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“Apparently, Bickel has a cousin who works as the state coordinator for the 1033 Program,” Peters told them. “He’s been very talkative.”
When Flo, Agnes and TC all just stared at him, clearly confused, he elaborated. “The governmental program that allows police departments to purchase military equipment to use or resell? It was shut down for a while but it’s back and a lot of smaller departments are using it to augment their operating budgets.”
“How can they do that?” Flo asked. She was slightly alarmed at the idea that the Silver City PD could be rolling down the streets in a tank like the one they saw in the warehouse.
“Recipients in the program have a year to use or sell the items. They use a lot of the stuff, but some of it they do sell off to private citizens...collectors and stuff.”
Flo had a lightbulb moment. “Felz.”
Peters nodded. “He’s been marketed to the media as a collector because that helped Bickel’s operation. Technically, military arms and tactical equipment can’t be sold to private citizens but Bickel found a way around it. His cousin would request a piece of equipment, slated for a local department within the state, and then alter the serial number and log it in as something that could be resold. Then that item would be suspiciously left off the list when the deliveries were made and would later be picked up by one of Bickel’s drivers and delivered to Felz’s property.”
“You mean Bickel’s delivery guys are in on this?”
“Not necessarily. As far as they knew they were just doing a regular delivery to a collector. We’re looking into it but so far there’s no evidence at all that his drivers are involved.”
TC shook her head. “I can’t believe the government would allow such dangerous equipment to be distributed willy-nilly around the country. Or even the world,” she said as her eyes grew round. “Bickel talked about selling to the Mexican cartels.”
“They don’t of course. Eventually they would have discovered the serial number mix-ups and someone would have to pay the piper. I’m guessing Bickel had a plan to leave Felz holding the bag.”
“Yeah, like slithering away to a Mexican beach,” Agnes said, frowning.
Peters shrugged. “Documentation has been a weak spot in the program from the beginning. Anyone who understood that could pretty easily take advantage.”
“I don’t understand,” Agnes said, frowning. “Was Carey in on it too?”
“Not as far as we can tell. I’m guessing that once Bickel starts talking, he’ll admit he hid the money in his boss’ office to point the finger at him after he was murdered. He knew the murder would bring uncomfortable scrutiny to the business and he was hedging his bets.”
Flo nodded. “He figured the cops would think Carey was killed by whoever he was selling the arms to.”
“Exactly.”
“Diabolical,” TC said on a frown.
Peters skimmed her a long look and smiled. “It is that, Miss Colombo.”
She returned his smile, flushing slightly.
“Then why’d he kill him?” Agnes asked.
Peters sat down on the front edge of his desk. “Carey discovered what he was up to and tried to stop him.”
“And Betty?” Flo asked, though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.
Peters sighed. “Unfortunately, Betty was too good at her job. Rather than accept the inventory lists Bickel gave her, she was spending her nights and weekends taking her own inventory of the warehouse. Apparently, there had been some pretty large discrepancies of late and she was determined to get to the bottom of it. It was her question to Carey about the military equipment that forced him to confront Bickel.”
“Poor Betty,” Flo said. “She never saw it coming.”
Peters nodded, frowning. “And speaking of that, I checked her statement on her hit and run accident and she did report that it was a red truck. The same red truck Felz drove to Carey’s when he followed Bickel over.”
Flo frowned. “Wait. It was Felz’s truck?”
“No. Bickel drove it to Felz’s place and left it there. He brought Rufus over to Carey’s in Felz’s van.”
“Ah,” Flo nodded.
“Bickel’s truck had paint scrapes from both your car and Betty Marlowe’s car on it.” He gave them a hard look. “You ladies should have stayed away from this, you know. You were almost killed. More than once.”
“But we solved two murders,” Agnes objected, puffing up with indignation.
“And we took care of ourselves,” Flo added.
“Actually, Sydney Felz and his pig took care of you.”
“What’s up with Felz anyway,” TC asked.
“He’s former military and he really does have a fondness for military equipment, especially the large vehicles. He apparently drove an armored Humvee in the first Gulf war.”
“No kidding?” Agnes grinned. “Cool.”
“Right. But while he seems simple and, from what I understand he does have some residual emotional episodes from his time in the service...”
“PTSD?” TC asked.
“Something like that. Although I don’t think it’s as bad as many soldiers come home with. Maybe because he was able to hide himself away on that huge property.” Peters shrugged. “Anyway. He’s different but he’s not stupid as Bickel assumed. He’d been disabling the equipment while it was on his property so whoever Bickel was selling it to wasn’t going to be real happy with him.”
“Go Sydney!” Agnes said, chuckling.
“Right.” Peters’ smile was fleeting. “Bickel was on borrowed time if he actually was selling these things to the cartel. They don’t take kindly to being cheated.”
“Well, I’d say he’s better off in prison then,” Flo told them. “He should thank us for saving his life.” She smiled.
“Actually, he should thank...”
“Felz. Got it, Detective.” Flo stood up and slipped her bag over her shoulder. “It was a pleasure working with you, Detective Peters.”
The cop shook her hand even as he grimaced. “Hopefully it won’t happen again, Mrs. Bee. Ever.”
She gave him an enigmatic smile. “We’ll see.”
Agnes slapped him on the back, nearly sending him to the floor. Peters’ hand shot to his empty holster before his brain realized he wasn’t under attack. “See ya around, Detective.”
He shrugged the shoulder she’d slapped, no doubt wishing he could rub it. But Flo figured he wouldn’t do it in front of the pretty girl.
TC offered him her hand and he seemed to forget about his sore shoulder. “Thank you for making sure we all survived, Detective.”
He held her hand longer than necessary, his gaze locked on hers. Flo easily read the interest there and she was happy for it. TC deserved a man like the detective. Handsome, strong and good at what he did. Even if he was kind of a pain in the patooty at times.
“It was my pleasure, Miss Colombo. I was wondering...”
“Yes?” TC’s eyes widened slightly.
“Would you be available...erm...if I have any further questions about what happened?”
She flushed with pleasure. “Absolutely.”
“Me too!” Agnes offered happily.
Flo grabbed her friend’s arm and started towing her to the door. “Come on, hun. I don’t think you were part of the invitation.”
“Are you sure? I’m more than happy to answer the detective’s questions.”
Something in the way Agnes said it had Flo turning to her at the door. She stared into Agnes’s eyes for a moment and then grinned widely. “You’re quite the jokester, aren’t you, Miss Agnes?”
Agnes let the smile in her eyes bend her lips upward in a wide grin. “I can be. Sometimes I like to let it sneak up on people though.”
Flo laughed heartily, ushering Agnes through the door ahead of her. “Something tells me that you and I are going to become great friends.”
“Something tells me the same thing, Flo.”
THE END
Did you enjoy Flo and Agnes’s story? If so, you might want to check out Book 1 of the Silver Hills Cozy Mysteries series.
Please enjoy Chapter One of Dose Vidanya, my gift to you!
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SILVER HILLS SENIOR and Singles Residence isn’t exactly a boring place. Home to a death predicting cat named Tolstoy, a night manager who may or may not suck blood and float above the floor, a cook with mad voodoo and pie baking powers, and a trio of nosy sleuths who are determined to get to the bottom of the corpse in the library (maybe literally)...some might say things couldn’t get any weirder.
Some would be wrong.