Forever Driven: Forever Bluegrass #4 (4 page)

Her father had been a former CIA spy and had taught her and her siblings how to defend themselves. It was a must in the Davies family, but she had never appreciated it so much as she did walking the empty annex at night. It gave her the creeps. Shadows played in the soft yellow glow of the hall lights left on at night as she made her way to the elevator. Somehow, taking the stairs in the barely lit stairwell seemed worse than the creaking noise of the elevator.

Every night she’d laughed at herself as she tightly gripped her bag and looked around before stepping out the door to the parking lot. But it didn’t stop her from doing so again that night as she stepped into the cold. There was a new moon and the night was dark, darker than normal, with the heavy cloud coverage trying to decide if it would rain. As if answering her question, thunder rumbled and heavy rain began to fall. Riley had parked her truck under a light but the brightness was beaten down under the heavy rain.

Riley shrugged her shoulders up and made a dash toward her truck. If it hadn’t been so cold and rainy, she would have noticed the movement sooner. As it was, the shape she had thought was just the tree trunk near her truck moved toward her. An arm reached out, and Riley screamed as it clamped down hard on her shoulder. She dropped her bag, all the lessons from her father kicking in as she fought with everything she had to free herself.

“This will teach you to toe the line. Vote for the highway, or else we’ll come for you again. And next time in the dark of night, you won’t get away with just a warning,” a man’s voice said through the pounding rain as he squeezed her painfully on her arm.

“You haven’t done your research on me, or you would know I don’t take kindly to threats,” Riley yelled as she lashed out with a hard kick to the man’s leg. She felt her heel tear through cloth and collide with bone.

He released his bruising hold on her arm and screamed, “Bitch!”

It was all she heard before a fist connected to her face.

Riley had been hit before while sparring with her cousins, but never at full contact or without pads on their hands. Riley’s eyes watered with the sharp pain of the punch. She instinctively wanted to cover her face with her hands. However, she kept her one good eye open and landed a punch of her own. The man stumbled back with surprise, his foot hitting the curb and sending him sprawling to the cold, muddy grass. Riley followed him and landed a kick to his side. She didn’t recognize the voice, and the face was masked in the darkness of a UK basketball cap. That only narrowed it down to most of the males in the state of Kentucky outside of Louisville.

“You.” Kick. “Will.” Kick. “Not.” Kick. “Intimidate me!” Riley punctuated her tirade with another kick to his side. The man rolled into the fetal position and tried to protect himself.

Bright lights cut through the rain. When Riley turned to look, the man grabbed her legs and tugged. Riley felt herself falling and knew there was nothing she could do to stop it as she crashed to the ground. The cold dampness shocked her as she landed with a splash in the grass. The man scrambled up, gave her a swift kick to her side, and disappeared down the nearby residential street.

“Dammit!” Riley yelled as she lay in the water-logged grass holding her side. The sound of a car pulling to a stop and a door opening halted the string of curse words she’d intended to yell into the night sky.

“Police! Are you okay, miss?”

Riley pushed herself up with a groan and turned toward the headlights. A uniformed man was getting out of the car with a slicker on and flashed a Maglite at her. She shielded her eyes with her hand and called out, “I am now. Thank you, officer.”

“What happened?” he asked as he hurried toward her. “Are you injured?”

Riley felt the sensitive skin by her eye and hissed in pain. “Doesn’t feel broken, just a black eye.”

“What’s your name, miss?”

“Riley Davies. I’m the representative from Keeneston.”

“Aw, shit. You’re Matt Walz’s friend. I’m Jacob Tandy. I was in Matt’s training class, and we’ve been friends ever since. He told us guys to keep an eye out for you since you’re . . . how did he phrase it?” Jacob pondered.

“Stubborn. Confrontational. Don’t take any shit. Take your pick, Officer Tandy.”

Tandy held out his hand and helped her to her feet. “Something like that, miss.”

“Call me Riley.”

“Okay, Riley. Why don’t you tell me what happened, so I can make a report.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m better off than he is. Besides, I’m cold, wet, and I have to drive home.”

Tandy shook his head. Water sprayed from the wide brim of his tan hat. “Sorry, Riley, but I’m not pushing this under the rug. I saw a man run off. What can you tell me?”

“Someone wants me to shut up and vote for the highway that will destroy Keeneston. This was my warning. He was about five foot eleven inches and one hundred ninety pounds. Middle-aged, probably forty years old. His accent placed him from Eastern Kentucky,” Riley rambled off.

Tandy blinked. “You got all that?”

“Yeah. My mother always told me to be aware,” Riley said with more snipe than she meant to.

“And he punched you?”

