Authors: Warren C Easley
Cal
Six months later
Spring in Oregon is more than anything else a celebration of light. After months of bullying by a gray, joyless cloud cover, the sun begins to assert itself again with more than just token gestures. Not that the rain isn't appreciated here. Without its abundance Oregon simply wouldn't be the place that it is, and we Oregonians get that. But the sun, the light in springâah, that's a welcome treat.
From my deck at the Aerie it seemed like you could see forever down the Willamette Valley, which stretched to the south between the Cascades and the Coastal Range, a patchwork quilt of greens, golds, and ochres. Closer in, a few hawks circled over the vineyards, where just a few moments earlier a bald eagle had graced us with a fly-by that allowed a clear view of its snow white cap and fierce yellow beak.
Tay, Kelly, and Nando had joined me for a cookout to celebrate the approval by DHS of Tay as Kelly's foster mom just the day before. I was busy barbecuing corn in the husk and a slab of Chinook salmon on a moist cedar plank, while Tay chopped veggies for a salad she was building. She was fascinated with cooking and had quickly mastered the handful of kitchen tricks I knew.
Nando was bringing us all up to date on Richie Truax's legal situation. “So, the man is looking at enough federal gun charges to keep him in jail the rest of his life.”
“Was anyone else in the ATF involved in the gun running?” I asked. It was something I hadn't heard anything about.
Nando shook his head. “No. What I am told is that Truax acted as a lone wolf when he set up the illegal operation with Arthur Finley. He had transferred up from San Diego, so he had a thorough knowledge of cartel activities and border security operations.”
“Motive?” I asked. The truth was, I knew very little about this man who had disgraced a proud law enforcement agency.
Nando opened his hands. “The usualâa penchant for expensive toys, speedboats, sports cars, fast women, all of which require money. Lots of it.” He waved a hand dismissively. “But jail time is the least of Truax's worries. I just learned his attempt to plea bargain the Rupert Youngblood murder to second degree was turned down by the DA. They're charging him with aggravated murder, which carries a mandatory death penalty. I am relieved. I thought they might let the bag of scum plea down.”
“Why would they do that?” Kelly snapped. “I mean, he bought back a letter claiming he killed Rupert.”
“That was a bit problematic for the prosecution,” I chimed in. “Truax could claim he paid Roz Jenkins for the letter to cover up his involvement in the gun running, that he had nothing to do with the murder.”
“But I identified his voice as the one I heard at the granary,” Kelly protested.
“True, and that put him at the scene,” I said, “but the defense would have come after you with a vengeance. The case against him was solid, but prosecutors are a worrying bunch and look for ways to avoid expensive trials.” I looked at Nando. “So what swung it?”
“Farnell Timmons,” Nando said. “Truax was scrupulously careful in hiding his involvement in the scheme, but two straw buyers gave sworn statements that Timmons had bragged to them about the Youngblood murder and Truax's direct participation in it.” Nando looked at me and smiled. “They were the two you referred to as Mutt and Jeff, I believe.”
“So much for honor among thieves,” Tay quipped. She sat on the deck, propped against the railing with Archie on one side of her and Spencer on the other. Her relationship with Kelly had blossomed, and it was an easy decision for DHS to sanction the foster care arrangement. They were both ecstatic with the outcome, although I had a feeling it would take some adjusting. An independent, headstrong kid used to the freedom of the streets and a tough, no-nonsense woman who had never experienced the exquisite joys of parenting. It promised to be interesting.
As promised, I took a look at going after the foster parent who had molested Kelly, but it turned out the man had died of a massive stroke six months prior. Frankly, I was relieved and I believe Kelly was, too. Call it poetic justice.
Zook was back from rehab, and the basketball was back on his hip. He passed all his GED exams except math, and if Kelly gets him over the hump and he stays clean he has a shot at a basketball scholarship at PSU for next season. Kiyana is finishing up at New Directions as well. The hearing to win her emancipation from her parents was a slam dunk. The judge remarked what a pleasure it was to see such a fine, independent young woman. She's applying for a paying internship at Intel and using me as a reference. I think she'll get it.
I never did get to talk to Veronica. Her cell number was no longer active. Kelly still held out hope that Veronica would get in touch, that she would decide to stop running. It was clear that she still loved her dad's girlfriend. Such are the workings of a pure heart.
As for me, I'm trying to spend more time in Dundee these days to get my law practice back to a paying proposition. Well, that and getting ready for a float trip on the Deschutes River to catch the upcoming salmon fly hatch. It promises to be a dandy. Claire is coming up from Berkeley to join me on the trip this year. I can't wait for her to meet Tay. I think they're going to like each other.
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