He could smell the chemical mixture even before the trailer came in sight. The strong waft of ammonia and toluene was a dead giveaway in the production of the drug. But that was why this property was so isolated and Stan had been careful to dispose of the empty containers…at least he had before he got himself shot.
“Stupid son of a bitch,” Barnes mumbled under his breath. “No good brat fucking asshole.”
Family relationships aside, why had he put up with that idiot’s perversity? Well, that was a stupid question. Stan was the best meth cooker in four states and they had made a pile of money. Money he had needed to get re-elected Sheriff last time and money he was planning to use in the next election cycle.
Gone just like that…stupid son of a bitch.
Barnes pulled the old pickup truck in under the trees about a hundred yards from the trailer. He didn’t want to get too close or that smell would linger in the upholstery for days. He was dressed in his ratty hunting clothes since that was his excuse for being out here.
His wife encouraged these little trips into the woods and said it was good exercise for him. The only exercise he wanted from her was in bed, and that hadn’t been very good in the past six months. The marriage was turning sour and maybe after the election he’d dump this one and find himself a new companion.
Now where was Leon? The young black man was blind in one eye, the result of an explosion at the former lab he worked in. A careless accident that Stan had said would keep the guy focused on what he was doing now. Still, Barnes didn’t know if he could trust the man.
He heard coughing from out back of the trailer as he approached. “Leon…is that you?” Barnes called out.
Leon appeared around the side of the trailer dressed in white coveralls with a breathing mask hanging around his neck. Stupid idiot was smoking a cigarette which Barnes knew would set off an explosion if the fumes got near.
“Hey, Sheriff…just finished with this last batch,” Leon said.
Well, at least that would be something good, Barnes thought. He stopped about fifty feet from the trailer and let Leon walk over.
“You’re taking a chance with that cigarette,” Barnes said.
“Oh I got the trailer all aired out and the containers are double sealed. No volatile fumes around here today. You know I’m careful.”
Leon had been Stan’s choice as a lab partner. Ex-cons seemed to stick together like that. But Leon had been busted for drugs and done his five years…at least he wasn’t a pervert.
“So how much product do we have on hand today?” Barnes asked.
“About three hundred fifty grams, I recon. I weighed it out into one ounce containers for your suppliers.”
That was worth about thirty thousand dollars, or close to it, Barnes knew. At least Leon was proving his worth now that Stan was gone. It wasn’t going to be easy to keep up production with only one man running the lab, and demand was going up.
“Well you’ve done good, Leon. I figure we’ll get that next batch of chemicals in about a week and you can start cooking again. Is there anything you need?”
“I may drive over to Front River for some supplies before we start up again. I need to fill some of the propane tanks while I’m there.”
Barnes pulled out his wallet and counted out a thousand dollars which he handed to Leon.
“You’ll get paid once this batch moves, this is just a little something to tide you over,” Barnes said.
Leon smiled. “Mighty kind of you, Sheriff.”
“Just stay out of trouble. You won’t be in my county if anything needs fixing.”
“No sir, Leon is no troublemaker. We’ve got a good business relationship going here and I am not about to fuck that up, no way. You bring me the chemicals and three days later you got a new batch of goodies.”
“Has anyone been up here besides you?” Barnes asked.
“Up here? We won’t have anyone in these hills until hunting season, and that’s five months off. You chose a right good spot for this lab, not a soul in sight.”
“Okay, Leon. You enjoy your week off and I’ll be back with your chemicals. Come on, let’s load up,” Barnes said.
The crystals had been crushed to powder and were sealed in airtight baggies, placed in watertight containers and set in the bottom of a cooler. Barnes poured a bag of ice on top and tossed in a case of beer cans. Then they lifted it into the bed of the pickup.
“There ya go, Sheriff,” Leon said. “See you next week.”
Barnes followed the potholed roadway back down towards the county road. He was surprised that Leon had come through with this shipment. Perhaps Stan had been right about the guy, he was dependable. It was too bad the same couldn’t be said about Stan.
