Blackmail (20 page)

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Authors: Robin Caroll

BOOK: Blackmail
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Would Valium do anything for the strychnine? “Is Candy-Jo right there near you?”

“Not right now. They let her in every so often and she stays until he has another spasm. What's going on? Have you heard from your brother?”

“In an offhand way.” She was choosing to believe Jon and Caleb were together and God was keeping them safe. “Keep your voice down, in case someone can overhear you. Listen, Sheriff Theriot is going to come question Candy-Jo about Deacon being poisoned.”

“Poisoned?”

“Keep your voice low, remember?”

“Okay. Poisoned?”

“Yes. I can't go into detail, right now, but he's been poisoned. And Candy-Jo's involved.”

“Oh, wow. How do you know this?”

“I can't tell you, just trust me. So don't let her leave or run, okay? Do whatever it takes, but keep her there until I make sure there's physical evidence.”

“Okay, you got it.”


Merci,
Georgia. Let me know if there's any change.”

Sadie returned the phone to Felicia, who fixed her another cup of hot tea. Sadie smiled her thanks and went onto the patio, reliving Jon's words again.

Her hands trembled until tea sloshed over the cup.

She rushed back inside, passing Felicia and Pastor sitting at the kitchen table, and stopped in the living room. She fisted her hands on her hips and stared at the FBI agent. “They should've found Jon by his GPS by now. What's the status?”

His eyes glazed over in a condescending way and he opened his mouth.

“No. Don't give me a runaround or patronize me. I want to know what's going on and I want to know now.”

He sat up straight on the couch. “Ma'am, I can tell you they've locked on to his position and are on-site as we speak.”

Her knees went weak. She eased to the arm of the chair. “They're there?”

“Yes, ma'am. I just got the information. They're surrounding the building the GPS is transmitting from.”

Ice ran through Sadie's veins.

TWENTY-ONE

“Y
ou sure she'll call the hospital?” Lance grabbed his phone back from Jon, but at least he moved the gun off Caleb.

“She'll call. Probably already has.” Jon wondered about the wisdom of slipping in his declaration of love, but if that was the last time he would be able to talk to her, he wanted her to know. Besides, Lance had seemed too worked up to notice.

“Think they'll listen to her?”

“Yes. She's Deacon's faithful employee and everybody in Lagniappe knows it, especially after all the media coverage. She'll make them listen.”

“Good.” Lance pocketed his phone and tucked the gun into his own waistband. “I hope she tells them in time.”

“I'm praying he'll be fine.”

Lance stopped moving. “You pray?”

Jon wrestled with the words. “I didn't for a long time, but I sure do now.”

“Ya some kinda religious freak?” Kinnard dared to move closer in the room.

“What's it to you if he is?” Lance shook his head. “You know, I still can't believe you did anything Candy-Jo told you.”

Kinnard moved back to his post by the door. “She was gonna tell the cops on us. I didn't have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.” Jon couldn't believe he'd spoken aloud. Both Lance and Kinnard stared at him. He wet his lips.
Might as well go down in flames if he had to go. “It's called free will. You can choose to do something you know is wrong or you can opt to do what's right, even if it's harder.”

“Like our destiny?” Lance asked.

“No, like if you want to follow the will of God or not.”

“And you listen to God?”

“I do.”

“What a load of baloney.” Kinnard shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

Lance directed his attention to his partner. “Just what would you know about it, Jack? I don't think you even know enough to argue.”

Kinnard just grunted.

Looking back to Jon, Lance visibly relaxed his shoulders. “Do you think they'll be able to save him? That we told them in time?”

“I don't know that, son. All I know is that Sadie will make them listen to her. She's that type of woman.” And his heart hurting proved how much he missed her.

“So, you're sweet on her, right?” Rats, Lance had noticed. Would he use it against Sadie, turning Jon's safety into another threat to hold over her head?

Heat warmed Jon's cheeks. “I respect and admire her, yes.”

“You said you loved her on the phone.” Lance glanced at Caleb. “I think he's sweet on your sister.”

Jon caught movement out the screen door. He glanced at Lance and Kinnard, found them staring each other down, then looked out again.

More movement. Actually, lots of it. A lot of men in black with the reflective letters on the back of their jackets. The letters FBI.

Jon didn't think he'd ever be happy to see the men in black, but he'd been wrong.

