Jacob's Grace

by C. P. Rowlands

“Here’s your shirt.” Liz handed AJ a plastic bag. “Not another shooting?”

  “No,” AJ said. She checked the blue denim shirt. “Thank you. You are remarkable, Liz.” She hugged her.

  “I loved the challenge. Now what’s this about?”

  “Katie can tell you.”

  “I’ll deal with my daughter. Have more clothing that needs work?” Her eyes sparkled with humor. “Tell me she’s not on crutches.”

  “No one was injured.” AJ took a deep breath.

  “Hi, Mom. What’s up?” Katie walked into the kitchen.

  “I brought AJ’s shirt back.” Liz gave Katie a quick appraisal.

  AJ recognized that look. She’d seen it from her own mother more than once. The same slightly tense posture and narrowed eyes.

  “Today is Bonnie’s swearing in at one o’clock at the Federal Building. Would either of you like to be there?”

  “Darn, I can’t. I have a meeting. Want some coffee, Mom?”

  “I’ll take tea, but I have an appointment. I have a card at home that I’ll send to Bonnie.” Liz still measured Katie with those mother’s eyes, and then turned to AJ. “You need to get ready, don’t you? I’ll make my own tea after you two tell me what happened last night.”

  Katie began the story, the young man at Jimmy’s and the arrest. “They think the man that keyed my car is connected with the work they’ve done this summer.”

  “I see.” Liz turned to AJ. “I’ll stay with Katie while you’re gone, if needed.”

  “Um…” AJ shot a hopeful look at Katie, who was filling the teakettle at the sink.

  “No, and we’ve had this conversation.” Katie raised her chin with a little warning at AJ. “I don’t think I’m in danger at this house, but you should know that someone burned two of AJ’s vehicles yesterday at the police station.”

  Liz frowned. “I don’t see the connection.”

  “Me either,” AJ said. “There was another fire in town at one of our places the day before that. I don’t know if there’s a connection between the fires and the shootings, but we’re working on it.”

  Liz held up both hands and shook her head. “AJ, go do whatever it is you have to do.”

  AJ smiled all the way to their bedroom. Liz and Katie were so alike. They took charge in a nanosecond. She went through the closet and chose a white silk tee with a summer-weight dark gray suit and left for the bathroom. It had been a good breakfast with much laughter over the omelets, which had tasted just fine, thank you very much.

  * * *

  After the ceremony, AJ sent Bonnie off to celebrate and Grace to the office to pick up Tag. She wanted them to scout the house they’d taken down to see if there was a trace of the other Owens brother, then do a drive-by of the businesses they’d found connected to John Owens’s operation.

  Taking time to thank everyone, she slipped away from the crowd. It was time to let the Milwaukee operation go and concentrate on her new task force, and she decided to begin a serious research of the northern Wisconsin area at the office. She opened the Federal Building doors just as someone called her name, and Peter Adams from Justice caught up with her.

  “Do you have time to meet the FBI-DHS coordinator now?” His tan suit and red tie were immaculate against a lightly checked pink shirt. Pete’s red hair was trimmed neatly and his pleasant face was clean-shaven.

  AJ turned back and walked to the elevators with Pete. The FBI coordinator hadn’t returned her call, and she’d assumed she was in trouble over her attempt to contact her. Actually, she’d expected another blast from her own bureau chief.

  “There’s new information,” he said and keyed in his security code.

  Margaret “Maddie” Hershey sat across from AJ in Pete’s office. Attractive and a few years older than AJ, she wore an expensive white suit and sleek matching heels and gave AJ a warm smile. The office smelled like fresh coffee.

  “I was at the back of the room when you presented your case to include Chief Whiteaker’s special investigations unit into your task force,” Maddie said as she opened the tablet in front of her. “Nice job.”

  “Thanks.” AJ took the coffee from Pete. “My biggest fear is that we’ll duplicate your work up north or ruin a thread you’re following. I believe we’d be more effective here.”

