Rich Waters (Jason Rich), page 27
“What line?”
“You don’t follow me or my men, Counselor. I do the following. Mr. Davenport had been tailing one of my best hands for a couple of months, and he finally got caught in the cross fire.”
Cade had taken his phone back, but Jason didn’t need it to envision Harry’s dead face. It would be stamped in his memory forever. He thought of his investigator’s last text. Going into the woods and following the man Jason had asked him to follow. Then he thought of Izzy, lying on the guest bed in the fetal position. Nola in rehab in Gainesville. Chase in Perdido, so far gone she couldn’t bring herself to talk to him. Niecy, in Birmingham, hadn’t come back in months. Why would she? Jana had asked him to come to Guntersville last year, and she was dead.
Had he helped anyone since he’d arrived?
I’m a curse.
“Jason, you have one job, and I hope you understand what it is.”
“Represent Trey Cowan,” Jason mumbled.
“More than that. I expect the same result you obtained for your sister.”
Jason looked at him as he rose from the table. “What if I can’t deliver that?”
Cade leaned over the table. “Then more people that you love are going to end up like Mr. Davenport.” He threw two twenties on the table. “Feel free to order something, Counselor. I’m kinda busy, so I need to be leaving.”
As he started to walk away, Jason called after him. “It’ll be a lot harder with Harry gone.”
Cade returned to the table. “You should’ve thought of that before you sicced him on one of my guys.” He leaned in closer. “And before you threatened my high school distributor.”
“You ask the impossible,” Jason said, feeling sick to his stomach again.
“No, I don’t. I’ve already told you who Trey was meeting at Branner’s Place. And I suspect, after you talk to your girlfriend . . . or is it ex-girlfriend . . . that you will see that she makes quite a promising alternative suspect.”
“What is your play here?” Jason asked, beginning to sense a numbness coming over him. “I don’t get it. You hire me, but then you seem to do everything you can do to keep me from succeeding and then still expect me to somehow win.”
Cade grinned. “Don’t you worry about that, Jason. Stay in your lane.”
Hearing the drug dealer throw Harry’s advice to him was almost too much, and Jason’s gag reflex kicked in. He coughed and grabbed for a water that wasn’t there.
Cade slapped him twice on the back, and the fit subsided. Then the drug dealer leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Just win, baby.”
75
Jason walked out of Crawmama’s on shaky legs. He’d drunk two glasses of water before leaving, but he still felt dehydrated and weak from all the vomiting. His heart was also beating hard, and no amount of deep breaths seemed to calm him. All he could see in his thoughts was Harry. Blank eyes. Gunshot wound to the forehead. Open mouth.
He got in the Porsche and gazed at his reflection in the rearview mirror. Feeling hate building inside him. He put the car in gear and squealed his tires as he pulled onto Highway 431.
He drove to the jail on autopilot, slammed the door, and walked into the reception area. “I need to see my client, Mr. Cowan.”
“It’s a bit late for an attorney consultation, Mr. Rich. We are way past normal hours.”
“This is an emergency, and it won’t take long.” He took out his cell. “If you don’t set it up, I’m going to call Shay.”
The reception clerk gave him a tight smile and snatched a phone. “Just a moment.”
Five minutes later, he was seated in the small room looking across the metal table at Trey Cowan.
“What’s up?” Trey asked.
“Tyson Cade murdered my lead investigator. His name was Harry Davenport. He worked for me and . . . he was one of my best friends in the world.” Jason spoke in a deliberate manner, forcing his voice not to break. “One of my only friends.”
“I’m sorry,” Trey said. His tone sounded sincere but also stupid.
“You’re sorry.”
“What else do you want me to say?”
Jason stood and placed his hands on the desk, glaring at Trey. “I want you to tell me the whole deal, Trey. Perhaps if you come clean with me, no one else that either one of us cares about will die.”
“Mr. Rich, you need to calm down.”
Jason grabbed him by the collar. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m in this mess because of you, and I need you to help me dig us out. Tyson Cade expects me to win this thing. That’s the only way I protect my family and friends. Do you understand?”