“He grabbed me and squeezed my arm while threatening me. I kicked him in the left shin, injuring him with my heel as I tried to get away from him. He punched me, and I fought back. I’m tired, my face is throbbing, and I’m exhausted. Can I please go home? I have to be back up here at eight.”

Tandy nodded. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

“It’s okay. My truck—”

“If you don’t get in my cruiser, I’ll insist on taking you to the hospital to be checked out.”

Riley grumbled but got into the front seat. She was asleep before they were off Capitol grounds.

“
W
hat the hell happened
?”

Riley blinked her eye open as her father stared down at her from the passenger door of the cruiser. “Dad, it’s three in the morning. What are you doing up?”

“I always stay up to make sure you get home all right. I’ve told you I don’t like you driving so late at night. And then I see a cruiser coming through the gate, and your eye’s all bruised. What happened?” Cy Davies demanded in such a tone that Riley would have rolled her eyes if one hadn’t been swollen. However, the tone had Officer Tandy snapping to attention and spilling all the details.

“I’ll have someone pick her up in the morning, sir.” Tandy practically saluted. Didn’t he know her father was CIA, not military?

“Thank you, Trooper, but I’ll take her to Frankfort tomorrow
if
she even goes.”

“Dad,” Riley sat up and prepared to argue that she was a grown woman.

“Don’t even argue. If you insist on going, then I’m taking you and staying the entire day to make sure you get home safely.”

“Oh my gosh, Dad. I’m a grown woman,” Riley began to argue as her father escorted her inside.

M
att stood
next to Jared in the moonless night. It was almost three in the morning, and he could smell the rain moving in. This deal needed to go down fast, or he was afraid it would be ruined. The distributor was thirty minutes late. It was cold. It was about to rain, and Jared looked like he was going to shoot someone.

For the last few months, Matt had worked construction on the highway during the day and became friends with Jared. He even invited him to bring a pound of meth to one of his parties. Of course, Jared didn’t know the party was full of undercover agents and informants. But it had gained the trust Matt had needed to get into Jared’s inner circle. When Jared found out Matt was handy with his fists, well, then he started using Matt to stand by as some of the major deals went down. Matt had a log of Jared’s bigger customers and had just recently been included in the expansion effort. Jared was branching out to Miami.

It had taken three weeks, but by keeping his head down and being a loyal friend, Matt had finally learned the entire plan from Jared. Tonight was it. The head of the Miami ring was coming up to meet face to face with Jared and swap $8 million dollars in cash for 500 pounds of meth hidden in personalized bourbon barrels. Normally, the barrels held 53 gallons of aging bourbon, but these only held 43 since a false bottom was built into each barrel to hide the meth. With the new Miami distributor selling a pound for $25,000 to $35,000, depending on the Miami market, he was set to make a killing on this deal. Eight million to the Miami mob was a drop in the bucket. But to Jared, it would be a significantly higher income stream. However, when you dealt with the mob, you had to make sure your product was good. Tonight was the sampling, and if all went well, the trade would follow.

Jared had taken Matt to his processing plant the week before to make sure there was enough product for the deal to go through. The DEA had the place under constant surveillance, thanks to Crystal’s information. Like many dealers, Jared didn’t use his own product. He tested the meth chemically to verify the purity. If the mob was happy with the drugs and this batch sold well in Miami, then they would begin a long-term arrangement. Too bad for them they were all getting busted tonight by the DEA and Kentucky State Police. During the bust, Matt Wilson would make a daring escape into the woods as agents shot at him. He would disappear off the face of the planet.

“Where the hell is he?” Jared yelled into the wilderness. Birds shot from the trees at the noise and disappeared into the darkness. They were parked on top of a small mountain, watching the only road to the clearing where they stood.

“They’re city boys,” Matt reminded him. “They’re probably driving 20 miles per hour on these country roads. Wait, I see headlights.”

Jared pulled out a hunting rifle and looked through the scope. “It’s a box van. It has to be them.”

“Do you see anything else?” Matt asked as he looked suspiciously around the area. DEA agents were in the woods. Night cameras with audio enhancement were on trees, but technology today made them invisible. A helicopter circled out of earshot waiting to move in. Agents would be laying tire strips on the dirt road after the box van drove up, effectively stopping anyone from getting off the mountain.

Jared scanned the area. “I don’t see anything. Are you worried?”

Matt shook his head. “Nah. I just heard Eddie got a speeding ticket a couple of weeks ago. I want to make sure we’re all covered, if you know what I mean.”

Jared looked behind him to where Eddie stood, talking with his crew of minions. “You think he was compromised?”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t think so. I know he’s always carrying, but he didn’t say he was searched. And he hasn’t been acting differently, has he? You’re around him more.”

