The Fiercest Enemy

by Rick Reed

  Jack nodded, although he thought that the attorney that owned the place was just covering his ass from a civil suit in case one of the ‘good ol’ boys’ left the place too drunk and crashed.

  “The phone on the wall,” Jack prompted him to continue.

  “Whoever came in must have used that phone because that’s the number the cops said the call was from. Lots of people use the phone. I never noticed anyone in particular using it around the time they asked me about. I swear on a bible and you can give me one of those poly tests.”

  “That’s not necessary. I believe you,” Jack lied. “Just a couple more questions and we’ll get out of your hair. The two guys you remember. Were they regulars?”

  Spratt didn’t have to think about it. “They came in together. By themselves usually.”

  “What kind of customers were they?”

  “I might as well cut to the chase,” Spratt said and dug his hands into the pockets of the jeans. “They was nothing but trouble. I had to run them off from hanging around out front.”

  “Drugs?” Jack asked.

  Spratt gave Jack a serious look. “That too. They started bringing underage girls in here or try to sneak them in. I can’t ‘bide by someone that does that. I was thinking about barring them from coming around here altogether, then they turn up dead and I say good riddance to gutter trash.”

  “Last question,” Jack said. “Did you ever see them in here with a woman?”

  “Never,” Spratt said. “They was into young girls, you know. Never a woman.”

  “I lied,” Jack said, “I have another question. Was there ever a woman in here that was interested in either of them? Tried to pick them up? Bought them a drink?” He turned to Liddell and said, “See if you can find a picture of Shaunda.”

  “There was a woman cop in here asking about one of the guys,” Spratt volunteered. “The picture of the black guy you showed me.”

  Lamont Washington. He saw Liddell had found a photo. Liddell had pulled up a newspaper photo of Shaunda from years back when she was sworn in as the first female Chief Constable of Dugger.

  Liddell showed the photo to Spratt.

  “Might be her,” Spratt answered.

  “Was she wearing a uniform?” Jack asked.

  “No. I knew she was a cop the minute she came through the door. Not that I have anything against cops.”

  “Of course,” Jack said. “What did she ask about the black guy?”

  “I don’t quite recall. Been a while you know.”

  “Try,” Jack persisted.

  Spratt looked at the ceiling as if calling for divine help to be rid of these pestering Feds. “She was asking where the black guy’s buddy was. She described the other one.”

  Liddell pulled up the photo of Winters and held it out. “Is this the guy she was asking about?”

  “That’s who she described to me I guess. She didn’t show me a picture or anything, but the black guy only seemed to have one buddy,” Spratt said. “Can I get home now. The missus is waiting, if you know what I mean.” He had a gleam in his eye. Jack knew what he meant. He’d seen that same look in the mirror when Katie was waiting for him.

  “Do you know where the lady was a cop? Sullivan?” Jack asked.

  “No. Not from around here,” Spratt said. “I’d know her. Never seen her before that night and never seen her since. Well, maybe one other time.”

  “Are you positive she was a cop?” Jack asked.

  “I knew it right off. And another regular pointed her out to me in case she was in here to cause trouble.”

  Jack translated ‘in here to cause trouble’ as meaning she might arrest someone for criminal activity. He asked, “Where did this regular customer say she was from?”

  “Maybe over in Linton or Lyons or some little town over that way.”

  “Was she with a woman or a man any of the times you saw her?”

  “I don’t recall. I remember she was a cop,” Spratt said.

  Jack and Liddell watched Spratt greet the younger Kool-Aid haired bartender in an unchaste hug and they left.

  “You drive,” Jack said, throwing the keys to Liddell.

  They got in the Crown Vic. Jack said, “Let’s see if Jerrell is available. Maybe we can get him onboard. I’ll call the director and update him.”

  Liddell headed toward Linton while Jack made the calls. Jerrell agreed to meet them in his office. Toomey was more of a concern. He was beginning to waffle. Someone was putting the pressure on.

  “The director didn’t say we were done, did he?” Liddell asked.

