CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Michelle Doyle Ryan sat at the interrogation table, hands clasped together, trying and failing to be the picture of calm confidence. Bob Underwood sat next to her, a blue Bic pen poised over a yellow legal pad.

Jack leaned against the wall in the interrogation room while Ann sat across from Michelle and asked her questions, which Michelle stared at the corner of the room and refused to answer.

“Simon rushed ballistics on the gun we found in your dresser,” Ann said. “It was a match.”

Michelle’s eyes flicked to Ann and away. Jack knew the question for what? tickled the end of Michelle’s tongue. Instead, she clenched her jaw, and Bob Underwood asked the question.

“It’s Jack’s gun. The gun used to kill your brother and sister-in-law. And Paco Morales and Diego Vazquez. Your fingerprints were found all over the gun, as well.”

Michelle opened her mouth, closed it, then decided to break her silence. “That’s impossible. I hate guns. I haven’t touched a gun in years.”

“I’m not making this up,” Ann said. She placed a copy of the fingerprint results in front of Michelle. She leaned forward and studied the paper. When she sat back, Bob inspected it.

“I’m telling you, I’ve never seen that gun before you pulled it out of my drawer,” Michelle said.

“Yet, it was in your dresser and your fingerprints are all over it.” Ann slid the fingerprint results away from Michelle. “We have witnesses who said you wanted to organize a meet with the Pedroza cartel and who heard you threaten your brother.”

“Did you ask Kyle Grant to set up a meeting with the Pedrozas?” Jack said.

“Who are the Pedrozas?”

“We know you wanted to meet with the Pedrozas to talk truce, split up the drug trade in the county, maybe.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m vice president of the largest employer in Yourke County. Legitimate businesses that pay all of our taxes and do good in the community.”

“Grant set up a meeting, and things went south,” Jack said. “You executed Morales and Vazquez with my gun, that Grant was somehow able to get away from Vazquez.”

“That’s the stupidest story I’ve ever heard.”

“I have to agree with Michelle here,” Bob said, almost apologetically.

“Why?” Ann asked.

“Are these Pedrozas cartel?” Michelle asked.

Ann and Jack remained silent, their withering expressions of disbelief all the answer she would receive.

“Wouldn’t killing them only bring more cartel to the area? More trouble for the local organization? It’s a stupid business move and I don’t make stupid business moves. But maybe the rules are different for illegal businesses. I wouldn’t know,” Michelle said.

“Michelle,” Ann sighed, “you can stop the act. We know DI is the front from the local drug business. We have solid witnesses turning on you as we speak, and as your business crashes, more and more will come forward to save their own asses. The gig is up. We don’t care about that, anyway. That’s the Feds case. We’re here to talk about four murders.”

“Here’s the thing, Michelle,” Jack said. “Everything points to you. Evidence: the gun that killed Morales and Vazquez was found in your dresser with your fingerprints on it. Motive for the Pedrozas is easy. Dueling drug operations. But Matt was a bit tougher. Until our witness told us about Matt stopping by DI and discovered you unpacking drugs from your heavy equipment.”

Michelle clicked her long red nails on the table and studied Ann and Jack. “Kyle’s alive, isn’t he? That’s who you have in custody.” She laughed in disbelief. “He was right. Eddie’s a fucking narc.”

“We wanted to give you the chance to tell your side of the story,” Ann said. “Maybe Pigeon won’t go for the death penalty.”

“We haven’t heard any physical evidence that even put Michelle at the scenes,” Bob said. “It’s all very circumstantial, relying on unreliable witnesses and a lot of supposition.”

Michelle stared off into space, her nails clicking in a faster and faster pattern. Ann and Jack watched as Michelle calculated what to do. Bob leaned over and whispered in Michelle’s ear. She shook her head and finally said, “Shit.”

“You’re good and cornered, aren’t you?” Jack said. “On the one hand, both sides of your business are going up in flames, on the other hand, you’re the suspected murderer of four people.”

“Suspected,” Bob said. “This is a very weak case, and both of you know it.”

She leaned forward and hit the table with her fist. “Maybe if I say it enough, you people will listen. I didn’t kill any of these people! I never met with the Pedrozas. Last I heard, they turned down the meet. Kyle was going to keep trying. As far as Matt and Amy go, Dad went by Matt’s Sunday morning to talk to him. He was going to get in line. Anyway, I wouldn’t have killed my brother. I can’t even believe you would think that of me.”

“Did your father tell you Matt was falling in line?” Ann said.

“Yeah. Dad called and told me he’d talked to Matt and he’d worked everything out.”

“What time?” Jack said.

“Two? Two fifteen?”

Ann closed her file and Jack stared at the floor.

“What? Ask him! He’ll tell you.”

“We did ask him. He said he told you that you would need to move to Houston. Run your businesses from there,” Ann said.

“And you were unhappy with the decision,” Jack added.

“He’s lying.” Disbelief laced her voice. Her eyes moved back and forth as she stared at the table. Her head jerked up. “Who talked to him?”

“Miner,” Jack said.

“Miner’s being paid to feed you lies.”

“Michelle, be quiet,” Bob said.

“By whom?” Jack said.

“The company. He’ll say whatever Dad tells him to as long as we keep giving him drugs for Teresa.”