“What are we gonna do now?” Lance asked Kinnard.

“About what?”

“My father. Them.”

Jon caught Caleb's eye and nodded slightly toward the door.
Caleb wrinkled his brows. Jon nodded at the door again. Caleb followed his gaze and then his eyes went wide. He looked back at Jon.

Yes, he'd seen them. Knew what was coming.

“Maybe yer daddy will be okay.”

“He'd better be or you're as good as dead.”

Jon flexed his untied hands. He'd be able to help once the FBI made their move. He waved from behind his back to Caleb. The boy nodded, understanding.

“What about them? They know the whole story now.”

Kinnard locked stares with Jon. “Guess they have ta go.”

Lance began to pace again. “I didn't sign up for all this killing, Jack.”

“We gotta protect ourselves.”

Another flash of movement, this time much nearer to the door. Right at the base of the steps.

Jon glanced at the arguing men. Neither seemed aware of any movement outdoors. Jon stared at the nearest agent, begging him to look at him.

“Like you were when you teamed up with Candy-Jo?”

“I told ya, I didn't have a choice. She blackmailed me.”

Jon had to smile at the irony.

Finally, the agent's gaze landed on Jon's face. Jon gave a curt nod in the direction of Lance and Kinnard. The agent held up four fingers. Four men? Uh, no. Jon shook his head.

“And you didn't bother to tell me?” Lance sat on the edge of the coffee table. Surprisingly, it held his weight. “I wonder, maybe you and Candy-Jo were in this together from the beginning, huh, Jack?”

The agent held up three fingers. Jon shook his head.

“Ya can't think that. Hey, you came to me, 'member?”

Two fingers. Jon nodded.

“Yeah, but how soon after that did you start working with Candy-Jo? Immediately?”

The agent held up the gun, then two fingers. Jon shook his head.

“I already told ya, she came to me after ya did that press release.”

Lance huffed.

The gun and one finger. Jon nodded.

“What would've made her think we were involved in anything from the press release?”

“I dunno, but she found me.”

“Really, Jack? I find that hard to believe. There's no connection between you and me. I had to search hard to find someone with a big enough grudge to help me—someone with, well, let's just say a criminal past such as yours.” Lance stood and moved toward the edge of the couch. “I don't see how she would've figured out you and I were working together. How do you suppose she did that?”

Jon eased his right hand to his side and waggled his fingers at the agent. The agent nodded.

“I didn't look for her, Lance, I swear.”

“Did I say you did?” Lance took another step toward Kinnard.

“No, but sounds like that's what yer meanin'.” Kinnard moved around the coffee table, almost in front of Caleb.

The agent held up five fingers.

“Seems to me that maybe our plan wasn't moving as fast as you'd like, so maybe you went looking for her. The two of you plotted to kill my father. Maybe even frame me for the murder. Is that what you planned?”

Four fingers.

“No, nothing like that.”

Three fingers.

“Now why don't I believe you? Were you going to frame me for Daniels's murder? My father's, too?”

Two fingers.

“I wouldn't do that, Lance.”

One finger.

“Sure you wouldn't.”

The screen door burst open. “FBI, freeze!”

Lance reached for the gun in his waistband. Jon leaped off the chair, covering Caleb, and sent them both to the ground.

Shots rang out.

Jon kept his body over Caleb's head.

More shots.

He could feel Caleb trembling under him. Jon spread his arms apart on the floor to keep the bulk of his weight off the boy.

“All clear.”

Slowly, Jon rolled off Caleb and sat, pulling Caleb and the chair upright.

Smoke from the guns filled the room, burning Jon's eyes. A stench coated the small area. An agent rested a gloved hand on Jon's shoulder. “Are you okay, Mr. Garrison?”

“Fine.” He looked at Caleb, who had an agent untying his hands. The gag had already been removed from his mouth. Caleb coughed hard, then gave his silly, sideways grin. “I'm good.”

Jon stood and stretched. A breeze drifted in, clearing the smoke.

What Jon saw nearly made him retch.

 

That poor FBI agent, he hadn't known what to do with her.

Sadie sped along the road toward Fisherman's Cove on the corner side of the bayou. The most isolated side in the parish. She grinned, remembering his face when she demanded to know where they were.

