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Lay Down the Law Page 13
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“Wow. That’s a heavy statement.”
“Do you disagree?”
“Not necessarily. I do think there are people with money and power who work to make the world a better place, but I agree, many don’t. I’m just not sure I’d assign criminal motives to the latter group.”
“I didn’t say rich people are criminals. Actually, I think having tough laws and strong prosecutors willing to hold people accountable helps keep people in line.”
“Interesting.”
“What?”
“It’s just…” Lily stared hard before shaking her head. “Nothing.”
“Not fair.”
“Well, your little speech just now was a very general statement, but my initial impression was this was a very personal issue. Was there a particular incident that motivated you to choose a life as a crime fighter?”
Peyton listened close, but she didn’t hear any sarcasm in Lily’s words. Crime fighter. She’d never thought of herself in those terms, and the superhero moniker seemed inappropriate. Any crime fighting she’d done had been as part of a team, not as a single caped crusader. She considered answering Lily’s question, but she ducked it instead. She looked down at her drink as she said, “I answered your question, now it’s time for you to answer mine. Tell me about your calling.”
Lily stared a while longer, as if by the sheer force of her gaze she could force Peyton to reveal deep secrets. Peyton met her gaze with a smile designed to conceal. Finally, Lily gave in. “Tell me what you want to know.”
Peyton jumped right in. “It’s no secret that your family is in the oil business. Big Oil is not overly fond of alternative fuel sources, so what was the attraction for you?”
“The planet. Future generations. My unborn children.” Lily grinned. “If you’re looking for a more mercenary reason, the truth is I think alternative energy is good business. All that stuff underground isn’t going to last forever.”
“How does your family feel about it?”
“Good question. Mother doesn’t like to talk business, so when I bring up the subject, she feigns a headache or just changes the subject. Dad, on the other hand, has surprised me.”
“How so?” Peyton couldn’t help but lean in, ready to glean whatever information she could about Cyrus Gantry.
“I gave him a prospectus—my ideas about how Gantry Oil could expand their market share and shore up additional business by diversifying into more sustainable fuel sources. Frankly, I expected him to promise to read it and then never say another word about it, but he told me tonight he’s got a meeting lined up with some investors to discuss my plans.”
Dread shuddered its way down Peyton’s spine. She’d known it was possible that Lily was entwined in the family business, but she’d hoped her only role was daughter, not business partner. Any thoughts that this meeting could possibly turn into something besides two acquaintances exchanging hellos promptly faded. She swallowed the last of her bourbon and set the glass on the table as Lily’s words replayed in her mind like tiny hammers nailing shut the door on their future. “Wait, you said he told you this tonight?”
“Yes. He left just before you came in. You probably passed each other in the lobby.” Lily placed her hand on Peyton’s arm. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Peyton mustered all the self-control she could find, certain she appeared to be acting foolish. If she’d been here seconds earlier, she would’ve seen Cyrus Gantry plotting business decisions with his only daughter, the heir to the Gantry fortune. You wouldn’t have stopped to chat then, would you?
Her thought was interrupted by her cell phone buzzing in her pocket. She started to ignore it, but a nagging sensation prompted her to drag it out and stare at the screen. She recognized the number, but couldn’t quite place it. She punched the button to answer. “Davis.”
“It’s Nelson. You said to call if we found anything about the trailer. We did.”
Peyton kept her eyes on Lily. “Where?”
“I’ll show you. I’ll pick you up.”
“No, I’ll meet you. Where are you?”
“I’m where you are. In the lobby. I’ll wait here while you wrap things up.”
Dale disconnected and Peyton stared at the phone, slowly realizing Dale knew exactly where she was and who she was with.
“Something wrong?”
Peyton looked up at Lily, reading only friendly curiosity and a touch of concern in her voice. She shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong, but I have to go.”
“Duty calls?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m sorry you have to go.”
“What?”
“I enjoyed talking to you. I’ve enjoyed every time I’ve talked to you. I think you’re a very interesting woman, Peyton Davis, and I regret we never had the opportunity for that second date.”
“Third.”
“Pardon?”
“First date was buying a truck, second date was horseback riding. We never had a third date.” Peyton had no idea what she was thinking, but the mild flirtation wouldn’t stop. She didn’t want it to.
“Third then. You know my number if you’d care to remedy that.”
Wasn’t going to happen, but Peyton couldn’t bring herself to say the words. But there was something she wanted to say, something she felt compelled to share. “Lily, don’t go into business with your father. Find other investors. Investors not connected with Gantry Oil.”
“I don’t understand.” Lily grabbed Peyton’s hand. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Peyton looked down and watched as her fingers curled into Lily’s. The touch was tender, but searing and she didn’t want to let go, but she took a deep breath and broke the connection. “I can’t talk to you about this, but for some reason I can’t explain, I trust you enough to tell you not to take this step.” Peyton edged away from the table. “Now, it’s up to you to decide if you trust me enough to take my advice.”
