“Are you sure it’s safe?” Gertie asked, studying the disappearing man. “I mean, not in a potential death sort of way—I’m good there—but if he’s a suspect, then do you want to let him know we’re onto him?”
“I have an idea about Mr. Garmon,” I said. “And I don’t think it’s what everyone else has in mind.”
I strode across the dining room and as I drew close to his table, he looked up from the paper. His eyes widened as he caught sight of me, and he placed the paper on the table as I took a seat.
“Looks like I’m not the only one tracking Sledgehammer, Mr. Garmon,” I said. “Or should I call you Officer or Detective…”
He leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Detective Price will work. I should have figured you’d make me.”
“You ran me,” I said.
“A PI shows up, asking questions about a potential homicide that my target might have been involved in, and I have to,” he said. “I was surprised to find a former CIA agent in a place like this, though. How’d you end up here?”
“That’s a long story and not one I have time for at the moment. Remember when I told you I had a friend I didn’t want railroaded over Brock’s death?”
He nodded.
“Well, that fear of mine has come to pass, and our DA isn’t so much interested in the truth as he is keeping score for his future political run.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. “But there’s nothing I can do. I told you what I knew.”
“So everything you said was aboveboard?”
“Every bit of it…even the part about the chili.”
“And you didn’t leave anything out—like that Sledgehammer was the man who argued with Brock?”
“I didn’t hedge anything…I never heard the other guy’s voice. It was just a low rumble.”
“But you saw him leaving—wouldn’t you have recognized Sledgehammer?”
“I saw a guy with a hat and a long coat flapping in the wind, in dim light and from behind. It could have been anyone. When I ran to put on pants, the chili hit.”
“Was Sledgehammer’s car in the parking lot when you got to the motel?”
“No, but I was there for a while before the arguments started.”
I shook my head. “I have to say, Detective Price, you’re not doing a great job following your target.”
A flush ran up his face. “You don’t know anything. I got the call to come after Sledgehammer the day another detective saw him leaving the state that morning. My team leader said Brock Benoit disappeared the same day and thought maybe he’d head home to hide. So he sent me here, seeing if Sledgehammer followed since he’s got Louisiana ties and would know the area. I flew in and checked into the motel before either of them arrived, figuring if Brock didn’t have someone local to stay with, he’d go as cheap as possible. Having the room next door was pure luck.”
“When did you locate Sledgehammer?”
“Not until the parade. I spotted his Mercedes leaving downtown but couldn’t get to my car in time to follow. I didn’t even know he was staying at the motel until the next morning when I saw him driving out of the motel parking lot.”
“Why didn’t you have a tracker on his car?”
“No warrant.”
I raised one eyebrow.
“Fine. No clear opportunity. If I blow my cover, we could lose three years of work. Sledgehammer had never laid eyes on me before now and I couldn’t do anything to draw suspicion.”
“And after Brock was killed? You didn’t think you should fill the local cops in on exactly who Sledgehammer was and what you think he’s doing here?”
“I called that clerk about the trouble in Brock’s room,” he said, clearly frustrated. “But I couldn’t afford to stick my neck out any further. I was only here to collect evidence, not take anyone down.”
“A man died, and Sledgehammer might have been the one who made that happen.”
“Brock Benoit didn’t matter to my superiors. Neither does Sledgehammer, for that matter. It’s Payday they’re after. But the fact that Sledgehammer stuck around after Brock died makes my superiors think there’s more to find and I agree. If I’d filled in the locals, they would have brought Sledgehammer in for questioning. And when he walked over lack of evidence, Payday would have called him right back to Nashville and any opportunity to learn what he was doing here would be gone.”
I shook my head. I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t blame him for following orders. Lord knows, I’d spent plenty of years with a set of operating parameters concerning my work. Sometimes, I’d even managed to stay within them.
“A good man is going to go down for this,” I said.
“From what I hear, he confessed,” Price said.
“He’s covering for someone,” I said. “Definitely not Sledgehammer, but someone he thinks did this. I think he’s got it all wrong.”
Price blew out a breath. “Look, if I hand Sledgehammer over to the locals right now, it will only make things worse. Sledgehammer’s new to the crew and Payday owes him no particular loyalty. Without enough evidence, Sledgehammer would drive away from questioning and right back to Nashville, where Payday would have him popped. These dealers recruit guys like Sledgehammer for a reason—they’re expendable. Why do you think he wasn’t pulled after Brock died?”
“So you’re just going to let him run loose…maybe kill someone else?”
