Burying Daisy Doe by Ramona Richards

Author:Ramona Richards
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kregel Publications
Published: 2020-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Pineville, Alabama, 1983

“WHAT DO YOU mean, it’s not all counterfeit?” William braced his rear against the lowered tailgate of his truck. He pulled a pack of Camels out of his shirt pocket and shook one free. He tucked it in the corner of his mouth and offered the pack to Roscoe.

Roscoe declined the cigarette, then slipped off his suit coat and draped it over one arm. He loosened his tie. He’d closed the store early that afternoon and driven into Gadsden for a parts order. He stopped by his PO box before heading home to find a letter from Bobby Spire.

“Bobby gave the money to a contact he has with the Secret Service.”

William lit the Camel and took three strong drags on it. “The guys who guard the president?”

“Yeah. They’re the ones who investigate counterfeiting. They said only part of the money was bogus.”

William blew free a long trail of smoke, then flicked the first ashes off the end. “Chris said it was all funny money. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Roscoe shrugged. “No idea. He said most of the real bills had no trace on them. But one was tracked to a bank robbery in a little town in south Georgia. Another had significant traces of cocaine on it.”

William pushed himself up on the tailgate, letting his feet dangle. “Why would Chris lie?”

“Maybe he doesn’t know.”

William looked down at the gravel driveway, lost in thought.

Roscoe went on. “Bobby said they might be looking at two levels of criminal activity. The counterfeiting and money laundering.”

William’s head jerked up. “Money laundering?”

“Passing cash from criminal acts through legitimate busi—”

“I know what money laundering is.”

Roscoe studied his brother. Since he’d started driving for the old man, William had gone from being fidgety and nervous to comfortable and arrogant about the almost nightly runs through northeast Alabama. In the past few weeks, he’d become agitated again, smoking more, disappearing more.

“What are you thinking, William? What’s going on?”

William took another draw of the cigarette, crushed it out against the metal of the tailgate, and flicked the butt onto the grass. He licked his front teeth and stared down at the driveway again.

Roscoe waited. Since he’d been a child, William had taken his time putting any serious thoughts together. Weighing all possible combinations. Roscoe had once teased him that he and Maybelle would have been married two years longer if William had gotten the words together sooner. When William looked back up at Roscoe, it was if all his worries poured out in a stream.

“Chris’s been acting weird lately. Skittish. Scared of Buck and scared of his old man. He says that something’s going down, and they aren’t keeping him in on it. Like they still want him to do these runs, but they no longer want him to know what they’re about. When they’ll happen. They’re starting to treat him like an outsider. They’ve been depending more on Chris’s brother, Abner’s youngest. And a friend of his brother. Like they’re setting them up to take over.

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