A Voice from the Field (23 page)

Kane leaned back, intrigued. “Then what?”

“Some calls got made. Feds started showing up along with a bunch of local cops. Next thing I know they put me on ice in the back of a squad car. That's when they all started arguing with each other. That Stahl, the one I told you about. The fed. He finally came around and took me out, gave me the story I was supposed to pass on to you.”

Tanner nodded toward the bag on the floor. “Gave me twenty grand. Told me to bring it back and get this thing done. Said we need to close the deal on the long guns. No more dicking around, he said.”

Kane nodded. “And once I take the hardware, the jig's up, right? They got me for conspiracy, possession, and intent to distribute. The whole damn thing.”

“Yeah, boss. Seems like they're ready to pounce, that's for sure.”

Gunther ignored him. “So they catch you red-handed, auctioning a woman off like cattle, but they let you walk so they can get to the promised land. Is that what you're telling me?”

Tanner shook his head, confused. “How's that?”

“Me, you dumb ass!” Kane shouted. “Me and the North Aryan Front.”

When all he got was a blank stare, Kane went on. “Don't you get it? The feds don't care about anything but dismantling the North Aryan Front. They see you boys as some kind of major players. Threat to the country. Jesus, if they only knew.”

Tanner shrugged. “All I know, boss, is they want to close this deal. Stahl don't seem to give two shits how we do it. And I can tell you. There ain't no love lost between Stahl and Suarez. He's got a real hard-on for her.”

“So it would seem.” Kane nodded, mentally laying out his options.

“Maybe we ought to rethink this,” Tanner said in a pleading tone. “You know, sit down and do the math. Hell, between the club and working the fields, we're up almost a hundred grand. Shit, boss, even the feds kicked up twenty g's. That's a pretty good stake. We can just disappear. Head back out to Cali. Pick off some youngsters and turn them out for some big money. We could do the hotel circuit in Vegas. There's money in this trade. And the risk is nothing.”

Kane said nothing, so Tanner kept going. “Think about it, Gunther. We don't need to be messing around buying guns and shit. The feds jump all over that sort of thing. Hell, we could be pimping out a dozen brown wets and nobody would give a shit.”

Kane shot back, “Now you want to walk away?”

Tanner shook his head and actually began to cry. “I just can't take it anymore, boss. Trying to stay one step ahead of the feds is taking years off my life.”

“I guess you should've given that some thought before you jumped in bed with the bastards and flipped over with your ass up in the air.” Tanner sobbed and Kane kept piling on, his voice filled with disgust. “What did you think, Jessup? They were going to make you a junior G-man? Welcome you into the family?”

“They had me by the balls, Gunther.” Tanner was pleading again and Kane rolled his eyes, already tired of it. “They were going to throw my ass in a federal prison for twenty years. Take every damn bit of land I have left. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“Stand tall, god damn it! That's what you're supposed to do.”

Tanner slumped in his chair and put his head in his hands.

Kane remembered how he'd discovered what was really going on. In a way, Suarez had done him a favor when she came to see him at the county jail. He'd already spent several nights thinking long and hard, trying to figure out how he was getting such a sweet deal. Suarez's visit had crystalized it for him.

She was right, he realized. Someone in the van that night must have had some high-level coverage, a powerful friend running blocker. Kane didn't figure it was the cargo they'd snatched up in San Diego and he sure as hell knew it wasn't him. That left one suspect.

It didn't take Kane long to get the truth out of Tanner. A lengthy and somewhat persuasive conversation, in the privacy of a well-stocked toolshed, convinced Tanner to give him the whole story. After that, it all fell into place. For the last two years, Tanner and the federal government had been playing Gunther Ulysses Kane for a fool. But now the worm had turned.

“So they're waiting for us to close the deal with Bell?”

“Hell yeah, boss,” Tanner said, dragging his sleeve against the snot that bubbled from his nose. “That's all this Stahl guy talks about. Wants to know what the plans are for the guns. How you're planning to distribute the hardware. He keeps asking me about what the big operation is. Stuff like that.”

