Double Triple 565pm

Double Triple

James Lewis

Copyright © 2021 James Lewis All rights reserved First Edition Fulton Books, Inc. Meadville, PA Published by Fulton Books 2021 The artwork on the front and back covers are original works by southern California artist Jesse Fabian Mendivil. Jesse began drawing as a toddler and has been involved with art since. He started oil painting about fifteen years ago and his ions are portraiture and figurative art. You can find more of his work at jessemendivilarts.com. For inquiries please [email protected]. ISBN 978-1-63710-356-2 (paperback) ISBN 978-1-63710-357-9 (digital) Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Liberty Lake, Washington The Lakes Downtown Spokane Time-Out Couples Two Bodies Osburn, Idaho 1972 Spokane Two Investigations History of Union Bob Marshall Wilderness Nile Makes Friends Spokane, Washington, Sheriff’s Department Lake Couer d’Alene Bodies Window Shopping Freezers The Tour

More Bodies Proposal Tristen Drunk and Bugle Corp. Orofino Cleanup Begins The Investigation Dillon’s Cousins Agostino’s Revenge Johnny Dawson, Pilot David Rutherford Safety Net Tristen and Peggy Break-In at the Elks Lieutenant Gwen Freezers Opened Nile Crosses the Line Izzie’s Birthday Capture Beatty

Ron’s Surgery Death Penalty Croop and Saunders Isabel Contributes Area History Escape The Search Deputy Rowe Turning Up the Heat Captain Drager Pahrump Brothel Elks Evidence Interrogation Otis Orchards Orofino State Prison Plea Bargain Captain Mathias Back in Business Forensics Fly Fishing

Stakeout The Trap The Deputy Delivers Mayor and DA Recapping Past Prior to the Agostino Explosion Daria and Johnny The Rat Relocation Vindication McCallen Together Again The Flight Libby Hospital Saunders’ Surprise Back East Berdot Squeals Arrests Chicago Willy and Benny Bureau Versus Sheriff

Back to Normal? The Posse Book 3: The Agent and the deputy

Dedicated to Captain Scott Landen San Bernardino county sheriff

Bob Adelman Southern California Broadcaster

About the artist

Southern california artist Jesse/portraitist/figurative artist E mail mendivil fine art Facebook mendivil fine art mendivil fine art.com

Acknowledgments

John and Cathy Kamburoff Aviators USMC Grandkids that serve our country Alexis Mendivil USN Erin Blume USAF Hunter Morgan USA Ed Mendivil Jr. USN Honorable discharge

Prologue

Tammy Caine had lost her husband, Christian. Two years earlier, he was gunned down while helping in the investigation of a murder case. Formerly, lead forensics deputy for the Spokane sheriff’s department, Christian, was ambushed, searching a farm in Idaho. On this night she was vibrant, young, attractive, with twins Cody and Jody seated by her parents, at the head table. Eighteen months of trauma help had been taken seriously. Tammy’s mom and dad owned a popular Italian restaurant in the downtown area of Spokane. Her uncle and aunt owned another, equally as popular, near the airport. Seated around the room were family, friends, and a few of Christian’s former law enforcement partners. Tammy’s mom had invited most of the people in the room. She took every opportunity available to gather her herd. Tammy’s mother also knew that something was cooking between her daughter and a deputy named Sal Domenico. Sal had been hit by a round fired from the same rifle that killed Christian. His body armor had saved his life. “And he’s Italian,” she would be heard repeating to many of the guests. Tammy’s mom was trying to cover up her mourning daughter’s display of affection toward Domenico. Everyone in the room was glad to see her back to the outgoing, funfilled person she once was. Tammy Caine’s closest friends, Abron Kelsey and his wife, Isabel, along with Terry and Greta Hollander were seated near her. Isabel was in the last phase of her education. Having earned a degree in sociology, Izzy was finishing up her teaching credentials and masters from nearby Eastern Washington State College. Abron had just ed the bar while working as a deputy for Captain Shawn Saunders, Spokane Sheriff’s Office. The FBI was knocking on his door. They were after his many skills spotlighted in the work of the previous couple of years in homicide. Abron and Agent Jake Monroe, working together, were instrumental in bringing down two leaders of a multiple-murder case. Agent Monroe had recommended

Abron to the bureau. Terry Hollander had been promoted to lieutenant. He and Greta had begun the long road of parenting less than a year earlier. Also present near the head table was Deputy Ron Rowe and his new bride, Vale. Tammy was mustering the courage to stand and introduce Deputy Sal Domenico to her guests when the night was shattered. A pickup truck came crashing through the restaurant wall, exploding on impact. Sirens wailing, the first responders were firemen and EMTs. The restaurant was partly ablaze, partly smoldering. Within that cloud of smoke, little if no movement could be focused on by responders.

Chapter 1

Liberty Lake, Washington

Quiet and pristine, Liberty is surrounded by pine-covered mountains, with the exception of a wide, flat swath outlet into the Spokane Valley to the north. Without this overgrown meadow, Liberty would look like it sat in the cauldron of a volcano. Fishing for trout, crappie, bass, perch, and catfish abound. Spring, summer, and fall boating and canoeing added to the playlist for children and adults. In the 1920s an electric train was railed into the liberty park area located on the northwest side of the lake. The rail line opened up the area to thousands of people living in the larger cities of Spokane and Couer d’Alene. Our Big Band era was in full swing nationwide. At Liberty Park, a pavilion dance hall was built on log legs protruding from below. The pier stretched out over the waters of the lake. In the 1940s Sig’s Resort opened to the west of the dance hall. Along with Sandy Beach, across the lake they formed two of the more-popular recreational resorts. Within a couple of decades, golf courses were added while a small housing boom was taking place. The southwest area of the lake was home to a picture-perfect fen. Cattails, tall reeds, lily pads, sunken logs, and protruding stumps were home to turtles, water snakes, even an occasional muskrat or beaver. It was early fall at the lake. Two siblings were fishing out of a canoe, drifting a few feet away from the cold-water swamp. On this day, the sister and brother, by chance, would unlock a tale of dark times.

Chapter 2

The Lakes

Liberty Lake has a much-larger sister lake just over the border in Idaho. Lake Couer d’Alene spans an enormous twenty-seven miles to the south, when you include Chatcolet. From the magnificent beauty of Couer d’Alene City to St. Maries, Idaho, fishing and boating captured the attention of the populace. Of the two popular lakes, it was Liberty that first stole the recent headlines. The young canoeists were crappie-fishing. Drifting near a slightly open area of tall reeds, the sister spotted color in the lily pads. At first, she didn’t pay much attention as she was reeling in a crappie. Floating objects within the lake would tend to drift to that area due to prevailing winds. The siblings had found hats, fishing tackle, even an ice chest floating in the slew earlier that summer. With fish onboard, her attention went back to the curious color. Focusing in, she shook her brother to the bone with a curdling shout, “It’s a leg with a red tennis shoe.” The teens immediately headed for the closest house along the shoreline and called their father. Within two hours the area was alive with Spokane sheriffs, deputies, and CSI personnel. A dive team had brought to shore several body parts, including the leg, torso, and arm of one of the two corpses. The kids that discovered the body parts were taken away from the crime scene after very little but effective questioning. It would be a while before they ventured near the fen again.

Chapter 3

Downtown Spokane

It was a night of horror surrounding the explosion. Over two dozen people were rushed to local hospitals. As the sun rose on the crime scene, law enforcement and first responders were shaking their heads, talking in disbelief of the lack of deceased for a heinous crime scene that large. The truck was carrying extra fuel containers and dynamite sticks that had been lit thirty yards away from the crash site. Outside cameras filmed the launching of the vehicle by two men staged across the street. The attack and explosion were obviously planned. Fortunately for the partygoers, the execution failed badly. The truck hit the wall that was farthest from the invitees. The bartender was killed instantly; the cocktail waitress was in critical condition. For the rest of the persons involved inside the restaurant: shock and disbelief, cuts and bruises, smoke inhalation, many taken by ambulance. The concussion stunned everyone momentarily. Within seconds of the unleashed concussion, Abron and Isabel were up and leading the search for injured partygoers. A couple of Tammy’s cousins were aware enough to take Abron’s orders and began clearing injured out to the arriving sirens. Dust and smoke made it difficult for the first few minutes to find movement. Deputy Kelsey, shouting orders, began shouting names. The first few answered. Greta did not, then came a yell from Deputy Hollander, “Got her. She’s okay.” Tammy and Sal were lifting debris off Tammy’s mom and dad. They were alive. Breathing was difficult. Many victims were coughing loudly, in a way helping rescuers locate them. The persons responsible for the explosion were long gone. Deputy Ron Rowe was a detective with a short fuse. The rage was beginning to show itself. These are my best friends and the lady dearest to my heart, he thought. Out loud Ron shouted, “I’ll kill whoever did this.”

After the first hour at the site, responders gave Captain Saunders, Kelsey, and Rowe their first report, “The bartender never knew what happened. The barmaid was, unfortunately, awake in transport—deep wounds, blood loss, and burns. She was suffering badly for those minutes before your deputies could attend to her. When she saw our EMTs, her mind slipped into a coma. Twelve others have been transported with open wounds and broken bones. All twelve not critical.” Shawn turned to Isabel, Tammy, Theodore, and Shiela and said, “We will all talk in twenty-four hours. Let’s get you home.” Kelsey wondered out loud, “Where’s Deputy Domenico?” “I had him take both of my kids away from here. He and they are at home,” Tammy stated with a don’t-question-my-authority tone. At that same moment between Tammy and Abron, just fourteen miles from the explosion, a phone call was made. “I would be surprised if your targets come out of there alive.” On the other end of the call, a hard-sounding voice said, “You’ve done well. The other half of your payment will be waiting where you designated tomorrow evening. If you killed Kelsey, Saunders, Hollander, or Rowe, there will be another payment in a week.” The phone went dead. The two felons began their celebration.

Chapter 4

Time-Out

Mount Spokane

Three days after the bombing, Captain Saunders called for a meeting involving several of his long-time investigators. Over the previous twenty-four months, Deputies Kelsey, Rowe, Hollander, and Domenico had earned their stripes many times over. The deputies, along with an FBI agent named Jake Monroe, had captured and incarcerated persons involved with the largest crime spree in Spokane history. Several deputies from Spokane and Couer d’Alene were killed. Bombings of a factory, condos, and a farm were solved. The public was at ease, until the restaurant explosion reignited their fears. “It looks and feels like it is beginning anew,” said Saunders. “All of us in this room worked tirelessly to bring the area back under our safety net. Deputies, I’ll need all of you at your best when you return in four days. Rest, relax, get reacquainted with friends and family. Round two looks like it has begun. Do not talk law enforcement over these days off. Enjoy your loved ones. Please, no questions. You’re all dismissed.”

Chapter 5

Couples

After filling their buckets, all three couples left for home in their individual SUVs. As Sal and Tammy departed, Terry started his Toyota and began to follow Sal. Lagging behind, waiting until the other two autos were five minutes gone, Isabel then sprang from the bronco with a blanket in hand running toward the woods. Abron had made sure the others wouldn’t suddenly reappear by making two quick phone calls to his male picking partners, letting them know that he and Isabel needed to get some hiking exercise in the woods. Abron and Isabel had been together for almost two years. Their combined sexual appetite was off the charts. Neither of the two had any serious carnal experience with the opposite sex until they met. When Abron caught up to Isabel, she itted to Abron, “You, the forest, and the danger of being caught are more than I can stand,” as she turned, wearing nothing but a blanket. Abron was six feet, three inches, 215 pounds; Isabel five feet, one inch, 95 pounds. He quickly picked her up as the blanket fell away, laying her gently on top of the quilt his mom had made for him while he was away in the military. Izzy on this day was the main dish. Neither would give up trying to please the other until a new rustling of the huckleberry bushes nearby sent both running nude to their SUV, clothes in hand. Breathing heavily, she climbed over and sat facing him on the driver’s seat. Her moans in the enclosed space were an unbearable aphrodisiac for Abron. Soon after they drove down the mountain in the dark of night and headed for their condo to get some rest.

Chapter 6

Two Bodies

The morning after his deputies were given R & R, Captain Saunders received a grim report from his CSI unit, reporting two different bodies involved at Liberty Lake. One male, one female. Within days, DNA samples had been sent to databases across the country. Husband and wife, lovers, business associates? The report stated that a body part from each had been connected with barbed wire. On the shore of the lake, deputies were asking CSI about a preliminary idea of how long the victims were in the water before the discovery. “The body parts are recent kills,” stated Deputy Bradley. Forensics civilian employee, Kelly McCallum, agreed, saying, “Very little degradation, caused by fish or other natural occurrences, has deteriorated the body parts. All of the parts have clothes attached that look like they were just put on within the last week.” Spokane Forensics and CSI teams were made up of civilian and sheriff personnel. Kelly was hired after graduating from the University of Idaho, located in Moscow, south of Couer d’Alene. Now a three-year veteran of the lab, her experience and knowledge were highly valued. Kelly’s reputation for “getting it right” was slowly being sought after by different agencies within the tristate area. Deputy Joi Bradley was found through a search of the West Coast when Captain Shawn Saunders lost his top CSI lieutenant, Christian Caine. Christian had been ambushed at a crime scene. Shawn’s second in command of the CSI unit was Deputy Abron Kelsey. Kelsey was promoted out of CSI when Abron was critically injured in the line of duty. While recovering, Abron used his thought processes to help solve several cold cases while his physical being was restricted to a hospital bed.

Joi Bradley was a single mom that wanted to leave her home and begin a fresh start in a city far away from where her cheating husband and his new young livein girlfriend were playing house. Joi had recently turned forty years of age while ing two teenagers soon to graduate from high school. Moving from a predominantly Afro-American area of a major city, she worried the move across the state, to what she thought was a Caucasian-dominated city, would be too hard on her kids. It was Captain Saunders that made sure Joi was given a tour of Gonzaga University while interviewing for the job. A forward thinker, Shawn knew of Bradley’s concerns. Looking into her kids’ GPAs, Saunders was convinced that Gonzaga was right for her family. Captain Saunders’s department needed Bradley’s abilities. He had to get her on board ASAP after losing Caine. With the coming of age in DNA analysis, law enforcement was given a new gamechanging tool. Long-time jailed inmates were being cleared and released. DNA found at crime scenes decades ago were now righting wrongs while turning cold cases into convictions.

Chapter 7

Osburn, Idaho

1972

Cab Callaway’s “Minnie the Moocher” was blaring from the studio speakers. The young disc jockey was hurrying to make the morning coffee. Led Zeppelin’s “Stairway to Heaven” was queued up. The DJ had his own thoughts on how to wake the valley up. Callaway’s final “Hi-de-hi-de-hi-de-ho” ran out. It was five thirty in the morning when a loud racket was heard outside the glass doors, at the entrance to the little AM radio station. Flipping the switch to Zeppelin, Nile hurried to the front door. Through the glass he could see two young ladies, with hair in curlers, holding a shoebox. Opening the door to a bitter, cold snowstorm, the ladies were standing between a taxi and the door. Nile let them in, closing the cold out. A brunette spoke first, saying, “This is for you,” while handing him the box. With teeth almost to the shattering point from the cold, a young blond stated simply, “We listen to you every morning, getting ready for bed. When your music comes on, it signals an end to the night.” Nile would find out later that the ladies were not allowed to mingle with the residents in Shoshone County on their off hours. The Spokane world’s fair was coming to the big city, west of Wallace. Lawmakers throughout the state were busy legislating the closure of the four houses of ill repute. The houses had been in business for decades, catering to miners, loggers, Canadian truckers, and other horny male customers ing through Wallace on I-90. Because of the internationality of the world’s fair, FBI

agents were called in to investigate and close the brothels. Osburn was located between Kellogg and Wallace, Idaho. A logging and mining community, the Silver Valley, as it came to be known, encomed several small towns within a few minutes’ drive in either direction. Each small town had more than its fair share of bars. Silver Valley miners and loggers worked hard and played hard.

Chapter 8

1972

Many of the residents of North Idaho had a tough time deciding whether it was publicity for the houses or an honest effort to improve the image of the state prior to and during the world’s fair. The feds theoretically shut them down. Locals knew better. Steel emergency stairways were available in the alleyways behind, backing the brothels. Within weeks of closing, all four were back in business, ready to serve their influx of visitors from the east and west. Refusing a quick tour of the radio station, the ladies hurried back into the cab, quickly departing. Nile began to see a picture develop when he opened the box: peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches, which he had talked about many times while on air, handy wipes, small bags of coffee, and other hints of the box’s origin. A small note read, “Thank you. Many of us do not want to be here. You are the one bright spot at the end of our working day. Please burn this message after you read it. No one can see it, please.” There were several first-name signatures and the letters LX, LXT, O, and UI. Nile Rivers received calls each morning from several listeners. Half were reporting weather conditions at different locations within the radius of the AM station’s reach. The Elk Creek store, a market in Smelterville, various cabin dwellers located on the North Fork of the Couer d’Alene River, the towns of Kingston and Pinehurst were all donors. Each caller would information pertinent to their areas for Nile to broadcast. The same morning the cab arrived, a caller gave him a couple of locations where he could discover old, abandoned mines and tailings ponds that were grown over and hard to find. One of the mines was located on a road out of Wallace that the locals named Nine Mile. This morning a call-in regular named Clarence phoned to let Rivers know about the silver salmon run up on Kootenai Lake just over the

border in Canada. All would have to wait until he spent time figuring out what this morning’s visit was all about. Nile had taken the morning man job to gain experience in a popular time slot for listeners. The owners of the station noticed on Nile’s résumé that he was a pilot and enjoyed snow-skiing—both available as perks if he took the job.

Chapter 9

Spokane

Present day

Agent Jake Monroe of the Federal Bureau of Investigation was assigned to the Spokane area of Washington State. Entering his third year working in the same part of the country, Monroe had moved his family from Florida to Walla Walla. Finally ending his long departures from his wife and kids, Jake purchased a 1965 retractable Piper Comanche that afforded him more time with family. His quick flight home, when possible, was less than seventy-four air miles, making it home or to work in about sixty minutes pre-flight to wheels down. With the exception of the almost-weekly flights in and out of Walla Walla, he and his family presented no clues to his FBI affiliation. The Piper was hidden away upon landing in a small rented hanger at Geiger Field. Back in Walla Walla, the Piper was hangered on his own property next to his house in a privately owned airpark. Agent Monroe had partnered with Deputy Sergeant Abron Kelsey from the Spokane sheriff’s department. Dynamite and death had brought the two together the previous twenty-four months. Many questions remained unanswered. Several homicide investigations were ongoing. Killings related to those cases had finally abated. Two question marks had brought Abron and Jake back together: the double murder of two attorneys in the Newman Lake area and the recent lethal bomb blast meant for their law enforcement friends and coworkers in a restaurant explosion. Abron’s law enforcement career had started in the forensics field after a stint in the Marine Corps then finishing college at the University of Washington. His

captain at the Spokane sheriff’s office was the one that convinced Kelsey that he could bring more to the department if he were in the field as a hands-on investigator/detective. Abron Kelsey had recently completed his long-time project, studying law during off-hours. With the help and encouragement of Gonzaga University law professors, the State Bar Exam was now in his rearview mirror. As an investigator for the Spokane sheriff’s department, Kelsey’s value went through the ceiling. Abron’s first love was the former Isabel Davis, now Isabel Kelsey. Solving crimes committed came in a close second, but always second! Teamed with a slightly older FBI-schooled agent, Jake Monroe, the two believed that together the pieces of the puzzle still missing in the slaying of Assistant District Attorney Phyllis McCoy and her attorney husband, David McCoy, were within reach. Abon’s wife, Isabel, added an important weapon in their investigations. Izzy studied criminal profiling at Eastern Washington State College as post-graduate work. Izzy had been called on many times by the sheriff’s department for her expertise.

Chapter 10

Two Investigations

The body parts found at Liberty Lake were yielding new clues possibly linked to several ongoing investigations. Forensics pros were having a field day with the amateurish disposal of the victims: jeans with pockets; outerwear in different forms also had pockets, several of them containing items that would make it easier in the identification of the deceased; jewelry on fingers and necks; full sets of teeth in both craniums were providing a myriad of clues. As important as the earlier McCoy murders were, Jake, the agent, and Abron, the deputy, were presented a new set of problems from Liberty—turning their past investigations into labors of love after hours. Two years before the recent bombing, Jake and Abron were part of the McCoy investigation from the beginning. With the discovery of Bob’s and Phyliss’s bodies at Newman lake, for forensics personnel and the other half of their team, Deputies Domenico and O’Neal, the McCoy investigation was again heating up. “Could these new bodies at Liberty Lake be involved with the McCoys?” posed Abron to himself. “The two cases are slowly presenting signs of union and syndicate involvement.” Evidence discovered a year earlier had put a now-incarcerated mob-d union boss at the crime scene. The separate explosions at a condo, two houses, and the aluminum plant located northeast of Spokane were thought to have been solved with the incarceration and deaths of two explosive experts found in possession of stolen dynamite taken from the mines of Kellogg, Wallace, and Mullan, Idaho. When the recent brazen attack on the Italian restaurant downtown occurred, the explosion sent shock waves of fear through the civilian population and reopened old wounds within the sheriff’s department. The FBI’s final report to the

Spokane DA and sheriff’s department concerning the explosives and McCoy homicides pointed directly at Bryce McCallen, an incarcerated union boss that had been controlling union labor in the Spokane area. His long-awaited trial was to be held sometime in the middle of summer. The DA’s office felt their case was lacking in evidence, which in turn put added pressure on the sheriff for more answers. Only a minute piece of skin connected McCallen to the deaths of the McCoys. The double murder had been plaguing Spokane law enforcement the past two years, with no end in sight. Two deceased explosives experts were tied to McCallen through their union jobs.

Chapter 11

History of Union

Many of the answers the sheriff needed were lost when a union boss was gunned down by a freelance money-for-hire hitman. Union organizer, Bob Balicki, was killed in Montana the year before. This opened the door for Bob’s replacement, David Rutherford. Rutherford was in his thirty-seventh year, the last twelve spent in Seattle, where the construction industry had a minor high-rise boom downtown. Union activity was generating massive amounts of illegal money, under-the-table payments from construction companies, city officials, and legislators, all wanting a piece of the action. Though David looked much younger than most of the participants in the construction boom, his mystic kept most within his world in check. David Rutherford had earned millions for the bosses in Chicago over his tenure in Seattle. His entrance into the Spokane market was being tracked closely by the FBI. The bureau was well aware of his reputation. Of average size, David was stronger and more agile than looks would tell. His smarts had kept him two steps ahead of all law enforcement branches. Rutherford employed two assistants, both older, both intensely cold-blooded. Paul and George knew David had the final say. Both disagreed with several of his many vices: women, guns, sadistic cruelty to anyone who stood in the way of his job. Paul and George arrived together in Spokane after working under David for the past couple of years. Rutherford’s main bailiwick had two points of focus. Both concerns were impeding illegal money that used to flow out of eastern Washington to headquarters in Illinois. One of his issues meant dealing with Dillon Robinson, Cynthia Berdot, and Tony Bara, all incarcerated for reasons that would seem, at first glance, not to be related to Rutherford’s problems. The three were behind bars in connection with double homicides that had occurred over the previous three years.

All were earmarked by Rutherford on his “person-of-interest list.” The trio could hold a piece of the puzzle that eventually would lead law enforcement to the syndicate’s front door in Illinois. Eliminating the problem would not be easy. For the right price, it was possible. All three were at his disposal in holding tanks at two state penitentiaries.

