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“If it leads us to Whiskey, it just does. The SCU isn’t going to back off simply because the DEA is involved. I know the SAC. Never happen. He would work with you, but to back off a multiple homicide for meth—uh-uh. No go.”
John hadn’t heard from Greg since the funeral either. “I’m assuming you haven’t gotten any new leads on Callie’s death?”
For the first time since he’d sat down, Greg’s pain showed. He dropped his head and shook it. “I wish I did. Whiskey might have dirty hands, and he might have had Callie killed, but now with this serial killing connecting to her... I don’t think he’s a serial killer. He’s a rotten son of a goat, a dirty drug dealer and a murderer—though I need more proof—but not this kind of killing. It’s possible one of his crew is capable of it.”
“Name?”
“Nope. I don’t need you questioning him on a tip that will then stoke Whiskey’s paranoia with the question of who threw out the tip. He’s got good reason to be like a spring wound tight. It’s why he’s never been caught. Extra precautions. If your investigation leads to this crew member, then fine. But don’t expect holler folks to talk.”
John rolled his eyes. “I know about mountain living, Greg. I was raised in Hazard. I’m sick of hearing no one will talk. Someone is going to at some point.”
“Whiskey knows y’all are here. He’s got eyes everywhere, which is why I chose a bar two counties over. Even now, I’m not completely sure I’m out of harm’s way. Those eyes he’s got everywhere are on each one of you too. You’re too close to his operation.”
“What about the local sheriff? Why isn’t he doing anything about him?” Stupid question that John already knew the answer to.
Greg laughed. “Can’t say Modine is being bribed, but he knows. Some in the SO are on the take, some afraid. People who cross this man, they disappear. You understand? Gone. Poof! Earl Levine went missing two weeks ago. He was here, then he wasn’t. Days passed. They asked about him, but Whiskey said he wasn’t coming back. Rumor had it that a couple months back, he’d been messing around with Tillie LeBeau. Got a little rough with her, and not long after that he and Atta had an altercation. Earl was here. Now he’s gone. Now she’s gone too. Her and probably Tillie. I’ve said more than I ought to.”
“Not coming back from where?”
Greg shrugged. “Probably the grave.”
The server brought John a glass of water and left without a word. He sipped it. “What do you know about the CID detective with the Slate County sheriff’s office? Regis Owsley.”
Greg gulped down the rest of his brew and slid the glass, foam running down the insides, to the edge of the table, signaling another. The better question was how deep in was Greg? They were forty-five minutes out of Crow’s Creek. No reason to keep up the act, yet he was drinking at one in the afternoon on a Tuesday.
“I never seen Regis at the cabin.”
John assumed the cabin was code for their meth lab or place of business. Probably was an old cabin somewhere in the holler. “But?”
“I’ve seen other deputies there. You can’t trust everyone at the SO. I don’t know if you can trust Regis or not. I haven’t personally seen him friendly with Whiskey. But he’s familiar with him. Everyone is.”
“What about the sheriff? You say he knows about Whiskey. Has he ever been to the cabin?”
The server brought Greg another beer and winked then disappeared again. “Blind eye. Not a present one.”
John’s skin prickled at the term. These victims had been blinded. Had they been turning blind eyes to something? To Whiskey’s ring? Except that didn’t fit for Callie. If she’d been killed by Whiskey, it was for not turning a blind eye.
That might be it. Maybe these women went to the law for help concerning Whiskey’s crew abusing them, but Greg said not everyone could be trusted. They might have gone to someone they thought they could trust. Which meant their killer could be someone in law enforcement. That could be why the call came anonymously. Why the local law would do nothing. Were they protecting one of their own or going to mete out justice on their own terms?
“I don’t think the sheriff’s directly involved. Could be on the take, but I haven’t been privy to all Whiskey’s meetings yet.”
“And that’s what you want?”
“It’s what I need.”
John stirred the straw in his drink. “Any buzz about the murders? You don’t want me pointed at Whiskey, point me somewhere else. You have to know something about Tillie LeBeau if one of the guys you are around daily beat up on her. What about Darla Boone—she’s the other girl who went missing. She been around any of Whiskey’s crew?”
Greg ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek. “I know she went missing, and I know the SO looked into it.”
“Was Earl Levine questioned?”
“I don’t know.”
John found that hard to believe. He was only offering up information that wouldn’t point to the meth ring. Which wasn’t much at all. “He never said?”
“Not to me.”
Liar.
