CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

At first glance, Doyle Industries parking lot looked like it did on any other business day. Upon closer inspection, the cars parked in front of the buildings weren’t minivans, trucks, and sedans, but crime scene vans, generic black Suburbans that could only be government issue, sheriffs’ cruisers, DPS cars, and a lone Stillwater PD Tahoe.

Miner got out of his truck and inspected the scene. Men and women in FBI and DEA windbreakers huddled together drinking steaming cups of Abe’s coffee and grimacing. They either hadn’t discovered Ellie’s coffee shop or were out here before she opened. Miner chuckled to himself; Ellie was one of the few people making out like a bandit from all the crime.

Miner ambled up to the group of agents. A DEA agent with a barrel chest and close-set eyes took Miner in from his Stetson to his cowboy boots and, by the wry expression on his face, slotted Miner in the bumpkin category.

“Miner Jesson,” he said, holding his hand out.

“Oh, right! Jack’s mentioned you. Tom Hunter.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“This is Special Agent Alex Dunne with the FBI.”

A female agent with startling green eyes and a knowing smile held out her hand. “Deputy.”

“Hunter,” the DEA agent said into his phone. “What?” He walked a few feet away.

“Sergeant, actually,” Miner said.

“Sergeant Jesson.” A strawberry blonde braid fell across Agent Dunne’s left shoulder from beneath the loose-knit toboggan she wore. “Mr. Doyle’s been asking for you.”

“For me.”

She nodded. “When he’s not cursing McBride.”

“Where is he?”

With the hand holding her coffee, Dunne pointed behind Miner. Joe Doyle sat in his Ford about thirty feet away.

“Excuse me.”

Miner walked around to the driver’s side. Doyle rolled down the window. Waves of anger emanated from him. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

“This is a federal operation. How would I know about it?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Miner. No way the Feds raid a local business without telling the local cops.”

Miner shrugged. “They may have told Jack, but he didn’t mention it to me. What did the warrant say?”

“Which one?”

Miner raised his eyebrows.

“There’s one for physical evidence of the intent to sell drugs and another for our financial records.”

“Hmm.”

“Hmm? That’s the best you can do? Where the fuck did they get their information, huh? And why are they raiding on the day of my son’s funeral?”

“Well, to the former, I can tell you they have someone in custody who’s feeding them information.”

“Who?”

Miner scratched his chin and looked away. He and Jack had gone over exactly what to divulge to Doyle, but he still didn’t feel right about it. Jack was taking a couple of pretty big gambles on interpersonal relationships and human nature. “Kyle Grant.”

Doyle clenched his jaw and exhaled. He stared out at the front door of his business. An FBI agent propped open the doors and stood aside as other agents walked out the front door with computers.

“Fucking Eddie McBride.”

“Joe, I need to ask you a question.”

Doyle glared at Miner. “Do you.”

“Witnesses say Michelle called you Sunday morning and told you about Matt discovering the operation. Is it true?”

Doyle nodded.

“And you said you’d go straight over to talk to him.”

Doyle returned his gaze to his company being dismantled before his eyes. “Yes.”

“What time did you go over to Matt’s?”

“One-thirty.”

“How long were you there?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“What happened?”

“I lied to him. I lied to my boy. He was going to leave, to move away, back to Tyler to work with Sterry, or Houston to be near Amy’s mother. I couldn’t have that. I told him I didn’t know anything about what Michelle was doing and that together we’d fix it.”

“Did you mean any of it?”

“No.” He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and stared straight ahead, his brows furrowed as if calculating. Finally, he said, “I called Michelle and told her it was time to move the operation permanently. She would move down there and run it from Houston.”

“How’d she take the news?”

“Dead silence. But I knew she would come around eventually. She’s always done what I wanted her to do.”

“Why didn’t you mention your conversation with Matt to Jack when he interviewed you?”

“I didn’t see anything, and they were alive when I left. I couldn’t risk Jack finding out about the drug operation.”

“Well, the jig is up now.”

Doyle watched more agents with computers file out and nodded.

“You haven’t asked about Michelle,” Miner said.

“If it wasn’t for Michelle and all of her fuck-ups I wouldn’t be watching the Feds raid my business.”

“You realize you’re giving McBride Michelle’s motive for killing Matt and Amy,” Miner said.

Doyle continued drumming his fingers on his steering wheel and stayed silent.

“She’ll be charged with four murders, Joe.”

“I know.”