“Take your hands off of me.”
Jason relinquished the man’s shirt and pushed himself back off the table. “Now I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them with a nod or a shake of the head.”
Trey scowled back at him.
“Did Kelly Flowers work for Tyson Cade?”
No response from Trey.
“Trey, it doesn’t make sense to me that you would threaten to kill Flowers just because he shamed you for not doing well at a baseball tryout. I mean, come on. You and he are talking in low voices, and all of a sudden you go off the deep end. You’re both from Sand Mountain. You were teammates on the football team. You have already admitted to doing deliveries for Cade. It is a very easy stretch to assume that Flowers was also working for Cade.”
Again, Trey sat there with no expression.
“Damnit, man,” Jason said. “What is the deal? Don’t you want to live?”
“There are some things worse than dying.”
“Like what?”
“Like watching the people you love die. Like what you are feeling right now, Mr. Rich. I don’t want to feel that.”
“Who are you talking about? Your mom? Your dad? Colleen Maples?”
Trey looked down at the table. “Yes. Mostly Mom and Colleen. I know if I talk, Tyson will hurt them.”
“Do you really think Tyson Cade is going to hurt your mother? Didn’t she practically raise him? Isn’t she the reason that I’m here? She begged Tyson to hire you a lawyer, and he got me as a favor to her.”
Trey put his face in his hands, and Jason returned to his seat.
“Please, man. I’m at the end of my rope, here. I can’t tell if Tyson hired me to help you or to guarantee that you lose.”
At this revelation, Trey looked up. “What do you mean?”
Jason thought of Chase, who Tyson Cade said was meeting Kelly Flowers the night he was murdered at the very place he was killed. Teresa Roe had seen them together at the Brick. Why? What was the deal? Was Flowers leaning on her as a cop? As one of Cade’s men? Or was he just dating her?
“I mean he has hamstrung me by killing my investigator. By scaring you into not talking.” Jason sighed and pulled out his phone. He found a photograph of Chase and pushed the device over the table to Trey. “Have you ever seen Flowers with this woman?”
Trey shook his head, and Jason breathed a sigh of relief.
“Who is she?” Trey asked.
“A woman named Chase Wittschen.”
“Don’t know her. Why’s she important?”
Jason stood and scratched his neck. “I’m not sure that she is.” He closed his eyes and hung his head. “Trey, please, can you give me something? Someone who might know something.”
“Have you talked with Colleen yet?”
“She’s refused our requests for an interview.”
Trey crossed his arms. “Try her again.”
“Why? What could she possibly—”
“A lot,” Trey said, walking around the table to the door and banging three times. “I haven’t seen Kelly with the woman you’re talking about . . . but I have seen him with Colleen.”
“What?”
“Try her again,” he repeated as the door swung open.
76
Colleen Maples lived in a lake cottage off Highway 69. To get there, Jason had to drive right past Fire by the Lake restaurant, a key site in his sister’s case. Then he turned right onto Browns Creek Road.
Maples’s house was about a half mile down the road.
Jason parked in the driveway and saw that a BMW 3 Series sedan was nestled under the carport. He remembered the vehicle from the last time he’d stalked Maples for an interview. Then, in the parking lot of Marshall Medical Center North, she had almost run over him. He didn’t think this visit could be any worse than that, but he wasn’t willing to make any guarantees given how the day had gone thus far.
He knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. He knocked again. And again. After ten minutes, he tried the knob. It was unlocked. He leaned his head inside. “Hello? Ms. Maples? Colleen?”
Nothing.
He took a full step into the room. “Is anyone here? Colleen? Ms. Maples?” For a split second, he worried he was about to see another dead body.
“Wh-wh-who is it?” a groggy voice called out from the darkness.
Jason blinked his eyes and saw a woman emerge from the dark. Her brown hair was tousled, and her eyes were creased with sleep. She wore a long T-shirt that fell to her knees. Still, even in complete disarray, Colleen Maples was an attractive woman. She flipped on a light and put up her hands against the glare. Then she looked at him. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m Trey’s lawyer. He said that you knew some things that might help me.”
