Blue Bloods of Bois D’Arc (22 page)

Chapter 50

Two weeks later

It was almost midnight on a weeknight in the small town of Farmdale about ten miles from Bois D’Arc. Two men were huddled in the rear corner booth of a smoky beer hall called Roscoe’s. The waitress, who looked older than her years, took their order: Two Lone Star longnecks, championed by locals as the National Beer of Texas. When she returned, there was an agitated conversation that could be heard coming from the booth over the clack of billiard balls. When she approached, the two men clammed up.

As soon as the waitress was out of earshot, Jones took a long pull of his Lone Star and said, “I can’t do this anymore.” He was a ruddy-faced man in dirty work jeans, greasy shirt, cowboy boots, and a Texas Rangers baseball cap. His voice was too loud for the liking of the man sitting across from him.

The taller man, who looked like he had just walked off of a western movie set, wore a black leather version of the old western duster and black cowboy boots. A string tie matched his black western shirt and jeans. A black Stetson hat was pulled down on his forehead so his face couldn’t be seen in the dimly lighted bar. He quickly rose up and strode over to the jukebox next to their booth. He scanned the large number of mostly country songs on the machine and fed enough quarters into the slot for the loud music to protect their conversation from possible eavesdroppers. The man in black returned to the booth and spoke sharply to Jones.

“Now quiet down, you idiot. You want somebody to hear you? I’ve made it worth your while so far. What’s the problem now?”

“The company’s coming down hard on everybody because of the
accidents
. They’re watching us like hawks. I can’t afford to lose my job. I have a family to feed and bills to pay. It’s getting too risky . . . I want out,” Jones said bluntly.

The twangy strains of Merle Haggard’s
Everybody’s Had the Blues
blared from the jukebox and drowned out the voices in the corner booth.

Livid at Jones’s whining, the man in black reached across the table, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him over the table. “We have a deal and I’ve paid you and your buddies well to derail that contract. You
are
going to finish the job and bring the customer down on that company to pull the contract. Do you understand?” He spoke forcefully between clenched teeth, then shoved Jones back into his seat. “Just remember, I know where you live.”

“But they’re watching us every minute. We’ll get caught. Please, I’ll give the money back. Don’t make me do this,” Jones begged.

The man in black strained to keep his voice down when he said, “It’s not about the money. I want the company to go down. And I want Rod Miller destroyed.” He reached inside his coat pocket, pulled out a thick white envelope, and slid it across the table. “Here’s your next payment. If you make it happen before Christmas, you’ll get a ten-thousand-dollar bonus.”

Chapter 51

A family Christmas

It had been a rough and eventful year for Rod with his marriage to Cass and the growth in RJ Systems after they landed the Saudi contract. Christmas had crept up on Rod and Jack, who had to play catch-up in a short time.

Their new house was finished and Cass was busily furnishing and decorating her dream house. The four-thousand-square-foot house would rival the display windows in the Neiman Marcus store in Dallas. While Rod put in long hours at work, Cass busied herself with the Christmas decorations at home.

A brightly decorated Christmas tree in every room in the house matched a Christmas theme, different in each room. And under each tree were beautifully wrapped gifts for each member of the two families. The distinctly western ranch-style house had a large fireplace in the den with a massive mantel above it. Suspended above the mantel was a miniature Santa with his reindeer driven sleigh flying across a background of starlit sky. The tiny model village nestled below quietly awaiting Santa’s visit to their darkened homes.

The sound system played Christmas carols softly throughout the house. Not so typical was the large bathroom suite adjoining their oversized master bedroom. A white tree decorated with nothing but silver balls stood in the center of the open floor surrounded by mirrored walls. The only other decorations were sprigs of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling, including the walk-in shower with multiple showerheads. A concerted effort by Cass to attract Rod to come home early more often. His marriage to the company was causing problems in his marriage to Cass, who was demanding more bedroom time from her busy husband.

It was Cass and Rod’s first Christmas together, and she wanted it to be perfect. Both families were invited to begin a yearly Christmas tradition at their new home. All day on Christmas Eve, Margaret and Mary Virginia helped Cass prepare the Sunday Christmas dinner at Cass and Rod’s home featuring a twenty-pound turkey with all the trimmings.

But, Sunday morning found the two families and Jack Workman, who was always included, gathered at the Worthington home for a banquet of a breakfast. It was the first time the two families had shared a breakfast meal together. Essie had prepared a meal of her own recipes and Worthington family favorites, including Eggs Benedict on flaky homemade croissants topped with poached eggs, diced chicken, and hollandaise sauce, a broccoli and mushroom dish, and
all the Colombian coffee they could drink.
After devouring the sumptuous breakfast, they all attended the morning worship service at the Bois D’Arc Methodist Church featuring a Christmas cantata.

