CHAPTER 11
NOSY NEIGHBORS
On Thursday, July 31 we were all seated in the big conference room that we used for depositions. Ronald Logan, the FBI agent in charge of the Dusty Thomas case, sat next to Agent Maureen Cox, his assistant. Rebekah and her mother and father sat across from them. I was at the head of the table and Jodie was serving coffee. We had gathered to discuss Stan's disappearance and find out what the FBI was doing about it. It had been nearly a week since Stan and Monty Dozier had been heard from. The press didn’t know that they were missing yet. Everyone had agreed to keep it quiet in hopes that they would turn up. The FBI had set up taps on Rebekah’s phones at home and they’d wired everything in the office just in case it was a kidnapping and a ransom call came in. Rebekah’s parents were staying with her and the kids to keep her company and provide emotional support. She hadn’t taken the kidnapping well.
“Anyone else need anything?” Jodie asked.
Logan shook his head and said, “I think that will do it. Thank you, Jodie. Okay, I know you are all anxious to hear the latest news. We’ve been in contact with the U.S. Ambassador to Ecuador, Travis Bolivar. His investigators still haven’t been able to identify the persons who abducted Stan and Monty. Whoever they were pretended to be local police and staged a bogus arrest. No one interfered because they believed it was a legitimate police operation.”
“Has this ever happened before?” I asked.
“Yes, apparently so. There is a rebel group down there that uses this technique to kidnap foreign nationals and hold them for ransom. This is what we believed happened.”
“But why hasn’t there been a ransom demand?” Rebekah asked.
“Well, that’s a good question,” Agent Logan said. “It could be that the people who kidnapped Stan didn’t realize he was such a high profile individual. They may be assessing how much money to demand. The fact that the press hasn’t got wind of the kidnapping has made it harder for them to get the data they need.”
“So, this isn’t a bunch of thugs who did the kidnapping?” Paula asked.
“No, this is a highly trained, well organized rebel organization that gets a substantial amount of its revenue from kidnapping foreigners and holding them for ransom. We’re dealing with professionals here who know what they are doing.”
“Can’t the elected government help us at all?” Paula asked.
“If they could, they would. But these rebel parties have been operating with impunity in Ecuador for decades. I’m afraid there isn’t much we can do but wait and see what they demand.”
“I can’t believe there isn’t anything that can be done,” Rebekah moaned. “Can’t we hire some private investigators to look for them?”
Logan shook his head. “That would be throwing money away. The national government and the local police have assured me they are doing everything in their power to find Stan and Monty. There’s nothing a private investigator could do that isn’t already being done. I’m afraid we’ll just have to wait.”
“What about the press?” I asked. “How much longer can you keep it under wraps?”
“Not much longer,” Agent Logan said. “I think we should have a joint press conference in a day or two and advise the public of what’s happened. Hopefully the kidnappers will have contacted us by then.”
“Well, thank you Agent Logan for the briefing. If there is anything else we can do to help, let us know. In the meantime we’ll just wait for the kidnappers to call.”
Everyone stood up and prepared to leave. Rebekah gave me a hug and thanked me for keeping the firm going while Stan was gone. I assured her everything would go on as usual and I promised I’d send her Stan’s check each payday so she didn’t have to worry about money. After Rebekah and her parents were gone, Agent Logan indicated he wanted to have a private chat with me. We met in my office.
“So, what are you going to do about the Dusty Thomas case now that Stan isn’t around to help?” Agent Logan asked.
“I’m handling it until Stan returns. It’s not a problem.”
“Well, how does your client feel about that? Have you told him?”
“No, I haven’t. I think it’s a little premature.”
“Well, I suggest you tell him before the press conference. Better for him to hear it from you than read about it in the newspaper.”
I nodded. “You’re right. I’ll go see him today.”
“And Paula, you might want to think about the possibility that Stan won’t be returning. We haven’t had a lot of luck rescuing Americans kidnapped in South America. Odds are Stan’s gonna die.”
Agent Logan’s words sent a chill through me. It wasn’t just the idea that Stan might die that bothered me. It was Logan’s tone of voice. He almost seemed to be enjoying this turn of events. I stood up and said, “Don’t bet on it. Stan’s a survivor and I have no doubt he’ll be back here soon.”
Logan stood up, smiled, and said, “I admire your optimism, but if I were you I’d start looking for a new co-counsel. You’re gonna need him.”
