E
lla arrived at Teeny’s truck thirty minutes later. The simple truth was that she had to start rattling some people real hard or Agent Thomas was as good as dead.
Ella briefed Teeny quickly, then they went up to the porch together, ready to set her plan into motion. Teeny knocked, and his fist reminded her of a battering ram. The door actually shook under the impact.
“Open up,
Melvin, or we’ll break the door down,” Teeny called out cheerfully.
Melvin came to the door a second later, opening it wide enough for even the big man to enter. “Jeez, man. It takes a few seconds to cross the room, you know.”
Ella strolled in and made herself comfortable on the sofa, and Rainwater forced himself down uneasily onto a recliner. Teeny remained standing, taking a position close
enough to grab their suspect if he made a sudden move. “Relax. I’m here to give you some good news, Melvin. You’re going to be off the hook, finally, at least concerning Special Agent Thomas.”
“Yeah?” His expression brightened considerably and he leaned forward.
She waited, taking her time before enlightening him. Seeing Melvin almost squirming, she finally continued. “We received a very short
phone call from Agent Thomas the day all this began.
We kept that piece of information under wraps until now because his cell phone lost battery power during his call and the information we had was sketchy. But now, through Homeland Security channels, we’ve managed to borrow some special equipment. It’s the same stuff they use to track cell phone conversations and locations of terrorist groups
in the Middle East and Asia. This state-of-the-art hardware is able to electronically activate the GPS chip in his cell phone and get a return signal despite the fact that the battery has run down. We’ll be able to triangulate Thomas’s location—that of his phone, actually—and track him down within an hour or so.”
Melvin leaned back, trying to look casual but having a hard time of it. “The Rez
is a large place and cell phone signals get blocked all the time. How did the techno-geeks get around that?”
Ella shook her head. “I can’t go into details—that’s classified—and I’d probably screw up the technical explanation anyway. But I can tell you that they’re using satellites and the whole nine yards, so no mountains or canyons will be in the way. Not from a hundred miles or whatever overhead.”
“So since you know that he’s still alive, I’m officially off the hook?” Melvin actually stretched and managed a bored yawn.
“Not exactly. Providing Agent Thomas is still alive when we find him, he’ll be able to tell us exactly what happened, and that should clear you—if you’ve played it straight with us. If that’s the case, you won’t be facing kidnapping charges.”
Melvin sat up again. “Then
find him fast, will you? I want you two out of my hair permanently.”
“Aw, gee, Melvin, you disappoint me,” Ella said. “And here I thought you liked us.”
Teeny and Ella left the house and as soon as she was sure they were out of earshot, Ella spoke. “He’s such a bad actor, pretending his innocence. I saw my pen sitting on his desk. Keep monitoring him, Teeny.”
When they reached the van, Teeny
glanced at the small recorder he had attached to the pen monitoring receiver. The
device was sound activated, and a white light indicated that it was recording. Currently only the green light was on.
“You think he’ll alert the others and lead you to Agent Thomas?” Teeny asked.
“That’s what I’m hoping,” Ella said.
“He bought your techno-speak, and you did a pretty good job of tying together
fiction and reality. The intelligence community is pretty close to doing just what you described. There are chips in just about everything these days, including FBI cell phones. The only problem is that the chips run on battery power, and if the battery is dead, or the cell phone is shielded or underground …”
“I get it. Well, let’s see what he does next,” Ella said.
Her cell phone rang, and
Ella picked it up. Her heart almost stopped when she recognized Greg Simmons’s voice. “Clah, it’s me, Simmons. I’m driving through from Flagstaff, and should be in Shiprock by midnight. Any news from your end?”
Ella thought about it for a moment. She had to make sure nothing was said that would disrupt Simmons’s plans. She had to catch him with his hands dirty—before he got to Andy Thomas.
“You deaf, Clah?” Simmons’s grumbled.
“No, sorry, I was going to tell you that the body of the red-haired man we found—minus his head—isn’t Agent Thomas. We’re still checking out the people from the Sing he interrupted. That’s our best lead right now.”
