Black Sheep (34 page)

“We’ve got our own on the way now that the scene is secure.”

While they made arrangements to transport Bernie, Caitlyn watched as Poppy was led
away by sheriff’s deputies dressed in camouflage tactical gear, differentiating them
from the state police SWAT unit dressed in black. Another deputy escorted Goose. She
made eye contact and gave him a wink, but he had to stay in character and merely scowled
at her, although his shoulders rocked with laughter.

The two SWAT leaders approached her. “Thanks for giving us the heads-up on the wild
animals,” the state police leader told her. “We have an animal control team on the
way to deal with the others.”

“You were amazing,” the news cameraman gushed as he ran over to film them. “The way
you and the leopard fought together, like you were totally in sync. This is going
to win me an Emmy, big-time.”

One of the deputies ushered him away. The two SWAT leaders turned back to her. “Seriously,
good work,” the sheriff’s department leader said. “No way we could have handled that
many Reapers without casualties.”

“No one was hurt?”

“Only Lionel Underwood. Looks like the leopard broke his neck.”

Weasel was dead. Somehow she just couldn’t feel too bad about that. Except to hope
it didn’t get the leopard in trouble.

“Using the news crew to stall for time and pacify them was brilliant, even if it wasn’t
exactly SOP,” the statie added. “I liked how you stayed one step ahead of them. You
knew that without a clear leader they might get out of control, so you took charge,
manipulated them every step of the way.” He shook his head. “Twenty-three armed men,
and you took them down with no civilian losses.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you guys,” Caitlyn told them, trying to sound like
she’d planned any of this instead of making it up as she went along. “I think the
news crew is waiting to talk with you.”

“Don’t you want to tell your side of things?” the deputy asked, obviously surprised
the FBI wouldn’t be taking all the credit for the night’s success.

“No, thanks. I’ll just catch a ride with one of your guys and give my statement.”

“Pleasure working with you, ma’am.”

She shook their hands, her own starting to tremble with fatigue and the ebb tide of
adrenaline leaving her system. “Thanks.”

*   *   *

Was there anything more humiliating than having your mother pick you up from the police
station where you’d been questioned most of the night? Caitlyn couldn’t think of anything—especially
as Jessalyn acted exactly like she had when Caitlyn was fifteen and got caught joyriding.

“What am I going to do with you?” she announced to the world. “You could have been
killed. Again.”

Caitlyn ignored the smiles of the law enforcement officers crowded into the tiny sheriff’s
station. All men and all enjoying her discomfort. Where were the colleagues who five
minutes ago had been treating her like a hero and congratulating her on taking care
of business without getting anyone—especially any law enforcement officers—shot?

“I’m fine, Mom. Drop me off at the lodge and I’ll pick up my car.”

“You’ll do no such thing. You’re coming home with me.”

The station doors closed behind them and Caitlyn took advantage of the relative privacy
to face Jessalyn. “No. Either take me to the lodge or take me home. To McSwain Mountain.”

Jessalyn turned pale. “To our old house? Why do you want to go there?”

“There’s something I need to get. Something Dad left for me.”

Jessalyn thrust the keys to her Jaguar into Caitlyn’s hand. “Fine. Go where you want.
Are you leaving me here or can a mother accompany her own daughter after her daughter
almost got herself killed?”

Caitlyn sighed. She hadn’t slept in two days and was in no mood to deal with Jessalyn.
“Get in.”

“Let me just call Jimmy, let him know you’re okay.” While Caitlyn got into the driver’s
seat and adjusted the mirrors, Jessalyn stood outside on her phone. Jimmy was probably
home in bed, warm and unworried. Why should he worry? Right now she had nothing to
tie him to Eli or Tommy’s murders except speculation. If there was any trail, it would
only lead to Poppy, she was certain.

Sooner or later she’d have to figure out what to do about Jimmy. She couldn’t start
an investigation into him, but maybe Sheriff Markle could. Or even Goose if there
was any evidence Jimmy knew about the money laundering. As it was, she wasn’t even
sure if they could get him for fraud on the original casino land deal. After all,
he hadn’t bought or sold the land under false pretenses—he’d only arranged for its
development. It would be up to the tribe to compensate the freedmen, pay any damages.

Hell, the way the legal system got so tangled, Jimmy might not have even broken any
laws. The thought made her feel beyond exhausted.

