Justice Lost (Darren Street #3)(52)
“You saw the sheriff at the rally. He knew Morris was beaten. Maybe Morris knew it, too. Maybe he threatened the sheriff somehow, or maybe they just wanted to tie off loose ends.”
“Be careful, Darren. If they’re capable of this, who knows? They might come after you, too.”
“I can take care of myself. Besides, they can’t just kill everybody who occupies the office. This was a warning to me, though. They want me to know they’re serious. They want me to stay away.”
“You won’t, will you?”
“Not a chance.”
“Let me know how it goes with the sheriff or his investigator or whoever he sends,” Claire said.
“I can’t wait to hear what they have to say. Good night, Claire.”
CHAPTER 29
Sheriff Corker banged on the front door of Special Agent in Charge Bradley Kurtz’s home at six on Sunday morning. Corker had just gotten away from Roby and Shaker a couple of hours earlier and had gone straight to the office. It took him a little time, but he was finally able to get Kurtz’s home address. He drove straight there, looking and feeling haggard and dirty. After several minutes of banging, Kurtz opened the door wearing a black terry-cloth robe.
“Where the hell were you guys?” Corker demanded. “You let four people die!”
“You could get shot, beating on my door at this time of the morning. Don’t ever do it again.”
“Fuck yourself,” Corker said. “I asked you a question. Where were you? Four people died. You were supposed to be there to prevent it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kurtz said. The look in his eyes told Corker he might very well be telling the truth.
“Where is Wilcox?” Corker said. “Get him on the phone. I met with him late Tuesday night and told him Roby Penn and another man named Harley Shaker were going to kill Stephen Morris, his wife, Jim Harrison, and Leslie Saban. I told him it was time to start wrapping this case up. He said the FBI would prevent the murders and start indicting people. Did you know anything about any of this?”
“Keep your voice down,” Kurtz said sharply. “I got a call a few hours ago that Morris and his wife were dead. And what did you say about Wilcox? You told him this was going to happen?”
“Tuesday. I told him Tuesday night.”
“This is news to me. And what was that about wrapping up a case?”
The sheriff’s eyes widened. Could it be possible? No . . . surely not.
“The case I’ve been feeding Wilcox for years. The RICO case he said he was going to use to send himself right to the top of the FBI’s food chain.”
Kurtz opened the door and invited Corker in. “Let’s go to the kitchen. I’ll make some coffee. You look like you could use it. Just keep your voice down, okay? My wife went back to bed, and my daughter is sleeping.”
Corker followed Kurtz through the house to the kitchen.
“How long have you been meeting with Wilcox?” Kurtz said as he began to brew a pot of coffee.
“What? You’re the one that assigned him to me.”
“So you’ve been meeting with him ever since? Where?”
“At the safe house in Strawberry Plains. We’ve met once a month.”
“And you’ve provided him with what?”
“What the hell?” the sheriff said. He felt like his head was about to explode. “What is happening here? He didn’t give you anything?”
“Calm down and just answer the question. What have you provided to Agent Wilcox?”
“Anything he wanted. Tapes, mostly, and money. Video and photographs. I can’t tell you how many times I put my life on the line for you guys. I did the same for that DEA guy Wilcox brought in.”
“DEA? What’s his name?”
“Higgins. But I haven’t seen him in quite a while. He came in and acted all gung ho, but then he said he had bigger fish to fry and he left.”
“Hang on a minute,” Wilcox said. He picked up his cell phone and left the room. He returned a few minutes later, scowling.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Kurtz said. “There is no case, and Wilcox is AWOL. He’s in the wind. Nobody has heard from him since Tuesday night. We talked to his wife Wednesday, and she said he went out to meet an informant and didn’t come back. We thought maybe he was dead. And I just talked to the DEA. There is no Higgins around here. Never has been.”
“I don’t understand. How can there be no case? How is any of this possible?”
“Wilcox came to me not long after I put the two of you together and said Morris had refused to get into the protection racket. Without the district attorney, we didn’t have an official misconduct case, and we’d promised you immunity. He said he was closing it down, and I didn’t have any reason to believe otherwise. He’s been working bank robberies and counterterrorism. He never mentioned you.”
“So he just spent an hour with me once a month and collected the money? It was all a ruse? But what about Roby Penn and all the others? What about the lawyer in Nashville?”
“What lawyer in Nashville?”
“The one I take money to every month. Same cut as me and Morris. He gives it to somebody down there. I don’t have any idea who it is, but I thought maybe it was the governor. He’s obviously some big shot.”