“No,” the FBI agent insisted. “You handed her over to us at four-fifteen, we interviewed her for approximately an hour, and then took her to a safe house.”
“The Renaissance Hotel in Asheville,” I said.
“How did you know that?”
“She called her insurance agent, Archie Donovan. She’s getting the death benefit and the cash values out of some insurance policies.”
“Not if she murdered her husband,” Lindsay said sharply.
“And your evidence to charge her?” Tommy Lee asked.
“From what Barry says, we’ve got her fingers all over the Staples Sources bank account, whether she wired out the money or not.”
Tommy Lee shook his head, a fruitless gesture in front of a speakerphone. “She can say she thought the checks were all part of her husband’s businesses. He signed them, she deposited them. She had no idea he was doing anything illegal. And she has an alibi for when the funds were transferred.”
I thought of another argument. “If Janet was guilty, why let me discover the ledger book in the car? That’s what her attorney will profess.”
“But we know it was to take you off the case,” Lindsay said. “You have your killer and your investigation is closed. The gun and ledger tie him to the murders.”
Something began gnawing at the back of my brain. “Who told her we were investigating food stamp fraud?”
“What do you mean?” Tommy Lee asked.
“Yesterday, when we spoke with her in her living room, she said, ‘Something like this food scam thing.’ It was when she thought we might be accusing her husband of a crime. We hadn’t mentioned it, but Brookshire looked uncomfortable as hell when she said it.”
Tommy Lee drummed his fingers on the table. “When did Brookshire leave the scene?”
“He left around four-thirty,” Lindsay said. “I pulled him aside, told him I knew about the affair, and that we would be handling protection for Janet. We argued and he left in a huff.”
“I guess we were with the techs in the carport,” I said. “I don’t remember him going.”
“That gave him twenty-five minutes to either use his smartphone or access a computer,” Lindsay said. “If he and Janet are not only lovers but also conspirators, then he could have had all the passcodes and account numbers to facilitate the wire transfer.”
“What do you suggest for a next step?” Tommy Lee asked her.
“Do Janet and Luther know we know about the bank accounts?”
Tommy Lee looked at me.
“I haven’t told them.”
“Then let’s do nothing about the accounts,” Lindsay said. “I’ll put a tail on Luther Brookshire and we’ll give Janet freedom to use her phone and move about. I’ll even tell Brookshire he can start the process for putting her back in WITSEC. We’ll see if they start communicating with one another.”
We heard someone call Lindsay’s name.
“Hold a second,” she said, and she muted her phone.
“That’s not a bad plan,” Tommy Lee whispered. “If Brookshire is involved, he’ll want those store owners to get rid of any records of the fraudulent payments so there’s no way to match the master ledger. We might not be able to tie him to Sinclair’s murder, but some of those store owners might be able to identify him.”
The speakerphone clicked on.
“I’ve just gotten results in from Quantico,” Lindsay said. “I’ll fax the report, but here’s the basic information.”
I grabbed a pencil and my legal pad.
“The ballistics test confirms the gun matches the one used in the murders of Sonny McKay and Rufus Taylor. However, the bullets retrieved from Robert Sinclair’s body are from a nine millimeter.”
“What about prints on the gun?” I asked.
“They match Robert Sinclair’s. However the lab tech added a note. The preponderance of the prints are from the left hand.”
“Do we know if Robert was left-handed?” Tommy Lee asked.
“Yes,” Lindsay said. “I asked Janet Sinclair that question yesterday, anticipating we’d want to make sure someone hadn’t tried to place the prints after he died. But the key word is preponderance. The tech notes only left-hand prints—on the gun, on the magazine, and on the cartridges. Have you ever tried to load a magazine with one hand?”
“Someone knew he was left-handed and overdid it,” Tommy Lee said. “Obviously, Janet knew her husband was left-handed, as would Luther Brookshire, given his close connection during their relocation in WITSEC.”
