Page 42 of Justice for Daesha

And there he was?ReedEvigan. Convicted ten years prior on drug charges for running cocaine back and forth across the border. The FBI’s SanAntonio office had confiscated everything. Amos grabbed his phone and scrolled through his contacts, found the one he wanted, and punched it. It was answered, “Livingston.”

“Cruz?”

“Amos! Hey! How’s it going? Last time saw you was, hell, when was that?”

“It’s been a while. You guys doing okay?”

“Yeah, great, actually. But you probably don’t want to hear about that, confirmed bachelor that you are.”

“Um, I’m not on the market anymore,” Amos said and grinned to himself.

“No! You’re kidding! Well, congrats! That happened pretty quickly. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

“I’d love for you to meet her sometime too. I’m working a case that concerns her. Her sister’s murder.”

“Awww, hell. Is this recent?”

“Nope. Fourteen years ago. And that’s where you come in.”

“Fourteen years ago and I can help? How in the world is that?”

“You guys took down a drug runner. Artist in Austin named ReedEvigan. Ring any bells?”

“Yeah. Son of a bitch shot an agent, a friend of mine. Agent’s okay, but Evigan’s sitting in a Texas correctional institution, and I don’t care if he rots there.”

“I kinda need some information from him.”

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the phone. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

Amos chuckled. “Sorry. But we have a piece of jewelry related to the case and it’s bearing a mark that our lab tech seems to think is his. I need to know who commissioned that ring. Any way we could make that happen?”

“Well, how ‘bout I just drive to the prison and ask him? I’ve been wanting to glare at him again for quite some time. I guess now is my chance, huh?”

That made Amos laugh. “Glad I could be of assistance! But seriously, the sooner I know who commissioned that ring, the better off I’ll be.”

“Do you have a picture of it?”

“I sure do. I’ll shoot it to you. And Cruz?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”

“You’re welcome. That’s what we do, assist each other.”

“There’s a bottle of Kentucky bourbon coming your way,” Amos promised.

Cruz laughed heartily. “I’ll be looking for it! Talk to you soon.” Amos knew if Cruz said he’d do it, it wouldn’t be long before he’d hear from his friend again.

He went back to Kelso’s website. On the “about” page was ChanceKelso, leaning against a workbench with his arms folded over his chest. He had that outdoorsy vibe about him with his worn jeans, plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and dark hair and beard. His face was pleasant and he was a little on the stocky side, but he was just an average-looking guy. The list of their customers, however, was anything but average. On their testimonial page were the names of half the drummers of the biggest bands in the country. Most had pictures accompanying them, and they were behind their drum kits. All but one looked like it was shot during a concert.

They didn’t keep inventory; instead, drum sets were made to order. There were a few of them listed on the website.Holy hell. I could buy a decent car for that price, Amos told himself as he looked at them.

Mack wasn’t around, so Amos made a bold decision. He was going to see ChanceKelso. Maybe the guy would tell him something that would help. Regardless, he’d meet someone from Daesha’s past. If nothing else came of it, that would be enough.

Chapter 7

The driveto the percussion facility in Anchorage was uneventful. On the way, he called Jack. Even though his little brother warned him not to do what he was planning, he gave Amos the needed info anyway. With it, Amos stopped along the way and picked up what he thought would work.

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