“Uh, about that. Otterman trumped you.”
Harry recounted the predawn conversation that Neal had had with Otterman. “Admitted to the meeting, played dumb about how Connor died.”
Crawford swore. “Otterman’s playing Neal like a fiddle.”
“And it’s working. He’s issued an APB for you and the judge’s car.”
“Any more good news, Harry?”
“Pretty much it for now.”
“Well, Neal’s preoccupation with me is good for something. It’s keeping a police presence around Holly.”
“I’m glad of that, too. Oh, Sessions just rushed in, looking excited, and I don’t reckon it’s over wallpaper. Carry on with your weasel. I’ll call you back. When I do, answer your damn phone.” Then Harry was gone.
As Crawford clicked off, Smitty asked, “Who was that?”
“Another Texas Ranger. He advised me to stop screwing around, to go ahead and kill you for assaulting me with that pawnshop pistol. Good riddance, he said.”
“I didn’t assault—”
“I don’t want to kill you, Smitty. I’d rather get you sent up for all those first-degree felonies.” Crawford leaned down over him. “But because I’m such a nice guy, maybe I could persuade the DA to go light on you, seeing as how she sought employment and lied at her audition. But I’ll do this only if you tell me where this place is in Louisiana.”
“I never said there was a place in Louisiana.” Smitty reached for the cup of gin.
Crawford backhanded it to the floor. Bending down closer, he said, “You’re actually gonna continue holding out on me when I can set you up on play dates with every perv in Huntsville for the next ninety-nine years?”
Smitty whimpered. “Look, Crawford, swear to God that all I did was pick up cash and drop it off.”
Crawford hadn’t even asked Smitty if he had business with Otterman. The mention of cash was a slip of the tongue that he tucked away for future reference. “Where is he?”
“First, I want to get something in writing about…about the underage girl thing.”
“First, you’ll get my boot up your ass. Where is Otterman? Name the town.”
“There isn’t a town.”
“Nearest town.”
“She looked twenty-two. Twenty-five! One look at her, no jury would convict me.”
“Smitty.”
“I need a guarantee.”
“Scout’s honor.”
“Not good enough.”
“Scout’s honor that when I do find Otterman, which I will eventually, I’ll make sure he knows that you were the one who pointed me in his direction.”
Smitty groaned and clutched his crotch like he had to pee. “Prentiss.”
“What?”
“Prentiss. That’s the nearest town.”
“He’s not in Louisiana?”
Miserably, Smitty shook his head. “It’s this side of the state line. Just barely.”
“But in Texas?”
Smitty wiped his runny nose on his sleeve as he nodded.
Crawford grinned. “Perfect.”
Chapter 31
Crawford wanted to talk to Holly, but he called Neal instead, who answered with a rude “Who’s this?”
“You need to get an arrest warrant for Chuck Otterman, and I don’t care who you have to blow to get it.”
“For what?”
“Start with conspiracy to murder, then fill in the blank. Pat Connor would be the most expeditious. I’ve got someone who’ll turn state’s witness against Otterman if we strike the right deal.”
“Del Ray Smith?” Neal asked, scoffing. “Way ahead of you, Crawford.”
Shit!
“Sheriff’s deputies found him duct-taped to a chair in the office of one of his clubs. He accused you of police brutality and stealing his car, which appears to be the truth, since Judge Spencer’s had been dumped there, and his was gone. They’ve been grilling him good, but he refuses to tell the deputies why you strong-armed him and where you went when you left.”
Smitty would give it up. He always did. Crawford’s time just got shorter to find Otterman before the cavalry was dispatched.
He said, “Stop screwing around with Smitty. You’ve got the video of Otterman and Connor.”
“Which is evidence of nothing except a conversation, and no ADA is going to hang their ambition on that.”
“It’s a start. It’s enough to bring him in, put him on the spot, make him explain that meeting.”
“He already has. I questioned him about it early this morning.”
“Oh, I heard all about your little chat. Civic duty Chuck came clean before you even asked. Didn’t that smack of manipulation, Neal?”
“This call smacks of manipulation.”
Mentally cursing, Crawford tried to think of a way to shake him. Then he remembered Smitty’s admission of being a cash courier. “Otterman’s dirty. Into more than drilling for gas.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Neal gave a skeptical grunt. “Try harder, Crawford.”
“What’s that mean?”
“According to Judge Spencer, your buddies in Houston are close to linking Otterman to Halcon. Maybe it’s not Otterman who’s dirty. Maybe it’s you.”
“Otterman might think so.”