Ann sat down to the most relaxed breakfast she had experienced since the investigation began. Phase one was complete; Phase two would follow tomorrow at Bankstowne.

Sam's house in Bankstowne "What the h.e.l.l is going on over in Winston?" Tank shouted at his father, waving the newspaper from across the breakfast table.

"We had a troublemaker, and I told Joey to take care of the problem. d.a.m.n it, I didn't tell him to kill her. Now the cops will be all over the warehouse. But don't worry, there's nothing to link you and me to that operation. I've been very careful about that."

"How about S & T Distributing Company, the name of the company? That won't be too hard to figure out. And how did the SBI get involved in the raid? The article says they rounded up a dozen illegals that had been working there. Is that your idea of running a low-profile business? Illegal immigrants, for G.o.d's sake." Tank continued railing at his father while Pearl quietly cleaned up the breakfast dishes.

"Don't get high and mighty on me, son. I need to get back to Washington to start damage control. Henry is loading the car right now. Pearl, are you going to be ready to leave in half an hour?"

"Yes. I didn't bring many clothes." She walked over to Tank and gave him a hug. Her short arms couldn't reach around his middle anymore, but she held him for a minute without saying a word. Tank took her arms from around him and clasped her hands in his against his chest.

"Don't worry, Mom, it's going to be okay. I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she said then switched to a whisper. "Your father has gotten himself into a mess that he can't fix. Don't let him drag you down with him." Pearl reached up and pulled her son's face down and kissed him softly on the cheek. Tears welled in her eyes. "You take care of yourself."

It was the first time Tank had ever seen his mother cry. He choked up at the sight of her tears and pulled her back into a warm embrace. They swayed back and forth without saying anything to each other.

"It's time to go." Sam tapped her on the shoulder as he walked by. "You give them a good speech, son. I'm sorry I won't be there to hear it. I'll square it with young Thadus when I get to DC. It's a good thing the state is doing in saving those buildings. The museum will probably save this town from dying."

The three walked to the waiting limousine in the circle drive. "Seems like it was only last week when we did this, sending you off to college," Sam said.

He shook Tank's hand and covered it with both of his smaller hands. "We'll get through this. I'll call you when I get to DC. The arrests are a setback, but I'll get our lawyers on it right away."

Sam and Pearl entered the spotless black limo. The engine came to life, and they were out of sight in seconds.

Tank didn't feel like that c.o.c.ky boy heading off to college anymore. He was tired, scared, and just wanted to get away. He returned to the house to practice his speech, which he honestly hoped would lift the spirits of the town folks. It would probably be his last major act as state senator, and that made him feel better about himself. The town held fond memories of better days that had prepared him for the sports life he really wanted.

Back in his old room, he picked up a copy of his speech, looked in the mirror, and began. The words flowed smoothly as he recounted the history of the town. He made bold predictions of a bright future he could only hope would come true to lift the depressed mindset that had shrouded Bankstowne since the closing of its only industry.

Chapter 59.

"You can rest a.s.sured it will be the best of its kind and give back to the community by attracting tourists by the thousands that will need places to eat and stay while they are here."

The arrest Sam's limousine turned from Fifth Street onto old Highway 29 past the abandoned Shops buildings. Crews were busy setting up chairs and decorating the speaker's platform with red, white, and blue bunting. Right next to the platform sat the restored No.1401 steam engine with its bright green, silver, and gold paint gleaming in the morning sun.

"Pull over a moment, Henry," Sam said. "I want to get a good look at that grand old engine."

Henry pulled up to the curb and rolled down a window so Sam could get a good look.

"They were the backbone of the railroad during the war," Sam said in a wistful tone. "We wouldn't have won it without them. It's going to the Smithsonian after the ceremony, Henry. Did you know that?"

"No sir, I didn't."

"She'll take her place in history so children for generations to come will know what we did here." Sam closed his eyes and laid his head back. The car pulled away and headed toward the Yadkin River to pick up Interstate 85 bound for Washington, D.C.

Pearl shook her husband's arm. "Sam, wake up. There's a police blockade up ahead."

Henry eased off on the accelerator. The big limousine coasted toward a narrow highway bridge over the river next to the Yadkin Finishing Company. Two Highway Patrol cars with flashing lights blocked the highway on the Rowan County side of the bridge.

Henry slowed to a stop, and two state troopers stepped from their cruisers and approached the limousine.

"See what they want, Henry," Sam ordered from the back seat.

When the officers reached the driver's side of the car, Henry lowered his window. "What seems to be the problem officers?"

