Chapter THIRTY-ONE
Bill’s news wasn’t good. The guy who had attacked J.D. had lawyered up. “He’s not saying a thing. He was hollering for a lawyer before they got him into the patrol car.”
“Do we know anything about him?” asked J.D.
“His name is Fred Bagby. He’s from Jacksonville, on parole, and recently released from Glades Correctional. Sound familiar?”
“I’ll be damned,” I said. “All three of them were in Glades. That’s got to be the connection.”
“And,” said J.D., “I bet Bagby didn’t check in with his parole officer.”
“Bingo,” said the chief. “We need to follow up on any connections at Glades.”
“We’re already working on that,” said J.D.
“I know, but we’re not getting anywhere. We need to build a fire under the warden down there. It ought to be easy enough to cross-check cell assignments and see if these three guys ever intersected with somebody J.D. has crossed paths with.”
“A call from the governor would probably get him moving,” I said.
“Do you know the governor?” asked the chief.
“No, but I know somebody who does. David Parrish.”
“The U.S. Attorney?” asked Bill.
“He’s in court today,” said J.D.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“Deanna Bichler is arguing motions against him today in Tampa.”
“I’ll call him,” I said. “Leave a message on his cell phone. He’ll get back to me during a break.”
“This is critical,” said Bill. “If we can find somebody with a connection to J.D., we’ll probably know who’s running this show.”
I made the call, got David’s cell, and left the message. “David, Matt Royal. Please call me ASAP. J.D.’s in a lot of trouble.” I left my number.
Parrish called back in ten minutes. “Is J.D. okay?”
“Yes,” I said. “For now. Somebody tried to kill her last night. That’s three tries in four days.”
“How can I help?”
“You’re buddies with the governor, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“We know who three of the bad guys are. They all served sentences in Glades Correctional at the same time. None of them have any connection to J.D. that we can see. The warden down there is supposed to be checking any contacts they had with any inmates that might have a grudge against J.D. I think he’s dragging his feet. I thought the governor might have a little chat with him. Maybe light a big fire under his ass.”
“I’ll call the governor now. You should be getting some pretty quick action.”
“Thanks, David.”
I related David’s end of the conversation to the others. “Maybe the governor can break something loose.”
“In the meantime,” the chief said, “I want J.D. protected.”
“I can take care of myself,” said J.D., an edge to her voice.
“Yeah, I know,” said Bill, “but if I were in your shoes, I’d want somebody covering my butt.”
J.D. smiled. “I’ve got Matt.”
“Not enough,” Bill said. “You stay here with Matt and Jock, and I’m putting a uniform outside the house.”
“Do you really think that’s necessary?” asked J.D.
“I do. And I’m still the chief and that makes me your boss.”
“He’s right, J.D.,” I said.
“I know,” she said. “I know he’s right and you’re right, but I don’t have to like it.”
“Bill,” I asked, “would you do this if the cop were a male?”
“Damn straight. Whoever is trying to kill the detective here is real serious about it. And there must be a bunch of them. We’ve arrested one, killed one, and both the guys on the boat got away. They’re still out there. If she gets killed, I’ll have to train a new detective, and I sure as hell don’t have time for that.”
J.D. grinned. “Okay. If you put it that way. I sure wouldn’t want you to have to teach somebody else the fine art of detecting car break-ins.”
He laughed and pointed his finger at her. “There you go.”
Bill waited around until the officer he’d called appeared at the front door. “I’ll be in the car, Chief,” he said.
Bill Lester took his leave and passed Logan Hamilton coming up the sidewalk. They chatted for a moment and Logan came on into the house. “So, Matt, the chief tells me you’re shacking up with this cute little chick.”
J.D. said, “As soon as I get my gun, I’m going to shoot him. I’ll be in the shower.” She strode out of the room with a smile playing on her gorgeous lips.
“You know,” I said to Logan, “she just might do that.”
“What? Shoot me?”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, I think she’s sort of got the hots for me and doesn’t want you or Marie to know it.”
“That’s probably it. I’ll put it on your tombstone.”
“I wanted to see how she was doing. Glad to see she’s full of piss and vinegar, as usual.”
“It was a close thing, Logan. Have you heard anything about it on the island?”
“Sure. A lot. I had breakfast at the Dolphin this morning.”
No surprise there. News travels fast on a small island. I filled him in on everything we’d learned.
“Where’s Jock?” he asked.
“He’s visiting with Gene Alexander.”
“I take it J.D.’s okay,” said Logan.
“She’s fine. She got her left side sliced up a little, but it’s not too bad. She wants to get back to work.”
“She staying here?”
“For a couple of days.”
“Be careful, Matt.”
“I know.”
J.D. came out of the bedroom, cell phone in hand. “Matt, a Sarasota detective called and wants to meet with me to take a statement. Can you take me back to my condo? I’ll shower there and get into some clean clothes.”
“Sure,” I said, “and I’m going downtown with you.”
She gave me a frown, but didn’t argue.
“I’ve got to go,” said Logan. “I just wanted to make sure J.D. was okay. Watch your back, Matt. Hers, too.”
“I will,” I said.
But as it turned out, I didn’t do a very good job of watching anybody’s back.