Forbidden Entry (37 page)

CHAPTER

33

The powerful snowstorm blew itself out by Friday morning, but the firestorm of controversy in regards to the astonishing discovery of the clandestine drug lab was just heating up. Because the investigation was in its infancy and the justice system tends to move at a snail's pace, I knew it would be months and perhaps years before all the salacious details of the extraordinary story would come to light.

Burton's Carr's body wasn't discovered until late Thursday afternoon and only then because of Daisy Dorcett's annoying persistence. True to her compulsive nature, she'd been out walking in the storm the previous evening photographing snowflakes when she'd seen his truck heading up the mountain towards the closed Forest Service road. She'd hurried home to tell Darcy, who had at first blown her off, but after hearing the news the next morning, began to take her sister seriously and reported it to the sheriff. She'd also told him that three years earlier, Daisy had tried to tell her that Burton Carr had killed his mother but she'd dismissed it as nonsense.

After fleeing the Thunderbolt Mine, Burton Carr had returned to the abandoned fire tower where he'd spent his happiest days as a child and taken his own life. Apparently carefully planned in advance, he'd mixed up a cocktail of lethal drugs and gone to sleep. He'd left behind a detailed suicide note confessing his limited, but deadly involvement and implicated his stepbrother as the ringleader of the sophisticated, synthetic drug manufacturing and distribution operation. He'd also provided the names of the other minions and saved incriminating documents and photos. The vexing question of the missing cell phones was also answered when authorities found them hidden in a metal box that acted as a Faraday cage, blocking the electromagnetic waves and thereby making it impossible for the phones to be tracked.

The Hinkles, my stalker, his accomplice, Jack Loomis, four of the truck drivers and a number of employees at the processing plants in Mesa and Tempe were apprehended. Within hours, the revelation was the top story on every Phoenix radio and television station, major Internet news site and social media. Darren Pomeroy remained hospitalized in stable condition but refused to speak with detectives after retaining counsel. His uncle, Dr. Gabriel Gartiner, surrendered without incident and was cooperating with the authorities, most likely in hopes of wrangling a reduced sentence. But, as happens all too often in cases where the perpetrators take themselves out, it's difficult to fully reconstruct the whole picture or to ever know their true motivation for committing the crime. Instead, everyone is left to speculate unless confessions or additional physical evidence is obtained. I thought about all of these things as I struggled to cobble together the most disturbing and convoluted story of my career based on facts emerging over the past forty-eight hours.

Only minutes before Marshall, Duane and reinforcements from the Yavapai County Sheriff's office stormed in, I'd finally located Sean lying in a narrow, dank passageway, cold and unresponsive. Anguished tears blurred my vision as I frantically checked for a pulse. I massaged his arms and legs to increase circulation and sent up a prayer of eternal thanks when he jerked and moaned weakly. After wrapping him in the blanket that Burton Carr had kindly provided for me, I stayed with him until help arrived. He and Darren Pomeroy were transported to the Maricopa County Hospital in Phoenix by ambulance because high winds and low visibility prevented a helicopter landing. By the time I'd finished giving my statement to Marshall, officials from the DEA Task Force rolled in. Tally came rushing in amid the myriad of flashing lights, his dark brown eyes reflecting deep concern. When I hadn't shown up for dinner, he'd phoned Marshall, only to find out he'd already been called to the area. “What the hell happened here?” Tally demanded, surveying my disheveled appearance. Following a brief rundown of the disturbing situation, he lectured me on my penchant for getting myself in trouble and then spirited me away for medical attention.

The six inches of accumulated snow in the mountains, coupled with driving rain and fog in the lower desert regions, created hazardous driving conditions on all the roads, making the trip to Castle Valley much longer than expected. The painkillers Burton had forced down my throat were wearing off and I felt like I'd been run over by one of the gravel trucks. Since my cell phone was still lying somewhere on the snowy hillside, I used Tally's to let my parents know that I was all right. After hearing some of the harrowing details, both of them were understandably upset. My mother admonished me for my over-the-top heroics, babbling something about the ‘Wild West' but when I told her about Sean, she fell silent.

