County Vices

By A.M. McKnight

Detective Olivia Winston and IRS Special Agent Maureen Jeffries have "tied the knot" and happily settled into married life. But crime in their home county of Goslyn hasn't settled down—in fact, it's at an all-time high. Drugs and corruption have found a foothole in the once small, quiet community, and Olivia and Maureen discover it's a family affair that reaches from the street corner dealer right up to the County Board of Supervisors.

The love-hate drama between Supervisor Cleo Jacobs and her street-wise nephew, Chris Jacobs, has filled their pockets with plenty of cash but caused a dangerous rift between the two as both try to make their mark in the drug game. Driven by greed and ego, the Jacobs do their best to satisfy the growing demand for pills that "make you happy" and "numb the pain." But their love of money comes with a callous disregard for others, including those close to Detective Winston and Special Agent Jeffries, who find themselves right in the middle of Goslyn's biggest crime story.

Love, violence, and betrayal combine to make the perfect, poisonous pill.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A.M. McKnight
• Release date: Aug 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781393370109

Book preview

COUNTY VICES

A.M. MCKNIGHT

2017

This book is a work of fiction. Resemblance to persons, locations, or characters real or fictional, living or deceased is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

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Cover Design: CreateSpace

Cover Image Design by: Maramicado| Dreamstime.com

Copyright© 2017 by A.M. McKnight

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, or digital, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or by any information storage or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark ownership of all trademarks, service marks, and word marks mentioned in this book.

A.M. McKnight’s Other Published Works

Goslyn County, a novel (2015)

Flash Fiction at www.101words.org:

Protect This House! (April 26, 2016)

Compliment? (May 4, 2016)

A Good Day (July 25, 2016)

Warm Was the Moment, poetry

(November 2016)

AUTOMATIC, random monologue

(November 2016)

Best Love Ever, a Goslyn County short, sweet read (December 2016)

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Links for A.M. McKnight:

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14719571.A_M_McKnight

https://ammcknight.wordpress.com

www.facebook.com/author.mcknight

"If you wanna live large,

you gotta play big."

Contents

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER ONE

Maureen Jeffries-Winston stirred her hot tea as she leaned over her office speakerphone. Ollie, I’m not driving home just to check his temperature, she said. You can do that all by yourself. She ran her hand through her short, curly fade and laughed.

But he looks so sad, Olivia Winston said. I just can’t do it.

Ollie, we had a deal. You take care of stuff like that, and I don’t complain about him peeing in my shoes. Maureen leaned back in her chair and looked under the conference table at her stained leather loafers. The pair used to be as deep brown as her skin. The vet’s just around the corner, she said. Can’t you take him back in?

I did this morning and she says he’s okay—just an upset stomach. But I think she just wanted to get rid of me.

Can you blame her, Ollie? That puppy’s had more check-ups than the both of us!

C’mon, Maureen. Pretty please? Olivia begged.

What makes you think I know how to stick a thermometer up his butt?! Maureen laughed again and crossed her long runner’s legs.

Because you told me you used to do it when you had a pet rabbit!

I was nine years old then, and my mom was the one who played doctor.

Okay. I know you have more important things to do. Sorry for bugging you.

Maureen could hear the pout in Olivia’s voice. "Oh, no you don’t! You and that four-legged mutt are not going to make me feel guilty. You volunteered to babysit him while Goslyn’s shelter is short-staffed. You’re on the hook, not me." Maureen heard Olivia’s soft giggles through the receiver.

But you didn’t say goodbye to him this morning, and he misses you, Olivia said.

Maureen sighed. "All right. I’ll swing by for lunch. But you owe me. I want a brand new Wizards T-shirt to replace the one he pooped on."

You’re so sweet. Oh, I’ve got fresh tomatoes waiting.

Maureen hung up and handed her secretary a file. I knew taking care of a puppy would be a pain in the butt.

You’re just a sucker for that woman and don’t try denying it, Carol Taylor, the sharp-witted, Jamaican-born secretary said as she added the file to a pile sitting at one end of the conference table. I’m getting some more tea. You want a refill too? 

Please, and bring that box of bran muffins. I need an energy boost to get through the rest of this review. Maureen lightly kicked a second pile of folders sitting raggedly on the floor under the table. I can’t believe we had this many fraud cases last year.

