This one's for Rosepeony, and you know why! Two chapters in one day! That doesn't happen very often! Thank you everyone for your reviews, they make me smile.
Return to Me
Chapter 11
Spilling the Beans
There were four interrogation rooms in the bullpen in Houston, and guards brought up 4 of the farmers most recently arrested, putting one in each room. They sat there long enough to get anxious, which was Cho's plan. Cho walked into the first glass encased room and sat down opposite a young man of about 30 years old. He was handcuffed and furious at being under arrest.
Cho read his notes and let the man stew for a few minutes before he looked up and deigned to speak to him.
"Fred Murdoch. Where'd he go?" Cho began.
"Fred who?"
"Cut the crap. You and every single other man in custody from Lost Wells knows who and what Fred Murdoch is. He's your supplier for illegal barbiturates and whatever else you want him to bring in across the border. I see that not only did you have those barbiturates hidden in your barn, you also had cocaine, marijuana and some ecstasy. Planning a rave are you?"
The farmer had been arrested but had no idea the extent of the damning evidence found in his barns.
"Your agents planted those drugs, they're not mine" the farmer argued lamely.
"We planted the drugs? Why'd we do that when we could be out finding a kidnapper and murderer? We don't have the time to make up fake charges. Two of our agents are gone, taken by this lunatic and you will be charged as an accessory if we discover that you withheld evidence that would lead to the killer's arrest."
"You're lyin'" barked the farmer, a little less confident now.
"Try me" Cho answered, slamming his file shut and getting up. "I want names, I want inside information about Murdoch's operation and all of his buyers. While I'm gone, you would be wise to consider your options. I suspect that will jog your memory."
He left the man shackled to the table then went to the next interrogation room. Here he found a much younger man, only about 24 years old. He was young but cocky, sure that whatever the cops thought they had on him was only bullshit...he'd be out in a few hours laughing at them all the way back to Lost Wells. Screw them…
Cho consulted his file again. What he saw wasn't good.
"Drew Mackie. One arrest for jacking a car, arrested for selling cigarettes to a minor, arrested for possession, arrested for arson, arrested for extreme animal cruelty." Cho looked up at the smirking young man and saw a defiant, cruel man who would most likely end up at the State Prison or dead before he was 30.
"Most serial killers start out small, torturing insects, mice, cats, dogs, working their way up to humans. Are you there already Drew? Did you make the leap from abusing street cats to killing full grown men?"
"Jesus no! What the hell?" Drew shouted. "You're crazy man!"
"OK. Let's think smaller. How would you like accessory to kidnapping and murder added to your rap sheet?"
This got the man's attention. Drew sat up straighter, sneering at the man making the accusations.
"I know what this is. This is just a fishing expedition. You need something and think you can scare me with false accusations. Nice try buddy!"
Cho waited until the man had stopped grinning and calmed down. When Mackie was done puffing out his chest and showing Cho how brave he was, Cho continued.
"Fred Murdoch is the supplier of banned barbiturates and any other drug wanted in and around Lost Wells. You're one of those customers. I want names, I want dates and locations. I want to know everything you know about Murdoch's operation and I want that information now."
"So ask Murdoch. Why ask me? I'm just a poor stupid farmer" grinned the man, playing dumb.
"We would do that but someone tipped Murdoch off and by now he's probably sipping Tequila in a bar in Juarez, with schmucks like you holding the bag back in Texas. Now pay attention to what I'm about to say Drew. You're in custody because of the drugs we found in your barn. That connects you to the disappearance of several men and two Federal Agents. I want the names of every person who bought drugs from Murdoch. Otherwise we'll be looking at you as an accessory to murder."
Mackie's mocking sneer fell off his face as the realization of his precarious position finally hit him. Rattling his handcuffs at Cho, he leaned forward and issued a warning to the agent.
"I ain't done none of those things. You got nothin'! Nothin' on me but simple possession. What's a few joints to you? Kidnapping? Murder? That's bullshit man! Keep talkin' that way and you'll be missin' like them other two Feds!"
Cho smiled at the man. He had just threatened a Federal Agent!
"You don't get any smarter with time do you Drew? I just added intimidation and threatening harm to a Federal Agent to your arrest warrant. Good job, should add a few years to your sentence."
With that, Cho stood up and started to walk out of the room, leaving Drew open mouthed and scared.
"I was just jokin'. No offense eh? Just kiddin'!" he shouted at Cho's rapidly receding back. Cho stopped at the door and turned back to glare at Drew.
