A Billy Jo McCabe Mystery Box Set Books 7 - 9

Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Mark hated bureaucracy and red tape. He took a swallow of his coffee, hearing the phone ring in the background. The new dispatcher, Lacy Young, reminded him so much of Gail that he thought they could be sisters. They were the same age, and her confidence in handling the phones and any problems made his job easier. Then there was the new deputy, twenty-two-year-old Elisha Fields, her dark hair pinned back, on the phone, taking a report about what he thought was a stolen bike.

There was a knock on his open door, and he glanced up from the weekly report he was reading to see Carmen in blue jeans and a purple T-shirt, her purse over her shoulder.

“Chief, I’m heading out,” she said, wearing the same expression she always did. She really did hide everything she was feeling.

“You take those extra few days and drive safe,” he said.

She only nodded, then stepped inside his office. He could see she had something on her mind. “I will, thanks.” She closed his door, and Mark leaned back in his chair, hearing the squeak, realizing she was a little on edge. “I wanted to thank you for trying to get me off that no-fly list. You think I have anything to worry about, being labeled a terrorist? I mean, I know how it works, Mark…”

“Hey, it didn’t say ‘terrorist,’ it said ‘potential threat’—and it’s ridiculous. I’m going to keep working on it. I’ll get it squared away. You just go and enjoy yourself. The agent I talked to said it happens more than people realize. Just relax and enjoy the drive. You never know; by the time you get back, it may be sorted out.”

She lifted a brow, and he knew she didn’t a believe a word he’d said. Neither did he. “That’s wishful thinking,” she said. “Even I know that someone’s clerical error has just basically f****d over my life.”

He leaned forward, his forearms on his desk. “Carmen, I promise you it’ll get sorted out. The FBI agent I spoke with yesterday, Agent Kruger, is aware now, and he told me to just keep calling everyone, writing everyone, to be noisy and not take no for an answer. People who throw their hands in the air and get frustrated, thinking it can’t be fixed, are why this happened to you. I know it’s a pain in the ass, but no one is going to come in here looking for you.”

He leaned back in his chair as he heard the front door and spotted Billy Jo. His dog, Lucky, walked over to her, and she made a fuss over him. Carmen glanced over her shoulder to Billy Jo, her expression still doubting.

“Thanks for trying. It’s appreciated,” she said, then turned to leave just as Billy Jo approached.

“I’m not interrupting…?” Billy Jo said.

Carmen shook her head and gestured to Mark. “Nope. See you, boss,” she said. Then she was gone.

Billy Jo took in Carmen and then dragged her gaze back to him, gesturing. “Everything okay?”

He took in her long red coat, which had to be new, black capris, and sleeveless turtleneck underneath. Damn, did she look good. The freckles splashed over her nose and face just made her who she was.

“Yeah, she’s just leaving for some much-needed time away,” he said.

Billy Jo closed the door, walked around his desk toward him, and leaned against it. His hand went to her thigh, running down over her leg, and she was right there, so close to him.

“So what’s up?” he said.

“I know you’re really distracted by the Carmen thing. I would be surprised if you got it sorted out.”

He didn’t say anything, knowing she had something on her mind. “Can’t do anything to resolve Carmen’s situation right now except keep calling anyone and everyone who could fix it. But I don’t have the patience to deal with being continually put on hold or told to call someone else. I get one name and then another until I’m sent right back where I started. So distract me. You can’t be done for the day. It’s not even…” He lifted his watch to see it was ten after three. “A late coffee break?”

She stared at him, unsmiling. “I can call my dad, fill him in on Carmen’s situation. You know he still has the contacts, being who he is, to at least get people off their asses and push you past the roadblocks being set in front of you.”

He wanted to say no, but he wasn’t a fool. Sometimes it was about knowing that one person who could understand the bureaucracy and fix something. “You wouldn’t mind?”

She angled her head and really looked at him before sliding off his desk. “Of course not. It will save you banging your head against the wall and getting nowhere. My dad can make a few calls and then a few more and will accomplish way more in a day than you would in six months.”

He knew she was right, and maybe that was what pissed him off more than anything. He lifted his hand, and she stood and strode over to the door. “So that’s it?”

Her hand was on the door, and she pulled it open, holding the frame. “Just taking something off your plate instead of adding to it. I’ll see you at home?”

Damn, she was perfect. He already felt better. He pushed back his chair, followed her to where she stood in the doorway, and ran his hands over her shoulders and down. “You’re perfect, I love you, and thanks.”

He leaned down and kissed her, letting his thumbs brush over her cheeks. She didn’t smile, and he could sense something else. He closed the door again and took in the surprise in her expression.