Thieves think IRS means the same as ATM, Carol said, and you’re the one who wanted to be a supervisory agent. So don’t whine about it now. She picked up Maureen’s mug and headed down the office hallway.

And you talked me into it! Maureen snapped. She pulled another file from a third pile that was stacked in a chair next to her. It would take most of the day to get through everything, and she was still stuck with writing reports.

Knock, knock. Special Agent Alexandra Wright appeared in the doorway. At a young and slim six feet, the second year agent still looked fresh off a college campus.

Hey, Alex, what’s up? Maureen said.

Nothing new, boss. I just came by to check out your new office. Wow! You could play half court ball in here. The agent walked in and stood at the room-length window that gave a clear view of the James. How many years before I get a corner office like this? she asked.

About twenty, if you stay in shape and stop eating Carol’s donuts. Maureen pointed to the jelly-roll that Alex was holding.

Did I just hear my name? Carol said as she strolled back in with steaming tea and double-sized pastries.

Good morning, Ms. Taylor. Thanks again for the donuts, Alex said. These are the best in town. Crumbs covered Alex’s mouth, and some dropped to the floor.

Don’t make a mess, young lady, or I’ll put you on vacuum duty.

Oh. Sorry, ma’am.

It’s okay, Alex, Maureen said. Ms. Taylor’s just very picky about the new space. You should see the inside of her car. Spotless.

That’s right. And I plan to keep this office just as spotless even if it means kicking both of you out of here. Carol snapped her fingers and picked up half the files from the table. I’ll start re-filing these. She headed back to her brand new receptionist desk.

She reminds me of my mom back home in Kingston, Alex whispered. She even sounds like her.

Don’t worry about Ms. Taylor. She’s all bark and no bite...unless you screw up her filing system. Then she really gets mad. So what’s going on? Maureen gestured to a chair.

Alex took a seat and wiped her mouth. I’m helping some of the senior agents on a couple of cases, and I think I should’ve majored in criminology instead of accounting. Some of these tax fraud guys are smarter than I thought.

Welcome to the world of crime-fighting, my friend, Maureen said before blowing on her tea. You’ve got the sophomore blues. 

The sophomore blues? Is that something I missed in my recruitment?

Maureen smiled at her protégé, who she had taken under her wing during Alex’s first year.  No, but it’s something every agent goes through. It’s that feeling you get when you find out crooks know more than you do, and they didn’t have to rack up four years of student loans to learn it.

Exactly! I feel like an idiot every time I think I’ve got a lead on a suspect who disappears before we can get close. It’s like they know we’re coming.

Sometimes they do. Perps can have good snitches just like we can. So don’t ever underestimate a crook just because he’s a crook. Maureen spoke from experience. She had her share of stories about being out-played by criminals who had been stealing longer than she had been an agent.

I’ll keep that in mind, ma’am. By the way, it was good to see Professor Winston at your promotion party. How is she? Alex showed a grin from ear to ear.

She’s good. I’m having lunch with her this afternoon, and I’ll tell her you asked about her. Maureen knew that Alex had a crush on Olivia that dated back to when she was one of Olivia’s math students at a local community college, before transferring to a four year program. Olivia had done a good job at boosting the once-shy woman’s confidence.

I’ll get back to work before Special Agent Reese hunts me down, Alex said as she crammed rest of the jelly-roll into her mouth. She headed for the door.

Ease up on those donuts, Maureen said, or I’ll order four laps around the building!

***

Olivia loaded fresh-cut tomato slices onto Maureen turkey-and-rye. You want lettuce, too? she asked.

Uh-huh, and lots of mustard. Have you decided what to call this little rascal? Maureen asked as she played with the chocolate cocker spaniel’s ears and rubbed his cheeks.

Columbo, Olivia said. 

Columbo?

After my favorite TV cop, Lieutenant Columbo. Olivia set the table and placed the sandwich with a side of grapes in front of Maureen.

You mean the short, dumpy guy in the wrinkled raincoat? Maureen asked.

He wasn’t that short, and he was very smart. You want some tea?

You sit, and I’ll get it. Here, take little ‘Columbo.’

Maureen handed Olivia the sleeping spaniel and took an ice-cold pitcher from the fridge. Are you bored yet with being on vacation? she asked as she filled two glasses.