Chapter 12

Bob Marshall Wilderness

1972

A ridge with a top altitude of 6,100 feet was quickly approaching the dark Cessna 210. No lights showing for the last sixty minutes, flying as low as possible between ridges, Johnny had piloted dozens of descents and assents in and out of the Bob Marshall Wilderness area, never in daylight or twilight. His military training had paid off big time. While in the Air Force, he took advantage of what the base flying club had to offer. Spending hundreds of hours behind the yoke of single and multiengine planes, Johnny was one of three black pilots learning the trade while at Malmstrom Air Force Base near Great Falls. Of the three, he was the only one with connections to Chicago. His father had a brother within the Chicago syndicate. Through the brother, Johnny’s hat would be thrown in the pot when and if a closed mouth pilot was needed. Johnny Dawson specialized in maintaining aircraft of all descriptions while serving, but his love of flying outdistanced everything in his life after leaving the Air Force. It took little convincing by his uncle before Johnny stepped into a cool onehundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar-a-year job. The move had everything a young man could ask for: danger, free flying time, untraceable cash, and weeks of time off to enjoy life’s pleasures. Two seats were empty as he approached the final ridge. The 210 could hold a cramped six engers including the pilot, but within these mountains the lighter the aircraft, the better. He flew with half-filled fuel tanks and little if no luggage. engers would have everything they needed upon arrival at their final destination. As the Cessna barely missed the pine-covered ridge, Johnny

tilted the left wingtip down and gave it right rudder, slipping the plane, losing altitude as quickly as possible. The rapid descent was unnerving for his engers. His maneuver kept the plane almost parallel to the descending side of the mountain, down into the darkness. Johnny had already spotted the glowing red markers that would guild him into the abandoned forest service runway. Depending on his load, coming out of the narrow valley usually took two, sometimes three, trips around the airstrip to gain enough altitude to clear the ridge and depart the pristine valley. Approaching the first red beacon with full flaps, he had the plane barely able to maintain flight. When his stall warning came on, Dawson eased the nose down just enough to stabilize the plane. When they were about two hundred yards from touchdown, he switched the landing lights on. It had happened before with a grizzly bear. On this night a cow moose and her calf were standing in his landing zone. The pilot went full throttle with no panic and began to climb slowly while switching off his landing lights. The next time around the runway was clear. Johnny set the Cessna down and switched off all lights while choking the gas. A black Lincoln navigator was slowly approaching. When next to the plane, two burly men greeted Johnny, and the exchange began. On this night the cargo had nothing to do with illegal drugs. Tonight’s cargo was harder to conceal and much harder to control. Up to this point, the young ladies thought they were going to meet American husbands. While deplaning, they were immediately hurried into the black SUV. At the same time, three other girls were being forced hastily out of the navigator and into the plane. The arrival’s indoctrination had begun. All five of the ladies in transit were told that the man in the back seat was the plane’s navigator. Armed with a no-nonsense look, he controlled the ladies with his stare. Dawson’s next destination took the Cessna 210 to Nevada, requiring one fuel stop in Bozeman. With the added weight onboard and flying around restricted areas, the 210 didn’t have the fuel capacity to fly straight through into Las Vegas.

Chapter 13

Nile Makes Friends

1972

Off the air at ten thirty each morning, Nile spent about an hour in-studio, producing commercials and setting up bits for the following morning. The few people outside of the radio station Nile had met came from his time at the local tavern less than a mile away. Carrington greeted him when he walked in and sat down at the bar that late morning. Carrington Russell was the owner and main bartender. On weekday nights he departed for home at seven. Friday, Saturday, and Sunday the bar offered up live music—loud, familiar, hard rock of the day. The Black Rock Gulch Boogie Brothers band was popular. Well known throughout the region, they were the house band but played other venues from Coeur d’Alene to Missoula during ski season at the different resorts. What a surprise for Carrington when Nile asked about his visit from some young ladies at five forty that same snowy morning. The mustachioed grin slowly grew larger, and Carrington said, “We are blessed with four dens of iniquity up the road in Wallace.” “Dens of iniquity?” asked Nile. “Whorehouses.” Nile’s pause said everything. “Illegal, possibly. Needed? Very much so. They do more for this school district than our own tax dollars. All three high schools have band instruments donated, new uniforms every other year, and a thousand other advantages over outside school districts. The money comes from an anonymous source.” About that time Kirby and Terry came through the door and pulled up a barstool

close to Nile. “Nile here is the new morning man on our radio station. He was visited by several ladies earlier this morning that arrived by taxi. Didn’t you say they had a care package for you?” A twelve-ounce glass of tap beer had recently jumped a dime to thirty-five cents. By noon all three at the bar were into their fourth or fifth glass. The bartender ordered pizza to be delivered. “It’s called window-shopping,” said Kirby. “Nothing wrong with it,” added Terry. Carrington, Kirby, and Terry all took a liking to Nile that day and offered to escort him on a shopping trip later that night. “It’s a good idea to stay under the cover of dark even though nobody cares. Most people on the street after nine or ten o’clock on weekdays are coming out of bars, trying to figure out how to get home. Let’s meet up at the Elks lodge at nine.” “Elks lodge?” asked Nile. “You’re not an Elk? You have to . That’s part of the fun in Wallace. Do you blow a bugle or play a snare drum?” Eddy Arnold’s “Welcome to My World” was humming through the DJ’s thoughts. This is crazy, but I like it, he thought. Nile answered, “I’ve done some time behind a trap set.” “You’re in,” howled Terry. All three agreed that Nile should fill out the paperwork and the Elks that same night. They also began filling Nile in on the Elks drum and bugle corp., laughingly known as the drunken bugle corp. by most in Idaho’s Silver Valley. Later that evening, after dinner and a sober-up, the four met at the Elks.

Chapter 14

Spokane, Washington, Sheriff’s Department

Captain Saunders began the week with an exceptionally long meeting with his deputies. “Last year two felons that used dynamite were killed during our investigations, closing case files that we thought put an end to this gruesome form of terror. With the arrest of Dillon Robinson, our department gained the identity of two more persons of interest that used dynamite to do their talking. We all were led to believe that this type of crime was behind us. “The purposely set explosions at Newman Lake, Otis Orchard, and our aluminum plant in Washington, plus the explosions in Idaho at Avery and Rose lake, were all connected to dynamite from our local mines. “With the help of the FBI, the main source of explosives has been shut down. The problem was thought to have been staid. Our own Deputies Abron, Terry, Ron, and Sal came close to losing their lives by a new team of dynamiters less than a week ago. Could they be Robinson’s cousins? “We have a basic description of these guys through the camera information at the scene in downtown Spokane. The perps used plain old fire and fuse for the detonation. It’s up to us to find out the reasoning behind this sort of chaos and killing. “The bureau is working on a former union head Bryce McCallan, doing time in Orofino. Bryce was linked to union corruption, but more importantly, as you know, Mr. McCallan left DNA evidence at the scene of our McCoy murders. “His time in jail is minimal without further proof of his greater involvement in the deaths of ADA Phyllis McCoy and her husband, Attorney David McCoy. The person taking his place within our local union fold came out of Seattle.

David Rutherford now resides out of state near Flathead Lake, Montana. The same residence of the former Bob Balicki. “The FBI is watching David and two close assistants of his, diligently. Each of our teams of deputies has been assigned specific areas of investigation into the downtown bombing. Stay focused within your teams. Assignments may not seem important on the surface, but each of you has a piece of the puzzle that could wrap up both of this department’s main unsolved cases. “It has been whispered within our ranks of letting deputy Abron Kelsey interrogate Bryce McCallen. The FBI has different thoughts, and our medical expenses cannot handle any more injury incidents to the populace within our jail system.” With a slight grin, the meeting came to adjournment.

Chapter 15

Lake Couer d’Alene Bodies

Across Lake CDA from Plummer and the CDA Indian reservation on the lower east side of the lake is a small boat launch for anglers that allows them access to the waters and fish of Lake Couer d’Alene. The launch and other amenities for fishermen are located at Harrison. Within a week of the meeting between sheriff’s deputies and Captain Saunders, excitement and curiosity were spiking at the Harrison location. It started with a cell-phone call to the resort from a rented boat. “I think we have found a body in the lake,” the angler reported. News spread quickly from CDA Captain June Croop to Captain Saunders in Spokane, both aware of the bodies recently discovered at Liberty Lake. “It’s the torso of a woman. A young woman,” said June. “Captain, we have divers just arriving and the torso being examined by forensics at the morgue. Doesn’t it seem strange, the timing of bodies appearing at Liberty Lake and now Couer d’Alene Lake within two weeks?” “Two female victims and one male,” answered Shawn. “Our dive team is still searching at Liberty. Several body parts were discovered yesterday. Something’s afoot. I think we’re in this together, just as we were at Rose Lake over the past few years.” With the recent bombing of the Italian restaurant that caused death and injury, Captain Shawn Saunders’s life was becoming more complicated and much darker. His investigative teams were solid with seasoned pros being aided by Jake Monroe from the bureau, still assigned to his command. Several of his deputies and their spouses were victims of that most recent

bombing. They all escaped, shaken but unharmed. “June, let’s set up a meet on Wednesday, say, nine a.m.?” “Your place or mine?” she responded. “Post Falls, at our satellite office. I’m bringing seven deputies and Jake. Let’s put it all on the table.”

Chapter 16

Window Shopping

1972

The four had eaten dinner and basically sobered up from their initial planning meeting at Carrington’s bar. Nile was given the papers he needed to the Elks, and the boys gave him a quick tour of the lodge after enjoying a Heidelberg at the bar. At ten p.m. it was time to begin shopping. Kirby reminded them that this was a “window shopping” trip and nothing more. Three out of the four adventurers had to be at work early the next morning. First stop opened up a different world to Nile. The ladies of the night entered and greeted the four would-be customers. Nile was in disbelief. It was Kirby who kept the guys moving to the next bordello. The Oasis had basically the same set up of rooms and introductory methods. Kirby, Terry, and David noticed a smile and nod between Nile and one of the ladies. It was Terry this time that pushed the other three out the door and headed for home. Small talk walking back to the Elks parking lot was aimed at Nile. “Was she one of the ladies that delivered your care package?” asked Kirby. “It was hard to tell at first glance. Both girls had their hair up in curlers this morning, wore bathrobes and overcoats. It was hard to quit looking at the full package while trying to identify them.” Terry howled. The laughter began. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” stated Nile.

“Is it expensive?” All three of his mentors played dumb. “How would we know?” said Terry. Carrington spoke up and replied, “I’ve heard it’s addicting.” All four began to laugh as they said their goodbyes.

Chapter 17

Freezers

It was a strange order out of Chicago for David Rutherford. He immediately called his cohorts. They met at a bar in Whitefish, Montana. “I don’t know what’s inside them. The boss said they would be heavy and require some thought as to how to make them disappear. I’ve never been inside the building. Chicago is sending schematics of the place with the location of our target marked. Paul, I need you to do a look-see and report back. George and you shouldn’t be seen together in Wallace.” It was a quiet weekday night at the Elks. Like many fraternal organizations across America, new blood was hard to find. The Elks, Moose, IOOF, Eagles, Lions, even VFW and Veterans lodges were thinning rapidly. Hundreds of empty buildings now stood without life across America. The Wallace Lodge in North Idaho was hanging in there, still open, clinging to memories of packed events within the lodge walls. Walking up the wide concrete front steps and entering, Paul stepped into a beautiful reception area. Long, wide, with what seemed to be a sixteen-foot ceiling, Paul was staring across the entryway at the antique 1800s imported bar and backdrop the next room over. The entire bar makeup was said to have been imported from Europe. Presenting his Elks card to the bartender, the out-of-town guest was poured a complimentary scotch and soda. Paul Luna was the right pick by Rutherford. David favored him because of his gift of gab and ability to befriend practically anyone at any time. Luna was born to a Basque father and Mexican mom in Tecate, Mexico, finding his way to Chicago through the thriving illegal drug trade between the United States and their southern neighbors.

Fair skinned, five feet, eleven inches, and slender, he appeared to some as a Latin gigolo. Ordering a second drink, the bartender, while pouring, asked Luna if he’d like a tour of the building. “A building with this unique architecture was the last thing I expected to find in Wallace, Idaho. Yes, a tour would be appreciated.”

Chapter 18

The Tour

Paul was given a tour of the building. All three stories plus the basement when he asked. His tour guide was the maintenance man, a thirty-something-year-old that obviously had a drinking problem. This should be easy, Luna thought. Biding his time and conversing with his guide, Paul tried to sound interested in everything the maintenance man was saying. Luna needed to learn the size of the exit doors and where they were located in proximity to the streets surrounding the Elks lodge. Paul’s prayers were answered when he was shown a basement entrance/exit, where stores were unloaded. A concrete ramp led down from ground level to the basement level where the freezers should be located. When his tour guide got a call from above to check something out, Luna saw his chance. Giving his guide the slip by pretending to “find his own way out,” Paul slipped into a restroom on the main level. A minute later, he checked the hallways for life. Luna took the stairway back to the basement and the locked cubby hole he was looking for, covered over by an assortment of desks, chairs, and bookcases, stacked over the years in front of a virtually hidden doubledoored entryway. The door had been barred and locked. He took a quick check of his schematics, making sure this was the right door. Paul Luna slipped out of the Elks and called Rutherford.

Chapter 19

More Bodies

The caller spoke, “Shawn? This is June Croop.” After exchanging pleasantries, June began to fill Captain Saunders in on new developments. “Another body, or I should say parts of a different body, have been discovered near the same area of Couer d’Alene lake that the first parts were found this week. Same condition as our first and your Liberty Lake find.” Saunders reciprocated with more forensics findings, “June, our team has found some incredible anomalies with our bodies. All the parts out of Liberty Lake were frozen for several decades before their introduction into Liberty. We’ve already begun DNA analysis and have found a possible match via living relatives. More importantly, we have a missing person report from 1973 in your backyard of Shoshone County.” “Any gender results?” asked June. “Our missing person was a male, twenty-two years old. The other body is female.” A slight pause on the phone and Captain Croop answered, “Both of our bodies are females.” “I’ll send you the report labeled Frozen. Good hunting, June. See your team on Wednesday.” When the meeting of the two departments took place in Post Falls, each side presented pictures of the different parts of the bodies. All agreed the bodies were butchered in the same fashion. The meeting was scheduled with an underlying cause that both captains believed was necessary. The year before several

deputies were found to have been on the take in a multilevel crime. Two deputies from CDA were involved; both were murdered by a superior officer, also on the take. Shawn and June wanted the deputies from both states to meet, get to know one another, and develop trust between the two departments.

Chapter 20

Proposal

Isabel, Tammy, Greta, and Vale had become a team. All four of their husbands or boyfriends worked for the Spokane sheriff’s office. The four ladies belonged to a bunco club that met once a month. Vale was the newest member. She and detective Ron Rowe had ed forces. Two months earlier, Ron asked her if she and her two young children would move in with him. Vale ed the tale Ron had told her of Isabel telling Abron, “Not until we’re married.” Vale used the same tack, “Your apartment is too small for all four of us, and it wouldn’t look right to the kids.” Ron immediately asked her to go for a ride and bring her two children. Fifteen minutes into the jaunt, he pulled into a driveway leading to a two-story house. Landscaped beautifully, nestled on a two-hundred-feet-by-two-hundred-feet fenced lot. Slowly he idled the car toward the three-car garage as the large door was opening. When inside the door behind them closed, silence fell all around them. Both kids were wide-eyed in the back seat. Vale was, for the moment, speechless as she turned her head toward the driver. “It’s all of ours, if you’ll marry me?” Ron was holding a diamond ring. Tonight was bunco: twelve , four per table to begin five rounds of play. Each member would host the game once a year. The hostess would provide dinner for all. It was Vale’s turn this month. All of the Bunco players were excited to see Vale and Ron’s new house. Earlier, before Ron and the kids departed to the nearby pizza place, detective Rowe had barbecued a twelvepound beef brisket. Detective Rowe used a southwest-style sage rub prior to outdoor cooking. Peggy

had prepared small new golden potatoes baked with an olive oil, sage, and garlic rub. She had added the slightest taste of paprika to the potatoes when they came out of the oven. Adding a Caesar salad and her favorite brussels sprouts roasted in almond chips, garlic, olive oil, and drained chopped bacon. The feast was on before the Bunco began. The eleven other bunco visitors had no idea that Vale was a former baker. After bunco, they would indulge in her own recipe of Boston cream pie.

Chapter 21

Tristen

1972

Nile signed off his shift for the day, heading straight back to his apartment to contemplate his next encounter with the girl from Wallace, not allowing himself to venture into the local bar, where the day before he had made more friends. Nile had brought several ts of marijuana with him to his new town of employment. This would be the first time he would take a hit or two since moving to northern Idaho. ing what his dad had told him, “This isn’t like the old days when I was in the service. Be careful with it, or it will knock you on your ass.” Nile had made up his mind. Overload was approaching. He needed to relax and ponder the events of the past seventy-two hours. There was something about her. Short, dark hair, cute, and a beautiful body. When she gave him the care package, only a couple of words were spoken. He thought she spoke with a foreign accent. She was definitely a hooker but acted strangely aloof, as if she didn’t want to be a part of the trade. That night he went back to the Oasis, flying solo. She was the second one to enter. “How much for forty-five minutes of your time?” he asked. “For-tee,” she replied. It was an exciting new experience, even though half the time was spent trying to communicate through her language barrier. “Tristen,” she replied when asked her name.

“Really?” he asked. “To you only. Oasis name Lana.” Nile loved her accent. He asked, “Where are you from originally?” “The U-kraine,” she slowly replied. “This may seem strange to you, but is there any way I can see you outside of this place?” he asked. “Not permitted. I soon be Nevada this many week.” She held up five fingers. Nile asked, “May I come back tomorrow night?” “Da, Tristen, um, how you say? Like dat.” There was a light knock at the door. “We are five minutes. You leave.” Nile asked, “May I kiss you?” “Not permitted.” Tristen then wrapped her nude body around him and kissed him deeply for what Nile thought was two or three minutes. Nile’s head was spinning as he walked down the stairs and onto the street. He would visit Tristen again soon.

Chapter 22

Drunk and Bugle Corp.

1972

The first night of practice with the Elks drum and bugle corp. lasted about fortyfive minutes before somebody yelled, “Beer forty,” and the fun began. Sixty men, thirty drummers, thirty buglers. Two or three Heidelberg, Old Blue, or Rainiers were guzzled down before everyone departed. The marching band was getting ready for the annual Kellogg parade quickly approaching. Nile had no problem mastering the marching tunes on the first night. The Elks only knew three—simple but effective, even impressive in some instances, which he would soon discover. Nile drifted slowly out of the Elks lodge and took his time getting to a small allnight café and lounge around the corner. Ordering coffee and a piece of pie, he took his time consuming them. The stall was to make sure most of his fellow D and B were out of sight. It was now after midnight when he slipped into the stairway to the Oasis. Nile was bolder this time, asking to see Tristen. When she came into the room, she whispered, “I hope was Nile.” “Nile, rules, if I break, we danger da?” she whispered again, nodding to a camera lens placed in the fake tree positioned behind her. He began to speak, but she interrupted, saying, “Take off clothes, no question.” Once on top of him, she leaned over his face and said, “Big danger here. I no wwant be prisoner.” “Can I meet you someplace away from here?” he asked.

“I am two nights begin Monday. Bus to Mizzila where room hotel. Free time, no be caught, rules. Shop, eat meals, Peggy, Tristen. Eyes on us, um, whole days. Is goot see Nile big shopping house. Help me?” she asked. While she was managing to attend to his sexual needs, they planned a time and place to meet in Missoula. On the way to his apartment, he was wondering what he had gotten himself into. Young, horny, and in a different part of the country than he was used to, Nile was consumed with thoughts of Tristen.

Chapter 23

Orofino

Present day

Deputy Abron Kelsey and FBI Agent Jake Monroe were flying down to the Idaho correctional institution in Orofino. Although not a federal penitentiary, Orofino had an area for offenders needing protective custody. Spokane and Couer d’Alene prosecutors needed Bryce McCallen close by, the feds agreed. Bryce was locked away, under Orofino’s supervision. Among the many inmates the pen was holding, Dillon Robinson stood out, especially for Jake and Abron. Though Robinson and McCallen never met, they were aware of the other’s reputation. No good cop, bad cop in this meeting with Bryce. The interrogation was intended to plant a seed in McCallen’s thoughts. That seed included Dillon and his ability to kill without remorse. As a ruse, Monroe and Kelsey spent an hour offering several different deals to Bryce. All were ploys leading to further information about the slaughter of the McCoys. “Did you know, the man accused of gunning down Balicki and his female associate on that front doorstep is imprisoned here with you?” stated Jake. Both interrogators noticed a slight change in attitude with a tad higher pitch to McCallen’s voice. Bryce was beginning to feel the need for outside help. “You can’t miss him in the yard. He’s the guy with several deep scars on his face. One knife cut just missed taking out his right eye. He’s a tough kid. I almost had to shoot him before I found my knife,” commented Abron. As the two law enforcement officers got up to leave, Jake mentioned casually, “Abron and I will handle your extradition to Spokane and again to Missoula,

personally.” Along with the four-year sentence he was facing in Washington State, Montana wanted him extradited to face further charges. Four different felonies stemming from his dealings with the aluminum factory near Spokane—all four involving interstate transfer of contaminated/hazardous waste materials tied to several homicides. Facing years of hard time, if convicted, former union boss Bryce McCallen began to search and categorize his options. He knew being in any cell made him a sitting duck for his higher-ups. Recognizing the danger, his next few moves would have to be carefully planned and hidden from view of all concerned with his activities.

Chapter 24

Cleanup Begins

The destruction of almost a third of Theodore and Shiela’s restaurant was devastating to Tammy’s parents. Thanks to her uncle that owned a second Italian restaurant near the airport, repairs began immediately. With her parents, uncle, and aunt, Sal and the twins together seated around a table dining, Theodore asked Sal for an update on the crime. “Our team, along with the FBI, are leaning away from any of your family being a target. We do believe that Abron, Isabel, Ron, Terry Hollander, and I are all suspect as intended victims. All of us were working on the same case over the last eighteen months.” “The McCoys?” Theodore asked. “The murderers have yet to be found,” answered Sal. Changing the subject, Sal asked about Leona, Theodore’s barmaid that was in intensive care. “By the grace of God, she’s going to make it. Leona has one two-year old daughter and a loving husband, with a good job out at the aluminum works. Her family is watching and waiting for her to come home. We are all making sure nobody goes hungry,” Theodore answered. Shiela wanted to know if there were any ideas of who would do such a dirty, ungodly thing. “We have several promising leads in the works.” Then he stopped talking and asked, “What’s the difference between Manicotti and Cannelloni on the menu?” again changing the subject. All went quiet. The questions were over. Tammy made a slight gagging,

coughing sound. Theodore answered, “We have the opposite of my brother’s menu. Our manicotti contains meat. The cannelloni is stuffed with spinach and ricotta.” Dining began again. Tammy Caine and Sal Domenico had become intense lovers. Over time Tammy was given an insider’s view of the investigation. She and Sal had agreed to keep her parents out of the loop. Information to them would just hinder their ability to get back to normalcy.

Chapter 25

The Investigation

“Several different cameras captured views from different angles of our perps at work. Because of the hats, masks, and coveralls they were wearing, we couldn’t, at first, ID either one. The truck came out of a lube and oil shop that had an outer bay door open. No lights anywhere in or out of the shop. The steering wheel had been wired to move straight forward when it was put in gear,” stated Deputy Bradley. “At first?” Shawn queried. “I wished we would have counted the number of times our team went over each camera output. Then times that by the number of eyes we had on it. It took us most of a second day before Kelly spotted it.” Bradley had everyone’s attention. “I’ll use slow motion when we get near the meaty part.” Deputy Bradley slowed the playback. “Look closely at the tall guys left inside boot shot. Then take a look at another view showing the outside of the same boot.” “What is it?” asked O’Neal. Shawn jumped in with an explanation before anyone could speak, “Those braces were common when I was growing up. We were dealing with polio back then. Many of the victims of the disease were fitted with boots that had metal running through the heel. The metal went straight up the person’s leg, on both sides, attaching to a brace fitted just below or above and below the knee. A lot of people have been wearing that type of brace for years. Jim, you and Robert find out who still makes and supplies that type of boot or shoe in our valley. See if anyone with that type of boot works at the lube shop.” Captain Saunders was shaking his head when he muttered to everyone in the room, “One tiny beam of light reflected off a half inch of metal in the dark of night. I guess that’s why forensics makes the big bucks.”