Everyone in the family knew about Stan’s past, but then the Little family had more than a few skeletons in the closet. Barnes had been surprised when Stan reappeared in town and instead of hiding out in the woods he had come right in to the Sheriff’s office.
“I have a business deal I want to talk about,” Stan had said. Barnes had been put off by the whole idea of manufacturing drugs until Stan had said they could make half a million in cash every year. The sum seemed astronomical at the time so Barnes listened.
Stan had set the trailer on a piece of rural land Barnes had owned for years. It had only been used when he had the desire to go hunting…well, that wasn’t exactly true. His twenty acres backed onto state parkland and was as isolated as could be. No one would ever discover the bodies up there.
Being Sheriff meant that there were the occasional incidents. The last big one involved two illegals, a stolen car and a gunfight. The trunk of their car was loaded with marijuana and cash, but Barnes didn’t know that until the men were dead.
He wanted the cash and the only way to get it was to make the bodies vanish. No report, no foul, and he added the eighty thousand dollars to his war chest. The illegals were buried way back in the woods on his property never to be mentioned again.
Each of his deputies was flawed in some way but Barnes treated them like his kids as long as they obeyed every order. This incident at the jail with the boy had really pissed him off and Marsh had borne the brunt of his anger. But the state boys had outfoxed him once again.
The whole arrest and investigation of the events surrounding Stan’s death had been a cluster fuck. Barnes was afraid the boy might know about the drug business and tell that damn lawyer enough to cause problems, but nothing had happened so far. Perhaps it was for the best that the boy was out of his jailhouse. Barnes would have been hard pressed to explain the kid’s death.
At least the lab could continue to provide a source of income. The cost of chemicals was minimal, although some of them were hard to come by in large quantities. They had started small, made a few mistakes along the way but were quickly in business.
Barnes became a key behind the scenes partner, but a most necessary one. He managed to find them a steady source of the basic cold medications from which crystal meth was distilled. As the drug had become popular the sales of ephedrine or pseudoephedrine used in the manufacture had come under close scrutiny.
But Barnes had criminal records on several pharmacists who had less than stellar backgrounds and they were only too happy to cooperate. Stan had insisted he could find them a market but Barnes had the answer to that as well, they sold the product through the Road Rats.
Biker gangs were often comprised of less than solid citizens, but this bunch were already dealing heavily in the marijuana and cocaine business. Crystal meth was just another facet of drug dealing and Barnes knew at least one member would gladly take a cut of the pie.
Thomas “Cutthroat” Peavey had never met the Sheriff and if Barnes was lucky he never would. The Road Rats were a pretty large social organization which donated to charity and held weekend motorcycle gatherings in summer. All that was a pretty good front for the drug business they ran.
Barnes tried to give them some leeway since they rarely came to town and kept their compound law abiding up in the far northeast part of the county. But Peavey had a criminal record and the Sheriff’s department was well aware of their activities.
The Rats sold their drugs all over the northwestern states and made their deliveries by motorcycle. Getting them involved was fairly easy. Barnes had Stan make the approach and leave a sample. Included in the package was a prepaid cell phone and Peavey was told to call a preprogramed number if he wanted to do business.
Barnes answered the phone and Peavey said he could move several hundred grams a month. He had no idea he was talking to the Sheriff and so the deal was made. They settled on three hundred gram deliveries for twenty-five thousand in cash. The only thing that remained was to work out the details of delivery.
It had to be simple so Barnes told Peavey they would have to trust one another to make the exchange or the drugs would go to someone else. It worked the first time and had been working for four years, why mess with a good thing.
Barnes drove into town and parked the pickup in the back row of the county impound lot which was filled with derelict cars and trucks that had been towed. His truck had plates but then it was registered in his wife’s maiden name and Peavey couldn’t use that info if he tried.
