The mamba stick. One point for me, I thought.
“I took another team into Mingo’s office in Rocky Falls,” he continued. “We were rather, um, belligerent. But Mingo was prepared for us. According to him, two of his deputies were cruising the river road, looking for an escaped prisoner.”
“That would be me,” I said.
“Yeah. Anyway, the gospel according to Mingo: They heard shooting, stopped to investigate, saw a man they say they didn’t know shooting at two unidentified people in a raft. They thought they saw one of said people get hit and fall out of said raft. When the shooter saw the cops, he took off. They called it in and went down to the riverbank to investigate because they thought there might be someone injured in the river. While they were down there, somebody grabbed their cruiser and also took off. Here endeth the lesson.”
“The two vehicles were parked together when the shooting started,” I said. “Side by side. The rifle shooter was firing from between the vehicles. Those cops are complicit in this. They knew the shooter’s name.”
“And we’ve asked Mingo to get them in for a lie detector test.”
“He agree to that?”
“Hell, no, he wouldn’t even ID them. I’m guessing they’ll get their union rep in and then stonewall. Assuming they’ve advanced to that point in Robbins County. We looked at the site, and, yes, there are vehicle tracks all over it. Too many, unfortunately. We did find a couple of fresh-looking cigarette butts, which might indicate someone had been staked out, waiting. But we also found used condoms, beer cans, fast-food wrappers, so it’s probably also a make-out spot. We’ve sent the ciggy-butts to our lab for a DNA take.”
“Did they say anything about Rue Creigh getting her head blown off?”
“Not a word,” King said.
“That’s very interesting,” I said. “I can show you where that happened. I’ll bet there’s some blood evidence on that dirt road. No mention of my taking Nathan Creigh down and ‘borrowing’ his shotgun?”
He shook his head and consulted his notebook. “They did say that the raft had been stolen earlier in the morning, so they suspected the guy in the raft might be their fugitive. They said you burned the jail and possibly killed two jailers during your escape. Anything on that?”
I told him of the events at the jail and that the Big brothers were here in Carrigan County under Hayes’s protection and could back up my story. He nodded and made a note, which is when I realized he had been putting stuff into his notebook the whole time we’d been talking. Smooth western district manager.
“Mingo say anything to indicate that he knew it was Carrie who got shot?”
“News to him,” King said. “He did make an oblique reference to the fact that technically, anyway, she didn’t work for us anymore.”
“Sending you a little message, maybe?”
“Maybe,” King said. “We’ve been looking at Robbins County for a long time, but it’s always been in connection with Mingo and his crew of ‘unofficial’ deputies protecting the meth trade.”
“That’s not what Carrie was after,” I said.
“Yeah, I know. And you’re probably wondering why we didn’t go with it.”
“I assume it was the same problem everyone has in Robbins County: no hard evidence.”
“That’s right,” he said. “And there was a personal, somewhat obsessive angle, which tended to taint any theories she might have advanced. When she quit, I had some second thoughts, so I went to the Bureau in Charlotte and asked them what they had on any child trafficking going on in western Carolina.”
“And?”
“And that got me an invitation to drive down to Charlotte for a face-to-face conference with their intel people. I was supposed to be there today, but then Sheriff Hayes called.”
“What’s Gelber’s problem?” I asked.
“He was Carrie’s immediate supervisor,” King said. “He thinks she resigned because you talked her into it, and then you got her killed.”
“He’s got it exactly backwards,” I said. “I was all done up here. She’s the one who wanted me to go back in, to chase this kid thing.”
“Well,” King said, closing his notebook, “you’re welcome to try to convince him. He might just be feeling a little guilty for not taking her theory seriously, too.”
I sighed. I was still tired. “Look,” I said. “I can’t produce any evidence of children being abducted and transported for sale. I overheard a conversation that confirmed that theory for me, and we had one old lady say that there seemed to be a lot of kids who ran away up there, but there are lots of other possible reasons for that.”
“What’s your point?”
“These guys were chasing me because I know what happened at the jail and I’ve become a thorn in their criminal hides. But why did Grinny Creigh send her daughter to abduct Carrie here in Marionburg? For that matter, how did they know where she was? Why’d they want her?”
“Because she was getting close to something?” he asked. “Something more important than their drug operation?”
“That’s my take,” I said. “They’ve held off the DEA for some time now, with Mingo’s help, of course, but suddenly they have two strangers causing problems.”
“But how would they know Carrie was looking at this new angle?” he asked. “Did either of you talk to them or anyone else about selling kids?”
“No,” I said, but then remembered that, yes, we had. “Wait-we did. We were helped by the old lady I mentioned, named Laurie May Creigh. Carrie did tell her about what she suspected.”
“Creigh? You guys talked to one of them?”
“She lives in the adjoining cove. Hates Grinny Creigh. Related, but has nothing to do with her. Hid us from the black hats when we had nowhere else to go. Showed me the best place to set up a watch on the Creigh compound. I think she’s all right.”
But even as I said all that, I still wondered. Nathan had known exactly where to find me, and they had somehow found out about Carrie’s quest. King saw my sudden doubts. Laurie May had either set a trap or was maybe now lying injured or worse in her cabin after a beating at the hands of Nathan.
“What?” King asked. I laid it out for him.
He sighed and made some more notes. “Well,” he said, “our problem is just what you said. I’ve got an asset inside Mingo’s office, but so far all we have is a bunch of stories backed up by zero physical evidence. Even now, all we got is a raft with some holes in it. We can’t legally go busting in on any of the Creighs without court paper, and I don’t think we’d get the paper.”
“How about conducting a general, wide-area search for Carrie, then?” I said. “You have a credible report that she’s been shot. Even Mingo says so, and I sure as hell say so. Search the whole damned county, and make sure you get into Grinny Creigh’s compound while you do it. Urgently. That’s what I’m going to do.”
“You have no authority to do anything, here or over there. You know that. And Mingo would love to get his hands on you again. And if he does, this time you won’t make it to any damn jail.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I said, with more confidence than I really felt. “I’ll get the Big brothers to help out. Carrie may be out there in the woods right now, waiting for help. And you can be damned sure Mingo will have people looking just as soon as he thinks you guys have given up.”
The phone rang. King asked me who had this number, and I told him lots of people. I picked it up. It was the front desk in the main lodge. “Taking calls now, Mr. Richter?” the operator asked. For a moment I didn’t understand him, then remembered that I’d asked them to block all calls earlier while I got some sleep.
“Yes, I am-who’s calling?”
“No name, sir, but he’s local and I’d guess he’s been up in them thar hills for awhile.”
“Give me ten seconds,” I said, nodding with my head toward an extension phone on the kitchen counter. King understood immediately.
“On three,” I said after hanging up. The phone started ringing again, and we picked up simultaneously.