came to the prison today, you were on an undercover assignment in a meth gang?”
“Yes,” she replied. “My background in biochemistry made me an ideal candidate to infiltrate the gang and learn their cook methods and means of distribution. I’ve been undercover for over six months now, and I was really close to meeting the kingpin of the whole operation.” She dropped her voice. “But somebody sold me out. When I arrived at the prison this evening, the gang members knew exactly who I was—my name, my rank, everything.”
Tyler listened closely. “Were you wired?”
“No. Until you truly earn their trust, the gang leaders check everybody for wires, cell phones and weapons. I agreed to go undercover, knowing that backup wouldn’t be an option if ever I got into trouble.”
“So how did you call for help?”
“Right after one of The Scorpions confronted me, a rival gang busted in and started shooting. It gave me enough time to make a run for it and grab somebody’s cell phone from a table as I passed. I called 9-1-1 first, and then I called you. I saw you arrive within ten minutes, but it was another five before I managed to find you.”
“Where is that cell phone now?” Tyler’s voice was so commanding, she almost forgot about his memory loss. “We should be trawling through its contacts.”
She held it up. “I have it right here. I switched it off just in case the gang can track it. I was going to discuss the matter with Chief Crenshaw when he arrived at the hospital. A nurse told me that he called to check if I was here. The SWAT team told him I’d vanished, so he tracked me down. He’s on his way over.”
Not a flinch of recognition passed over Tyler’s face when she mentioned Chief Crenshaw, despite him and the chief being well acquainted.
“George Crenshaw is Godspeed’s chief of police,” she continued. “He’s heavily involved in the Southern Missouri Drug Task Force, so I figured he’d know what to do with the cell phone.”
Tyler’s impassive eyes betrayed his lack of understanding. “You mentioned that back at the old prison. What is the Southern Missouri Drug Task Force?”
Joanna shook her head, admonishing herself. “I’m sorry. I’ve been really selfish. I shouldn’t be discussing this case with you when you should be concentrating on your own health.”
“Hey,” he said in his usual unhurried way. “No apology necessary. If I want to jog my memory, I need somebody reminding me what’s happening.”
The sudden sound of raised voices in the hallway caught Joanna’s attention. She recognized them as those of Chief George Crenshaw and the mayor of Godspeed, Harley Landon. And they were calling her name.
When the door to the room swung open, she knew instantly that something was wrong. Both men looked at her with angry eyes.
“Deputy Joanna Graham,” Chief Crenshaw said, pulling cuffs from his pocket. “I am placing you under arrest.”
* * *
Tyler automatically positioned himself between the two men and Joanna. “What’s the charge?”
“Police corruption and drug trafficking,” the bearded man said. “And that’s just for starters.”
Judging by his uniform, Tyler knew that this man must be Godspeed’s chief of police.
“Evidence recovered from the meth lab, located in the old Southern Missouri State Prison, shows that Deputy Graham is on the gang’s payroll,” the chief said. He stared directly at Joanna. “You sold out didn’t you, Deputy?”
Joanna pushed her palms forward as if trying to physically shun the accusation. “No!” she protested. “That’s not true. If I’d sold out, why would I leave evidence behind?”
“I’m guessing you got sloppy,” he replied. “For someone with a Harvard education, you sure can be dumb sometimes.”
Tyler saw a flash of resentment in the police chief’s eyes, and he didn’t like it. This vendetta seemed personal. He knew that he should recognize these men, particularly the ruddy faced, uniformed police chief. But he didn’t. And it put him at a disadvantage.
“Back off,” Tyler said, becoming defensive. “Let’s leave personal insults out of this. What exactly did you find to incriminate Deputy Graham?”
The chief slid his eyes over to Tyler. “The SWAT team recovered handwritten instructions, detailing exactly how many payments this deputy was due to receive in return for safe passage of meth out of Missouri. It gave me enough probable cause to obtain a search warrant for her home.” He eyeballed Joanna. “I found approximately two hundred thousand dollars in cash hidden in your closet. Now where do you suppose that came from, Deputy?”
Joanna’s face was stricken with horror. “No, no, no,” she repeated. “Somebody must have planted that there.”
Tyler’s mind began to work overtime. Leaving two hundred grand lying around your home didn’t seem like the smart thing to do, especially for someone with a Harvard degree.
“Chief,” he said. “Have you considered that Deputy Graham might be the victim of a setup? Handwritten notes don’t really prove anything. Somebody could’ve deliberately left them behind before going to her home and leaving the cash.”
The police chief softened his expression. “I’m sorry, Tyler. Young Dr. Sinclair told me that you took a blow to the head today and tried to insist that I shouldn’t bother you this evening, but I have a job to do. I’ve been led to understand that you might not remember me.” He exchanged glances with the other man in the room, who was a few years older and chubbier than the chief. “I’m Police Chief George Crenshaw, and this is the mayor of Godspeed, Harley Landon.”
Tyler knew that these men currently saw him as weak, so he had to change their perception.
“Yes, I know who you are,” he lied. “My memory loss was only temporary. I’m fully recovered.”
A slow smile spread across the chief’s face. “Well, I’m mighty pleased to hear it. You had us worried for a while there.” His smile faded. “I wish I didn’t have to do this to one of your deputies, but I have no choice. She needs to be remanded into custody until the Feds arrive to take over. I’d rather investigate the case myself, but you know how it is. Small-town chiefs like me get pushed aside when it suits the FBI.”
Tyler noticed Joanna rest her forehead in her palm. “This can’t be happening,” she muttered.
“Why don’t you let me run her in?” Tyler said. “I’d like to be the one to do that.”
At this point, the mayor intervened. “Thanks for the offer, Sheriff Beck, but that won’t be necessary. Chief Crenshaw and I will do all the paperwork.”
Tyler narrowed his eyes. “Since when did the mayor of Godspeed assist the police with arrests and paperwork? I know I forgot a few things, but I’m pretty sure that small-town mayors don’t have that kind of authority.”
The paunchy, middle-aged mayor reddened and cast his eyes downward. “Ah...well...sometimes I just like to go along for the ride.” He put his hands in the air. “But you’re right, Sheriff.