The family grew even larger that afternoon when Rod’s sister Jessica and her fiancé, Renaldo Cortez, arrived, followed by their younger brother Mark and his new girlfriend, Melissa Collins, who drove in from Dallas. Introductions were made all around and as was typical in Texas, the men congregated around the snack table loaded with appetizers: cheese balls, chips, salsa, spinach dip, candied almonds, jalapeno poppers, miniature enchiladas, Essie’s special deviled eggs, and sweet-and-sour meatballs. Margaritas, wine, and beer were the libations of the day. Football conversation was enlivened by more alcohol than food.

“I’m sorry your Cowboys lost the division playoff to the Rams, Rod, but my Aggies had a ten and two season,” Jack said. “They play the Florida Gators in the Sun Bowl. Should be a good game. If we can get things settled at the plant, I might just get some of my old Aggie buddies together and hop a flight down to El Paso.”

“Sounds like a fun trip. Yeah, I thought the Cowboys were going all the way this year. It was a tough loss, but I had mixed feelings. I honestly wanted TJ’s Rams to pull it out at the end. Man, what a game. Tomorrow’s game is going to be a different story. It’s predicted to be ten degrees tomorrow for the Vikings game. That’ll be tough on the Rams—they love that California sunshine. I know TJ wasn’t looking forward to playing on a frozen field in that kind of weather.”

About the time the men ran out of football games to talk about, the ladies came into the room from the kitchen. They had been visiting around the kitchen table after all the side dishes were prepared and the only thing left was the turkey to finish baking in the oven.

“Only a few more minutes before the turkey comes out—everything else is ready,” Cass announced. “You men pull some more chairs in here so we can all get better acquainted with my new sister-in-law’s fiancé and Rod’s little brother and Melissa.” She chuckled. “I truthfully can’t say that anymore, since Mark is a foot taller than Rod. I’m sure the streets of Dallas will feel safer when you graduate from the police academy, Mark.”

Melissa explained that she was in training to be a dental hygienist, and she and Mark would graduate about the same time. She already had a job lined up and was looking forward to her new career. She left out the fact that she and Mark had been living together for six months.

Jessica regaled the gathering with the priceless things fourth graders said in her class. She told them about a little boy’s gross comment that had them all in stitches. “He said, ‘
We should have hot dogs more often in the cafeteria. When I eat them for lunch, I burp and taste them all day so I don’t ever get hungry.’”

Renaldo said he was eager to finish law school and start paying off his college loans.

“How would you like to come to work at RJ Systems when you graduate?” Rod asked. “We can always use good legal advice.”

“I appreciate your kind offer, Rod, but I’m going into criminal law and hope to be a judge someday.”

“That’s great. We always need good judges. I wish you well in your career.”

The time passed quickly in the relaxed atmosphere that made them all feel they had known each other for years. The oven timer sounded, and everyone filed into the dining room. When all the food was brought in with the turkey, the long table Rod had teased Cass that they’d never use suddenly looked much smaller with all the family members seated. The dinner looked like a king’s banquet. When everyone was settled, Cass stood next to Rod at the head of the table and tapped her water glass with a fork to get everyone’s attention.

“Rod, you get the honor of carving the turkey, but first I want to make a toast. Lift your glasses to the first Christmas dinner of many more to come. This is a day I dreamed of most of my life, but wasn’t sure it would ever happen. Here’s to the best families in the world,” Cass said, her eyes glistened with tears as she and Rod clicked their wineglasses.

Rod leaned over, gave her a tender kiss, and said, “You’re the love of my life.”

He stood up to carve the large bird like a true chef and served everyone’s plate. The clinks of knives, forks, and serving spoons against the Grasmere china filled the room as everyone dug into the many tasty dishes.

Rod took his first bite of turkey. “Umm, Cass this is delicious. Eat up everyone, please, or we’ll be eating leftovers of this big bird all next week . . . just kidding. It’s the best I’ve ever eaten and I hope we have plenty left over.”

“I cannot tell a lie,” she responded with her own brand of humor. “Mom did everything except the basting. That was—”

A piercing ring of the nearby kitchen wall phone interrupted Cass. She scowled at Rod, clearly signaling him not to answer that phone. It rang a second time, seemingly with more urgency than the first.

“I’m sorry, Cass,” he said, “but I
have
to get that—please excuse me, everyone.”

Jack strained to hear the conversation to no avail, but he could tell from Rod’s tone of voice it wasn’t good. When Rod returned to the dining room, he looked as if all the blood had drained from his face.

