?The night Tim died, you made a point of telling me you were the chief law enforcement officer of the city. So why does your police chief think the last thing you want him to do is make progress on any of these investigations??
Shad folds his hands together and leans back in his chair. ?Chief Logan and I don'?t always see eye to eye. That'?s no secret.?
I stand and put my hands on his desk, then lean over him. ?I'?ll tell you why I'm here. Right now, Jonathan Sands thinks I have a certain item that Tim Jessup stole from the
A USB thumb drive. But
know I don'?t have it. Don?t you??
The district attorney?s face remains impassive. Shad is good in a courtroom, and he?d be a hell of a poker player, though I hear he prefers bridge. While he ponders my statement, I glance over at his Wall of Respect. One photograph draws my attention. It shows a huge boar hog, probably five or six hundred pounds, hanging by its hind legs from a hoist. Shad stands on one side of the hog, while on the other, wearing a bright orange jersey with the number 88 on it, stands a tall black man with a hunting rifle lying across his muscular forearms.
?I didn't know you were a hunter, Shad. I thought bridge was your game. Or the odd set of tennis.?
Johnson regards me with silent hatred.
?Is that Darius Jones?? I ask. ?The wide receiver for San Antonio??
?You know it is.?
?Was that photo taken around here??
Shad shifts in his seat. ?On DeSalle Island. Hunting camp.?
DeSalle Island lies farther downriver than we paddled last night, almost to Angola Prison, but it?s exactly the kind of remote spot in which Sands has been holding his dogfights.
?I think I?'ve got the picture,? I say quietly. ?Darius win any money on the dogs??
?On the what??
I give Shad a knowing look. ?I guess it doesn?'t matter. Darius has got it to lose, right? Long as he doesn?'t get caught.?
?You?re wearing out your welcome, Cage. I don'?t know anything about any computer drive.?
I lean farther over the desk, into Shad?s personal space. ?I know you have it. You?re the only person who could. You had Tim?s cell phone. You heard the voice memo he made before he died. And somehow you got into the morgue?or got someone to go in there for you?and you got that drive. You want to dig into dead men?s asses for fun and profit, that?s your business. But I need that drive. If I don'?t have something to trade for Caitlin, they'?re going to kill her. Do you read me, Shad??
The district attorney remains stone-faced.
?I think I know where you are on this,? I say, trying to help him along. ?You think that drive is your ace in the hole, if everything goes to hell. I don'?t know how badly compromised you are, or what Sands has on you. But you need to figure out which side you?re on. Because if you give me that drive now, I'?ll make sure you stay out of trouble when the wheels come off of this deal.?
?I have no idea what you?re talking about,? Shad says evenly. ?But even if I did, you don'?t have the power to offer anybody any kind of deal?certainly not immunity from prosecution. I'm the DA, Cage, and I could jail you for assault right now, based on what I saw five minutes ago.?
I want to snatch Shad up from his chair and bang his head against the desk, but that?s not going to get me the drive. I?d find myself in the county jail in short order, and it?s right across the street.
?Shad, there?s a federal investigation going on in this county, and my guess is you don'?t know a thing about it. Or if you do, you only
know enough to make your asshole pucker. When the feds don'?t tell you they'?re on your turf, it?s bad news for you. So, I repeat, you need to decide which side you?re on. And the best way to prove you?re on the right one is to give me that drive.?
Shad gives me a tired smile. ?I think we?re done here.?
I make no move to leave or even straighten up. ?After I leave, you might be tempted to destroy that drive. I could see the logic of it, from your point of view. But that would be a mistake. You?re going to need a friend when this blows up. And if Caitlin dies because you didn't give it to me, I'?ll hound you right into Parchman, I swear to God. You?ll have a cell right next to Sands.?
There?s a sudden rush of heavy footsteps outside, and then someone pounds on Shad?s door. I jump to my feet and open the door, expecting to see Paul Labry making another plea for forgiveness. But it?s Mitch Catton, a deputy from the sheriff?s department, and he?s breathing hard.
?What is it, Deputy?? Shad asks calmly.
?Paul Labry was just killed in a car accident!?
?What??
?He hit a bridge abutment. Must have been doing seventy, at least.?
?Was anyone else hurt?? I ask.
?Nope. One-car accident. There was an empty bottle of vodka in the car too. Sally, over to the clerk?s office, told me Mr. Labry?d been hanging around here all during lunch. Said he smelled like a liquor cabinet.?
I look down at Shad, my eyes filled with foreboding.
?Thank you, Mitch,? Shad says. ?Mayor Cage and I need to finish our conversation.?
?Okay, sorry. I just figured you?d want to know. I mean, is there anything special we should do because it?s a selectman??
?No, just follow your normal procedures.?
Catton stares at us in puzzlement for a few seconds, then shuts the door and bangs down the stairs.
?This town is under siege,? I say softly. ?And the biggest threat always comes from within. Don?t kid yourself that you can come out of this clean. Not without me. I don'?t know if Paul committed sui
cide or if they killed him, but when this is all over, there?s going to be a reckoning. Pick your side, Shad. Fast. That thumb drive is your only get-out-of-jail-free card. You know how to reach me.?
?Get out of my office.?
I hold up my forefinger and point at him, my eyes burning, then turn and go.
CHAPTER
54
