The Fiercest Enemy

by Rick Reed

  Jack said, “As far as we know. We didn’t touch the body. He was obviously dead unless he was a congressman. They don’t need half their brains.”

  Barr seemed satisfied with that answer.

  While Crime Scene worked, Jack and Liddell walked several paces away and spoke in lowered voices. Liddell asked, “What’s bugging you, pod’na?”

  Jack had his back to the Crime Scene officers and spoke in almost a whisper. “Let me walk through this and you jump in where you see fit.

  “We heard two gunshots. Jerrell was with me. A few feet apart. We ran down the tracks in the direction of the shots and met you coming alone from about fifty to a hundred yards east of us.”

  “That’s sounds right,” Liddell said.

  “Jerrell calls her on the radio. No answer. He calls her cell and she answers. She says ‘I got him’ and we find her over there about two feet in front of the body. Looks to me like he tried to crawl under the tree.”

  “Agreed,” Liddell said.

  Jack paused to organize his thoughts then went on. “Shaunda’s bleeding from the right side of her chest. The right side of her jacket and sleeve are soaked with blood. She’s acting like she’s going into shock. Jerrell is more concerned about her injury than where the suspect is. He has to ask where the guy was. She said, ‘I told you I got him.’

  “We see the back of the head is blown out. He’s more than dead. Where did the second shot go?”

  “Maybe she fired a warning shot?” Liddell suggested.

  Jack could see Barr and Rudy occasionally casting looks their way. He said, “Shaunda said she saw this guy. Told him to stop. He ran. She chased. He stopped and she thought he punched her in the side. She said she saw him draw his arm back, like he was going to hit her again. That’s when she saw the knife and shot him in the face.”

  “Maybe she shot him twice and missed one of the shots?”

  “She shot him point blank in the face, Bigfoot. The gunshots were close together. If she shot him in the face twice I don’t think we would have found his head.”

  “Hard one to call, pod’na. Strange shit happens when you’re fighting for your life. You should know that better than anyone. We’ve become hard after all the crap we’ve been through, but if this was the first time she shot someone, much less killed anyone, she may not be thinking straight.”

  Liddell was right. Jack hated to be suspicious. But there were other questions that added to the ones he was already asking. Each question brought up another one.

  “The red marker flags are the suspect’s. The yellow are Shaunda’s. Hers seem to go behind the tree and then she’s confronting him in front of the tree. Did she crawl underneath? Did he? Their flags don’t converge until they are both in front of the tree. It doesn’t show she was chasing him. Surely she’d remember if she ran around that big tree.”

  “What are you getting at?” Liddell asked.

  Jack made sure the Crime Scene techs weren’t watching them. He said, “What if she saw this guy first. What if she worked her way around the tree and waited for him. She comes around behind him. He turns. Bam! Bam! Bye bye.”

  “How do you explain her injury and the knife?”

  Jack didn’t know. Yet. He’d talk to Angelina about satellite imaging. Then he’d ask her to run a history on Shaunda, Jerrell, the Crockers, Ditty, Rosie and Pen and Patty just to cover the bases.

  “There’s little we can do here,” Jack said. “We should find out when the autopsy is and be there for that. Then I guess we stop by the hospital and check on Chief Lynch.”

  “You mean interview her?”

  “Can’t slip anything by you, Bigfoot.”

  Jerrell came crashing up giving sidelong looks at the colored flags. “I was hoping you’d still be here. I’ll take over and let you two go back and get your paperwork done. You’re welcome to use the offices at the police station. I guess this wraps it up.”

  “Wraps what up?” Jack asked.

  “This is the guy. Shaunda got him. End of story. Cases solved. Your boss will be happy that his little gal could test her whatchamacallit and you’ll look good. I’ll be happy because the town council can kiss my ass about the money spent.”

  “Chief, I think we might be premature calling the investigation off. This might or might not be the guy that visited Penelope or gave Cretin Brandon’s cell phone. Even if it is it doesn’t place him at any of the murder scenes. It would barely connect him to a stolen cell phone.”

