Haley was screaming, but not quite hysterical. In a second or two, Sam had made a calculated decision. He wouldn't kill Frick in cold blood or kidnap him. But since Sam's own pistol was now a murder weapon, it was time to go.
Haley was still shrieking. Taking her by the arm, he led her to her car.
'Wait here,' he said, putting Frick's own cuffs on him. The keys to the cuffs were on Frick's key ring and he promptly hurled all the keys into the trees. Then he half-ran, half-hobbled, his bad leg aching, to the building as best he could. Right at the door he met Detective Ranken. For a second the officer stared, obviously trying to determine why Sam was headed toward the building. Sam punched him to double him over, grabbed his hand in a disabling hold, and drew his pepper spray.
'No,' the officer choked as the noxious stuff went in his eyes and down his throat.
It was an unusually bad reaction; Ranken curled up in a ball, focusing on nothing but the next breath and the fire in his eyes. It was an unfortunate way for Sam to continue the afternoon, but the worsening situation required that he access Ben's office. It took only seconds to gather up all the whale papers on Ben's desk, then a minute or more to get back to Haley's car.
Haley was talking to herself softly, asking why Frick did it. Tears were running down her face.
'Haley, I need you to focus on saving Ben and put everything else out of your mind until that job is done.'
She managed to stop rambling and accepted a tissue.
'Crew was my friend,' she said after a moment.
'When we get done with this, we will mourn your friend.'
'How many times have you had to do this?'
Sam started the car and accelerated rapidly.
'Too many. I'm calling a friend in the FBI.' Sam flipped open his cell phone and called Special Agent Ernie Sanders's personal cell phone.
Ernie answered on the first ring. 'What the hell are you doing not calling through the office?'
'I have a real problem.'
'You're supposed to be resting on a quiet island and learning about nature.'
'Supposed to, yeah.'
'So you took on another job?'
'Actually, the job is taking me.'
'What's up?' Ernie sounded concerned.
'A bad cop, the guy you looked up for me, one Garth Frick, just fatally shot a good cop, a local deputy. Frick's trying to frame me and a young lady.' Sam went carefully through the part of the story Ernie had not yet heard, ending with his best guess at the situation: Haley, Ben, and he were now serious threats to Frick and the Sanker Corporation, and Ben's valuable research was the motivating item.
As he spoke to Ernie, Sam decided on a destination: Haley's house, which was an easy walk to Ben's.
'How the hell can you get into something like this just kicking back?' Ernie asked.
'Trouble always finds me, I guess.'
'Sanker is a legitimate business, isn't it?'
'Don't know,' Sam said. 'But Garth Frick's as bent as you hinted.'
'How much does it look like you did it?'
'Superficially, a lot.'
'But forensics will support you?'
'Forensics may or may not help, but the truth is the truth.'
Emie sighed. 'You know I can't jump in and take over a local murder investigation, especially in a matter of hours. Let's see… to get federal involvement, you could file a civil rights complaint. Even then we'd have to follow procedures.'
'You can call the local dispatcher and get one of the sheriff's deputies on the phone. Tell him it's crucial not to let Frick control the evidence,' Sam proposed.
'I'll try, but I'm afraid it's a long shot. Had you considered just turning yourself in to the staties?'
'I'm on an island, Ernie. There are no state police, and Frick's running the locals.
Sheriff's gone, undersheriff too. I'm guessing the timing's no coincidence. That's why they took Ben Anderson this weekend.'
Emie said nothing for a moment. 'That could be a problem.'
Frick's head hurt, and his face had taken some serious damage. His jaw was swelling out of control, but his mind was clear despite the pain. He made his way down the hall of the main office building and lab complex, hands still cuffed, headed for Ben Anderson's office. Jim Ranken walked along, helping to steady him, his pepper-sprayed face red, his eyes looking horrible and still runny. Frick's hands were still cuffed behind his back and he swore unremittingly about the whereabouts of the bolt cutters.
Supposedly there was a spare set of keys to the cuffs in the glove box of Frick's car, but they weren't there. An officer finally arrived with bolt cutters large enough to cut the tempered steel.
It had been almost thirty minutes; Ranken seemed to be breathing again.
'Make sure every available man's out looking for Haley Walther's car,' Frick said.
'They are. I think maybe…'
Ranken seemed to be struggling for words and it irritated Frick.
'Spit it out.'
'Maybe we should call the state attorney general.'
'What the hell is the AG gonna do on a holiday weekend? Nothing. We've got two detectives working and about a dozen deputies.'
'The AG could give us advice,' Ranken said. 'They could bring in the state police.'
'I'm not gonna have the state police screwing up this investigation before I get the foundation laid.'
'But we always-'
'I know what we always do,' Frick said. 'And I know why we're gonna wait until Monday to do it. In the meantime I can round up a bunch of cops from the mainland and some off-duty state police to help out.'
'I–I don't think the sheriff ever conceived of a situation w-where you would be in charge of full-time regular deputies,' Ranken stammered.
'Let's review.' Frick's words came out like bullets. 'A special deputy has whatever powers the sheriff confers. In my case I have full powers. This is logical because I'm an ex-homicide detective. Further, all Sanker matters are assigned to me. This involves a Sanker scientist disappearing from the Sanker facility. Two-oh-one would be next in charge after the undersheriff. He called dispatch and said I was in charge until he returns. So what don't you understand?'
'But you were involved in a shooting,' Ranken said. 'Crew's dead, for God's sake. And how are you getting off-duty cops in here that fast?'
Frick stopped cold, realizing he was going to have serious trouble with Ranken. 'What the hell are you saying?'
'I'm saying you… we are parties to this shooting. You're a material witness. We can't just continue to pursue this case alone. Another jurisdiction should be keeping the evidence, not us. That's procedure. Bringing in outsiders to work for us is not.'
Frick got directly in Ranken's face. 'Robert Chase killed a San Juan deputy! You want me to stop pursuit of a murder suspect?'
'I'm just saying-'
'You heard Sergeant Finley on the phone. It's my investigation and that's an order. Go outside and help get it done.'
'You're not going to take those papers from Anderson's desk without a warrant, are you?'
'I'm gonna take any damn thing we need.' Frick realized he was losing it. He stepped back. He needed to be careful. 'I'm going to follow the law, Detective. Now get the hell outside and help.'
Ranken did as he was told, but he had Frick worried. Frick was pretty sure Ranken had questions about who had really shot Crew. He might have even seen part of the scuffle.