He shifted the cooler into the cab and placed it on the floor before locking the doors. The key went on top of the right front tire before Barnes walked away. Tomorrow he would return to the truck and remove the money stashed under the seat. He didn’t care to know how they got into the fenced yard but they always did. Peavey had never tried to cheat him and that was probably good for the both of them.
Barnes walked across the lot and around to the front of the county garage. His patrol car was sitting out front all washed and polished the way he liked it.
“All set to go, Sheriff,” The mechanic told him.
“Thanks, buddy.”
Barnes slid behind the wheel and smiled. The interior was immaculate and had that new car smell. He wasn’t sure how they did that but the shop knew he liked it. He picked up the microphone on his radio and made the call.
“Dispatch,” he said.
“Ten-four, Sheriff. How can I help you?”
“I’m headed home,” Barnes said. “Anything happening?”
“House fire over in Appleton, we have a unit onsite. Minor accident on the Interstate near Boswell, two units onsite. Otherwise, just routine patrols.”
“Ten-four, Carol. I’ll be home all evening.”
“Have a good one, Sheriff. Dispatch out.”
Barnes smiled. His night would be better if he was home in bed with Carol instead of his wife. Oh well, at least he got to look at her most of the day when he was in the office. He started the car and headed home.
* * * * * *
Bill knew he would have to reschedule his appointment with the prosecutor, today if possible. He’d slept well but as usual awoke early and immediately wondered how Tim was doing. Clients were usually something he tried not to think about on his own time but this one was different.
He showered and dressed, choosing his tie carefully. Image was important to a lawyer in court because juries paid attention to details since that was their job. Bill wouldn’t have a court date for at least a week, and only if Isakson decided to keep Peterson as a client.
But meeting Barbara Lowe for the first time meant presenting himself well even if she was wearing her cowl and pointed witch’s hat. He didn’t expect she would give him much on their first meeting so he would have to file for discovery. He could be assured that she would try to make him feel like a loser at the starting gate.
These aggressive women involved with the law always seemed to have a chip on their shoulder. Men had dominated the field for so long this was nothing more than payback. But although most straight men might feel emasculated by a female frontal attack, that wasn’t so for a gay man.
Bill made his way down the back stairs and walked around the corner to Morton’s Deli. It was only a few minutes after seven but he knew the place would be packed because the courthouse was across the street. This restaurant was neutral ground for lawyers before court and it was considered bad manners to discuss current cases over coffee.
There were no empty tables so Bill took a seat at the counter and ordered breakfast. This gave him a few minutes to walk around and shake hands with the other lawyers, but then he saw Eli Parker over in the corner and decided it was time enough for a quick chat.
Eli was sipping his coffee and awaiting his toasted bagel. He nodded at Bill and motioned him over.
“How did it go yesterday?” Eli asked.
“Smooth sailing once the state boys made a shift in the wind.”
Eli was an old sailor and he often peppered his conversations with nautical talk. He smiled at Bill’s analogy.
“But I came home to find this,” Bill said, handing over the note Barnes had left him.
Eli read the words and looked up. “Do you feel threatened?”
“No, not really. I’ll just add this to my collection,” Bill said. “My client is safe and sound for the moment and I alerted the people at Barnhill.”
“Good…so the next move is yours,” Eli said.
Bill leaned in over the table to keep his voice from carrying. “I’m going to hire an investigator to look into our nasty friend’s activities. Notes like this only mean he’s running scared and I would bet the boy knows something to cause that fear. Whatever it is, Evan will figure it out.”
Eli nodded as the waitress brought his bagel smothered in cream cheese. It was time for Bill to back away.
“Thanks, Eli…I’ll keep you informed.”
“Call anytime…I mean that,” Eli said.
“I know you do…enjoy your breakfast.”
“I’ll have to run an extra twenty laps because of all this cream cheese, damnit.”