Jessalyn hopped into the car and they headed over the mountain. Home.

When they arrived, Caitlyn was surprised to see lights on in the house and a black
SUV in the drive. She had to shake off a feeling that her dad was waiting for her,
the house looked so warm and welcoming, exactly the way she remembered it.

“Jimmy’s kept it up,” Jessalyn said. “Just in case.”

They got out of the car. Caitlyn stared at the old farmhouse, at the porch where she’d
spent so many happy hours, at the stairs she and Vonnie used to race each other up
and down. Wind from the mountain made the hemlocks lining the drive weave back and
forth as if beckoning her. If she tried hard she swore she could hear her dad’s laughter
escaping the shadows.

Her phone rang. Boone. “Go on,” she told Jessalyn. “I’ll be right there.” She was
afraid to move since she miraculously had a wavering half bar of cell reception. “Tierney
here. You’re up early.”

“Who says I ever went to bed?” Boone answered in his usual endearing way. “Got that
call you wanted. Final call from Eli Hale went to a cell number registered to a casino.”

“Let me guess, the VistaView?”

“Yep. The voice is a man’s but we won’t be able to trace ownership.”

“Can you play it for me?”

“Sure. Hang on a sec.”

Caitlyn huddled against the rapidly cooling car, praying that the gods of cell reception
kept favoring her. Although a small part of her hoped the call vanished into the night—that
way she wouldn’t need to be the one to arrest her uncle.

“Here you go,” Boone said. Then a woman’s voice came over the line. “This is the operator
at Butner Federal Correctional Institute. An inmate named”—there was a pause while
Eli supplied his name—“would like to place a collect call to this number. Will you
accept the call and the charges?”

A man’s voice answered. “Yes. I’ll accept.”

It was Jimmy. Shit.

She squeezed her eyes shut as Eli Hale spoke from beyond the grave. “It’s me. Just
wanted to let you know my girl knows nothing. She’s just tracing her roots. Wants
to find her family, that’s all. Do you understand?”

“Of course. No problem. We’ll make sure she’s well taken care of.”

Then the click of a receiver hanging up.

Boone came back on the line. “Get what you need?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

Caitlyn hung up and climbed the stairs slowly, feet dragging as if she were eighty-five
instead of thirty-five. When she crossed the threshold into the front room, Jessalyn
was nowhere to be seen, but Jimmy sat in her father’s favorite recliner, legs sprawled
out in front of him, sucking on a fat cigar.

“Stand up, you’re under arrest.” Her tone was as low as her mood. But somehow there
was no surprise. It was as if, all her life, she’d been waiting for this moment. The
final betrayal.

“Under arrest?” Jimmy looked surprised. “For what?”

“For arranging the murder of Eli Hale. Since he was in federal custody, it’s federal
jurisdiction. Get up, hands where I can see them.”

“Goddamn it girl, you are just as stubborn as your father.” Jimmy took a drag on his
cigar before looking at Caitlyn again. “Don’t tell me I’m going to have to kill you,
too.”

Caitlyn’s hand went to her weapon. Not drawing it, but ready. “I’m going to call for
backup, we’ll go down to the sheriff’s station, and then you’re going to tell me everything.”

He laughed. The sound was anything but funny as it echoed through the empty room.
Nothing like the laughter she remembered in this house.

“I’ll tell you everything. And you’re going to leave like a good little girl and keep
that big mouth of yours shut. Forever.” Then he smiled. “Maybe this isn’t a bad thing.
Having a fed on board might come in handy. I’ll ask Poppy, see what he says. But I
warn you, girl. He doesn’t like you much. Not after you got him arrested last night.
Might prefer a dead fed.”

“He’s out?”

“Of course. He’ll never go to trial, not in this county. After all, it’s all he-says,
she-says evidence. No one was hurt and no one can say anyone broke any law except
Weasel and he’s not talking, now is he?”

She was so tired of this bullshit. Dealing with FBI politics was so much easier. “Put
the cigar down and keep your hands where I can see them.” Inside she shook like a
leaf caught in a blizzard, but she managed to keep her voice steady.

He took one more drag on his cigar then complied with a dramatic flourish. “Jessalyn,”
he shouted. “You want to get the hell in here, talk some sense into your girl?”

