Buck must find two college students Ch21

ENCOMIENDA

Chapter 21

I knew there was no time like the present to have a heart-to-heart talk with Iris. I grabbed her with one hand and Wyatt with the other and walked them aside into the center of the hammock near the marijuana field.

I let go and said, “Sit down.”

They squatted on the soft earth in the shade of the rising hemp plants heavy with flowers and seeds. I sat also. I didn’t want to tower over them. I wanted us eye to eye.

I could tell by Wyatt’s expression that he had no idea what to expect. Iris, on the other hand, had a skeptical look in her eyes. She was expecting a lecture.

I said, “Did you take a good look at the boys?”

They nodded.

“How did they look to you?”

Wyatt said, “Pretty used and abused.” Iris glared at me.

“Right, these criminals are not nice people. You were letting yourself in for some of the same treatment. When the shooting started, did any of the bullets come close to you?”

Wyatt said, “Whizz-bang all around. We lay flat as we could get.”

“You could have easily caught a bullet and died. Are you aware of that? This day could have been your last day on earth. No more school. No more parties . . .” I looked at Iris. “No more hitchhiking. No more adventures.”

She sighed and fiddled with some grass stems at her feet.

“Having an adventure is one thing. But putting your health and lives in jeopardy is another. You were way over your heads this time.”

Iris said, “Maybe.”

“No, there’s no maybe about it. If we hadn’t come in when we did . . . if we had waited even one or two days . . . you two might have been two more victims whose short lives would have been reported in the media.

“Gone before you fell in love for the first time. Gone before your chance at college. Gone before a career. Gone before you could make an impact on the world. You’d hardly be remembered except as a couple foolish kids.

“You wouldn’t even have your pictures in the high school yearbook, so people could look at your pictures to help them remember you.

Wyatt said, “Ouch.”

“Wyatt, do your parents know where you are?”

“No, of course not.”

“What if tomorrow they read that Wyatt had been killed in a raid at someplace he had no business being? How would they feel?”

He squirmed but said nothing.

“All the hopes and dreams they had for you would be crushed.”

Iris said, “Why are you picking on Wyatt? It wasn’t even his idea.”

“I knew that. So you have another thing to think about. You not only endangered yourself, but you put a friend in danger. You nearly ended not only your life but also the life of someone you care about.”

She started crying because she was fine with putting herself in trouble, but she really didn’t want to harm anyone else.

She said, “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t want you to get hurt. I wasn’t thinking.”

Wyatt said, “It’s all right, Iris. I could’ve said ‘no.’”

I said, “Next time, please say ‘no.’”

Iris said, “There won’t be a next time, not with someone I like.”

“There should be no next time unless you wind up being in law enforcement and are paid to do this.”

“Wyatt, your car will be impounded. Both of you will be driven home by a law enforcement officer. So, your parents will know what you’ve been up to.”

Iris said, “Ok, we get it.”

I stood. “Then let’s go back to the others.”

Of course, we couldn’t leave immediately. Suarez had to get statements from Nano, Paulie, Scotty and me. But he expedited things; he had a lot of other things to do, too – multiple reports to file. He had to contact the DEA and the ATF and the FBI and the FDL – a lot of acronymic representatives to handle.

Wyatt and Iris were glum as they left inside a police car, although Iris waved to me a slight, barely perceptible wave.

Christian was happier than his usual contented self. I told him that his help had been indispensable to the positive outcome. He winked. “Hey, we’re still undefeated. Seminoles one hundred – enemy zero.”

I made a point of visiting Lieutenant Suarez in his office and thanking him. I said, “I’m glad we met. You’re the kind of police that Americans hope we have. Keep it up. You go by the law, protect the public without abusing the public. It seems slow sometimes, but it’s the way the police in a democracy must work. And when you had the evidence to act, you did. It was an honor to be able to work with you.”

“Thanks, Buck. The feeling is mutual. I wish all private detectives were as aboveboard as you.”

I smiled (what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me), then said, “One more thing – quit that nasty habit. I want to come back to your promotion to chief in a few years and I want to see a healthy you.”

“Ok, I’m trying.”

Morris Alcorn showed up while we were at the sheriff’s station. He stood around with his mouth open as if he were breathing in new knowledge. He would need time to absorb and reflect. He had already called AGG’s attorneys, who would begin assessing liability and damages to the corporation. Already deputies were joking that AGG now stood for “America’s Ganja Guys” and a new logo would include a marijuana leaf. Alcorn would have to get used to having his leg pulled, although he was entirely innocent.

Beanland was about to be buried in the penal system. He would face charges of kidnapping, enforced servitude, violations of several labor laws, attempted murder, murder (the cook and his wife were talking about the bodies in the canal), possession of illegal arms, use of firearms during the commission of a felony, growing illicit drugs, possessing and distributing illegal drugs, conspiracy to distribute illegal drugs. The police had caught a very bad guy, a truly malevolent being, cruel, vicious and ruthless.

His crew at the camp would join him in facing kidnapping, labor law violations and enforced servitude charges. Some would face accessory to murder charges and possession of illegal firearms charges.

His crew in the hammocks would share the drug and firearms violations with him.

Beanland was as brutal a human being as I had ever encountered. How he got that way will be the province of the psychologists and psychiatrists. I saw him as a huge mound of greed. I suppose that he ate as he did other things. When he was hungry, he wanted food and lots of it. He wanted the biggest, fiercest dogs. He wanted the biggest, deadliest weapons. He wanted money and lots of it. He wanted people around him that he could control and manipulate.

The police found over six hundred thousand dollars hidden in his doublewide trailer. Not only was he getting pay to run the camp from AGG, he charged the migrant farm workers for room and board, for transportation to and from the fields, for meals. Do the math: $25 a day from each worker times 640. That’s $16,000 a day for a full camp. And once they were in his camp, they were under his complete control. But even that was not enough for him, so he started his own farm system in the hammocks in order to exploit America’s penchant for drugs.

And that’s how Nano and Paulie fell into his grasp. I had Nano ride with me in the Z3 on the way back to Miami, and he told me the story.

But first, I thanked and said goodbye to Scotty’s men, who had performed magnificently. I shook the hand of each one and told them that I would be proud to work with any of them again. They left shortly afterward in the panel truck. Scotty was taking Paulie in the jeep to my office, where the parents were waiting.

End of Chapter 21

Happy Holidays to all.  I hope your holiday is safe and fulfilling.
 
Buck shows some ability as a parent.  He wants a family and children, but the woman he wants for that purpose is not cooperating.  The teenage years are difficult for both the teenagers and the parents.  The parents have so much they want to say, but teenagers are tuned out from their parents and tuned in to trying out life on the their own terms.
 
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