  Maddie looked up. “That’s so refreshing to hear in this building.” She hit several keys and swiveled the tablet so AJ could see the screen. “Clint Weeks. This is my report on his request. Here’s his email to me, late last June.”

  Pete read over AJ’s shoulder. “I’ll be damned.”

  “This is why I was at your meeting,” Maddie said. “I turned him down, and I’m pretty sure he immediately went to his good friend, your bureau chief, Lawrence Kelly. I don’t know why you have a task force—Kelly and I don’t talk—but I do have an idea that might benefit both of us. How soon are you going up north?”

  “Soon, and I’m for anything that makes more sense than this.” AJ held Maddie’s gaze. “This whole thing feels off. I could see an assignment or even working with your group, but an entire task force?”

  “We did follow up on Clint Weeks’s information, although he’ll never know,” Maddie continued. “Peter, I apologize, but circumstances…” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at him. “We actually believe something is going on there. Our people are a little farther south and west, but there’s increasing chatter north of Green Bay. I have a rookie agent in Park Falls and he’s good. Would you be willing to include him on your team? He’s familiar with our setup.”

  “Let me have a look at him and I’ll share what we have so far, but it isn’t much.” AJ turned to Pete. “Or have you already given her our information?”

  “You owe me one.” Pete grinned at Maddie before he turned to AJ. “No, I haven’t discussed our plan. Also, be aware that Maddie’s worked with Charles Ryan.”

  A bunch of things fell into place for AJ. “If you know Charles then you know I already have a rookie on my team. Tag Beckett.”

  “Yes, and I know Tag. I did my only tour over there with her years ago, about the first time she was promoted.” She glanced at her watch. “My agent’s name is Sam Mullins. When I get back to my office, I’ll send you his file. How about lunch tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at your office at noon. There’s a place you need to see, but let’s eat first.” Then she was gone, the sound of her heels on the marble floors fading.

  AJ didn’t move for a moment. “Wow,” she said. “That was quick. My God, what energy.”

  “We call her Lightning.” He grinned. “Behind her back.”

  “What’s up with her and Lawrence Harvey?”

  “When you gave your statement to the police over Ariel’s murder last spring, Maddie was with Charles Ryan and Lawrence Kelly in the hallway, waiting for you. At any rate, Kelly gave Maddie a real dressing-down over Clint Weeks’s missing daughter and pretty much trashed the FBI’s trafficking task force in front of a whole bunch of people. It was a mess, but she didn’t flinch, something I really admire about her.”

  AJ shook her head. “Sometimes Kelly has all the finesse of a rock.” She got up, ready to go. “Do you want to meet with us tomorrow?”

  Half-standing, Pete said, “No,” and sank back into his chair. “Everyone else here knows, so you should too. She’s my ex-wife.”

  * * *

  Tag placed her phone on her office desk and rubbed her ear, which was sore after all the minutes on the phone. She’d talked to her parents for a long time and finally called Jay Yardly for another lengthy conversation.

  Jay’s mother was her aunt, her father’s sister. She’d married an architect with a thriving business in Toronto, and they wanted Tag’s parents to retire on a farm they owned up there. Her folks were considering the move and wanted Tag’s opinion. Wisconsin was an increasingly bad place for the Menominee. Most of the young people had already left. Maybe it was time for the older people to get away from the current governor’s mess. They talked to each oth
er often during crisis moments, and she felt lucky to have this connection with them.

  Last spring, sick at heart after the murder of her friends in Afghanistan, she’d spoken to them and discussed leaving the military. The next week her Intelligence team had stumbled across the information she’d brought home, and that had finalized Tag’s decision to leave the military.

  Her phone rang. It was Grace, on her way. AJ wanted them to look at the Owens house they’d taken down plus some of the businesses connected to that place. They’d worked on Robert Owens early this morning before Grace had to leave and forwarded all the information to the chief. Thinking about what was ahead of them, she began to clear her desk.