  “He didn’t say much of anything,” Jack replied. “I think he’s at the stage of ‘don’t know, don’t care to know.’”

  “He pulled Angelina off the job here. I wonder what he’ll think when she doesn’t go back home?”

  “She’s basically a civilian. He’s lucky to have her at all. I don’t think he wants to mess up that relationship.”

  “How did Jerrell sound?”

  “I don’t think he can be convinced. It doesn’t matter if he is or not. He’ll get over it.”

  “I was just getting to like it.”

  “You mean in the situation we’re in?” Jack asked.

  “You know what I mean. I like Rosie. I like Shaunda. These are good people. Where I came from the people might take potshots at each other but outsiders would find them standing together if push came to shove. I think it’s the same way here.”

  “I hear you, Bigfoot,” Jack said. “I was down there with you, remember. I hope we don’t run into more of the same here.” Jack and Liddell had run into several corrupt and deadly officials in Liddell’s hometown and a lot of people had died before they’d put a stop to them.

  They passed through Dugger on their way to Linton, not speaking, dealing with their own thoughts and emotions at what they might have to do here.

  “Linton straight ahead,” Liddell said.

  Jack looked up as they passed under the big wooden banner running across the road that said, “You’ll Like Linton”. He remembered what Liddell had said when they first entered the town. “But will Linton like us?”

  Chapter 39

  They pulled into the police parking lot of the Linton PD and were met at the side door by Sergeant Ditterline. Jack saw the defensive look on the man’s face. Word had already spread that they were trying to make a federal case out of a justified shooting. To his surprise, Ditty said, “You guys do what you have to.” His meaning was clear. No one wanted to work with a cop whose behavior was questionable.

  “Thanks, Sergeant. We will,” Jack said.

  “My friends call me Ditty.”

  “Thanks Ditty. That means a lot to us,” Jack said and could feel his blood pressure lower.

  Not that he was any stranger to pissing other cops off. However, this wasn’t his home turf.

  Jack and Liddell went in the side entrance and walked to the chief’s office where Liddell knocked. The door was opened by Jerrell and Jack could see it was a full house. Sergeant Crocker, the two Crime Scene guys, even Rusty the K-9 officer minus his trusty sidekick were present and all eyes were on Jack and Liddell.

  Jerrell said, “We’re a close-knit department. All these officers have worked hard on this. I was the one that hired them. They deserve—no, they need—to hear what you have to say. I’m not meaning to intimidate, you understand.”

  Jack replied, looking around the room, “Good. You’re not intimidating us.”

  Ditty had come in behind them and said, “He’s a hoot. For a Fed that is.” Not everyone smiled.

  Jack made the decision. He was going to trust them. “Can we get some chairs? This might take a while.”

  Sergeant Crocker got up and Jack added, “Can someone watch the door and make sure we’re not interrupted?”

  Jerrell nodded
at Rudy. Rudy could still hear but wasn’t essential to the discussion because Barr knew everything Rudy did. Rudy stood in the doorway. Crocker brought extra chairs and Jack and Liddell took a seat.

  Jack began with asking Jerrell, “What has everyone been told about the need for this meeting?”

  Jerrell replied, “I haven’t discussed it with them. I thought you’d tell us what you know.”

  “First of all, this isn’t the way the FBI would normally conduct an inquiry into a shooting. You men need to understand that everything that’s said in this room is in confidence and will go no further than Chief Jerrell. No wives, girlfriends, not anyone. Tell me you understand or it ends here.”

  All around the room Jack got an affirmative answer and it made the mood even more tense. Jack said, “Secondly, you’re all sworn law enforcement officers. You took the same oath that we took to uphold the law of the land. When something is questionable we are sworn to look into it and not sweep it under the rug because it’s a fellow officer, politician, or your bookie or someone that holds your mortgage.”

  The latter remark about the bookie and mortgage got a few grins.