Bill smiled and returned to his place at the counter. His western omelet and wheat toast were served and washed down with two cups of coffee. Breakfast was the most important meal of his day since the timing of the other meals was always iffy. Bill paid his check and left a three dollar tip before walking back around the corner to the office.
It wasn’t quite eight o’clock but Sonny was in her office and the coffee was made. Bill helped himself and made his way to her door.
“Good Morning…how did it go yesterday?” She asked.
“Score two points for the home team,” Bill replied and then handed her the note.
Sonny didn’t have to ask as she handed it back. “Bastard.”
“Big time. Have you met Ed Avery?”
“Avery…the PI?”
“Why don’t we see if he’s busy and invite him over for lunch,” Bill said.
“You’re going on the attack?”
Bill waved the note. “He started it.”
“This is a pro bono case, Bill. How much financial leeway do we have?” Sonny asked.
“Isakson will help but I’ll foot the bill if necessary.” He paused for a moment and then shook his head. “We’re missing something, Sonny, something big. Barnes didn’t want that boy moved out of his clutches. Tim may not remember all the details but he knows something vital.”
“Do you think Evan will dig it out?” Sonny asked.
“Probably, but will he recognize it when it happens? I know lawyers aren’t supposed to see the raw medical data but Evan records his sessions and I’m going to ask him if he’ll make an exception in this case.”
“So what are you going to ask Avery to do?”
“We know the public persona the Sheriff has, but we need to know what goes on behind our backs. Ed is a tough cookie but this could be very dangerous. I need to call the prosecutor’s office this morning and sit down with Lowe.”
Sonny pulled a folder out of her desk drawer and handed it over.
“What’s this?” Bill asked.
“Your motion for discovery in the case of Witherspoon, Timothy A. I pulled that together last night before I left.”
“You’re brilliant, did I tell you that?” Bill said.
“All the time…and thank you. I’ll call Avery while you buzz the wicked witch. Maybe she’ll be finished feeding small helpless puppies to her flying monkeys and allow you to enter her domain.”
Bill laughed. “Why do I feel you know her only too well?”
“She’s a type, a poor type but familiar to girls like me trying to enter the profession. Maybe she’ll hitch her star to Barnes and they’ll both go down in flames. We can only hope.”
Bill chuckled and left so she could make the call. It was just after eight-thirty when he called Lowe’s office for an appointment. He got the same clerk and figured he would get the run around, but lo…she said the ADA wanted to see him right away. He could have thirty minutes before court started.
Once the immediate shock wore off Bill grabbed his files and shoved them in his briefcase. He was out the door and across the street in only minutes. He took the stairs and walked into the prosecutor’s office.
“Mr. Metzger…Ms. Lowe is free, go right on in,” The clerk said.
It didn’t hit him until that moment that he might be walking into an ambush. Barbara Lowe was sitting behind her desk, but on the couch against the wall sat Donald Meeks, the District Attorney and her boss.
“Good Morning, Bill,” Meeks said.
“Don, good to see you again,” Bill replied.
They were acquainted in a combative sort of way going back to the Sebastian case. The man was tough but fair and now it remained to be seen how well he would support his new assistant.
“Bill, this is Barbara Lowe. I just stopped in to make the introductions and get you two started off on the right footing. I’m not sure what happened yesterday afternoon over at the jail but Barnes is already complaining about your treatment of his deputies.”
Bill held up a hand. “Hold on there. I did nothing but accompany the state police when they served that transfer document.” Then he looked at Barbara. “I was a little concerned that the boy was seen by a mental health professional in the jailhouse without my prior knowledge.
“You understand how little we know about crimes like this and motivation will become a part of courtroom testimony for both sides. Sending the boy to Barnhill for observation and evaluation is all part of the game plan. I need the information they can provide for a good defense and I’m sure through your own writ of discovery that you will have the same opinion when the reports come out.”
“That’s fair,” Don said. “Barnes seems to think you strong armed his deputies and violated the rules of transfer in an after-hours situation.”
