The Guilty

Chapter 38

Robie and Reel sat across from Sheriff Keith Monda in the latter’s office on the main thoroughfare of Cantrell, which was barely two car lengths wide. They had been up all night. It was past eleven in the morning now.

Monda was a heavyset man in his fifties, with iron-gray hair gelled straight back. He was in uniform, and an unlit cigarillo rolled around in his mouth, while a deep scowl was set in his features.

His office was small and cramped, with cinderblock walls and an old-fashioned calendar hanging on one wall. There wasn’t a computer on his desk or any other evidence that the man had entered the latter part of the twentieth century much less the twenty-first.

When he settled back in his old roller chair, it squeaked and so did his gun belt.

Taggert stood next to him. She was in uniform now and had a nervous expression on her face.

Monda took the cigarillo out of his mouth and said, “I’ve been briefed on all of it by Taggert here. And I got a call into the FBI but I haven’t heard back yet. Now I’d like to hear things from you two, ’cause I don’t much cotton to people havin’ shootouts ’round here.”

Robie explained everything that had happened thus far.

Monda looked at Reel. “So where do you come in exactly?”

“I come in exactly as Robie’s professional colleague.”

“Which neither one’a you have elaborated on. What is it that you both do?”

“I have a phone number that you can call,” replied Robie.

The man’s scowl deepened. “I’m not interested in callin’ anybody. I want to hear it from you. Right now.”

Reel said imperturbably, “The number is in Washington. It’s a federal government phone number. They can tell you certain things at their discretion.”

“And you can’t?”

“We’re not allowed to,” said Reel. “You can lock us up if you want, but that won’t change things.”

Monda placed the cigarillo back into his mouth and eyed her. “Taggert here said you shot down four armed men with a rifle in the dark.”

“Well, they were shooting at me. And I don’t much cotton to that.”

“I don’t doubt that. What are you two, like special forces or somethin’?”

“Or something,” said Robie. “The phone call will explain things.”

“To a degree,” amended Reel.

Monda nodded and asked for the phone number. He wrote it down as Robie recited it for him.

Monda said, “Okay, just so we’re straight on all this, we are not releasin’ any information about what happened. I don’t want any panic. I’ve told Sara Chisum to keep her mouth shut or she’ll get in trouble. And you two keep this to yourselves.”

“You know Cantrell,” said Robie. “Small town where everybody knows everybody’s business. Hard to keep something like this quiet.”

“Well, we’re sure gonna try.”

“You might want to put Chisum in protective custody.”

“Well, if I did that it would let the cat out of the bag.”

“But if those guys come back?” pointed out Robie. “How about giving her protection at home?”

“I don’t have the manpower for that. But I will have my deputies check on her periodically. And discreetly.”

Robie wasn’t satisfied by this answer, but it wasn’t like he had much leverage.

Monda leaned farther back in his chair and said, “You’re Judge Robie’s son, I understand. You left before I came to Cantrell. I was up in Hattiesburg till about ten years ago.”

“I’ve been gone over twenty years now.”

“And back here because of your daddy?”

“Yes.”

“He was a good judge. Hard on us cops, but he was fair. If he didn’t kill Sherm Clancy I hope things turn out all right for him.”

“Me too.”

“So these dead men were interested in Pete Clancy?”

“They were. As I told Deputy Taggert, his father had dealings with these people. Pete was apparently trying to replace his father in that relationship, I’m assuming, with the Rebel Yell people. They didn’t particularly care for that. They wanted Pete to give them whatever his father had in the way of information, I guess, on those dealings. Then they were going to kill him.”

“So you think they might have killed Sherman Clancy?”

“It’s possible, certainly. Seems like they might have had a strong motive.”

“None of ’em were carryin’ ID. We’re runnin’ prints and such, but they haven’t come back yet. Point is, we don’t know who they are. May never know. And if we don’t we can’t connect ’em to the Rebel Yell.”

“What exactly do you know about the Rebel Yell?” asked Robie. “I’ve just heard local gossip.”

Monda’s expression became guarded as he tapped his fingers on the desk. “They’re a big company. They got some locals on their board and runnin’ some of their operations. But the real ownership is sort of a mystery. Could be Chinese or Saudis runnin’ the place for all I know.”

“And they seem to be incredibly profitable. Able to build all this stuff out of their cash flow,” said Robie.

“That’s the word hereabouts, yes. But they’re a big employer. Pay a lot in taxes. They got politicians in Jackson lined up to support ’em. You’re talkin’ tens of millions of dollars and thousands of jobs and for a place like Mississippi, it’s hard to mess with that.”

“But if they’re doing something illegal?” said Robie.

“Well, we got to prove that. And I don’t see anythin’ here that would do that.”

“It’ll involve some digging,” said Robie.

“I don’t have the manpower or resources to dig unless I got some probable cause to do so,” countered Monda.

“Do you mind if we do some digging?” asked Robie.

“I don’t want nobody gettin’ hurt, includin’ you two.”

“If the Rebel Yell had an incentive to kill Sherm Clancy, then that’s a defense for my father in his murder trial.”

“I’m aware of that,” replied Monda. “But what I’m tellin’ you is that you go stickin’ your nose in places like the Rebel Yell, don’t think that the Cantrell Police Department can protect you if things go sideways.”

“We would never think that,” said Reel in mild disgust. She rose. “Can we go now? I could use some shut-eye. It’s been a long night.”

Monda stared up at her. “Didn’t think they let women in special forces stuff. More of a man’s world, right?”

“Well, you know the old saying: ‘If you want it done, send a man. If you want it done right, send a woman.’”

Reel turned and walked out.

Taggert had to look away so Monda would not see the smile on her face.

Monda eyed Robie. “She always that—?”

“—decisive? Yeah.”

Robie stood. “If you need us for anything else, Taggert can get hold of us.”

“Robie, I meant what I said. My job is to uphold the law. But takin’ on the folks at the Rebel Yell? Well, let’s just say we’re not equipped for that.”

“I hear you,” said Robie. “But it’s my father’s life on the line. So whatever road will get him off, I’m going down it. Rebel Yell included.”

After he left, Monda eyed Taggert.

“So what do you think ’bout all this, Sheila?”

She considered this for a moment.

“Well, sir, if I were the folks they’re goin’ after, I think I’d be shittin’ my pants.”