Free Killing The Blood Cleaner by Davis Hewitt Page B

reticence to discuss the local drug smuggling culture only increased Jack’s interest in the subject.
    “An Atlanta magazine did an article on the smuggling industry on the Coast a while back. I recall them saying that marijuana and cocaine smuggling were the number three industry down here, right after shrimp and Sea Island. I also remember seeing in a newspaper that the Georgia Attorney General had tried to prosecute a Deputy down here and at the trial called some Sheriff a … fountain of corruption. Is all of that right? It sounded pretty authoritative,” Jack asked, watching Cindy closely.
    “That Cindy’s Sheriff, Roger Odum all right. He’s been down here for years and he is famous. But there are a lot of folks that love him. He is always helping some local charity or making big donations to some politician’s campaign fund,” was the giggled response of Danielle. “You always hear that there is some big investigation going on and that our local Judge Valentino, the one that did the Georgia Maximum Security Prison case and isn’t afraid of the devil himself, will be coming down on them. But for years nothing has happened and Cindy is still not in jail. Of course, some people who might have been witnesses have disappeared sometimes and that may have slowed things down,” she continued less gleefully.
    Cindy added, “Oh, I see that stuff in the newspapers too. And sometimes we get subpoenas from the Court about our activities. But all we do is arrest drunks, break up domestic fights, give out traffic tickets, and serve divorces and lawsuits. Sometimes some of the shrimpers or high school students get caught with a little marijuana or cocaine, but the Sheriff arrests them and they go to jail with everybody else. I think if this were true the Feds or the Georgia Attorney General would’ve arrested him years ago like they did in Charleston and Savannah with the big busts they had up there. Anyway, if they were doing stuff like that I don’t think they would be including a little file clerk and secretary,” she commented, crisply.
    Dr. Clayton interjected, “I heard a story once about the drug trade in Key West from a friend of mine at the Georgia Attorney General’s office. There was a little State Bank down there with one head cashier. She was an old lady and lived in a trailer with her dog on one of the back Keys. Late one night, the dopers broke into her trailer and gave her the choice of them shooting her and her dog right then, or taking the automatic cash counter they brought with them and processing bags of bills and depositing them in the bank without the proper Treasury paperwork for $10,000 a week. Of course, she and the dog decided not to be shot and when she died of a heart attack two years later they found the cash counter and two million in plastic trash bags in her trailer. Apparently they were able to run about $40 million through that little bank with her help,” Dr. Clayton said.
    Jack jumped in as Cindy was looking a little irritated. “Gosh, I hope they didn’t prosecute the dog. Cindy, we don’t mean to imply that you were personally involved. But you do sort of look like a sexy drug babe, and I mean that as a compliment,” he continued.
    Cindy’s expression eased and changed to a faint smile. “Yes, that is right. Like that old lady in the Keys, I have millions of dollars in cash hidden in my luxury trailer in Ossabaw County,” she replied with a laugh. At this moment the waiter arrived with their dinners and two bottles of chilled Chardonnay. The music from the disk jockey in the dance room next door picked up and they all had to nearly shout as the subject turned to sea trout and beach music. The seafood was quickly devoured amid laughter with Jack and Cindy moving their chairs a little closer together and Howard and Danielle eyeing each other with smiles. The dinner closed with the waiter flaming a Bananas Foster for four with an elegant flourish along with cognacs for the