“And what do you tell him?”

“I do just like you told me. I just act like I don't know much.”

Kane felt disgust as he looked at the sniveling wretch opposite him. “I imagine they bought that easy enough.”

Buster Cobb knocked once, then walked into the office. “He's here, boss.”

“Good,” Kane said. “You got it done, right, Buster?”

“Yeah, boss. Went real smooth.”

“Any problems?”

“Nope. I did just like you said. Showed up in one of them really nice tricked-out black SUVs. Said her old man was hurt. She didn't ask no questions.”

“Kids?” Kane asked.

“Told her to bring 'em. She was so upset she didn't think twice about it. Course, once it started getting ugly, she turned on us.” Cobb held up a handful of Polaroids and tossed them down on the desk. “I got 'em nearby, but we best get them tucked away pretty soon.”

Tanner sounded confused and desperate when he asked, “What's going on, Gunther? What's he talking about?” He leaned forward to look at the photographs.

“Atta boy, Buster.” Kane nodded to the bouncer, ignoring Tanner. “You pick a girl tonight and tell her I said it's on the house.”

“Thanks, boss.” Cobb smiled.

“Put Bell at the bar and tell him to wait. But that's all you tell him. You hear me?”

“Got it, boss.”

Cobb left, closing the door behind him. Tanner's face was etched in horrified confusion. “Who are these people?”

Kane reached out and slapped the man hard across the head. Tanner drew up his shoulders and cowered. “Jessup Tanner, it's like you really do have shit for brains. Have you not figured this out
yet
?”

When Tanner only stared back, Kane shook his head. “You're just the middleman, you dumb ass. Right from the start, they've been playing you harder than they have me.”

Tanner stared at the pictures and Kane thought somewhere deep in the man's limited intelligence the light finally started to flicker. He stood, grabbing Tanner by the scruff of the neck and pushing him toward the door. “Come with me, boy. It's showtime.”

 

TWENTY-NINE

Tia drove around the last bend of the long driveway, surprised to see the beat-up yellow pickup truck parked in front of the house. The morning sun had cleared the horizon and the skies had gone to a brilliant blue. She stepped from the car into a world washed clean by the previous night's hard rain. She dodged the mud puddles and moved to the porch where Connor waited, drinking coffee from a mug and reading the
Milwaukee Journal
sports page. He spoke from behind the paper without looking up.

“Says here the Packers might actually reach out for some free agents this year.” He shook his head. “Hope it's about shoring up the damn defense. A-Rod can't do it all.”

She ignored the topic. “I figured you would have taken off by now. Either that or be asleep.”

Connor looked at her over the top of his paper and shrugged. “You want me to leave? I can go.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” Tia had taken a quick shower at the PD and changed into clean clothes that she kept in her locker. Now she climbed the steps and leaned back against the porch railing. When she saw Connor waiting for her, the weight of the night finally began to lift. “I'm glad you're here.”

“I got your message. Thought I'd stick around. Make sure you were okay.” He looked her up and down. “You seem to be all in one piece.”

Once Tanner had identified himself as an informant, Tia had allowed him to make his phone call. A dozen federal agents descended on the field like something out of
Children of the Corn,
speedily followed by the sheriff's deputies. Quickly figuring out which way the wind was blowing, Tia had called her chief, then sent a brief text to Connor. She kept it purposely vague, saying something had come up and she'd be late.

She'd thought he'd go home, but he hadn't, and seeing him now gave her a sense of safety and belonging. She wanted to tell him about the night. She wanted to tell him everything. She didn't know how to begin. “Things got a little nuts.”

“How so?”

Everything she had been told at the briefing was classified, but in Tia's mind that didn't preclude her telling Connor. First, the man had a top-level security clearance from the U.S. government, and second, Tia reminded herself, she had made a commitment: she was done keeping things from Connor Anderson. She took a deep breath and started in.

“Jessup Tanner never showed up at the club. The deputy in charge of the surveillance asked me to swing by his house, see if his van was there. You know, so we could be fairly sure he was tucked away.”

“By yourself?”