“He was in real danger,” I stated firmly. “I didn't have much choice.” I made a second phone call to Ginger, explained the circumstances and asked if she could drive my parents to Phoenix to be with Sean.

“I knew it! I knew you'd get to the bottom of it. Now, don't you fret, girlfriend!” she exclaimed excitedly. “I am on this.”

With the exception of bruises on my throat, a knot on my head and confirmation of my broken arm, Dr. Garcia pronounced me in excellent physical shape. But he also gravely added the caveat that I was damn lucky to be alive. I couldn't have agreed more.

Later that night, after a meal and hot shower, Tally enfolded me in his arms and held me for the longest time. “Good God, Kendall, that was a close call. I'm glad you had the presence of mind to use your weapons training.” He pulled back and cupped my face in his hands, his eyes probing deep into my psyche. “No question in my mind that you are one amazingly gutsy lady, but I don't think I'm going to let you out of my sight for awhile.”

I had to acknowledge to myself that the ordeal had shaken me more than I cared to admit, even though I thought I'd made every attempt to do things right this time. I'd told everyone where I was going, fulfilled my promise to Tally by informing law enforcement, had my .38 for protection and still, I'd gotten myself into a precarious predicament. Was it worth the sky-high adrenalin rush? Perhaps it really was time to reevaluate my priorities. A Pulitzer Prize awarded posthumously wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind.

My dad phoned the following morning to tell me that Sean was expected to make a full recovery. They'd had a serious heart-to-heart talk with him, and he had agreed to consider rehab. After having experienced what would be my one and only psychedelic trip, I had a new insight on why he'd been drawn into that lifestyle. Why not feel that good all the time? “All we can do is pray he actually does it,” I told my dad. “There is no guarantee rehab will be successful unless he truly wants to get sober and stay sober.”

“I agree. But he was pretty upset when I told him the high price you paid to rescue him. I think that may have been a factor in him agreeing to do it.”

Ruefully, I looked down at my left arm encased in the pink cast. “Yeah, that was a little bigger enterprise than the run-of-the-mill meth lab I was expecting to find. But I went with my instincts just like you always told me.”

My dad was quiet for extended seconds before saying gruffly, “I'm really proud of you, Pumpkin. If it hadn't been for this damned foot, I'd have been there with you.”

“Mom's not too happy about my decision to tackle it alone and neither is Tally.”

“Let's not dwell on that. You were doing your job, you got through it, got your story and kiddo, you've got more courage than most men I've met during my lifetime.” It was heartening that the two most important men in my life had the same thought. “Thanks, Dad,” I replied, my throat closing with emotion. It was a somber moment so I lightened it with, “We'll be quite a pair with our matching casts at the party tomorrow night.”

Ever the optimist, he said brightly, “And we're going to dance the night away celebrating if it kills us, right, Pumpkin?”

“Ginger has promised it will be a one-of-a-kind evening, so yes, I can hardly wait to see everyone.”

“That reminds me, we got a note from Tally's mother apologizing for her bad behavior at the barbeque. We accepted it, so I'm guessing she's going to be there.”

As usual, the mere mention of Ruth sent a shiver of irritation waltzing down my spine. “Crap! I was hoping she'd stay home. She's hot one minute and cold the next. There's never a dull moment with that woman around. Let's hope she's properly medicated, and we have to keep her away from the champagne.”

My dad chuckled. “The Starfire is a pretty big place. Maybe you could talk Tally into building your new house an additional ten miles further away.”

“Not a bad idea. Well, I've got to get this story filed before I leave. See you later, Dad!”

By the time the staff assembled for our editorial meeting later that afternoon, my conversations with Marshall had netted additional evidence that helped tie up a few loose ends. A search of Burton Carr's home in Mayer had shed some light on his mental and emotional state and yielded more information regarding the deaths of Luke Campbell, Benjamin Halstead, Jenessa and Nathan.

