Deadly Stillwater

Mac and Lich were in the back of an FBI Suburban with Duffy and Burton in front. Two additional Suburbans followed. Just outside the east side of Northfield, the group met up with the Rice County sheriff and three deputies in a parking lot behind a church.

Burton leaped out and was greeted by the sheriff.

“You must be Agent Burton.”

“I am.”

“George Glenning, Rice County sheriff. The place you’re looking for is four miles or so up the road on the right side. House is set well back from the road in a light grove of trees.”

“You do a drive-by?”

“Did it myself, fifteen minutes ago. Looks pretty quiet. A few vans are parked in front of the garage, but no activity. Lights off on the main level, although I thought I could detect some light out of the window wells. Someone might be awake in the basement.”

“Pretty sleepy, huh?”

“That’s my read,” Glenning answered. “You have, what, twelve men? Plus my four. That should be plenty of power. How do you want to hit the place?”

“Let’s go up nice and easy, without the Suburbans,” Burton answered. “If the girls are in there, we don’t want to give these guys any warning.”

“So we pull up to the end of the driveway and walk in quietly, then.”

“Yeah,” Burton answered. “From what you’re telling me, we’ll have a little bit of cover as we approach the house.”

“A little. The trees are tall but not terribly thick – cleared out around the bottom. The grass is pretty high, but no brush or anything to hide behind. So you can get to a tree and have some cover, but we’ll be exposed when we go for the house.”

“Let’s do it then.”

The Suburbans made the four-mile drive to the house.

“Do you think the girls are really there?” Lich asked, looking at Mac.

“I don’t know,” Mac answered, checking the clip for his Sig. “But the way Old Man Wiskowski reacted when we showed him the picture of the house, it was as if he put the puzzle together himself. It makes sense. The house is isolated. Steve Wiskowski was torn up about his brother. His dad’s going downhill and has been talking about Drew Junior’s death. How it’s Charlie Flanagan’s and Lyman Hisle’s fault. The old man is dying in front of him and can’t do anything about Flanagan and Hisle, so the kid does. We haven’t been able to find the kid. The old man claims he doesn’t know where he is.” Mac shrugged his shoulders. “This could be it.”

“I’ve heard of crazier things,” Lich said, pulling on his vest.

“It at least makes some sense,” Mac answered and then added, “We’ll know soon enough.”

The Suburbans stopped at the driveway, and everyone jumped out. They carefully made their way up to the house, a single-story with white siding and brick halfway up the front. To the right, the driveway swung around to a detached three-stall garage with two vans parked in front. As the group approached the edge of the tree line, there was a noise to the right. A man in blue jeans and a dirty white T-shirt came out the side door to the detached garage, wiping his hands with a rag. The man saw them, dropped the rag, and took off running towards the woods behind the garage.

“We got a runner,” a sheriff’s deputy yelled and took off after the man.

“You know what that means,” Lich said.

“Something’s going on here,” Mac answered.

The sheriff looked left.

“Now,” he said. Two deputies ran up to the front door. Everyone else fell in ten feet behind. One deputy opened the screen door and the other used the big ram. The door blasted open.

“POLICE! FBI!” Burton and Duffy yelled as they burst in and went for the basement stairs. Mac and Lich were right behind and went left down the hallway.

“Back right, Mac!” Lich yelled.

“POLICE!” Mac yelled as he burst into the back right bedroom. A man sat up in bed and immediately put his hands up.

“Don’t shoot!”

“On the floor! On your knees!” Mac ordered. The man complied quickly. Mac pushed him down onto his stomach. “Hands!” The man again complied. Mac quickly cuffed him and then was up again, following Lich across the hall to check on Riles and Rock, who had their man subdued.

Mac and Lich then cleared the bathroom and closets in each bedroom.

“McRyan, Riley, get down here!” Burton called from the basement.

“Are they down there?” Mac yelled as he bounded down the steps two at a time. “Are they… here?” Mac’s jaw hit the floor as he came to the bottom of the steps. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?” he groaned.

Rows and rows of mature marijuana plants lined up beneath the room’s ultraviolet lighting. Its street value was likely in the millions. Steve Wiskowski, kidnapper or not, was definitely a drug supplier.

Burton sighed, “Well at least the DEA will be happy.”

12 “ The Ransom.”

TUESDAY, JULY 3RD