Complicated Matters Read online

  “Don’t worry, Sheriff.” The young man beamed at his computer screen. “We’ve never had this much excitement around here before. It’s better than the movies. Too bad we can’t a big screen TV in here to watch it on. That would be so awesome.”

  Taylor patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll ask the city counsel.”

  It didn’t take long for Mrs. Monroe to start yelling at Flo. “It’s easy money, you said. Just baby sit the boat, and help whoever knows the password. Nobody will ever suspect an old, retired couple of having all that dope.”

  Flo glared at the old lady. “Will you just shut up? They’re taping everything that comes out of your feeble, old mouth.”

  “This ought a get really good when the boat captain.” Taylor sat back and watched the yelling match.

  The front door buzzer sounded. “Evan, does that guy work at Subway?”

  Evan carefully studied the monitor. “No, he works for the newspaper.”

  Taylor shook his head. “Un-freakin’-believable.”

  Evan watched the reporter fidget at the front door. “What are you gonna do, Sheriff?”

  “I’m gonna let him in.” Taylor left the observation room and crossed the lobby.

  “Hello.” He opened the door. “What can I do for you?”

  The man walked inside carrying the order. “Just tell me where you want these, Sheriff.”

  “One quick second.” Taylor locked the front door, and took the sandwich platters from the guy’s hands. Then he pinned him to the wall. “Okay, why don’t you tell me what you’re doing here?”

  Sweat dripped from the reporter’s forehead. “I’m just delivering sandwiches, man.”

  “Are you sure that’s all?” Taylor eased up on him, but wouldn’t let him go.

  The reporter looked around. “Th-That’s it, man.”

  “Okay, if that’s your story.” Taylor spoke into the surveillance camera. “Evan, will you come in here please?”

  Evan came down the hall. “Whatcha need, Sheriff?”

  “Who did you say this guy is?”

  “Nels Fuquay. He works for the Morgansville Times.”

  “Thanks, Evan. Take the sandwiches with you.” Taylor turned his attention back to the reporter. “Well, Mr. Fuquay, we have a problem. I don’t have enough holding cells.”

  Fuquay was starting to shake. “What’re you gonna do?”

  “I don’t know. Perhaps you should talk to a state agent about this. Come with me please.” Taylor seated him in the lobby and handcuffed him to a chair. “I’ll be right back.”

  He poked his head through the surveillance room door. “Commander Phillips, will you please talk to Mr. Fuquay?”

  “Sure. That reporter and me are going to become best friends.”

  The back door buzzer sounded again. “Sarge and Chisolm?” Taylor stared at the monitor. “I didn’t expect this.”

  “Do you know those officers?” Phillips’ assistant asked.

  “My last supervisor, and David Clancy’s former partner.” Taylor sat down his coffee and headed to the back door.

  He opened the back door and Sergeant Marx and Officer Chisolm escorted Valerie Berinski down the hall.

  “Right here.” Taylor instructed, as he unlocked the door to interview room one.

  After Miss Berinski was seated Taylor locked the door and joined the others in the hall. “What are you doing up here, Sarge?”

  Marx grinned. “I wanted to see if you’re still a pain in the ass. Here.” He handed Taylor his notebook and a video tape. “I tried to write down every word she said. The tape’ll fill you in on what I missed.”

  Taylor observed Chisolm. “Sorry about the false pretense, man.”

  Chisolm rolled his eyes and laughed. “You’ve gotten good at that detective shit. I just thought you were horny when I gave you the name of that charter service.”

  “So no hard feelings?” Taylor raised his hand as if preparing for a handshake.

  Chisolm hesitated for a few minutes. A grin came across his face. “Hell, I can’t stay mad at a moody, little bastard like you. But Clancy is gonna have my ass for this.” Chisolm grabbed Taylor’s hand and slapped his back with the other hand.

  Taylor winced in pain, as the slap was on his sore shoulder. “I don’t see any reason for Clancy to know where that tip came from. I probably heard that story a thousand times myself, but just didn’t remember. We’ll chalk it up to precinct chatter. Let’s go to the observation room. We’re missing all the fireworks.”

