Where There's Smoke (4 page)

Ross stood, dusted off his jeans. “Let’s head to the office, we’ll start there.”

“Why?” Red sounded confused as he followed Ross out the door.

“I don’t know, it just seems right.” Surrounded by his partner’s things, in his home, had too many memories. He couldn't think and he needed a clear head to plan, to move forward. And as Red said, to bust a nut on somebody.

Chapter 4

Ross grimaced as he pulled into the company parking lot. Some of their employees were in the area, and if his guess was correct, a few were inside. Red met him at his truck door and they walked inside, nodding greetings to everyone. The silence in the building as the two of them walked in, side-by-side did not go unnoticed.

“Mornin’, Ms. Connie.” Red nodded in her direction.

“Mornin’, Red, Ross.” She didn’t look up, her voice sad. “Sheriff’s in the conference room. He wants to talk to you.”

Ross schooled his face to hide his surprise. He had a decent relationship with the local police, especially since their office was near Thumb Correctional and a few of their graduates worked for him. Three X Construction was a showpiece touting the success of the Prison Build Program in the state, and he was on a first name basis with many of the wardens throughout the state.

“Thanks.” He glanced at Red, who’d starting walking in the opposite direction. “Let’s go,” he called out. Heading toward the conference room, he heard the heavy tread of Red’s boots behind him. When Ms. Connie said the Sheriff was here, Ross assumed it was a deputy. Sheriff Jeremiah Planks stood looking at the awards the company had won over the years that covered the wall.

His heart stuttered and then raced. Ms. Connie’s sad demeanor took on a completely new meaning. Did the Sheriff have news of Smoke? Shit, he wasn’t ready for this, he glanced at Red, the color had drained from his face and his jaw clenched.

“Good Mornin’,” Ross said, watching carefully as the Sheriff turned, a small smile on his face. The Sheriff’s smile faded as he looked at him and then Red. With measured movement, he stepped away from the wall and stood, legs braced apart.

“Mornin,” he said slowly, his eyes taking in the both of them.

No one said anything for a moment.

“Ms. Connie said you wanted to see us,” Ross said when the silence drew out longer than he’d like.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you some questions.” He glanced at a pad in his hand and back at them. “We had a situation come up with one of your employees. But I think something else is going on here.” He paused. “Where’s Smoke?” The Sheriff looked toward the door and then back at them.

“He’s not here yet.” Ross frowned, as relief poured through him. “Which employee? What situation?” He pulled out a chair and sat at the large conference table. Red walked to the coffee maker and started a pot. The Sheriff glanced at both of them again before pulling out another small tablet from his pocket.

“A fella named Andre Bradley. He worked for you a month or so ago. Came out of Saginaw’s program last year.” He looked up from the paper. Ross wondered if that was the same man who had run into Cherise in Big Lakes.

“We had a white guy named Andre working here a few months ago. Medium height and build, dark brown shoulder-length hair, crooked nose, leg drug a lil bit. I’d have to look in his file for his last name. I didn’t work with him very much.”

“Hmmm.” The Sheriff wrote something down. “What about you, Red? You work with him?”

“Yeah, I did. He half-worked, took a lot of smoke breaks and didn’t show up for work detail the last three weeks on the Big Lakes job.”

“He stopped coming? Did he hang around anybody? Have any friends? Talk about anything with you?” The questions were cannonball fast. Ross remembered a time that technique would've made him nervous.

“We didn’t talk, he answered my questions. Ate lunch off to the side by himself, kind of a loner,” Red said between sips of coffee. “Want a cup?” he offered the room at large.

“Naw, I’m good,” Ross said. A cup of coffee meant this conversation could drag out. The Sheriff wasn’t dumb. He’d expect Smoke to come in soon. Ross desperately wished that would happen.

“I’d appreciate it,” Sheriff Planks smiled and walked in the direction of the pot. Red handed the shorter man a cup, and looked at Ross over the bent head of their guest. His message clear, get rid of the Sheriff.

“Do you think this is the same person?” Ross asked to get the conversation moving.

Sheriff Planks nodded as he blew the steam from the dark brew. His mustache and pale lips stuck out, as he took the first sips. The light bounced off the shiny bald spot on the top of his head. Obviously, he planned to wait them out.

