Read Bitter Crossing (A Peyton Cote Novel) Online
Authors: D. A. Keeley
Tags: #Mystery, #murder, #border patrol, #smugglers, #agents, #Maine
Bitter Crossing (A Peyton Cote Novel) (40 page)
“How was the meeting with ICE officials?” Hewitt said.
“Tough,” Smith said.
“Long,” Peyton said. “All along,” she said to Smith, “I thought you were the one on the inside.”
“And I was looking at you, too.”
“Would’ve been easier,” Hewitt said, “if I’d told you Pam Morrison was the one pushing the shooting investigation. But I couldn’t do that. You understand that, I hope.”
“To a degree.”
“Peyton, I can show you the documentation. She said you busted Kenny Radke on the border and were blackmailing him to use him as an informant. We were looking into that accusation when you shot him.”
She looked away. “That was true, Mike.”
“What?”
“I caught him with a dime bag and turned him. That wasn’t why I killed him. And that wasn’t why he shot at me. He was trafficking babies and didn’t want to go back to Warren.”
“I know that,” Hewitt said, “but I wish to hell you hadn’t told me the rest of it.”
“I won’t lie to you,” Peyton said.
“Let’s change the subject,” Smith said. “Mike told me about Pam’s accusations. I started looking into them.”
“That’s how you followed us. That was you in the black pickup?”
He smiled. “I’d been looking for an excuse to get a new truck.”
Linda Cyr entered the room with a sandwich platter and set it on Hewitt’s desk. “Here you go,” she said, leaned forward, and kissed each agent.
“Thanks, Mom,” Smith said teasingly.
“You’re welcome.”
They ate in silence for a while.
Peyton sighed. “All she wanted was a baby.”
“Quite a way to get one,” Hewitt said. “According to Morris Picard, who literally pissed himself on the cabin floor, they did this for several years.”
“What happens to the kids?” Peyton asked.
“Someone at the federal level will look for them and try to return them to their families in England.”
“They don’t have families. That was the point—they were or-
phans.”
“Jesus, Peyton, after all you’ve been through, you’re not siding with McAfee on this, are you?”
“No. But it isn’t black-and-white, Mike. Where’s Autumn?”
“On a flight back here from New Mexico.”
“You found her?”
He nodded.
“Is she going to DHHS?”
“I guess so. We can’t find Celia, and we probably won’t, if she doesn’t want to be found.”
“She might’ve realized just how unstable Jonathan was,” Peyton said, “and took off. My mother said he had ‘crazy eyes.’ I always thought he was mean. Now I wonder if his problems ran deeper than that.”
“He was a convicted drug dealer,” Hewitt said.
“You need to speak to Elise, Mike. She wants the baby. She’ll be calling you.”
“Really?” Smith said. “The baby from her late husband’s affair?”
“That’s right.”
Hewitt leaned forward. “And what if Celia shows up and wants her back? Your sister could take this infant in, raise her for five years, and lose her if Celia shows up.”
“She knows that. Wants to help the baby. And she has some claim to Autumn.”
“Technically, she’s the stepmother,” Hewitt said. “We’ll get Susan Perry involved.” He looked at his watch. “Not much of a dinner, but it’s been a long day. Go home.”
Outside, the night sky was overcast, and Peyton’s breath came in puffs, but there was no snow in the forecast.
“Hey, Peyton,” Smith said.
She was reaching for the Wrangler door and turned back.
“Have plans tonight?”
“Got a date tonight,” she said. “Big date. He’s quite a catch. You’ve seen him play soccer.”
Smith smiled. “Get out of here and enjoy your night.”
“You too,” she said.
When she got home, Elise and Lois met her at the door. She assured them she was fine and climbed the stairs to Tommy’s room.
The twin mattress was small, but she found room and lay beside him, wrapping her arm around him. She couldn’t help herself. She gave him a gentle squeeze.
“Mom?” His eyes blinked open.
“Do you know you have a mother who loves you?”
“Yes, Mom. How come you woke me up? You say it all the time.”
She rolled onto her back. “And probably not enough,” she said and closed her eyes.
About the Author
D.A. Keeley (United States) has published widely in the crime-fiction genre and is the author of six other novels, as well as short stories and essays. In addition to being a teacher and department chair at a boarding school and a member of the Mystery Writers of America, Keeley writes a biweekly post for the blog
Type M for Murder.
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