She shrugged, trying to downplay it. “It was just supposed to be a drive-by.” Connor looked at her, waiting.

Tia began by telling him about finding the men in the shed and the hideous, gut-wrenching discovery of the auction. Then she took him through the rest of the night, including how she had learned the feds had been involved in a U/C operation the night she was attacked by Kane and Tanner. Connor didn't say a word while she unrolled the entire story.

When she fnished, he sat quietly for so long Tia wondered if she'd sent him over the edge. Eventually he took a long, deep, lung-filling breath and shook his head.

“So the deputy DA is actually a federal prosecutor?” Connor asked, and Tia nodded. “The feds watched the whole thing in Milwaukee?”

“Yeah. She's as bitchy as a fed as she was when I thought she was a DA. And her lapdog is this guy named Lester Stahl out of D.C. He's a piece of work, too.”

Connor looked out over the cornfield. “And now you've been in another shooting?”

“At least I was the one sending rounds downrange this time,” Tia said, striving for lightness.

“You're making jokes about this?” His voice was no-nonsense. “Two shootings in less than a year? You know they're going to come after you, right? Call you trigger-happy?”

“I didn't have a choice, Connor. I was in the middle of a rescue operation. The guy pulled a gun on me. What else could I do?”

“How about not get yourself in that kind of predicament to begin with? How about you take a cover officer with you?” With each question his voice got a little sharper, a little louder. “How about you tell the damn deputy to step up?”

“The feds don't seem that concerned about it, and Sawyer's got my back. The feds are more worried about keeping their operation under wraps. The guy I shot? Feds had dope history with him, some state-level soliciting. They acted all butt hurt about it, but I don't think they'll have a hard time making him disappear.”

“What about you?” Connor asked, sounding less angry, more worried.

There,
she thought.
That's the man I know.
She smiled. “I'm fine. I really am.”

He dismissed her response with a quick wave of his hand. “No. I don't mean ‘are you okay physically?' I can see that. I mean, when they check—you're good, right?”

Tia understood what he was asking. Was it a clean shoot? Was
she
clean? All things considered, she knew she had no right to be offended, but she couldn't help it. She was.

“Yeah, Connor. My BAC will be zero and I haven't had any meds in two days.”

Connor's relief showed clearly, but Tia could tell he was still angry. He sat up straight and kept asking questions—Tia felt like the conversation was halfway between a debrief and an interrogation. “What about this girl? She doesn't sound like the girl you saw in the van.”

Despite her vow to not hold back with Connor, Tia couldn't help cutting her answers short, as if she were talking to IA. “A stripper from the Roadhouse. The feds tried debriefing her, but she couldn't give them much. Pretty much just a pole dancer. They plan on putting her in some sort of witness protection program. Tuck her away until we need her.”

Tia turned her back to Connor and looked down the path; the metal of her family's trailer home gleamed in the morning sun. The sanctuary she'd felt when she'd realized he had waited for her had vanished. She couldn't wait for him to leave. He didn't really understand her, did he? She shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to telling him everything. To telling him about the voice that even now hummed somewhere quietly in her mind.

Without turning around, she spoke. Her voice was blank and revealed nothing other than a desire to be alone.

“Sorry to have kept you up. You didn't really need to wait for me. I'm going to grab a couple hours of sleep. Later, there's a briefing in Milwaukee about the planned takedown of Kane. I'm going.”

“Tia, you've been in a shooting, not to mention awake for two days. You can't be serious. You are not working tonight.”

“Sawyer already approved it,” she said, turning back to him at last. “A few hours of sleep, something to eat, and I'll be fine.” Her tone said,
Don't push me.

She could see Connor process the information. He folded the paper and set it on the side table, then double-checked the tightness of both prostheses. When he stood, a quick blast of pain crossed his face. He walked past Tia without another word, went down the steps and to his truck. Before he'd reached the vehicle, Tia had gone into the house, the screen door slamming behind her. She gave some thought to running back outside.
Don't let him leave,
she thought.
Not like this. Tell him. Tell him everything.