Jared thought for a few minutes and then hesitantly shook his head. “I don’t think so. When Crystal was pulled over and busted, she was arrested. I have sources who told me she has kept her mouth shut in rehab. If Eddie talked, then I would have found out about it.”

Matt nodded. He had suspected some of the local police might be paid to keep Jared informed, but now he knew for sure. But his mission was now complete. He’d planted the idea that Eddie had turned on him. By the way Jared was suddenly nervously looking around again, it seemed he had bought it. The DEA would make sure to affirm it when they patted Eddie on the back after cuffing him. They’d also put him alone in a separate police car on the other side of the clearing and offer him coffee. Jared would draw his own conclusions.

Jared raised his rifle again and scanned the area. “We’re good. I don’t see anything outside of the ordinary.”

Matt hid his smile as Jared relaxed. The car lights approached and finally pulled to a stop in the level clearing overlooking the small town of Lumpur. The front doors opened, and two men in tan linen slacks and loose-fitting, vibrant pink and blue guayabera shirts got out. They looked ready for a Miami nightclub, not the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.

“Fuck me,” the driver in the bright pink shirt billowing in the wind cursed. His black hair was slicked back and his tan was so dark his ethnicity was undetermined. “I thought Kentucky was in the fucking South.”

“Barely. I’m Jared Caudill. I’m glad you found the place.”

“Me too. It’s in the middle of nowhere. My GPS told me to park and walk the rest of the way to my destination. Tony Carolla,” he said as he shook Jared’s hand. “And this is my partner Nicholi, but everyone calls him Little Nicki.”

Matt looked at the man who easily stood six and a half feet and weighed close to three hundred fifty pounds. Guess country boys weren’t the only ones who liked ironic nicknames.

“And this is Matt,” Jared nodded toward where Matt stood, slightly behind him. His hand wasn’t far from his firearm, and he knew Little Nicki’s wasn’t either. On a silent nod from both Jared and Tony, Little Nicki and Matt moved to check all parties for wires. When it was all clear, Jared smiled and rubbed his hands together.

“Eddie, show the man his product.”

Eddie and his crew jumped to their feet and hauled the bourbon barrels out of the back of the truck and placed them upside down. They popped off the false bottom to reveal the bottom of the barrel was full with crystal meth in neat little baggies, put together by weight in their color-coordinated pouches by Jessica, Jared’s wife.

“Nice,” Tony whistled as he flicked his wrist at Little Nicki, who pulled out a giant rectangular suitcase and unzipped it. Cash in neat bundles filled it. When Jared motioned to Matt, he headed over to the cash and wanded it to make sure it was clear of any tracking or listening devices.

“It’s clean,” Matt called out.

“Would you like to test the product?” Jared offered with a gesture toward the product.

“Yes, thank you.” Tony pulled a switchblade from his pocket and randomly cut into a bag. He pulled out a crystal and placed it a test tube before heating it. As soon as it, melted he waited to see how fast it recrystallized. The faster it did so, the better the quality. Tony then opened a second bag and pulled out another piece before dropping it in a small amount of water in a second test tube. They used an extremely tight strainer over the top of the tube and poured out the water as soon as the meth had dissolved. If a lot of solids were used for cutting the product, they would be left behind in the tube, meaning the quality of the meth was lower.

Jared rocked back on his heels with a smile on his face. These were extremely un-scientific ways to test meth. And what Matt had learned was Jared didn’t do anything subpar. He wasn’t running meth labs out of broken-down trailers or the back of cars. He had a full, scientific, state-of-the-art lab set up in the mountains with ventilation and a very specific formula for making the drug.

“This looks great. It’s going to sell like gangbusters in Miami. You wouldn’t believe the crap we have down there. We have a deal. And the price is locked in, right?” Tony asked.

“Yes, for the first year, just like we agreed upon. I need three weeks’ notice for large orders if you want the highest quality. I still have my area to serve, after all,” Jared said as he motioned for Eddie and the boys to seal things back up.

“We can work with that,” Tony held out his hand and shook Jared’s. “I look forward to a very profitable relationship with you.”

Matt got ready. It would all be going down as soon as the exchange took place. Eddie and the boys pulled the barrels from the pickup truck bed and carried them to the box van. As soon as it was being slid inside, Tony handed Jared the cash and all hell broke loose.

The helicopter light turned on in the distance, sirens flashed at the base of the mountain as vehicles raced up the dirt road, and agents poured in from the woods behind them. Jared cursed. Little Nicki started firing. Tony leapt into the box van with the back still open. He spun the tires and pulled a 180. The barrels slid toward the open back door. DEA returned fire, and Little Nicki leapt inside. Tony slammed on the gas, and the van jolted down the dirt road. The barrels bounced against the back of the van, some bouncing out the back and splitting open, others rolling out the open door. They careened down the hills, scattering the drugs as bourbon splashed out before the barrels finally came to a stop. The van was blocked in by the DEA vehicles heading up the mountain.