“Sounds like you and your tribal cops are still chasing smoke. Listen, Clah, if you don’t find our agent or his body by daylight tomorrow, I’m
calling in the calvary. By noon, every back road in the Four Corners will have a carful of feds. Pass that on to Big Ed Atcitty for me.” He hung up.
“Jackass,” Ella mumbled, then looked up to see Teeny’s curious expression. Holding up her hand to assure him she’d fill him in soon, she called Justine immediately.
“Simmons is driving back from Arizona, but doesn’t expect to arrive here before
midnight. He says he’s going to give us another eight hours to find Simmons before the feds take over.” Ella glanced at Teeny, who nodded.
“What do you want me to do?” Justine asked.
“Get to Farmington and stake out Betsy Weaver’s place. My guess is Simmons will go there. Krause knows he’s under suspicion and probably has advised his partner to avoid being seen with him, and Simmons has to
know we’re onto Melvin. Just keep your distance, cuz, we don’t want to tip anyone off or Andy Thomas will lose big-time. Use the cell phone to contact me or our people. Simmons, once he’s within range, will have access to their radio frequencies. And let me know if you spot any of our players.” Ella ended the call.
After bringing Teeny up to speed on what he hadn’t managed to infer, Ella said
good-bye and got into her unit. Justine whizzed by in her car, heading east, and Ella waved. She, in turn, headed west, toward Shiprock.
Fifteen minutes later, while stopped for gas in downtown Shiprock, Ella’s cell phone rang. She stepped away from the pumps to take the call.
“He’s here!” Justine whispered.
“Simmons? In Farmington already?” Ella whispered back.
“Yeah. He lied to you, boss.
Not five minutes after I arrived at Betsy Weaver’s apartment complex Simmons pulled up. He parked his car right in front of her door. Betsy, or a person who fits the description you gave me, let him in. She’s got shorter hair now, though, and may have put on a few more pounds. And Simmons had a purposeful walk, not one of those ‘I’m bad’ shuffles—if that matters.”
“It might. Stay low but keep
an eye on the place and don’t let him slip away. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
Knowing she was still out of her jurisdiction, and things would get really complicated if she had to make a move, Ella called Sheriff Taylor again as she sped back east toward Farmington.
“I’ve got a sticky situation here, Paul,” she explained, “and I need your help.” She gave him a brief rundown. “If I’m right
and Simmons is dirty, the fact that he’s running the show puts us at a dear disadvantage. We just don’t know for sure who else might be
in on his operation, or if he has any snitches that could blow the whistle on us.”
“So what’s your plan, Ella?”
“For now, I’m waiting at the Weaver apartment to see what course of action he takes. I’ll call you the second something happens.”
“Do that. I have
a feeling we’re going to be up to our necks in feds, regulations, and recriminations before this is over. I just hope we can find Agent Thomas alive, or we’re all going to make the national news.”
Waiting was the most difficult thing to do, knowing that every hour placed Andy Thomas even closer to death—from injuries, thirst, or a half dozen other possibilities a fertile mind could generate.
Ella had parked down the street from Betsy Weaver’s apartment, not wanting to have two police units, even unmarked ones, that close to their quarry. She’d contacted Big Ed and briefed him, and been able to continue directing some of the logistics of the field search via telephone, but Simmons and Betsy seemed to be the key. Rainwater and Krause were covered and the only thing required from Ella
now was patience. It was going to be hell—patience was highly overrated, but at least she had time to switch to a fresh cell phone battery.
It was after dark when Justine finally called her with the news. “Something’s finally going down. Simmons is still inside the apartment but Betsy’s pulling out now in a blue four-door sedan. She had a briefcase with her and was acting as jumpy as you can
get. Something tells me she’s going to make a delivery.”
“Okay. Stay with Simmons, Justine, I’ll pick Betsy up after she goes by. Just in case I have to tail her on foot, what’s she wearing?”