“And, Barry, your concern about the floor mat paid off. The only gun oil was on the spot where the pistol lay. That’s a pretty unlikely circumstance given curvy mountain roads. Both the ledger and gun would have slid around to some measurable degree.”
“So, Janet Sinclair is either a hapless pawn or a coconspirator,” I said.
“Well, she couldn’t be her husband’s killer,” Lindsay declared. “We ran down the surveillance video from Ingles and confirmed she was in a register line at the time on the grocery receipt.”
I thought how Luther Brookshire had described Robert Sinclair. That an IQ hovering slightly above room temperature isn’t going to mastermind such a complex operation. “Sounds like Robert Sinclair could have been a dupe in this whole thing. And if the murderer was a hitman from the Santona family, why bother to plant the pistol with Robert’s prints? He’d just want to waste the guy, leave the rose, and be gone.”
Tommy Lee leaned closer to the speakerphone. “Lindsay, have you tracked Brookshire’s location for when Janet called him yesterday?”
“Yes. He was on your side of Asheville. He could have removed the battery from his cell phone, traveled undetected to kill Sinclair, and then powered back up in time to receive Janet’s call when he was safely away from the crime scene.”
Tommy Lee sighed. “Well, if nearly a half million dollars is now out of the country, is there a danger Brookshire’s a flight risk? Either solo or with Janet?”
“I don’t know about Brookshire,” I said, “but I don’t think Janet’s going to walk away without collecting the money from the insurance policies. If she can get the death benefit as well as cash values, we’re talking more than a million and a half. As far as she knows, she’s not a suspect.”
“Then let’s leave it that way,” Lindsay said. “We’ll let her stay in the safe house, but give her a loose rein. I’ll tell Brookshire I’ve reconsidered and that as soon as we check out a few things from her statement, the marshals can have her back.”
“Sounds good,” Tommy Lee agreed. “Barry, what’s your next move?”
“I think if Brookshire’s part of the EBT conspiracy and he planted the ledger book, he’ll want to make sure the store owners destroy the matching records. He might instruct them by phone, or if he’s concerned about being tapped, visit them in person. I’d like to see Buddy Smith at Wilmer’s Convenience Corner and show him a photo of both Robert Sinclair and Luther Brookshire. I’ve got Sinclair’s. Lindsay, can you e-mail me one of Brookshire?”
“Sure,” she said. “And I’ll throw in one of Janet. Never underestimate a woman’s deceitfulness.”
Tommy Lee laughed. “That’s my niece. Calls ’em like she sees ’em.”
“And what I want to see is this case closed,” Lindsay said. “Especially if we’ve got a dirty federal marshal.”
I remembered that Wilmer’s Convenience Corner wasn’t convenient around the clock. Buddy Smith closed at seven during the week. If I was going to have a confrontation with him, I preferred to arrive nearer closing time and wait till we could talk in private.
As it was late afternoon, I phoned Susan at her clinic to let her know I’d be late for dinner.
“How are you feeling?” was my opening question.
“I’m fine, Barry. I don’t want you treating me like I’m sick for
the next seven months.”
“I know. I know. I guess I’m just getting used to the idea.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll whine when I want to. What’s up?”
I gave her the status of the case and told her I’d be home late. Wilmer’s Convenience Corner was about forty-five minutes away.
“Is this undercover?”
I realized I wasn’t sure. Collier Crockett had come to the cabin angry at what he saw as my interference, but he said that he hadn’t given away my identity. Maybe I could demand Buddy’s records claiming to represent Sinclair or Brookshire. If that didn’t work, I’d show my creds and tell him I was working with Crockett and the FNS.
“I’ll play it undercover at first,” I told Susan.
She took a deep, audible breath. “Please be careful. Two little ones are going to need their father.”
Her words hit hard. I wasn’t one for taking unnecessary risks, but now the prospect of leaving Susan a widow with two infants shocked me with its unanticipated magnitude.