“Yeah, sounds like him.” He swallowed and moaned his appreciation. Ross had always thought the Sheriff was a fair man with a stellar mind and compact frame. He'd never given them any trouble, even went out of his way to make sure they were left alone. Right now, he wished the man was anywhere but in his building.

“What’d he do?” Red asked, sitting on the corner of the table.

The Sheriff snorted. “It’s what someone did to him.”

Ross straightened. Red’s brow rose. Both men waited for the Sheriff to continue.

“Somebody messed him up pretty badly before they killed him. His face is the only thing untouched.”

“What the fuck?” Red whispered before running his hand over his head. “Damn.”

“When?” Ross asked. He wondered if this was connected to Smoke’s disappearance.

“His body turned up near Dupont Airport. Someone stumbled across the body and called it in Sunday morning. Time of death may have been ten or so hours before that.” He paused. “Where were you guys Saturday?”

“Saturday morning we had a class in Flint,” Red said. “And then around ten that morning we left for a wedding in Lansing, spent the night and came home around three o’clock on Sunday.”

“Both of you?”

“Yeah,” Ross smiled. “Cherise was the maid of honor and Denise was a bridesmaid. Red’s two girls and my daughter were the flower girls.” He and Red chuckled.

“The girls stole the limelight from the bride,” Red said, his face relaxed for the first time this morning.

“Yeah, it was good,” Ross said. He glanced in the direction of the silent Sheriff. The man stared at them in tandem.

“Damn, I wouldn’t have believed it.” He smiled and took a gulp of the hot liquid. “Congratulations on domesticated bliss. It looks good on you. Both of you.”

Ross grinned although his face heated. Red’s face turned a bright cherry tomato color. “Thanks,” Ross said, a liberated feeling flowed through him as he accepted the label.

“Anyway,” the Sheriff continued as he threw the cup in the trash. “If you think of anything else let me know.” He headed toward the door and looked at them. “I know most ex-cons have a tip-toe policy around cops, but I’d like to think you’d call me personally if you needed to discuss something. I’m not blind. I saw the news with the dead girl in Detroit, and the dead woman in Big Lakes. The Governor uses the success of this company like a Poster Child. Everyone’s proud of your accomplishments, especially around here. We don’t take kindly to folks shitting in our town.” He stared at a stunned Ross and Red. “One of our patrols spotted a couple of men lurking around the building Saturday afternoon. We stepped up security and now come by here regularly after hours.” He paused and stared at each man in turn. “Nobody pisses in my backyard. Before you mess things up, come talk to me, ya hear?”

Words stuck to the back of Ross’s throat, it’d been a long time since anyone other than his boys stepped up like this. Touched, he couldn’t speak, so he nodded.

“Thanks, man,” Red coughed out.

Sheriff Planks nodded and walked out the door.

“Damn, I don’t know which shocked me more, Andre’s death or having the police looking out for me.” Red chuckled dryly as he stood and threw away his cup. He sat in front of Ross, a puzzled expression stamped across his features. “What the fuck’s going on? The Sheriff just told me to talk to him if I’m having a problem. I didn’t know they did that shit.”

Ross shrugged. “Poster boys, remember. Michigan gets money and serious bragging rights from the prisons here. Remember that deal with them shipping those prisoners from California to Michigan to the old maximum security prison—“ He snapped his fingers. “I can’t remember the name of it, but there’s money in incarceration.”

“And what? We’re the geese with the golden eggs?”

“Could be.” Red shook his head as Ross stood and headed to his office. They needed to get started on tracking Smoke down. The Sheriff’s visit threw off his schedule. He made a mental note for Ms. Connie to send flowers to Andre’s people for the funeral.

Ross closed his office door behind Red and discovered Jamie and Carlos, two men from Smoke’s team, in his office. He’d forgotten all the cars outside. Frowning, he placed his briefcase on the desk and greeted them. At this rate, he’d never get any work done.

“Mornin’, Jamie, Carlos.” He nodded at each man, recognizing the concerned looks on their faces.

“Mornin’, Boss.”

“Mornin’”

“What's up?” Ross asked, watching Red pace the back of the room, full of nervous energy.

“We waited until eight o’clock Saturday night for Smoke and he never showed up,” Jamie said. “I called his cell, left a bunch a messages and he never called back. That’s not like ‘em, not a’tall.”

Ross’s heart leapt at the mention of Smoke’s name. Red stopped in his tracks and stared, breathing hard before he pulled up a chair, sat and gave the men his full attention.