I glared at Logan, too angry to respond. What a son of a bitch. “Are we done?” I finally said.
“Yes, I guess we are. I’ll be in touch.”
When Logan was gone, I started to think about what he had said. I did need to go see Dusty Thomas and tell him about Stan’s disappearance, but I was scared. What if he decided to fire me and find new counsel? After all, he had hired Stan, not me. But I couldn’t let that happen. This was my dream case and I couldn’t let anyone take it away from me.
It was quarter to four when I got out to the Double T Ranch. I had phoned ahead to make sure Dusty and Martha were home. As I was pulling up to the entrance of the ranch, I saw that Dusty’s neighbors were sitting out on the front porch. Since I wasn’t due at Dusty’s until four, I decided to stop and talk to them. I pulled up in their driveway and quickly checked my notes as I couldn’t remember their names. Flipping through the pages, all I could find was “Emma Lou.” I got out and walked up to the porch.
“Good afternoon,” I said.
“Howdy,” the lady said.
“You must be Emma Lou?”
“Yes, and who might you be?”
“I’m Paula Waters with Turner and Waters. I’m one of the attorneys for Dusty Thomas.”
“Oh, well it’s mighty nice to meet you,” Emma Lou said. She pointed to the man that was with her and said, “This is my husband Ned.”
I extended my hand and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” We shook hands and Ned invited me to sit down on a bench across from them. They both appeared to be in their late sixties. I guessed they were retired. Ned was tall, grey-haired, and wore blue jeans and a brown and white plaid shirt. Emma Lou was much shorter and wore a blue and white sheath dress. They both had a tall glass of lemonade. They offered me a glass but I declined.
“I just have a few minutes, but I wanted to ask you if you were home on the day of Agent Tuttle’s murder?”
Emma Lou replied, “Sure, we were home but we didn’t see much until the police came.”
“Well, if you saw anything at all I’d be interested in hearing about it.”
Ned spoke up. “I saw Dusty come home from cutting out there on the county road. He waved when he went by.”
“Did you see anyone else?”
“I saw Bobby Tuttle come by about twenty minutes after Dusty came home. I knew he was after Dusty’s tractor so I called Dusty to warn him.”
“You called him?”
“Yes, but he didn’t pick up the phone. I left a message, but I don’t know if he got it.”
“So, what did you do after that?”
“I was about to get in the truck and run up to the house when I heard a gunshot.”
“Could you tell where it came from?”
“Not exactly. It was from the general direction of Dusty’s house.”
“What did you do after you heard the gunshot?” I asked.
“Well, gunshots out here in the country are not all
that unusual so I didn’t think a whole lot about it until I heard the second one.”
“Really. How long was it between shots?”
“Ah, maybe five minutes or so.”
“Hmm. So, then what did you do?”
“I got in my truck and was getting ready to head on up to the house when the wrecker showed up and turned onto the road to Dusty’s house. I started to follow him and nearly collided with a silver Mercedes that was speeding down the road. I ended up in the ditch next to the road.”
“Did you see where the Mercedes came from?”
“It was coming from the east at about 75, I guess.”
“Did you recognize the driver?”
“No, I didn’t get a good look at him. It wasn’t a car from around here. I’d never seen it before.”
“The driver was a male?”
“Not necessarily. Like I said, I didn’t get much of a look at him—or her.’
“So, then what happened?”
“I was about three or four minutes behind the wrecker. When I got there, the wrecker driver was hunched over the body checking to see if he had a pulse, I guess. When I got out of my truck I asked him what had happened and he said Dusty had shot agent Tuttle. Then he called his dispatcher and told them to call the sheriff.”
“Did you see Dusty?”
“No.”
“Did you see anybody else?”
“No. I just turned around and went home. I didn’t figure it was any of my business. I’d just let the police handle it.”
“What about you Mrs. . . . Mrs. . . . I guess I didn’t get your last names.”
“Marshall,” Emma Lou said.
“Right. Mrs. Marshall, did you see anything that maybe your husband didn’t see?”
“The Mercedes had some minor damage on the driver's side. The side mirror was smashed too. The driver must've got too close to something.”
“Are there any roads into the Double T Ranch other than the main road?”
“There’s a road around the perimeter of the ranch, along the property line,” Ned advised.
“Could the Mercedes have come from that road?”
“It’s possible but I didn’t see it come from there.”
“Anything else you remember?” I asked.
