Crazy Like a Fox (Lil & Boris #3) (Lil & Boris Mysteries) by Shannon Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

could deal with that , he received a call that Roger was holding off two county cops with a shotgun up at Aunt Marge’s, and wanted them arrested for trespassing. They left before Punk got there, but Roger had needed a half-hour talk to get calmed down again, and when Punk left, Roger was calling some buddies from his military days, quite possibly arranging for an airstrike against Vernon Rucker’s house.
    Some of the county cops were going door-to-door, conscientiously and quietly and politely asking if anyone knew anything. Punk conceded that. But then he found one of Vernon’s pets‌—‌a guy I vaguely knew, last name of Owens‌—‌at my house. He’d cut the tape on the door and was trying to force the lock on my safe. Owens was nearly fifty, built like a boulder, known for his ability to cold-cock someone with a punch. Punk put him in handcuffs and tossed him into one of our two comfy cells to think over his sins.
    Which was when Punk called Harry Rucker. One man could not withstand Vernon Rucker and his barbarian horde. Unfortunately, Harry was up to his eyeballs in work, Tom was in Charlottesville, and Breeden had his own job to do. Punk was on his own.
    Just as Punk sat down to a somewhat delayed lunch, the K&R consultant arrived. He and Rucker drove together up to the Eller estate, leaving Punk out of the conference.
    As far as Punk was concerned, enough was enough. He declared war on Vernon Rucker and the county police. First, he found Tanya Hartley, an adequate public defender Tom had been dating for some months, and got her help filing an injunction against the county police’s activities. Then he deputized Roger and Maury Morse, and started arresting any of Rucker’s boys they could find, on charges ranging from parking violations to misdemeanor trespassing to, in one case, DUI. Message received, the county police retreated.
    I sank my head into my hands and started petting Boris. It helps lower my blood pressure.
    “And while you two were playing Keystone Kops,” I said in a low voice that set Boris’s tail to fluffing, “was anyone actually investigating the abduction and ransom demand?”
    Tom and Punk burst into counter-accusations. When they ran out of things to say, I was still waiting for a real answer.
    “I didn’t get anything up in Charlottesville except promises to help,” said Tom, “so I came on back and found the Lone Ranger over here with a jail full of county boys.”
    “More than you had to show for the day,” Punk shot back.
    I smacked my hand down on my desk. Big mistake. My eyes about crossed. It did get their attention. “ What did you do about the case ?”
    They both would have squirmed, but I think they were scared I’d shoot them.
    “That K&R guy‌—‌Clausen? Claren?”
    Punk interrupted, “Steven Clay.”
    I nodded my thanks for the information.
    Tom went on huffily, “The K&R guy was here when I got back, he wanted to coordinate. He’s done some overseas stuff like this, he said to pay the ransom and they’d drop you on our doorstep by midnight at the latest.”
    Now I was getting somewhere. “So they’d called again to set up the ransom drop?”
    “About an hour before the drop,” Punk confirmed, “at least that’s what the Ellers say.”
    “Did they call the Ellers directly or did they call the corporate line again? Did anyone think to trace the original call?”
    Tom hesitated. Punk looked away.
    “I don’t expect it of Rucker,” I said as calmly as I could, which wasn’t very, “but you two know enough. Or ought to.”
    Punk hunched up his shoulders. “Am I allowed to tell you anything I learned without a warrant?”
    I stopped dead in my mental tracks. Fruit of the poison tree, I think the lawyers call it. Whatever you call it, it means if you get evidence illegally, you can kiss the case good-bye unless the suspect has a real dogfood-for-brains lawyer. On the other hand, I wasn’t working the case. That was still up to Rucker and, to a