“What’s wrong?” Cass asked.

“I’m sorry, but Jack and I have to leave. There has been a fire at the plant,” Rod said in a shaken voice.

“What? When will you be back?” Cass bristled. Rod had spent many nights working late since they won the Saudi contract, and now this. It was too much. “Can’t someone else take care of it? You have a family to think about and you’re going to have to decide who you care for the most, me or the company,” she said. Their families sat in shocked silence.

“I’m so sorry. Can’t we discuss this later?” He gave Cass a pleading look for understanding. But didn’t get it.

Jack stood up. “Rod, you stay here with your family. I’ll go see what happened and get back to you. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve enjoyed a wonderful day with you all.” Jack nodded to them and turned to leave the room, feeling embarrassed for Rod.

“Wait for me, Jack,” Rod called after him. “I can brief you on the way.”

When he tried to give Cass a quick kiss, she turned her face away. Rod promised not to be late coming home. But it sounded all too familiar to Cass, just like her marriage to Roger. She sank into her chair and pushed the food around on her plate for the rest of the dinner. Opening gifts afterward without Rod would be no joy for her.

Chapter 52

A Christmas tragedy

Jack and Rod were waved through the front gate at fifty miles an hour. Rod’s Mercedes slammed to a stop in front of hangar number four where one of the Saudi’s Boeing 747 aircraft was being modified. The company fire department was present with all hands on deck. The foam truck and two pumpers were inside the hangar, and a tall ladder truck was on standby outside the hangar. The fire was extinguished in a matter of minutes by the well-trained fire team. Safety Engineer Gene Sadler and Security Chief Cal Johnson, a retired FBI agent, met them as they walked briskly toward the smoke-filled hangar. The group hurried through the mammoth hangar doors and into the hangar that soared ten stories high. They stopped below the blackened outer skin surrounding the hole where the fire had burned through.

“Cal . . . Gene, what happened? Was anyone hurt? How much damage did the fire do?” Jack fired in rapid succession.

“There was an alleged electrical short that caused the fire.” Sadler paused and cleared his throat before he said, “I’m sorry, Jack, one of the technical team members was killed.”

“What’s his name?”

“Homer Jones,” Johnson said. “It’s not clear whether he was electrocuted or died in the fire. An autopsy will have to tell us that.” He tilted his head in the direction of a cluster of uniformed police officers. “The local police are on site, Jack, but let me finish briefing you before we talk to them. Company Fire Chief Greg House hinted of possible arson after he’d inspected the fire scene. If there is enough evidence pointing to arson, I strongly suggest we call in the FBI. This is a foreign customer and I don’t believe the locals are equipped to deal with this situation.”

“I agree,” Jack said. “If you still have contacts in the FBI, call in some favors, whatever it takes. Call the gate and don’t let any reporters on the site. If they complain, tell them they don’t have proper security clearances. I don’t want this turned into a media circus. The Feds have the manpower and experience in cases like this. Report back to me ASAP.”

“Here comes the Bois D’Arc police chief now,” Johnson said to Jack.

“Sorry about your loss, Jack,” Chief Craig Meacham said as he approached the group huddled beneath the damaged aircraft. “My office will conduct a full investigation,” he informed Jack. “I’ve assigned Detective Jason Cromwell and our forensic guy Martin Short to the case.”

“I appreciate that, Chief. This will have to be handled by the FBI. But they will need access to your people for help from time to time. I hope your people won’t mind working with the FBI. This being a sensitive international customer and all, they have to be called in to lead the investigation. You understand our situation, right?”

“Of course, not a problem. We can work with the Feds. Whatever you need, Jack, just let me know. Maybe my guys will pick up a few tricks from the Feds.”

“Thanks, Chief. We’ll secure the scene until the FBI gets here, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing. I’ll have my guys stand by until you call and say the Feds are here. In the meantime, I’m going home to finish my Christmas dinner.” The police chief returned to his squad car and drove away.

Rod stayed in the background and marveled at how Jack took charge of a terrible situation and immediately got everyone on the same page. He absorbed every move and decision Jack made to prepare for when his time came. After an hour, the situation was well in hand, and Jack motioned Rod away from the crews taping off the secured aircraft.

“I think we’ve done all we can do here tonight,” Jack said. “I’m going up to the office and review the security tapes and see if they tell us anything. Why don’t you go on back home and have a nice evening with your family? There’s nothing for you to do here.”

“Sure there is,” Rod said. “I can help you review those tapes. Two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“I can handle it by myself. Go home and patch things up with Cass before it gets any worse. We’ll talk later. Now get out of here.”

“Okay, Jack. Oh, by the way, Merry Christmas.”