  Trafficking was so common in the Mideast that Tag had thought this would be a continuation of what she’d watched for so many years. Much to her surprise, it was highly organized and hard to detect here, hidden behind storefronts, in quiet neighborhoods and in the dark computer sites Grace had picked through this morning. They both knew they’d only scratched the surface, and the new task force would have to pick up where they’d left off.

  Chapter Eleven

  Grace parked in front of the Owens house, and Tag laughed at the old beater ahead of them on the street. “That car looks worse than AJ’s.” The man in the car adjusted his rearview mirror and checked them out.

  “He knows we’re here. The chief posted a car last night.” Grace changed out of her heels into running shoes and pointed at the alley and clock tower. “That’s where the young boy, Kevin Owens, died, running from this house,” she said as she got out of the car.

  Tag followed. Beautiful house and neighborhood. The hedge wrapped the lawn, and colorful flowers smelled spicy and earthy. She touched the soft grass with a smile and caught up with Grace, who was talking on her phone.

  “AJ? The garage door is open at the house and the crime scene tape is down. Is the warrant good for this?” She was quiet, listening. “Okay. We’ll check it out.”

  Tag started to move but froze at a distant sound, anxiously searching the sky. Ice ran through every nerve in her body. At that moment the local news helicopter passed over them and they both watched it. She startled when Grace touched her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” Grace said with a puzzled expression.

  “That damned sound…always stops me.”

  Her face still concerned, Grace turned toward the house. “Come on. Let’s see if the door’s open.”

  The back door was unlocked, and they stepped into a large kitchen.

  Tag looked past Grace and saw two sleeping bags on the living room floor. Two military duffel bags leaned against the wall beside a pair of military-issued boots. Newspapers were stacked neatly, and a closed laptop sat on a box.

  “Someone’s been here and picked the house up. We left it in a mess,” Grace said.

  Tag moved around Grace. A room to their right had obviously been an office. Cords and plugs lay everywhere, but any computer or electronics had been confiscated by the police. There were three bedrooms down the hall, bare but for dirty mattresses on the floor. The house was quiet with a few dust motes floating in the sunlight.

  “Seven rooms down here,” Grace said. “Let’s go upstairs.”

  They found a long hallway at the top of the stairs, four rooms on each side, with more bare mattresses and another bathroom. There wasn’t a mattress in the first room. Just another military sleeping bag. Tag opened the closet. Men’s shirts and pants hung neatly inside, including a set of fatigues with “Owens” printed on the standard white tag. The single bathroom was amazingly clean. Shaving equipment neatly lined the sinks. No feminine products she noticed.

  “Someone named Owens bunked in that first room, obviously in the military. There are fatigues in the closet, and look at this. The bathroom’s been cleaned.”

  “Those mattresses are victims’ bedrooms,” Grace said. “This was cluttered and dirty when we were here.”

  There was a sharp noise downstairs, and they took stairs two at a time, running through the living room, garage, and to the yard, but they found nothing. “This is crazy,” Grace said. They retraced their steps, took videos, and closed the doors behind them.

  Tag studied the cement garage floor. “Fresh oil spots and tire marks. Something’s been parked here recently, and those are motorcycle tracks over there.” She looked back at the door. “What did you hear?”

  “It sounded like a door slamming.” Grace holstered her weapon, turning in a slow circle. “There is no way John Owens would have lived in this house. It’s beneath him. Let’s check with the chief’s man on the street and see if he saw anything. We have to drive by some of the businesses we’ve connected to this house and then catch up with AJ at the police station.”

  * * *

  The chief called AJ as she left the Federal Building. She changed directions and then drove downtown to the police holding area. She parked and checked the area. The last thing she wanted was another shooting or car burning.

  The chief handed her papers when she walked into the observation room. “Just talked to the Niagara Police. They have the ephedrine we saw on Jay Yardly’s video, but nothing from Clint Weeks. They didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.”

  AJ scanned the papers he’d given her and began to go through the suspect’s wallet as Grace and Tag entered the room. “What’d you find at the house?”