The atmosphere in the room softened. “Both of these guys staged a gruesome assassination attempt, killing one and injuring many. The perps tried to kill and maim over two dozen innocents of Spokane. Ron, you, Terry, Abron, and Sal stay out of the door-to-door search. Our perps may see you coming. O’Neal, you and your team start tomorrow morning when business hours begin.” This wasn’t the first time Captain Saunders was impressed by the abilities of his CSI and forensics departments. What a hire, he thought with a smile, Kelly and Joi both.

Chapter 26

Dillon’s Cousins

Agent Jake Monroe and Deputy Abron Kelsey were flying back from Orofino, Idaho, when Jake received a text from his home base with the FBI.

Explosives used in Spokane restaurant case determined to be TNT used in mining. Traced to Helena Montana. Half of the missing TNT from their stores, not used in incident. Attaching name and location of missing TNT. —Fosse, Head Office

“Dillon’s cousins,” stated Abron. “Those guys are connected to the bombing of my home and the bombing of the McCoys’ house on Newman Lake. Now this?” Jake reminded Kelsey, “Still several million dollars in gold coins and gold bars in the wind from our professors.” “Dillon,” Abron noted a second time. “I’m surprised his cousins are still hanging around, unless the cousins don’t have access to the entire cache,” Jake surmised and added, “How did our dynamiters know we all would be at Agostino’s restaurant that night.?” “Jake, somebody is pulling the strings, and I don’t think that someone is behind bars,” said Kelsey. “Any ideas?” asked Jake. “We need to talk to Rutherford and McCallen, then somehow threaten Dillon,”

Kelsey answered. “Have your sources checked for any more of those twenty-dollar gold pieces coming up for sale?” asked Abron. “I’ll call when we’re on the ground. I’ve also been wondering about those offshore s the agency found that were connected to the Rose Lake fiasco. I wonder where all that money went. Wouldn’t it be something if it just sits there and collects interest for the next twenty-plus years? Bara and Berdot could live life on easy street if paroled.” “We know Dillon’s cousins can’t hide forever, but the missing millions would almost make it possible if the two are smart.” “Then there’s Dillon’s revenge? You know he’s festering. It could have been the cousins that set up the bombing at Agostino’s.” Abron then spoke slowly and confidently, “Dillon Robinson’s cousins don’t have the wherewithal to pull that off. Robinson will try and take revenge through them. The Monroes and Kelseys will see future danger. Dillon is extremely smart and has the ability of a hunter to be patient. Jake, we don’t have more than three or four months before things start getting dicey. You and I have got to find out how Dillon will communicate with the cousins from behind bars. When we have that intel, we have the cousins. I spoke with Saunders last night about Boot Brace and his cronies. Does the FBI have any confidential informants in Orofino?” Jake was ready with an answer, “Three. All very hidden and street smart CIs. Our agents have been in touch with them. Tonight I’ll give my people the orders on what to look for in Dillon’s movements and start the ball rolling on those offshore s.”

Chapter 27

Agostino’s

Tammy and Sal knew going in that they would need backup with Tammy’s parents, Shiela and Theodore. Since the explosion and death, her parents wouldn’t go near the restaurant. Theodore had his manager and head chef overseeing the reconstruction work. Ron and Vale along with Abron and Isabel had spent time rehearsing their lines. Tammy had tutored the four a day earlier. “It had to do with the sheriff’s office. We have a loose cannon out there that is taking square aim at our deputies. Your restaurant should open as soon as it’s completed,” stated Abron. “You know how people love your place,” added Ron. Then Vale said, “ the crowds every dinner hour. Your menu is the envy of everyone. Think of your longtime customers.” It was Sal Domenico that added the clincher when he strayed off script and surprised everyone there. “I’ve wanted to propose to your daughter in your restaurant, among family and friends, since you told everyone that I’m good for Tammy and your grandkids. Then you added, I’m Italian. Shiela, I would really like to call you Mom.” A grand opening went into the planning stages immediately. The bartender killed in the explosion was laid to rest three weeks earlier. The waitress was rehabbing at home. She would eventually bartend at Agostino’s.

Chapter 28

Revenge

Dillon’s cousins were a million dollars loyal to him. The amount that they were able to get their hands on while their first cousin, Dillon Robinson, was doing his time at Orofino. Faced with the knowledge that he would never be released from prison, or possibly executed, Dillon began working on ways to hide his cousins in plain sight while directing them to do his bidding. Never dropping below a low boil, revenge would be doled out to Deputy Abron Kelsey and Agent Jake Monroe. His extended stay in the hospital and the number of operations to keep him alive were the product of one deputy with a blade, Abron Kelsey. Dillon was also certain he could only have been found at Clarkston because of Agent Monroe. Robinson’s cousins were former ruffians that luckily had never been arrested for a felony. Both eventually were accepted at a trade school for prison guards and personal. Before Robinson’s criminal career began, he had taken the two under his wing. His first cousin’s parents had already disavowed and disowned them as teens. Convincing his cousins to work for a better life, he helped them through the trade school months until they graduated and landed jobs within the prison system. Robert and Allen Hartline had pulled a Houdini disappearing act after the death of a high-profile inmate found hanging within his cell. The dead inmate had partnered with Dillon during a crime spree that included several murders and bombings. Before the inmate was murdered, Robinson had convinced his relatives he was being fingered by the jailbird falsely. The cousins had access to the cell. At that time, the prisoner was the only one behind a possible long-term prison stay for Dillon.

Both Hartlines knew that Robinson had a lot of money stashed away, enough to give them both a life of luxury out of country. Robert and Allen were also loyal to a point because of their blood relationship. Not much was known about the hidden brothers except their fingerprints. Information on the two was sparse at best. They had never married, committed a felony, or bought a house. Bank s were abandoned before their crime spree started. Still onboard a flight back to Spokane, the agent and the deputy were conversing. “Dillon told us his cousins dynamited the McCoys’ home. But why?” asked Jake. “Unless it’s another ruse thrown in our face,” answered Abron. “Is it possible that the two could be doing double duty? Sharing two bosses? Each boss not privy to the other?” Jake in an instant knew that Abron was on to something. “When do we interview Dillon and Bryce again?” he questioned Kelsey.

Chapter 29

Johnny Dawson, Pilot

1972

Johnny Dawson’s dad had taught him well. Dawson junior emitted no signs of wealth; even moderate buying was carefully calculated. The 210 Cessna he used in work was hangered in Great Falls whenever possible. Ownership of the plane could not be traced to him. Johnny paid for fuel and maintenance with cash, only dealing with people he knew and trusted. The 1970 Cessna 210 had low time on the engine and airframe. An important part of the illegal operations that John Dawson was working on had to do with the airworthiness of the plane. The 210, like the original drug trade mule Cessna 206, could carry a heavy payload, no matter what the product. The difference between these workhorses was the fixed gear of the 206, which caused the loss of speed compared to the retractable landing gear of the 210. Major problems for Dawson and his transport included the watchful eye of the Federal Aviation istration, Drug Enforcement Agency, FBI, and all law enforcement agencies involved with local and regional airports. He needed to keep the plane looking as close to new as he could, knowing a junky airplane was like a red flag to observers. To this end, his s had created a safe haven for his Cessna and others under maintenance located at Salt Lake City. There the bosses employed several “airframe and powerplant” mechanics, A&Ps, and two of their own “aviation inspectors,” or AIs. Dawson was more than a little nervous about flying into Salt Lake on this trip. Recently he had picked up from one of the A&Ps that their shop was now maintaining several cartel aircraft. Earning the trust of his employers over the

last couple of years enabled Dawson to take care of his day-to-day aircraft maintenance out of a small hanger in Libby, Montana. Dawson had earned his A&P certificate while in the Air Force. The bosses flew in an AI whenever need be from Salt Lake City for inspections. Libby became Johnnie’s go-to landing strip whenever a problem occurred. Keeping his logbooks, pilot license, aircraft registration, airworthiness certificate, along with a current medical certificate was paramount. Most of the major worst-case scenarios could be avoided with paperwork. His only real concern was landing with products and having a “ramp inspection.” The FAA, although rarely used, had that authority over small planes and airports. Going through his preflight and beginning his run-ups, Dawson knew this was going to be a long night and early morning. Beginning just a short hop away from Libby, he would drop into the forest service runway in the Bob Marshall Wilderness area. His pickup would include cash and two engers headed for Pahrump, Nevada. As always, an enforcer would travel with him. Because of an extra pickup at Salt Lake City, he would be spending the daylight hours sleeping in Nevada before the return trip. The way home also included an extra stop in Beatty, Nevada. Beatty engers were headed back to Missoula via the Bob Marshall Wilderness area. Many hours of piloting his dangerous cargo around the northwest were beginning to wear on Johnny. The dangers involved with his job kept him sharp. A small mistake anywhere along the line would open him to law enforcement or syndicate retaliation. Dawson was planning on flying for his Chicago bosses until his uncle was no longer a part of their organization. He hid his longings for a family and normal life as if his life depended on it.

Chapter 30

David Rutherford

Jake and Abron were given the clearance to confront David Rutherford across state lines in Montana. Jake’s FBI director had opened all doors. The agent and the deputy were beginning a long-term series of events that could solve more than one mystery. Through intel the two knew Rutherford was home alone. David had installed an electric gate at the entrance to his driveway. Hearing the buzz in, he demanded through the intercom, “State your name and business.” A small light shown below a camera mounted on the brick base that held the gate. Another camera was noticed by Abron on the brick base that held the gate latch. “Agent Monroe, FBI, and Deputy Abron Kelsey, Spokane sheriff’s department,” stated Jake. “We are here to speak with David Rutherford.” Giving the two a hard time, David asked, “Any ID?” Both lawmen flashed their badges and photo IDs. Driving slowly through the gate, Abron pointed at the cross fencing inside the compound between them and the house. Two German Shephard watchdogs inside the cross fence stood out. “He’s making no issue of paranoia, or his guarding of secrets,” mentioned Jake. Before they opened the car doors, the dogs quickly, on cue, disappeared through a dog door cut through the outside wall of the house. “You’re safe. Come on in,” sounded a voice from an outside speaker.

“What’s this all about?” asked David. Jake took the lead, “You’re Balicki’s replacement, right?” Rutherford nodded. “That’s common knowledge. I coordinate union activities throughout Washington, Idaho, and Montana.” To the point, Jake jumped on his last word before it was finished, “New evidence was uncovered in the two-year-old murders of Assistant District Attorney Phyllis McCoy, and her husband, David McCoy, a defense attorney in Spokane. We’ve found written information that the union you represent had a deal with the McCoys that concerned union moneys.” “We’re unlocking Phyliss McCoy’s hard drive. So far, besides the money, your union forerunners, Balicki and McCallen, have been implicated. All three of you reps are being paid out of Chicago.” Rutherford was prepared. Nonchalantly he addressed both visitors, “You’ll have to fill me in on what you’re talking about. I just took this post a few months ago. Am I into something I know nothing about?” Abron spoke, “Bryce McCallen’s DNA was found at the McCoys’ residence in the same room where she was stabbed to death. We have Bryce in lockup. I’ll be talking to him soon. We’re just waiting for our computer people to tell us more about what’s in the McCoy computer.” The DNA find had been kept under lock and key until now. The effect was obvious. David spouted, “I never met the previous person that held my position within the union.” Jake interrupted, “We have surveillance that shows you Bryce and Balicki having dinner in Missoula three years ago.” There was a slight pause from Rutherford.

Abron asked, “Do you know Paul Luna or George Cassidy?” Again, a pause. Rutherford was reeling but kept his composure. “Guys, are you here to arrest me?” he asked. Jake threw the last dart for this visit, “Did George, Paul, or any of your known associates have polio or anything else that would cause him to wear a metal boot brace on his leg?” “If you’re not here to arrest me, you’ll have to excuse me. I have a sit-down in Spokane tomorrow morning. My room has been booked for tonight, and I’m in the middle of packing an overnight bag.” As the agent and deputy were exiting, Kelsey asked, “Is your room anywhere near the Agostino Italian Restaurant?” When he saw the gate close behind the visitors, David began to write his thoughts down on paper. What just happened put him in a place he’d never been. His first thought was on Kelsey, the intimidator. Rutherford had seen and heard about his style of interrogation and his fighting skills, though just a deputy. David had also been told of Jake Monroe, his wife, and his children. Abron has a young wife named Isabel, he thought. Four pawns.

Chapter 31

Safety Net

Abron was driving this time on the way back from Whitefish. “What we just did is going to hit Chicago before we make it back to Spokane,” uttered Jake. “I’ll call Shawn and put your safety net in effect.” Shaking up the Chicago organization currently in place was like swatting a hornet’s nest. They both knew people’s lives could be at stake. When Kelsey agreed, Jake made the call. Their own wives, kids, and colleagues would be in danger for several months. Security cameras had been placed inside and outside of Deputy’s homes. Surveillance schedules were in place. Shawn alerted the bureau as to Jake’s call. The FBI assigned extra agents to keep eyes on all the union players and Chicago associates within the northwest. “I’m glad Dillon isn’t in the equation anymore,” stated Jake. Abron replied, “I’m getting the feeling that the syndicate could be more dangerous, if that’s possible.” Dillon Robinson was in Orofin for an extended stay. Dillon had been paid to kill a sheriff’s deputy and an assistant district attorney. Robinson had also killed two organized labor representatives. It was believed by law enforcement that he held the key to millions of dollars in found gold coins that dated back to the 1890s. Dillon was also connected to the killing of Joe and Wesley Nelson in a double homicide at their home, though never proven guilty. Robinson was known to be dangerous, even when behind bars. He controlled his two cousins on the outside through their blood loyalty and money. Bob and Allen had killed for Robinson before.

Abron and Jake enjoyed the hunt for clues pertaining to current investigations. Neither man was happy when their loved ones were in danger. Agent Jake Monroe was more accustomed to providing safety for his family, having been schooled in keeping his wife and kids safe over the last dozen years while he was away working cases for the bureau. Sitting next to Abron in the car, Jake was aware of his partner’s intense thought processes, wondering to himself, Has the union and syndicate excited more than a wasp’s nest with Deputy Kelsey? Monroe knew there was no end to Abron’s abilities to guard and protect Isabel.

Chapter 32

Tristen and Peggy

1972

The weather was cold and cloudy that day in Missoula, Montana. Many Californians call the Missoula area the banana belt of the state before they spend a winter. Some say it was given that moniker because of the inversion that seems to plague the area in the winter, trapping many elements produced by wood fires, processing machinery, autos, heavy equipment, and big rigs. Missoula from the air during these conditions appears to be fogged in. The winter temperature can reach minus Fahrenheit, settling in for days during these episodes. Tristen and Peggy were enjoying their breakfast at a little mom-and-pop café within a block of the hotel they were staying in. The ladies were being watched at all times when outside. Allowed to travel together, two could venture out once a month. Never able to relax, they couldn’t talk to strangers other than while eating or shopping as they explored their new surroundings. Tristen and Peggy both had witnessed firsthand the brutality of their owners. They heard the stories of girls gone missing from the whorehouses of Wallace and Nevada. Under threat of their loved ones back home being harmed or even prostituted, like themselves, only one small hope lingered. The handlers let them know money was being put aside for them. Four years of work meant a lifetime of not having to struggle financially and a return ticket home. All the girls wanted to believe it was true. Halfway through the meal, Tristen left for the ladies’ room. She and Peggy knew the eyes on them were not inside the restaurant. Nile was standing in front of the men’s room, trying to appear like he was waiting his turn. Tristen hugged him and handed him a note.

Visit me room this night after ten o’clock. Use back door, here’s spare key. I count windows from left when Nile look up from big parking lot. No knock be easy.

She kissed him and went back to the table.

Chapter 33

Break-In at the Elks

The guys knew the layout. Noise and a camera focused on the supply entrance leading down to the basement were their only concerns getting into the Wallace Elks club. Once inside their problems would explode tenfold. Clearing the entrance to the bolted door, freezer sizes not available, could lead to bulk and weight. Transporting thirty or forty feet to the back exit could be clumsy and cumbersome, as would be the loading. George Cassidy had taken it upon himself to hire a couple of strong teenagers he had befriended in the apartment complex he lived in. Both were willing to do about anything for a two-hundred-dollar payday. “Two hundred dollars for each of us? Only six hours of work?” They were available anytime George needed them Paul Luna was more cautious. He said, “We don’t know what we’ll find inside those freezers. The boys will be witnesses.” The absence of weight and space measurements won out. Paul and George reasoned that breaking in once would be safer than possibly having to do it a second time. The two helpers were expendable if need be. A simple cut wire on the exposed camera and a bolt cutter would put them inside the basement. Two days earlier during his walk-through, Paul could not find an alarm system anywhere in the Elks building. The crew was on for Tuesday night, three nights out. The temperature in Wallace during the late-night early morning raid was cold enough to cause shivering and teeth chatter. Two vehicles came in from different

directions. Paul and his teenage partner arrived first, parking down the street, surveilling the target area. Wind was active enough to dampen the noise. With exception of an old warehouse across the street behind the elks, there were no other windows facing them. When the engines came to rest for both vehicles, Mother Nature’s sounds were dominant in the night. The four robbers would wait and watch for the next twenty minutes.

Chapter 34

Lieutenant Gwen

Two years of interviewing friends, family, neighbors, and coworkers of both Phyllis and David hadn’t developed any promising avenues for investigators. At 7:00 p.m. on a Wednesday night, the phone rang. FBI Agent Jake Monroe answered his cell. “Jake?” The voice on the other end was familiar. “Lieutenant Gwen from the San Bernardino sheriff’s department.” “Mike, good to hear your voice.” Gwen jumped in, “I’m sending you a package. I wanted you to view the contents first, then share with Abron if you decide it will help your McCoy case. Sorry to be quick about it on the phone, but I’m late for an emergency meeting. You’ll probably be involved with this emergency as well, if real. Something about a viral pandemic that possibly started in China. Got to run. Don’t mention the call until you go over the info pack.” Mike Gwen hung up before Jake could say another word. Stunned from the call, Agent Monroe thought, I hope he overnighted the package. Then he thought, A pandemic? Agent Monroe was increasingly concerned for his family due to the nature of his work. The intel being fed to him by the agency would be noticed. Leaks were usually dealt with in a bloody fashion within the mob. Now pandemic news was starting to overshadow other major events taking place around the globe. The state of Washington began to show signs of an outbreak of this new virus. Leaving his wife and kids for days at a time became unacceptable. Jake began making plans to bring his family to Spokane. He and

his wife both liked the area in Otis Orchards where Ron and Vale now resided. The move from Walla Walla would be immediate.

Chapter 35

Freezers Opened

Before George Cassidy backed down the ramp into the loading dock, Paul had disabled the camera and used bolt cutters on the outside lock. When Paul’s cell vibrated, he whispered into it, “We’re on, nobody around.” Luna had also put out two small lights in the area. All was dark when the truck pulled in. The four started moving furniture and boxes away from the large steel door that contained the freezers. A heavy metal bar had been locked in place on both sides of the reinforced door—not a problem with the large bolt cutter they carried. The door lock would have been trouble if Paul had not scouted it. Tools came out, and the door was opened. Working with small flashlights, George sent the boys back to the truck, lights out, to keep watch. The fourteen-feet-by-fourteen-feet room was empty except for the chest-type freezers and a pile of rubble in one corner. “I wonder how long they’ve been here,” quipped George. “Can you believe they’re still plugged in and working?” “Had to be here twenty years or more. Look at the mildew and dust everywhere,” replied Paul. The locks were removed from both freezers. Paul opened the first. “George, David didn’t say anything about bodies.” It was hard to see through the ice and frost, but the footwear and clothing couldn’t be missed. “That looks like a head,” said George.

They opened the second freezer to find the same content. Paul whispered, “Looks like at least two, maybe three bodies in each container. There is no way we can move this much bulk and weight into the truck.” “Piece by piece is a lot of work, but it can be done,” answered George. “Get rid of the boys. They can’t be privy to this, or it’s their death sentence.” “I’ll make them sit in the cab till it’s over. All of us will depart the Elks at the same time. Much safer that way,” responded Paul. Luna had brought a nine-pound hammer and an ax. Both tools earned their keep. It took over an hour to free the parts from the freezers. Each body part was wrapped in a plastic trash bag and loaded in the back of the windowless cargo bin. Both freezers were cleaned inside and out to remove all human traces. The floor was swabbed after they locked down the freezers. Driving back to Kalispell, little was said. The teens knew better than to ask. Paul and George had both schooled them before starting the job. “We may need your help again. Would you guys be willing?” Cash in hand, the boys were smiling and nodding when their employers drove off.

Chapter 36

Nile Crosses the Line

1972

Nile found the room, unlocked the door, and slipped inside with less than a heartbeat of noise. The room was like twilight, just enough to see and make out shapes, not enough to show faces. “I am here,” whispered Tristen. “Peggy and me alone.” Her English was broken but understandable. For the next two hours, Nile was entranced, horrified by a story so brutal, so evil, so inhuman it left him mentally bruised and battered. Both of the young ladies in the room had actually come from Romania via Kiev, with the promise of an education and a job in America. Tristen and Peggy had been beaten many times, drugged whenever transported, forced to prostitute. They were made to watch two other women beheaded in front of their eyes. The dead girls had tried to run in a strange land with no friends. Nile was in his early twenties. Growing up in the USA, the story he was hearing sounded more like a horror movie. Talking softly through most of the night, his questions were mostly answered. The three in the room formulated a plan of communication that would not bring suspicion from the girl’s traffickers. The sex Nile was looking forward to did not happen. When he slipped out the door at four in the morning, sex was the last thing on his mind. Getting into his car for the trip back to Wallace, his mind was racing. Fastening his seat belt, Nile thought he heard a click that came from the back seat. His heart skipped a beat. Slowly turning his head, the back seat was empty.

Will I ever feel safe again? he thought.

Chapter 37

Izzie’s Birthday

Present day

Isabel was celebrating her birthday with husband, Abron; her mom and dad; the Rowes, Hollanders; Sal and Tammy; and several other close friends and work associates, including the boss, Captain Shawn Saunders, and his wife. Try as Abron would, he could not dissuade her choice of eateries. “This was where we had our first date, and I’m still living in that moment every time we dine here,” she announced to everyone in the room. Abron had booked a back room with seating for thirty, which they needed. The midsized café was warm and comfortable. Presenting a rough and tumble facade, Abron Kelsey was a pussycat when it came to Izzy. Toasts were made, conversations were had, laughter was the noisemaker of the evening. From the main, room Ron Rowe and his wife, Vale, stepped slowly into the party with a candle-lit cake. The oohs and aahs were mainly from the Bunco ladies that knew about Vale’s baking abilities. Making a wish and blowing out the candles, Abron asked his wife about her wish. Isabel turned, and looking up into his eyes, she pressed closer and wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. Now gently grinding her sexuality into his, she uttered for all to hear, “I want that moment again.” Abron folded her over and kissed her erotically. Very little cake was eaten at the diner. Couples in the room became anxious, wanting to take their piece home, along with a cut of the birthday cake.

