Page 40 of Delivering David

“Okay. Hope this helps.”

She stood and walked to where Miller had opened the door. Once she was gone, he said, “We’ve got them, Brower. It’s just a matter of time. You’ve done damn good work on this case. Sydney Phillips would be proud of you. And for the last time man, his death wasn’t your fault.”

After he was gone, they sat in silence until Suzanne asked, “What did he mean, Syd’s death wasn’t your fault?”

He closed his eyes and bowed his head and she watched the mix of emotions play across his handsome face. Then he looked at her, sat back and said, “It’s time I tell you about the night Sydney Phillips died.”

CHAPTER 28

“KPD had been watchinga local crime family for years.” Kristopher’s hands curled over his knees. “Especially Syd Phillips and me. The McClintocks are an old East Tennessee crime family who got their start running moonshine during Prohibition. Any new criminal or drug enterprise came along, they’d get on board first. Old man Harvey McClintock–we called him Clint–was probably among the first to get involved in the ‘90’s opioid epidemic but no one could ever catch them. They were that good. We knew they had contacts all over the Southeast, but even with inter-state cooperation, and a few minor busts, we could never shut them down. Anyone arrested always clammed up because with the McClintocks, you talk, you die.”

“They sound scary,” Suzanne said. “A lot like The Cadre.”

“You got that right,” Kristopher agreed. “I’ve heard recently that the McClintocks weren’t too happy when The Cadre moved into East Tennessee earlier this year, but for some reason, have left them alone. Maybe they wanted to be sure who they were dealing with before they made a fuss.”

“Okay,” Suzanne said. “What else?”

“Clint brought his youngest son Bobby into the organization. Bobby had just graduated from college and thought he was smarter than everyone else, including his old man. But he was Clint’s favorite son and whatever Bobby wanted, Daddy gave it to him.”

“Young and dumb?” Suzanne guessed.

“Dumb like you wouldn’t believe,” Kristopher confirmed, his eyes still on his hands.

“What happened?”

Kristopher’s slow intake of breath looked as if it pained him. “In 2010, we got a tip from Zach, a snitch I used. His info was always right, so I thought I could trust him. He’d sometimes go underground for months, but in 2010 he gave us a tip that Bobby would be picking up a large supply of Oxycontin and cocaine originally from some pill mill in Florida. Turned out it was laced with Fentanyl, making it twice as deadly. The tip led to us catching Bobby and the courier exchanging a bag for money. Our drug dogs, Betsy and Hammer nearly ate the car looking for the rest of the stuff. Street value was half a million. Bobby was sentenced to thirty years and Clint let it be known that sooner or later, we–me, Syd and Zach were dead men.”

“Go on,” Suzanne whispered, her heart aching for this incredible man she’d only known a few days. She longed to embrace him, to offer him some comfort, but kept her hands where they were. On his.

“I decided a change of scene would do me good. With my experience investigating and then helping get kids out of abusive homes, I was placed in a special unit. After five years, I came home and returned to the states and started at KPD again. That was about the time Syd got married. I was best man at his wedding–” His voice trailed away.

“Go on,” Suzanne coaxed.

“A little over five years ago, McClintock managed to find Zach. I don’t know where Zach was while I was in Europe and I was always his main contact and he rarely came forward while I was gone. That should have been my first clue. Then Zach approached me with a story about Big Daddy moving underage girls into town. Really young girls. Do you know who Big Daddy is?”

“The pimp that tried to kill Elaine,” Suzanne said. “Yes, I know about him. What else?”

“Zach’s story was all a lie of course because at the time Big Daddy didn’t even touch underage girls, so that should have been my second clue that something about Zach’s story didn’t quite add up. But since his info to me in the past was always right, and there had been a similar bust in Chattanooga, I believed him. We set up a meeting to watch the girls arrive and wound up walking into an ambush.”

“And Sydney Phillips died,” Suzanne guessed.

“We got to the meeting site and saw the truck that supposedly had the girls,” Kristopher continued. “Zach drove up in this old Thunderbird he always drove. But it wasn’t him driving or who got out of the car as we got out of ours. The passenger door opened and a guy got out and started shooting. I took one in the shoulder but Syd took one in the chest. I managed to hit the shooter and then the driver, killing them both. By the time Grant Miller answered my summons for help, Syd was dead.”

“Oh, Kristopher,” Suzanne whispered. “Why did Zach betray you?”

“In the years I was gone, Zach developed a taste for oxycontin and cocaine.” Kristopher looked past her at the wall. “Clint bribed him with as much of the stuff he wanted to set up the phony meeting. Zach spent a month getting sober before he came to me, so even though he looked a little rough, I thought he was being straight with me. But drugs can turn even the most honest person into a liar. And I fell for the lie and my best friend and partner died. We found out later Clint killed Zach as soon as the hit was over.”

“What happened to Clint? Was he discovered?”

Kristopher’s harsh laugh held not the slightest trace of humor. “Talk about honor among thieves. One of Clint’s minions boasted about the whole thing to an undercover cop who was posing as a bartender. Got the whole thing on tape and we busted Clint’s operation to hell. But it didn’t matter a damn because Syd was dead. If I’d trusted my instincts, Syd and I would have gone in with backup and he’d be alive today. As soon as the investigation was over, I ran back to Europe without saying goodbye to Mercy and David, like the coward I am. And that’s all she wrote, Miz Bennett.”

“You are not a coward.” Suzanne struggled to keep her voice from breaking. “You’ve put yourself in harm’s way ever since we met. You’d trusted Zach before because he was reliable. He betrayed you for drugs. You couldn’t have known what he was going to do that time.”

“You think?” Now Kristopher’s tone was sarcastic. “You know what? I’m tired. Tired of not cracking this case yet, tired of the memories. I think I’m going to shower and go to bed. Good night, Suzanne.”

She let him go, even though she longed to follow him. Give him some other kind of comfort, some reassurance. But her counselor’s training told her that this was a battle Kristopher Brower needed to fight on his own.

And so, she went to bed. But sleep was a long time coming.

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