“I will, dear. We’re close to wrapping this up. In a few days, everything will be back to normal.”
“Barry, you know our normal will soon be changed forever.”
“And I can hardly wait. Love you.”
“Love you too.” She hung up.
I sat for a moment, second-guessing my plan. Buddy Smith had his own little girl to protect and she’d be home from school. So, I’d play my role easy on the threat level, either as a criminal or a deputy.
Next I phoned Fletcher at the funeral home and learned he had the death certificates for Robert Sinclair.
“Have you told Archie?” I asked him.
“No. I just picked up ten copies from the town hall fifteen minutes ago.”
“Good. I’ll call Archie. Leave them on my desk in case he wants me to run them by tonight.”
I immediately dialed Archie’s cell phone. “Have you heard anything more from Janet Sinclair?”
“Yes,” he said. “She called at noon asking for the insurance forms and death certificates.”
I could hear Archie’s young girls laughing in the background.
“Where are you?”
“Still with Gloria and her mother. Do you think it’s safe for us to return home?”
“Not yet. A day or two at most. And I have the death certificates from Fletcher and you can contact Janet Sinclair. But, Archie, tell her you’ll just drop them off at the Renaissance Hotel. Don’t meet her or this unknown friend alone.”
A few seconds of silence passed. “You think she killed her husband?” His voice sounded like he was being strangled.
“No, I don’t. She has an ironclad alibi. But there are things and people still at play. Someone might be watching her, so I’d rather you keep your distance.”
“So, should I drive into Gainesboro now?”
Weaverville was an hour away on the north side of Asheville. That meant Archie had to come in and then turn right around. Wilmer’s Convenience Corner would be a much closer rendezvous. “Archie, do you have all the policy information with you?”
“You mean like the companies and the numbers?”
“Yes.”
“Of course. I downloaded the forms and I’ve pre-filled everything out. All Janet has to do is sign and either mail or FedEx them and the death certificate.”
“And where will the checks come?”
“To that company. Sinclairity Sales. The one we rolled the ownership into when we added their Santona names. The address of record is their home.”
Janet had left the Sinclairity Sales bank account open, which meant she would need to collect her mail, or, if there was an accomplice, have that person pick it up. Then the checks could be deposited, and if our theory was correct, wired to the Cayman Islands.
“Good. We’ll meet near Asheville. I’m interviewing someone at Wilmer’s Convenience Corner.” I gave Archie the address. “Just be there around five to seven and wait in your car. Maybe pump some gas if you need it, and then park at the edge of the lot if I’m not there yet. Try not to be late. They close at seven.”
“And where do I drop the forms off at the hotel?”
“At the front desk. Phone her after you’re back in your car. If she wants to change the mailing address, tell her she can’t because it’s not the address of record.”
“Okay. Then I’ll see you at Wilmer’s Convenience Corner. Six fifty-five.”
“Yes. Just do everything exactly as I said and you’ll be fine.”
Archie laughed. “When have I ever not listened to you, Barry?”
Only whenever I’m talking, I thought.
Chapter Twenty-seven
I was in the jeep, headed for my rendezvous with Archie and a possible confrontation with Buddy Smith at Wilmer’s Convenience Corner. On the seat beside me were two folders: one with three copies of Robert Sinclair’s death certificate and the other with individual photos of Luther Brookshire, Robert Sinclair, and Janet Sinclair. I felt confident that if Buddy recognized any of the three people, he would break and I could get Lindsay Boyce to place him and his daughter Norie in an FBI safe house.
The drive gave me an opportunity to review the scenes of the case, one by one, like placing pieces of a puzzle together when you’re not sure what the final picture is going to be.
Toby McKay had had a failed apple crop and gotten in debt to Rufus Taylor. He’d forfeited his EBT card as a forced method of repayment. All of the cash generated by its fraudulent purchases was either being kept by Rufus or split with the organizers of the scam food stamp network. Then Toby lost a second crop and suffered an emotional breakdown. But instead of going after Rufus and the conspiracy, he targeted Commissioner of Agriculture Graham James, whose department had destroyed his tainted apples and forced him into his dire circumstances.