"I don't joke, and you're going to prison."
The door slammed shut and Drew watched Cho walk away. A sick feeling filled Drew's gut. What had he just done to himself?
The next room had an older man sitting at the stainless steel table. He was clearly terrified. Cho entered and sat opposite to him, reading his case file at his leisure. The prisoner was about 50, well groomed, quiet, nervous and desperate to get home again to his wife and kids. He had been picked up a few hours ago in the dead of night.
Cho looked up at the man, John Garton.
"Mr. Garton. You seem surprised to be here."
"Well yes! I am...I mean...I've never been in trouble with the law, ever! Why am I here?" he stammered.
Cho could see in the file that indeed, Mr. Garton had never so much as gotten a traffic ticket. Compared to most people arrested by the FBI, he was a saint. But he had illegal barbiturates hidden in a cupboard in his barn. He had protested his innocence all the way to Houston.
"You're here because we're raiding all of the farms outside Lost Wells, looking for drugs and information about the abduction and murder of several men. Fred Murdoch is a supplier of banned barbiturates, heroin, cocaine, ecstasy, pot...the list goes on. He's your supplier, correct?"
John Garton looked stunned. Shaking his head vigorously, he denied everything.
"No! I know Fred, but only because I bought some car parts from him last month, and six months ago I got my wife a new vacuum cleaner for her birthday. I didn't know he sold drugs! Why would I?"
Cho sat back in his chair, trying to gauge if this man was telling the truth. All indications were that he was. But he had the drugs in his barn. That was indisputable.
"Why did our agents find barbiturates in your barn Mr. Garton? What did you use them for? Do you euthanize your animals with them?"
Garton shook his head, confused, scared, embarrassed.
"I don't! I have no idea where they came from or why they're there...and I wouldn't know what to do with them anyway...we got rid of the last of our cattle last year! We don't even have a pet dog on our property!" Garton was truly afraid. He had no idea who had planted drugs in his barn.
Cho tried another tactic.
"Has anyone visited you recently, stayed with you, maybe rented a room from you and your wife?"
Garton went pale. Yes...of course.
"Oh my God...my nephew…"
"What about your nephew John?"
Garton looked at Cho like he was a deer staring at headlights on a highway.
"He got out of prison just after Christmas last year. His folks didn't want him to come back to live with them, not until he could prove he was clean and willing to get a job, earn back their trust. So we offered him a room at our place. Thought living out in the back of beyond would straighten him out and get him away from bad influences."
"Mr. Garton, what was your nephew in prison for?"
Garton looked down at his hands in defeat. "He was in for drug possession."
Cho wrote something in the file and leaned forward, his tone kinder.
"Mr. Garton, I believe your story. I don't think you knew the drugs were there. Where is your nephew now?"
Garton looked relieved, but sad.
"He's dead. Got into a fight in Mesa a month ago and got knifed. We sent his stuff home to his parents. He must have bought those drugs and hidden them in the barn while he was living with us. I can't….I don't want his mother to find out about this…" he said softly. "She thought he was done with that life."
Cho stood up and patted the man on the shoulder.
"Thank you for your cooperation. You'll be out of here soon and on your way back home."
"So I'm not going to jail?" the man asked in shock.
"We'll need to check out your story. If everything you said is true, you'll be released from custody."
Garton's shoulders sagged in relief. "Thanks...thank you so much…"
Cho made a note in his file to make sure all charges against Mr. Garton were dropped as soon as possible. That done, he walked to the last interrogation room. A much older man sat there, angry and pious in his indignation. He was still dressed in his striped cotton pajamas and he was pissed. Cho sat down and quickly read his notes while the man watched him with barely disguised hatred.
When Cho took too long to acknowledge him, the man spoke first.
"Who're you?"
Cho looked up, closing the file quietly. "I'm Agent Kimball Cho of the Austin FBI."
"Austin? What the hell is an agent from Austin doing in Houston? Can't they get a white agent down here to do his job?" the racist snared.
Cho had run into this kind of hatred his whole life. The slurs never got any easier to hear, but education, patience and a gun on his hip had levelled the playing field considerably. It also help that the man hurling racial epithets was, after all, the one in handcuffs.
"The FBI works cooperatively with offices all across Texas and America. Agents of all colours, religions and ethnicities are sworn to enforce the law Mr…..Mills. So whether or not I'm white, green or pink, you're still in a pile of trouble. Am I clear?" Cho explained dispassionately.
