Page 38 of Deadly Deception
I started to get up, ready to go with him, but Boone held up a halting hand. “It’s okay. You stay here and discuss police things. I’ll be fine.”
I wasn’t so certain. “There might be a mole in the Sheriff’s office.” I hated to think this way, but it was the truth. “It might not be safe.”
Boone’s smile was indulgent. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a couple pockets full of Pops’s charms. If someone comes after me, they’ll be in for a shock and a lot of discomfort.”
“I’ll call Sara,” Henson said, already reaching for his phone. “She can take you to see Navarre. Maybe you can get him to eat something.”
Boone frowned. “He’s no better?”
Henson raised a hand and tilted it back and forth. “Maybe a little. Sara got him to drink some water and take a couple of bites of food, but that’s it. He is making eye contact and I think Navarre hears and understands us now, but he’s not very communicative.” Henson held up a finger and spoke into the receiver, “Sara, can you escort Erasmus Boone to see Navarre? Thanks.” Henson hung up the receiver and said, “Sara will be here shortly.”
No sooner had those words exited his mouth than Sara knocked on the door, opening it before Henson told her to come in. With a parting squeeze of my hand, Boone got up and followed Sara out the door. My chest squeezed when he left my sight.
“He’ll be fine,” Tompkins tried to assure me. “Sara will see to that.”
It wasn’t that I doubted Tompkins’s faith in his niece, it was more that I didn’t know the particulars of what we were dealing with. The unknown was always the scariest place to be in an investigation.
Giving my best nod of reassurance to Tompkins, I turned my attention back to our newly formed trio. Tompkins surprised me when he said, “You’ve got a leak, Alfonse.”
Sheriff Henson grumbled something low and unintelligible. “Thank you for pointing that out, Shane. I have no idea how I’d do my job if I didn’t have you telling me the fucking obvious.”
Tompkins didn’t seem offended. He simply shrugged and leaned back into his chair. “I just wanted to make certain we were all on the same page.”
Channeling Boone, I said, “I’d like to turn this page. This page sucks.”
Tompkins’s eyes widened and his lips quivered as he fought a grin. “You’re sense of humor has improved since you moved to Mississippi.”
“I don’t think it’s the state so much as Boone.”
My response seemed to short-circuit Tompkins’s brain. He sat there, staring at me like I’d either lost my mind or smacked my head on something hard and unyielding.
Interrupting my odd stare-off with Tompkins, Henson said, “I’ll be honest, I don’t know where to start. I’ve got a handful of employees that are more suspicious than the others, but those conclusions are based more on my gut than on actual physical evidence. I can start running down the bodies that were found and who was placed on those cases, although that will take time and unless there is a very common denominator, won’t be proof in and of itself.” Leaning back toward his desk, Henson’s elbows rested on the edge, chin cradled within his linked fingers. “Truth be told, I can’t believe Erasmus discovered so many deceased bodies. At best, that’s sloppy police work and at worst it’s…”
“A cover-up,” I finished.
Henson gave a reluctant nod.
“It could be more than one,” Tompkins said, and I think Henson and I both cringed. “I know none of us want to think or believe that, but it’s possible. If that’s the case, then it would have to be someone out there with a lot of pull.”
I knew the name I was thinking and Henson agreed. “Vanja,” Henson said with a growl. “This shouldn’t be possible.” Henson looked to Tompkins and asked, “I don’t mean to throw ageist stones, but this shit with Vanja went down in your time, not mine.”
I couldn’t agree more. While I’d heard rumors and campfire tales, Tompkins would have been an adult, probably already on the force.
Tompkins swallowed, and I swear it looked like he was barely keeping down his breakfast. Skin pale and pasty, Tompkins didn’t look well. His fingers gripped the arm of his chair, blanching his knuckles.
Henson and I shared a concerned look, and it was the sheriff who asked, “Are you okay, Shane? Do I need to get a—”
“I’m fine.” Tompkins shook his head. “Well, that’s not true. I’m far from fine. I’d hoped to never hear that name used in the present tense again. By all rights, it shouldn’t be used that way now.”
I scooted forward and gave Tompkins my full attention. “Who was he? Was he human or—”
“Vanja was human all right. At least that was his species designation. We can sit around and argue what makes someonehumanand if Vanja fit the ethical criteria.” Tompkins inhaled, his eyes slipping closed as memory took over. “It was a bad time. A really bad time.” Tompkins swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m not joking when I say the streets were stained red with blood. Vanja was ruthless. He ran a gang—more like a mob—and if you crossed him…death was your reward, and it was never a simple bullet to the heart or slice across the neck. It wasn’t clean. Vanja made it as messy as possible. Every death was meant to be a statement.”
“What did he peddle?” I asked. In my experience, even the most deranged boss was in it for the money.
Tompkins shrugged. “Whatever he could get his hands on. Vanja didn’t discriminate based on species. Drugs, charms, weapons, species trafficking… You name it, he profited off of it. The man probably tried his hand at everything. He became extremely powerful, buffered on all sides by a living wall of sycophants.”
I’d heard variations of similar stories over the years. What I didn’t know, was how Vanja had finally been brought to justice and asked just that. “Who ended him?”