  “Now why do you want to go and ruin my happy day?”

  Jack could see the muscles in Jerrell’s jaw working. The chief wanted nothing more than this to be the killer and, even more, the guy that had ambushed Shaunda.

  “Chief, I just want to be positive we have the killer. If we don’t there may be other victims. That would ruin everyone’s day.”

  Jerrell said, “Yeah. Okay.” He didn’t sound convinced.

  Jack said, “We have the drill bit from the campfire. We have the cell phones and the dispatch tapes. We need to get results back on those. After the autopsy we should send the drill bit to the FBI lab.”

  Jack asked Officer Barr, “Have you found any identification?”

  Barr had stopped working and was watching the exchange between Jack and his boss. “Just a sec,” Barr said, and felt inside the dead man’s jean pocket. He removed a leather wallet. “Got a wallet,” he said.

  “Well, open it, numbnuts,” Jerrell said.

  Barr opened the wallet. “Here’s a Tennessee driver’s license in the name of Thomas Anthony Anderson. Address in Nashville.”

  Liddell took out his notebook and Barr gave him all the pertinent information. Liddell called Angelina. She retrieved the info in less than a minute. Liddell repeated what she told him.

  “Thomas Anthony Anderson. The description matches the body. He has a record for vehicle theft. Possession of narcotics. Assault and battery on a police officer.” Angelina said all that was from the same arrest. “Last arrest was a month ago in Louisville. Another vehicle theft.”

  Liddell held a finger up. “There’s more.” He listened. She gave him a list of addresses for Anderson, none of them in Indiana. Then she gave him a list of tattoos and he repeated them to Officer Barr. Barr nodded. “This is our hitchhiker.”

  Jack took the phone. “Angelina, where was he living during the other murders?”

  “He’s not your guy, Jack,” she said. “I just checked prison records. He was in Angola Prison in Louisiana for the last six years. Was released three months ago. No record in Indiana. He doesn’t have anything prior to that stretch. He might be responsible for Clint Baker in Illinois.”

  “Plus, the chief’s son and the one today,” Jack said.

  “I’ll see if I can find anything else to track him but the new system should have brought all that up.”

  Jack thanked Angelina and disconnected. “He was in Angola in Louisiana during most of the murders. He was released three months ago.”

  Liddell added, “Angola Prison is called the ‘Alcatraz of the South’. Super maximum security prison.”

  Jerrell was quick to say, “He could still have killed my boy. She could be wrong. Never trust them damn computers. He could still be responsible for Brandon and the attack on Shauny. He’s a drug dealer and car thief, and don’t forget that battery charge.”

  Liddell’s phone dinged. Angelina had sent him pictures of Anderson. He showed these to Jerrell and Jack.

  Jack said, “Except for the hole beside his nose I’d say that’s who we have here.”

  Jerrell agreed but said, “You haven’t convinced me this isn’t the guy that killed Brandon or assaulted Chief Lynch. Not by a long shot.” He got on his cell. “Hey Ditty. I’m going to need you to stay there a bit longer.” He put the call on speaker.

  “Chief, I heard most of the radio traffic and k
ept it from the girls but Rosie’s a different matter. Did you identify the knucklehead?” Sergeant Ditterline asked.

  Jerrell told him and Ditty asked him to repeat it so he could write it down. “I’ll stay with the girls, but Rosie got a phone call and shot out of here like her ass was on fire, if you’ll excuse my language.”

  “You don’t know where she went?” Jerrell asked.

  “She just blew through the door without saying boo or howdy, Chief.”

  Jerrell said, “She’s probably on her way to the hospital. You stay with the girls.”

  “Does Patty still need to stay here?” Ditty asked. “Her mom’s wanting her to come home. Apparently, word is out about Brandon’s death.”

  Jerrell said, “Her mom can come and get her. I don’t think this had anything to do with the girls in the first place but you stay put. If you get hungry you can charge whatever you eat to me. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “I’ll stay with the girls until you say different, Chief. I’m not spending the night again, am I? If I am I’m smelling kind of ripe.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can or I’ll send a relief,” Jerrell said and disconnected.