“Gaawd damn it!” Walter exclaimed, shaking his head in amazement. “I eat one bowl of rotten chili and miss out on all the excitement.”

I eyed my cast. “And a broken arm.”

“Yeah, but the upside is you got the byline on one hell of a story,” Tugg crowed, clapping his hands together. “I swear the headlines you provide are keeping this paper afloat.”

I grinned my appreciation and looked around the room at the expectant faces of my treasured co-workers and friends, once again thankful to be alive. The only missing faces were Tally and Ginger. Tally had agreed to pick up my brother Patrick, his family and my cousins at the airport in Phoenix and transport them to the Desert Sky Motel while Ginger had left early to finalize arrangements for the engagement party.

“So, let's hear all the juicy details,” Walter demanded eagerly, appearing pale and noticeably thinner since his illness. “You said this guy Pomeroy was a kick-ass rich lawyer. Why get involved in such a risky venture?”

“Money. More money than he could ever make practicing law or from all his legitimate real estate investments. He very cleverly drafted paperwork to make sure that this endeavor would never lead back to him by setting up several interlocking LLCs listing front men as the owners of the gravel company, the processing plants and the two trendy nightclubs in Scottsdale, which by the way, is where he met the Hinkle brothers. They were already dealing on the side and it didn't take Darren long to figure out how lucrative it could be on a much larger scale. Danny Hinkle hooked Pomeroy up with one of his contacts who worked closely with one of the cartels in Mexico.”

“If Pomeroy isn't talking,” Tugg remarked, “how do they know this?”

“Sheriff's detectives obtained a signed confession from Daryl Hinkle, who is the weaker of the twins.”

“So, if the lawyer was getting the goods from Mexico, whose idea was it to set up shop in that old mine?” Jim asked, twirling a pencil between his fingers.

“Pomeroy's. And I have to admit it was a brilliant scheme.” I went on to explain how ramped up security at the Arizona/Mexico border was making it more and more difficult for the cartels to get their loads into the States. Increased arrests and confiscation of large amounts of contraband by Border Patrol units and other federal agencies were affecting Darren Pomeroy's supply, and he began to worry that the escalating network of contacts could eventually lead back to him. “That's when he came up with the ingenious idea of producing the stuff himself,” I said. “But he needed to find a location way off the grid. The Thunderbolt Mine proved to be the perfect solution. He was already leasing the property for the sand and gravel operation and had been able to safely transport the drugs hidden beneath the rocks in the trucks. When they arrived at the processing plants in Mesa and Tempe, which he also owned, the drugs were unloaded, distributed to the dealers and sold to customers at his nightclubs and smoke shops. It was a foolproof plan. Because he was operating a legitimate business
within
the United States, who would ever have reason to inspect the truck loads for drugs? Now all he needed was someone with a background in chemistry to formulate and tweak the various compounds. He knew his uncle was a free spirit, a big proponent of medical marijuana, a user himself, and had no quarrel with other people using controlled substances to enhance their quality of life. Apparently, the doctor was also enriching himself by dispensing the illicit drugs through his clinic in Prescott along with his own herbal blends.”

“Pomeroy is one smart cookie,” Tugg com
mented astutely. “But, I thought you said he and Burton Carr were at odds. Why were they working together?”

I shared the details of the heated exchange I'd overheard in the mine, adding, “Dr. Gartiner is also a big proponent of assisted suicide. He loaned Burton the book
Final Departure
,
which outlines various methods people can use to…check out, so to speak. Burton chose to suffocate his mother with a plastic bag.”

The three of them stared at me in open-mouthed shock. “Ouch,” Walter finally managed to murmur. “That guy was one sick puppy.”

I shrugged. “Complex, that's for sure. Strange as it sounds, if he hadn't been a super-sensitive guy, I wouldn't be sitting here right now.”