As hard it was, as much as she didn’t want to, she forced herself to turn and walk away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Peyton resisted the urge to look back as she walked directly to the valet entrance and out to the sidewalk in front of the hotel. She’d purposefully avoided the lobby, having decided that if Dale Nelson was worth anything as a detective she could find her out here. Truth was she was angry Dale had followed her and she planned to clear the air the minute she saw her.
But first she needed a minute. A minute away from Lily’s intoxicating presence. A minute away from the heady way Lily’s attention drew her in and made her forget her obligations.
The minute passed quickly, and suddenly Dale appeared at her side. Peyton preempted her questions with one of her own. “Where’s your truck?”
Dale pointed to a spot near the front of the valet line. “I didn’t know how long you’d be, so I asked them to hold me a spot.”
“Badge goes a long way when it comes to favors.”
Dale shrugged. “I know a guy who works here.” She walked over to the valet stand, retrieved her keys, and waved Peyton over. Peyton climbed into the truck, but waited until they were several blocks away before engaging. She didn’t pull any punches. “If you want to follow me around, why don’t you let me know? I’ll make sure to walk real slow and talk real loud so you can get all the intel you need. Or you could just ask me what I’m doing if you’re so damn curious.”
“I didn’t take you as the kind to make assumptions,” Dale said.
“I’m not.”
“Then think it through, counselor. I wasn’t following you. In fact, you were one of the last people I expected to see tonight.”
It only took a second for her words to click, and Peyton wished she could reel back her angry words and start this conversation over again. Of course, Dale had been tailing the Gantrys, not her, but that still left an unanswered question. Which Gantry had she been after? Only one way to find out. “Do you really think Lily Gantry has anything to
do with her family’s business?”
“No telling.”
“Are you always this cagey or is it just me?”
Dale pulled to a stop at a red light and looked over at her. “I don’t know you very well.”
“Well, if you want to get to know me, you’re going about it the wrong way.” Peyton considered her next words carefully. “I imagine it’s not easy accepting anyone in this position.”
Dale shook her head. The light changed and she drove through the intersection. They rode for several miles in silence, and Peyton began to wonder if Dale would ever speak to her again. After a few worthless minutes spent mentally kicking herself for making a thinly veiled reference to Dale’s wife, she tried to figure out where they were headed. They’d left downtown and were headed east on I-30, the exact opposite direction from where the trailer had been abandoned days ago. Anxious for new information, she did her best to bide her time, not wanting to engage Dale in conversation until she was ready. She tried to imagine what it must have been like for Dale to work so closely with someone she’d pledged her life to, let alone lose that person in a horrific act of violence she’d been powerless to control.
Her mind flashed to Lily. Was her father really associated with the Zetas? If so, he was putting his daughter’s life in grave danger. Those men held nothing sacred, and they exploited the very things everyone else held dear.
“I don’t have to accept you to work with you.” Dale’s low-voiced comment burst into her thoughts. There was no anger, only indifference. That was okay.
She didn’t need Dale to like her. All she needed was for her to do her job. Sure, it would be easier if they developed some sort of camaraderie. She had a ton of questions about her predecessor, and Dale was in the best position to answer them all, but she’d have to get her answers elsewhere. Best thing to do right now was change the subject. “Where are we headed?”
“Warehouse in Mesquite. It’s down the street from the body shop where the Vargas brothers ran their operation. Care to guess who owns it?”
Peyton didn’t bother answering. No sense bringing up the Gantry name and opening the door to a conversation about what she was doing at the hotel with Lily. Instead she asked, “You have a warrant?”
“Not yet. I hear there’s a small crew that works at night. Figured you and I could see if anything’s going on down there, maybe see if any of the workers care to talk.”
“And you think it’s a good idea for one cop and an unarmed lawyer to pay a visit to a crew of drug dealers?”
Dale laughed. “There’s an extra gun in the glove box if you want one. And I’m not stupid. Mesquite PD has two cars parked at the place for backup. Besides, I’m talking about two guys, max, that check in supplies for one of the Gantry subsidiaries. We’ll ask them if they’ve noticed anything going on at the shop down the way and get an opportunity to sniff around Gantry’s place while we’re talking to them. Maybe develop a little probable cause to take to Judge Nivens. Word is he’s a friend of yours.”
“You need better intel. I don’t need to be friends with a judge to get a warrant if I have the law on my side.” She took a moment to consider Dale’s seemingly not very well thought out plan. She started to point out that poking around at a Gantry facility was likely to tip both Gantry and the Vargases off that the feds suspected a connection between them. But maybe that’s what Dale was after.
It wasn’t necessarily a bad idea. It might shake things up and cause one of them to do something stupid. As long as they’re the ones doing something stupid. “If we see evidence we can use, that’s great, but I’m telling you right now any investigation I’m involved in better be by the book. I refuse to get sandbagged by a defense motion to toss out evidence. If you’re used to doing things a different way, turn around right now. Are we clear?”
Dale kept both hands on the wheel, but she turned and faced Peyton with a piercing glare. Several seconds passed before she over-enunciated her answer. “We couldn’t be more clear.”
The rest of the ride passed in silence. About twenty minutes later, they pulled into the dimly lit parking lot in front of a row of large metal warehouses. There were no signs of life in any of the warehouses save the one on the end, farthest from the highway, and a flickering light by the front entrance was the only clue work might be happening inside.