They both shook their heads. I thanked them and headed up the road to the house. Dusty was out on the front porch and when he saw me he came out to meet me. We went into the house where Martha had made coffee. She poured me a cup and then sat down.
“I just met your neighbors, the Marshalls. They’re very nice.”
“Yes, aren’t they,” Martha said.
“Listen. I've got some bad news. I wanted to tell you about it in person before you heard about it on the news. . . . Stan is missing.”
“Missing?”
“Yes, he went down to Ecuador to try to locate a missing client and has disappeared.”
Martha raised her hand to her mouth and gasped, “Oh, my God!”
“Anyway, it’s been over a week since we heard from him. The police are searching for him, but so far they haven’t come up with anything.”
“So, what are you going to do?” Martha asked.
“There’s nothing I can do other than keep working on your case. I’ve done a lot of work already.”
I briefed them on my investigation to date and told them what I’d be doing in the next few weeks. They seemed happy with the progress, but I could see they were worried about Stan, so I said, “I know you and Stan go back a long way and you really trust him. I hope he is found and comes home soon, but I can’t promise you that will happen. If you want to get a new law firm to represent you, I will understand. I hope you don’t do that though, because I think I can represent you as well as anyone.”
Dusty looked at Martha and she shrugged, “It sounds like you’re doing just fine. What do you think, Dusty?”
Dusty nodded and said, “I don’t want another lawyer. If Stan thought enough of you to make you his partner, that’s good enough for me.”
I smiled and nearly started to cry. “Thank you.”
On the way home I turned on the radio to catch the latest news, but Paul Harvey was on. I didn’t usually listen to him but I figured his show would be over soon and then the news would come on. I was shocked when he started talking about Dusty Thomas.
“You’ve all heard about the Texas rancher, Dusty Thomas, who is accused of the murder of Agent Bobby Tuttle of the Internal Revenue Service. You know that he was found standing over the body with a shotgun in his hand, and that his case is being funded by the CDA, but you don’t know the rest of the story. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll be right back with the shocking story of the World’s Unluckiest Man.”
The station cut to a commercial break. I picked up a small tape recorder I kept in my car for dictation, stuck in a cassette tape, and hit record so I could tape what Mr. Harvey had to say. I couldn’t believe our case was the subject of his report. His show was syndicated nationwide so millions of people would be hearing it. I waited impatiently for the commercial to end.
“Yes, misfortune first struck Dusty on the day he was born. His mother died of a blood clot while giving birth to him. His father was so distressed by the loss of his wife that he turned to liquor to make it through each day. Three years later he disappeared and left poor Dusty with his grandparents. They raised him as best they could on the Double T Ranch just north of Dallas. At age seven Dusty nearly drowned when his grandfather’s bass tracker struck a stump in Lake Lavon and flipped over. When he was eleven, he was riding his pony when a storm came up suddenly. He took cover under a tree and was nearly killed by a falling branch when the tree was hit by lightning. At twenty-five he thought his bad luck was behind him when he married Margie Bassett of Wylie, Texas. That marriage not only failed, but Margie managed to spend Dusty’s life savings before she divorced him.
“The only bright spot in Dusty’s life was when he met Martha Hill of Dallas, his wife now of 22 years. Unfortunately their life has also been marred by tragedy starting with the loss of their first child to pneumonia. Then Dusty was lured into the tax protest movement, which led to his current battle with the IRS, a tax debt of over a hundred thousand dollars, and the murder of Revenue Agent Bobby Tuttle. In between all of this, Dusty fell off his tractor and broke his leg, had a heart attack, his house was blown away by a tornado, and now . . . yes, just today tragedy strikes again as his defense counsel in his murder trial, Stan Turner, has disappeared while on business in Ecuador.
“Yes, if the Guinness Book of World Records had a category for misfortune, Dusty Thomas would surely get that record. So now you know the rest of the story. This is Paul Harvey. Good day.”
I couldn't believe millions of people would now be talking about Dusty and his propensity for misfortune. I wondered if this would change the general disdain the public had shown toward Dusty after the support from the CDA was announced. Perhaps this was the angle we needed for a temporary insanity defense. Dusty, the world’s unluckiest man, finally cracked. Who wouldn’t after what he had been through? Unfortunately, both Stan and Dusty were adamantly against it, but as the case came closer to trial they may change their mind. I’ll convince them that is our only hope of saving Dusty’s life.