Chapter 38

Capture

The call went straight to Kelsey. Jim O’Neal was on the line with excitement in his voice. “The perp with the boot brace has been located. I’m sure it’s the right person, the one that dynamited Tammy’s parents’ place. Robert and I have him in our sights.” “Where are you?” Asked Abron. “That’s close. I can be there in less than twenty minutes.” Working solo, Deputy Kelsey didn’t have time to waste, quickly turning the car around and giving it the gas. Keeping Jim on the line, Abron asked, “Why not headquarters for backup?” “Robert and I want to avoid compromising our informer. He was drinking with Boot Brace and a couple of others when we picked him up at the tavern. I don’t think they made us. Robert went in. They met at the other end of the bar ordering drinks. Our CI waited and drank one more with them before he came out. Fortyfive minutes later, the boot left. He had two hard-looking buddies with him. The type that might not want to be arrested. Our team knows we need all the information we can find on the McCoy murders and the explosion, so we called you to make sure we don’t end up in a shootout and lose a possible witness. Park around the corner. We’re positioned on the north and south sides of the house they entered. Robert and I won’t lose them, but we need a plan.” Abron responded, “Five minutes and closing. Terry, you or Ron close to North Park road, and Trent?” Terry answered, “I’m not, but Ron was having lunch with Vale somewhere near

there. What’s up?” “I’ll call you within the next hour. Abron out.” Kelsey was slowing to the curb when Ron called. “Need your help if you can get here in eight minutes or less.” Kelsey gave Ron the address. “Be there in four. Sirens?” asked Ron. “Run silent. We have the house surrounded. I don’t think they’re moving. Call backup to come quietly. You and I, O’Neal and Brady will do until they arrive. Front and back of house runs, north and south.” Minutes later, Kelsey was communicating with all four deputies and a dozen others blocking all exits via the streets. Abron was giving the orders. “It’s Jim and Robert’s collar. Their informer told us two of the three that went inside the home are recent parolees. Earlier in the bar, Deputy Brady saw what looked to be a gun in one of the guy’s waistband. Could be any number of people in that house. Everybody, stay put. If they run, it will be in a new white Chevy Monte Carlo or an older blue Ford Bronco.” Abron and O’Neal converged on the west side of the house from north and south. The windows had closed slats blocking the view in and out. Ron and Brady easily gained a position by the attached garage on the east side. Knowing SWAT would be there in seconds, Kelsey moved from his position and walked over to the Monte Carlo parked in the street sliding across the hood, landing on the side of the car away from the front door of the house. The noise was deafening. Whoever does Chevrolet’s warning system got it right, Kelsey thought to himself. A woman came out of the house, holding a remote key, turning the racket off. As Abron stood and appeared from the driver’s side-door area, Detective O’Neal, standing next to the corner of the house, stepped halfway out from behind the wall and said plainly with enough volume that the woman could hear every word, “Spokane Sheriff. Have everyone in the house come out the front door, showing their hands. No exceptions.”

A SWAT team was just now taking positions inside the blocked-off streets, backing Deputy Kelsey’s move with a show of force. As two minors and another adult woman were exiting the house, a raised four-door F-150 with huge oversized tires crashed through the closed garage door, sounding like a Sherman tank with a cannon exploding. Tinted windows up on both sides made it almost impossible to count the number of people inside. No shots were to be fired unless it meant life or death. That order was given moments earlier by Abron. The sheriff’s department needed Boot Brace alive. The F-150 banged into the mailbox, taking a hard left into the street. The armored SWAT truck, at the ready, was way ahead of the would-be escapees, broadsiding the raised ford pickup with a force that tipped it on the driver’s side doors at the first intersection. Seconds later, guns were going off behind the house. Deputy O’Neal ran to the back on the east side of the house just in time to see Rowe falling. Brady fired his weapon as Boot Brace headed over a four-foot chain-link fence lined with bushes blocking the view on both sides. Kelsey was a step ahead of Brady on the opposite side of the house, hurtling his body headfirst over the fence and through the bushes that were masking the height of the chain link. O’Neal yelled to Brady, “Call in officer down. Stay with Ron.” SWAT was closing in on the disabled pickup. Two team were ordered to head for the shots-fired area. Surrounding deputies assigned to block street escape routes had to hold their positions. As Abron came to his feet, a small, overgrown apple orchard presented itself. Without hesitation he charged into the weeds slouched over, presenting a smaller target. Just as guns started to blaze, he fell into a small channel with mud and weeds at the bottom. Down he went. Weapon at the ready, Kelsey slogged toward the gunmen. The perps were running right toward him. Abron nor the shooters could see more than a few feet in front of them due to the thickness of the overgrowth and half-dead trees in the orchard. When the perps were almost beside him, from a crouching position, Abron threw a cross-body block into the nearest shooter that slammed all three to the ground. Within a second Kelsey had disarmed the most shaken with a kick, then body-slammed the second, instantly knocking the breath out of him. O’Neal appeared, gun drawn. The chase was over. Breathing heavily, both

deputies smiled when they saw the boot brace.

Chapter 39

Beatty

1972

Beatty, Nevada, is a small town east of central Death Valley. Located along Highway 95 between Las Vegas to the south and Tonopah and Goldfield to the north on the way to Reno or Winnemucca. Two young national parks rangers assigned to Scotty’s Castle had been drinking in Beatty one night when they were told of a brothel just northeast of town. Both being single, they paid the house a visit. After the ladies shook them loose of some money, the rangers were conversing back at the bar downtown. “She could hardly speak a word of English.” “Ditto for my brunette,” answered the other. “Did you get the feeling they were in some kind of trouble?” Both agreed. Informing their immediate supervisor the following day, the supervisor and another ranger went back to investigate. Later that same night, all four met and agreed that some form of unlawful vice was also in play at the brothel. Johnny Dawson was airborne just after sundown. His first stop was only twentyfive minutes away at Beatty. With all the controlled air space around him on the way north, he kept the Cessna a thousand feet above the ground with no running lights. Touching down in Beatty, there was no sign of trouble, so he killed the engine and waited.

After ten minutes, he and the enforcer were beginning to wonder where the SUV was with the package. In a burst of light, at least a dozen spotlights came on from every direction, illuminating the 210. Johnny and his enger had no choice but to surrender to the authorities.

Chapter 40

Ron’s Surgery

Present day

Out of surgery and recuperating in ICU, the doctor and nurses in charge would not allow visitors—family, friends, and the sheriff included. The head surgeon in charge of saving deputy Rowe’s life spoke in the waiting room to the family, Captain Saunders, the Kelseys, and the Hollanders. “Lieutenant Rowe is in an induced coma. Our team had to remove both his kidney and spleen to give him a chance at life. The bullet exploded on impact. Soft copper pieces ripped through intestines, muscle, and veins, which were thankfully all repairable. His right-side kidney was beyond saving, and his spleen had uncontrollable bleeding. As I said, both organs were removed.” Vale broke down and fell to the ground which ignited her two children. A nurse and Isabel comforted all three, huddling around them and shielding all three from the doctor’s voice. Shawn Saunders asked the question that was always the toughest, “Will he make it?” The surgeon answered, “Mr. Rowe was in excellent health before the shooting. His other kidney is in A-1 condition. A nonsmoking lifestyle gave his heart, lungs, and circulatory system a leg up on his path to full recovery. Let’s give him forty-eight hours of sleep time to help his body mend. Waking him up any sooner attached to these machines won’t help him.” Taking charge, Saunders ended the conversation with the surgeon, saying, “I’ll speak to his wife and kids.”

Chapter 41

Death Penalty

Captain Saunders, Deputies Kelsey, Domenico, O’Neal, and Bradley, along with district attorney Donny Webb, were conferencing down the hall from the two perps. They all knew the death penalty could not be used. In 2014 the governor issued a capital punishment moratorium. All cases with the death penalty would be staid through his office. Not a get-out-jail-card but the ending of a powerful weapon against major crimes. Webb spoke first, “The person or persons who paid for the bombing downtown could very well be the same people that murdered my assistant DA two years ago. How are you going to attack this, Shawn?” Saunders was ready. “First round of interrogation will shock them, pitting one against the other. The second round will, and I can’t put this lightly, Donny, threaten both of their entire families, past and present. If we see any signs of dissent, Bryce McCallen’s name will enter the conversation. They both will be given the idea that McCallen has turned on them. That’s for starters. Can we count on your help?” Donny would come up with some kind of a plea bargain for each perp. DA Webb, satisfied with the path his sheriff was taking, departed. “You didn’t tell him about Abron’s idea, Captain,” spoke Domenico. “I couldn’t. It’s illegal.”

Chapter 42

Croop and Saunders

Captain Croop was on the phone immediately with Captain Saunders after she received a call from her deputies in Harrison on Lake Couer d’Alene. “Parts of a third female body were just reported at Harrison.” A pause on the phone before Shawn took a deep breath, exhaled loudly, and said, “We now have our own third body on the way to the morgue from Liberty Lake. A female also.” “Shawn, what the hell is going on?” “Believe it or not, I think we’re closing in on an answer. That’s what Agent Monroe and Deputy Kelsey are telling me. I’m sorry I can’t give you more at this time. Jake and Abron are on to something big that includes the year 1972. I’ve given them forty-eight hours of my silence before we move forward. I promise you, June, that nothing will happen on our end until you have the full picture of this investigation.” June hesitated then asked, “Anything we can do?” showing Saunders a sign of . She almost choked when he said, “Yes,” and told her what he needed.

Chapter 43

Isabel Contributes

“It was Isabel and her college-days compulsion to research everything I tell her about that could remotely be associated to a case. I’ve learned the hard way over the last two years, never to make a bold statement that I can’t back up. It’s cost dinners, ski trips, clothes-shopping, hair and nail appointments. Izzy is a sleuth when she has a computer in hand, searching for answers.” Captain Saunders wanted to hear more from Abron. “Isabel corroborated the ident on the missing person out of Wallace back in 1972–73. His radio name was Nile Rivers, birth name Donny Cynkovich, born and raised in Auburn, California. Izzy found the names of the guys in a band he ed as a drummer. Two of them still live in Shoshone County. Captain, I think she established a link that brings the Chicago crime syndicate closer to the McCoys. Izzy found a federal case that began with the arrest of a pilot back in 1972 tied to Idaho, Montana, Utah, and Nevada. “The charges were for interstate human sex trafficking and drug trafficking. The sex-trafficking charges had to do with those infamous whorehouses in Wallace, back about the time Nile went missing. Jake Monroe is on it now with his buddies back at the bureau. Monroe said he would give us a more detailed report tomorrow when he flies in from Walla Walla. Monroe told me last night that the pilot, a Johnny Dawson, has been out of prison for ten years. Jake has his address.” “Isabel is the best unpaid resource this department has ever had in its service,” said Shawn. “I hope you don’t put your foot in your mouth too often around her.” “Captain, it would impress you if you knew the number of times outlandish real information on a bet has helped me gain certain favors. Two can play the game.”

Chapter 44

Area History

1972

Nile spent a couple of evenings a week in practice with the Elks drum and bugle corp. Knowing that nobody could be trusted when it came to his plan of saving Tristen and Peggy, he mentioned it to no one. Nile Rivers filled early evening hours with his insatiable appetite of all things historical in Shoshone County. In local bars, his attention was drawn to pictures of Teddy Roosevelt marching into Wallace to help quell a deadly mining riot. The Sunshine mine disaster was prevalent through glassed over newspaper articles. The bars loved their pugilists. It seemed to Nile that a picture of a boxer called Young Firpo or the Bull of Burke was displayed most often. Then there were the fighting Walker brothers and more. He found the real name of Young Firpo through Carrington at his local pub. “Guido Bardelli, a member of the boxing hall of fame, the best light heavyweight in the world in the 1930s. His son plays on our winter recreational basketball league,” finished Carrington. Rivers visited the Cataldo Mission west of town and found the historical marker that explained the reason for the naming of the Fourth of July . Talking to the evening disc jockey while imbibing at Carrington’s pub, he noted that “some historical publications claim that a couple of the Earp’s and Doc Holiday spent several summers in the gold mine towns of Eagle and Murray.” Nile also took the time to take underground tours of several of the silver mines in the district. Nile Rivers’s other insatiable appetite always led back to Wallace and Tristen.

The bold escape-and-rescue plan was causing time to accelerate. It could end up life-threatening. Nile was looking for any way the escape could fail. The deadline for Tristen and Peggy to still be in Wallace for the escape was approaching.

Chapter 45

Escape

1973

After four weeks of research and double-checks ed since Nile rendezvoused with Tristen and Peggy, Rivers felt his plan was close to foolproof. The working girls were given a couple of hours a day to shop within the township of Wallace. The Bordello managers with their hired heavies were on alert every time two of their indentured ladies were allowed outside in the open, always in pairs and always with two trained eyes on each worker. The four houses were bringing in tens of thousands of dollars monthly to an Illinois-based syndicate. No mistakes could be made that would endanger the organization. Armed guards and managers were always on watch, at the ready to dole out capital punishment if necessary. Persons responsible for the girls knew their heads were on the chopping block if one mistake occurred that would sound an alarm to law enforcement outside Shoshone County. Tristen and Peggy had recruited three more Russian-speaking women they had befriended in the short time working together. Three of the ladies worked at one brothel while the other two were half a block away at another. Tristen had remarked to Nile that each gal only worked a house for two weeks. The glitch in the system allowed the ladies to move to another house within the city, giving each eight weeks before they were transferred to Nevada. Friendships out of fear were given time to incubate. Nile had decided that it wasn’t just sex that had moved him to help the women. The two he met, Tristen and Peggy, were afraid for their own lives, trapped in a

confused world of never-ending johns, brutality, and STDs. Having been warned of local law enforcement corruption through firsthand s from Tristen, Rivers committed to silence until he could deliver them to a safe haven. Nile had devised an escape route that would take the ladies into Washington, where he could hand them over to Spokane authorities. Rivers knew that he, like the ladies, would also have to disappear via witness protection. A change of vocation and location would cost him his first love—radio broadcasting. Entrusting Tristen would be dangerous. When he learned that Peggy had recruited three more Soviet Bloc women, Nile wanted to run and never look back. Each time that sickening thought occurred, it became stronger. Real danger was close. Visiting Tristen every couple of days erotically put a pause on his compulsion to run and leave her behind. Tristen sensed the fear and used her sexual skills to convince him to save the ladies of the night. As the escape time grew nearer, Tristen had Peggy slip into the room where she and Nile were naked and touching. Rivers discovered a euphoric meltdown when he felt Peggy’s warm body pressing against his back. Parking his 1966 Pontiac Bonneville behind the local furniture store two blocks from the brothels, Nile stepped away from the car, into the loading dock area, to watch and wait. Within the minute Tristen and another young lady came around the corner, entering the alley and moving to the Pontiac. Seconds later Peggy threw open the furniture store back door leading to the loading area, adrenaline pumping. The two women just missed slamming into a hidden Nile. With the engine idling, all five were in the car, inching forward, slowly making their escape. “Where’s Dasha?” Tristen asked. Rivers was starting to feel like the whole world was closing in on him. “We can’t wait, it’s too dangerous,” he cried out. Dasha appeared from a door on the other side of the alley. She had a gun pointed at her head. Nile froze for a second and looked in his rearview mirror. Two men were approaching quickly. The big Bonneville responded to his foot slamming

down on the accelerator. A 389-cubic-inch engine with a four-barrel carburetor and positraction rear end sent the car flying forward past the lady with the gun pointed at her head. The armed men knew they couldn’t shoot. The noise in the alley would be disastrous. Nile and the four women made it to Nine Mile , racing northward toward Thompson Falls, Montana. In the short time it took to reach the north fork of the Couer d’Alene river, all was quieting down inside the Pontiac. Rivers couldn’t understand anything they were saying; he did know the volume was abating. They entered a half-mile heavily forested area just before it opened onto the main road to Montana. Nile whispered, “If this doesn’t look like Sleepy Hollow.” Before he added more, an SUV pulled out of the woods, blocking his pathway. Bullets were pounding the Pontiac on the driver’s side, guns firing from the woods and through the windows of the intruding SUV. Within a breath’s time, Nile and both the ladies in the frontbench seat had taken hits. Rivers was to the head, causing the car to veer off the road and into a pine tree. The noise and horror of the moment lasted less than a minute. The road was seldom used during weekdays. A small number of loggers knew the route. There commute began in the early morning and late afternoon. The shooters moved all vehicles a half mile back toward Wallace. Flares were lit and planted in the middle of the paved road, a quarter of a mile in front and behind the bullet-ridden Pontiac. A tow truck was quickly approaching. Thirty minutes had ed. The disturbance disappeared.

Chapter 46

The Search

Present day

Asg several of her deputies to the task given her by Captain Saunders, Croop had begun the search for names and addresses, utilizing her two best inoffice researchers. Her team was turning over every rock for locals that would have been in their teens or male adults that might have used what the brothels had to offer back in the early seventies. After two days of searching, June was handed a preliminary list of over three hundred names and locations of males that came under her order. Each of her deputies was given a hundred possible johns to interview. Armed with time, place, and victim’s ages, the door-to-door began. Captain Croop gave her mostdogged detective the names and locations of thirty former bar and retail storeowners still living in Wallace and Silverton. June’s department had lost a trusted lieutenant and a female deputy through homicide two years earlier. Croop’s department was now half the size of Saunders’s. Time was of the essence. All four deputies were in constant communication with one of her in-house researchers. Descriptions of the ladies that worked the brothels in 1972 and ’73 were hitting the CDA sheriff’s office from day one. Approximate height, weight, hair color, hair length, country of origin information compiled to fall within the seventies time frame. Fortunately for the CDA deputies, the world’s fair in Spokane triggered time to memory for most of the confirmed johns.

Chapter 47

Deputy Rowe

Detective Rowe was coming home. Tammy and her mom brought food. Isabel and Greta brought flowers and more finger foods. Captain Saunders’s wife brightened the house with several more bouquets in vases. Rowe’s ambulance had a law enforcement escort, front and rear, with lights flashing. Doctors wanted to observe him for a couple more days. Vale and Ron both felt he would recover faster at home. The doctor gave in to Vale’s pleading after the news of a fast-spreading killer virus was being reported in Seattle and New York. A skeleton crew was running the department for a few hours while most of Deputy Rowe’s friends and his FBI buddy, Jake Monroe, welcomed him home. Abron and Jake were able to spend a few minutes of alone time with the wounded deputy. Ron wanted to know as much information from the pair as he could pull out of them. “The McCoys? The explosion?” Rowe asked. Monroe and Kelsey fed him as much information as they could while trying not to speed up his heart rate. They could sense his angst from the wounds tethering him to the bed, away from the investigations. “Ron, Abron, and I will keep you in it. Just answer your phone.” Deputy Ron Rowe began to smile just as Vale came in and laid down the law. Both Jake and Abron kept their heads down and quickly departed.

Chapter 48

Turning Up the Heat

The meeting took place at the Davenport while Izzy was bartending. Mrs. Kelsey had asked the regular Thursday-night bartender if she could trade shifts. Abron had wanted her to be at the bar while Captain Saunders gathered his force of deputies that were in the middle of the McCoy murders and the bombing of the downtown restaurant. Both Shawn and Abron knew that Isabel would catch any sign of someone eavesdropping on their meeting. Captain Saunders began, “This next week Abron and Jake will again be shaking a hornet’s nest when they interview McCallen, Robinson, Boot Brace, and a recently discovered former pilot that was found guilty of sex trafficking back in 1973 between Nevada, Montana, and Idaho. Our guys will intimidate, confuse, and instigate fear in all four present and past jailbirds. “From the moment Monroe and Kelsey leave the prison, heading home to our station, anything can and will happen. Several of our scenarios point to danger for our force and our loved ones. I have coordinated with the Spokane police to help us with surveillance of our own homes. If any of you can secret away your family to other locations, we have seven days before the trouble might begin. “Captain Croop from CDA has given us a preliminary report on possible missing persons from 1972 and ’73. Thanks to the FBI, DNA testing is going on overseas as we speak. If our suspicions hold true, the three bodies pulled from Liberty Lake and the three found in Lake Couer d’Alene all originated from a single deadly situation in the seventies. Our ‘double triple’ appears to be cracking open and extending its reach into the McCoy household. “Domenico and O’Neal, I need you to visit the sheriff over in Wallace. They called early this morning and left a strange message about a break-in at the Elks club and bad odors, whatever that means. Get back to me ASAP if it could be related to our cases. It may be nothing. However, their new captain was adamant

that we take a look.” Saunders ended the meeting with “Take care of your families and watch your backs. Trouble is brewing, and we’re turning up the heat.”

Chapter 49

Captain Drager

When Deputies Domenico and O’Neal arrived at the Wallace sheriff’s department, they were greeted at their car by the new sheriff of the county. Captain Drager shook hands with them, saying, “Let’s take a walk. The Elks is only a block away, and I can use the time to fill you in.” Drager took the long way to the Elks lodge, ing by and pointing out the four empty brothels in his jurisdiction. “Our city and county sex crimes were among the lowest two percent in the United States for all cities. Rapes and Pedophilia were almost non-existent in Shoshone County since the four opened seventy-plus years ago.” The Spokane deputies were starting to push Captain Drager as to why they were there. “Indulge me for a few more minutes,” he said as he pointed at the lodge across the street. Walking up the front steps, he said, “What you need to experience is in the basement.” O’Neal quickly questioned, “Experience?” Drager nodded and said, “That’s the word.” Walking down the stairs and entering the basement floor, Sal and Jim were both hit hard by an unfamiliar odor. “Cleaning solvents,” said the captain. Moving toward a sealed darkened door with outside steel bar and locks, Drager pointed out the unusual dust mop patterns on the floor and quick wipe-down marks on top of the many sundry items blocking the path. The lighting was bright when it was switched on for the detectives. Earlier Captain Drager had extra lighting brought in, surrounding the door and basement exit, leading to the loading ramp.

The chemical smell was becoming overwhelming when Domenico asked, “Is there something else besides chemicals that I’m smelling?” “In there,” the captain pointed. The locks on the crossbar were already cut and hanging. “You’ll need these,” he added as he handed them each a mouth/nose gas mask. Inside the small room were two chest freezers; both looked like the outsides had recently been meticulously cleaned. The floor seemed recently swabbed. They opened the freezers. “They look like they’re right off the showroom floor, but at least thirty or forty years old. How long have they been here?” questioned Domenico. “By all s of the Elks management, cleaning staff, and maintenance workers, this room hasn’t been opened at any time within the current Elks memories. They estimate the room has been locked since the late sixties or early seventies. Take off your gas masks for a second while we’re exiting the room.” O’Neal said it first, “Something died in here.” Walking toward the well-lit loading area, the captain spoke again, “The daytime maintenance guy said he gave a tour of the place, including the basement, about two months ago. The visitor was from out of town and asked specifically to see the basement while the janitor was walking him through the building. Our Elks lodge maintenance man has a drinking problem. Keeps his rum stashed down here. Two weeks ago, he called me, reporting strange activity at the Elks.” Deputies Domenico and O’Neal asked few questions to this point. They realized the captain’s show was just getting started. Opening the sliding door to the outside, the guys noted an inclined ramp leading to where they were standing. “They backed down the ramp and loaded something into the back of their small truck. I think it was the contents of the freezers.” The detectives were instinctively looking for cameras on the building while Drager continued briefing them. “It was clipped,” he said when O’Neal pointed at the camera above the loading dock. “How do you know it was a small truck?” asked Sal.

“We caught a break,” said Drager. “Six years ago, some high school kids broke in through here and stole alcohol for their graduation parties. The former sheriff had a camera installed across the street in the only window pointing this way.” Drager pointed toward the old warehouse with a small second-story window almost hidden by trees. “You’ll enjoy this disc,” he said as he handed it to them. “I would like to be kept in the loop. Our investigation warrants it. There is a clear picture of all four robbers with masks. The driver takes his off as do both teens, working with them while they climbed back into the truck.” Departing Wallace, Sal asked, “Bodies?” It would take them over an hour to get back to the station, a lot of time to think about what they had. Captain Drager had given them permission to send the Spokane CSI unit.

Chapter 50

Pahrump

Johnny Dawson had located to Pahrump, Nevada. Abron and Jake took a commercial flight into Las Vegas. The drive to Pahrump took a little over an hour. The lawmen were overdressed and unprepared for the daytime heat. It was early spring, and the temperatures were already in the low nineties. Stopping at a Walmart, they found some baggy but lightweight cotton shirts. Dawson’s parole officer had cleared him of being a flight risk. “Johnny did his time went back to school for a new vocation. The FAA pulled his license. He knew flying would no longer be a part of his life. The last time I checked on him was over eight years ago, before I retired. Johnny Dawson is now married with three kids and working for Nye County.” Kelsey knocked. A pleasant-looking lady in her sixties opened the door. “Johnny Dawson’s home?” asked Jake. The woman answered in a sharp tone, “Don’t you guys ever give up? My husband has done everything right since he got out of prison. Does a retiree need this kind of hassle?” Johnny stepped in front of his wife, between her and the lawmen. Jake and Abron were momentarily confused. Looking at his case file pictures and seeing him forty-five years later made them hesitate. “I know, I look older than you thought.” Abron asked, with new respect for the former con, “May we have a few moments of your time to ask a few questions related to Wallace, Idaho, and Beatty, Nevada, back in the 1970s?”

