Chapter 3: Sorting out the mess

The first thing to do in the morning was to make a few phone calls.

I called Bubba, and he gave me some good news: the Sherriff’s department ag theft unit had found two of the three tractors that Bruce had ‘sold,’ and had impounded them, pending my filing charges. They were tracking down the third tractor, as Bubba had remembered the name of the last buyer. He had a grove in the middle of the state, off state highway 60, which cuts across the state between Vero and Tampa Bay. They were contacting the Sheriff’s department in that county, getting permission to work with them and seize and impound the final tractor. That was about $120,000 in equipment that we wouldn’t have to replace.

Bubba was also doing a quick inventory of other equipment to see if anything else was missing.

He also confirmed that our grove employees had been paid.

A quick call to the Bank, where Hank confirmed my suspicion that Bruce wouldn’t come back to try and cash out the main account.

Finally, I called Pete and arranged to meet again for breakfast and review our status.

I kissed Clair and made to leave, after making sure that she not going to be too bored.

“Dave, I brought down a couple of books to read, and I have my laptop. I’ll check in at work and see if there is anything pressing we have to deal with.”

Pete was already waiting for me again at the little hole-in-the-wall café for breakfast. It wasn’t pretty or modern looking, but the food was good, and it was something of a hangout for the local farmers.

As I shoveled a mouthful of a great omelet with sausage and avocado in it, I look across the table at Pete and saw his eyes looking behind me with a panicked look.

“God damn you, you miserable fuck!”

I recognized the voice. Another local grower, who I had also gone to school with. I wasn’t close to him; he had been on the football team. Bruce was much closer.

Matt was a big guy, maybe six-foot-four, and he weighed in at over 250. Maybe even 275, these days. And he was strong. Even in high school, he could outlift anyone else on the football team, and there were some big guys on the team.

I didn’t turn around, I didn’t react. I just spoke to him.

“Hey, Matt, long time no see. What’s put a burr up your ass?

“Take a seat and a cup of coffee. I’ll even pay.”

He did sit down with us, on Pete’s side of the table, where he could look into my face. Pete was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“You know what you did,” he said, on the verge of shouting.

The waitress, who knew us all, brought Matt his cup of coffee right then. Hot, bitter and black.

“I really don’t, Matt. So why don’t you tell me?”

“I bought that John Deere tractor with the front loader from you, and the Sheriff’s people came out and accused me of stealing it and impounded it!”

“Ah!” I sighed, acknowledging that I understood now.

“Well, Matt, there is only one problem with your story. I never sold anything to you. And I never authorized anyone, including Bruce, to sell that tractor.”

“He’s your fucking grove manager, isn’t he?”

“He was. But our agreement,” I explained, “that Pete, sitting next to you drew up for us, limited his authority. He could not legally sell any of our farm equipment without informing me and having my permission first.”

“He said he had your permission!”

“So he lied,” I said. “How much did you pay for the tractor?”

“Twenty-thousand, cash, up front,” he replied.

“Let me understand: You paid $20,000, for an almost new tractor worth at least $60,000, and you didn’t think that there was something fishy going on?”

“I knew that he was giving me a great deal, but he said you were selling the grove and just wanted to dump the equipment as quick as you could and turn it into cash.”

“I hate to tell you this, Matt, but you were buying stolen property, and you’re very likely out the twenty-grand, unless you can find Bruce and get it back from him. I’m not holding my breath; I think that he has probably decided that Vero isn’t a healthy place for him to be.”

“Well, that’s easy for you to say — it’s not your money.”

By this time Matt was calming down and maybe redirecting his ire.

“Understand, Matt, he’s stolen at least twenty-five grand from me, and probably more that I just haven’t found yet. Bruce has been stabbing all his old friends in the back.”

Matt was nodding his head now.

“You know, Dave, he was kind of a slimy sort, even back in high school. Things would disappear from people’s lockers, or from their cars, at times. Everyone thought it might have been Bruce, but none of us ever caught him doing anything. Anyway, the things that went missing weren’t expensive or important enough for us to make an official report about.”

“I know what you mean. I used to see him doing things that seemed sketchy, but nothing that I could ever prove was wrong, and he always had his story ready.

Matt stood up suddenly.

“Where you going, Matt?”

“I’m going to look around in a couple places where Bruce might be hiding out. Places we used to hang out in when we were young, getting drunk and fucking women.”

“Let me know if you find him,”