Cheri & Candy 2 - I Want Candy by Susan Donovan

Author:Susan Donovan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: David_James Mobilism.org
ISBN: 9781466801400
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2012-02-28T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Turner stood in the center aisle of the empty Tip Top truck stop restaurant, feet wide apart, staring down at the twisted body on the worn linoleum floor. The deceased lay in a puddle of dark red blood. Male. Caucasian. Age anywhere from eighteen to twenty-five years, but that was just a guess, since they’d found forty-five boxes of cold medicine in his backpack and what was obviously a fake ID. And though they were still waiting for the medical examiner to arrive, Turner was fairly certain he could call this one—the cause of death was the bullet hole smack in the middle of the poor kid’s forehead.

Fortunately, they had more witnesses than they knew what to do with. The state police had set up two interrogation stations out in the parking lot, where fourteen truckers, two waitresses, and a busboy were in the process of giving their statements. So far, everybody seemed to agree on the basics: the victim arrived after midnight and ordered a bottomless cup of coffee. He didn’t say much to anyone, not even the waitress, and sat in a booth that afforded him a good view of the entrance.

And then at twelve-seventeen A.M., the restaurant door opened, and a man wearing a ski mask took one step inside, raised and pointed a rifle outfitted with a fancy scope, and shot the kid as he tried to run.

The shooter jumped in a car waiting at the curb and was gone before anyone could think to get a look at the vehicle, let alone a plate number. But one trucker claimed he’d seen the suspect get into a full-sized pickup, probably a Ford or Chevy, which Turner knew would narrow things down to about half the population of the state of North Carolina.

He heard the restaurant door open and Turner nodded in Kelly O’Connor’s direction. Right behind her was Trent Marshner from the State Bureau of Investigation. Both of them looked particularly grim.

“This kid was one of Spivey’s regular errand boys,” O’Connor said.

“We see him here at least a couple times a week hooking up with the Spivey kid,” Marshner said.

O’Connor nodded. “This is a standard calling-card execution—just your basic howdy from one cartel to another, letting them know they’re in town.”

“What?” Turner felt sick hearing that information. “You’re telling me there are now two Mexican cartels fighting over Cataloochee County’s meth output? Are you shittin’ me?”

“Spivey’s output, more specifically,” O’Connor said. “He’s gotten big enough that he’s worth fighting over.”

Turner shook his head. “We’ve got to shut those bastards down. Now. Before innocent people get hurt.” Turner waved his hand around the truck stop dining room. “Any one of those witnesses could’ve been gunned down tonight. This is insanity. What exactly are we waiting for with the Spiveys? Why can’t we go in right now and just bust the place up?”

Marshner and O’Connor shot each other a look before they gave him an answer.

“Listen, Sheriff,” Marshner said. “We are well aware that your main concern here is protecting the citizens of your county.

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