Complicated Matters (22 page)

   “Welcome to the Morgansville Sheriff’s Department Deputies Freeman and Rutherford. Most people around here just call me Taylor. But don’t let the lack of formality fool you, this department is top-notch. You’ve already been sworn in, so have a seat. I’m expecting someone else any second now.” 

   Taylor kept his eye on the lobby. “Contrary to what you see on television, we try to make arrests as quietly as possible.”

   Clancy came strolling through the front door. “Hello, Taylor. It’s been a long time.”

   Taylor stood up. “Hello, Deputy Clancy. I’m glad you found the time to report to work. Please surrender your weapon and shield.”

   Clancy looked around, and flashed a half smile. “What’s all this?”

   Three deputies formed a line across the outside of the office door.

   “I have asked you to surrender your weapon and shield, Deputy Clancy. If you do not perform this action voluntarily, I will compel you to do so.”

   Clancy looked around as if considering his chances.

   He put his hand on his pistol.

   Taylor unsnapped the strap on his holster. “Two fingers only, please.” 

   Clancy complied, then dropped his shield on Taylor’s desk. “I want my lawyer.”

   “Deputies, please take Deputy Clancy into custody and read him his rights.”

   Taylor followed them down the hall and watched as they processed Clancy and secured him to a chair in the interview room.

   They returned to the lobby.

   “Deputy Gloria Freeman, meet your new partner Deputy Carla Bowman. Deputy Jeremiah Rutherford, this is your new partner Deputy David Bonner. Train ‘em right, your lives may depend on them.”

   Taylor returned to the observation room. “I need a copy of the events that went on in the interrogation room last night, please.”

   “Right away, Sheriff. When would you like to interview the suspects?”

   “Clancy wouldn’t talk to me if I tortured him, and the others have pretty much hung themselves. The only thing that’s left to do is let the lawyers make their deals.”

   “I’ll take their statements,” said Phillips. “You go home and get some rest.”

   Taylor’s phone rang.  He put the speaker on. 

   “Special Agent Taylor, where are you?”

  
Morris.
Taylor rubbed his head.
My day is complete
.  He looked out the glass door.
Hell, a new one’s started
. “I’m currently at the Morgansville Sheriff’s Station. What can I do for you, Morris?”

   “That’s Supervisory Special Agent Morris to you, Special Agent Taylor. You are supposed to be shadowing Miss Mathews, or have you forgotten?” 

   “What’s wrong, Morris? Can’t you watch over more than one person at a time?” Commander Phillips asked.

   “Who is this?” Aggravation rang through, loud and clear, in Morrison’s voice.

   “This is Commander Phillips, your supervisor. While you and the others were snoring in that state owned camper last night, Taylor was supervising the round up of five suspects involved in this case.”

   “I-I didn’t know, sir.” Morris stammered over his words.

   “Since you’re so overwhelmed, do the best you can for a few more hours, and I’ll send Taylor out there. Give the entire family my apologies for the inconvenience.”

   “Yes, sir.” A beep sounded and the line went dead.

   Phillips shook his head. “How have you been handling all this?”

   “I don’t need much sleep.”

   A man whom Taylor judged to be in his late thirties entered the station. “Sorry I’m late. Who’s in charge?”

   “I’m Taylor, and this is Commander Phillips. What can we do for you Agent--”

   “Agent Steven Robeson of the FBI, and I want to talk to the person in charge of this operation, not some flunky.”

   Taylor took a step forward. “I’m FDLE Special Agent Taylor, and am currently the acting sheriff.”

   Robeson opened his briefcase and handed Taylor a thick manila envelope. “I suppose you’re the reason I was forced to drive all the way to Dade County last night.”

   “I could be. Depends on what’s in this envelope.”

   “That’s the results on the drug tests ran on a Corvette leased by David Clancy from Vortex Motors of Miami, and a fishing boat called The Fallen Lady, of Brigadoon Charters, operating out of Coral Gables. I also have a video surrendered by Brigadoon Charters, from The Fallen Lady. Now if you will excuse me, it’s been a long night, and I want to get some sleep.”