“Okay, tell me what’s going on,” he said, turning to lean against his desk, crossing his arms, waiting. He knew her so well, when something bothered her or was weighing on her. A case, a kid, anything.

“You have enough on your plate,” she said.

He stared at her and pulled in a breath. “Actually, no, I don’t. If you recall, you just took the main issue off it. Come on, what is it?”

She made a face, then reached into her purse, pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to him.

“Okay what is this?” he said, unfolding the paper and taking in a list of names. She never played coy. “What is this, Billy Jo?”

She didn’t look away. In her blue eyes, which were always so serious, he could see that something really was bothering her. “Remember last night when you came by the office and I showed you that check?”

He stared at her, trying to remember what she was talking about. “That check you found in a file?”

She nodded, then stepped closer to him and tapped the paper he was still holding. “The check was made out to Deena Rae but was signed over to Link Stone. He was the social worker here about a year ago. I asked Pam about it this morning, and she didn’t know anything. Deena Rae is a fourteen-year-old girl in the custody of CPS. I made a few calls to the homes she was supposed to be in, and each one said she had been moved. Those names are kids Link Stone was the social worker of record for, and each was getting money from Child Protective Services…”

He shrugged. “Is that unusual?”

She rolled her eyes, something she did when she was frustrated. There was so much about Billy Jo that he knew well, and he realized she never let anything go. “No, payments to kids aren’t unusual. It depends on the situation, but they mostly go to older kids who are in special situations. It’s something a social worker has to apply for. It mostly goes to the family the child is in care of, for food and clothes. Those names are all kids Link Stone advocated sending money to. Because there are so many, I pulled the files, and I was left wondering why an eight-year-old would need a check, or a three-month-old, who wouldn’t even have a bank account. I called up the accounting department to find that they were cashed. Every one of those names had monthly checks issued, including the three-month-old boy, Edgardo Navarro, who died in CPS custody two years ago.”

Okay, she had his attention now.

“You sure about this?” he said.

She reached for the paper and took it from him. “Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t be here bugging you about this, knowing everything you have on your plate, if I didn’t think there was a problem.”

“And it’s not some clerical mistake? I mean, CPS isn’t exactly known for running an organized agency.”

“It could be a mistake, of course. They make them all the time. But that’s not the point. The point is that there are too many names, and although I haven’t dug into all of them, with the ones I have, I’m seeing something I don’t like.”

Damn. Kids and animals were the issues he couldn’t turn his back on. “What do you want me to do?”

She pulled in her lower lip and bit it, then flicked her shoulder-length hair behind her ears. “There has to be a paper trail. After putting in a call to Grant, I found out Link Stone took a new job in Cody, Wyoming, but when I called the CPS in Cody, they didn’t have anyone by that name working there. Can you go into your database and find out where he is? Just a hunch I have, but if I’m right, I hope there’s some explanation for this.”

He already knew where this was going, and he hoped she was wrong too. “You think he took money from a bunch of vulnerable kids?”

She pulled her arms over her chest, the paper still in her hand. She was so close to him as she shrugged. “I hope I’m wrong, Mark, but that feeling I have in the pit of my stomach that he did it…well, it’s there, and it makes me sick.”

He stood up and slid his hand over her arm, moving her back as he walked around his desk and pulled open the top drawer to reach for his keys and then his jean jacket on the back of his chair.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he shrugged it on.

“We’re going back to your office, where you’re going to pull all these files and we’re going to go through them. Billy Jo, I swear, I hope you’re wrong.”

She tucked the paper back in her purse and flicked those blue eyes up to him. “So do I, but I already know I’m not,” she said. Then she pulled open the door, and he followed her out of his office.

“Lucky, come on,” he called to his dog, who was eating kibble. He looked over to his new deputy, who watched him with wary dark eyes. “Elisha, I want you to do a search on a Link Stone. He used to be a social worker on the island a year ago. Find out where he is now, what he owns, and where he banks, and then call me with everything.”

She was scribbling. Billy Jo was watching him, holding the door open.

“Lacy’s got my cell phone,” he continued. “Call me if anything comes up.”

“Will do, Chief,” was all Elisha said.

He followed Billy Jo out the door, his dog looking between them, and said, “I’ll follow you to your office. You know if you’re right, this is really bad.”

She pulled open her driver’s door, then glanced away, as if thinking, and back to him. “I know, and if it’s true, the thing is that CPS will never want the truth to get out.”

Damn! Why couldn’t this island be a sleepy, quiet place where nothing ever happened? But he already knew the answer. Sleepy, quiet places were the perfect places to keep anything and everything under the radar.