Protector - Laurel Dewey [163]
So, Jane thought, if this was the corruption that Bill Stover was prepared to reveal in court, where did it lead? Planting evidence, perhaps? Unfortunately, Jane knew that was nothing new for big city cops. Her mind went back to that silver cigarette case that mysteriously jumped from the Lawrence crime scene photo and into the supposed possession of the street bum. That was certainly a case of tampering with evidence and, possibly, planting of evidence. Or maybe it was all about losing key evidence so a criminal would walk. Sure, that was a consideration. However, if key pieces of evidence went missing on a regular basis, it would be too much of a red flag. The more Jane considered the possibilities, the more she crossed off the latter idea. Her gut told her that whoever did this would pick and choose the evidence very carefully so he or she would not draw attention to omission.
Weyler’s comment about trouble “downstairs” was an obvious tip-off to the results from the property room audit that Chris demanded. And when Weyler mentioned it, Jane remembered his voice becoming tense and evasive. Was he feeling the heat because it looked bad for his Department or was he feeling the screws tighten because he was part of the deceit? Jane tried to play the process through from beginning to end. Somebody was obviously screwing around with evidence and doing God knows what for God only knows what reason. This brought it all back to Ron Dickson, the “good Christian.” The soccer dad. The guy who collected money for D.A.R.E. The fellow who appeared naive but genuine to Jane. Could she have been wrong all along about this man? Or, perhaps, was someone using him higher up on the Department’s food chain? Jane knew that Ron would be an easy target to deceive. Between the massive confusion downstairs when large amounts of evidence poured in and Ron’s naturally trusting nature, someone he respected higher up in the Department could have slipped behind the counter and stolen key case evidence.
But for what bigger purpose? And, if that was the big corruption revelation that Bill Stover was prepared to disclose, how did the Texas mob fit into this theory? While no one was quite sure, the mob appeared to be pursuing the same old schemes: drugs and fronts for laundering money. They also seemed to have the finances to back them up as well as the power to put mortal fear into those who stood in their way. From the little Jane knew about them, they had to have a tightly-knit infrastructure, built upon blackmail and death threats. And when the Texas mob made a death threat against you, there was almost nothing you could do to prevent it.
They didn’t choose Bill Stover out of thin air. He was an easy blackmail target. You can’t be Denver’s “Entrepreneur of the Year” and also have a secret lust for coke and meth. You might as well walk around with a big “Blackmail Me!” sign on your chest. He willingly allowed his Denver convenience stores to be used as fronts for laundering money. Along the way, he befriended a few drugged out mob lackeys who carelessly bragged about who knew who protected what in Denver. It was a sweet deal for all concerned until law enforcement got wind of the shady dealings and made Stover a “lose-lose” offer he couldn’t refuse.
Jane considered the old “Follow the protection money” lament her dad mentioned. Stuck in Peachville, there was no way to do that. Even if she could research the trail via the telephone, it would take hours standing at The Pit Stop pay phone.
She looked back at the picnic photographs. Jane figured that by May 2 when the photos were snapped, Bill Stover knew he was headed for court and imminent house arrest. Staring at the faces of Bill and Yvonne, Jane noticed a stressed demeanor in their appearance. It was the same troubled look she caught on the faces of David and Patricia Lawrence when she saw their photo displayed on their refrigerator. Jane chalked that up to a bad day. But perhaps, there was more to it.
Given the fact that the two families were obviously very close friends,