  They could hear the laughter as they neared the observation room.

  “We thought you boys were going to stay out there all night,” the commander said. “It’s been total-nonstop-bitching in there since the boat captain arrived.”

  “We’ve been hearing it all the way from Coral Gables.” Marx rubbed the temple of his head. “I don’t see how Clancy dealt with that for two weeks every year. My head is killing me.”

  Taylor shook his head and put on a fresh pot of coffee. “I keep some painkillers in my desk. You want to come with me and get them, Sarge?”

  “Thanks, Taylor.” The two men walked down across the lobby to Taylor’s office. They passed a young woman reading a magazine.

  “How’s it going, Marcy?” Taylor stopped at the night shift dispatcher’s desk.

  “All the action seems to be goin’ on right here, Sheriff. Phillips told the reporter to play nice and he’d give him his story in the morning.”

  “If you want, there are some sandwiches in the observation room. Just ignore Evan’s company.”

  Marcy looked up. “You sure?”

  “Go on.” Taylor gestured toward the observation room. “I’ll watch the desk for you.”

  He unlocked his office door. “Come on in, Sarge. Take a load off.” He produced a small bottle of Aleve.

  Marx took the bottle from him. “I don’t suppose you got the other half of this kit in there, do you?”

  Taylor sat back in his seat and laced his fingers behind his head. “I pretty much gave it up.”

  “I hope she’s pretty.” Marx went to the water cooler and washed the little, blue pills down with a cup of water. “Damn that’s cold.”

  Taylor laughed. “What makes you think I had female incentive?”

  “Your wedding band’s gone.” Marx sat back down. “It’s about damn time too.”

  “Don’t read anything into this. She’s forbidden fruit.”

  “Under aged?”

  “My assignment.” He remembered how good it felt when they knocked into each other on the basketball court. Man, I can’t wait to get this over with. But over with meant moving on. There has to be a way to make this work.

  The older man’s expression softened. “I’m glad to see you looking so well.”

  “You won’t be so happy to see me after the elections are over, and I’m your problem again.”

  “We’ll see, son.” Marx patted Taylor on the shoulder. “We’ll see. You ready to catch the show?”

  They left the office, and Taylor locked the door behind him.

  Taylor and Marx went inside the observation room to catch Valerie Berinski and Mrs. Monroe screaming at LaBoe as she sat stone silent.

  About midnight, the action started settling down, as even Valerie Berinski was running out of steam.

  “Gentlemen, I have two beds and a couch at my house if anyone needs to catch a nap.” Taylor tossed the Dixie County Sheriff his house key. “It’s that ass-ugly green one with the uglier yellow trim one block down this street. I doubt there’ll be any more fun tonight. They look pretty wiped out.”

  Chisolm got up.

  “You may as well sit back down.” Marx headed back to the coffee pot. “We’re staying here with Taylor.”

  “What are you going to do with the female suspects?” Phillips asked.

  “I’m going to get some female officers to take them to the bathroom. They’ll have to spend the night in the conference room. I only have six cells, and they’re
all full.”

  Phillips scratched his head. “There’s no place for them to sleep?”

  “They’ll have to put their heads on the table. I can’t feel sorry for them. I’m not getting any sleep tonight either.”

  Chapter 25

  Marx prepared to go back to Miami. “It was nice working with you again, kid.”

  “Take care of yourself, Sarge.” Taylor shook Marx’s hand. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “Not if the state boys have any sense. You turned out to be a pretty good cop.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Taylor knew ‘pretty good’ was about as good as it gets in Marx’s eyes.

  Taylor looked at Chisolm. “Be good, or be good at it.”

  Chisolm slapped him on the back. “You too, Sheriff Taylor.”

  Taylor smiled a little. “I do believe this is the first time you’ve ever called me anything besides moody, little cuss.”

  “What can I say?” He shrugged. “You grew up.”

