Wrecked (Josie Gray Mysteries #3)(91)
Booked on a host of charges from the federal government, Wally was then led down the hallway to a bathing area used for new prisoners.
While Martínez processed Wally, Josie called Agent Omstead.
“We got him. Wally’s in custody and we have the nine million dollars at the Arroyo County Jail.”
“You have Wally and the money?” He laughed, obviously shocked by the news. “Nice work, Chief Gray.”
Josie smiled at his response. She explained the takedown, and the fact they now had nine million dollars of cartel money in their custody. He told Josie how impressed he was with their police work, and it was no surprise when he said they would have an agent to Artemis within an hour to seize the money.
Josie stood with Otto outside the interview room to discuss what came next. Otto was the lead, but he had no trouble giving the interrogation to Josie. “You deserve this one. Go in there and nail that bastard.”
Josie entered the room and shook hands with Wally’s attorney, Charlie Givens. Wally had accepted the offer of a public defender. Charlie was sixty years old and had retired several years ago, but then a year later had come back to work after his wife was diagnosed with cancer and money became an issue. Charlie was a genuinely nice person, and Josie wondered occasionally how he handled representing such lowlifes for all these years.
Charlie said he had just been informed they would be escorting Wally to the interview room shortly. Josie took the opportunity to explain the charges and the need to question Wally immediately.
“I feel confident he has information that could help us bring Dillon back home,” she said. “I understand your need to protect your client, but anything you can do to help us speed this along could be critical to Dillon’s survival.”
Charlie leaned back in his chair and considered Josie for a moment. He was wearing a tan suit, white shirt, and a yellow-and-navy-colored paisley tie. His silver hair was neatly combed to the side and Josie could smell his aftershave. Charlie was a country gentleman and he was one of Josie’s favorite attorneys to work with.
“Contrary to what television tells you, all attorneys are not sons of bitches out to set vicious criminals free and screw over grandmas and small children. I will do everything in my power to ensure you get the information you need without further jeopardizing my client. How’s that for a compromise?”
Josie smiled, stood from her chair, and reached across the table to shake his hand. “That’ll work. I appreciate your cooperation.”
Five minutes later, Wally Follet entered the interview room wearing an orange inmate jumpsuit with his ankles shackled and his hands in plastic cuffs. His uncombed black hair was still damp from the shower, but he was clean and the stench was now gone. Heavyset with a large frame, he looked nothing like his lanky son. He had thick hair that sat on his head like a cap, and deep-set wrinkles that ran vertical lines down either side of his chin and gave him a constant deep frown.
Josie ran through the formalities of the interview, and then Charlie ran through his set of instructions. Wally stared at the table as if completely tuned out.
Josie had a written list of questions she intended to ask. She did not need a hostile conversation with Wally Follet. She needed information. But the image and sounds of Dillon’s arm being slashed pressed into her thoughts, and she couldn’t stick to her list.
“Explain to me why you sat on nine million dollars knowing that your son had been abducted and terrorized by a group of mercenaries? Knowing that your accountant was kidnapped? Knowing that Bea Conroy murdered Christina Handley while you stood back and watched? Can you help me understand any of this? Because right now I am royally pissed off.”
Charlie interrupted her, his tone stern. “Chief Gray.”
Josie continued, her face red with anger, unable to stop herself. “I would like nothing better than to see you rot like spoiled meat in a federal pen for the rest of your life. Better yet, let the cartel mete out your punishment. You were willing to allow the cartel to beat your son to a pulp while you hid like a coward.”
Charlie raised his hand and called her name again, clearly annoyed with her approach. He turned his attention to Wally. “Mr. Follet, you don’t need to answer any of those questions. They were inflammatory and inappropriate.” Looking at Josie again, he said, “Let’s stick to the facts here. Harassing Mr. Follet won’t serve any of us at this point.”
Charlie was a nice guy, but he was a professional who wouldn’t allow his client to be badgered, no matter what kind of lowlife the defendant might be.
Josie clasped her hands in front of her on the table and clenched her jaw. She stared at Wally, who stared back, his eyes devoid of emotion, his expression flat.
“Okay. I’ll be completely honest,” she started again. “My concern isn’t you or your money. It isn’t even about the charges. My concern is finding a way to bring Dillon Reese home. Tonight. I want you to make that happen. You started this mess, you need to clean it up.”
Wally appeared to be sizing her up, staring at her with suspicion. “I been watching everybody else watching out for me. I been down at the river. I heard things.”
“And?”
“I been listening to those river rats talk for days.”
“What did you hear that pertained to the kidnapping?”
He rubbed his chin and tilted his head as if giving her question careful consideration. “You cut me a deal? I can lead you to Dillon Reese.”