“Run!” Jared yelled. Matt didn’t need to be told twice. While the agents were rounding up Eddie and his boys, Matt and Jared took off toward the side of the mountain. Shots were fired as they slid down the loose dirt. Jared grunted and started rolling out of control down the steep side of the mountain.

“Jared!” Matt yelled as he turned his body sideways to better control his descent down the side of the mountain. A bullet hit at Matt’s feet, and he lost his balance. He rolled to a stop ten feet from Jared’s writhing form.

“Son of a bitch. They shot me in the leg. I can’t stand up. Run, Matt! Get to my wife before they do.”

“I can’t leave you,” Matt called as he scrambled nearer the downed drug dealer. He tried to lift Jared, but Jared’s leg wouldn’t hold him.

“You’re a good friend. Save yourself,” Jared told him, looking over his shoulder as the wall of agents advanced down the mountainside.

Matt gave Jared a grim nod and then took off. He ran as if his life depended on it—because it did. His cover had to stay intact if he didn’t want to keep looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life. His shoes slid on the loose rock as he plunged through the cover of the woods. Matt heard Forgy yelling at him to stop and breathed a sigh of relief. Not all of the agents were in the loop. But if Forgy was there, then the plan was working. Forgy shot, but the bullets kicked up dirt three feet to his left.

Matt didn’t look back until he was sprinting on solid ground into the line of trees. Jared was being cuffed as two agents hefted him up by the armpits. Jared gave him a brief sad smile before Matt disappeared into the woods.

Matt slowed his running. Forgy and Tate would give pursuit but would come back and make sure everyone heard that Matt had been wounded but had gotten away. They would order an APB on him, but it would come to nothing since Matt Wilson was now gone. Matt Walz would be picked up at a prearranged safe house and taken back home. Home—he was finally going back home. Exhaustion hit him as it sank in that his undercover work was finally done.

I
t had taken
an hour to reach the abandoned mobile home at the base of a nearby mountain four miles away. The mobile home was cold, but it blocked the wind. Spring in Kentucky wasn’t all sun and roses. Cold fronts blowing in at night could be brutal. He had been sitting in the musty trailer listening to the scurrying feet of rodents in the cabinets and waiting for his ride to show up. Matt wanted to close his eyes and sleep, but he didn’t want to miss his ride. He was too eager to get home. His small ranch house in Keeneston seemed like paradise right now.

He heard the engine of a car and stood up, moved to the side of a window, and looked out. He breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the familiar DEA vehicle. He waited, though, to verify the identity of the driver before making his presence known. When Matt saw Tate’s lanky form get out of the car, he finally emerged from the trailer.

“How did it go?” Matt asked as he shook Tate’s hand before getting into the passenger seat.

Tate chuckled as he drove out the valley and back onto the small country highway. “Forgy slapped Eddie on the back with a huge smile on his face. He even took off the cuffs after he got Eddie in the car. Jared saw and lost it.

“Forgy called and said the likelihood of you testifying is slim to none. Eddie spilled his guts to Forgy during the car ride to the jail. It was all caught on tape. Including Forgy reading him his Miranda rights. Eddie told us everything you did and more. He begged us to keep him far away from Jared and to protect him from Matt Wilson, Jared’s new right hand. Jared had apparently screamed some very specific ways on how he was going to kill Eddie for turning on him. Your plan of us being friendly to Eddie after the arrest worked better than we ever dreamed.”

“I planted a bug in Jared’s mind right before you arrived, too,” Matt told him as he looked out at the mountains and hills of Lumpur passing by. In twenty minutes, they’d be on the parkway, heading to Keeneston.

“Well, it worked. His wife will be going away for a long time, too. When they busted into the house, she used her kids as a shield and fired at the agents. One agent managed to sneak behind her and stun-gunned her.”

“What about the kids?” Matt asked sadly. Their whole world was taken away from them that night, and he knew how that felt.

“The wife’s sister is in Texas and owns a large cattle farm. She’s going to take them. We called her after the bust and woke her up, but she said she’d be on a plane at six in the morning to be here for them. She’s never met her niece and nephews. Their parents were users, and she hated it. The sister moved out at eighteen and hasn’t talked to them since. She cut off communication when Jessica married Jared. She had no idea the kids even existed. She was actually more surprised that her sister and Jared were still alive. Her sister likes heroin; Jared made it special for her. That’s how they met,” Tate explained.