“Yes. Mr. Peyton was insured as a business partner with Carrington & Son New and Used Car. He’d been added to the policy just a couple months before he was tragically killed there at the FBI office in Jefferson City,” Mr. Crestfall said.
“That can’t be right. My dad never worked for the dealership. Never!” Then as if this was more than she could take, tears trickled from her eyes. More and more. Fuller and faster until her cheeks were wet. Her chin quivered as tried to speak. “My mama and us, we never saw a penny of that insurance disbursement.”
Calmly, Cain motioned the insurance agent to leave, then followed up with a gesture indicating he wanted to talk to him later. Mr. Crestfall nodded in return, then started his car and drove away.
For the next few minutes, he held Betsy, and she let him. A lifetime of emotions seemed to be spilling forth from her. He figured he was one of the very few people who had ever seen her cry. Especially with such raw to the bone emotions fueling the crash. Especially when she’d been holding everything deep inside since she was eleven years old.
All the while he held her, his mind scrambled to think of all the assorted implications this information could have. Others who might have been on that insurance list at one time or another in the last twenty years. Right now, though, his only concern was Betsy and her family.
Finally composed, she eased back, and he gave her space.
A stab of pain jagged through his body from his gut to his heart to his brain. Right now, he needed to ignore his heart and think only with his brain. His gut feeling was always his brain’s trigger. Just knowing his name was on the business insurance list had put his flash point on alert.
The last few minutes had been what cases were made on. Where hints of clues tumbled forth from nowhere. He needed to catch up on Crayton and its people. The entire region might fall into whatever this was…maybe even more. Priority, make some phone calls. Review what he already knew. What he didn’t know. He didn’t like his premonition. This had been a hell of a long couple of days. His gut told him this was only the beginning.
Walking far enough away to be out of earshot with Betsy, he called Truman in New York. No answer, so he left a voice message to call him back ASAP.
The moment he disconnected, his phone rang with an incoming call. “Yeah. That was fast.”
“I don’t know who you’re expecting, but this is Joanie.” Her voice was tense, and she seemed to be talking faster than usual. “I’ve got a jalapeño pizza for you. Where should I deliver this ASAP special double-boxed order? ASAP was his exact word.”
His shoulders tightened. For the second time in less than an hour, the back of his neck chilled. Corner of his eye twitched. “Joanie, are you where you can talk without being heard?”
“Give me a second.”
He heard the closing of a door and a lock being thrown on her end.
“What do you need?” she asked.
He started to follow Betsy into the building, then he stopped and glanced around the car lot instead. Nothing to see but the usual cars and trucks and SUVs. Still, he lowered his head and covered his mouth with his hand. He’d learned a long time ago how easily someone could zero in with a pair of binoculars to read a person’s lips. And just in case the building hadn’t been swept for listening devices, he walked over to an SUV in the second row and leaned as if checking the insides.
“Lift the top box and see if there’s a note beneath it.” He’d always trusted Joanie and had no reason not to at this moment. In fact, she’d be in the top ten people he could trust in Crayton if he was making a list.
“Yes, there’s a note, just like you said. And I know for a fact it came from the guy with the white hat. I saw him fix the box myself,” she said.
“Good. Now read me the note.” Funny how quick he had fallen into his undercover routine. Guess some things would never change. “Oh, and this is all confidential.”
“Of course,” she replied in a snarky tone, then sighed. “Everything to do with you or JB or the sheriff…in fact, any of the local law enforcement, is always confidential.”
Suddenly the back door of the building opened, and Betsy stepped back outside and closed the door behind her. Glanced around the lot as if looking for him.
“Hey, Betsy. I’ll be right there,” he shouted over to her.
She nodded then jerked on the back door as if making sure it was locked. “I’ll walk on down to the service building and lock up down there, too.”
“Sounds good. I’ll meet you there.” He turned back to his phone conversation. “Okay Joanie, what does the note say?”
“Arrest me ASAP—middle of town—front of a lot of people. Make it believable! White hat between 5:30 p.m. Armed. Won’t draw.” She lightly cleared her throat. “That’s all there is except in all caps he wrote HBL with a double-slash mark underneath.”
HBL—hell broke loose—Cain’s flash point went off. “Joanie, take that pizza and note to the police station. Give it only to JB, Kennett or the sheriff.”
“On my way. Bye.”
Texting JB as he ran across the car lot toward the service center, Cain told him to read the note when Joanie arrived. I’m on my way to the station, also. Bringing Betsy.
He shoved his phone in his pocket as he saw her do a doorknob jerk on the door to the service center. “Get in my truck ASAP,” he shouted. “We’re headed to the police station.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