  “It looks like at least two, maybe three, people there, but let me tell you, John Owens would not have lived in that house. Not his style. Then, when we were upstairs, we thought we heard a door close downstairs. Chief, your guy saw an adult female running from the back of the house and caught them on video. The surveillance is a good idea. We drove by some of the businesses we’ve connected to the house and videoed that too. I sent you the tape since we’re not officially on this anymore.”

  AJ pointed at the suspect in the box on the other side of the window and continued through Owens’s wallet. “As you verified this morning, that’s another Owens brother, Robert, three months out of the army. Our victim, Kevin, apparently had two older brothers, both of them in jail at the moment. Look at this receipt. It gives his address as that house, but his driver’s license says La Crosse. Here’s his army ID, Tag. Think you can get some information out of him and calm him down? All he’ll say is name, rank, number, and honorably discharged.”

  “What about my clothes?” Tag gestured at her faded jeans, worn boots, and army T-shirt.

  “He won’t even notice. Remember how it is when you come home? Like everyone speaks a different language?”

  Inside the box, Tag put her hand on Robert’s shoulder and asked about his service in Afghanistan.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said and straightened. “I served in Kabul for two years.”

  AJ saw that Tag had done this before. They said a few more words, and Tag offered soda or coffee. He nodded and she got up.

  “Do we have coffee?” Tag leaned into the room. “Anyone want to go in with me?”

  AJ shook her head. Every time she looked at Robert Owens she thought of Katie last night. “Grace, you go in.”

  When they began to talk to the suspect AJ realized it had been a good decision. Grace’s easy smile complemented Tag’s firm words.

  Owens’s eyes shifted back and forth, and his body moved constantly. He said he was here to find work, his words spilling out too fast. AJ straightened. If she’d been on the street she’d have thought he was on drugs.

  “Look at his teeth and skin.” She turned to the chief. “Did we get a blood sample from him for drugs?”

  “We should have the results soon. I want to know about the motorcycle,” the chief said and went in, taking a seat. “That’s a beautiful bike you have, Robert.”

  “My brother John has worked on that for years. You people better take good care of it because he’ll kill me if anything happens to it.”

  “We don’t want anything to happen to that bike or you,” the chief said.

 
“How long are you going to keep me?” Owens scraped his chair back with an obvious look at the chief’s uniform, then turned to Grace. “Why are you here? He’s police and I understand about the lady last night, but what’s this about? You’re ATF?”

  “We’re assisting Chief Whiteaker,” Grace said. “Was the victim, Kevin Owens, a relative?”

  “My little brother.” He shoved forward, defensive. “Granddad gave me permission to stay at that house until I find a job. My older brother, John, owns the place, but look what he did.” He made a disgusted sound. “Some kind of sex thing, and now he’s in jail and Kevin’s dead.” He cleared his throat. “He was the coolest little kid. I taught him how to swim, and we played baseball when he got older.” His voice wavered a little.

  “We were with Kevin in the alley,” Grace said gently. “The autopsy said he was sick, but apparently it was untreated.”

  His eyes skittered away from her. “I don’t know anything about that. Don’t I get a lawyer?”

  “We haven’t charged you.” The chief stood. “Who is at the house with you?”

  “A couple of army buddies, just passing through.”

  Tag smiled at him and leaned back in her chair. “This is like the army. Hurry up and wait. Let’s have more coffee. Maybe we can help.”

  Grace followed the chief back into observation and they watched Tag string the kid along.

  “Look at him. The color and marks on the skin aren’t acne, and you know what, Chief? You now have a witness to what went on in the house. The only charges we have are the damage to Katie’s car and resisting arrest, but now you can use him against his brother about the kids. If it’s drugs, let’s turn him over to Jock. He’d salivate over this guy, and that would free us up.” AJ shot him a grim look.

  “You’re right, and I see where you’re going with Jock. I’ll call Charles.”

  AJ mulled that over in her mind. If Owens had shot at her, how had he missed the first time and done so little damage the second? It could be that the people who’d paid Frog had paid him. She stared at the man, trying to make sense out of him. Why had he keyed Katie’s car?