Page 2 of Every Deadly Suspicion

Somehow Blake and Sophia had found him. And they told Chase.

Sure enough, Chase came into view. He walked to the front of the Jeep and stood, staring at the trailer, hands on his hips. Buckley’s presence threw Joe for a loop. The guy’s family practically owned the whole county, cops included. What did he want here?

“I know Joe’s in there.” Blake stepped up to Chase’s side.

“Is he armed?”

It took a minute for the second voice to register. It wasn’t Blake; it was geeky Marcus Marshall of all people. Joe caught Marshall flirting with Paula once and punched him out. A total loser, he hung out with Buckley purely for protection.

“Naw, Joe wouldn’t be dumb enough to have a gun,” Blake said.

Joe slapped his forehead. Marshall. Joe remembered seeing the geek at the 7-Eleven when he’d picked up some water. Marshall followed him.

That’s what Joe got for not being more careful. All he was thinking was that he’d be done with this for good. They’d found him and they’d want a cut of what he’d just cooked. He couldn’t go back to Paula and tell her he’d lost half of the money from this batch. Now what was he gonna do?

Muttering under his breath, Joe tried to figure a way out.

“We know you’re in there, Joe,” Chase called out. “Come on out. I’ve got a proposition for you. It could make us both a lot of money.”

Joe looked around the trailer’s kitchen, which had served him so well. He’d done a lot of stupid things in his life, but getting involved with Chase would be the stupidest. The guy was a loose cannon, a wild card, and Joe wanted no part of the spoiled, rich jerk.

“Joe, we found you. Other people will, too.” Sophia spoke now.

“You’ve been holding out on your partners,” Blake yelled. “You deserve to be spanked.”

“We’ll forgive you. But the only way out is to make a deal with us.” Chase again.

There was another way out. Joe already had planned to destroy the kitchen. The people outside would witness the destruction. The booby trap was dangerous for those standing too close to the trailer, maybe even deadly. Joe refused to consider the consequences. He didn’t invite them here. He flicked the booby-trap switch and hurried for the back of the trailer. With all the caustic chemicals, it would not take much to level the place.

He lifted a hatch in the floor and dropped to the ground as he heard the front door get kicked in. Lying flat, his breath fled as the frigid air hit. He pushed himself out from under the trailer, stood as soon as he could, and then ran. Slipping and sliding in the thin layer of snow on the ground, Joe didn’t dare look back.

He’d just reached his motorcycle when the trailer exploded. Joe flinched and looked back, saw the plume of smoke billowing. He shivered in spite of the exertion. At least Blake and Sophia were together. He could care less about Chase and Marshall.

Joe collapsed in a fit of coughing. That always happened after he cooked and then came out into the fresh winter air. For a minute he struggled for breath, his lungs burning.

One day all this cooking would be the death of him.

Slowly his breath returned to normal, and Joe hopped on the bike and sped away, heading for Dry Oaks, Paula, and his new life.

DEA Agent Gilly surveyed the burned-out trailer site. In the week since the explosion and fire, all the evidence had been collected by local police. Brett kicked through what remained in case they’d missed anything important. He found nothing. Rubbing his hands together, he regretted not having worn gloves.

The explosion was textbook meth-lab booby trap. Gilly could see it in his mind’s eye—the cooker in the trailer was surprised, his lab had been discovered. He flipped the trap switch and fled as the lab blew.

Tuolumne County was fortunate the fire had been knocked down quickly. Light snowfall and cold temperatures had helped. Deep in the forest, on county land, the trailer fire could have caused lots more damage. As for the two people injured, they werelucky as well. Sophia Carson got the worst of it, with second- and third-degree burns on her hands and arms and a serious case of smoke inhalation. Blake Carson was barely singed.

Deputies arrested him at the hospital where his wife was admitted for burns and smoke inhalation. They didn’t believe his story, and because of his record, they wanted to charge him with the lab and the fire. He’d been in custody during their investigation, but ultimately they had to kick him loose because they didn’t have enough evidence to hold him over for trial.

He was guilty, though. Gilly’s instinct told him that. Carson had a rap sheet filled with drug crimes. He’d claimed he and his wife had wandered upon the trailer while hiking and made the mistake of opening the door. Neither one was dressed for hiking, and no hiking trails appeared anywhere near the trailer. The Carsons were driven to the hospital by Chase Buckley, who said he was in the area trying out his four-wheel drive. He heard the explosion, drove over to investigate, and rescued them.

Gilly didn’t believe any of them.

He hated liars and he hated meth. Somewhere in this county his little brother had bought the first dose of meth that hooked him. Now he couldn’t kick the habit, his life was wasted. Gilly was on a mission to put as many cookers out of business and in jail as possible. This burned-out trailer was half the prize—it would no longer produce—but he had to find the cook and put him behind bars.

There was evidence that someone else had been at the scene and fled. Not far from where the trailer was parked, tire tracks were found from a motorcycle. The bike had left in a hurry, digging a deep rut. The rut froze and left a perfect track.

Buckley and the Carsons knew more than they were saying, Gilly was certain. He also had a hunch that the cooker was JoeKeyes. For Gilly, it was simply putting two and two together. Keyes and Blake Carson were known associates. They’d been arrested twice together in the past. Keyes was known to own a motorcycle, but so far, the local cops had not been able to locate it. Gilly had met Sheriff Peterson, and he had to wonder how hard the guy had searched. He didn’t appear to be very motivated.

The two closest towns to the trailer’s location were Twain Harte and Dry Oaks. Carson and Keyes stayed in Dry Oaks. Buckley’s family owned most of Dry Oaks.

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