“Start from the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”

The two men told them Smoke had asked them to keep an eye on the building and they’d seen a couple of men looking around on Saturday. They wanted to grab the men, but Smoke had them stand down. He was supposed to meet them at the office seven pm that night. But he never showed.

Ross sat back in his chair, staring at the men without seeing them. Operating on the probability of Smoke’s kidnapping, he recreated a possible time-line. “I wonder if the college where the class was held has parking lot cameras.”

Red jumped up. “I’m on it.” He dashed out the door.

“Smoke didn’t want us to jump those two guys. He said there may a been more.” Jamie turned to Carlos. “We never seened nobody else, did we?”

“No, nobody other than those dogs from the bar,” Carlos said.

“Bar?” Ross asked, his interest piqued. Cameron, one of Geary’s slaves, had worked at a nearby bar before Red’s brothers had taken him. “What bar and why didn’t you say you knew the two men.”

“I do not know them personally. I see them around from time to time. They are bad news,” Carlos added, nodding.

“Can you identify them? Point them out to me?’ Ross asked, staring at the man. His heartbeat slowed, and his breathing leveled. It was time to get some answers.

“Sì
. I believe so.” Carlos grinned sheepishly at Ross and then his friend. “I went to the club last night to play pool. And I look for them. They were not there. We can go again tonight if you want.”

“That’ll work.” He needed to make some calls and get things in order. He looked at the men again, they hadn’t moved. “Something else?” he asked, his brow rose.

“Yeah,” Jamie said, clearing his throat. “The men here today ask’n us to talk to ya.” He paused looking at Ross. “I think ya need to talk to us as a group. Everyone’s on edge, not knowing what’da expect, a few have some ideas and just so ya know, there’s talk a few have retaliated or are planning to do something. I really think ya need to get ahead of this before things get ugly.”

Red stormed into the room. “They have cams in the parking lot and said we could look at them.” He looked at Ross who stared at the men. “What the fuck’s going on now?” Red growled walking further into the office.

“We need to talk to the men,” Ross said watching the relief in Jamie’s eyes.

“Now?” Red hissed. Ross looked at him.

“Yeah, now. It’s important.” He looked at Jamie and Carlos. “How many men are here?”

“Around fifteen, core group. We didn’t talk to anyone with less than two years,” Jamie answered. So even the men noticed the substandard training from the newer employees and didn’t trust them.

Carlos stood. “I’ll round’em up, where do you want us?”

Ross walked over to Red sensing the man vibrated with the urge to throw something. “The conference room should work; grab some folding chairs from the closet. Give us five minutes and we’ll be there.” Jamie nodded and followed Carlos out the room.

“Talk to me,” Red growled.

Ross placed his hand on Red’s shoulder, wincing as light tremors moved under his hand. “Calm down. We have to put out some fires here first.”

“Fires?” Red scowled, but didn’t shake his hand off. At least he was willing to listen. So much had happened in the past two hours. The morning had been full of surprises. He’d tucked away the Sheriff’s comments until later when he could focus on the words.

“Yeah, the men have a vested interest in everything and have decided to get involved. They want to talk to us and we need to listen or we may not have a company.” He squeezed Red’s shoulder. Thankfully, the tremors had stopped. “After we meet with them, we can make some plans. Don’t go off half-cocked, we need to be strategic.”

“Smoke’s the strategic one,” Red scoffed.

Ross nodded. “Well, now you’re about to learn and handle it like a pro. On the real side man, we have families, those men have families. I’m down for taking this to another level. No matter what, Smoke comes back here. But I’d like to save the company and stay out of prison while I handle my business, you feeling me?”

“Yeah,” Red sighed. “It’s hard thinking he’s out there somewhere, and not knowing the situation. What if his life is hanging right now and another two-hour’s is too late? How do I handle knowing I coulda saved him, but I sat at a meeting talking? That’s the kinda shit fucking with me right now.”

“I hear you. Remember, these men have been around. They’re street smart and collectively know a lot of people. What if one of them knows something that could help you find Smoke in that same two-hour window? There’s nothing wrong with gathering information, see what resources they have. We may need their help in all this. Bottom line is this, Frank and Roark told us a while back these men are ex-cons that have flipped into survival mode. It’s better to lead, than get left behind. This meeting is a courtesy, to us. They’ve already started some shit.”