“He wasn’t there and he’s full of himself,” Bill said. “I wasn’t aware their office hours ended before four o’clock, that’s just plain absurd. But the actions of the state police were in response to the deputies’ refusal to obey a court order in a timely fashion, and then the idiots put a hand on their guns. Barnes is just lucky the state boys didn’t arrest the entire jail staff. What a mess that would have created.”
“If that’s what happened then Barnes has the responsibility. We all know his men don’t do a lot of independent thinking…Thank God,” Don said.
He stood up and retrieved his coffee cup from the table. Bill and Barbara stood up out of respect for the position of DA and Don shook Bill’s hand.
“I’ll leave you two to work on details. The docket is backed up all to hell so this is going to take some months to get to trial. I don’t imagine the defense will mind, will you?”
“No sir,” Bill said. “It’s going to take time for all the facts to surface and be evaluated.”
“See you later, Barbara.” And Don was gone.
Barbara resumed her seat and moved some files. Bill sat back down and opened his briefcase.
“I’m sure you expected this, but here’s the motion for discovery,” Bill said, and laid the typed pages on the desk in front of her.
“Fine, I’ll have the clerk pull together what we have. Didn’t you get copies of the arrest report?”
“I did, and it’s filled with wonderful words and very little factual material. I can’t imagine Barnes released everything he had. I don’t even have the coroner’s report or the autopsy results.”
“Then you’ll get that, it wasn’t very surprising…two deaths by gunshot wounds.”
“Any mention of the drugs involved?” Bill asked.
“What drugs?” Barbara asked.
“The Sheriff’s deputies questioned their suspect during the arrest and the boy admitted the killings. But he also told them he was drugged by Stan Little and raped. I got no information that the county had the boy examined, did a rape kit or took blood samples to test for drugs. Did any of that happen?”
“Why would his step-father drug the boy and rape him?”
“Because he’s an unregistered sex offender. I think Sheriff Barnes has been tampering with the records to protect his family. It seems Stan Little was his cousin. You better read this,” Bill said, and slid a copy of Stan’s criminal record across her desk.
Barbara looked like she was about to explode as she scanned the documents and Bill was waiting for the rant to begin, but instead she sighed and set down the documents. Her eyes settled on Bill and she gave him a grim smile.
“I’m not used to the sheriffs of small counties. Did Barnes actually think he could get away with covering this up?”
“I don’t know what he’s covering up,” Bill said. “There’s one other issue I have under investigation. Timothy claims Stan Little was never married to his mother and we’re trying to find a marriage license. I don’t know why Barnes insisted the boy was Stan’s step-son. Something like that will only muddy the waters in court.”
“I’m sure you’ll find an answer before we get to trial. As to the other issues, I am going to ride the medical examiner’s office right out of town if they didn’t do the proper tests. Honestly, there is no mention of drugs in my files on the case.”
“Stan can be exhumed if necessary, but I would think the coroner must have some blood or tissue samples in his possession. The case is still open and I don’t know how long they keep those kinds of things. Timothy will be tested…I can assure you of that. I don’t know if there will be any residual results, it’s been nearly a month.”
“Why was Mr. Little registered as a sex offender in Ohio and not here, that’s a Federal mandate?”
“A mandate carried out by local law enforcement. You’ll have to ask Barnes,” Bill said.
Barbara shook her head. “Well I know better than to put him on the stand in court where you can ask him that question. I hope his deputies took copious notes because Barnes’ testimony is useless to the prosecution.”
Bill nodded. “I’m glad you see it that way. I’m not averse to winning a case but I don’t like blindsiding the prosecution with negative testimony from witnesses on their side.”
Barbara smiled for the first time. “Don’t tell me I have finally met an honest lawyer?”
“Who…me?” Bill said. “I don’t do courtroom theatrics if that’s what you’re asking. In this case we have a fifteen year old boy who is facing the rest of his life in prison because of mental anguish caused at home. No one deserved to die in this situation. Timothy could have been given relief somewhere along the line.”