Yes. And I still can’t believe the Department threatened to take my leave time if I didn’t use it. It’s crazy the way the County keeps cutting everybody’s budget. First it was the animal shelter. Now it’s us. We’re the freakin’ police, for Christ’s sake!

Olivia carried Columbo into the living room and laid him in his play pen. She stroked his back as he yawned.

At least you’ve had a chance to study for the sergeant’s exam, Maureen said as she picked a tomato slice from her turkey-and-rye and ate it. Think you’re ready?

I think so, but it’s probably a waste of time. The position could get eliminated before it’s even filled.

You’re the optimist. I’m the pessimist, remember? Don’t start jinxing your chances.

I know, I know, Olivia said. It just seems like the County Supervisors are swinging their budget axe with their eyes closed. Are you working late today?

Not if I can help it. I’d like to come home and have dinner with my hot wife every once in a while.

Flattery will get you everywhere, Mrs. Jeffries-Winston, Olivia said.

I’ll hold you to that tonight, Mrs. Winston.

Olivia shook her head as Maureen raised her eyes and grinned. A year into their marriage, Maureen still flirted as much as when they dated. It’s too early in the day for that, Olivia said. Eat your sandwich.

You and Columbo got plans for rest of the day?  Maureen asked.

We’re going to see Grandma. She and Mama asked me to stop by again. Something’s up with those two, but they won’t tell me what.

Are they okay?

They’re fine. I figure it’s got something to do with a neighbor, but they won’t tell me who. They just keep asking me a bunch of hypothetical questions.

Knowing those two, it’s probably a plot to kick somebody out of their cooking circle. Maureen took another bite of sandwich. If that’s the case, don’t let them rope us into it. Ms. Jackson still gives me the side-eye after I told her about your grandma bad-mouthing a casserole they had at their last club meeting. Nobody told me it was Ms. Jackson’s casserole.

I can’t guarantee they won’t pull us in, Olivia said. You know they’re a handful together.

Tell me about it. It’s like dealing with two teenagers. Which reminds me: Alex Wright asked about you this morning.

How is my former straight-A student doing? Olivia asked.

Hitting the typical bumps in the road, but the senior agents say she’s doing a good job. Maureen checked her watch. I need to get going before Carol sends out a search party. She gobbled down the last bites of her lunch. 

Columbo was awake and tried his best to bark, but managed only a loud mousey squeak.

Your patient’s calling for you, Olivia said and reached into his pen. She shook his paw as he held it out.  Hey, cutie, say thank you to Dr. Maureen for taking your temperature.

I told you he was okay. Nothing to worry about.

I’m just a concerned ‘pet-mommy’, Olivia said.

Concerned or bossy? Chill out and give the vet a break before she bans you from her office. Maureen put on her jacket and headed for the front door with Olivia behind her. I’ll see you around six this evening. She pulled Olivia close and ran her hands over Olivia’s short-twistie braids.

Olivia, who was an inch shorter at five-eight, hugged Maureen around her waist and kissed her. I’ll have dinner ready. Then you can play doctor on me.

CHAPTER TWO

Olivia loved the smell of Cornish hens baking in Grandma Rita Mae Jones’ oven. And the aroma of fresh collard greens slowly simmering on the stove. Grandma had just finished shredding cabbage for coleslaw, and her daughter, Selma Winston, dabbed the last spot on a home-made yellow cake with Olivia’s favorite frosting—chocolate fudge swirl.

Olivia listened as her grandma asked yet another hypothetical question.

What if the calls were anonymous? Grandma Rita said. How would you find out who made them?

It depends, Grandma.

Ollie, that’s not an answer!

Well, I’m sorry. But you’re not telling me enough.

Have some cake, Selma said as she put a hefty slice on a saucer and slid it across the dining room table at Olivia.

Mama, are you trying to feed me until I’m too stuffed to leave?

Something like that, Selma said. What if the person claims to know something personal and plans to tell other people about it? she asked.

Olivia sighed. Are you talking about blackmail, Mama?

I didn’t use any such word, Ollie, and don’t go making assumptions. 

Grandma Rita went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of ice cream. It’s your favorite kind, she said and placed the two scoops right next to the slice of cake.

Listen, you two. Stop trying to fatten me up—just tell me what’s going on!

She’s right, Selma said. This is ridiculous. We can trust Ollie. She’s a detective, for heaven’s sake.

