, we’re excited about it. Skeeter, I need ya to take a ride with me.”

  “Where we goin’?”

  “Gonna have a talk with some people.”

  “’Bout what?”

  “You’ll find out when we get there.”

  “This about your Uncle Jack?”

  “Indirectly.”

  “I’m busy; you need to talk to the sheriff.”

  She took her ID out of her pocket. “I ain’t askin’.”

  “CIA, huh?”

  “Yep, and that information is classified.”

  “And if I don’t go with ya?”

  “Then I’ll have the sheriff order you to go.”

  He stood still, thinking. “How long we gonna be?”

  “Couple hours.”

  “Let me go in and get cleaned up.”

  “I’ll be waitin’.”

  Fifteen minutes later they were on the road. Amy broke the ice by talking about people they both knew in school, teachers, and small town gossip. They shared a few laughs. Skeeter said something that made Amy smile. “You know, when we were in school I had a crush on you.”

  Amy laughed. “Really? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

  “You were seein’ that Andy Evans, then ya’ll broke up. Next thing I know, you went into the military. ’Sides, I didn’t have nothin’ to offer.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not true, you had plenty to offer; you were sweet.”

  “You really knew who I was?”

  “Sure did. You were smart. I liked the smart boys. Smart boys turn into smart men. They can take care of a family and feed babies. You’re a smart man, Milt Keifer. You could have a future. You just need to understand a few things.”

  He felt the conversation shift. “What do ya mean?”

  He saw and felt her grow cold. “I mean, what’s legal ain’t always right, and what’s right ain’t always legal.”

  “We talkin’ about your Uncle Jack?”

  “We’re talkin’ about life. Yours.”

  “Jack Brown killed those men, didn’t he?”

  “Skeeter, someone very wise, long ago, told me something that stuck with me. They said, ‘It’s best you never know the truth; that way you never have to tell a lie.’”

  Amy turned off the state road and stopped, put her truck in four-wheel drive and continued down a dirt road deep into the woods. Skeeter started getting a little nervous. He realized he didn’t have a gun. He ran his hand next to his pocket and felt for his knife. In a little different voice than Skeeter had been hearing, Amy said, “I’d leave that knife in your pocket if I were you.”

  Skeeter saw Amy’s gun in her left hand. He never saw her take it out. With a tinge of fear in his voice, Skeeter asked, “What in the hell is goin’ on here?”

  “Well, Skeeter, in a few minutes you’re gonna have to make a choice. That choice will decide your future. I suggest you choose wisely.”

  Amy stopped next to an old hunting shack. A wisp of smoke rose out of the chimney. “Get out,” she commanded.

  He opened the door and slid out. He thought about running but she had already made her way to his side of the truck. She wasn’t holding the gun. She motioned her head toward the shack. “Go knock on that door.”

  With trepidation he approached the shack and knocked. A man in hunting camo opened the door. “You must be Milt Keifer.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Come on in and take a seat.”

  Amy followed them in. They sat on folding chairs around an old wooden table.

  Amy smiled at him and nodded. “Frank.”

  Frank smiled back. “Amy.”

  “See any deer yet?”

  “No, but they’re ou
t here.”

  “Skeeter looked back and forth between them. “Okay, um, what’s goin’ on?”

  Frank looked over at Amy. “He doesn’t know?”

  Amy shook her head.

  “Oh. Well, Mr. Keifer, my name is Frank Barton. I am a recruiter for the FBI. I would like to congratulate you on receiving the J. Edgar Hoover Scholarship award.”

  Skeeter’s mouth opened. After a pause he said, “What? But I didn’t apply for any scholarship.”

  “That’s because you can’t. You are nominated for it. Officer Zielinski recommended you, and you were chosen from a group of deserving law enforcement officers from all across the nation.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well sir, just sign this paper and take an oath. You will be flown to D.C . tomorrow for orientation. You will be sent to college—probably Georgetown—to finish your undergrad. Then you will be enrolled in Law School. After you graduate you’ll be sent to Quantico, Virginia, where you will train to be an FBI Agent. Tuition, books, room and board all covered, along with a stipend and meals. Congratulations, Mr. Keifer. You have hit the big time.”

  Skeeter was still in shock. “Wow. I don’t know, wow.”

  Amy got up. “Would you excuse us Frank? We need to talk for a second.”

  Skeeter followed Amy outside. They stepped to the far side of the truck. Amy faced him, gun in hand. “Here’s your choice. You will be a great agent someday. You can help thousands of people. Change lives, while being one of the finest law enforcement officers America has to offer. If you want to do that, you need to forget everything you think you know about Jack Brown.”

  He nodded slowly then stopped. “What if I don’t?”

  She bluffed. There was no way she could kill him now, after introducing him to Frank. But he didn’t know that. She pulled the hammer back on the .40 cal. “You don’t leave these woods alive.”

  Bogus looked at the notes on his desk. The speakerphone was on with Adele on the other end. He said, “This all seems rather simplistic. Can’t we throw a mistress or a jealous wife in there somewhere?”

  “Nah, Occam’s Razor. I’ll have my people insert some E-mails and hand-written notes. The FBI has dozens of boxes of that stuff; I’m sure we can put together something.”