Mr. Mills stared at Cho with undisguised hatred. This man represented everything he hated about America right now. Sitting here facing a man in a position of power, dressed in a black suit, his fate in his hands and an Asian of all things, suddenly made Mills acutely aware of his grizzled appearance, and his current state of near undress. His pride couldn't take it.
"What's clear to me is that you and your like had no right raiding the sanctity of my home, my farm, scaring my wife half to death in the middle of the night. I live in the sovereign State of Texas, and you have no authority over me. When I'm through with you Agent, you'll wish you'd stayed in Austin, or China, or wherever the hell you came from, understand?" he shouted.
Cho folded his arms across his chest. If he and Jane had stayed in Austin, none of this would be their concern and Jane wouldn't be missing. His anger at this man was growing by the minute but he had to keep himself in check.
"Mr. Mills, the last time I checked, Texas was still part of America, and you are a citizen of America, just like me. As for your arrest, every farm in the region was raided last night. We rounded up many of your neighbors who are as guilty as you are of having contraband drugs hidden in their homes or barns. So when this is all over, when I'm through with YOU, I'm not the one who's going to be sorry. Now if you're finished digging a deeper hole for yourself, let's get down to business. Your answers in the next few minutes will determine if you go home today, or if you spend the next few years getting to know your new neighbours in the Federal Prison. Understand?"
Mr. Mills was momentarily stunned by Cho's threat. Prison? What the hell was all this about?
As he was about to open his mouth to rant some more, Cho cut him off.
"Mr. Mills, as you no doubt are aware, several men are missing, that's why we're investigating in and around Lost Mills. Another man was taken yesterday, an FBI consultant and my best friend. If I suspect you had anything to do with his disappearance, you'll be facing life in prison without parole. So think very carefully before you speak. Got it?"
"Yes. Got it" Mills said much more contritely. Suddenly the air in the room got a lot chillier.
"Who did you buy your barbiturates from?" Cho asked, already knowing the answer.
Mills looked askance and knew he had to answer. The handcuffs bit into his fleshy wrists. He didn't want to be wearing them for the rest of his life.
"Fred Murdoch. He was the main supplier in town. Everybody knew it, at least most of the farmers. A few goody goodies had no clue, but if you asked around, you could get anything you wanted."
"And why did you need barbiturates Mr. Mills?"
"My animals! Do you know what it costs to get a vet to come out to the farm and treat your sick animals and then put them down? Then you have to pay to truck the carcass outta there. So it was better to get the drugs and put my animals down myself. Saved a bundle over the years" he explained to the agent. Hell, it made perfect sense to him, but to city folks, who knows?
"I want names Mr. Mills. Give me the names of anyone and everyone you know who was a customer of Murdoch."
"Ask him yourself. I ain't no squealer" Mills said defiantly.
"I'd do that, but it seems Fred ran off in the night to the safety of Mexico. Looks like one of your neighbours tipped him off and he left all of you to clean up his mess. So, none of your friends is to be trusted it seems. The names...give them to me."
"I have no idea who else bought from Fred" Mills lied.
"But you said everybody knew Fred was the supplier, most of the farmers, but suddenly you have amnesia" Cho chided him.
"That's right. I do" Mills said. He sat back, seemingly daring Cho to do something. Cho didn't disappoint him.
"OK. I'll tell the agent in charge to process you for a cell in the Federal Prison while they finish speaking to the other farmers who come in."
Cho stood up and walked to the door. Mills suddenly realized he was really going to prison.
"NO! Wait...let me think...I might remember…" he sputtered.
"You do that" Cho said as he slipped out of the door.
Mills watched him disappear down the hall and suddenly had the overwhelming urge to throw up. He'd screwed up, badly.
Cho returned to the first room again and laid down his demands for more names, then did so at the second room. The threat of going immediately to prison to wait for their court date might just loosen some tongues. Both men suddenly remembered much more than they had a few minutes ago. Names and addresses were listed, along with other bits of information about Fred Murdoch. Seems drugs weren't his only business. When Cho got back to Mills, he had experienced a conversion worthy of his good Christian background. He sang like a bird. The list of men to check out had grown exponentially and Cho texted the information to Calderone and Abbott in Lost Wells. By the time Cho got back on the chopper, he was hopeful that Jane was being held on one of those farms. It was only a matter of time before they found him.