Noticing the change to a soft demeanor by Jake and Abron, Dawson invited them in. The house was cool and comfortable. “That was a long time ago, back in my flying days.” Johnny’s wife, Delores, offered them some iced tea. “I always knew there could be more repercussions finding their way back to me, but I haven’t been ed since retirement.” Jake started, “We aren’t here to give you any sort of problems with your life. Abron and I are here for your help.” Both Delores and Johnny focused deeply on their guests. “Johnny, we have five young ladies’ bodies in our morgue and one male alongside them.” A stunned Dawson was dumbfounded. Ahead of Johnny’s thought process, Jake began, “The bodies have been frozen in time from 1972 and1973, as in freezer frozen. Their body parts were recently dumped into Liberty and Couer d’Alene lakes. We have positive ID on the male and DNA results that have identified three of the women.” “I’m guessing these are young ladies, and you’re thinking there is a chance I transported them back in the day?” offered Dawson. Abron produced several photos of each of the girls. “It’s a tough call, being so long ago. You know I wasn’t allowed to speak with any of them. During transport, a guard was present at all times.” “Please look closely, we really need your help,” said Deputy Kelsey. “Could any of these girls have been Russian?” Monroe’s and Kelsey’s spirits picked up. Besides identifying two of the three women, he gave the lawmen a surprise lead that could be an incredible turn of events in the investigation. “I ran into one of the ladies I transported back then while my wife and I were grocery shopping. She was unforgiving and intimidating. I apologized several times.” “She finally lowered her voice and cooled down,” said Delores. Johnny paused and looked at both Monroe and Kelsey.

“You cannot divulge to her where this information came from.” When Dawson got the nod, he said, “She is the madam at the chicken ranch, just up the road from us on the edge of Pahrump.” Back in the car, Jake said, “Wow, never saw that coming.” Pulling into a casino, they took an early dinner in the café. Abron spoke first after they ordered, “The madam will be afraid for her life, as Johnny was. I’d be surprised if she talks to us.” “One down, one to go. Let’s hope we get lucky again,” breathed Jake. “Witness protection possible?” asked Abron. “I’ll make the call,” said Jake as their baron of beef, mashed potato, and gravy dinners arrived. This would be a long night for the agent and the deputy. A room was booked back at a casino near the Las Vegas airport.

Chapter 51

Brothel

A line of questioning was rehearsed over dinner. Jake and Abron wanted to wait until after midnight, thinking the brothel would be quieting down. The two found the opposite; business was booming. Their spirits were again given a lift when they heard the madam speak with a slight Russian accent, showing her the pictures took her back in time to the worst part of her life. “Yes, I know all three girls,” she said. “They went missing while I was working up there. We didn’t ask out loud, but we all knew something bad had happened when they disappeared.” “All three from Wallace? Are you sure?” asked Monroe. She nodded assent. “My life may be in danger if I stay here after we’ve talked,” she responded. Abron questioned, “That was forty years ago. You’re still working for them. Why would your life be in danger?” “The owners have not changed. Some bosses died, but another took their place over the years. This place is wired, I have to leave now. No more talking.” The agent and the deputy were convinced. Jake made a phone call. “Is there anything you need in this building?” Then she surprised the interrogators by saying, “I have everything I need packed. I’ve waited over forty years for this day. I know who killed those girls. One was my sister.” Jake went out first, checking the lit parking lot for trouble. Not many cars. No

place to hide a shooter, he thought. Signaling to Abron to stay in until he looked over the car, Monroe walked the forty feet to the rental. The quietness of the desert was shattered. Two handguns rang out. Abron saw Jake go to the ground. It looked like a voluntary defense move, but he wasn’t certain if Jake had been wounded or not. “Can you hide until this is over?” he asked the madam. “Yes, I have a gun.” Abron dove out the door toward a car and tree that offered partial cover. A bullet slammed into the front fender, close to Kelsey. Hearing Jake return fire, Abron took his chances, quickly standing with gun pointed in the direction of a shooter. Before the man hiding behind another desert scrawny tree could react, he was hit by a .38 in the chest. Kelsey came around his cover. Jake had reloaded, moving toward the fallen man, firing whenever he saw movement. Abron was doing the same. They found two men down. The calm lasted only seconds when they heard four shots fired in succession from inside the brothel. Abron took command as he always did when there was trouble. “Make the call, check the bodies. I’ll be right back.” Charging through the front door and diving to the carpet, gun at the ready, he saw the madam standing over a body that was bleeding out on the same carpet in the entryway. The madam, named Daria, was very calm and spoke softly, “Do you believe me now?” Within seconds Monroe came through the front entrance. “Help is on the way,” Jake said. “Let’s leave now. We can make a flight scheduled in less than two hours. Pahrump deputies will be here any moment. They’re sending an escort to get us to the airport on time.”

Chapter 52

Elks Evidence

Captain Saunders was shaking his head as Monroe and Kelsey walked into his office. “One day one of you or both are going to end up in the morgue,” he fired off. “I’m glad you’re safe.” Saunders spent two hours going over the incident in Pahrump. “Kelsey, you were already on light duty until the Boot Brace incident was put to bed by internal affairs. We’ll talk on Monday early. Agent Monroe was released to fly home in his Camanche and begin moving his family to Otis Orchards. Deputy Kelsey had phoned Izzy several times over the past five hours while flying home on the airlines out of Las Vegas. He wanted her to know that he was in one piece. No wounds.” “We need some face-to-face time to catch up with the past forty-eight hours. I’ll be home in an hour. We just landed.” Before Abron and Jake left the building, Domenico and O’Neal fed their partners the Wallace freezer information. “Bradley and her team are already there,” said Shawn. “They have found minute pieces of bone, flesh, and blood on the floor surfaces surrounding the freezers.” O’Neal handed him the flash drive of the video captured from across the street of the Elks lodge. After his second debriefing of the day, Shawn told Domenico and O’Neal, “Be on time for the seven a.m. meeting. If Rainer and Hood both blew at the same time, the explosion wouldn’t hold a candle to the combined efforts put into your report and what was found by Kelsey and Monroe in Pahrump, Nevada. See you

tomorrow morn.”

Chapter 53

Interrogation

The perps in the Agostino restaurant bombings were easily turned by Kelsey and Monroe. Life in a federal prison was plenty of incentive to take a plea bargain that offered a twenty-year sentence, the first five to be served in a federal prison mandatory, with the main bait being a chance to be on the outside again. Armed with testimony, signed by the getaway driver that implicated Diesel Hart and Mason Lee in the murder of the bartender, along with a dozen other heinous crimes caused by the bombing, Boot Brace and Mason were reaching for anything that would help their individual causes. Jake Monroe would offer Hart a job on the inside to earn money for his estranged wife and kids, if he signed the agreement. Diesel Hart, known to the deputies as Boot Brace, was given the opportunity first. He jumped on it. Diesel had already been given the evidence against him. The sheriff’s office knew he was the link to Rutherford at Flathead Lake. What Diesel didn’t know, his coconspirator was also given the same deal. Hart’s partner had already turned and given the interrogators the name of the person supplying money for the job. This information was only hearsay until they could get Diesel to corroborate the name. “You’re safe, you don’t have to do hard time the rest of your life. Just give us the name of the person that gave you the orders for the bombing,” asked Jake. “That and more if you can guarantee me a decent wage and job while in minimum. Maybe it’s the one good thing I can do for my wife and kids.” “That depends on the name and the other information you’re holding,” said Abron.

Diesel stepped up, saying, “David Rutherford.” By now there wasn’t much that could surprise the two detectives. There was a long pause, with the silence being broken when Kelsey said, “And?” “Rutherford told me that he had contracted a pair of brothers to kill Bryce McCallen in his cell. David also mentioned a cache of dynamite that was available, if need be.”

Chapter 54

Otis Orchards

Moving day had arrived in Otis Orchards near the city limits on the eastern side of Spokane. The moving van arrived while a full-blown party of sheriff deputies, their wives, and their kids were noshing on an array of home-prepared goodies. An air bounce house was set up for the kids, along with the long-forgotten croquet set being introduced to a new generation. The bureau had paid for the move and the muscle. Wives were following Jake’s Elise from room to room. Elise was new to the inner circle of law enforcement wives. She had moved her family from New Hampshire to Florida to Walla Walla and now Otis Orchards. Elise won the ladies over the moment she smiled and greeted each one personally. Elise had thoroughly interrogated Jake to find something good to compliment them on. Then furthering the charm by enlisting the wives to help with the placement of furniture at the Monroe’s new abode. Jake located the house and property behind Ron and Vale Rowe’s house. Safety in numbers came into play. When the kitchen table and chairs were brought in, the ladies sat with coffee and Vales deliciously moist carrot cake. It was Isabel that stole the show for the first fifteen minutes as she painted a picture of close by historical sites. Vale added a story about how her grandfather used to play saxophone in a band at the state line between Washington and Idaho. Shawn Saunders interrupted with a “May I speak,” raising his hand. The ladies let him enter the kitchen-dining-room area. “Stateline was the happening place in the forties and fifties. Our former sheriff’s captain used to tell me stories of all the big-name bands that stopped there and entertained.” Vale jumped back into the conversation, “My grandfather was a union musician that many of the traveling bands hired to ‘add a little class,’ as Grandad used to say, to the show.”

Isabel spoke, “My mom and dad said they used to go to several places at the Stateline in the 1960s. They called it a village, I think, the Stateline Village. Dad said something about cold beer at The Rock, whatever that was.” Greta added, “I saw a sign that said auto racing at a local raceway nearby.” After the furniture was moved into place and the hired hands departed, everyone came inside to eat. The ladies did it up right for the Monroes. There would be leftovers for Jake’s family to enjoy for several days. As they were dining, Tammy told Elise and Marsha about their bunco group and the need for substitutes. Given the ground rules of the club, Marsha said, “I’ve never played bunco.” Elise nodded that she hadn’t either. Out came the bunco box from Ron and Vale’s house. Kelsey brought in a second ice chest filled with Old Blue, Heidelberg, and Rainer beer. For two hours loud laughter and people shouting “bunco” filtered through the neighborhood. By sundown, the Monroes were moved in with all the beds set up, including clean linen and pillowcases. As everyone was leaving for home, Isabel loudly called out Elise’s and Marsha’s names and said, “Will you do us the honor of ing our bunco group as substitutes?” The husbands would only take a yes for an answer from the two ladies on the spot—a nice spot to be in. Detective Rowe was able to walk to the car and drive Vale around the corner to their house. The Rowes were now friends with a pair of physical therapists, Scott and Julie, the same rehab duo that had helped Isabel when she was a young competitive skier, then Abron when he was almost killed two years earlier. Ron was recuperating quickly.

Chapter 55

Orofino State Prison

This time around, Jake Monroe used his Piper Comanche to transport Deputy Kelsey and himself to the prison in Orofino, Idaho. With no head wind, the Comanche was cruising along at 160 knots. Monroe liked to fly at ten or eleven thousand feet above the terrain. Heading in an easterly direction, Jake climbed to 11,500 before leveling off. Skies were clear, no mountains or restricted areas to circumvent. The trip was short, taking about the same amount of time Monroe was used to flying to and from his former home in Walla Walla. On the trip down, it was decided to stick with the ideas the two had come up with over the past twenty-four hours. The agent and the deputy wanted to get into Bryce McCallen’s head before interrogating Dillon Robinson. The plan of attack was to unnerve Bryce by telling him about Diesel Hart’s capture and his sudden plea bargain that exposed McCallen’s old friend in union crime, David Rutherford. McCallen was only in for two or three years. Rutherford could tie him into the McCoy murders that would bring a lifetime in the state pen. Bryce had no doubts about his longevity on earth, if David let the FBI in on the person that ordered the killing of assistant DA, Phyllis McCoy, three years earlier. Bryce would be alone. The idea of being stabbed or beaten to death on orders from Chicago sparked a fear in him. Bryce McCallen knew too much. His bosses hopefully would silence Rutherford first before his own head reached the chopping block. Even then, Bryce was in a lonely situation that pointed headlong into a death scenario at best. Jake began the interrogation, explaining to Bryce the plight of David Rutherford and his two cronies, Paul Luna and George Cassidy. Bryce knew of the freezers’ contents. McCallen strived in his tenure as a union boss to stay as far away from the Wallace Elks as possible. His predecessor, apparently, wasn’t as lucky. McCallen’s thoughts began to stray beyond the room he was in with Kelsey and Monroe. Even if the mob was able to silence Rutherford and his crew, Bryce would be the only one that could tie Chicago to the McCoys. Kelsey noticed his

mental absence. Abron leaned over the table, coming within inches of Bryce’s face with his. “The organization behind your fears means nothing if Jake leaves this room.” McCallen’s thoughts quickly flashed the scarred face of Dillon Robinson. Bryce McCallen spoke quickly, “What I have to tell you can only be done in segregation, back in Spokane. From that point in time, I need assurances of my safety.” Jake left the room, and Bryce began to sweat. The scene inside the small, confined room with Deputy Kelsey and the prisoner was akin to watching a fawn in the eyes of a mountain lion just before the kill. Four minutes ed before the door opened, and Jake stepped back in. “You’re coming with us,” commanded Jake. Abron and Monroe agreed to forego Dillon Robinson to another day. Monroe was given clearance to transport the prisoner back to Spokane in his Piper Comanche. It would be tight inside the cockpit. Abron would sit alongside Bryce in the back seat. Fully shackled and a threatening presence on his shoulder, the trip would be fast and safe for all three. A quick pre-flight, and they lifted off. About forty-five seconds after wheels up, a small bright flash on the tip of the right wing rendered the Comanche uncontrollable, sending it downward back to earth. What goes through a pilot’s mind in that second or two after-danger strikes is hard to say. For Jake, it was the quick insight of dry, long-range fuel tanks on the tip of each wing. No explosion. A filled wing-tip tank would have caused the death of all three in the plane. Monroe had enough wing surface to control a skidding angle into the Clearwater River just to the east of Lewiston/Clarkston. Getting out of the plane was easy for Jake and Kelsey—Jake from the pilot’s seat and Kelsey nearest to the door in the back seat. It was Abron that leaned back in, as the plane was sinking, and yanked McCallen, from the coffin corner onto the wing. With the weight of the shackles and Bryce’s inability to use his arms, the agent and the deputy had to keep him afloat until nearby fisherman could pull them into their boat. During the trip back to shore, Abron realized the significance of Jake’s decision not to fill his long-range tanks. Agent Monroe had saved his engers’ lives from the

well-planned hit.

Chapter 56

Plea Bargain

“I should have used better judgment, tethering the Piper when we landed,” said Monroe. Cutting to the chase, Abron asked, “Who knew we were flying to Orofino today?” Both began mental lists of the deputies involved in the captain’s two meetings prior to takeoff. While waiting on shore for the prisoner transport back to Spokane, Abron and Monroe decided to split up: Monroe to Spokane with the transport and the wingtip explosion for Saunders to digest; Abron Kelsey back to Orofino to interrogate Dillon. Robinson’s cousins, Bob and Allen, were still on the loose, loaded with dynamite and money, armed with pictures sent by deputy Gwynn showing two rare twenty-dollar gold pieces recently sold on the Hong Kong exchange. Abron also had in his arsenal of intimidation threats of prosecuting Dillon’s sister and her husband for aiding and abetting during the capture of Robinson. The heaviest legal weapon included testimonies from Cynthia Berdot and Tony Bara that point the finger directly at Bob and Allen in the dynamiting of Isabel and Abron’s condo and the kidnapping of Tammy and Isabel two years earlier in Spokane. The warden at Orofino had ordered Dillon Robinson to an interrogation room forty-five minutes before Abron arrived on prison grounds. This was the first time the two had met since Abron had carved Robinson’s face and midsection with a knife. When the fight for his life began, Dillon knew he would win. Fifteen seconds into the hand-to-hand combat, Robinson knew he would lose. Dillon’s only choice after it started was to yield. He was a gamer, but in the end,

Dillon took too many deep slices to his body from the blade of Deputy Kelsey. When Abron entered the small room, Dillon’s arms and legs were shackled to the table and floor. Abron noticed several of the lacerations had not entirely healed. The knife gash to his eyebrow and cheek looked swollen and discolored. Abron was like a cobra staring into his prey’s eyes, his own eyes focused, nonblinking. Kelsey sat silently within three feet of Dillon for the first minute. “I liked your sister and her husband when I met them during your pretrial. I’m saddened by what has now become a burden for me.” Abron laid the arrest warrants on the table so Robinson could read them. “Our district attorney wants to prosecute them to the fullest.” Dillon’s eyes closed as he slowly moved his head side to side. When he opened them, Abron laid two more files in front of Dillon, signed testimonies accusing Robinson’s cousins, Bob and Allen, of kidnapping and the use of explosives that killed and maimed, innocent citizens. Robinson was silent. Finally, Abron showed the prisoner Detective Gwynn’s photos of the two gold coins that Dillon would recognize immediately. “The FBI found the sale less than two weeks ago. Apparently, whoever was selling them tried to move a dozen total. Could your cousins have found your stash?” Kelsey asked. The prisoner showed no facial expression. Kelsey noticed a carotid artery working overtime and moved in for the kill. “Dillon, you’re being tried here in Idaho for killing a deputy sheriff and wounding another with the same rifle found in your possession. Idaho has, and isters, the death penalty through lethal injection. You will never make it to the protection of Washington State, where your other attempted homicides took place. The only option you have is to give up your cousins. I spoke with the FBI and the district attorney where you’re to be judged. They have tentatively given me the right to take the lethal injection out of your equation through a plea bargain. When I leave this room, all bets are off.” Breathing was becoming harder for Dillon. Pride was the only thing holding Robinson back. Being in charge and always the hunter crippled his thinking for a couple of long minutes. The penetrating eyes of the man he had already lost to once were grilling him into another submission.

“I know where they are,” said Dillon. Words, so simple. It’s not going to be that easy for the lowlife that killed my friend and partner, Christian Caine, thought Abron Kelsey. “I’ll need the remainder of your wealth to take your sister and her family out of the equation. All of it! The FBI has given our office a hard count of what’s still out there. I hope for your sake that the counts are close. Real close.”

Chapter 57

Captain Mathias

“Link? Shawn Saunders.” “Son of a bitch. My annual call from you? I suppose you need me to rescue your department again.” Saunders’s small office lit up with laughter. “Damn it, Mathias I’ve got you on speakerphone in front of my detectives.” Captain Link Mathias began to howl out loud and said, “Wait just a minute, Captain Shawn. Let me round up a couple of my deputies to hear this.” Saunders replied, “I guess I’ll have to put you back in your place when we go head-to-head in your golf tournament this spring.” Then Link said, “I was thinking your team was too afraid to show up.” Saunders got down to business, saying, “We stepped on your toes a month ago by interviewing a union head over in Whitefish. I’m afraid round two with this guy could be trouble. His name is David Rutherford.” “I’ve heard of him through the FBI,” Link responded. “Satellite surveillance tells us he’s home, along with two other persons. If my guess is right, those two are his hired guns. All three will have felony warrants hanging over their heads by midnight tonight. My team would like to helicopter into the small fixed base runway on the south side of Whitefish. A SWAT team would sure give us some confidence.” Abruptly Captain Link Mathias said, “What time? We’ll be ready.”

The call ended a minute later. The cold Montana night hadn’t developed teeth. A thin cloud overcast was trapping the heat between ground and clouds. The night before temperatures were in the teens. This night the thermometer was pushing forty degrees. Both helicopters were on the tarmac. The ground assault force counted fourteen. Ten of them were Link’s SWAT team that flew in from Great Falls. Their Lenco BearCat armored car had arrived an hour earlier, now prepped and ready for action. Captain Mathias from Superior Montana had called in another favor from his sheriff’s department partners in Great Falls. They provided a smaller helicopter for air surveillance with spotlights. The target house had three levels. The entryway level to the front door was on the main road. An enormous back patio overlooked Flathead Lake, completing the first level of property. The back patio served as the roof for the second story built into the side of the hill. A small third story also butted up against the sloping hill, leading out onto another fenced patio. This area would be the main attack point. Not being part of the front door incursion, Deputy Kelsey and Agent Monroe gave SWAT their intel on the dogs, gates, cameras, and cross fencing once inside the main-level compound. Shawn Saunders’s deputies were set on all four sides of the property, watching for runners. The heavily armed and armored SWAT team was the leading edge of the attack. They would clear the house. The timing was perfect, beginning with the small observation helicopter coming over the ridge above the house, immediately lighting up the entire property. The copter’s loudspeaker boomed in the cold air, “In the house, you’re surrounded by SWAT. Come out with your hands up.” Flash and smoke canisters were fired into the front windows and onto the front porch when the call came to SWAT holding on the lower level. “We’ve breached the front door. Your turn to move.” The third-story team charged over the fence in a three-pronged attack. In the first thirty seconds, no shots were fired. The helicopter had moved in front of the sloping side of the house, lighting up all three stories. Two sliding glass doors were smashed as SWAT entered the lowest level.

“One perp down and dead, no shots fired,” came the call from the third level. Now inside, level one was quickly cleared of any threat. “Signs of a firefight on the road level, including blood but no bodies.” As they ventured down into the middle level, “Dead dogs on the stairway.” “Two more bodies found second level,” reported SWAT. Shawn, Jake, and Abron were listening to the radio reports when they got the allclear to enter the house. It was a battle zone. Saunders’s team knew no weapons were fired by their strike team during the raid. Shotgun blast marks everywhere, bullet holes in ceilings and walls, blood splatters on three levels. “Captain,” said a SWAT team member, “three bodies identified by your guys.” The news couldn’t be grimmer for Captain Saunders’s team. Jake spoke, “All three are our would-be informers.” Abron followed with, “David Rutherford, Paul Luna, and George Cassidy.” “Link, this is Jesse. We found blood spatters leading away from the side of the garage. Following said blood trail now.” Abron and Jake heard the call, turned, and sprinted to the northeast side of the house, giving chase after Link’s deputy, Jesse. A minute or two later, wrestling through underbrush and timber, Agent Monroe and Deputy Kelsey heard a shot fired and return fire less than fifty yards ahead of them down the slope. Jesse had taken a bullet to the lower thigh and was standing over the perp. “Is he alive?” shouted Abron. “I made sure. Shot his legs out from under him. He has a wound to his neck and right shoulder. If we can stop all the blood, he’ll be able to talk soon.” The agent and the deputy exhaled in relief, believing they had a person that could potentially help them expose the tie to Chicago. “Thank you, Jesse,” Link told his deputy. “You always come through. We need

to get you to the hospital and an earned vacation. You won’t enjoy the rehab, but you’ll love the time off with your family.”

Chapter 58

Back in Business

Grand opening day for the Agostino Restaurant. Family, friends, a special guest list of longtime customers. Four months had ed since the destruction of half the restaurant. The bombing had killed the bartender on duty that night. The grand opening had a secondary celebration planned, the first night back on the job of the barmaid working that fateful night. Skylar had spent twelve days in ICU after the blast. With a ive husband and children at home, recuperation time ed quickly. Trying to return to normal, she asked Shiela, the owner, if she could work the bar for the grand opening. Shiela and Theodore were ecstatic over the return of their favorite employee. Unknown to anyone but law enforcement inside the celebration, six deputies and six Spokane police officers were in two-person teams, strategically positioned outside to ensure the event went off without a hitch. Tammy’s parents put their finest entrées and hors d’oeuvres out for their guests to enjoy. Mayor Mason Lindley gave a speech of welcome. Spokane’s chief of police followed along with the fire department’s commander. Tammy Caine Domenico was the main host along with her uncle and aunt that owned the Spokane Airport version of the Italian family restaurants. The evening before the grand opening fell on a Friday. The posse met at their watering hole within the bar at the Davenport hotel. Abron, Ron, Terry, Sal, Robert, Jim, Kelly, Joi, and Agent Jake Monroe were present. Only Shawn, their captain, was not in attendance. Isabel was serving drinks at the bar and paying close attention to persons within earshot of the posse. The talk was of Boot Brace and his cohorts, David Rutherford and his heavies. Most importantly, everyone at the table needed more details of Abron’s interrogation of Dillon and the whereabouts of Robinson’s dangerous cousins known to be dynamiters. The posse was starting a mini celebration of the end to several of their worst investigations. Not quite there yet but closing fast, thought

Jake and Abron.