   “You’re not excused, Agent Robeson. Follow me, please.” Taylor led the FBI agent and Commander Phillips, into his office and closed the door.

   “I have the deaths of two FDLE agents on my hands.” He dropped the pictures of agents Stevenson and Morales on his desk. 

   “Ten more partial, and as of yet, unidentified bodies. Two families under police protection. And a drug trafficking ring that goes from one end of the state to the other. The evidence shows six cops were behind the whole damn thing. So forgive me if I’m having a hard time caring about how tired you are. David Clancy is in the interview room. I have a history with him, and don’t think I’m the best person to conduct this interview.” 

   He put all the evidence on top of the table. “You can set up in here.”

   Agent Robeson propped his feet on Taylor’s desk. “Apology accepted.” 

   “It wasn’t an apology. I don’t want you near my people. And get your damn feet off my desk.” Taylor walked out the door. 

   “Evan, have you finished making copies of the events from this evening?”

   “Ready and waiting.”

   He took the recordings from the interview back to Agent Robeson.  “They all have lawyers, but you might be able to use something from this.”

   Robeson took the SD card. “Thanks.” 

   Taylor flopped down in a chair and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he got up and rubbed his eyes. “If you need anything call this number.” He wrote down his cell phone number.

   “Where are you going?”

   “To my second job.” 

   *

   Taylor headed to the Mathews’ farm. The drive was normally pleasant, but today things were crashing down on him. A million voices argued inside his head.
Come on, man. You’ve got to hold it together. It’s almost over. Let the suits do their thing.

   Taylor watched the family at the corral.

   John Mathews and an impressive black stallion functioned as one. As they raced behind a running steer, John flung his lasso. The braided rope seemed to float around the horns of the steer. The black stallion backed up a few steps helping the lasso become taut, while the steer fought to free itself.

   Alex and Stoney weren’t slouches either. The horse positioned himself as Alex let his lariat sail under the hind feet of the struggling steer. Stoney backed up until the animal’s feet were taken out from under him, and both horses faced each other.

   “Time.” Tara Mathews called from atop Sandy.

   “Nobody move just yet.” Jess leaped from the fence and took a few pictures.

   “What are you up to?” Alex asked, as he and his father released the animal, and recoiled their ropes.

   “This is for a photography contest.” Jess took his seat on the fence. “I’m about to make you and Dad famous.” 

   “It’s about time you showed up. Farrah Mathews has been asking to leave all day long.” Morris walked next to Taylor and leaned against his truck. “What was so important, it took all night?”

   Taylor watched Farrah coming up the hill from the barn. “Ask Commander Phillips.” He met her half-way up, hoping they were out of Morris’ hearing range. “I’m sorry. I was unavoidably detained.”

   “It’s okay.” She stared at his face. “You don’t look very good. Perhaps you should lay down.”

   The case was almost over. She wouldn’t be his assignment much longer. No matter what it took, he was going to find a way to make their relationship work. That is, if she would have him. “Can we go somewhere?”

   “Sure. What do you have in mind?”

   “It doesn’t matter.” Taylor fought to keep his composure. Exhaustion and loneliness were overpowering him. He needed some time alone with a friend. The case was down to loose ends. Decisions were going to have to be made. “Let’s just go.” 

   “Let me grab my basketball.” She went inside the house.

   Taylor leaned against his truck staring at the front door of the house. Her form was the only thing he wanted to look at.

   Morris walked up to him. “I see you found time to watch Miss Mathews.”

   Taylor quit smoking two years ago. Now, he craved a cigarette as long as his truck. “She wants to practice.”

   “Are you sure that’s all she wants to do?”

   Taylor slammed him against the truck. “Watch your mouth.” 

   “Are you trying to end your career?”