She crossed her arms. “I should call the police. What? Did you jimmy the lock?”
“It was unlocked.” Jason glanced to his right and saw a kitchen table with an open bottle of vodka. It was a fifth of Grey Goose that might have a couple shots left in it.
She put a hand over her face. “Look, it’s five forty-five. My shift starts at seven p.m.”
Jason frowned. “Why would a CRNA work the night shift?”
She glared at him. “When the CRNA has her license suspended and has to work as a registered nurse for a hospital who’s about had enough of her.”
“Ah,” Jason said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s my own fault. I’m sure you know my story very well.”
“I thought you got a relatively light punishment. A fine and probation.”
“I did for the stuff with Braxton. But then, a few months ago, I failed a drug test. That led to a suspension, and now I’m lucky to be working as an RN. One more screwup and my career is toast.”
Jason stared at her with an open mouth. “I’m sorry. I have a similar situation with the Alabama State Bar.”
“I know.”
For a moment, Jason wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry I woke you,” he finally managed.
She breathed through her mouth and poked her lip out, causing her bangs to fly up out of her eyes. “It’s OK. I was about to have to get up anyway.” Then she sighed. “Want some coffee?”
“That’d be great.”
A couple of minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen table with two mugs of coffee in front of them. Colleen hadn’t removed the still-open vodka bottle, and Jason glanced at it. “Grey Goose was always my favorite vodka.”
Colleen took a sip of coffee. “Well, it’s about the only thing getting me through the hours I’m not working.”
Jason almost said “I’m sorry” again but stopped himself. “How long had Trey been working for Tyson Cade?”
She grimaced. “I’m not exactly sure. Trey and I broke up right after your sister’s trial. But I know he hated it. Every second of it. But Trey was stubborn. He wanted to make another run at the Majors, and Cade paid very well.”
“Forgive me if this sounds insensitive or direct, but what were you doing with him? You’re a beautiful, successful, professional woman. He’s only a few years removed from high school.”
She leaned back from the table. “When word got out about me and Braxton, I felt like I was walking around with a scarlet letter on my chest. All my friends and colleagues shunned me. I’m midthirties, never married, and had spent five years of my life hoping that Braxton Waters would leave his wife for me. Then we have a spat during Trey’s surgery, Trey ends up with a broken leg that never heals, and I’m investigated for the first time by the Board of Nursing. Then Braxton was killed. I guess I was spiraling out of control. I felt guilty. I went to see Trey to say I’m sorry, and we ended up having a drink and . . .”
“One thing led to another,” Jason finished, remembering how Trey had described their relationship on the stand during Jana’s trial.
“Yep. I’m still not sure what I was doing. At the end of the day, I guess I was lonely. Then, after Jana’s trial . . . after you outed us . . .” She pointed a finger at Jason. “. . . I was embarrassed, and I guess I became very depressed. And then I got involved with someone else . . .”
“Kelly Flowers?”
Her eyes widened for a second, and then she gazed at her mug. “Trey told you.”
“What can you tell me about Flowers?”
She looked up with a smirk. “I’m sure Trey has filled you in on all the sordid details.”
“Trey hasn’t said a word. He advised me to ask you about it.”
Colleen peered down at the table. “I guess that’s not surprising.” Then she chuckled, and the bitterness in the sound was palpable. “Look around you, Mr. Rich. My life is a shambles. I work the graveyard shift as a staff nurse. I used to be a CRNA. I’m two months late on the mortgage to this place, and I’ll probably be evicted soon. I drink a quart of vodka a day.”
“How did you get mixed up with Flowers?”
“I went out with some friends to Wintzell’s. I drank too much, and on my way home, Flowers pulled me over. I failed the field sobriety test, and he was going to take me in. I begged him not to—said that I’d lose my license—and he offered me a deal.”
“What kind of a deal?”