Chapter 59

Forensics

The final report from Kelly McCallum and the forensics lab in Spokane was detailed and thorough. Kelly and her team had started in on Sergeant Joi Bradley’s CSI samples from the Wallace Elks seven days earlier. Human-tissue samples matched three of the female bodies found in Lake Couer d’Alene and Liberty Lake. Hair samples discovered on the loading dock of the Elks matched those found inside the cab and storage area of the truck Paul and George drove in and out of the break-in. Agent Jake Monroe of the FBI was having a field day with all the information he was now in possession of. Vocalizing a quick summary of evidence that would go to his organization, he began: “Sex trafficking is going to make the headlines. Even though the crime was committed forty-plus years ago, catching the union bosses involved with the dumping of the bodies will be impossible for them to dodge. Heads will roll. Murder, kidnapping, interstate transfers of people, drugs, and toxic waste. None of these charges are erasable. Captain, you and your team have helped my agency put together a trial for the ages. The wiretaps are abuzz in Chicago with potential felons trying to cover their tracks. This case will set organized crime back at least thirty years. “Finding Johnny Dawson and Daria Zakharov was brilliant. Matching johns in Shoshone County forty years after the fact, with the faces of the missing women another stroke of genius.” Saunders interrupted, “June Croop and their team need some kudos.” Jake answered, “I have a meeting with her tomorrow morning.” “FYI, twelve brothels have been closed in Nevada, albeit temporarily, for their

connection with Chicago organized crime.” Jake’s closing statement, however, brought the entire Spokane sheriff’s department back to reality, “Still no definitive proof to help you solve the McCoy murders.”

Chapter 60

Fly Fishing

With Agent Jake Monroe being dominated by his report back to FBI headquarters concerning Chicago connections to Washington, Idaho, and Montana union labor, his off-hours were equally being used up with honey-dos, helping his wife and kids settle into their new home. So far, his family loved the area. Over the last ten years, a lease was the only thing he could give Elise, an unfortunate part of his job. Monroe knew his wife and children needed permanent roots before the kids grew too much older. Soon high school would be knocking for the Monroe children. Because of Monroe’s time out, Abron Kelsey was given the green light to follow leads given to him by Dillon Robinson. Deputy Kelsey knew he was on the right track concerning the McCoy homicide and Dillon’s cousins, Bob and Allen. Asking Isabel if she would like to take three days off to go fly fishing near St. Regis was akin to offering honey to a bear cub. “You already know the answer,” she said. “You have an ulterior motive besides my body, don’t you?” Abron couldn’t stop the oncoming smile. “Like a book! How do you do that?” he asked. “I know you know I’m open to your advances anytime day or night. The location helps but doesn’t make my sexual appetite for you any stronger or weaker. So what’s up, and how can I help?” “We have to give an outward appearance of a vacationing couple enamored with fly fishing. We’ll spend a lot of hours with our waders on and binoculars at the ready. You’ll also need to carry that .38 snub nose, concealed.” Izzy perked up. “Sounds exciting.” Abron quickly put out the fire by saying, “I will not put you in harm’s way. I

want you to carry as added insurance for your safety. Can you be ready in an hour or two?” Isabel was excited, thinking to herself, Finally, a vacation, even if it’s only three days. Abron had their Ford Explorer loaded within the hour. Making several phone calls while throwing her things together, Isabel Davis Kelsey was hot to trot. The trip was a pleasant one following Interstate 90 around Couer d’Alene lake over the Fourth of July . Thirty minutes later, they were coasting down the Montana side of Lookout . Just before Saltese, Izzy asked, “Have you stopped at the Silver Dollar bar?” “Does a chicken have lips?” Abron responded. Isabel punched him hard in the arm and said, “You know I don’t know what that means.” “Yes,” he answered. They took a break in Haugen at the bar and eatery, spending extra time taking in the history. Back on the road to St. Regis, it was nearing nightfall. Arrangements had been made, their room awaiting them. When settled in, Kelsey said to his wife, “Let’s get down to business. As you informed us, there is still a fortune in those twenty-dollar gold pieces you helped find last year, working with the professors.” “You and I are fortune hunters for a day?” she jumped in. Kelsey put on his serious face and said, “I have a strong hunch they are hidden here in St. Regis. Christian’s killer, Dillon Robinson, gave me an insight into the whereabouts of his cousins.” “The guys that dynamited our condo?” she asked. “The same,” answered Abron. “Dillon was paying his cousins to follow orders from his prison cell. They stopped all with Robinson when Agostino’s was lit up. Dillon swears they and he didn’t have anything to do with Agostino’s. He told me the truth in Orofino. We had captured the perps when Ron was shot, which you know about. Dillon intimated to me that he was afraid his sister, and

his niece and nephew wouldn’t see any of the cache. I promised to make it right by the sister if he would give up his cousins. Then he gave me his thoughts on their disappearance.” “Bob and Allen have mentioned several times, in bits and pieces, a job they have going with a guy named Rutherford over in Montana. They tried to convince me the job was above board and wouldn’t take much of their time. Deputy, I know and you know David Rutherford.” Abron commented, “Dillon had no way of knowing that Rutherford had been killed twenty-four hours earlier.” Isabel couldn’t hold her excitement and said, “You’re on to their location and maybe even the gold. Am I right?” Abron slowly smiled. Isabel then played the unfair card she always carried. Looking directly into his eyes, she whispered, “It’s time for my ulterior motive for this fishing trip.” He responded softly, “Too late for any detective work tonight. Looks like I’m all in.” The rookie poker player smiled.

Chapter 61

Stakeout

Before the sun came up, Abron and Izzy had their fly poles tuned and ready. Kelsey had done his homework finding that a Salmon fly hatch had recently run its course on the St. Regis River and Little Joe creak just below the mighty Clark Fork river. Armed with hackles, coachman, and salmon fly lookalikes, the Ford SUV was slowly creeping toward a dirt road that ran alongside the St. Regis. Keeping to the north side of the river, Abron parked in a stand of jack pines. “Izzy, that’s the trailer Dillon told me about hidden back in the brush between us and the river.” The trailer was about two hundred yards away. “Where’s the cold storage rental building?” she asked. Kelsey quietly answered, “Not visible from here. We need to enter the river and fish our way up north toward Clark Fork. The meat locker is located across the highway in the open next to the general store and bar. If we do make , or they are as paranoid as Robinson told me, your hat, shades, red flannel shirt, and waders should make you stand out like any other fly fisherman. In other words, you’ll be invisible. “Bob and Allen have seen you before. Be wary of angles while you’re fishing. The pair may have glasses on you. Be active. Don’t give them too long with one pose. The river is down and should only be two or three feet deep except near the banks. If you catch a trout, display it in my direction. Let’s catch a bad guy or two today,” Abron finished. Slowly entering the river, Isabel had forgotten how the pull of the current acted on her legs. Combined with the rocky bottom, she was momentarily unstable. The northwest gal righted herself and began wading across to the other side, just

like she had done so many times, growing up by her father’s side. About halfway across, she began looping the leaded line toward a dark pool along the approaching bank. A loud impact shattered the early morning silence. Isabel yelled and turned back to Abron. “Beaver slapping his tail. You’re in his territory know,” yelled Abron. The beaver was headed toward Clark Fork when he almost ran into her legs. Just eight feet away, he had let fly the warning. Abron hooked into a fairly decent tug. Cautiously he worked the trout toward the cabin. Brush covering the bank hid his movements. With a sharp eye, he saw it, reflecting off the sunrise a slight flash from a binocular lens exposed in the lower righthand part of the single wide window. Abron and Isabel had scouted the cabin when they first pulled into St. Regis. From afar they could not see any signs of life. Not even a vehicle nearby. Without showing himself to the trailer, Deputy Kelsey drew in the trout and released it. Slowly climbing out of the river, he slid under the shore brush to get a better look at the front door. No movement. The St. Regis was running fast enough to create background noise, eliminating any chance he had of catching sound coming from the trailer. The moment was shattered again when Izzy let go of a hoopla akin to a Shoshone brave announcing victory. Abron shinnied back into the water, sighting Isabel near the far shore, shouting in excitement, “It’s a monster.” All thoughts of surveillance were out. Izzy was caught in the excitement of landing a five-pounder or greater with a fly pole. From that moment in time, the only spying taking place was from the cabin outward. Abron did not want to be seen with Izzy. He gestured for her to meet him back at the SUV. Fifteen minutes later, when she came stomping up to Abron, she was mad. “That was the biggest cutthroat I’ve ever caught, and where were you with the camera? My mom and dad would have loved to see a picture before I released it.” Kelsey quickly ed the tee-hee stage and was starting to laugh out loud. Izzy was turning red-faced. “Isabel, you’re supposed to be helping me catch the bad guys.” It took less than two seconds for Isabel to return to reality. Kelsey started

laughing louder. “Well, all right,” she shouted, heading to the back of the Ford to stash her gear. Back at the motel, Abron broke the silence, “Izzy, you were wonderful. I’m pretty sure both our perps were watching the show you put on. They were using binocs.” “Let’s go have some bacon and eggs at the café before we start phase two,” he said. Still pouting, she uttered, “You should have had a camera.” Then countered with “They could get away while we’re in the diner?” Detective Kelsey was a step ahead, saying, “The diner has the best view of the front door to the meat lockers.” After two hours with no customers coming to the lockers, the couple retreated to their room. Handing her his phone, she looked at the picture on the screen and said, “That’s the front of the cold storage.” Kelsey answered, “I left another cell facing the door late last night after you were asleep. The battery life should last until nightfall.” “Listen closely to what I have to say next,” he warned instead of asking Isabel. “Bob and Allen are dangerous. I’m hoping at least one, if not both, of them enter the meat locker. I need you to come in and identify them after the melee. What you will see may not be pretty,” he warned. “If I haven’t found the locker Dillon told me about, you had better step back outside while I finish interrogating them.” Isabel Davis Kelsey had heard the rumors about her husband’s methods of getting to the truth. She only knew him to be a kind, loving soul, so she agreed. Knowing he was good at his job was enough.

Chapter 62

The Trap

The sun had faded early in the west, shaded by the mountains in Mineral County. St. Regis was turning dark. The cold storage business was open without management from 6:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. Hunters and families seldom used their keys during these hours. On the second night of watching and waiting, Izzy and Abron heard voices coming from the woods in the direction of the single wide that was positioned near the river. Earlier, while still light, Deputy Kelsey had disabled the one lone lightbulb positioned above the entrance to the meat locker. Footsteps grew louder as a man was emerging from the woods onto the gravel then the oiled road. Isabel’s heart was starting to beat faster. Alone in the SUV, her mind was working overtime. She knew where Abron was positioned, but Izzie’s line of sight didn’t afford her a physical view of him. The man now standing in front of the locker door looked huge, dressed in boots, jeans, a heavy jacket, and a baseball-style cap. Isabel checked to make sure her .38 was where she put it. Along with the never-ending sound of the river rushing by, a wind rustled the pines and cottonwoods positioned around her. As the man entered the building and made his way to a locker, it seemed to Isabel like time was standing still, and she dared not take a breath. A dark shadow slipped onto the wooden walkway to the entrance. She knew it was Abron. Knowing the POI would be wary if the inside lights were disabled, Kelsey had to risk a two or three-second eye adjustment when he entered the room. Bursting through the door created the effect Kelsey was hoping for. The target jumped back from his locker, so startled he almost fell over backward, just catching himself before Abron was on him. It was over in a heartbeat. Allen had a gun aimed at his head from a step away. Dillon’s cousin knew who was holding the gun and froze. “Dillon Robinson sends his greetings,” said Abron. “He would like some of his money to go to his sister and her kids. If you and Bob spent it all before I found

you, I was to dispose of your bodies in the dump north of town. You know, the one where the bears feed!” “But you’re a sheriff’s deputy. You can’t do that.” Abron answered, “Down on your knees, hands behind your head, now. Where is your brother?” “Right behind you with your wife,” came a voice just inside the door. “Drop the gun, or I put a bullet in her head.” Abon dropped the gun and slowly turned to face Izzy and Bob, leaving his back exposed to the no-nonsense Allen. Abron Kelsey needed that moment, when the threat to Isabel had lessened. Hearing a gun hammer being cocked, Kelsey yelled. Izzy went limp as Abron roundhouse kicked the larger of the two brothers. While spinning, he pulled the second gun from his planted ankle and fired straight at the head of Bob, face now exposed from the dropping Izzie. Turning to face Allen, the big guy was bringing up his gun to take a shot. The deafening sound that hit next inside the locker was completely unexpected by both combatants. Bob took the impact to his chest and fell backward. Deputy Kelsey turned to see Isabel with a smoking gun. Captain Link Mathias from the superior office was telling Kelsey and Isabel about what was found in the lockers and the single wide mobile home. “Fifteen gold coins, at least a hundred pounds of loose gold, twenty-three firearms, and enough dynamite to level most of St. Regis. We also found this,” said Link as he handed Abron the briefcase. “I wish you two weren’t such good shots. Your captain, the FBI, and I would have liked to question the deceased. I had copies made of the contents of the briefcase. You can keep the originals. These boys were planning something big with that dynamite. The two of you saved a lot of innocent lives tonight.” Isabel didn’t know what to think, still in shock over killing someone three hours earlier. The “saving innocent lives” from Link helped ease her mind. Captain Mathias then asked, “Could you hang in here a couple of days in case we have to dot some Is? I’ve cleared it with Saunders.” Abron looked straight at Isabel.

Winking, he said, “Yes, I’d like to take a picture.”

Chapter 63

The Deputy Delivers

“I’d like to go with you,” said Isabel. “When Saunders and Mathias agree to cut me loose, I think an extra couple of travel days would be in order,” he replied. Fly fishing and questioning over, the Kelseys were packed and ready for the long drive home that included a scenic sidestep. At Couer d’Alene the couple turned southward through the Palouse Country, past Moscow and neighboring city, Pullman, Washington. Descending Lewiston Hill on the Lewiston grade, they crossed the Clearwater and then the Snake River into Clarkston. “I was only at the house for a couple of hours. It wasn’t pleasant,” Abron told his wife. The porch light on, the Kelseys knocked. Answering the door was a well-kept woman in her thirties with two kids peeking around her at the visitors. “May my wife and I come in?” he asked. It took a second to realize who was asking, then she said, “Yes,” calling her husband to the door. The six standing there were speechless. Isabel broke the ice, “My husband, Deputy Kelsey, wants you to have something sent by your brother, Dillon.” Abron added, “I made your brother a promise that your family would have what’s in this travel bag. I also swore that no one except the two of you would know its contents.”

Isabel handed it to Robinson’s sister and her husband. Opening the valise and peering inside, Abron and Isabel saw a complete look of confusion on their faces. “Eight hundred twenty-five thousand dollars, unmarked, and nobody’s missing It. The five coins are another matter. They could be traced back to you. Consider an attorney to handle the sale. Each of those coins is worth more than six hundred thousand dollars. Don’t flaunt your money. It doesn’t exist to anyone except your family and Dillon after we leave you. It would be believable if we denied we were here tonight. Talk to your brother before you do anything rash.” They were speechless. Standing in the doorway, Dillon’s closest family didn’t know whether to smile and wave or call 911.

Chapter 64

Mayor and DA

Captain Shawn Saunders entered the room with an assured smile on his face. District Attorney Donny Webb, along with Spokane’s chief of police, Mayor Mason Lindley, and a stenographer were seated at the conference table. Saunders was delivering a final report on several cases involving his department. Handing a copy to all four, he began a quick overview of a lengthy report, which spanned thirty-six months. “You’ve all had time to peruse the original report from my office. What I’m presenting now is that same original with an additional one hundred pages from the FBI, centered around a Chicago syndicate dealings within Spokane/Couer d’Alene area. Also included in this report, you’ll find a forty-page addendum that finalizes Deputy Kelsey and his wife’s involvement with the deaths of Dillon Robinson’s cousins, who we believe were the final bombing related perps. As you will read, all felons involved with explosives incidents and all missing dynamite from the local mining district have been ed for.” Saunders paused then added, “When you have absorbed the breadth of this second report, I will be available anytime to answer any questions you may have, in person or on the net. If there are any at this junction, I am open for questions.” Mayor Lindley quickly, before anyone else had a chance, asked, “Phylis and David McCoy.” Then he added, “Captain Saunders, your department has kept us in the loop with everything imaginable except where we stand today on their murder investigation.” Donny Webb chimed in, “Phyllis was a rising star in our office.” Captain Saunders paused for an extended period of time. Shawn was thinking

about everything Abron and Agent Monroe told him to look for. After making a couple of mental notes, Saunders answered Lindley’s question, “Our detectives believe that a conspiracy is still in place that involves money, a Chicago syndicate, and a cover-up by persons within the local aluminum plant union. As you will note in the FBI report, some names are specifically mentioned. Shawn’s stenographer, sitting next to the conference table, was taking mental notes of movement by persons in the room. The mayor was the next to speak, “I myself need some time alone on my boat to go back over the entire report.” Changing the subject, Mason asked Donny, “How’s that new cabin cruiser working out for you?” Webb answered, “My wife talked me into it. I thought it was a bit much, but as your DA, I’ve learned you can’t fight city hall.” The meeting was adjourned by the mayor. All present understood, more questions needed to be presented before the report would be finalized.

Chapter 65

Recapping Past

The posse was making conversation at the Davenport. Their wives were playing bunco that night. Deputies Rowe, Hollander, O’Neal, Kelsey, Domenico, Foster, and Agent Monroe were enjoying a beer. Jim O’Neal spoke up about his recent foray into Idaho, “After hearing so much about Abron’s near-death experience, I took a trip out to Rose Lake. The crater you guys told me about is covered over, and the old farmhouse is being rebuilt. Apparently, Joe and Wesley’s place has recently sold.” Abron asked, “Any realty signs or people out there?” “Couldn’t find anybody, so I went to the Carlson place down the way. A construction company’s sign was out front of the house, but again no signs of life.” Kelsey was thinking to himself, Isabel can find out who’s behind this. “Did you know Captain Mathias is pushing for a civilian Medal of Valor for Izzy?” stated O’Neal. Hollander fired away, “What? For marrying Kelsey?” The deputies ordered another round while chuckling. Domenico added, “The bunco ladies have made Isabel their sergeant of arms.” More laughter. A year earlier, Jake and Abron, along with Rowe and Hollander, had experienced a mole within their department that was feeding information to a couple of local crime lords. Deputy Pat Price had been killed along with Deputy Maria Flores by a CDA lieutenant now incarcerated. Because of this, original posse had

spent some time investigating O’Neal, Domenico, and Foster. It was a given they were trustworthy and privy within the band of deputies. Jake was predesignated to let the newbies in on the latest. “The FBI report, through Abron and my request, had a part deleted concerning the disc jockey and the ladies of the night found in Liberty and CDA lakes. Although the murders took place over forty years ago, those six bodies are relevant to the McCoy killings just three years ago.” All ears came to life. Abron then said, “It’s going to take everyone seated at this table to bring justice for the McCoys. Jake and I have a plan!” “Captain Saunders, Joi Bradley, and Kelly McCallum are the only persons other than the seven of us that will be helping with our next move,” spoke Monroe. “Before we sound the starting gun, Deputy Kelsey and I will need to interview Bryce Mc Callen, Diesel Hart, otherwise known as Boot Brace, and former Spokane assistant district attorney, Cynthia Berdot.” Kelsey added, “The interviews will be in the next week.” Hollander then called and end to the meeting by reminding them of certain bunco players that might want a ride home. As the posse was stirring to leave, O’Neal asked Monroe about his plane that ended up in the Clearwater a few weeks before. “I’m going for my private pilot license flight exam in a couple of weeks. I’ll be testing in a 172 Cessna. How bad was your Piper Camanche damaged? Will it ever fly again?” “You’re interested in flying. That’s fantastic. You won’t regret any time spent at the controls of a plane. As hard as it is for me to believe, yes, it will fly again. The Comanche was hauled from the clearwater and transported to Geiger Field. My insurance company and blanket coverage by the sheriff’s department will cover the entire resurrecting of the Piper. If you need any time in question and answer before your exam, I’d be glad to help.” Detective O’Neal would use that help and later the oral and flying test to earn his ticket.

“Kelley and Joi’s help on those freezers was above and beyond what I had hoped for,” commented Monroe to Kelsey as everyone was departing.

Chapter 66

Prior to the Agostino Explosion

The week before Diesel Hart was to be released from Orofino, Bryce McCallen was being mustered in, awaiting trial. Boot Brace (Diesel Hart) gained many friendships in prison; one of which was Mason Lee. The two shared a jail cell for six months before Diesel was released. Both had learned fast and hard, on the streets growing up, how to make easy money. Word got around the prison yard that a former union labor boss was looking for some help in the outside world. Diesel and Mason approached Bryce at the first chance they had. Bryce asked the pair a lot of questions then put out feelers as to their reliability. Both were known as tough, do-anything-for-a dollar felons. The pressure was on Bryce with his trial coming closer. He needed to make a quick decision. DNA evidence and testimony from Agent Monroe and Deputy Kelsey would make the DA’s case formidable. Hart and Lee’s history included work in several mines within the Silver Valley of North Idaho, both gyppo miners for most of their work time underground. Hart was known as a masterful dynamiter. The two were approached by a go-between after Bryce made up his mind to hire them. Mason would be released two weeks after Diesel. The money was exceptionally good, half upfront the remainder after the job was done. The monies would allow Boot Brace and Lee a big leg up on their newfound independence and celebrating. McCallen had learned through his union confidants that both Abron and Jake would be attending a birthday party at an Italian restaurant in downtown Spokane.

6 months later

Caught, processed, and awaiting trial, Diesel and Mason were spending time in

the county jail, wishing they had never met Bryce McCallen. Everything was going south for Bryce as well. Death was searching for a way in.

Chapter 67

Daria and Johnny

“Somebody is always one step ahead of us with the McCoy case,” Jake was telling Abron. “Losing Rutherford, Luna, and Cassidy along with Dillon’s cousins has taken its toll on my resources.” “Can you get us a face-to-face with Daria and Johnny?” questioned Abron. “It’s possible. What are you thinking?” “As well-hidden as the syndicate bosses are that pull the strings, there may be a link somewhere from the 1970s that we’ve missed. Whoever hit our union guys in Whitefish last week were brought in from outside and knew the lay of the land surrounding the house. Before we interrogate the prisoner from the crime scene, I need to talk to Daria and Johnny.” Agent Monroe was beyond trying to figure out Deputy Kelsey’s thinking. Many times over the last two years while investigating a case with Abron, Jake could read the signs that Kelsey was on to something. Jake answered Abron’s request, “I’ll get the okay and location of our meeting this afternoon.” Daria Zakharov and the Dawson family were being watched closely in temporary safe houses, awaiting permanent relocation. The FBI, immediately upon Agent Monroe’s request, set up a next-day meeting for the hideaways with Jake and Abron. The last bit of loyalty Johnny shared with Chicago had waned quickly after the death of Dawson’s uncle—the uncle that introduced him to the Chicago mob many years earlier. Witness protection for Johnny and his wife snapped the bonds between the two and his former bosses. Daria Zakharov would do anything she could to implicate anyone associated

with the sex-trafficking ring she was a part of for so many years. Deputy Kelsey and Agent Monroe knew going in what questions they needed answers for. The friendly interrogation would take place with just the four of them in the room. Jake and Abron would arrive early and go over the room for bugs in preparation for the witness’s arrival. For a moment, Abron thought he was back in Afghanistan. Kelsey knew when the bomb went off that it was at least a half mile away. The sound of light arms fire bolstered his first thought. “That’s a firefight. Somebody is trying to kill our witnesses,” said Abron. Jake looked confused. The bombing area went silent in less than a minute. In the next minute, a prolonged silence was broken by Jake’s cell ringing. Monroe turned to his partner and said, “They’re dead, everyone in the SUV with Daria and Johnny. Even their handlers were killed.” Abron pulled his gun, pointing it at Agent Monroe, then he said, “I need to know the chain of command—from your last night to anyone that would know Daria and Johnny were being transported here.” Jake was speechless, his thoughts spinning out of control, like a loosed helicopter blade. “Abron—” Jake said. The detective cut him short. “Kneel down, hands behind your head. If you go for your weapon, I’ll know for sure. Don’t even flinch.” Abron cuffed his partner and removed the agent’s gun. Kelsey then explained the situation, “In my eyes, you’re guilty until we prove you innocent. Who did you give the request to last night for our meeting?” “An agent in Clarksburg, West Virginia, at HQ. I would vouch for him under any circumstances. I know him and his family that well!” said Jake. Abron replied, “Who’s going to vouch for you?” “I’ll dial. I want him on speakerphone. You’re going to ask who he handed the request to?”