  Jack’s phone rang. It was Angelina. “I’m putting you on speaker Angelina,” Jack said.

  “I checked and there is not going to be any help from the eyes in the sky,” she said.

  “I need you to do something else.”

  “Shoot,” she said.

  “Do a thorough check of the following.” He gave her the names of everyone involved in the case from the chiefs, officers, detectives, to the coroners. “I don’t have identifiers on them.”

  “That won’t be a problem. I have the case files. I can get the rest. When do you need this?”

  “Yesterday.”

  “That’s what I thought. I’ll call. Oh, and by the way.”

  “What now?” Jack asked her.

  “Your teenage victim, Brandon Dillingham.”

  “I’m getting older here,” Jack complained.

  “He’s a father. I’ll text you the information,” she said.

  “Well that little asshole,” Jerrell said. “I wonder if Claire or Shauny knew about that? Now what?”

  Jack said, “We’ll go to Rosie’s and show her Tony Anderson’s picture. I’ll text the photos to you and you can have one of your guys run Cretin down and show her. Let’s hope there are prints from this guy on that phone at least.”

  Officer Barr said, “Chief, I got another tattoo here.”

  They all went to see. Barr was holding the suspect’s right hand up. The letters T-O-N-Y were tattooed, one letter on each knuckle.

  “Well, we don’t need to show anyone pictures anyway,” Jerrell said.

  “Let’s show the girls the photos anyway,” said Jack. He believed in tying everything up in a neat bundle. He sent the photos to Jerrell’s phone.

  Chapter 29

  The sun was setting and with it the temperature dropped almost ten degrees when Jack and Liddell hiked back to the Crown Vic. They got in the trunk for heavier jackets and put them on. Chief Jerrell had stayed with his Crime Scene unit. Rusty still had his K-9 partner out doing ever widening circular sweeps of the area hoping to come across another campsite like the one behind Rosie’s.

  “I forgot how far we’d walked,” Liddell complained by the time they reached the parking lot of the Humane Society. Sissy of the blond and purple hair and large glasses was waiting for them.

  “I heard gunshots,” she said, her eyes made even larger by the glasses.

  “It’s all taken care of,” Jack said. “You can unlock your doors and go about business. Thank you for calling us.”

  “Someone get killed?” Sissy asked.

  Jack was tired. He didn’t need the news media to start hounding him. He said, “Your name is Sissy, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “Sissy, we’re federal agents. The man you told us about was involved in a federal investigation that involves this county and Sullivan County. We have him in custody.” Dead. “You can’t tell anyone. Not a soul.”

  “Not a soul,” Sissy repeated.

  “Swear it,” Jack said, with his most serious expression.

  “I swear,” Sissy said and held one hand in the air and the other on an imaginary bible.

  “I’ll make sure your assistance goes in our report to the FBI Director,” Jack said.

  Sissy’s face split open in a grin. “You think I’ll get on television?”

  “Very possibly,” Jack lied, “but not today. Remember, talk to no one about any of this. We weren’t even here.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Jack and Liddell got in the Crown Vic, Jack driving. Jack said, “I swear she’ll be plastered all over the local television tonight.”

  Liddell chuckled. “You were pretty impressive, pod’na. Maybe she’ll wait a minute before she calls the news media.”

  “Let’s go to Rosie’s. We have to tell Penelope about her mom,” Jack said.

  “Did Jerrell say what hospital they’d taken Shaunda to?”

  “Sergeant Ditterline should know,” Jack said.

  They bumped over the railroad tracks and took the narrow road to the Coal Miner Bar. They pulled in front and parked next to the Linton PD cruiser. Penelope opened the door. She had wheeled her chair to the doorway, her face pale with concern, lips thin and trembling. “Is my mom going to die?”

  Sergeant Ditterline said, “Rosie heard most of it on my radio. Sorry. She flew out of here and I had to tell the girls.”