Oh, he'd resisted, all right. Until she'd threatened to call Lance Wynn and tell him there was a swarm of FBI agents outside his door. The poor agent had been distraught, not sure what to do. He couldn't call Ward or Lockwood because they were on the scene. He'd finally told her the location and she knew it well.

Some odd months ago, Lance had wanted his father to use that area to erect an outpost facility and let him run it. Deacon had refused him and their strained relationship had only worsened as a result.

She'd never suspected Lance to be involved in the sabotage or the blackmail, but now she had no choice but to believe that. This area. Jon's call from Lance's phone. Information about the poisoning. What was going on?

An ambulance, siren wailing, came up behind her. She eased to the side of the road. The ambulance blew by her.

Her heart pounded erratically. There wasn't anything on this road, except the old shack where Lance had taken his father that one time to pitch his idea. Which meant the rescue had already happened and someone had been hurt.

Lord, please don't let it have been Caleb or Jon. I don't think I could take that, God.
Anything but losing one of them.

She pressed harder on the accelerator as her pulse throbbed. Panic and fear drove her faster, faster.

Turning onto the dirt side road, she could make out the flashing lights of the ambulance in front of her. The tires on her car squished over the road, slowing her progress. Frustration rubbed against her very being.

Sadie spied the ambulance ahead of her, under a massive live oak tree. Numerous solid navy cars parked haphazardly all over the place. She spun the steering wheel, jerking the car in behind the rescue vehicle. She slammed on the brakes, jammed the car into Park and opened the car door. Bright lights on stands washed a good quarter acre of a mile in their beams.

Not even bothering to turn off the engine, she ran toward the little shanty. Her heart rested in her throat.

“Ma'am, you can't be here.”

She ignored the voice and kept moving toward the cabin. Men in black windbreakers milled all over. The paramedics carried a stretcher into the dilapidated shack.

Lord, not Caleb or Jon. Please don't take them from me.

“Sadie.”

She jerked her gaze to the doorway. She rushed forward, arms wide open.

TWENTY-TWO

B
eautiful, graceful, a godly woman…and here in the flesh.

Jon raced down the stairs and took her in his arms. She felt so good, like she belonged there.

“I was so worried.” She lifted her face to his. Tears soaked the unblemished skin. “I didn't know where you were, or wh—”

“Shh.” He kissed her temple. “I'm fine.”

She jerked back. “C-Caleb?”

“Is fine. The EMTs are helping him get circulation back in his feet. He'd been sitting constantly with his feet tied in place almost since the time he'd been taken. That's a long time. He'd lost feeling.”

“I need to see him.”

Jon smiled. “Of course you do. Come on.” He led her past the agents walking around.

Two EMTs stood on either side of the boy as they began down the steps.

“Caleb!”

The boy let go of the paramedics when he heard his name. His smile widened and he made his way slowly to her.

She rushed forward and flung her arms around him. “Oh, Caleb. I was so scared for you. Are you okay? Let me look at you.”

“I'm fine, sis.” Caleb chuckled and squeezed her.

“We need to ask you some questions, Mr. Garrison and Mr. Frost.” Agent Ward held a notebook and pen.

“Can't it wait? Can't we go home and they come see you tomorrow?” Sadie asked.

“I'm afraid not, ma'am. We need to get their statements now, while everything's fresh in their mind. A man's been killed here today.”

She gasped. “Who?”

“We aren't at liberty to disclose that information right now, ma'am.”

Jon shook his head. He'd had enough of governmental red tape. So much, in fact, that he planned to resign first thing back on the job. “Lance Wynn.”

“Sir.” Agent Ward let out a heavy sigh.

“Oh, no.” Tears filled her eyes.

“Hey, don't feel too sorry for him, sis. He kidnapped me.”

She wove her arm around her brother. “I know, but he was so young. And poor Deacon…oh, this will break his heart, even though they weren't on the best of terms.”

“Speaking of Deacon, how is he?” Jon asked.

Sadie shrugged. “I haven't heard since I called the hospital and told them about the poisoning.”

“Why don't you call them now while we answer the agent's questions?” Jon squeezed her shoulder.

“Okay.” She moved toward her car.

Jon turned to Ward. “What questions do you have?”

The agent nodded at Caleb. “First, I'd like to know how they abducted you.”

