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They parked in front of the Hideaway at 9:40. Taylor was pouring coffee behind the bar. “Do you two want a cup?”
They did, and they walked to the bar. Blake was on his cell phone and Shelley was at a table with stacks of paper. She was back from her own vacation and looking very healthy. Tony thought she even had a bit of a glow about her. He started toward her table, but Blake got off his phone and hollered, “Glad you got here – I was afraid you were going to miss out on the big finale.”
“What finale?”
Blake smiled and patted Shelley on the back. “Our girl here found your Interstate Killer.”
Wayne almost choked on his coffee. “What do you mean, she found the killer?”
Tony growled, “We beat the bushes for weeks, and you’re saying Shelley found the killer sitting here at home?”
Shelley said, “I checked truck line after truck line and found nothing, and then I went back over your notes. That waitress Tammy was the one that got me to thinking about who would be able to come and go without anyone thinking anything about them. A delivery driver.”
Wayne looked at Tony and said to Shelley, “A delivery driver?”
Shelley took a deep breath. “Nobody pays any attention to delivery drivers. They come to drop stuff off and then they’re gone. The cook or someone in the kitchen might know who they are, but not anyone out front. Four truck lines carry supplies to these truck stops. Two use refrigerated trucks, and the other two bring produce and dry goods. The trucks of all four have a perfect place to hide a captive. I contacted the FBI with my idea two days ago. They have sent us the names of the drivers who make those runs.”
Blake stepped to the front. “Which is why you’re here. You two need to get out to the government hangar. The FBI is letting you ride along on their plane. You’ll be assisting them in the takedown, and hopefully collecting a little payback once the State Police are put in their place. Sound like something you want to do?”
Tony and Wayne placed their half-drunk coffee on the bar and made a beeline for the door. Blake turned to Shelley. “I guess that was a yes.”
Wayne and Tony were perched on the guard railing that ran around the hangar. As the plane approached, they picked up their go-bags and hung them from a shoulder. The plane circled on the apron and a ladder dropped for them. They ran to it and climbed aboard. The pilot was taxiing before the door closed.
A tall man with light-brown hair patted a double seat across from him. Three more men sat close by. Wayne and Tony took the seat offered and buckled up. The first man reached his hand out. “I’m Agent Harper, and those three are Agents Phillip, Stone, and Jenks. Welcome aboard.”
Wayne took Harper’s hand. “I’m Wayne Roberts and this is Tony Harris.” Tony shook Harper’s hand too.
“Harris, weren’t you the one that gave us the tip about the warehouse full of guns and drugs at Reelfoot Lake?”
“I was. How did that turn out?”
“It was a big bust. A lot of people got feathers in their hats over that one. In fact, it’s the reason you’re here – we like to repay our debts.”
After a pause, Wayne asked, “What about the Louisiana State Police? They shut us out.”
Agent Harper laughed. “If they try that with us, we’ll close them down and review every case they’ve had for the last 20 years. We make much better friends than enemies.”
The plane landed in Baton Rouge, where two black SUVs waited for them. Wayne and Tony rode with Harper in the first vehicle, and the other three agents piled into the second one. When they reached the State Police Headquarters, they parked next to the curb in front, in a no-parking zone.
Going up the steps, Harper handed Wayne a blue folder bearing a government insignia. “I’ll let you serve these assholes. The papers inside that folder inform them that the case is now under our jurisdiction and they are to turn over to us all of their pertinent papers and notes.”
“Thanks, I’m going to enjoy this.”
The first person they ran into upon entering the offices of the Bureau of Investigations was Sergeant Durham, who saw Tony standing beside Wayne and addressed them sternly, “I thought you took the hint and got out of town. I think I told you to stay away from my case?”
Wayne smiled and handed Durham the blue folder. “Sergeant Durham, I would like you to meet our big brother, who doesn’t like to see us get pushed around.”
Agent Harper stepped forward. “The FBI is taking over the Interstate Killer case, and you must comply with that official order.”
Durham was red in the face as he sputtered his next words: “This isn’t a Federal case, it’s State.”
Harper pointed at what looked like a conference room. “Phillip, set up shop in there.” Then he turned back to Durham. “This case is whatever we want it to be. You shoot your mouth off once more and I’ll have you removed from the building.”
A lieutenant came running from a back office to see what all the fuss was about. He was overweight, balding, and probably trying to ride out his time before retirement. “I’m Lieutenant Rainy,” he said. “What’s going on here?”
Durham handed his superior officer the order turning the case over to the FBI. Lieutenant Rainy read it and then looked at his sergeant. “I believe you can read as well as I can. It’s their case – get on with your life.” Rainy turned and walked back to his office.
The six men gathered around the conference table with three computers. Tony asked, “Do we have the name of the killer or just the truck line he drives for?”
Harper motioned him to the other side of the table, where he was watching a red dot move along on a map displayed on a computer monitor. “That’s our guy. That red dot. When he gets close to this weigh station here” – he pointed – “we’ll go there and be waiting for him.”
Wayne’s eyebrows rose. “How are you so sure it’s the right guy?”
Harper laughed. “I wish I could claim it was due to great detective work, but the truth is, he is the only one that has worked there long enough to have killed all those women.”
Harper clapped his hands. “Pack it up. It’s show time.”
Ten minutes later the black SUVs were parked behind the weigh station. With guns drawn, Agents Phillip, Stone, and Jenks waited to charge the rear of the truck while Harper, Wayne, and Tony waited to take the front head on.
A semi-truck pulled off the scales and Harper whispered, “He’s in the next truck. Here we go.”
The sound of the airbrakes was the signal to move. Harper ran around to the driver’s door and aimed at the driver, Tony ran to the passenger door, and Wayne covered the center. Stone and Jenks moved along either side of the truck toward the front, and Stone opened the driver’s door and pulled the driver to the ground. He didn’t fight, didn’t say a word, just lay quietly alongside the scale platform.
Phillip called out from the back, “I’ve got a woman back here with the produce. We’ll need the medics – she’s in bad shape.”
After weeks of work, it was over in a matter of seconds. More FBI agents poured onto the scene. The truck was pulled to the side to be processed, and the killer, Jake Wallace, 39 years old, was carted away in the back of an agency car. In two hours, Wayne and Tony were airborne on their way back to Memphis.
| Copyright © 2019, 2020 by Ed Rogers |
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