  “Understood,” Jack said. “Penelope, your mom’s going to be okay.” He could see the relief on the girl’s face.

  “I thought…because you came, I mean. Mom says I watch too much TV.”

  “Your mom’s at the hospital right now and being taken very good care of. Chief Jerrell went to the hospital with her.”

  “I want Chief Jerrell to take me to see her.”

  Jack said, “Chief Jerrell will be busy for a little while.”

  “But I want him to take me,” she said, sounding like she was twelve and not seventeen years old.

  “Rosie is going to be with her, hon. Sergeant Ditterline is going to stay with you,” Jack said.

  Ditty picked up the clue. “I’ll be right here. We can play cards or do something fun.”

  “I want to see my mom,” Pen said on the verge of tears.

  From what Jack knew Pen was raised by her mother alone. It was always the two of them dealing with the crap life threw at them. They’d moved here and connected with Rosie. Now the girl was all alone in a place that might be familiar but still wasn’t home. He imagined the panic that was running through the girl’s mind at the possibility of her mother not coming back.

  Jack came to a decision. He would take the girl to see her mother. It was the right thing to do.

  “Get a jacket and something to read,” Jack said to her.

  Penelope raced through the batwing doors of the kitchen and soon Jack heard the whir of the elevator.

  “Where’s the other girl?” Jack asked.

  Sergeant Ditterline said, “Her mother picked her up. I’ll take Pen. She’s my responsibility until Chief Jerrell says otherwise.”

  “You’d better check with the chief,” Liddell said. “He’s at the scene and might need another warm body.” He realized what he’d just said. “Another officer to search the area. They still haven’t found a campsite.”

  Ditty got on the radio to Jerrell and didn’t get a response. The elevator started again while Ditty tried the radio. Penelope came back in the room and watched the men intently.

  Ditty said, “I’ll try his cell.”

  “There’s no great immediacy to get to the hospital, Sergeant. Chief Jerrell wouldn’t have left the hospital if she wasn’t in go
od hands. Besides, he said she’s a tough old bird.”

  Ditty agreed.

  “Who’s a tough old bird,” Shaunda said from the doorway.

  “Mom!” Penelope said, her strong arms working the wheels as hard as possible.

  Shaunda and Rosie came inside. Shaunda was wearing a faded green hospital scrub top with Rosie’s heavy button up sweater around her shoulders. She barely winced as she bent to hug her daughter.

  Penelope drew back and tears ran down a smiling ecstatic face and the words exploded. “Patty already went home with her mom. Did you catch him? I’m sorry I talked to the guy. I didn’t mean for him to hurt you. It’s my fault.”

  Shaunda drew her daughter’s head into her uninjured side and hugged her. “Never say that. It’s not your fault that you’re a good person. Sometimes bad people take advantage of goodness. You did nothing wrong, my precious girl,” she said. Shaunda straightened up and gently lifted Pen’s face. “You’ll always be my little Tootsie Roll.”

  Penelope said, “I’m not a Tootsie Roll,” and sniffled. “Where did he hurt you, Mom?”

  Shaunda released her daughter and lifted the scrub top enough to show a thickness of white gauze.

  “Did he shoot you?”

  “No, I didn’t get shot, nosy.”

  “Why is Aunt Rosie carrying your gun belt?”

  Rosie pushed the gun belt in Jack’s hands and said, “So I am. I hate guns. I don’t allow them in here. Except for Johnny Law that is. I don’t even like that.”

  Jack held the gun belt and saw the big revolver was missing from the holster. It would have been taken by Chief Jerrell to be tested against the bullet that killed Anderson. In its place a small five shot .38 caliber Smith & Wesson Chief Special revolver was strapped in loosely. No policeman that’s been involved in a police shooting wants to go around disarmed after. No matter how many officers are around you it’s comforting to have your own weapon handy. The public would never understand that need or agree, for that matter.

  Jack had been involved in several gunfights. Each time the weapon was taken by a sergeant and given to Crime Scene for ballistics testing. Each time he’d slept with a backup gun under his pillow at night. It never changed.