I know I can trust my own granddaughter, Selma. That’s not the point. We made a promise to a dear friend not to say too much.

Olivia stared at the two women. Except for the age differences, Olivia was a near triplicate to the both of them, with their dark complexions and wide brown eyes.

Well? Olivia asked.

I still don’t think we should say anything for right now, Grandma Rita said, at least not until we talk to our friend first.

I agree, Selma said. That’ll give him a chance to decide what he wants to do.

Olivia threw up her hands in frustration. You’re killing me! I get more information when I talk to suspects. Either you tell me what’s going on, or I’m spending the rest of my vacation out of town. And I’m taking Maureen and Columbo with me.

It was a total bluff by Olivia. And as if on cue, the tiny cocker spaniel tried to bark from underneath the dining room table. Another mousey squeak was the best he could do.

You’ll do no such thing! Selma said. Finish that cake while your grandma and I make a phone call. You’re coming with us, you cute little thing. She scooped up Columbo, and off they went into the kitchen.

Maureen was right, Olivia mumbled to herself. It’s like dealing with teenagers. And I’m going to gain ten pounds this week if I keep hanging out here.

Olivia covered the slice of cake with a scoop of the royal fudge. She could hear in her head Sergeant Burke, Goslyn PD’s physical training instructor, yelling at her to drop and give him twenty. She started to laugh but quickly stifled it when she saw the look on her mom’s face as she came back into the dining room. Grandma Rita, who followed, didn’t look any better.

What’s wrong?

Things have changed, Ollie, Selma said. It’s more serious than we thought. She sat down at the table. Harold needs your help.

You mean Mr. Brooks? Is he okay?

He’s okay physically, but he’s a nervous wreck, Grandma Rita said. He finally agreed to talk to you. Can you see him here tomorrow? 

Of course I can. What time?

In the evening. And can you bring Maureen? Grandma Rita was almost pleading.

Maureen? Olivia knew that her grandma loved Mr. Brooks like a brother and would do anything for him. And her mom felt the same. Whatever was going on, it had both women looking desperate. Okay...we’ll be here.

***

Roy Milton pretended to work by scribbling something on his county-issued clipboard. He leaned his pale, heavy frame against a delivery truck door and whispered to the driver, We got another shipment coming soon. Be ready.

Roy was the poster child for everything that was wrong with local government: wasted money and wasted time. Somehow a back injury that he had suffered at a bachelor party got classified as work-related and entitled Roy to a reassignment. Instead of doing his regular job of maintaining street signs and cutting grass, he was now keeping track of warehouse inventory. But nobody was keeping track of Roy.

How many boxes we got coming in? the driver asked.

Cleo said another eight next week. Don’t forget to re-check the paperwork on what’s already here. We don’t want any problems getting it past the new guard this afternoon.

I got it covered, the driver said. I know him from when he used to work over in Parks and Rec. I slipped him a couple hundred.

Okay. What did Chris say about the new stash place?

He didn’t answer his phone when I called.

Roy frowned and scratched the back of his thick, hairy neck. Damn! All right. I’ll call him. You can punch out on break.

Roy walked to the end of the warehouse loading dock for some privacy and dialed his cell phone. A man’s voice answered. Chris, Roy here. What the hell’s going on?! I told you last week we need that place again for the load we’re moving today.

I know, man. It’ll be ready. The landlord was snoopin’ around and threw me off schedule. But everything’s cool.

Does he know something?! Roy asked.

No, man. Don’t worry about it. He wanted to check out the space, but I took care of it."

Listen, Chris, Roy whispered, I trusted you with a load last week that should’ve been on the streets by now, and today’s load is just as big. If you got a problem, you need to fess up now. 

I told you I got it under control. Listen, the old man ain’t got a clue. He’s too distracted dealing with other shit. I made sure of that.

I’m holding you to your word. If this goes bad, it’s all on you. Call me back when you’re ready to pick up. We need to talk about the boxes coming next week.

***

Chris Jacobs tossed his phone on the van’s dashboard.

Was that Roy again? Terry Gordon asked.

Yeah. He’s a pain in the ass. He acts like nobody knows what to do but him!

I know, man. But we never moved this much stuff before. We’ve got enough Oxy and Ritalin to get twenty years with the Feds.

Chris scowled. "We need to make a