"Sir, would you step out of the vehicle, please, and show proof of your ident.i.ty and registration of the vehicle?"

Henry exited the car and produced his driver's license and registration.

Sam leaned forward to hear the officers.

"Is your pa.s.senger Mr. Samuel Johnson?"

"Yes he is. What is this about, officer?" Henry stood straight and held a tone of both respect and irritation.

"We need your pa.s.senger to step out of the vehicle."

"May I ask why Mr. Johnson needs to get out of the car? My driver's license and registration are in order, aren't they?"

Sam wasn't going to stand by and let the troopers work Henry over. He got out of the car and asked the highway patrolman, "What's the problem Officer? Why are we being detained?"

"Are you Samuel M. Johnson?" one of the officers asked.

"I am. Why do you ask?"

The other officer approached Sam and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "Mr. Johnson, you are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"

"My son is a state senator and he will hear about this."

"I am sure he will. Sir, do you understand your rights?"

"Yes, yes, I have a lawyer in Washington." Sweat beaded across his furrowed brow. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Pearl had gotten out of the car.

"What in the world is going on here? Officer, will you please move your car so we can get to Washington before dark."

"Get back in the car," Sam said. "I'll straighten this out."

"Ma'am, it would be best if you do as he says and get back into your vehicle." Turning back to Sam, the officer said firmly, "Mr. Johnson, place your hands behind your back." He spun Sam around and clamped handcuffs on him in one smooth motion.

Sam protested, dragging his feet as the officer marched him toward the idling patrol cars.

"Wait, Sam wait! Where is he taking my husband?" Pearl shrieked at the second officer.

"To the county jail in Salisbury. Your husband is under arrest, but you may post bail. You and your driver are free to go, but I caution you not to leave Rowan County."

Henry helped Pearl back into the car, a.s.suring her some terrible mistake had been made. She didn't share Henry's conviction that it was a mistake. Henry turned the car around. As they drove to the county court house to post bail for Sam, she pondered what would become of her.

Chapter 60.

"And this beautifully restored engine will take its place in history at the Smithsonian Inst.i.tute in Washington, D.C. Steam may be dead, my friends, but its memories will live on in your hearts and this wonderful museum. I appreciate this opportunity to give something back to Bankstowne, which means so much to all of us."

Dedication ceremony A large crowd of town's people a.s.sembled in front of the red, white, and blue stage and took their seats. Most with doubts but desperate hopes for what they were about to hear. Others wandered over to get a close-up look at the beautifully restored steam engine. Many former employees of Coastline Railway had spent all their working lives in those old buildings repairing those monster engines. Some with tears in their eyes touched it as gently as if stroking their favorite pet. They knew their way of life was gone forever.

It was a sad reunion. Still, they came, more curious than excited. The shop buildings had deteriorated from neglect since the closing of the facility. Not everyone was convinced a museum would ever be built. Most saw it as reelection grandstand to boost Tank's image in a race he was losing by double digits in the latest poll.

Bankstowne Police were out in force, directing traffic on Highway 29 into the parking lot and standing guard at the speaker's platform. No one noticed the contingent of plainclothes agents from SBI mingling among the crowd.

Rick and Wil were in quiet conversation at the back of the gathering.

"How did the arrest go this morning?" Rick asked.

"Sam was pretty upset. He even threatened to report the patrolman to his son, State Senator Corneilus Johnson." He chuckled. "The cuff and booking was low key. No one there knew him and Billings of the Daily Journal will hold his story until press time."

"What about Mrs. Johnson-how'd she take it?"

"She posted Sam's bail and they, along with the chauffer, are all at the Johnson's house. I've got a car staked out there to make sure they don't go anywhere. There'll be a hearing and arraignment tomorrow at the County Court House."

"I always felt sorry for Pearl. She was really a nice lady but had no control over Sam or Tank."

"Who knows how much of that is part to blame for their criminal behavior."

Rick sighed. He wanted to believe only Sam and Tank were to blame, but after his investigation, it was clear many people were to be implicated in Sam's operation. "Are we all set for the big bust?"

"Everybody's in place," Wil said. "And no, we aren't going to cuff him on stage. We'll take him as soon as he leaves the podium. His state trooper bodyguards don't have a clue, but I'll brief them during the speech."

"Sounds perfect."

"We're doing this by the book. The warrants are all solid. I don't want this to blow up when it goes to court just because we had some fun bringing him in." Wil patted Rick on the back. "I need to get back to my team. Enjoy the speech, big brother." Wil disappeared into the milling crowd.