  “You mind if me and my boys walk out with ya’ll?” The Dixie County Sheriff asked.

  “Not at all, Sheriff.” Marx agreed.

  “How’s the fishin’ in the Atlantic?” The sheriff asked, as they headed to the door.

  Taylor had one more problem to deal with. He posted three experienced deputies outside his door and told them to let Clancy in.

  “Welcome to the Morgansville Sheriff’s Department Deputies Freeman and Rutherford. Most people around here just call me Taylor. But don’t let the lack of formality fool you, this department is top-notch. You’ve already been sworn in, so have a seat. I’m expecting someone else any second now.”

  Taylor kept his eye on the lobby. “Contrary to what you see on television, we try to make arrests as quietly as possible.”

  Clancy came strolling through the front door. “Hello, Taylor. It’s been a long time.”

  Taylor stood up. “Hello, Deputy Clancy. I’m glad you found the time to report to work. Please surrender your weapon and shield.”

  Clancy looked around, and flashed a half smile. “What’s all this?”

  Three deputies formed a line across the outside of the office door.

  “I have asked you to surrender your weapon and shield, Deputy Clancy. If you do not perform this action voluntarily, I will compel you to do so.”

  Clancy looked around as if considering his chances.

  He put his hand on his pistol.

  Taylor unsnapped the strap on his holster. “Two fingers only, please.”

  Clancy complied, then dropped his shield on Taylor’s desk. “I want my lawyer.”

  “Deputies, please take Deputy Clancy into custody and read him his rights.”

  Taylor followed them down the hall and watched as they processed Clancy and secured him to a chair in the interview room.

  They returned to the lobby.

  “Deputy Gloria Freeman, meet your new partner Deputy Carla Bowman. Deputy Jeremiah Rutherford, this is your new partner Deputy David Bonner. Train ‘em right, your lives may depend on them.”

  Taylor returned to the observation room. “I need a copy of the events that went on in the interrogation room last night, please.”

  “Right away, Sheriff. When would you like to interview the suspects?”

  “Clancy wouldn’t talk to me if I tortured him, and the others have pretty much hung themselves. The only thing that’s left to do is let the lawyers make their deals.”

  “I’ll take their statements,” said Phillips. “You go home and get some rest.”

  Taylor’s phone rang. He put the speaker on.

  “Special Agent Taylor, where are you?”

  Morris. Taylor rubbed his head. My day is complete. He looked out the glass door. Hell, a new one’s started. “I’m currently at the Morgansville Sheriff’s Station. What can I do for you, Morris?”

  “That’s Supervisory Special Agent Morris to you, Special Agent Taylor. You are supposed to be shadowing Miss Mathews, or have you forgotten?”

  “What’s wrong, Morris? Can’t you watch over more than one person at a time?” Commander Phillips asked.

  “Who is this?” Aggravation rang through, loud and clear, in Morrison’s voice.

  “This is Commander Phillips, your supervisor. While you and the others were snoring in that state owned camper last night, Taylor was supervising the round up of five suspects involved in this case.”

  “I-I didn’t know, sir.” Morris stammered over his words.

  “Since you’re so overwhelmed, do the best you can for a few more hours, and I’ll send Taylor out there. Give the entire family my apologies for the inconvenience.”

  “Yes, sir.” A beep sounded and the line went dead.

  Phillips shook his head. “How have you been handling all this?”

  “I don’t need much sleep.”

  A man whom Taylor judged to be in his late thirties entered the station. “Sorry I’m late. Who’s in charge?”

  “I’m Taylor, and this is Commander Phillips. What can we do for you Agent--”

  “Agent Steven Robeson of the FBI, and I want to talk to the person in charge of this operation, not some flunky.”

  Taylor took a step forward. “I’m FDLE Special Agent Taylor, and am currently the acting sheriff.”

  Robeson opened his briefcase and handed Taylor a thick manila envelope. “I suppose you’re the reason I was forced to drive all the way to Dade County last night.”