Dale stopped the truck about a hundred feet from the entrance and turned toward Peyton. “You want that gun, now’s the time to get it.”
“Why do I feel like I’m about to walk into a shit storm?”
Dale lifted one shoulder. “Look, you had a point earlier. I don’t know you, but you don’t know me either. Gellar gave strict instructions you were to be included in all task force work, even if it meant tagging along in the field. I have a gut feeling if we go in there now, talk to the grunts who’re stuck on the night shift, we might see or hear something we can use later. I’m smart enough not to do this alone, but I was also smart enough not to bring Dunley with me. I could tell you were carrying when we went out last week, so I figure you know how to handle yourself. Now, are you up for this?”
Peyton listened carefully while Dale talked, appreciating her candor. All the years she’d spent studying, carefully preparing arguments, and prosecuting high paid execs who stole from both the rich and poor had been fulfilling, but the adrenaline high she was experiencing right now was a powerful, driving force. The still vivid memory of all those dead bodies in the trailer only fueled the fire. She reached into the glove compartment and drew out the gun, pulled back the slide, and then checked the clip. “I’m definitely up for this.”
She walked beside Dale, taking her lead from her. Dale stopped a few feet from her truck, consulted her phone, and then led the way over to a nondescript sedan parked near the warehouse next to the one they were here to check out. As they drew closer, the driver’s side window lowered and a large bearded man leaned out and looked them over.
“Slow night?” Dale asked.
“Slow enough.”
Dale bent down and looked inside. As she exchanged a few words with the occupants, Peyton noted a slender blond woman seated in the passenger seat. The woman kept looking into the rearview mirror while her partner talked to Dale. Neither of them looked like cops, but she supposed that was the point. She waited until Dale finished her conversation and then followed Dale back toward the warehouse when she was done. She couldn’t help but feel the entire exchange was very strange.
“You know them?”
“Not well. They were involved in the bust that brought Carmen Chavez in. We used Mesquite PD to make the traffic stop on the car carrying the drugs. Why?”
Peyton looked back at the detectives’ car. “I don’t know. They seem pretty disinterested.”
“Not surprising. We take all the big cases away from them. The Mesquite mayor likes to make a big deal about cooperating with federal agencies, so they’re stuck working with us, but the rank and file aren’t always big on the idea. Those two seem okay to me.”
“Where’s the other car?”
“Parked around back, down the way. You want us to go size them up?” Dale’s tone told her she thought it would be a waste of time.
“No.” Peyton decided to trust Dale’s instincts since she didn’t have anything concrete to support her nagging feeling something was off. “What’s the plan?”
“Nothing fancy. Let’s go in and ask some questions. Follow my lead and keep your eyes open for anything out of the ordinary.”
“Fair enough.” Peyton followed Dale around to the back of the warehouse. One of the large loading dock doors was open and she spotted a tall, lanky man pushing a dolly loaded with boxes down the ramp of a trailer. Dale waved at him as they approached.
“Hey, you have a minute?”
The guy shot a glance up into the trailer before answering. “We’re not open for business.”
Dale smiled broadly. “It would suck if you were, right? I mean having to work this late and then d
eal with the public on top of it. That would be a gross injustice.”
The guy looked confused, but before he could say another word, another man strode out of the back of the trailer. This one was tall too, but loaded with muscles that made him about twice the size of his buddy. Neither wore uniforms. They were dressed in jeans and T-shirts and they didn’t look happy to have visitors. Dale waved at the second guy, but her friendly greeting was met with snarled words. “Private property.”
Peyton watched Dale reach into her jacket and pull out her badge, taking care to let her holster show. She held up the badge and smiled. “We’ve gotten some reports about one of your neighbors and wondered if you’ve seen anything out of the ordinary.”
The beefy guy pointed at Peyton. “This your partner?”
Dale looked over at her. Peyton may not know her well, but she knew her well enough to detect the fake smile. Dale’s voice dripped false charm. “Yep. We feds like to travel in packs.”
The guy ignored her attempt at humor. “We don’t know any of our neighbors. We have enough of our own business to deal with.” He looked over at his pal, who kept unloading the trailer as if no one else was in the room. “Right, Bob?”
“That’s right.”
The big guy crossed his arms over his chest. “See?”
Dale shook her head. “I get it. You’ve probably never crossed paths, but maybe you hear gossip? Word is the body shop down the way is a front for a chop shop. Most chop shops operate late at night, when they think no one else is around. Maybe you noticed something and didn’t even realize what you were hearing or seeing?”
Peyton barely listened to the conversation. Instead she was mentally cataloging the contents of the warehouse. Wasn’t hard. She could tell by the size this was the only room and it consisted of nothing more than bare walls and a small desk in the corner that was empty except for a clipboard bulging with sheets of well worn paper. Bob’s work buddy was stacking the boxes from the trailer along one wall. Based on the way he worked the dolly, the boxes appeared to be heavy, but nothing about the unmarked cardboard signaled their contents. What did an oil company need that would come in small, yet heavy cardboard boxes? Office supplies?