The Shack series

Chapter 15

I blinked. Maybe he wasn't a total loser. "Really."

"Yeah. Let's just say if Mrs. Ramirez offers you a brownie, think twice before taking it."

"Good to know."

"So you're not arresting Mooky?" Delaney raised one eyebrow comically.

"Nah, he's harmless. He'll probably hide out a couple days in his grow trailer waiting for the DEA to bust his door down, then go just back to work. His uncle owns Casa del Taco Grande, so he has a hard time getting fired."

We were still laughing when a stream of black SUVs poured into the yard with police lights. Half a dozen State police officers swarmed the yard, guns out, with a couple plainclothes agents directing them.

I held my hands up cautiously. I was pretty sure that I hadn't done anything lately that warranted a shootout. Delaney followed my lead with a cautious sidelong glance that earned a nod from me.

One of the plainclothes guys walked straight to me, he barely gave a glance at the Sheriff. He looked like a stiff necked prick. "Lester Dawes?"

"That's me."

"You're wanted for questioning in the attempted murder of Mrs. Charlotte Morris."

"I Damnin' wish." I grimaced and squeezed my eyes shut for a second. "s**t, you said 'attempted,' didn't you? Goddammit."

Two of the uniforms opened the trailer and I looked at the Sheriff. "You see a search warrant?"

"Not yet." He glared at the guy who'd addressed me. "Mind telling what you're doing here and maybe showing a little Damning professional courtesy?"

"Special Agent Stein, Virginia State Police. I have a 'Stop and Hold' for Lester Dawes. His ex-wife was shot four times in her home last night and we have reason to believe he was present."

I raised an eyebrow at the Sheriff. He knew damn well where I'd been. Just like every Thursday night, I'd been at the free clinic with a dozen witnesses, including two of his deputies who'd brought in a vagrant for treatment. I shook my head, I really wanted to see what was going on, what Charlotte was accusing me of this Damning time. Maybe I could get her tossed in jail for a change.

The Sheriff went along with me. "Well, Special Agent Stein, how about we walk over there for just a bit and have a discussion. Or do want me to call every deputy in the county over here right now, maybe get on CNN?"

Stein scowled irritably then looked over at one of his men. "Give me a second. Cuff them."

Delaney's eyes narrowed and she tensed as one of the police stepped towards her. The Sheriff glanced between her and me. "Wait a Damning minute. Do you have a 'Stop and Hold' on her, too?"

"No, but..."

"Jesus Christ, she's fourteen. You don't have a Stop and Hold for her, she doesn't appear to have done anything, and you're just going to roll her up? Damning i***t. She stays with me and I'll get have Sheree come get her."

For a moment Stein looked like he was going to do it anyway and I braced myself, gauging the distance to Delaney as she tensed up. I wasn't sure what she was going to do, but I had a feeling everybody on the lot was going to get caught up in a real shitstorm in a few seconds.

The Sheriff pushed between Delaney and the approaching officer, holding up his hand mike. "I mean it. This is about to end up all over the funny papers. He takes one more step, I'm putting out an emergency all-call and this turns into a three ring circus."

Stein glared at him. "You should be helping me out here, not putting your job in jeopardy."

"My job? I'm doing my Damning job. I don't work for the State, I work for the people of this county, and they'd take a damn dim view of me letting some asshole cart off a minor with no cause."

The Agent must have finally decided the Sheriff was serious because he waved his officer back. From the seething hate in Delaney's eyes, I figured he'd just gotten lucky. We probably all had.

*****

I found myself secured in an interview room for the next few hours. Only the occasional deputy sticking his or her head in to check to see if I needed anything broke the monotony.

At least it was monotony until the Sheriff walked grimly in the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. "We've got a problem"

Before he could continue, Agent Stein slammed the door back open and stomped towards me and the Sheriff.

"Where the hell is the little b***h?" His voice was odd, probably because of the b****y paper towels he was holding up to his nose.

"Where's who?"

"You know who it is. Delaney Morris."

"No idea who that would be."

"The girl we picked up this morning with you. You know damn well who I'm talking about."

'You mean my daughter? Delaney Dawes?"

He paused, gauging me for a second. "Okay. Delaney Dawes."

"Not a Damning clue. Last time I saw her some asshole State Criminal Investigation Division agent shithead—that'd be you—was hassling her, and the Sheriff here said he was going to call Sheree to come get her. I've been sitting here chained to a Damning table ever since." I looked at him. "I'm guessing, from that Damning broken nose, you talked to her again."