Abron knew in an instant that Isabel and Jake’s family were in danger, whether Jake was a turncoat or not. Monroe called Gary Jacobs’s personal cell. “Jake, is the meeting going okay?” “No-shows,” replied Jake. Abron switched off the cell. “Would Jacobs be privy to time and place for our meeting?” Jake’s reply was given with a look of dire concern, “I don’t think so!” Abron immediately called Captain Saunders. “Captain, this is an emergency. Time is of the essence.” The deputy then told his captain what had taken place. “Jake and I will wait in place until you hear. Thanks, Cap.” Abron hung up. His next call went to Izzy. “Isabel, grab your .38. Go to Elise’s house. Call Ron and Terry on the way and have them meet you there.” Izzy began to speak. Abron interrupted her, “No questions, wait for my call or Captain Saunders to come by.” The cell went dead. When Saunders called the J. Edgar Hoover building in Washington, DC, he used the number given to the heads of law enforcement in every state. Shawn Saunders was a pro when it came to less talk. Never straying, he was precise. Even then, it took a minute before he got to the level needed for the situation. When he reached a security clearance he was seeking, Shawn dropped an immediate bomb, “Your agent Jake Monroe has a knife at his throat.” Saunders updated the commander. All paths were covered in and out of FBI Agent Gary Jacobs’s cell phone and dedicated lines. Those lines led to only two persons, his immediate controller and the controller’s boss. Both were picked up within twenty-five minutes of Saunders’s call. Shawn Saunders’s cell buzzed. “Captain, all holes are plugged. Cell-phone history and search warrants should tell the story. Have Deputy Kelsey hand over Monroe to our agents with him now. We will have two agents on duty 24-7 at both family houses. You need to

be protected until we have the answers.” Kelsey hated what he was being forced to do, but he could show no remorse to his partner being taken away in cuffs.

Chapter 68

The Rat

“Izzy, meet me where the huckleberry pancakes are the best.” The cell phone went dead immediately. Isabel gave no explanation to anyone when she was heading for the door, except, “My mom and dad need an explanation. I’ve got to go now.” Terry Hollander and one of the G-men followed her out. No questions were asked. Hollander knew to follow her instructions. Terry rode shotgun with Isabel. The agent followed them in his car. ing by the Liberty Lake exit headed for Post Falls, Isabel’s cell chimed. “Anyone with you?” asked Abron. “Terry in the car. A bureau agent following us.” “Give the phone to Terry.” “Hollander,” spoke Terry. “Terry, Kelsey. You need to lose the FBI agent behind you.” “Abron, if someone is holding a gun to your head, say cloudy.” “Terry, the problem is with the FBI. They have a rat or two involved with the McCoy case and the aluminum-factory union workers. Cap is working with internal affairs at the highest level of the bureau. Until we hear from him, Jake’s family and Isabel are in the line of fire.” “Ten-four, Kelsey. See you in twenty-five after Izzy shakes a tail feather.” When Terry hung up, he saw the most peculiar look on Isabel’s face.

“You know your husband better than I. He wants you to lose the agent following us. Pull over, and I’ll see if I’m an unwanted enger in his car. Meet you two in Post Falls after I do some accessing. Make five or six left turns before you find Abron.” Isabel pulled over. Twenty minutes later, at the Kelsey’s favorite breakfast and late-night diner, Isabel was all ears. Deputy Hollander was almost a half hour behind Izzie’s arrival at the diner. While the couple was waiting for Terry, Abron was calmly trying to assure Isabel that she was protected. “Mrs. Kelsey,” he began, “our department is at odds with an FBI agent or two. I thought about putting you in cuffs and keeping you close, but I know the temptation you present to me. Your beautiful, enchanting smile and petite little ass would put a halt to any investigating I need to follow through with tonight.” Isabel started to give him that look. “Izzy, stop it,” Abron stated. Luckily, Terry arrived and was heading to their table. Deputy Lieutenant Hollander, as was his nature, noticed everyone in the dining area after giving a once-over to the parking lot on his way to the front door. “Izzy, any trouble with all the left turns?” “My flat foot not only taught me to shoot but gave me driving lessons as well. Piece of cake,” she replied. Terry smiled and noticed Abron staring at her. “Jesus Christ, Kelsey, can you please stop perving? You two have been married for several months now.” Abron was hoping Izzy wouldn’t mention the cuffs. Terry spoke, “Agent Landen, outside in the car is, from what I can tell, neutral. I told him a story then asked a few questions about his previous assignment. First duty station. A rookie trying to find his way. What’s going on, Abron?” Kelsey told the two about the assassination of Johnny and Daria, his arresting

Jake Monroe, the call to Captain Saunders, and his thoughts on the Monroe family and Isabel. Isabel and Terry were dumbfounded, both fumbling to ask the first question, when Abron’s cell rang.

Chapter 69

Relocation

Abron answered his cell. “Thank God,” he commented. “Until we find out which one, where can we hide Izzy and the Monroes?” Within a minute, Kelsey clicked off the cell. “Terry, we need to move them to a safer location near Liberty Lake. Izzy, it’s furnished, plenty of room for all four of you. Jake has been cleared by his higher-ups. Terry and I will need him with us over the next week. The four of you can’t be seen outside the house until we find out who’s killing our witnesses.” “Saunders waved off the bureau’s help with surveillance and protection. Our guys will have full control guarding you, Elise, and the kids.” Abron looked at Terry and asked, “Is Captain Drager in Wallace reliable?” Hollander replied, “I like and trust the man. He also turned over the lead to the boys up the line in Chicago. Drager shows no signs of an allegiance to anyone but his own department. While you were busy with the Daria and Johnny, he called with a location and ident on the boys involved with Luna and Cassidy at the Elks.” “That’s a good conversation starter when we meet with him. Can you set it up for us ASAP?” The next morning found Lieutenant Hollander and Deputy Kelsey seated over breakfast at a small Wallace café with their guest, Captain Drager.

Chapter 70

Vindication

Bureau Agent Jake Monroe answered his cell. A friend’s voice from the crime lab in Seattle said, “Are you sitting down?” Not giving Jake a chance to respond, the voice on the phone added more, “Your plane went down because of an incendiary device placed under the wing next to your twenty-gallon long-range tank. Lucky it was empty. I don’t have time to chat. Just know something is coming down at our office.” The phone clicked off. Jake called Abron, “I know you acted properly in that hotel room because you were forced to at the time. I also have been told that I am not a hundred percent vindicated at this time.” Abron stayed silent on the other end. “Thank you for helping Elise and the kids so quickly after Daria and Johnny were killed.” “Sorry and you’re welcome,” Kelsey replied. Jake continued, “Just fielded a call from a friend at the bureau. They found a small incendiary device under the wing that caused our crash-landing. We weren’t there that long. The plane was out in the open. Somebody had to see who planted it. Could be another couple of days before I’m cleared. But I knew you would want this information ASAP.” “Thank you, Jake. Hope to see you soon.” Kelsey abruptly clicked off. “Captain Saunders, can I borrow Deputy O’Neal for a long day or two in Orofino?” asked Abron. “When and where?” Shawn responded. “And, Abron, my at the FBI found the main culprit-in-hiding through disposable cell phones that were supposed to be foolproof. The POI had buried offshore s with deposits

dating back almost fifteen years. He’s second up the ladder from Jake. I was told his ties run deep in Chicago. I’m expecting a list of names within the next fortyeight hours. Good hunting. O’Neal will be there.” Calling Izzy, he found the four to be safe and adjusting to their temporary way of life in hiding. Knowing her husband, she said, “I love you, handsome. Please don’t put your neck in a noose that you can’t get out of!” Abron replied, “Love you. Back in forty-eight.” O’Neal drove most of the way to Orofino. This gave Kelsey several hours to fill Jim in on what was going to take place upon arrival and what to be wary of.

Chapter 71

McCallen

O’Neal left Abron and doubled back halfway to the visitor entrance at Orofino State Prison. Trees within the parking area helped to hide his deception. Keeping his radar working overtime, Jim found a tree limb that would hold his Osmotype pocket camera in place without swaying in the breeze. He checked the pan of the device for problems. When all was functional, the camera was left on while he returned to Kelsey inside the prison entrance. Their car was now under surveillance on O’Neal’s second phone. Abron reiterated the importance of the camera, “If it can happen to an airplane, our car could end up a bomb.” As McCallen was being taken to an interrogation room, his jailers told him to stand in place until both guards came out of the men’s lavatory. A lone inmate was walking toward him. Bryce began to shout. The inmate was on him before the second cry for help. A shiv flashed in front of McCallen’s eyes but missed its mark. The assailant kneed Bryce as both his ears were slapped hard. In a stunning concussion, Bryce went down. His lights dimmed to black. “Where am I? What happened? Please help. My head feels like it’s going to explode.” Kelsey spoke, “Somebody wants you dead, Bryce. Fortunately, two guards saved your life.” Bryce spat out, “My jailers left me in the hallway to be murdered.” Kelsey responded, “That’s not how they tell it. I want you to look at these notes and filings which have your name all over them.” Bryce was visibly shaken, finding it hard to concentrate on anything.

“I need help. Medical attention,” he said. “McCallen, you know me. Help is not on the way while I’m in front of you. Check out the paper with the red tape.” Bryce focused. “They wouldn’t do that,” he said. Abron jumped on it, “Chicago is throwing you to the wolves. We now have your DNA at the McCoys house, where they were murdered by you, and wiretaps giving you orders to kill two weeks earlier.” “Those aren’t real. I want to speak to my attorney.” “He’s not here. If you don’t start giving me names, I will let you walk back to your cell alone. If you don’t make it, I think it will be a blessing in disguise. If you do make it in one piece, mark my words, it will be the start of a three- to five-year nightmare on death row.” Bryce was red-faced, his hair disheveled, ears ringing unmercifully, head painful to the touch. “If I don’t have these names identified by you, you’re faced with one option. Dillon Robinson owes me a favor.” McCallen’s head jerked upward, his eyes wide open, and he asked, “If I do, will I ever see the light of day outside prison walls?” “About the time you would file for retirement, you could be clear.” Twenty-eight years, he thought. Bryce began to sing. He gave approximate dates and persons involved with killings and bombings at the Spokane aluminum factory, persons in charge of the illegal transfer of toxic wastes across state lines, finally detailing the killing of the McCoys and those that gave the orders. Abron was amazed at how his intuitions were unfolding minute by minute as Bryce spoke. Abron had a thought, Dillon was not a part of it after all. Bryce kept on talking into the recorder: the bombing of his and Izzie’s condo, the bombing of Augustino’s, the killing of the plant’s former man in charge, Gus Taylor. When Bryce McCallen was finished, Abron asked him several more questions that he needed answers for. Walking Bryce back to his jail cell,

McCallen kept staring at Deputy Jim O’Neal that ed them outside the interrogation room. When the cell door closed, his mind saw a clear picture of a shiv coming at him held by O’Neal. Bryce knew there were no marks on his body that would prove he was assaulted.

Chapter 72

Together Again

With Captain Saunders overseeing the reunion, the agent and the deputy reconciled peacefully and began a process of comparison, searching for more evidence linking the names given by Bryce to the sheriff’s department in Spokane. “The meeting you asked for is after dinner tonight in Wallace,” Saunders told Abron and Jake. “I need both of you there.”’ Hollander and Domenico came back from Great Falls with the same conclusion, “Captain Drager gave us about the teens that helped break into the Elks club. They gave us a positive ID on Luna and Cassidy as the masterminds.” Thinking of the meeting with Ms. Arnold, okayed by Captain Drager, Abron changed the subject, asking, “Captain, from what I gather, Larisa could be the first autistic savant I will have the pleasure to deal with. Her report from Drager is so intensely prepared it presents itself as having taken years to compile and write.” Jake had little time to read the report in its entirety. Monroe’s expertise would be useful through his gathering names and information contained in the bureau’s database, names that matched with Larisa’s report and Bryce McCallen’s leads. The meeting was held inside a waiting room at the Wallace sheriff’s department, where Larisa would be most comfortable with her surroundings. After introductions, Drager, Larisa Arnold, Monroe, and Kelsey waded into all the information. Deputy Kelsey’s mind was on par with Larisa’s. The matchup of names and dates began to take shape. Both Agent Monroe and Captain Drager were awestruck by the conversation between the other two in the room. Jake would later describe to his agency leaders, “It was like watching two computers communicate in the year 2050. They both knew what to ask and where the

conversation was going before I could identify any trends.” Information was ing so quickly between the interviewer and interviewee both Drager and Monroe thought the treasure trove of leads would be lost forever. They weren’t recording it, and a stenographer wasn’t available. Monroe and Drager did the best they could, writing down pertinent names. Court Archival Manager Larisa Arnold walked the two blocks to her home on the hill, overlooking Wallace, escorted by the three lawmen, when the meeting concluded. Abron asked Jake and Charley to accompany him to an all-night café just around the corner from the sheriff’s department. “Fact-check,” said Kelsey. Both Jake’s and Charlie’s heads were still spinning when they sat down. “All five girls found in our lakes were identified by Larisa through medical reports from 1972. The ladies in question were checked weekly, blood samples taken, vaginal examinations—standard operating procedure for the female workers at the brothels. Johnny Dawson used a local motel a dozen times a year in Wallace. Dates point to a continuing shuttle of these ladies in and out of the Smelterville/Kellogg airport. Larisa hoarded gas receipts that were used to report earnings and air traffic at the landing strip.” She cabbaged on to everything and anything that could be connected to the brothels. “Donny Cynkovich, a.k.a. Nile Rivers, was working at the local radio station when all five women were being sex trafficked. His disappearance coincides with a 1966 Pontiac Bonneville he owned, being reported by junkyard owners, out of Priest River that happened within three months of Nile’s disappearance. The Pontiac had over forty bullet holes and no window glass, just fragments inside the seating areas. According to the sheriff’s report back then, no one at the junkyard saw it being brought in.” “Finally,” Jake interrupted, “evidence that solves the mystery of the wounds found in all six bodies. Our forensics people called the number of entry wounds a four-decade-old bloodbath.” Charley spoke while he had the opportunity, “Deputy Kelsey, you’re the first person I’ve met that could communicate on Larisa’s level. In less than one minute, you coaxed her out of her protective shell.” Abron began again, “There is one crucial piece of evidence that will tie the

murders to the syndicate still out there.” Drager and Monroe’s attention came full force, back to Abron. Kelsey asked, “Is your Piper Comanche flyable?”

Chapter 73

The Flight

After a thorough preflight, the four tanks were topped off. The extra 320 pounds of fuel in the long-range tanks wouldn’t hinder the Camanche’s performance, as two seats were empty. Jake Monroe made all the decisions contained in their flight plan. First stop, Reno for refueling. Second landing put them on the ground in Beatty, Nevada. Over lunch at a local Beatty casino/café. They plotted their next move, both careful not to bring attention to themselves. The Bureau had found indicators that linked several of the brothels on the list to ownerships that were still active today, forty-plus years after Dawson was transporting women and merchandise. Jake and Abron, wheels up out of Beatty, next flew northeast into a small airport at Salt Lake City. Kelsey and Monroe were keeping track of time spent in the air between stops. They needed to prove the round trip taken by Johnny Dawson back in 1972 was possible in the time frame given them. In the early afternoon, the fourth leg of their journey took them to Libby, Montana, as the sun was setting. Spending most of their flying time at 9,500 to 11,500, the Comanche showed its worth, cutting through the sky at Jake’s desired cruise speed, purring like a kitten. Agent Monroe commented to Abron that the landing time was within his parameters for all four legs combined. Monroe had filed separate flight plans for each of the first three hops. At the request of Kelsey, the flight from Salt Lake to Libby had no flight plan filed with the FAA. Landing in Libby had to be on the QT. The agent and the deputy were aware of eyes and ears everywhere along their route. Landing at dusk in Montana allowed Jake to keep his landing lights off. The runway lights did not need to be

activated. When the two deplaned and tied down, darkness was enveloping the small fixed base operation. The waning light coupled with the unannounced landing would work in their favor. Johnny had given the lawmen the exact location of his former hanger when they first met in Pahrump. Dawson never returned to the empty hanger after his years in prison. He had sold it through a friend to a local businessman while doing time. That same person still possessed the building that housed the owner’s old Navion. Locating the hanger was not difficult. Jake took the time before the flight began that morning to gather reconnaissance photos of the Libby fixed base operation, FBO. Bolt cutters let the boys enter unannounced. Dawson had described the whereabouts of his in-ground safe that had been hidden by a threeby-three-feet square piece of concrete inset that masked the safe’s whereabouts within the concrete floor. Removing a few boxes exposed the fine lines of cut concrete. The tool Johnny Dawson had described worked perfectly in pulling the small slab out of its place. The safe was there; the combination to the lock ended with a slight click. Folders and two handguns were removed. The Smith and Wesson revolver and a 1911 Colt clip load had each been placed in doubled plastic bags. Both bags contained small bags of rice to collect moisture. The folders along with Johnny’s old logbook were carefully removed. Abron heard it first. Shoving Monroe head over heels away from him, Abron used some of the force to propel himself backward behind the boxes they had just moved. Two small automatic weapons rang out. The noise was deafening. Every live round was either hitting the metal building or the Navion. Abron fired his Glock after the first bursts from the intruders. Jake ed in, quickly emptying his first clip. Monroe wasn’t fast enough to elude the spray from the second burst. He went down hard, wedged into the corner of the building where it met the floor. Kelsey fired once at the flashing muzzle of the weapon that shot Jake. It went silent. Diving forward, Abron found good cover behind a stand-up toolbox half a heartbeat before the other automatic weapon peppered his former location. Kelsey needed to see the second muzzle flash. Exposing his face to the gunfire that was still aimed at where he was an instant earlier, Kelsey squeezed the trigger. The next few seconds were quiet. The smell of gunpowder hung in the air. The only light was from Abron’s small flashlight six feet away on the concrete.

“Jake,” whispered Abron. “They shot me twice. One is serious,” came the reply. Abron couldn’t stop to help Monroe. At the door, ready to clear the outside area, a familiar sound and impact made him fall to the ground. An AK, he thought. The higher-caliber weapon made an impact noise that was more familiar than that of the small caliber automatic weapons fired a moment earlier. One way in, one way out, he thought. Visualizing the layout and cover he noted when walking up to the hanger, Abron dove out the door, somersaulting the second the AK-47 paused. A round hit his lower leg just as he found partial concealment under a low wing tied up out front. The wound gave him a direction of the third assailant, at least forty yards away with sparse light. his return fire would have to be extremely lucky to silence whoever was shooting at him. As another bullet hit the small tire he was behind. Abron moved again onto the wing, affording him greater cover with the cab of the low wing. A loud pop coming from the hanger he was just in startled him. Like a cat, he twisted down to a prone position on the wing and looked toward the hanger door. A fourth assailant was face down on the small tarmac. Jake, he thought. Someone was running. Abron peered over the top of the fuselage in time to see a dark shape running away from him. With his leg bleeding profusely, Abron fell to the ground, took aim from a prone position, and fired three shots in quick succession at the running body. Not knowing if he hit his target, Kelsey grit his teeth and ran to Agent Monroe. “Help’s on the way, my friend.” Jake Monroe was fading. Abron flashed back to what Christian Caine must have gone through when Christian found him half dead in a barn at Rose Lake.

Chapter 74

Libby Hospital

Jake Monroe was attached to a ventilator, still knocked out from his surgery, when Elise, her children, and Isabel arrived at the hospital in Libby. Pulling up in two different Sheriff’s SUVs, the four were escorted into the building by three armed deputies. A fourth would watch the vehicles. Not being able to enter the ICU, they were taken to Abon’s room with a promise from the attending nurse that Jake’s surgeon would update them in a few minutes. Isabel began to cry when she saw her husband. She, too, had flashbacks from his injuries when Christian found him. Abron kissed Izzy and said, “I can talk this time. Izzy, I need to tell Elise and her kids something.” As Isabel stepped back, he could see the devastation the call to Jake’s family caused. With a booming voice, Abron stated, “Jake will live! Your husband saved my life.” “Yes, he will,” sounded another voice. It was the surgeon. “Is this Elise?” he asked, looking right at her. Seeing the nod, he began, “One bullet caught his left shoulder, shattering the collarbone. Not life-threatening but eventually the bone will need a second surgery. I put a titanium rod in place as a temporary stabilizer. It will help with his movement and pain until the second operation. The second round caught his lowest rib on the right side. Fortunately for him, the bullets were small caliber. The second bullet caromed off his rib and landed near his spine. Mr. Monroe had Lady Luck watching over him. The bullet missed his spinal cord, nicked a vertebra, and punctured an artery. It took several pints of blood and three hours of operating time to repair the damage. I understand he works for the FBI?” Tearfully, Elise nodded. “He’s a lucky guy. Your husband will live to fight another day.” Elise Monroe was exhausted. “I need to tell the kids. When can we see him?” she asked.

“Less than an hour, I promise,” answered the doctor. After Abron had taken a moment with Isabel, Deputies Domenico, Hollander, O’Neal, and Captain Saunders entered Abron’s room. “We recovered all the information and weapons the two of you found. Can you ever leave a live witness?” asked Saunders. “One got away. He was firing an AK-47.” O’Neal looked at Domenico and asked, “Do you want to tell him?” Sal told the story, “You fired off three rounds. All three hit their mark. One shot went through his brain.” Without another word on the subject, Deputy Kelsey said, “Take the many names in the ledger and logbook, compare them with Larisa’s notes and McCallen’s testimony. Take the Smith and Wesson to ballistics. Johnny said it was the gun that put the final bullet in Nile Rivers’s head.” “Captain Saunders, we need to put my wife and Monroe’s family back into that safehouse,” Kelsey spoke again. “Nobody knew we were flying Into Libby and when we would arrive. There is a second person involved within the bureau, or someone along our flight path yesterday sounded an alarm.” “You need to rest and get through this as quickly as possible,” stated Saunders. Talking circles, the drugged Kelsey said again, “Cap, nobody knew we were flying yesterday. We made no s. Jake never filed a flight plan from Salt Lake to Libby. Someone is still pulling strings from Chicago. There has to be another FBI boss above Jake in on this. They will strike again, I promise you.” “Deputy,” began the captain. “Rest. I and your posse pals will handle the safety of your families until you’re home. The bureau has internal affairs working overtime. The FBI is the best at what they do. The infiltrator will be found in hours. You and Jake will remain here until you can both be airlifted to Spokane. Your Glock is within reach. The hospital okayed it because of the danger at hand. Try not to kill anybody while you’re here.” “See you two back at the office. If not before.”

Deputies Sal Domenico and Terry Hollander would remain for three nights to protect Elise and kids while Jake was mending. Isabel was taken home that same night to the guarded safehouse.

Chapter 75

Saunders’ Surprise

Captain Shawn Saunders made a move no one was expecting or could see coming. Working with a federal judge, not involving the FBI or any law enforcement personnel within his jurisdiction or the DA, Saunders began his coup of prisoners, teaming Deputies Jim O’Neal and Robert Foster together then combining Ron Rowe and Sal Domenico. They all struck at the same time. O’Neal and Foster transported Bryce McCallen from the local jailhouse to a sheriff’s department holding cell. Ron and Sal picked up former deputy, Tony Bara, and former assistant DA, Cynthia Berdot, from the jails they were in and transported them to the same holding cells in Spokane that Bryce was in. Saunders, with the help of Link Mathias, scooped up Diesel Hart and brought him to Spokane. Extra deputies were put on a suicide-watch schedule over all four of the new guests.