Caitlyn stepped back so she could cover both the hallway and Jimmy, hand still resting
on her weapon. She would draw if she had to—but she prayed it didn’t come to that.
Her mother entered the room, gliding across the oak floors like a beauty queen, not
a hitch in her step, hands in her coat pockets, holding it open as if it were an opera
cape.

“Caitlyn, I told you not to get involved in this.”

“He as good as admitted to killing Dad.” Damn, there was a quiver in her voice at
the end there. She sucked in her breath, focused on Jimmy. “Mom, I need you to call
the sheriff. Tell them a federal agent needs backup.”

“She’ll do no such thing,” Jimmy said.

“Mom—”

Jessalyn ignored her, instead waltzed past Jimmy, for one heart-stopping second crossing
Caitlyn’s line of fire. Caitlyn braced herself, drawing her weapon against the possibility
that Jimmy would take his sister hostage. If he did, what would she do?

But he didn’t. He simply lounged in his chair like he owned the world while Jessalyn
stepped to the wall and yanked out the phone cord. Surprise flooded over Caitlyn in
a wave of ice that made her skin crawl.

“You knew,” she gasped. “You knew he shot Dad.”

“I didn’t shoot your father,” Jimmy said.

Caitlyn whirled on him, weapon aimed. He was unarmed, a civilian, but at that moment
she didn’t care. Heat burned through her and for a moment all she could see was her
father lying in his own blood, just a few feet away from where Jimmy sat now. “Shut
up! You killed him. You killed my daddy.”

The muzzle of the gun shook. She drew in a breath and steadied her aim. “Tell me everything.
Now.”

He didn’t bother to hide his amusement or disdain. “Sure thing, Ging. But you’re not
going to like it.”

“Just tell her, Jimmy,” her mother urged. He glanced at her and she nodded, the slightest
bob of her chin, a queen granting a royal boon. “It’s time she decided for herself.
Family or not.”

What the hell was she talking about? The Glock felt heavier than it ever had.

“Your father had a choice,” Jimmy began. “He could have chosen family. Instead he
chose to place us all in danger. He could have chosen to protect you and your mom,
to ensure your future. Instead he chose—well, I never really understood what he was
choosing. That’s why I was there that day, arguing with him.”

“You killed my father.” Words so bitter cold they made her heart skip a beat then
race to catch up.

“No.” Her mom. Defending her brother. “Your father made his choice. He abandoned us,
Caitlyn. He’d rather see us dead than compromise his so-called honor.”

“You think Poppy’s a mean SOB now,” Jimmy added. “You should have known him back then.
I lost track of all the people gone missing around him. And the only thing they had
in common was that they’d gotten on the wrong side of Poppy and his club.”

“You mean
your
club. You run the Reapers as Poppy’s silent partner. Hell, you gave them your only
son as collateral. Poor Bernie has no idea he’s not a prospect, he’s a freaking hostage.”

Jimmy didn’t waste time denying the facts. “At least I know how to keep my family
safe. Not to mention prosperous.”

Money. It always came down to money with Jimmy. His idea of protecting his family
was really protecting himself and his financial interests. That’s why he had Tommy
Shadwick killed. He didn’t want the tribe to find the original Freedmen Pact and move
the casino away from the land Jimmy owned in Evergreen and made a fortune developing
after the VistaView was built. Greed. The bane of the McSwain family.

She glanced at Jessalyn. Looked hard at her mother. Jessalyn stood straight, no trace
of guilt or remorse.

“Dad didn’t betray us,” Caitlyn said slowly, the words tasting metallic and bitter.
“He was doing the right thing, doing his job, keeping an innocent man from going to
jail.”

“He betrayed me. Betrayed you. Would have taken your mother from you. Didn’t even
have to think twice about it.”

“You knew? About what Jimmy was doing?”

“I kept his books. Who do you think came up with the money-laundering scheme in the
first place?” Jessalyn sidled closer. “If Sean had arrested us, there’s no way the
Reapers would have trusted us not to talk. They would have killed us all—you as well.
Sean, too. By doing his job he was condemning us all.”

“No,” Caitlyn protested, the barrage of hidden truths exploding around her like land
mines. “No. Dad would have protected us. He would have saved us.”

Jessalyn raised a hand. For a split second as their eyes locked Caitlyn thought her
mother was going to slap her. “Your father betrayed us. He didn’t care if the Reapers
killed us all.”