The Sheriff put his hand on my shoulder. "While I was trying to call Sheree, the agent here apparently thought he'd go and ask her some questions."

"Without me or Sheree there? Isn't that Damning illegal?"

"I was going to ask her who to call if we couldn't reach this Sherry person." Agent Stein said it woodenly, just in case they were recording this; he knew nobody in the room remotely believed that line of s**t.

"Sheree. And, let me guess. You're gonna claim she just attacked you for no reason?"

He fell silent and the Sheriff stared at him. "The recorder wasn't on in that interview room. Deputy Hyatt let him in to see her under the impression he needed to get contact information from her, but insisted on the interview room door being open since Delaney is a minor. Which is why Deputy Hyatt still has a job. At some point during the questioning, something went wrong and the agent here ended up with a broken nose and missing car keys."

I laughed out loud. "Let me guess. The agent's car is now missing."

The Sheriff suppressed a grin. "We pulled the tracker data and it led to the Salvage yard, but we couldn't find it. The tracker data says it never left the yard."

The agent glared at me. "The little b***h must have turned off the tracker somehow. We'll find her, we have a state wide APB out."

I shook my head slowly. "You really pissed her off, Dickhead. She was having a great day and you just had to go and Damn it all up. She's got a real bad temper. I wouldn't bother with the APB on your Damning car."

"That car is state property." His attempt to sound important was kind of ruined by the broken-nose nasal tone.

I glanced over at the Sheriff. "Did the salvage yard smell like gasoline when you went back to look for his car?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah, real strong now that you mention it. I thought she might have spilled some putting gas in the car or something."

"She'd have been in a hurry, no time to drain the fluids or strip it like we're supposed to. We'll probably be fined for that."

Agent Stein looked lost, but I could see the Sheriff catch on. He started to turn red, trying not to laugh. He closed his eyes. "Damn."

I chuckled and looked over at the agent. "Hope you didn't leave anything important in your car, Cupcake."

Stein was starting to look pissed. "What the Damn are you talking about?"

"Try looking in the car crusher, asshole."

His eyes shot open. "That little bitch."

I leaned towards him as far as the cuffs would let me. "Call her that one more time, asshole. Call my daughter a b***h again. Do it. One. More. Damning. Time."

He started to say something and thought better of it, pulling back and walking out.

The Sheriff looked at me. "They've gotten a judge to sign off on transferring you, claiming the attack on your wife has some kind of jurisdictional precedence. They also say they found cocaine in your office trailer."

"The office trailer? First Damning good news I've had all day. Tell Sheree to get in touch with Tara and check the inside security cameras."

He kept an eye on the door. "I don't like this."

"Me either." I thought for a second. "I thought this was Charlotte playing games, but now I'm not sure. Can you have your deputies search me and take all my clothes, issue me a set?"

"Good idea, that way they can't arrange to 'find' something on you later."

I nodded. "Delaney will probably head for Sheree, but she's not a Damning i***t, she sees a cop or anyone she doesn't know, she'll be a ghost."

*****

It took four hours for them to complete the transfer to the larger jail and as soon as I arrived, I was processed in by a couple of Correctional Officers who did their job professionally and thoroughly. I was glad I wasn't carrying anything.

The bigger C.O. stared at my arm. "Somalia. Nigeria. Uganda. Kenya... shit."

"What's wrong?" The brown haired C.O. looked from me to him.

"His tattoo. 'De Oppresso Liber.' With deployment bars under it." He eyed me warily. "5th Group?"

"Yeah. Medic. Thirteen years with Group, seventeen years under SOCOM."

"I did five years in Ranger Regiment. You're not going to make any trouble are you?"

"I won't go looking for it."

He understood immediately. "Shit."

The other C.O. still looked confused. "What? He's a medic right?"

"In Special Operations, that just means he knows how to sew you together after he Damns you up." He sighed. "I'll get the word to the would-be hard cases to stay backed off if you promise not to start any s**t yourself."

"I'll keep to myself. I just want to be left alone."

*****

I'd arrived just in time for lunch. I sat alone, eating a very forgettable beef stew, just warm enough to not fully congeal and a slice of bread. The orange "safety spork" probably tasted better.

A couple of prisoners at a table not too far from mine slowly got up and headed my way. From the North County Wild Boys tattoos on their necks, I figured at least it wouldn't be a boring discussion.