Chapter 76

Back East

Chicago, Illinois, the Windy City—home to over 2.7 million. Only New York and Los Angeles have greater populations. Chicago presents its citizens no less than eight professional sports teams—teams that have produced Super Bowl wins, World Series championships, Stanley Cups, NBA championships, and major soccer titles. Sitting on the edge of Lake Michigan, offering visitors the famous Chicago dog and Chicago-style delis and pizza available on or near many sidewalks, Buddy Guy’s Legends Blues Club brings thousands to the city annually. Landing at O’Hare or Midway, the entire city is found in two counties, Cook and DuPage. The FBI picked a Tuesday to begin their assault, raiding a dozen locations within city limits and several homes just outside. All arrests made that day involved union-labor advisors and organizers with ties to several states. “Racketeering” headed the many arrest warrants served. The bureau would add more specific charges once all persons indicted were in custody. Benito “Benny” Hogamier didn’t use his one phone call for an attorney. “The two of you need to disappear along with all our communications. Lose yourself and your families deep enough that I can’t find you!” threatened Benny. Many of the trials that ensued took up to five years before a verdict was handed down. Defendants from day one began burying evidence, including former associates. Willy Farnesi was the first to be bailed out, followed by Benny Hogamier.

Chapter 77

Berdot Squeals

Like ducks in a row with the deputies lying in wait to interrogate them all, former deputy lieutenant Tony Bara from the CDA sheriff’s office would be first. On trial for eight felony charges that included the killing of two deputies, his fate was all but sealed. Captain Saunders couldn’t offer time off for good behavior or “see the real world from the outside before you die.” Tony knew that. Saunders did have a couple of perks that would ease a long life in prison. Bara recognized the captain immediately. Thankful that his interrogator wasn’t Abron Kelsey, Bara relaxed. “Do you know why I’m here?” asked Shawn. Bara knew he had lost all freedoms and wasn’t in a talking mood. “Not a clue,” he answered. “You have knowledge and a name or names that could be used to leverage Cynthia Berdot. That simple.” Bara was silent. “I can get you into a federal prison that will keep you safe, allow weekly visits from your boyfriend, put a TV in your room, along with a private bathroom.” Saunders could see the wheels turning. Shawn went silent, giving Tony all the time he needed to weigh the consequences of his answer. Bara was about to respond when Shawn said, “I have a second offer—cyanide. You won’t know when or where it will happen.” Bara’s expression told a story. Kelsey was right, illegal but spot-on, thought the Captain.

“If I give you names, will I live long enough to see your offer come true?” asked Tony. Shawn handed him three forms to sign and said, “Look these over.” “You’re up,” said the captain. “Here’s a list. More thorough than we expected,” he said, handing the list to Kelsey. Diesel Hart was again under the gun. Boot Brace was not as intimidated by Abron as Bryce or Dillon, having only faced him once in a physical battle. That incident ended before it began with Abron. A cross-body block and a kick to the head left Hart unconscious in the withering apple grove until paramedics arrived. “Hart, your partner didn’t make it. Mason died of a broken neck. Must have been how he landed in the ditch. It was an ugly fall. I think I heard a snap, like a breaking bone. His death was quick and painless.” “What do you want?” snarled Diesel. Kelsey replied, “A name.” “We already have a deal, why should I give you more?” Abron knew he would win this battle. Boot Brace had given the response the deputy was looking for too quickly. Deputy Kelsey emerged with a piece of notepad paper, saying, “Some matching what we have, but Hart gave us a couple of new names.” Then Kelsey asked his captain, “What would you think of letting Ron Rowe talk to Berdot if he has recovered enough?” Kelsey told the story to Saunders about the long-running dislikes between Cynthia and Ron. Call placed. Vale answered. She drove Ron to the jail within the hour. Isabel was waiting and offered to buy Vale eggplant parmesan at Agostino’s. Izzy knew the two deputies needed a couple of hours. Deputy Rowe would need time to absorb everything Shawn and Abron had prepared before he interrogated the former assistant district attorney. Still sore and slightly bent over, Ron had renewed vigor when he heard the part he would play with the former ADA.

“Her hate for Ron will work against her better judgment,” noted Abron. Cynthia had also taken a plea bargain from the DA. Kelsey had spotlighted the deal to Saunders and agent Monroe before Jake’s injuries. Captain Saunders, after hearing Abron’s questions, said, “Yes, a little odd? Doesn’t sound like a Donnie Webb plea deal.” “Oh my god,” Cynthia spoke loudly then uttered quietly, “I heard you were dead. What a disappointment to see your face.” Deputy Rowe was looking down on Berdot with pity. “You were how old when you gave death sentences to your own rat’s nest?” he asked. Cynthia came to a fast boil. The captain and Abron had Berdot put in handcuffs and shackles, for effect, before Ron went in. “I heard your mom and dad are still alive. Late seventies, I think. After they die, who’s coming to visit you? That probably equates to another thirty or forty long, lonely years for you to enjoy being incarcerated. Maybe you can work for some of the ladies you prosecuted. I’m sure they’re looking forward to your legal advice.” When Cynthia Berdot began her day in a cell, she had no idea it could get any worse. Yanking first at the cuffs connected to the interrogation table then trying to kick out of her ankle restraints only caused her pain. “Cynthia, I would rather be shoveling cow shit on a ranch than listening to your ignorance.” Cynthia Berdot screamed, “Get this asshole out of here.” Ron Rowe began to grin. “Help, rape,” she yelled. Ron started to laugh at her and said, “Nobody can hear you.”

Her face was turning crimson. Rowe, for a moment, thought she might have a stroke. Ron began pushing harder. “I know you advised the mayor to buy the old Nelson property at Rose Lake. We also know some of the gold coins aren’t ed for. Possibly hidden at Rose Lake?” he asked. She began to listen. “Our team uncovered unnatural amounts of chemical waste in the waters near the Nelson and Carlson farms. Those wastes are the product of the local aluminum works. We have photographic evidence that you visited those farms, at different times, with the McCoys, Webbs, and our Mayor Lindley.” Bluntly Ron asked Cynthia, “Why did Bryce McCallen kill the McCoys and leave the Webbs, you, and the Lindleys alive?” It was a long leap. Cynthia bit. “Nobody was supposed to die. We were all going to make a lot of money funneled through the union. Then the professors showed up with untold millions in rare coins and gold. Everyone wanted a piece, including Bryce. The professors needed a way into the DA’s office. But they wanted no part of the union deal. That’s when Bryce used the McCoys to strike fear in all of us, and it worked. He and the Chavez brothers killed the McCoys using David’s strung-up and cut body to mimic the Nelson murders. Bryce ordered the bombing of the factory and Kelsey’s condo, making it seem as a labor-union message. The professors paid him several million in gold coins for the misdirection.” Berdot stopped talking abruptly, as if she just realized what she had done. When Ron came out of the interrogation room, Shawn said one word, “Wow.” Abron added, “We got it all.”

Chapter 78

Arrests

Deputies entered the courthouse building downtown Spokane with warrants and a show of force. The offices of the DA and the mayor were on different floors in the same building. Not in fear of any type of retaliation from the two, the assault team split to catch their targets at the same time. “Nobody home,” came the call. Saunders ordered his men to the DA and the mayor’s homes. Thirty minutes later, a call came in from both teams. “Nobody home.” The captain had a man on each of their boats moored in Lake Couer d’Alene. The POIs hadn’t been seen. The two had run. Captain Saunders stepped into the conference room to meet with his detectives. After telling about the no-shows, Abron spoke up, “That makes it easy.” Hollander added, “If we can find them.” Shawn gave them a quick update on the steps that had already been taken that morning. “We have their bank numbers with ATM printouts, showing both headed north across Lake Pend Oreille. Webb used the ATM at Sandpoint an hour before Lindley withdrew cash in Bonners Ferry. They were both able to get across the border before our alarm was given. The Mounties have been alerted in Cranbrook and Nelson. Unless our DA and mayor have hiding places in the woods, the two roads don’t offer many options.

Kelsey and O’Neal were headed for the interrogation room to talk with Bryce McCallen. Jim O’Neal presented the same pictures that Rowe confronted Berdot with, adding several more pictures from Chicago that put Bryce in the company of three different people that had just been arrested in the Chicago sting. Abron spoke, “Cynthia spun a tale for us yesterday afternoon that corroborates your testimony in two bombings, killing of the McCoys, and the hospital attack on me. Berdot also accused you of pulling the strings of the Chavez brothers’ every move, with the okay from two now-deceased professors.” Abron moved in for the kill. “She proved to us that you personally, with the help of the Chavez brothers, slaughtered the McCoys in their home.” “McCallen,” Kelsey went on, “which one of these three names is behind the recent attack and killing of Johnny Dawson and Daria Zarkova?” “We had a deal. I signed your papers,” Bryce said, stalling. Abron moved closer to McCallen and said, “We stole all your money. Took possession of both of your homes in Illinois and Florida. Your parents and your brother don’t know yet when or if their evictions will begin.” Bryce whispered, “I’m dead already. Who cares?” “The twins you left in your brother’s care,” Abron threatened. Bryce pointed at the name. “Alone?” asked O’Neal. McCallen nodded.

Chapter 79

Chicago

The headlines read:

Spokane Mayor Mason Lindley shot to death on Ferry to Nelson B.C. District Attorney Don Webb found dead at a motel in Nelson, the same day. Webb’s death listed as suicide.

Agent Jake Monroe was now in the safehouse with his family and Izzy. Still bedridden but out of danger from his wounds, he was sitting up when talking to Abron on the phone. “He was bailed out, in Chicago. Leave him to the Bureau. Willy Farnesi won’t get away.” An hour later, Abron and Isabel were outside the safehouse in a sheriff’s department SUV. “I love you, Izzy, but I have to see this through.” “I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, tears starting to flow. “Isabel, you’re not pregnant. Don’t use that tactic. I’ve been watching your almost-daily pregnancy tests.” “Abron, something’s going to happen to you, and I will never be able to have our children.” As Abron was leaving Izzy, with the sound of sorrow and begging in her voice, gave in. “Please come home to me when it’s over.”

“Izzy, I need a three-hour head start. Promise me that?” She nodded then went to her room. Two hours and fifty-nine minutes later, Isabel Kelsey called Tammy who, in turn, called Greta who called Elise. “She said what?” asked Jake. “Abron told her he had to finish this, or no one would be safe. He boarded a plane for Chicago over two hours ago.” “Son of a buck, I knew he wouldn’t sit still.” Jake immediately called FBI headquarters in Chicago. After explaining and giving orders at the same time, he hung up and booked the next flight to Chicago. Weak and still medicated, Monroe was helped onto the plane by Shawn’s deputies. On the way to the airport, Monroe again queried his bureau partners via cell phone. “No, Jake, he never left Chicago. We have eyes on Willy now.” Jake then gave an update, “I’m boarding now, ETA four hours and forty-five minutes.”

Chapter 80

Willy and Benny

Deplaning, walking through the enclosed ramp to the terminal, Deputy Kelsey spotted them presenting a friendly front to the agents as they escorted him to a waiting room. “Thought I’d get a head start on Agent Monroe,” said Kelsey. Fifteen minutes in, one of the agents took a bathroom break. Opening the door to let himself back into the waiting room, Kelsey put him gently to sleep alongside the other agent. Benny Hogamier and Willy Farnesi shared a motto that guided their rise to the top of their separate syndicates: “What’s done is dead.” The two had eyes and muscle everywhere they held territory. Farnesi knew he could kill anybody anytime it was necessary, lately an almost-daily occurrence since Deputy Abron Kelsey and Agent Jake Monroe began tampering in his affairs. Knowing the charges against him were pushing toward a long prison sentence, Willy began silencing everybody outside Chicago that could connect him to Northwest labor unions. Two years earlier, Abron was back and forth to Chicago half a dozen times, representing the Spokane sheriff’s office, coordinating efforts between the FBI and Captain Saunders’s concerns out west. Wary and restless when in the windy city, Abron spent time looking for ways to put his hands on all things illegal while gaining knowledge of the lay of the land. Back in Chicago for the first time in almost two years, Deputy Abron Kelsey began to move. Taking the bus downtown, he recognized an alleyway door he entered two years earlier. The arms salesman ed Kelsey. In his gym bag he stowed away a Micro Draco with three thirty-round clips. Kelsey then bought a backup Glock 34 with silencer and three seventeen-round clips. The seller offered several stun grenades. Kelsey took them all. The deputy checked his watch and thought, Ninety minutes before Jake’s plane lands. Time to go to work. The bureau had surveillance outside the building and seated in the lobby of Willy’s high-rise

condo complex. Paying for a favor, the teenage laundry worker let Abron in off the alleyway. Promising the kid another payday if he forgot about Kelsey’s entrance, they both went different directions. Knowing he couldn’t do anything in the building without ending up in jail, Abron waited in the parking garage. Dinnertime, Willie needed to eat. The first one out of the elevator was female. Next time the door opened into the underground parking lot, a tough guy in a suit emerged, unlocking the limo door with his remote entry key. Kelsey was on him. The masked deputy had blacked out the surveillance cameras aimed at the elevator. The driver woke to a gun in his face, arms and legs subdued, in the backseat of the limousine. “I need to know where Farnesi’s at. How many guards are watching over him? Is he leaving this building? If so, when?” stated Kelsey. “Not a part of this,” the guy answered. Kelsey produced a knife. “Two with him, another outside the door, and one at the elevator,” said the driver. Abron asked, “Is he leaving soon?” “No,” said the tough. Kelsey produced a stun grenade from his duffel bag, hooking it into the headliner in the middle of the car. Then he slipped a blasting cap attached to a digital watch on the safety mechanism of the grenade. His captor tried but couldn’t move his hands or legs. “If you lied to me in any way, I won’t neutralize the explosive. You have sixteen minutes of life left. Say your prayers.” “Wait,” he shouted, “I lied. Willie’s leaving in fifteen minutes. He’s going to a dinner meeting with the Baraglias and Hogamiers.” “How many with him?” asked Kelsey. “Myself and two bodyguards.” In an instant the deputy thought, “Lady luck is on my side. All three together.”

Abron loaded the driver into the trunk, setting the explosive device on the floor in front of his eyes. “Not a word or a movement. When this is over, you can go home to your loved ones.” When the elevator door opened, the occupants were staring at the muzzle of an automatic pistol in the hands of a masked man. “Get down, all of you,” Abron commanded. One didn’t take his orders seriously. Abron produced his new Glock and shot him in the ankle. Screaming in pain, he went down. Willie and the other bodyguard were wide-eyed. Abron ignored the screaming, zip-tying hands behind their backs and ankles together within seconds. Putting a knife blade to Willie’s throat, he forced Farnesi into the front seat of the limo, handcuffing him to the door . Kelsey went back to the elevator and slammed a lead-filled leather sap into the screamer’s nose and forehead, pulling the limp body into the doorway of the elevator. Time to go, he thought. Jake Monroe had three SUVs waiting for him at the airport. Racing through the streets to Willie’s condo, his cell rang with the news that two of Farnesi’s bodyguards were found in a stuck elevator. “Abron has Willie,” he told his fellow agents. Thirty minutes later, Jake’s cell was buzzing. A man’s voice said, “Willie’s at 2384 Diamond, back room. Better hurry. Be warned, arrive quietly.” Kelsey pulled up to an apartment complex three miles away from the Diamond street address. “Thanks for your help,” he told the driver. “I will find you and castrate you if anything from tonight leaks, other than your time in the trunk.” The man nodded.

The agents closed in on the front and back doors of the bar and grill. Orders given, they burst through both doors simultaneously. Patrons in the bar and grill were ordered to put hands where they could be seen by the FBI. A dozen gunshots rang out in the back room. Six hours had ed before all six bodies were identified and taken to the morgue: three bodyguards, Willy Farnesi, Hogamier, and Baraglia. A package had been delivered to the Chicago bureau office sometime during the night. Agent Jake Monroe called off the search for Deputy Kelsey. Abron was in the arms of his Isabel after a four-hour and forty-five-minute flight. The couple were ionately making up for lost time.

Chapter 81

Bureau Versus Sheriff

Both Shawn Saunders and Jake Monroe were in a heated conference call with FBI headquarters in Washington, DC, pointing to the results of that night in Chicago. “He did more in a couple of hours than your bureau did in five years,” commented Saunders. Jake Monroe backed him up, “Our agents at the airport said they never found him. Video backs their statements.” “Willie Farnesi was being tortured when the agents broke into the backroom of the bar and returned fire.” Bad blood between Farnesi, Hogamier, and Baraglia ran deep. The package Abron Kelsey left at the bureau that night detailed the hate between the three different syndicate heads killed in the shootout. Farnesi was shot in the head just as the FBI was entering. When the room quieted, smoke in the air, Baraglia’s dead hand was still holding the Farnesi homicide weapon while his body laid prone on the tile floor. Hogamier and his shadow never made it inside the back room. They were slain in their car before they could enter. Ballistics later would match Hogamier’s death to Baraglia’s bodyguards. All three of the deceased were under federal indictment. “We will make sure Deputy Kelsey is available for questioning anytime he is needed by the bureau,” said Saunders. Jake Monroe added, “Kelsey killed no one here in Chicago. If he is suspended, it would do a great injustice to the Spokane sheriff’s department and Captain Saunders’s fight against crime.”

Chapter 82

Back to Normal?

It had taken four months of paid suspension before Abron Kelsey was back to work. The city of Spokane had appointed a temporary district attorney. The next in command was moved into the mayor’s office. CDA Captain June Croop and Shawn Saunders had installed several safeguards within and between the Washington and Idaho departments—safeguards that would help prevent disenchanted deputies from straying. Former Detective Tony Bara, former assistant DA Cynthia Berdot, and Diesel Hart, known as Boot Brace, were serving long sentences in federal prison. The bunco gals added Marsha Saunders and Elise Monroe to their regular twelve players after two of the original moved to Seattle. Isabel Kelsey’s turn to host the event was scheduled this month. The bunco ladies hadn’t a clue whether Isabel could cook or not. The overlying thought was generally that “Izzy will surprise us all.” The Kelseys were having breakfast at the little café around the corner from their former condo. Joan, the longtime waitress, brought the avocado, wimpy bacon, and cheddar-cheese omelets to their table. As she was pouring coffee, Abron asked, “Did you see the new Magnum in Bad Moms?” “Does a chicken have lips?” she said, stealing the line from Abron. “But hey, I still miss the real Magnum, just caught a funny one of his called Her Alibi.” While enjoying the spring morning at the café, Izzy produced a notepad and handed it to Abron. Kelsey seemed stumped. “You know I have a tendency to crunch numbers,” Isabel itted.

“What do they mean?” asked Abron. Izzy laid her cards on the table, saying, “I’ve gone through every piece of information available about that train robbery in Butte back in 1890. I compared that to what I had learned from Professors Wood and Laskowski. The stolen booty included 300 of those rare gold coins and 300-plus pounds of unrefined gold nuggets. Unless you know of more, there are still 140 coins and at least 120 pounds of gold nuggets floating around somewhere.” Abron was silent. Isabel knew she had caught him off guard. “Are you sure?” he asked. “That tally includes Hong Kong, San Bernardino, and Clarkston. Plus, coins and gold bars found in Idaho, Washington, and Montana.” Abron knew about Isabel’s ability to research, find, and categorize numbers. Along with her reading of faces and foretelling outcomes, Abron would put some thought into her work. “What are you fixing for the Bunco ladies?” he asked. “I don’t dare serve Italian. Tammy and her parents own that cuisine. Veronica knocks it out of the park with her Mexican dishes, along with those delicious salsas and guacamole. I don’t think anyone has served thick pork loin chops, Monterey style, stuffed with Mom’s chunky peanut sauce.” “Can you make sure there’re leftovers?” asked Abron. Then he added, “Dessert?” “Pineapple upside-down cake with extra butter and brown sugar. I’ll top it off with French vanilla ice cream, if you can stay out of it until after they’ve left.” Abron was all in with the ideas Izzy presented. Isabel’s husband had a whimsically odd look on his face. “All right, what gives?” she asked him. “Isn’t your bunco group discriminating, not allowing your male husbands to attend?”

“Yes,” she said with force. “Ah, come on, Izzy, can we just for dinner?” “No,” she said emphatically. Then to Abron’s delight, she whispered, “I have a special dessert planned for you and you alone after we’re alone that night.

Chapter 83

The Posse

The posse was at the Davenport Lounge the night their wives were playing bunco. “Isabel hammered out some figures for us concerning missing gold and coins from back when we were investigating the Nelsons and the Rose lake killings. Check out this one sheet of her work.” Deputy Hollander whistled under his breath. Ron Rowe stated, “No way.” Agent Monroe added, “The bureau came up with close to the same figures. As long as these figures aren’t released to the public, our area should escape treasure hunters and all the problems that they bring.” “Do those figures include the offshore s that were found during the investigations?” asked Domenico. Jake added, “We found several other s in the Caribbean that aren’t on Isabel’s list. Even with those tallies, they don’t make much of a dent in the missing coins and gold.” It was Deputy O’Neal that would start a preliminary investigation concerning the missing booty. “The professors had sisters and brothers.” Abron ended the evening by stating, “All of the criminals involved with the Triple Double era have relatives that could be in question. It’s a staggering amount of money that will breed temptations in even the purest of our neighbors. Our double triple case is finally solved, and the families of the six bodies were given closure. But for now, I’ve got to run. Isabel has dessert waiting for me at home.”

His quick departure caused smiles to form on several of the deputies’ faces.

Chapter 84

Dillon Never Sleeps

“I love the view of the city,” commented Isabel. She and Abron were house-hunting, recently turning down an offer to work for the FBI. It was time to settle in and begin taking the idea of children seriously. All four parents involved with Izzy and Abron were starting to drop hints about their friends’ grandkids. They found a place that they liked and could afford on the bluff to the south of the city. After the second walk-through in a week, the couple made an offer on the house. Walking to their car, both in a giddy mood, Abron’s cellphone chimed. “Kelsey,” he announced. Abron stopped. Izzy was reading his facial expressions and body posture. “When?’ he asked. “I’ll be in early tomorrow, Cap,” promised Kelsey. “It’s bad,” said Izzy. “I hope it’s not your mom or dad?” “The impossible has happened,” said Abron. “Dillon Robinson has escaped.” “Should I worry?” asked Isabel. “We all should worry,” he stated.

Prologue

Book 3: The Agent and the deputy

In the 1890s a train was robbed of gold and precious gold coins that led to three double murders in the twenty-first century. In the 1970s the bodies of a disc jockey and five ladies of the night were discovered: three bodies in Liberty Lake.; three in Lake Couer d’Alene. With all those cases solved, millions of dollars in gold and rare gold coins were still uned for. The one person thought to have the greatest knowledge of the missing fortune was Dillon Robinson. Dillon, the cold-blooded murderer, is now on the loose after escaping from his prison-transfer vehicle between Orofino and Pelican Bay federal penitentiary. Robinson is determined to avenge the persons responsible for his scarred face and lifetime sentence. Finding and killing the FBI agent and the Spokane deputy are his only reasons for living.

James Lewis Captured by Mason Landen

John and Cathy Kamburoff with their Piper Camanche and Citabria Captured by Mason Landen

About the Author

James Lewis was born in Seattle Washington, King County. He is a USMC honorable. He attended La Mirada High school, La Mirada, California, studied at Cerritos College, Orange County, California, and at Cochise College, Douglas, Arizona. He graduated from Don Martin School of Radio & TV Arts & Sciences in Hollywood and earned his private pilot license in 1973. James Lewis has six children and twelve grandchildren. He writes beneath the peaks of Mt. San Jacinto and Tahquitz in Southern California.

[email protected]

Other books: Triple Double and The agent and the deputy (Late fall 2001)