  “I could be. Depends on what’s in this envelope.”

  “That’s the results on the drug tests ran on a Corvette leased by David Clancy from Vortex Motors of Miami, and a fishing boat called The Fallen Lady, of Brigadoon Charters, operating out of Coral Gables. I also have a video surrendered by Brigadoon Charters, from The Fallen Lady. Now if you will excuse me, it’s been a long night, and I want to get some sleep.”

  “You’re not excused, Agent Robeson. Follow me, please.” Taylor led the FBI agent and Commander Phillips, into his office and closed the door.

  “I have the deaths of two FDLE agents on my hands.” He dropped the pictures of agents Stevenson and Morales on his desk.

  “Ten more partial, and as of yet, unidentified bodies. Two families under police protection. And a drug trafficking ring that goes from one end of the state to the other. The evidence shows six cops were behind the whole damn thing. So forgive me if I’m having a hard time caring about how tired you are. David Clancy is in the interview room. I have a history with him, and don’t think I’m the best person to conduct this interview.”

  He put all the evidence on top of the table. “You can set up in here.”

  Agent Robeson propped his feet on Taylor’s desk. “Apology accepted.”

  “It wasn’t an apology. I don’t want you near my people. And get your damn feet off my desk.” Taylor walked out the door.

  “Evan, have you finished making copies of the events from this evening?”

  “Ready and waiting.”

  He took the recordings from the interview back to Agent Robeson. “They all have lawyers, but you might be able to use something from this.”

  Robeson took the SD card. “Thanks.”

  Taylor flopped down in a chair and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he got up and rubbed his eyes. “If you need anything call this number.” He wrote down his cell phone number.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my second job.”

  *

  Taylor headed to the Mathews’ farm. The drive was normally pleasant, but today things were crashing down on him. A million voices argued inside his head. Come on, man. You’ve got to hold it together. It’s almost over. Let the suits do their thing.

  Taylor watched the family at the corral.

  John Mathews and an impressive black stallion functioned as one. As they raced behind a running steer, John flung his lasso. The braided rope seemed to float around the horns of the steer. The black stallion backed up a few steps helping the lasso become taut, whil
e the steer fought to free itself.

  Alex and Stoney weren’t slouches either. The horse positioned himself as Alex let his lariat sail under the hind feet of the struggling steer. Stoney backed up until the animal’s feet were taken out from under him, and both horses faced each other.

  “Time.” Tara Mathews called from atop Sandy.

  “Nobody move just yet.” Jess leaped from the fence and took a few pictures.

  “What are you up to?” Alex asked, as he and his father released the animal, and recoiled their ropes.

  “This is for a photography contest.” Jess took his seat on the fence. “I’m about to make you and Dad famous.”

  “It’s about time you showed up. Farrah Mathews has been asking to leave all day long.” Morris walked next to Taylor and leaned against his truck. “What was so important, it took all night?”

  Taylor watched Farrah coming up the hill from the barn. “Ask Commander Phillips.” He met her half-way up, hoping they were out of Morris’ hearing range. “I’m sorry. I was unavoidably detained.”

  “It’s okay.” She stared at his face. “You don’t look very good. Perhaps you should lay down.”

  The case was almost over. She wouldn’t be his assignment much longer. No matter what it took, he was going to find a way to make their relationship work. That is, if she would have him. “Can we go somewhere?”

  “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Taylor fought to keep his composure. Exhaustion and loneliness were overpowering him. He needed some time alone with a friend. The case was down to loose ends. Decisions were going to have to be made. “Let’s just go.”

  “Let me grab my basketball.” She went inside the house.

  Taylor leaned against his truck staring at the front door of the house. Her form was the only thing he wanted to look at.

  Morris walked up to him. “I see you found time to watch Miss Mathews.”

  Taylor quit smoking two years ago. Now, he craved a cigarette as long as his truck. “She wants to practice.”

  “Are you sure that’s all she wants to do?”

  Taylor slammed him against the truck. “Watch your mouth.”