  Jack said, “You know that we were here to investigate five separate, but possibly connected murders. Before we got to town yesterday a sixth murder occurred. We developed a suspect for the last murder. Tony Anderson.”

  Officer Barr said, “We found Troy Junior’s neck chain in Anderson’s pocket. He had the cell phone from Brandon Dillingham. I’d call that a little more than being a suspect.”

  “Possession might be nine tenths of the law in the civilian world, but in police work possession is just probable cause to investigate further. A defense attorney would say the guy found the phone and the necklace. That they were discarded by the real killer. Or maybe given to Anderson to throw us off the track. After all, the previous murder scenes were staged to look like suicides or accidental drownings. The victims were drugged or drunk or both.” He reminded himself that he needed to check all the local pawn shops and jewelers from here to Hutsonville to see if they carried that medallion. He doubted it was rare.

  No one said anything, nor did they argue the point that the scenes may have been staged. Jerrell sat like a statue not looking at anyone, like the bartender in Hutsonville had said, “Jerrell was keeping himself to himself.”

  “Greene and Sullivan Counties both have a lot of drug activity,” Jack said. “Most of you were aware of Dillingham’s preference for young girls. We discovered today that the other victims shared the same traits. Drugs. Alcohol. Young girls.”

  He could feel a shift in the room from cold to cool. It was a start but he didn’t want to convince them. He wanted them to convince him. “When we all started this yesterday Sergeant Crocker’s wife, Tina, told us there was a connection between some of the victims through Union and Stocker-Linton High School. She also told us that four of the victims played baseball as rival’s but they would hang out together and party.”

  Crocker said, “While we were waiting for you guys to get here I went through the Union High School yearbooks. I found a picture of an older guy hanging out with a couple of guys in baseball uniforms at Union High. You’ll never guess who it was.”

  Jerrell said, “While we’re still alive, Crocker.”

  “Yes, sir, Chief. There were three people in the picture. Two were in Union High School baseball uniforms. One of them was Leonard DiLegge. I got the name of the other student but he wasn’t someone we were interested in. If you want it I got it written down.” He dug his notebook out of his pocket but Jerrell gave him an impatient look.

  “Anyway, I’ve got it if you want it. Okay, the third guy was in slacks and a sport coat. It didn’t give his name but I got out the pictures of the victims. It was Clint Baker talking to DiLegge and the other guy. They were talking like buddies.”

  Officer Barr said, “We already know the victims have some things in common. What we don’t know is how Chief Lynch fits in the picture. Dillingham didn’t go to school with these guys. We don’t know that he even knew any of them.”

  “Let him finish,” Jerrell said.

  “Thank you Chief. I’ll tell you what we did this morning and let you decide for yourselves.”

  The room was quiet. All eyes were on Jack.

  Jack began. “I had my computer analyst, Angelina Crowley, run background on everyone involved in these cases. That included Chief Shaunda Lynch. Angelina told me that Shaunda had one living relative. An aunt named Eunice Lynch who lived in Hutsonville, Illinois.”

  Some of the officers exchanged looks, but Jack forged on.

  “We were leaving Rosie’s this morning and Shaunda was there. She asked where we were going and we told her Hutsonville. She insisted on going. I mentioned her aunt and she told me her aunt was dead. Angelina advised otherwise. Angelina’s rarely wrong. We took Shaunda with us and reinvestigated what we could in Hutsonville and I’ll tell you about that in a bit.”

  “When we were finished in Hutsonville we brought Shaunda back to Rosie’s and she stayed there. Liddell and I went back to Hutsonville to find the aunt. She is alive and wasn’t surprised we had come to see her. She apparently had seen something about Troy Junior’s death in the news or there was some gossip, and she saw a photo of Shaunda in uniform. Before that she’d had no contact since Shaunda was seventeen. Didn’t know where she was, but knew she was pregnant. We’re going to let you hear the recorded conversation with Shaunda’s aunt.”

  Liddell put the recorder on the table and they all gathered around as he turned it on. It started with Jack asking her name.