“A dark blue jacket, slacks, and a red blouse.”
Staying well behind the woman’s car, but keeping the taillights in sight, Ella followed while she got Sheriff Taylor on the phone. “I want to bring this
woman in for questioning
after
we see what she’s up to with that briefcase. But I need to keep Simmons
in the dark. I’d like Betsy to just disappear for a while and let Simmons worry about it.”
“Where’s the Weaver woman headed now?” Taylor asked.
Ella followed her vehicle a while longer, giving general directions as the woman drove west down a major Farmington street. “She’s slowing and getting
into the left lane. The west-side mall is just ahead.”
She paused, waited a minute and watched, then confirmed it to Taylor. “Yeah, I was right. She just pulled into the mall parking area and is cruising through the east lot. I’ll park close enough to be able to follow her on foot when she gets out and I’ll stay on the line. Every other person around here is on their cell phone anyway, so it
shouldn’t attract any attention.”
“Give me a description of the woman,” he asked, then listened as Ella gave him the details that Justine had reported, including the clothing and short hair. “Okay. I’ll back you up,” Taylor added. “I’ll be there in five. I’ll go into the mall from the north side.”
Betsy parked, then took the brown leather briefcase out of the passenger’s seat, glanced around
nervously like an amateur spy, then headed for the closest mall entrance. Ella gave her plenty of room, hanging back and blending into the gathering of early evening shoppers. The mall didn’t close until nine and there were plenty of people around.
Ella updated Sheriff Taylor as she stopped and pretended to be window shopping, telling him what Betsy was doing and where she was at. “Paul, I want
to stay with the briefcase, so I’d like you to focus on Betsy. As soon as she makes the drop, take her into custody.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Ella stayed as far back as she could, but always kept Betsy in sight, then Betsy stepped into the elevator. Since it only went up one floor, it was used mainly by handicapped people, the elderly, moms with strollers, and the extremely lazy. Not knowing if
Simmons had given Betsy her description, Ella decided to avoid the
elevator altogether. Instead, she raced up the stairs and caught up with the woman on the second floor.
Betsy stepped out between two men in business suits. A pregnant woman who’d also come out of the elevator stepped around Betsy, blocking Ella’s view momentarily. Ella moved aside quickly and saw Betsy leave the briefcase on
top of a
banco
provided for shoppers needing a seat, then walk away quickly.
Seeing Sheriff Taylor coming toward her in the center aisle, Ella pointed to Betsy, then hurried to get the briefcase. Ella opened it carefully in case it was booby-trapped, but when she looked inside all she saw were old copies of the
Denver
Post
, the
Albuquerque Journal
, and the local newspaper. Her stomach plummeted.
“We’ve been had,” she warned Taylor over the open line. “Keep Ms. Weaver in custody. I need to question her.” Ella checked the elevator for another briefcase, then remembered the businessmen who’d stepped out with Betsy. One had been carrying a briefcase, and she tried to remember what color it was.
She glanced around, but neither businessman was in sight. Quickly she called Justine and apprised
her of what had just happened.
“Simmons is leaving now,” Justine interrupted. “I’ll stay with him.”
“Good. I’m going to join Sheriff Taylor and see what we can get out of Betsy. Maybe he got a look at the businessmen that were on that elevator. I was so intent on Betsy, I never even checked out their faces.”
At the county lockup, Ella and Sheriff Taylor tried for a half hour to get Betsy
to reveal something that would lead them to Agent Thomas or incriminate the mortuary but Betsy was sullen and refused to cooperate. She wouldn’t even answer their questions about the elevator ride. Despite the outward bravado, Ella could sense that she was really scared.
Leaving her alone to brood for a while and bumping up the room temperature by cutting off the air conditioning, Ella stood
with Sheriff Taylor just outside the two-way mirror, waiting for the room to get uncomfortably stuffy. Ordinarily this interview room was pleasant, with a soothing light blue paint scheme and curtains on the window. The table and chairs matched. It was all designed to put a witness at ease.