The Treasure Box (The Grace Series Book 2) by Romang Mark

Author:Romang, Mark [Romang, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2014-12-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 35

Newton Laskey pulled his government-issued Grand Marquis to the side of the long driveway, parking it an out-of-the-way spot between two magnolia trees. He and his two agents climbed out from the car. Red and blue lights flashed from multiple vehicles parked in the circle drive and cast strobes into the sky and trees.

A deputy trotted up to them. He shined a flashlight directly into their faces. “This is an ongoing crime scene, gentlemen. You’re going to have to leave. We have a violent hostage taker inside the house. He’s already killed one person. Please clear out.”

“Deputy, we’re from the FBI. Can you please tell Lester Tubbs that Newton Laskey is here with two special agents? We’re here to help if Sheriff Tubbs will have us.”

“I’ll need to see some identification,” the deputy said.

Laskey pulled out his wallet badge from a pocket inside his suit coat. Agents Brubaker and Grant followed his lead and produced their FBI badges. The deputy dutifully studied the badges and corresponding ID cards for several moments. He finally handed their identification back to them. “You just happened to be in the neighborhood and popped in?”

“We were working the town hall debate in town. A stalker to one of the candidates was thought to be in attendance. After the debate we heard about a policeman being shot and killed at this address. Since we were so close we headed over,” Laskey explained.

“Wait here. I’ll pass along your request to the sheriff.”

“Thank you, Deputy,” Laskey said. His gaze fell on the plantation house. The extraordinary home looked too genteel to host a crime spree. In Laskey’s experience domestic violence commonly occurs in rundown homes in impoverished neighborhoods. But there were exceptions. Human emotions fueled by alcohol and drugs could trigger violence anywhere, even in affluent homes.

But this crime scene couldn’t be pigeon-holed by stereotypes and law of averages. Something different is happening here, Laskey thought, something more sinister than a marital disagreement.

“What kind of madness do you think is going on in there, Newt?”

Laskey turned and looked at agent Brubaker. “I don’t know, Kevin. But I intend to find out.”

The deputy returned to them moments later. “Sheriff Tubbs welcomes your help. Follow me, gentlemen. I’ll take you to him.”

Laskey followed the Iberville Parish deputy toward the house and the cadre of law enforcement officers huddled behind an extended cab pickup truck. Agent Grant and agent Brubaker trailed close behind Laskey like sons shadowing their father.

Sheriff Tubbs saw Laskey and his men approach and broke away from the others to meet him. “Serendipity must’ve brought you here, Newton. I don’t remember calling your office,” Tubbs drawled in his trademark southern twang.

Laskey did a double-take when he heard Lester Tubbs use the word “serendipity.” The big word sounded odd coming from the portly lawman’s lips. “Serendipity, luck, or fate, whatever you want to call it, we’re here to help any way we can, Sheriff.”

“I accept your help, Newton. But we need to stop meeting like this. Wasn’t it

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