Caleb turned red. “Well, Lance met me at the school as soon as classes were over. It was raining cats and dogs and he offered me a ride home so I wouldn't have to ride the bus. No one wants to be on a bus in July when it's raining and you can't let down the windows. No air-conditioning on them, you know?”

Jon leaned against the trunk of the live oak tree as the paramedics wheeled the white sheet-covered stretcher. Poor Lance, he
was
too young to die.

“And so you went with him?” Agent Ward asked.

“Yeah. I knew him from juvie, we'd hung out a couple of times since I got out, so why wouldn't I?” Caleb shook his head. “Didn't have a clue what he'd been up to.”

“Then what happened?”

“Well, I noticed we weren't heading in the direction of my house pretty quick. So I asked him where he was taking me. He said he wanted to show me something really cool.”

The agent scribbled furiously.

“I figured it was no big deal, so I was down with it.” Caleb shrugged. “And he brought me out here. I didn't think it was so cool.”

“What transpired then?”

“He showed me that tree Mr. Garrison's leaning against and asked me if I recognized it.”

“Did you?”

“No. So I asked him why I would. I mean, I haven't lived in Lagniappe very long. Why would he think I would recognize it?”

“What did he say?”

“He asked didn't I recognize it from the picture they'd sent my sister.”

Jon pushed off the trunk. He fought the urge to shudder. But just leaning there, being in the same place they'd taken Harold Daniels…

“And then I realized he was one of the blackmailers.”

“What'd you do?”

“I went to slug him, of course. And that's when he pulled the gun.” Caleb lifted a single shoulder. “He ordered me inside, tied me up, and there I sat until you guys showed up.”

Jon snapped his head up. “Wait a minute. Caleb, what gun did Lance pull on you?”

“The one he used in the shoot-out with the FBI agents.”

“That gun wasn't his. That Desert Eagle is the one Kinnard brought with him.”

“Well, he had one because he pulled it on me.”

Agent Ward turned and yelled for his partner to come over.
“Did we recover any gun but the Desert Eagle from Lance Wynn's body?”

“No, just that one. Why?”

Jon glanced at Agent Ward. “So where's the other gun?”

 

“Thanks, Georgia.” Sadie hung up the phone and looked over the area ablaze with all the lights standing everywhere. Agent Ward talked with Jon and Caleb under the big tree.

The ambulance maneuvered around her car, lights on but no siren. On their way to the morgue, no doubt. A twinge of guilt rested on Sadie. Why hadn't she sensed Lance's involvement in all of this? Maybe she could have prevented this entire tragedy.

Several cars had doors open, radios squealing from inside. Men milled about, carrying little envelopes. A couple stood next to a car or two. An occasional chuckle rose up into the air. A breeze came off the bayou, carrying the hint of fish on its wings.

One car sat off by itself, near the shack. A single silhouette darkened the interior—Jack Kinnard.

She glanced around again. Ward was busy. Most of the others moving around were either too busy or wouldn't give her the time of day. Maybe no one would notice her approach. She wanted to know
why.
Why he'd done all this. What he'd hoped to accomplish. How could it possibly have been worth two men losing their lives?

No one said a word as she picked her way around the mess to the car. Not even the cop on watch. She walked alongside the cruiser. The back windows were down against the July heat.

“Well, hello there, Ms. Thompson.”

Sadie's mouth went dry. “Mr. Kinnard, I presume?”

“You should know me well.”

Her skin crawled just being in such close proximity to the man. Never before had she felt evil radiating so strongly from someone. But she squared her shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “Why would you do this?”

“Deacon Wynn ain't nothing but a money-hungry man. He sold us workers out fer what? To make more money for hisself.”

“He was upgrading, Mr. Kinnard. What most businesses do.”

“That wasn't it. He didn't want to pay us no more. Keep all those profits to hisself, that's what he did. He deserves to die.”

The heartlessness of the man chilled Sadie's heart. “Then you'll be disappointed to know that the hospital doctors were able to treat Mr. Wynn's poisoning. He's resting comfortably now.”

Pure hatred blinked in his eyes.

“Oh, and Sheriff Theriot has taken Mrs. Wynn into custody for accessory to attempted murder.”

Fear mixed into his expression.

“Oh, yes, she's named you her accomplice. Said you came to her with the idea to kill Deacon and blame it all on Lance.”

He dropped his head in a dejected manner.

“If I were you, Mr. Kinnard, I'd start thinking of a good defense attorney. You're going to need one.”