   Taylor let him go. “Not over something like you.”

   Farrah joined them holding her gear. “Ready to go, Taylor?”

   He held the door for her. “Whatever you say, Miss Mathews.” 

   They sped down a dirt road. Dust rose from beneath the truck like thick smoke.

   Farrah put her hand on his arm. “Heath, please stop and tell me what is going on.” 

   He stared at the road ahead. “Do you ever feel like the world is crushing you?” 

   She tried to read his expression. “Yeah, it’s hard to breath.” 

   “Is there some place quiet and out of the way we can go?”

   “I know just the place.”

   They drove a few more miles, until they came to a path that was obscured by thick brush and trees.

   “Turn here,” she said.

   They cut through acres of thick-planted pines on an old logging trail, which ended at a huge pond.

   Farrah unfastened her seatbelt. “Is this what you had in mind?” 

   Taylor reached inside his glove box and pulled out a radar scrambler. “I didn’t know this was back here.” 

   “It the best kept secret in Morgansville.” Farrah looked at the gadget. “What’s that?” 

   “It’s a radar scrambler. When I realized the key personnel in the sheriff’s department were corrupt, I activated the GPS locaters on all the county cell phones. Right now, I don’t wish to be found.”

   “Turn your truck around, please.” Farrah’s voice seemed softer.

   “Why?” 

   “I want to look at the pond from the truck bed.”

   Taylor had a hard time turning his truck around in the dense woods. Once they were parked, she got out of the truck and let the tailgate down. “Climb in.”

   Taylor followed her to the back of the truck. “What are you doing?” 

   “Take off your shirt and lay down on your stomach.”

   “Okay.” He stripped down to his waist. “But promise me you’ll be gentle.”

   She straddled his waist. “What fun would that be?”

   He already wanted her. Only a few thin pieces of cloth separated her skin from his. His pulse quickened. His pants tightened as his desire grew. “Farrah, what’s going on?” 

   Light chops pounded his back muscles. “Nothing much.” She slid her hands up his back and started rubbing the kinks out. “You’re wound so tight. You feel like you’re about to break.”

   Two jobs. Desire he had to keep hidden. Lack of sleep. No wonder is world was crashing down around him. “If I keep getting pulled in all different directions, that may happen.”

   “Is there anything I can do?”

   “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re part of what’s pulling me.”

   “Sorry.” She stopped rubbing his back. “I didn’t realize I was such a weight on your shoulders.”

   “You’re not.” He had to make her understand. “My feelings say one thing, but my job says another.”

   “Then we’ll just wait until your job is no longer an issue.” She finished his back and worked her way up to his neck and shoulders.

   He closed his eyes and let her work. Months of tension was released with every touch of Farrah’s hands. His body made little crackling sounds as she manipulated his neck.

   She laid down next him. “Feel better now?” 

   Taylor turned toward her. “You’re a miracle worker.” He closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

   “Why don’t you thank me properly?” She tasted his mouth.

   He drew her closer to him. “What about the case?”

   “I promise not to won’t tell a soul.” She started kissing his bare chest. “This is nice.”

   He started trembling as he lay back and pulled her on top of him. “Damn, girl. You really know how to get inside my head.

   She kissed his stomach. “Do you really like what I’m doing? You’re not just saying that to be nice, are you?”

   His phone rang before he could answer.

   He checked the caller ID. It was Robeson. “I have to take this.”

   Farrah straightened her shirt. “I thought you had that thing turned off.” 

   “I jammed the GPS signal. I have to keep the ringer on. This won’t take long. I promise.” He pressed the button on his phone. “Hello?”

   “Taylor, this is Agent Robeson. The technician said he could pin-point your exact location, but you’re off the radar.”

   “There must be some kind of interference around here.”

   Farrah was kissing his back.

   “Get over here,
pronto
. I have some questions.”

   “Be there soon.” He shoved his phone into his shirt pocket. “We have to go.”