Wild Secret

cheeks reddened. I knew I had him. "That's bullshit. He is lying. I drove. He shot."
“That’s not what he says. Why should I believe you over him?"
"Because that's the way it went down!!"
"Tell me why it went down in the first place. A vendetta against Deputy Atwood for your previous arrest?"
"Man, we were just doing what we were told."
I exchanged a curious glance with JD.
"So, who told you to kill Chuck Atwood?"

42
What Kashton said didn't surprise me.
But it did fill me with rage. My stomach twisted, and my hands balled into fists when he said that Stella Turner had ordered the hit on Chuck Atwood.
Normally, I wouldn’t give much merit to an outlandish claim by a hoodlum. But this wasn’t a normal situation.
"You're sure about that?" I asked.
"Positive. She said that Deputy Atwood was starting to cause problems for her.”
I didn’t need to ask what kind of problems. Chuck had gotten suspicious about Stella's Fund just like we had. Maybe he had damning evidence against the state attorney. Maybe he threatened to expose her. All kinds of scenarios entered my mind. I hated to think it. But what if Chuck had been blackmailing her?
"This all sounds good," I said. "But nobody's gonna believe you. You’re not credible.”
"Yeah, they are. I got proof!”
"What kind of proof?"
"Let's talk a deal first."
"Everybody wants a deal," I said in a resigned tone. "Tell me what you got."
"No. I walk away from this, or you don't get the audio."
"Audio?"
"I recorded our conversations with Turner. I’m not stupid. Isaac is the stupid one."
That was debatable. They were both pretty dumb if you asked me.
"Let's hear the audio. Where is it?"
"It's on my phone. I’ll play it for you. But you drop the charges against me first.”
"What about your buddy?”
"Fuck him. He ratted me out."
I loved it when perps turned against each other.
"Hang tight a minute," I said.
I left the interrogation room, retrieved his personal belongings, and brought the phone back. It was a brand-new phone with facial recognition. All I had to do was hold it in front of his face.
The security screen vanished, and I started scrolling through the device, looking in the voice recording app. I clicked a file labeled Stella Turner. It wasn’t the highest quality audio in the world. There was a lot of mic noise and rustling as Kashton surreptitiously recorded the conversation.
The woman's voice was unmistakable. It was Stella Turner.
There was a lot of dead space and small talk back and forth between Isaac and Kashton as they waited for Stella to arrive. It sounded like a car pulled up, and the two thugs opened the door and climbed inside. The door slammed with a clunk.
“You said you needed to talk in person,” Isaac said.
“I’ve got a job for you,” Stella said. “You do this and your problems go away for a long time. Whenever you get in trouble, I'll make sure it gets taken care of."
"I'd like a little more intel, so we don't get in trouble in the first place."
“You pull this off smoothly, you boys will be able to grow your operation. I guarantee it."
“What do we have to do?”
“Deputy Atwood needs an early retirement."
"You want us to kill a cop?"
"Is that a problem for you?"
There was a long silence.
"No," Isaac said.
"You ever done anything like that before?"
"You’re honestly asking me to admit a crime to a state attorney?"
Stella laughed. "You're smarter than you look."
"When do you want it done?"
"As soon as possible. It needs to look like gang-related violence. A traffic stop gone bad. Something like that.”
"We can do that,” Isaac said. “Why do you want him dead?"
"Don't tell me you need a reason to kill a cop?”
"Just curiosity."
“He's a danger to me. And what's dangerous to me is dangerous to you. He knows too much, and he’s asking questions.”
It was all I needed to hear. "Where was this audio captured?"
“In her car."
I texted the recording to my device, then pushed away from the table and started toward the door.
"Hey, what about my deal?"
I ignored him and pushed into the hallway. Daniels joined us, having watched from the observation room. His face was tense with anger, his cheeks flush. "I'll get a warrant."
"She's doing something illegal with the Forward Fund, and Atwood found out about it,” I said.
"I want her in jail by the end of the day. Do this by the book, no screw-ups. This is going to raise a lot of hell.”


43
It was a spectacle—Stella Turner, surrounded by pissed-off deputies on the courthouse steps—priceless.
“Stella Turner, you're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder,” I said with glee.
A look of utter shock and disbelief twisted on her face. "This is outrageous!"
"Yes. It is."
JD slapped the cuffs around her wrists, and Faulkner took her by the arm. He ushered her down the steps toward the patrol car as people gawked. I may have tipped off Paris Delaney. She was there with her crew, filming the whole thing.
Stella knew enough to keep her mouth shut. She wouldn’t talk, but it was fun to watch her squirm in the interrogation room. We had damning evidence, and I felt certain Stella Turner was going to go away for a long time, and I told her as much.
After we filled out after-action reports, JD and I headed over to Wetsuit for a celebratory cocktail and dinner. He lifted his glass of whiskey to toast. "One by one, we're gonna clean up this town."
I laughed. It was a tall order.
After dinner, we headed to the practice studio. Crash had gotten his cast off. It was his first day back with the band. They ran through their setlist, and Crash was a little rusty on the first song but snapped back into the groove quickly. He was still weak and sore, and he iced his wrist afterward. But he was on the road to a full recovery. Hopefully, things would be getting back to normal.
Faye attended practice and cheered Crash on. It seemed like they had gotten through their rough