The Fallen

Chapter 58

As they were driving back to the Mitchells’, Jamison blurted out, “If you thought they had Frank killed, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I told you before that I suspected his death might not be an accident.”

“Yeah, but now you sound a lot more sure.”

“That’s because I am a lot more sure.”

“But why would they kill Frank?”

“He saw something he shouldn’t have, probably.”

“But it was the robot that killed him.”

“But people control robots. And what if it did exactly as it was programmed to do, while Frank was standing next to it?”

Before Jamison could answer, Decker’s phone rang.

It was Kemper.

“We just did a quick down and dirty on the two houses. Both tested positive for traces of heroin and fentanyl. Decker, I don’t know how long I can sit on this.”

“We need just a little more time. Have you been keeping Ross under surveillance?”

“Yeah, he left yesterday with his duffel. And I’m betting there wasn’t just gym clothes in there. He went into a number of buildings, including the gym. It would have been too conspicuous for us to follow him inside. He came back out each time with the duffel, but there’s no guarantee that the pill bottles were still in there. So there’s evidence that probably just went poof.”

“We’ll nail these guys, Agent Kemper.”

“We better. Because if we don’t my career is over. I just need you to understand that we’re running out of time.”

She clicked off and Decker looked at Jamison, who had obviously overheard the DEA agent’s strident tones.

“She sounds a little panicked,” said Jamison.

“Yeah. I guess,” Decker said vaguely.

“Don’t you ever panic, Decker?”

“Never saw the value.”

“We can’t tell Amber your theory about Frank. Not until we’re sure.”

“I know that.”

The skies opened up and a fine rain began to fall.

“God, Baronville is dreary enough without the bad weather,” observed Jamison as she drove along.

“Dreary with bright spots,” amended Decker. “Look over there at that bakery. Cindi Riley told me about it. The owner had a life insurance policy on her son. He overdosed and his policy paid out enough for her to open a business.”

“You really think something hinky is going on with that.”

“Hinky enough for us to stop there and get some coffee.”

Jamison pulled into the parking lot and they entered the Peacock Bakery. There was a neon sign out front in the shape of the colorful bird.

Inside, the place was neat and well laid out with whitewashed wooden tables, multicolored tablecloths, and glass cabinets filled with delicacies. Behind the counter was a large chalkboard mounted on the wall with the bakery’s menu written on it.

Jamison sniffed the air and moaned. “God, just the aroma makes me want to eat everything in the place.”

A woman appeared from behind a curtain at the back of the counter.

She looked thin and worn and her face was heavily wrinkled, and her hair was shot through with gray. But her smile was pleasant and her eyes twinkled as she looked at them.

“What can I do for y’all?” she asked.

Decker said, “Two large coffees to go.”

Jamison pointed to some items in one of the display cases. “Are those carrot cake muffins?”

“Yes, ma’am, they are.”

“Awesome. We’ll take two.”

“That’s a right good choice. They’re fresh out of the oven. I’m Linda Drews. I own the place.”

“Hi, Linda. I’m Alex and this is Amos. So why name the place the Peacock Bakery?”

“When I was just a little thing I always wanted me a peacock as a pet. That ain’t never happened. So this was the next best thing. And the sign sure is eye-catching, or so folks tell me.”

As Drews prepared their order, Decker said, “This place looks pretty new.”

“Open less than a year. I always loved to bake, so why not make money off it? And I like being the boss. And I’m making good money. Have the fulfillment center partly to thank. We get a lot of traffic from there. All the heavy lifting and walking makes people hungry for dang sure.”

“I bet,” said Decker.

As she poured the coffees Linda Drews said, “How’d you hear about us?”

“Cindi Riley.”

“Oh, right. Cindi’s real nice. She gets the word out about local businesses. We’re all trying to bring the town back.”

“She also told us about your son. He was a friend of hers.”

Drews had leaned down and was using a pair of tongs to pull out two muffins from the display cabinet. She stiffened at Decker’s words.

“Cindi told you about Keith?”

“Yeah. It sounded really sad.”