“If I went with him to the Hampton Inn, he’d tear up the ticket.”
“Did you?”
Her lip began to tremble. “Yes.”
“Then what?”
“He made me do that a few more times.”
“Always at the Hampton Inn?”
“No, after the first encounter, we usually came here since I live alone. Finally, I said no.” She scoffed. “The next day, I was randomly drug tested.”
“Do you think Flowers was behind that?”
She cocked her head at him and opened her mouth. A nonverbal duh if there ever was one.
Jason felt a buzz of adrenaline combined with anger pulse through him. What Colleen Maples had just described was an absolute abuse of power. An officer using his badge to coerce sex in exchange for leniency. Could Flowers have pulled the same sting with Chase? Despite his fatigue, Jason’s heart was pounding now. Kelly Flowers was a dirty cop. He gritted his teeth. Very dirty . . . just awful . . .
What also made sense was that Colleen Maples would have every reason to want misfortune to befall Sergeant Kelly Flowers. As would Chase, if he was blackmailing her . . .
. . . but, if Flowers stole Trey’s girlfriend under these circumstances, it also enhances my client’s motive . . .
“Trey has told me that you texted him the morning of Kelly Flowers’s murder.” Jason forged ahead. “You let him know that the cops were staking out his apartment. Why’d you do that?”
She shrugged. “I drive by Trey’s apartment from time to time. When I saw all the police vehicles, I got worried.”
“Ms. Maples, is there anything else you can tell me about Kelly Flowers?”
She bit her lip and crossed her arms. “Yes. There was only one person that Trey interacted with in Tyson Cade’s organization. That’s why Trey hated Kelly so much. It was Kelly that convinced him to work for Cade. And since Kelly was a police officer, he could lean on Trey and threaten to arrest him. It was a dangerous game Kelly was playing. I mean, Trey could have turned him in.” She took a sip from her mug. “Or he could have killed him.”
“You could have reported him too,” Jason said. “Or . . .” He let his voice fade out. Then he decided to press. “Ms. Maples, where were you the night of April 8? Were you working?”
“I was here. At home.”
“Alone?”
“Just me and a bottle of Grey Goose. Look, I know where you’re going,” she said, her voice reeking of sarcasm. “It’s kind of obvious. But I didn’t kill the bastard. I don’t own a shotgun.”
“Did you know that Trey owned one?”
She blinked, and Jason thought it might be a tell. Perhaps she hadn’t considered that possibility. “No.”
He couldn’t discern whether she was lying, so he decided to change direction. “What do you think happened to Flowers?”
She drank a last sip of coffee and walked to the sink, then poured the rest down the drain. “I don’t have a clue, but I really don’t think Trey could have killed Flowers. So the only thing that makes sense is that Tyson Cade had him killed. Maybe Cade got word that Flowers was using his badge to solicit sexual favors from women, and he thought that behavior was too risky for his inside man? Or perhaps Cade found someone else in the sheriff’s office to siphon him information. Cade kills Flowers and sets Trey up for it. Then, because Trudy practically raised him, he hires you as Trey’s lawyer, knowing full damn well there’s no way you can win.”
“Why would he do that?” Jason asked, knowing that he had been bothered by the same thoughts.
“To make it look like he’s protecting his people. According to Trey, Tyson has a godfather-like reputation in Sand Mountain. He takes care of his own, and Trey and Trudy are his own.”
“So this is all a sham orchestrated by Cade.”
She shrugged and walked toward a hallway. “That’s my two cents, and I’m sure that’s what it’s worth. But if Trey is innocent, and I believe he is, what else makes sense?”
Jason pondered the question as he stared into his coffee cup. Then he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He looked up at Colleen.
“Good luck to you.”
“Thank you, Ms. Maples.”
“You can call me Colleen,” she said as she walked away. “I get off at seven a.m. Monday through Friday and sleep from ten to six. If you need to see me again, come in the morning.” She cocked her head toward the almost-empty bottle of vodka on the table. “I might even let you buy me a drink.”