“I didn’t let him do anything. I didn’t even know he was staying at the motel until the day after the parade. Look, if Sledgehammer caused Benoit’s head injury, then why is your guy taking responsibility?”
“I wish I knew. But you definitely heard a woman arguing with Brock after the man left?”
“Absolutely.”
“Was it RJ Rogers?”
He shrugged. “RJ Rogers was never on our radar, so I wouldn’t know her voice. Hell, I didn’t know Brock’s voice before I came here. He never hit our radar until he didn’t settle up with Payday. My focus is Sledgehammer. Brock was incidental.”
“So is Sledgehammer at this hotel now?”
He didn’t answer for a minute, then he finally shook his head. “Not that I’ve been able to determine.”
“You lost him?”
His jaw flexed. “I’ll find him again.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t do any good to ask for a courtesy call when you do.”
“I suppose it wouldn’t. I’m sorry about your guy, but there’s a lot more at stake here than one man.”
It was a somber group who made their way back to Sinful. No one spoke for the first ten minutes into the drive. In fact, Ida Belle didn’t even ask me where to go. She just started up the SUV and directed it down the highway toward home. I’d briefly considered driving up the highway to scout the other hotels between here and New Orleans, but then I figured Price had already done that. If he’d located Sledgehammer somewhere else, he wouldn’t be staying at a different hotel. It was far more likely that Sledgehammer had relocated to New Orleans. He knew the city and it was a lot easier to get lost there than out in the sticks.
Finally, Gertie broke the silence.
“So Sledgehammer is in the wind,” Gertie said.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Are you going to tell Carter about Detective Price?” Ida Belle asked.
“Why? So four of us can be angry over a situation that won’t change? Price’s superiors aren’t going to give him permission to cooperate and Carter can’t make him. And as much as we all hate it, he’s right. At this point, blowing his cover serves nothing. Brock is already dead and Price can’t positively identify either person who was in Brock’s room that night.”
“I think it was Sledgehammer,” Gertie said. “Giving Brock a reminder.”
“Then why is Cecil lying?” Ida Belle said. “It all comes back to the same round and round. Either he saw Cooper there or Gina. If we think Gina is telling the truth, then it was Cooper.”
“Do you know where Cooper lives?” I asked.
Ida Belle nodded.
“Go there,” I said. “I think it’s past time we talk to him.”
Cooper rented a small house on what used to be a large ranch. The land had been broken up some years ago when the patriarch retired. He’d remained in the main house and kept another lot with what used to be the ranch hand’s house and used it as a rental. It was a one-story cabin. Nothing fancy, but it was neat and maintained well. There were even two pots of winter flowers on the porch. Cooper’s hotshot truck was parked in front.
“Gina could do a lot worse than this,” I said.
“She could,” Gertie agreed. “Cooper is a nice young man.”
I blew out a breath. “Then let’s go see if our nice young man is a killer.”
I saw the blinds move as we approached and as we were climbing the steps, the door opened.
“I thought you were the cops,” he said.
“They’ve been here?” I asked.
“Carter was,” he said. “Put me through it pretty hard but I’ll tell you like I told him—I ain’t putting Cecil on blast.”
“We’re not here to bury Cecil,” I said. “We’re here to break him out.”
He stared at us for a bit, and I saw a tiny flicker of hope flash through his somber expression.
“Then I guess you best come in,” he said.
We followed him inside to a cozy living room with old leather furniture and a thick navy blue rug. Soft white walls made the small room look bigger and the lack of clutter helped make the space feel open. The only sign that a young single man lived here was the obscenely large television on the wall.
“You saw Brock when you delivered HVAC parts to the motel,” I said.
His eyes widened and I could tell I’d surprised him with my direct approach. He looked down at the floor, then back up at me and ran one hand over his hair.
“How’d you know?” he asked.
“It tracks,” I said, but I didn’t mention that Gina had offered up his route that day. “And I’m really good at my job.”
“You were CIA, right?” he asked. “I heard talk about you down at the Swamp Bar. Whiskey says you’re the smartest person he’s ever met. A lot of people don’t put much stock in what he says, but I know better. Whiskey ain’t no slouch in the smarts department.”
“No, he’s not,” I agreed. “So are you going to tell me the truth about what happened parade night?”
“I can’t,” he said, looking miserable. “You’re hooked up with Carter. You’ll have to tell him.”
“The way you told Gina that Brock was at the motel?” I asked.
He straightened in his chair. “No! I never told her. I wouldn’t. That piece of—he already hurt her enough. No way I’d let her know he was back around. Especially with her already struggling with RJ being back and flitting around town like she owned it again.”
