Speed Trap

Fred leaned his elbows on the counter. “We can look into his financial records.”

Ken cleared his throat. “Besides ranching he’s a cattle buyer on the side. My uncle has used him a few times.”

Mandy glanced at Ken. “What does that entail?”

“If a farmer or a rancher is too busy or doesn’t like traveling to the sale barns, he hires a fellow to do it for him. He’ll give the buyer an order for so many feeder steers or so many heifers. Guys who do it full-time can make good money if they don’t mind the travel.”

Donna interrupted again. “All that traveling sounds like a good cover for running drugs.”

Mandy held back a smile. At times, Donna could be overly dramatic. The dispatcher had moved from a small town in Missouri to Timber Wells the same time Mandy had. Her experience as a dispatcher in that state made her exactly what Mandy had been looking for, and she had worked out well in spite of her outspoken ways.

Planting her hands on her hips, Donna continued. “A man doesn’t shun his own community unless he’s got something to hide. I’ve got a bad feeling about that one.”

Unsure exactly what her own feelings for Garrett were, Mandy turned around and picked up a file from the front desk. “I’ll be out of the office for the rest of the day, Donna. You can get me on my cell phone.”

Donna perked up. “Where are you going? You know how I like to keep track of my people.”

Mandy strongly suspected Donna’s attention to details was part of her naturally nosy nature, but she did a good job even if she was prone to gossip. She’d proven to be an asset in the community, as well. She volunteered at the high school and at the Prairie View Community Church in her free time with at-risk youth.

“I’m giving a Meth Watch talk at the high school with Agent Riley of the KBI. After that I’m headed to Wichita to interview people who knew Judy.”

Mandy was dreading the talk. Public speaking wasn’t her gift, but keeping kids off drugs was a cause she believed in.

“Talking to most of those teenagers is a waste of time.” Fred said with a scowl.

Donna nodded sagely. “I know you think your meth education programs can make a difference, but I’m not so sure. I sit with those kids in after-school detention three nights a week. Some of them will use drugs no matter what.”

Mandy lifted her trooper’s hat from the wooden coat tree outside her office door. “But some won’t, and those are the ones I’m trying to reach. Besides, we need to get a lid on these robberies. We need tips on suspicious activity. We can’t do it alone. If we don’t get the community involved, things are just going to get worse.”

Only Ken nodded in agreement. Donna and Fred merely exchanged skeptical glances.

Mandy knew there were kids she couldn’t save. People turned to drugs for any number of reasons and no amount of education could stop it all, but if she saved one person, it would be worth all her time and effort.

As it turned out, the school talk wasn’t as difficult as she feared. Many of the students seemed genuinely interested in helping law enforcement keep their community drug-free. There were a couple of jokers in the crowd who snickered and shouted out wisecracks, but for the most part Mandy felt she’d gotten her message across.

With Agent Riley to help field questions and present what the KBI was doing to combat the problem, the hour passed quickly.

The high school principal, Cedric Dobbs, stood waiting for them when they left the stage. “Thank you for speaking today. I’ll see that your hecklers spend a couple of hours in detention. Especially Luke Holt. You’d think having an older brother who is a deputy would deter some of his rowdy behavior.”

Cedric’s voice held a ragged edge that made Mandy look more closely at him. In his early sixties, Cedric had been teaching in Timber Wells his entire life.

Today, his usually impeccable suit was rumbled. His thick white hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it. He looked like a man under a lot of stress.

Mandy smiled at him. “It wasn’t as bad as I expected.”

“These kids. I don’t know what’s going to become of this town. For two cents I’d quit this job. I’m nothing but a glorified babysitter. Excuse me.” He left to stop escalating horseplay between two boys.

Agent Jed Riley, dressed in a dark suit and tie, offered Mandy his hand. “Nice speech, Sheriff.”

She shook it. “Thanks. Yours was better.”

“I’ve had more practice. What’s wrong with Mr. Dobbs? He looks like he’s ready to tear out his hair. I don’t remember him being so down on his students.”

“His wife has cancer.” Mandy didn’t know the woman well, but had met her a few times at her mother’s Bible study class before she became ill.

Sympathy filled Jed’s eyes. “No wonder he looks like he’s aged since I was here last year.”

“According to my mother, his wife’s doctor wants her on a new experimental therapy, but their insurance won’t cover it. They’ve used up nearly all their savings. They even had to sell their house and move into a smaller apartment. Are you on your way back to Topeka now?”

“No, I’ve got another talk to give in Council Grove. Any new information on your homicide?”

“I’m waiting on crime lab reports from the Highway Patrol.”

“The Kansas Highway Patrol has quite a backlog. You may be waiting a while. Did the hits we gave you on those prints at the farm supply store robbery take you anywhere?”

“What hits? I haven’t gotten anything from the KBI on that case.”

“Really? I’m sure my office faxed you the report.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“We came up with prints for a couple of small-time crooks named J. J. Fields and Daniel ‘Spike’ Carver.”

“I know them. They’re a couple of local hoodlums. I never got the report.”

Jed drew his cell phone from his pocket and dialed. Holding it to his ear, he said, “Connie, this is Jed. I need you to do me a favor. E-mail a couple of reports for me to the sheriff in Morrison County.”

He gave her the details, then snapped his phone shut and smiled at Mandy. “You should have them in ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Jed. I’ll have one of my deputies bring in J. J. and Spike for questioning. It might be the break I’ve been looking for.”

After leaving the school, Mandy pulled into the Turner gas station and truck stop near the south edge of town to fill up before making the two-hour drive into Wichita. The sky, overcast since early morning, discharged a brief sprinkle that left the air smelling sweet and clean.

The station, operated by Aaron Turner and Mike Peters, was a hodgepodge business that had been doing well since the pair bought it six months ago. A tall rusting fence of corrugated tin enclosed a salvage yard at the back of the property. The sign out front offered auto repair and tow services, as well as free coffee and a doughnut with a fill-up.

A half-dozen clunkers sat waiting to be fixed or junked beside the large garage at the back of the property. Several eighteen-wheelers idled in front of the diesel pumps.

The majority of the place’s business came from catering to the over-the-road truckers taking a break from the long and sometimes boring Kansas highway. They didn’t seem to mind that the coffee was stout enough to dissolve horseshoes or that the doughnuts were stale because the station owners managed to keep their diesel fuel price at least a nickel lower than the gas station in the nearest town.

As Mandy slipped the gas nozzle off the pump, she saw a semitrailer loaded with smashed cars pull up to the salvage yard entrance. Mike came out of the building to open the gate, but stopped short at the sight of her.

She lifted her chin in acknowledgment to the small, skinny man in greasy gray overalls. He dropped his gaze and quickly went about his business.

“Don’t mind Mike, he’s just shy.” Aaron Turner appeared at the hood of Mandy’s truck. Slightly above medium height with dirty, dark blond hair that needed trimming, he exuded the confidence his partner seemed to lack. His red shirt was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and tucked into tight-fitting faded jeans.

“Maybe he doesn’t like cops,” Mandy suggested.

“I think he has a crush on you.”