Дэвид Балдаччи - The Fallen

“How do you know they were taken there in his van?”

“I heard a vehicle start up after I saw the lights in the house flickering, which means they had already placed the bodies and poured the blood, which eventually caused the flickering. They must have gone to the house with the bodies before I went out on the deck. And the only car on the street that night was Ross’s.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yeah, I can. It’s a dead-end street. While I wouldn’t have seen the car, I would’ve seen the car lights if it had gotten to the stop sign at the end of the street. That means the vehicle didn’t leave the street. It dropped off the bodies and then it was driven back to Ross’s house, and the people who dumped the bodies probably left from there on foot.”

“An old guy in a wheelchair is in the middle of this?”

“I think he is, because his son is.”

“Okay. I guess I can see that, but looping your octogenarian father into a major drug operation can seem pretty unbelievable.”

“Well, it’s about to get more unbelievable, because Alice Martin, the former Sunday school teacher, is involved too.”

“What! How do you figure that?”

“Her damaged walking cane was the sound I heard that night. She was out there, probably checking on the transfer. And she told me she despises Fred Ross, but his phone number is up on her wall along with all her other frequently called numbers. But there’s something else.”

“What?”

“She was the one who told me that she had seen two men fitting the descriptions of Beatty and Smith enter the house next to where their bodies were found.”

“So?”

“So now we know those houses were used as pill press operations. Your guys would not have been going in there, which means Martin was lying.”

“But if they were undercover they might have.”

“Martin told me she had seen them go in there a couple of weeks before. If they had been in there as undercover agents, they would have reported the pill press operations to their agency contact.”

“That’s true.”

“Martin had to know that I would probably go check that out right after she told me. And I did. Now, why do I think a review of her phone records would show that she immediately phoned Fred Ross or somebody else? And the next thing you know, Brian Collins shows up pretending to be a cop next door and tries to kill me. See, I don’t think he was watching the place. Why would he be? There was nothing left there; they’d already cleared out. I think he was called there to kill me, because Martin had basically told me a lie to get me to investigate the place. This was all a setup. And it was prearranged to be initiated if I came to question Martin and seemed to be getting too close.”

Kemper looked thoughtful for a few moments, then said, “We obviously know about Ted Ross and the drug ring. But is there something else?”

“I think there’re a lot of things, and not all of them are drug-related. So maybe they’re of no interest to you.”

She smiled. “Before I joined the DEA, I had an ambition to become an FBI agent. It was a last-minute change in my career path.”

“Why?”

“On a stupid bet my best friend in the world took a PCP cocktail and it fried her brain. I remember visiting her in the hospital, staring down at a beautiful young woman who no longer had a mind. And from that moment forward, my whole life was going to be about taking down the monsters who sell that poison.”

“I can see how that would alter your career path,” said Decker.

She leaned forward. “But my interest extends to taking down all bad guys.”

“Glad to hear that.”

She dropped her voice. “As an add-on to what we discussed before, we strongly suspect the presence of a major pill press operation in western Pennsylvania. That’s why a big-time operator like Brian Collins would be here too. If he was involved, you can take it to the bank that some heavyweights have descended on Baronville.”

“And now we know that Ted Ross is supplying them with all the fentanyl they need.”

Kemper straightened. “That’s right. But you already know all this. So why did you want to meet?”

In answer, Decker slipped his badge off his belt and laid it on the table.

She stared down at it before glancing back at him with a perplexed look.

“What does your badge have to do with it?”

“Not my badge,” replied Decker.

“Then whose?”

“You’ll see. But I need your help to get there.”

“He didn’t show up this morning. I called his home but no one answered. I drove over there but his car was gone. I peeked in the window, but it was all dark. And a neighbor told me she saw Mr. Norris leaving in the middle of the night with a bunch of luggage. But he never told me he was going anywhere. I’m not sure what to do.”

This had all come tumbling out of Jenny, Willie Norris’s assistant, as Decker and Jamison stood across from her in the front room of the man’s insurance office.

“He had appointments this morning and he missed them all,” she added. “Do you think he’s all right?”

“I seriously doubt it,” said Decker. He looked around. “And if I were you, I’d think about looking for another job.”

Her face crumpled. “Hell, I had a hard enough time getting this one.”

“And maybe hire a good lawyer,” added Decker.

“What!? Why?”

“Because you just never know.”

He and Jamison walked out and Decker phoned Kemper.

“We got a runner,” he said, filling her in. “I know this isn’t exactly your jurisdiction, but for all I know Norris is connected to all the other crap going down in this town. And you might want to have some people start digging through his business records.”

“On it.”

“And the other thing?” he asked.

“Nearly done.” She clicked off.

Decker put his phone away.

“What other thing?” Jamison asked.

“Something I tasked Kemper with. I’ll fill you in later.”

“You think that asshole was part of the gas sabotage at my sister’s that nearly killed us?”

“I would be stunned if he wasn’t. It happened pretty quickly after we spooked him. And now he’s on the run.”

“So what did he get out of all this?”

“Money. His normal commission plus something on the back end. But we can find out for sure.”

“How?”

He glanced at her. “You up for another carrot cake muffin?”

Linda Drews called out to them as they walked into her café.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you?” she said, smiling.

“No, we couldn’t,” replied Decker. “We’ll take two more of the carrot cake muffins and some coffee.”

“To go or you eating in?”

“Better make it to go. And before you handle any hot coffee, can I ask you some questions?”

She smiled, though her look was perplexed. “Sure.”

Her smile vanished when Decker showed her his cred pack.

“FBI? Am I in trouble?”

“That depends. We met with Mr. Norris. He wasn’t very forthcoming. I’m hoping you’ll be better at that.”

Drews put a hand on the counter to support herself.

Decker leaned against the wall. “Your son never should have been able to get that life insurance policy; do you know that?”

Drews lips started to tremble. “Guess I do now, mister.”

“But Norris made it happen?” said Jamison.

“It was his idea. I guess I should’ve told you before, but I didn’t know you were with the FBI. He came to me after Keith injured his back. I’ve known Willie a long time. Got my car insurance through him. And my house insurance, when I had a house. He said in crazy times like these, it’d be a good idea. I wanted to get me a policy too and have Keith the beneficiary, but Willie said with all the drugs I’d done they’d never approve me.”