  Eunice: “My name’s Eunice Lynch.”

  Jack: “Are you related to Shaunda Lynch?”

  Eunice: “She’s my niece.”

  Jack: “When was the last time you saw Shaunda?”

  Eunice: “She was almost seventeen years old.”

  Jack: “When did you become aware of her again?”

  Eunice: “I was at the beauty shop a few weeks ago. We all gossip, I know it’s shameful, but one of the girls asked if I’d heard from Shaunda recently. I said that I hadn’t talked to the girl for a long time. My friend, Trudy, said she’d just seen Shaunda in the newspaper. She went out to her car and brought a Sullivan Times newspaper in and showed it to me. There was a story about a man drowning in a stripper pit lake in Dugger. That’s in Indiana.”

  Jack: “We’ve just come from there.”

  Eunice: “You’ve talked to Shaunda? How is she?”

  Jack: “Shaunda’s fine. Continue with how you became aware that she was in Dugger.”

  Eunice: “Okay. I saw the article and they had a photo of Shaunda in a police uniform. It said she was the Chief Constable and went on about how she was the first woman ever to hold that position. I think it’s shameful when they make a big fuss about a woman doing something. It’s like they’re saying, ‘Can you believe that?’”

  Jack: “Go on.”

  Eunice: “Well, that’s about it. The article said she’d been with the Dugger Police for around five years. I never heard a word from her. I didn’t know she’d come back until that day. Not that I expected her to call or come by. We didn’t part on good terms.”

  Jack: “Tell me about that.”

  Eunice: “It’s a long story.”

  Jack: “We’ve got time.”

  Eunice: “Well, I don’t. Let me make a call and tell my hairdresser that I won’t make it.”

  The recording stopped. It started again.

  Eunice: “Now, where was I?”

  Jack: “It’s a long story…”

  Eunice: “Shaunda visited me a couple of times when she was around nine or ten. Her father was my brother. He’s deceased. His wife too. They died in a house fire. So tragic. He was my brother but he was a mean bastard. Excuse my language, but there’s no other way to describe him. He was my younger broth
er. He got religion when he married that woman and they were so strict on Shaunda. Poor girl was treated like a slave and couldn’t have any friends. They didn’t approve of anyone, those two. I convinced them to let Shaunda come over and stay for a few days now and then. My brother found out I was taking Shaunda over to a neighbor to let her ride a horse and he had a hissy fit. Said I should have asked him and he didn’t know who this neighbor was. I told him it was divorced man and all the sudden the man was a sinner that was going to molest his daughter and such. That was the end of Shaunda’s childhood to my way of thinking.”

  Jack: “When did you see her again?”

  Eunice: “Not until she was a sophomore in high school.”

  Jack: “Tell me about that.”

  Eunice: “She came to the door one night. It was dark outside. She said she’d been kicked out of the house and she didn’t have anywhere else to go. She’d hitchhiked and walked all the way here from Dugger where they lived. She was tired and hungry and upset and I wanted to kill my brother and that woman for the way they treated this girl. Anyway, I put her in the extra bedroom and told her she could stay as long as she needed. She started crying and said I would make her leave like her parents did when I knew why they kicked her out. I made her tell me and she said she was pregnant.”

  Jack: “She was a sophomore. That would make her about sixteen, correct?”

  Eunice: “Yes. My son lived with me then. He was twenty-one. It was hard for him to find a job back then you see, and he’d never finished high school. He was good about her staying and they got along fine for a while.”

  Jack: “Shaunda?”

  Eunice: “Shaunda stayed with me a few nights before she would talk to me how she got pregnant. She told me that she had been invited to a party for some of the seniors. She had sneaked out because my brother would have skinned her alive if he knew. When she got to the party there was a lot of drinking and drugs and—well you know what raging hormones will do. She said she wanted to go home but she was coaxed into having one drink before they took her home. You know how young people are. She gave in and whatever it was they gave her made her sick. She said she couldn’t move or talk and they were laughing at her and carried her down into a mine.”