“He never reported the rape? How is that possible?”
“There are too many loose ends in this case. I’ve met my client twice and didn’t think the environment was conducive to asking the hard questions. I’m going to leave the in-depth analysis to the medical professionals. So far I can tell the boy’s emotions seem locked out of his mind which means there is a good deal of trauma in his thinking.
“I know we have all developed this image of adolescent killers as drug abusing, violent heavy metal music lovers, but not Timothy. Something pushed him over the edge and I intend to find out what did that.”
“It still comes out as two counts of first degree felony murder, Bill…may I call you Bill?”
“Please. Look, if Stan Little drugged and sexually assaulted the boy I’d say we have extenuating circumstances for that murder. If Timothy shot his mother for other reasons we have yet to discover what they are. The crime scene facts will become important and I’m not sure the county followed through on that investigation very well.
“I’m going to hire an expert in forensic investigation. I really have no choice at this point. But as Don said, there is still time before trial. I hope I don’t have to ask for an extension but Barnes has already laid the groundwork for me to get that time with his inept handling of the case.”
Barbara nodded. “I will concede that point and I’ll make sure you get the time you need. I don’t want to lose this case on appeal, but I don’t want to win it without all the facts on the table.”
“Thank you,” Bill said.
Barbara sat back with another sigh. They had traded the necessary points of view and both realized there was a lot more information coming their way in the future.
“I hear you’re the youngest legal partner in the state,” Barbara said. “You were in the public defender’s office for a while Don told me. Is that where you earned your battle scars?”
“I believe in thorough investigation before going to court which sometimes ruffles a few feathers and makes people want to take a shot at me. No bullet holes from the opposition so far, but I did have a client try to stab me in the back…metaphorically speaking.”
“I went to Berkeley School of Law and clerked for Justice Bormann of the California Supreme Court,” Barbara said. “A lofty look at the law from the clouds, but it was so boring…so polite. I thought I would be fighting in the trenches.” And here she paused. “Are you a gambler, Bill?”
“Gambler? I don’t think so.”
“Don seems to think that every good lawyer is a secret gambler. I first met him at a convention in Lake Tahoe. The Supremes had gone there for a little R & R and Don was there to do a little recruiting. To make a long story short, he tried to hire me away. Told me he needed an aggressive woman in the DA’s office here.
“Small town charm and all that were his big selling points and I fell for the pitch. I try not to gamble but the defense often does. The prosecution deals the cards and too many lawyers seem to sit around waiting for a good hand to miraculously appear. Right now we hold all the cards in this case…except I will concede you have an ace with your information about Barnes.”
“Barnes isn’t an ace, he’s the joker,” Bill said. “He isn’t supposed to be in the game like this at all, it’s not in the rules of law we’re supposed to follow.”
“The boy confessed after his arrest.”
“There was no adult counsel at the time, another point of law.”
“The physical evidence alone convicts him, we have the weapon and his fingerprints are on it.”
“But did they run a gunpowder residue test on just Timothy or did they swab the victims as well? Stan may have shot his supposed wife and if Timothy was drugged he may not have had his facts clear. Maybe he killed Stan while defending his mother.”
Barbara smiled again. “Oh, you’re good. Now scram on out of here while I go ream the coroner a new asshole. Nice to meet you, Bill. We’ll talk again before the trial. In fact, I’m sure of it once the evidence is complete.”
“You aren’t suggesting a plea bargain, are you?” Bill asked.
“You’re only holding one card. It’s too soon to play the game. Have a good afternoon.”
She shook Bill’s hand and he retired from her office. Cold stone bitch? Not here, but perhaps in court. He was more determined than ever that this case should never go to trial. What if Stan did shoot Timothy’s mother? He needed Ed Avery in the worst sort of way because then they would start to get some answers.