Drews slowly put the muffins in a bag.

“He was my only child. You never get over that.”

“I’m sure. It was an overdose, Cindi said,” noted Decker.

Drews nodded. “Baronville’s got lots of problems. Biggest one is drugs. Now, I admit, I was on ’em for a long time. Started out on Percocet and then became a mixer.”

“A mixer?” said Jamison.

“I’d mix the Percocet with Oxy, Xanax, hell, anything I could think of. I’d do a couple hundred pills a week.” She put the bag of muffins on the counter. “How old do you think I am?”

Decker shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I don’t like guessing people’s ages.”

“I just turned fifty.”

She smiled sadly at their surprised looks. “Drugs ain’t beauty aids. I know I look like I’m sixty-five.”

“But you’ve obviously conquered your addiction,” said Jamison.

Drews rapped her knuckles against the wooden counter. “It’s a fight every day, but today I’m clean. Tomorrow? Who knows.”

“You’re remarkably candid about your experience,” said Jamison. “I mean, you don’t know us.”

“I talked about it long enough at the addiction centers. You got to wrap your mind around it. You got to lay your soul bare if you’re going to get better. I tried more than one way to do it, because one thing works for some and not for others. But I finally kicked it, thank you God. Hardest thing I ever had to do.”

“But not Keith?” said Decker.

Drews started to ring up their order and then stopped. “No.” Tears formed in her eyes. “You ain’t supposed to outlive your child, but I did Keith. He died sixteen months ago. He would’ve been twenty-eight next month.”

“I’m really sorry,” said Jamison.

“But at least you have the bakery,” prompted Decker.

“Well, that’s due to Keith really.”

“How so?” asked Decker.

“Keith had him a life insurance policy for a million dollars, and I was the beneficiary. Never could’ve afforded this place otherwise. Ovens alone are a damn fortune.” She paused as Jamison handed her the credit card for the coffee and muffins. “I’d rather have my son,” she said dully.

“Well, it was lucky that he had a policy,” said Decker. “I guess he had it through work, maybe.”

“No, not through work. He had a job at the fulfillment center. He was a picker. Running all day long, bending over, lifting stuff. Then he hurt his back real bad and got laid off. He went to the doctor. Got on pain pills. And there you go. He got hooked. Same old story. One day he thought he was taking heroin but it was really that fentanyl crap. He was dead before the EMTs could get to him.”

“That’s awful,” said Jamison.

“Well, in Baronville, we just call that normal and ain’t that a damn shame.”

Decker said, “Well, it was fortunate that your son got his policy before he became addicted. I doubt he could have passed a medical exam if he’d been addicted.”

“I know. Willie said the same thing.”

“Willie?”

“Willie Norris is the one who sold Keith the policy. He told me that too when he gave me the check. But Keith was clean when he took out that policy. And then he was dead.”

“So he took out the policy after he injured himself? And for a million dollars?”

“Yeah. He heard it was a good idea. See, he wanted to get rehired at the fulfillment center. And that place can be dangerous. What with all them robots and such. Someone just got killed by one of them suckers, did you know that?”

“Yeah, we heard,” said Jamison quickly.

“Who suggested your son get life insurance? Was it this Willie Norris?”

“I don’t know exactly. But I guess some good came out of Keith’s death. I was able to bury him proper with the money and then open this place.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I hope you enjoy the muffins. And spread the word.”

Jamison said, “Do you have the contact information for Mr. Norris? My sister just lost her husband and I’m thinking she might need some life insurance. She has a young daughter.”

“Oh, sure. You got to think about that stuff, ’cause you just never know in this old world.”

Linda Drews rummaged around in a drawer and pulled out a business card. “Here’s the information. It’s about a mile from here. Willie’s a good guy. Lived here forever, just like me.”

Jamison looked down at the card. “Thanks a lot.” She put a five in the tip jar on the counter.

“Thank you,” said Drews.

Decker looked the place over. “I hope you make it,” he said.

“Me too,” Drews replied. “’Cause this is all I got left.”