“But you did tell Cecil,” I said. “And he went to the motel to confront Brock. We know that for sure. There was a witness, and his truck was caught on a nearby security camera. The question is, when your phone records come in—and I’m sure Carter’s already subpoenaed them—is your cell going to ping off a tower up the highway?”
The panic immediately set in his expression and I knew I’d hit a bull’s-eye once more.
“Tell me what happened,” I said. “I won’t repeat anything to Carter unless it gets Cecil off the hook for this. You have my word.”
“What if that DA puts you on the stand?” he asked. “You’d have to lie under oath.”
“The DA will never know we talked,” I said. “Unless you tell him.”
He shook his head. “I ain’t telling that guy nothing. Far as I’m concerned, I never saw Brock Benoit and if I was driving up the highway after the parade, it was because I was hungry or needed some Copenhagen.”
“That’s a solid plan,” I said. “No one can place you at the motel, but someone did place Cecil there. I need to know what happened. I can’t help Cecil if I don’t have all the facts.”
“What if I ain’t got them either?”
“Tell me what you do have.”
He nodded. “I told Cecil about seeing Brock at the motel when I delivered the parts. I didn’t recognize him when he walked by my truck, but then he asked the clerk something and I knew the voice.”
“Did he recognize you?” I asked.
He shook his head. “He didn’t even glance my direction and even if he had, he probably wouldn’t have known me. I was invisible to guys like Brock Benoit. After I heard him talk, I took another look, and I could see it then. Just rough, you know? So I pulled my hat down, just in case, and watched until he went into a room.”
“Then you called Cecil.”
“No. You don’t tell a man that sort of thing over the phone, and I had to make sure Gina didn’t overhear. I asked him to come by here before he went to his poker game. Said I had something super important. I’m sort of surprised he showed, but I must have sounded spooked.”
“And how did he take the news?”
“About as good as you’d expect. How would you take that news if it was your daughter Brock had screwed over? Your grandson that he abandoned and never sent so much as a dollar to support?”
“I’d be mad as hell,” I said.
“Yeah, well, multiply that times about a hundred and you got it right.”
“So you made a plan with Cecil to confront Brock? Were you planning on asking for money or just taking some blood equity out of him?”
“No! Nothing like that. We just wanted him to leave before Gina saw him. He really messed her up and we were both afraid of what that might do. If he had any inclinations of sticking around, we were going to change his mind.”
“And how were you planning on doing that?” I asked.
“Cecil was going to sic the cops on him for not paying child support. If he didn’t have the money for the support and a fine, he would have gotten jail time.”
I sat back in my chair, a bit surprised. That was an angle I hadn’t considered, and it was a smart one.
“So what happened? Did Brock refuse to leave?”
“I don’t know what happened. I was supposed to meet Cecil in the parking lot, and we were going to give Brock a warning. But while I was driving over, Cecil called me and said to go home. That Brock wasn’t there. I said we could wait until he got back, but Cecil said we’d just see about it in the morning before he got up.”
Cooper frowned, his expression shifting to worried.
“He sounded weird,” Cooper said. “I asked him what was going on, but he just said he had a headache and he’d call me the next day. Then he hung up and when I tried to call back, it went straight to voice mail.”
“So did you go to the motel?” I asked.
“No. I thought it was strange, but I couldn’t think of any reason he’d be lying to me about Brock not being there. And me confronting Brock about child support wouldn’t carry any weight. I was just going in case Brock got squirrely with Cecil.”
“What about Gina?” I asked.
He looked confused. “What about her?”
“Do you think she could have gone to the motel?”
“No! She didn’t even know Brock was there.”
“Are you sure Cecil didn’t tell her?”
“Positive,” he said, but I could see the flicker of doubt.
“Did you talk to Gina that night?”
“No. I asked her to go to the parade with me earlier that day, but she said she wasn’t about to give RJ attention along with the rest of Sinful. Said she was staying home and watching TV.”
“You didn’t go by the house?”
“She didn’t sound much like she wanted company. So I went to the Swamp Bar and didn’t leave until it was time to go meet Cecil.”
“Did you call?”
“She didn’t answer. But that doesn’t mean anything,” he said, his voice shooting up a bit. “She refuses my calls all the time. I keep pushing for more with us and sometimes she doesn’t want to hear it.”
I nodded. “Anything else you can tell me?”
“Just that I know Cecil didn’t do anything,” he said.
“Then why did he confess?”
Cooper shook his head, and I could tell he was worried.
“I don’t know.”