Justice Lost (Darren Street #3)(65)

The sheriff nearly choked involuntarily. “Why would you think I’d get caught up in anything so stupid?”

His voice remained calm, but he was suddenly frantic. How could they know? How could they possibly know? He couldn’t explain, though. He couldn’t tell this lawyer he was a federal informant, or at least he’d thought he’d been a federal informant.

“I certainly agree that what you did was stupid, and so does my client,” the lawyer said. “Why you did it remains a bit of a mystery, but we expect Morris was about to go to the feds and your uncle didn’t take the news well.”

“Why would Morris go to the feds?” the sheriff said. “He was in everything up to his eyeballs.”

“We all know how it goes,” Turner said. “First one to the courthouse gets the best deal.”

“Nah, he was a district attorney. The judge would have put that whole violation-of-the-public-trust guilt trip on him. He would have done a bunch of time.”

“Depends on how much he had to offer,” Turner said. “Maybe he had a tape or two or a dozen. You didn’t ever threaten him, did you, Sheriff? Because I had occasion to speak to Jim Harrison a couple of times, and Harrison intimated that the district attorney and his family may have been threatened.”

“He didn’t need to be threatened. He was in from day one, and he didn’t want out. Darren Street is what changed things.”

“What about Uncle Roby? Did he threaten Morris?”

“Roby stayed away from him. Didn’t like him. And like I said, Morris was in. He was solid. He didn’t need threatening.”

“Then why did you kill him?” Turner said.

“I didn’t kill him. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“You’re lying. Why did you kill him?”

“I’m not lying. How many times do I have to tell you? I didn’t kill the man. I didn’t kill his wife. I didn’t kill his girlfriend, and I didn’t kill his bagman.”

“Who did?”

“Don’t know.”

“If you continue to deny you were involved and don’t give me the names of everyone who was, I’ve been instructed to tell you that we will bring down a firestorm of destruction on you that will make you wish you’d never been born. You’ll find yourself in a federal penitentiary in less than a year, if you live that long. We’ll kill your father, your sister, and that brother you don’t give a damn about. We know you were driving the boat, Sheriff. Somebody saw you. You were wearing a mask, but you had to wear those damned Pythons strapped to your legs, didn’t you?”

“Who told you that nonsense?”

“It doesn’t matter. We believe him. He saw you, and now you have to answer for your stupidity. You basically have two options. You can do nothing and wait for the hammer to drop, or you can kill and get rid of the two men who helped you that night so we can get back to business as usual and not have to worry about further violence.”

Tree turned his large head and stared at the lawyer.

“You realize you’re asking me to kill my own kin, don’t you? Roby Penn is crazy and he’d probably just as soon kill me as look at me, but he’s been good to y’all. Your client and several others have made a fortune off him. I expect you’ve earned a little yourself.”

“His decision to kill a sitting district attorney general—even one who was about to be beaten in an election—along with his decision to kill the man’s wife, one of his coworkers, and his girlfriend shows us his judgment is failing.”

“I’m in charge of the investigation. It isn’t going to go anywhere. If y’all will just cool your jets for a while, everything will be fine.”

The sheriff could feel his thighs trembling involuntarily. He knew his only hope was the FBI, but after what had transpired with that agency, he didn’t have a lot of confidence in them.

“We don’t believe the new district attorney general will be a problem. We have him neutralized. But we don’t want more violence, especially this kind of high-profile violence.”

“Neutralized? How do you have him neutralized?”

“We told him what he wanted to hear.”

“You talked to him?”

“My client talked to him. He lied. Do you think Street will be a problem in the future?”

“I haven’t talked to him much, but I don’t think he cares about money. I’m not sure about other things. I don’t know how aggressive he’ll be.”

“If he starts making noise,” Turner said, “we’ll employ other methods to settle him down.”

“Why don’t you just kill him?”

“If we think we need that done, we’ll be in touch.”

“I’m not killing him,” the sheriff said.

“Of course you will if we need you to. And you’ll kill Roby.”

“You’re out of your damned mind.”

“And the other person who was with you. Who was it?”

“You don’t know him.”

“Answer the question.”

“A guy named Harley Shaker. I’m sure you know about the marine that went missing. Harley killed him in a bare-knuckle fight. My uncle took care of the body, so he called in the marker when he decided to do something about Morris and his wife.”