Bob sighed and leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. He capped his Bic pen, opened his briefcase, and started packing up.

“He’s lying to you,” Michelle continued. “That’s not what happened. Dad wouldn’t send me away like that. Our whole operation will collapse if I’m not there.”

Ann stood and walked around the table. “Stand up.”

Michelle looked up at Ann and shook her head in disbelief. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Evidence says you did.”

“What are you charging Michelle with?” Bob said.

“Four counts of first-degree murder, and now bribing a police officer.”

“What? Bob, I didn’t kill any of these people.”

Bob held up his hand. “What do you have besides the gun?”

“Witness testimony that says she pulled the trigger on Vazquez and Morales,” Jack said.

“That is a bald-faced lie.”

“A campaign pin found at the scene with her fingerprints on it,” Ann said.

“And, at Matt and Amy’s house?”

Ann patted Michelle on the shoulder. “Stand up.” Michelle, panicky, looked to Bob for help.

“The gun,” Jack said.

Bob shook his head. “Those murder charges won’t stick, and you know it.”

“The bribing a police officer will,” Jack said.

“Bob?” Michelle asked.

“Go on. We’ll get bail posted and have you out by tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You just admitted to bribing Miner. There’s only so much I can do.”

Her shoulders slumped. She exhaled, straightened, and stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Michelle Ryan Doyle, you’re under arrest for the murder of Paco Morales, Diego Vazquez, Matt Doyle, and Amy Doyle, and for bribing a police officer,” Ann said.

“Someone is setting me up,” Michelle said, panic creeping into her voice.

“Who?” Jack said.

“Kyle Grant.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, because Eddie was replacing him?” Michelle said.

“Personally or professionally?” Jack said. When Michelle narrowed her eyes, Jack continued, “Yeah, Kyle told me you were fucking him, too.”

“He hated Eddie. Something to do with Kyle’s father in prison. I don’t know. That’s why he was so mad about me and Eddie.”

“So, Kyle killed Matt and Amy because he was jealous?” Ann asked.

“Yes.”

“Try again,” Ann said. She grasped Michelle’s elbow and propelled her toward the door. “He was driving west with Eddie McBride when Matt and Amy were killed.”

“Then he’s working with someone.” Michelle pulled against Ann’s grip, which only made Ann use more force. “You’re hurting me.”

“Stop fighting or I’ll cuff you.”

“Hang on,” Jack said. He stepped forward. “Who would hate you so much they would set you up for four murders?”

Jack could smell Michelle’s terror. Her eyes rolled around the room, as if searching for the culprit in the corners. “Brian Grant!” she said triumphantly. “Because I made Matt use another contractor.”

“The Pedrozas were killed before Brian knew.”

“His brother did. Kyle. They’re in on this together. How can you not see it?”

“How would Brian, or Kyle, plant the gun in your house?” Ann said.

“And get your fingerprints all over it.”

Michelle was searching for a plausible answer.

“Michelle, stop,” Bob said. “You’ll be out of jail in twenty-four hours, tops.”

“But I’ll miss my brother’s funeral.”

Ann led Michelle out of the room, still reciting the warning. Michelle called over her shoulder, “I didn’t do this. McBride, I’m going to destroy you when this is all over!”

Jack turned to Bob. “You know, you could have waited until after the funeral,” Bob said. “The town won’t forgive you for that.”

“I’m here to do a job, not to win a popularity contest. My job is to solve crimes and stop crime when I can. I call arresting someone for four murders and playing a role, though small, in the search of the front of a suspected crime organization a pretty fucking good day at the office.”

“Well, when you get fired, you can come work with me. Shirley is on me about retiring, and she’s about convinced me.” He opened his briefcase and took out a folded legal document. “Your divorce papers.”

Jack pulled out his phone. “I have an audio file to send you. For our case.”

Bob raised his eyebrows. “Should I be alone when I listen to it?”

“Nothing like that. But it’s not good for Julie.”

With a weary sigh, Bob patted Jack on the shoulder and walked down the hall to take care of his client.

Jack’s phone vibrated with a text from Ellie.

-Eddie isn’t here, nor does it look like he’s been here.

-Thanks for checking. I’ll call you later.

-K

He was putting his phone back in his pocket and adjusting his bullet-proof vest beneath his shirt when his phone rang. “McBride.”

“Who’s Brian Grant?” Tom Hunter said.

“Kyle Grant’s brother. He was a suspect in the Doyle murders but he’s been ruled out. Why?”

“Got a call from Segoville. Some dumbass let Grant make a call.”

“And he called Brian.”

“Looks like it. Have you talked to Eddie?”

“No. I’ve been trying to get in touch with him since last night. You?”

“No. We’ve tried to track his phone but it must be turned off or dead.”

“Is there a blue and white ’69 Ford in the parking lot?”

“Yeah. Damn nice truck.”

Jack tried to ignore the stab of fear in his chest. “It’s Eddie’s.”

Tom Hunter didn’t reply for a moment. “Shit.”

“Is Miner there?”

“Yeah. Talking to Doyle. They look awfully cozy.”

“That cozy relationship gave us Michelle Ryan’s motive. Pull Miner away and tell him to find Brian Grant. I’m on my way back to Stillwater.”