The sour cherry surprise

“Sure, take her side,” muttered Grisky, just like a petulant little boy in need of a spanking. Trouble was, he’d probably enjoy it.

“I am not taking sides, Agent Grisky,” Brandon said abruptly. “And I would urge you to get on board or first thing tomorrow morning I will recommend you be drop-kicked from this operation.”

Grisky bristled but held his tongue, his chest rising and falling.

Des’s cell phone rang now. She glanced down at the illuminated screen, then excused herself and stepped out in the hallway, closing the door behind her.

Amber Sullivan was calling to tell her that Carolyn’s sister, Megan Chichester, had just arrived from Maine in her beat-up Chevy pickup. Upon being told the awful news about her brother-in-law, Megan had rushed over to Kimberly and Jen’s to be with Molly. She wished to see her sister as soon as possible, reported Amber.

“Absolutely,” Des said. “Carolyn is being treated at Middlesex Hospital. Can you tell Megan how to get there?”

Amber told Des that would be no problem. Des thanked her and returned to the conference room.

“Let’s review where we’re at, shall we?” Brandon said, glancing down at a lined yellow note pad as Des sat back down. “If no one was observed fleeing the crime scene then Professor Procter was most likely killed by a resident or residents of Sour Cherry Lane, correct?”

“Unless our search of the area tomorrow morning reveals evidence to the contrary,” Soave said. “And our prime suspect appears to be your boy Clay Mundy, with an assist by Hector Villanueva. Unless I’m missing something. Did anybody else have a good reason to be pissed off at the guy?”

“How about his wife?” Yolie asked. “She’s an all-out methrage monster. Also strong as a bull. I wouldn’t cross her off of my list.”

“Fair enough,” Soave said, turning to Des. “Anyone else?”

Des thought it over carefully before she replied, “Not that I’m presently aware of.”

“Then it seems we have ourselves a situation here,” Cavanaugh said. “It so happens that your prime suspect is the very same individual who is the target of our own investigation. Now what are we going to do about that? Because we do not want to compromise Operation Burrito King if we can avoid it.”

“I don’t wish to belabor the obvious,” Brandon said to him, “but this particular facet of our operation is already compromised. There is virtually no chance the crystal meth shipment from Atlanta will arrive here as planned. Not with the entire vicinity crawling with state police.”

“No chance,” the Aardvark concurred, thumbing his chin glumly. “You also got to figure that Mundy’s plenty spooked right about now. He’s pinned down there with a major stash and a murder rap hanging over him. I wonder why he and Hector didn’t just try to run?”

“Admission of guilt,” said Brandon.

“Plus they’re responsible for that ice,” Grisky added. “The Vargas family would not be happy about them ditching it. I’ve seen what they do to people who bail on them. Trust me, it ain’t pretty.”

“Those two can’t run and they can’t hide,” Soave said. “They are totally screwed.”

“And they’re in it together,” Yolie said. “Unless we can convince one to flip on the other.”

“So what’s our next move?” the Aardvark wondered. “Do we go ahead and show them our hand? Swoop down and nail them for possession with intent to distribute?”

“No way,” Grisky argued. “If we do that then this ends right here. We can’t connect it to the cartel.”

“Then again, maybe we can,” the Aardvark countered. “Clay and Hector are a pair of pros. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t expect either of them to rat out the Vargas family. But Mundy is staring at a murder charge. That gives us big-time leverage.”

“No question,” Brandon agreed. “And my office would certainly consider a plea deal in exchange for detailed sworn testimony about the Vargas operation. Depending on how far he’s willing to go, we might be able to reduce the whole package down to involuntary manslaughter.”

“Sure, he thought the professor was a prowler,” the Aardvark said, warming to it. “The man was defending his own home. He’d get, what, five years?”

“And shanked his first night in jail,” Grisky said.

“So promise him witness protection,” the Aardvark fired back. “I say we go right at him. And if he don’t want the deal then maybe Hector will. We can play one of them against the other, like Sergeant Snipes said.”