“Ma'am, you shouldn't be over here. This is restricted.” The agent nodded toward Mr. Kinnard. “He's been arrested. You can't talk to him.”

“I've said all I need to anyway.”

The agent gave her a funny look, but she ignored him.

“Hey, you, I gotta go to the bathroom now or I'm gonna make a mess in yer car.”

Sadie shook her head at the man's audacity.

The car door squeaked behind her. “Stay over here, by the steps where I can see you,” the agent ordered.

“I need my hands, buddy.” Kinnard didn't sound one bit fazed by his situation.

She stopped, not wanting to head to the tree where Jon and Caleb still stood, answering Agent Ward's questions. Heaven forbid she should interrupt.

She could go back to her car, but she didn't want to get too far away from Jon and Caleb—not after having nearly lost them both today. Sadie smiled. Jon had said he loved her on the phone. Once she got him away from this place, she'd grill him about that.

“What th—Freeze!”

She turned toward the sound of the yell and was nearly knocked off her feet. Jack Kinnard gripped her from the side, a gun pressed to her temple. “Back off, everybody. Back off or she takes a bullet to the brain.”

 

Ice shot through Jon's veins.

“Kinnard. He has a gun. And Sadie.” He rushed forward, only to have Agent Ward grip his arm tightly.

“Let us handle this, Garrison.”

“But it's Sadie. How'd he get a gun?”

“Must've had it stashed. Whichever moron let him outta cuffs will pay later. You stay here.” Ward had already unholstered his weapon, as had all the other agents on the grounds. He lifted the radio mic on his Kevlar vest. “I want to know where and how he got that gun and I want to know now.”

Caleb moved next to Jon. “We have to save her.”

“Shh.”

Ward's radio came to life, but in low tones. “He must've had the gun hidden under the stairs. He was taken out of the car to go to the bathroom and got it then.”

Ward shook his head. He pointed at Jon and Caleb, mouthed the word
stay,
then moved forward to join the other agents advancing on Kinnard.

“Give it up, Kinnard. You're in enough trouble as it is.” Agent Lockwood crept down the stairs toward them. “You've got nowhere to go. Put down the gun.”

“Ya ain't takin' me in.” Kinnard moved backward, pulling Sadie with him. Tears glistened on her face, reflected off the lights.

Jon fisted his hands. He surveyed the area. Kinnard had to be taking Sadie to her car. It was the only possible escape route for him. “Wait here,” he told Caleb, then crouched and headed toward Sadie's car.

“Just let go of Ms. Thompson. Nobody else needs to get hurt.”

Sadie's muffled sobs nearly tore Jon's heart from his chest. He'd make sure Kinnard didn't hurt her. Finally, he made it to her car. As quietly as possible, he eased open the back door and slipped inside. He shut it with barely a click.

The lights weren't pointed in this direction. Darkness was his cover as he crouched on the backseat floorboard behind the passenger seat. If he'd guessed correctly, Kinnard would enter through the passenger door, shove Sadie behind the driver's seat and sit in the center.

The perfect location for Jon to grab him from behind and get the gun away.

“Don't come any closer or she dies. I mean it.” Kinnard's voice was loud, right outside the car.

God, please give me the strength and courage to do this and not get Sadie hurt.

“Back off, I tell ya.”

The passenger door opened. The interior light brightened the car. Jon held his breath, praying Kinnard wouldn't think to look in the backseat. Kinnard shoved Sadie into the car, pushing her behind the steering wheel. He closed the passenger-side door. Darkness returned to sit over the car's cabin.

“Please, just take my car. Let me go.”

“Oh, no, Ms. High and Mighty. You and me, we're going fer a ride. Maybe have a little fun. Ya've sure caused me enough sufferin'.”

Jon's muscles tensed. Sadie sobbed.

“Shut up. Start the car.”

Where were the agents? Were they about to make their move? Jon would hate to pop up and accidentally get shot.

“Let my sister go.”

What was Caleb doing? Jon sent him silent messages to be quiet, not to try and be a hero—ignoring his own conscience that reminded him he was doing that exact thing.

“Start the car.”

Sadie whimpered, but the car's engine hummed to life.

“Good, now put it in gear and let's get outta here.”

The car jerked.

“No.”

The brake engaged, nearly rolling Jon into the backs of the front seats.

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