Rufus was murdered less than an hour later. One certainty—his death wasn’t a coincidence, not when Toby’s EBT card was discovered in his wallet. Toby’s son, Sonny, showed up drunk at the hospital that night, trying to see Commissioner James, ostensibly to explain his father’s actions. He wound up in a jail cell next to Archie, who took on the ridiculous alias of Brad Pitt and learned that Sonny believed his own life was in danger. Reluctantly, Tommy Lee agreed to let Archie continue his charade with Sonny, but Archie, being Archie, bragged to his clients, the Sinclairs, that he was playing a crucial role in the investigation of Toby McKay’s attack on the Commissioner of Agriculture. Sonny was murdered that night, and with the same gun that killed Rufus Taylor.
We had statements that Janet Sinclair left the Apple Festival parade soon after Commissioner James was attacked. She could have called someone, like her lover Luther Brookshire, or gone after Rufus herself. She knew Toby’s action would trigger an investigation that could lead back to Rufus. With him dead, ties to the large-scale fraud would be severed.
But we found cash and articles in Rufus’ closet that pointed to a broader conspiracy, and the newspaper report of the slaughter of a little girl’s cat led to Wilmer’s Convenience Corner, a store on a list that Sonny McKay must have intended to share with Archie, aka Brad.
We also had the definitive link between checks Rufus Taylor wrote to Staples Sources and the deposits Janet Sinclair made on behalf of her husband. Or the more likely scenario that Janet had been forging his name from the start. Once the possibility arose that Janet Sinclair killed Rufus, then her execution of Sonny McKay became an easy leap to make. The gun was the same. And the likelihood existed that Sonny would have let down his guard if a pretty woman knocked on his trailer door late at night claiming to have car trouble. But Sonny had drunk himself into a stupor and a simple break-in was all she needed.
If we assumed Janet’s guilt brought her lover Brookshire into the picture, then he could have killed Robert, or all three, for that matter. He’d been close to Janet and her h
usband, guarded their identities in WITSEC, and could have been both seduced and enticed by Janet and the food stamp conspiracy. She’d probably witnessed the Santona family organize something similar in New Jersey.
Planting the gun and ledger on Robert pegged him with both the murders and the food stamp fraud. The signature White Rose of the Santonas diverted the focus from North Carolina to the New Jersey mob and created the impetus for Janet to be given a new identity within WITSEC. She and Brookshire could then follow the money out of the country. Between the insurance and the wire transfer, they could live very well, indeed. It was all an impressive plot if we hadn’t had the breakthrough with the bank accounts and the overreach of making sure the gun in Robert Sinclair’s car reflected his left-handedness. They’d been too clever for their own good. And now the potential testimony of Buddy Smith would be the final piece of the puzzle.
My cell phone vibrated. I glanced down to see the call was from Tommy Lee.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“About fifteen minutes out from Wilmer’s Convenience Corner. What’s up?”
“You and I had a visitor come by the department who wanted to talk to both of us.”
“Who?”
“Luther Brookshire.”
“Really?” I felt my heart rate jump. “A confession?”
“Partly. A confession of stupidity for getting involved with Janet Sinclair. But his main concern was that we believed him when he said he would never undercut our investigation. Yesterday, he picked up on what you did. That Janet Sinclair knew we were investigating the EBT scam. He realized he would be the first person we zero in on as the leak. He swears he never mentioned anything to her about our case. And he thinks she killed her husband.”
“And you believe him?”
“Let’s say it gives me pause. I’ve known Luther a long time, but sex and money are powerful motivators. He claims Janet made the first move and the affair’s been going on only a few months.”
“Isn’t that what you’d expect him to say? It’s a preemptive move because we know he’s tied to her.”
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