Chapter
53
YOU MEAN YOU’RE not even going to talk to them?”
Robie was staring at Sheriff Monda.
Pete had given his statement and signed it. He was now in protective custody, which in Cantrell meant he was sitting in a spare jail cell.
The man had not been happy about it, but it was better than being dead, Robie had told him.
Taggert was hovering next to her boss, looking extremely nervous.
Reel was watching all of this while leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest.
“Do you know who Nelson Wendell is, or was?” asked Monda.
“Yeah, some über-rich asshole who likes to play with children in a very inappropriate and illegal way.”
“Solely based on Pete Clancy’s word and the admission that he was trying to blackmail those folks.”
“We have pictures.”
“Of a younger man who may or may not be Nelson Wendell.”
“If Wendell was that well-known I think we’ll be able to find folks who can ID him in those pictures,” Reel pointed out. “Are you sure you don’t recognize him, Sheriff?”
Monda glared at her. “No, I don’t. I never met the man. And another thing is the statute of limitations has long since run out on this. Which means he couldn’t be prosecuted for this, even if he wasn’t dead.”
Reel said, “You’re forgetting about those guys who kidnapped Pete and Sara, and nearly killed me and Robie. And they might have killed Sara, too. Those are all new crimes.”
“And we don’t have one shred of proof that those fellows are connected to the Wendell family,” countered Monda.
“But if you investigate you may find that evidence,” pointed out Robie.
“Do you know how influential the Wendell family is in Mississippi, hell, all the way over to Atlanta, for that matter? They’re worth billions. And they give a lot of it away. And all told they account for over a hundred thousand good-paying jobs.”
“Which is all wonderful but not an excuse to commit crimes,” replied Robie curtly.
Monda hitched up his pants. “Well, I don’t have probable cause to investigate them for anythin’. Probably get my ass sued if I tried.”
“Then turn it over to the state police.”
“Same problem. They’re not lookin’ to take a black eye over this, either, based on some old pictures. Hell, they might’ve been doctored for all I know.”
“What about Pete?”
“Pete Clancy is a liar. I’m not riskin’ my career on anythin’ he says! And the Wendell lawyers would rip him a new one on the stand.”
“How about the FBI?” asked Reel. “I doubt they care how rich the Wendells are.”
“You can go there if you want. I’m not.”
“Is there something you’re not telling us?” asked Robie.
Monda looked away but Taggert said, “His wife and his brother and his son are employed by Coastal.”
“That has nothin’ to do with it, Sheila,” barked Monda, giving Taggert a scathing look.
“Are you sure about that?” asked Robie.
“Damn sure. Now if you can bring me some usable evidence, maybe my mind can be changed.” He pointed a finger at Robie. “It’s all well and good for you to want to go after those folks, but you don’t live here. You just flit in and out. But I can’t do that. This is my home.”
Robie looked at Taggert, then returned his gaze to Monda. “Well, we’ll see if we can get enough to change your mind, Sheriff.”
“Okay, but keep in mind if the Wendells come after you, don’t look for any help from me. Not ’less you got some strong evidence they’re connected to all this.”
“Message received loud and clear,” said Robie as Taggert gave him a sympathetic look.
Robie and Reel left the office.
Outside Taggert caught up to them.
“Monda is a good guy, Robie. But he’s caught between a rock and a hard place here.”
“I get that, Sheila. But it’s apparently up to us to do his job.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Check out the Wendells. Any help you can give us on that?”
“Their main house is up in Jackson. But they keep a place down on the Gulf over near Biloxi. Makes the Willows look like a shanty.”
She gave them the address. “They’re there this time of year.”
“Do you know anything about the family?”
“Norma Jean is the mother, the widow of Nelson. There’re a bunch of grown kids and then grandkids. I hear tell that Bobby Wendell, the oldest boy, is runnin’ things now. He’s the only son. The others are daughters. They get their share of the money and they all live wonderful lives, but they have nothin’ to do with the business.”
“So Bobby’s the one taking the company public?”
“That’s right.”
“How do you know so much about them?” asked Reel.
“Everybody down here knows about the Wendells. Sort of like royalty to us. And the sheriff is right, they do a lot of good. Names on hospitals and museums and colleges all across the south. Good, charitable folks. And they provide a lot of jobs.”
“So why are you helping us then?” Reel wanted to know, her tone suspicious.
“I don’t have anybody worth carin’ about that works for Coastal. And I don’t like folks gettin’ away with shit, no matter the size of their bank account. Especially when it involves kids.”
“Works for me,” said Reel.
They left Taggert and walked back to their car.
“So how do you want to approach this?” Reel asked.
Robie leaned against the fender of the car.
“They have to know that their guys were killed. And the ones who got away are probably long since gone. If they were outside contractors we may not be able to trace a connection unless we get ahold of financial records showing transfers of money to the muscle.”
“And even if we had access, Coastal probably has lots of slush funds to ferry money like that around and make it untraceable.”
“Agreed. And despite what I said to Monda, I doubt the FBI will be interested in pursuing this with the little we can tell them.”
Reel said, “And Wurtzburger is after a serial killer, not a corporate titan run amok.”
“If the cops can’t tie the dead guys to Coastal that is a complete dead end. Even with Pete’s testimony. Monda is right. Pete is not going to be seen as a reliable witness. Blackmailer, yes. Honest citizen telling the truth, no.”
“Which gets me back to my question: How do we do this?”
“Sometimes the direct approach is the best.”
“So go to Bobby Wendell?” said Reel.
“Yeah.”
“With what?”
“With the only leverage we have.”
“Which is?” she asked.
“Pictures of his dear old dad playing with kids.”
Chapter
54
BOBBY WENDELL LOOKED up at the pair.
“I don’t usually encourage visitors without an appointment.”
Robie and Reel were in the palatial Gulf Coast retreat of the Wendell family that looked more like a Ritz-Carlton resort than an individual home.
The rich weren’t just unlike other people—they apparently lived on an entirely different planet.
“And yet here we are,” said Robie.
“Well, your communication was…provocative.”
Bobby Wendell was taller than Robie, lean with longish graying hair and a slab of rock for a chin. His dark green, penetrating eyes held on the pair as he sat on a couch with sweeping views of the water.