“Is there anything about your trip that might be of interest to us?” he asked.
Alexa was not going to lie to a superior officer. “There have been two additional murders in Tunica that may be connected to a piece of land a casino wants for an expanded operation. The sheriff is presently investigating. It is possible that the family who owns the land where the first murder took place, as well as the land the casino needs, may be in continuing danger. I’m here merely to give moral support to the family. That’s all I know at the present.”
Hatcher asked, “Would that casino be the Roundtable?”
“Yes, sir, it would.”
“Do you suspect anyone associated with that casino or RRI of being involved in any of the three murders?”
“There’s no direct evidence, just circumstances that point in that direction. It appears as though the local casino manager might be involved.”
“So he is probably acting on his own volition. The owner of RRI, Kurt Klein, is an influential individual. Are you familiar with his name?”
“I am.”
“According to our information, Mr. Klein is in Tunica, staying at the Roundtable casino. This is very delicate, Alexa. Kurt Klein is a good friend of our state department. The Klein family, and their friends, are very influential and are often quite helpful to our interests around the world.”
“There is no evidence that Klein is involved, or knows anything about what has been going on here.”
“If any Federal statutes have been violated by people working for the casino, it will have to be handled very carefully. Would you be more comfortable if I sent some agents to protect the Gardner family?”
“No, sir. I don’t believe that is necessary at the present.” Alexa knew that she had not mentioned the Gardners by name. “It seems unlikely this man would dare harm them, since Winter Massey told him he suspected him of involvement.”
“I know this is not an official FBI matter at the present, but I expect you to keep me posted on this, Agent Keen. I cannot overstress the fact that you are not, under any circumstances, to take any unauthorized action against or involving Mr. Klein. Is that perfectly clear?”
“It is clear.”
“You are a valuable asset to the Bureau,” Hatcher said. “Let’s keep it that way. Does the sheriff have a case against this manager?”
“Not at the present. Jacob Gardner, the landowner’s ex-husband, had information crucial to that investigation, but unfortunately he was killed before the sheriff could convince him to cooperate.”
“I’ll alert the Memphis field office that if you need help, they will offer any necessary assistance. I want you to explain to Mr. Massey that we are watching over his shoulder. I think it would be wise if you make certain this doesn’t become an international incident.”
“I understand.”
“I know you have a good relationship with the director, and I want you to know that I have spoken with him about this. He told me that he has faith in your loyalty to the Bureau, and in your ability to handle yourself appropriately.”
Alexa hung up and reached to pick up her coat from the bed. She felt a bulge in the pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash held together with a rubber band. Thumbing the edge, she saw that the folded currency was comprised entirely of one-hundred-dollar bills. It took her a few seconds to realize that Jason Parr must have put it there when he’d hugged her in the casino parking lot. There were several thousand dollars in the bundle, and there was no way she could keep it.
Alexa left the room to go downstairs and tell Winter about Hatcher’s call.
82
When Brad arrived, Winter and Alexa went out to talk to him.
“My father found an entry wound in the left side of Jacob’s head. He excised the section of scalp,” Brad said.
“Alexa spoke to her boss,” Winter told Brad.
“Well, he is and he isn’t my boss,” Alexa said. “He is a deputy FBI director, but not for my branch. He’s counterterrorism.”
She filled Brad in on her conversation with Hatcher.
“So,” Brad said, “what does that mean? Klein is important to our nation’s counterterrorism efforts?”
“Klein has serious sway,” Alexa said. “We go after him, and hell will look like heaven.”
“This is a little unsettling,” Brad said. “So if he’s in on this, I can’t arrest him?”
“You can do what you please, but they won’t hold Klein accountable,” Alexa said. “And certain people could make sure you regret arresting him, if you do.”
“It’s like that sometimes,” Winter said. “Nothing to do about it. But we don’t know that Klein’s aware of what Mulvane’s been up to. Men like Klein are accustomed to saying they want something to happen while men like Mulvane make sure it does.”
“So you’re telling me that nobody pays for killing Sherry Adams?”
“No,” Winter said, looking out at the spot where the young woman had fallen on the cold hard stones. “Somebody is definitely going to pay for that.”
83
The overcast sky and a steady drizzle made the afternoon air seem much colder than thirty-four degrees. According to the weather reports, the temperature was going to drop overnight into the mid-twenties as an arctic blast came through the Delta. Winter and Brad stood together on the porch, the cup of coffee in Winter’s hand going cold as the men watched the gravel road.
“This is a good plan, right?” Brad asked.
“It should take Leigh and Hamp out of their sights and get Cynthia back,” Winter said.
“Should?” Brad asked, shaking his head slowly. “I should move Hamp and Leigh to a safer location.”
“There is no safer location at the moment. Moving them before I put this under Klein’s nose is a lot riskier than holding them here. Trust me.”
Brad looked at his watch. “He should be here by now.”
“He’ll be here soon,” Winter said.
Brad’s radio sprang to life. “Unit Four to T.C. One, there’s a black Lexus a half mile out. One occupant.”
“Plate?”
“Vanity Tennessee LAW-ONE. We’re behind him. You want us to pull him?”
“Negative,” Brad said, smiling at Winter. “We’re expecting him. Let him come in.”
“Sheriff.” The deputy laughed. “It looks like he’s dancing.”
Winter unzipped his jacket, took off his glove, and slipped it into his pocket. Reflexively he touched the Reeder to make sure it was secure in its holster, and that all four of the loaded eight-round magazines were secure in the twin holders.
A few seconds later the Lexus flew into view as it roared up the long gravel drive.
“I just hope he isn’t, you know…” Brad said.
“It’s early for that,” Winter said.
The sedan stopped, and when the door flew open, something by ZZ Top spewed out from the interior at an incredible volume. After a few seconds, a man with a flowing blond ponytail, a long beard, and dressed in a topcoat, English riding boots, and a wide-brimmed hat leapt from the car and began to dance in the rain with what could only be described as a blending of the Frug, the Jerk, and the Boogaloo. When the song ended, the man reached in, cut the car motor, brought out a valise, and slammed the door.
“Gentlemen, your law dog has arrived to save the day,” he said, taking the porch steps two at a time.
Winter expected the rib-squeezing hug he got from his friend Billy Lyons, but not the kiss the attorney planted on his cheek. Releasing Winter, Billy turned to Brad and opened his arms.
Brad held out his palms defensively. “Don’t you come a step closer, Billy Lyons. You want to kiss my cheek, fine, but let me drop my pants first.”
“Well, here I am,” Billy said. “This sort of top-secret, faxed-map, come-to-Papa-right-now crap is why I get three bills an hour.”
“Don’t friends get a discount?” Brad asked.