At exactly one-thirty, Mayor Barnhart approached the podium to introduce the local hero. Rick fidgeted, shook with anxiety. Finally he would see Tank get justice for the suffering he'd caused others, the torment he'd put upon both Rick and Ann.

His gut tightened when Tank approached the podium.

Tank looked over the crowd before he began his speech. Their eyes locked and a charge shot through Rick's body like he'd put his finger in an open light socket. Tank smiled and nodded recognition of his old adversary.

Tank's speech droned on, a long nostalgic narrative of the Shops and Bankstowne's history. The audience was receptive to the congratulatory remarks of the dedicated work that had made the Shops a hub of activity for so many years.

Rick was caught up in the moment as his memory wandered all the way back to their early school years. In first grade, the Johnson's driver took Tank to school every day. Knowing the other kids always walked in the street like it was some kind of parade, he delighted in honking the horn to chase them to the curb.

Memories of how Tank dominated their final homecoming game flashed before him. As editor of the school paper, Rick felt a pang of guilt for having failed to give Tank the star treatment he actually deserved. That emotion was whisked away by Tank's cruel treatment and vile things said about Ann. He'd taken every opportunity to make Rick's life miserable.

"In my right hand, I hold the signed legislation I sponsored that will establish a first cla.s.s, one-of-a-kind Steam History Museum on this site. In my left hand is the letter of acceptance by the Smithsonian Inst.i.tute of Coastline's gift of Engine 1401."

The crowd came to its feet, applauding the promise they hoped would attract tourist and revive their dying town. A standing ovation lasted a full minute, prompting Tank to walk around the platform to shake hands with the blue ribbon panel of dignitaries that sat behind him. He turned and waved to the cheering audience with both hands, giving the V for victory sign and shouting to the excited crowd, "Thank you and G.o.d bless the Tar Heel state."

That cued his staff to circulate among the crowd to hand out b.u.mper stickers and yard signs with Re-Elect Tank Johnson printed in bright red, white, and blue. Even though he didn't want the job for another term, Tank responded to the cheers of his audience like his early days as the Undergraduate a.s.semblyman. He was a showman if nothing else.

Rick closed his notepad without writing a single word. He wouldn't need notes for this story. Tank always had things his way, but today his daddy's money wouldn't help him.

"We're playing on my field today, and you are going to lose," Rick said aloud with a s.a.d.i.s.tic grin that lit up his face.

Tank continued waving to the still cheering crowd. But Senator Johnson had performed his last official act.

He was on an adrenalin high when he trotted off the stage, buoyed by the cheering sounds of an inspired audience and the high school band playing the Carolina fight song. Energized, he bounded down the steps. A group of men quickly surrounded him.

"Senator Johnson, I'm SBI agent Wil Barnes. You're under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder and conspiracy to traffic illegal contraband. Please place your hands behind your back."

Tank's face drained of all color, and he looked helplessly at a crowd of TV cameras and photographers. "What the h.e.l.l are you doing? Mark," he called to his state trooper bodyguard. "Get these people away from me."

Trooper Mark Goodson stood silent and watched as Wil read the senator his Miranda rights.

Tank looked to the arresting officer, and it seemed recognition finally clicked. "You b.a.s.t.a.r.d!" Tank lunged at Wil, but two other agents restrained him. "I'll have your job! You'll be busted so far back you won't be able to be a meter reader."

Once again his eyes met with Rick's, who came to stand behind Wil.

"I hope you're enjoying this little show because when I get back to Raleigh you'll all be charged with false arrest, defamation of character, and anything else my lawyers can dig up. I had your number in high school, and I'll do the same tomorrow."

"You do that, Tank," Rick responded, "but just so you know, you aren't going to Raleigh. You'll have a private cell in the county jail. If you want to get back to Raleigh, maybe your mom will bail you out like she did your partner in crime earlier this morning."

Tank strained at the grip the SBI agents had on him to get at Rick.

"Okay, that's enough," Wil barked at Rick. "Come along quietly. We don't want to create any more of a scene than necessary." Wil nudged Tank away from the confused crowd and cameras.

A reporter shouted, "Senator, is it true you're illegally transporting cigarettes to a crime syndicate in New York?"

"You'll regret this," Tank said in a serious tone, and then he began shouting. "I promise! You'll regret it!"

An agent on each side gripped Tanks arms and pushed their way through a shocked crowd that had gathered around him. The agents struggled to get him into an unmarked car then drove him away.

Chapter 61.