Carved in Bone

source that the sheriff’s office is shielding drug traffickers, possibly even extorting protection money from them. If that’s true, we can prosecute that as racketeering.” I nodded, remembering a case in which the Justice Department had once categorized the Chicago Police Department as “a criminal enterprise.” My ears pricked up when Price added, “We’ve also heard—not just from your phone call to Agent Morgan—that in the homicide case you’re working, the sheriff might be guilty of obstruction of justice, conspiracy, possibly even murder. What are your thoughts on that?”
    “Well, let me back up a ways.” I briefed the group on my involvement in the case, starting with the recovery of the body from the cave. When I described being shanghaied by Jim O’Conner, I was interrupted by a flurry of questions about the man; I gathered that O’Conner had managed to fly beneath their radar up to now. His secret road and kudzu tunnel seemed to excite them most. Did I see other vehicles? Any tracks from heavy trucks? Signs of marijuana cultivation, processing, or distribution? Containers or odors that might suggest methamphetamine production?
    I answered “no” to all of those questions. “This guy is interesting, and unusual,” I said, “and he admits he’s had some illegal business ventures in the past. But he was a war hero, and I don’t think he’s a killer.” The war hero status seemed to carry some weight. “The sheriff wants to charge him with the murder,” I conceded, “but then again, the sheriff has an old ax—a family feud sort of ax—to grind with O’Conner, so it’s possible that’s clouding his judgment.”
    I finally circled back to Price’s question about the sheriff. “Sheriff Kitchings certainly seems to know more about this case than he’s letting on,” I said. “He hedged and stalled and even lied outright when I asked what he knew about missing females. When I finally confronted him about the victim’s identity and his family’s connection, he pointed a rifle at me. If wishes were bullets, I might not be here today.” Several questions about the armed confrontation ensued, which I answered as matter-of-factly as I could. “I don’t know whether he’s intentionally obstructing justice,” I went on, “or whether he’s just behind the curve and reacting badly to the discovery that his family might have some involvement. That’s why I’m here today. I’d like to know what the TBI and the FBI can do to find out whether he’s guilty of more than confusion and a hair-trigger temper.”
    She glanced at the other federal agents. “Unfortunately, Dr. Brockton, I’m not sure the FBI can get involved in that case, although we certainly have an interest in it.”
    “Why not,” I asked, “if he’s obstructing a murder investigation? Isn’t that a federal crime?”
    She shook her head. “Not necessarily. You have to look at the original, underlying crime—in this case, homicide. That’s a state crime, so it would be a matter for the local prosecutor or the TBI.”
    “I’ve got no problem with the TBI handling it. After all, it was Steve that I called in the first place.” I turned to Morgan. “Who’s the TBI got up in Cooke County these days besides Brian ‘Rooster’ Rankin here? Anybody I know?”
    Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “We’re kinda in between right now. We just pulled the guy who’d been up there for years. We weren’t sure he was quite as… vigilant as he ought to be. Haven’t assigned anybody new yet. We wanted to focus on the undercover angle for awhile first.”
    That was disappointing news. “Well, you ought to have one hell of an animal cruelty case. Gambling, too. What additional evidence would you need to charge the sheriff with obstruction?”
    He winced. “That could be difficult, Doc. Although we could gather evidence, any criminal charges would need to be filed by the Cooke County DA or—more likely—by a grand jury. Taking it to a grand jury covers his ass, if there’s any fallout either way. Unfortunately, a Cooke County grand jury—the folks who elected Tom Kitchings by a landslide, you may recall—probably wouldn’t indict him. If they did, and the case went to a jury trial, he’d have a pretty good chance of being acquitted. Kitchings is a very popular sheriff up there.”
    I stared at him. “So you’re saying that even if he’s guilty—even if you know he’s guilty—the TBI might look