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I don’t think they are going to move into Shadowbank.”

 Kamira’s eyes took on a new depth, saying, “I am worried. I think Willie Mae gave Vittoria a copy of the official membership roster of the State Line Mob.”

“Are you sure about this, Kamira?”

“No, not positive. But the ramifications of this could be disastrous for Jack, Terrance.”

Terrance nodded. “Jack can take care of himself. Hell, he had old Arnie Bailey ready to feed those State Line boys to the alligators to find Willie Mae. Trust Jack to do the right thing, Kamira. Besides, how would Willie Mae have made a copy of that list?”

Closing her eyes, Kamira sat back in her seat. “You’re right. I was there within thirty minutes of her calling, letting me know where she was. I’m just tired, is all. It’s been an awful week, and maybe my mind is just going places it shouldn’t be.”

“Now, let’s just concentrate on the case in front of us. I am betting Pastor Charles Chestfield is now living as Randall Lewis. How do you want to handle this?” Terrance asked.

Grinning, Kamira replied, “I say we relax for tonight and tomorrow morning, we lease two rental cars. You stake out the place of employment, and I will stake out the Lewis home. If all goes right, we should be home for dinner tomorrow night. Then it’s honeymoon heaven.”

Early the following morning, Kamira and Terrance, standing outside their rental cars, kissed.

Terrance said, “Wait for my call before going up to the Lewis house, love.”

Kamira smiled, “Don’t take too long. You know I loathe stakeouts.”

Kamira drove to the address in Denver for the Lewis residence and parked mid-block. Looking at the home, she wondered how does an accountant afford such a lavish home?

Terrance arrived at the Dunkirk Accounting office and walked inside, holding a briefcase to the front counter.

Speaking to the middle-aged woman behind the counter, he said, “Good morning, I have an appointment with Randall Lewis.”

The woman’s face became confused. “I’m sorry, sir, Mr. Lewis no longer works here. When did you make the appointment?”

Terrance, frowning, asked, “When did Mr. Lewis’s employment end?”

The woman replied, “Sir, I cannot tell you that.”

Terrance, pulling his badge out of his belt, said, “Ma’am, perhaps you can direct me to the manager then to answer my questions.”

The woman, seeing the badge, nodded and replied, “Have a seat. I will see what I can do.”

A few minutes later, Mr. Dunkirk, owner of the accounting firm, came out of an office and walked up to Terrance.

“Officer, if you will follow me.”

Once in the office, Mr. Dunkirk showed Terrance a seat across from his desk.

“What did you say your name was, officer? Chief Stanley did not tell me you were coming today.”

“Terrance James, special investigator with the Shadowbank, Mississippi Police Department.”

“Mississippi?” A stunned Mr. Dunkirk asked. “What in the world do you have to do with the investigation into Lewis’s embezzlement scheme?”

Terrance, surprised, replied, “Embezzlement scheme?”

Mr. Dunkirk, getting nervous, said, “Yes, Lewis has been shaving money out of this business on the side for over ten years. Tell me, Investigator James, why are you looking for Randall Lewis?”

Terrance pulled out his phone, pulling up the picture he had saved of Charles Chestfield.

“Mr. Dunkirk, is this Randall Lewis?”

Confused, Mr. Dunkirk replied, “He’s older now, bald and heavier. But yes, I would say that is Randall Lewis when he was younger unless it’s a relative? Perhaps you should explain why you are in my office, James.”

Hearing a knock at the door, Terrance turned to see Chief Stanley entering the office.

“Morning, Chief Stanley,” Terrance said.

“Good morning, Investigator James, Mr. Dunkirk.”

 Looking at Terrance, Chief Stanley continued, “So is Lewis, your man?”

Terrance smiled, “I believe he is. Mr. Dunkirk here has identified the photo.”

Looking back at Mr. Dunkirk, Terrance asked, “When did you let Chestfield go from your employment?”

Mr. Dunkirk, stunned, looked at Terrance and the chief. “Last evening, who is Chestfield.”

Terrance stood, looking directly at the chief.

“I have an officer watching his residence, and we need to go before Chestfield disappears again.”

Both officers started for the door while hearing Mr. Dunkirk in the background asking, “Who is Chestfield?”

Jumping in the chief’s car, Terrance pulled out his cell phone and called Kamira.

“Kamira, we have identified Chestfield as Randall Lewis. It seems he is under investigation with the Denver police for embezzlement. Any movement around the house?”

Kamira replied, “Yes, where are you? A woman and two teenage boys are packing suitcases into an SUV.”

Kamira could hear Chief Stanley calling for backup.

“Terrance, they are all coming out of the house now and getting into the SUV. I’m going to block them in. Get here as soon as you can.”

“Kamira, wait,” Terrance said into a dead phone. Kamira had disconnected the call.

Terrance glanced at Chief Stanley, who looked panicked.

Terrance grinned. “Don’t worry, Chief. My wife is a former FBI and Special Forces.

Starting the rented sedan, Kamira quickly moved the sedan to block the driveway of the Lewis home. Getting out of the car, she unfastened the strap on her holster.

“Mr. Lewis?” Kamira asked when she saw the man look at her.

Randall Lewis, agitated, looked at her and said, “Who are you? Move your damn car, can’t you see we are leaving?”

Kamira smiled slyly.

“Charles Chestfield, you’re under arrest for the murders of Daniel Billings and your wife, Faye Chestfield.”

The woman came around the car frightened and said, “Randall, who is Charles Chestfield?”

Charles panicked. Pulling the gun out of his pocket, he pointed it directly at Kamira’s chest.

“How did you find me?” Charles asked.

Kamira balanced her weight between both her feet, slightly raising her left rear heel.

The woman, scared, screamed, “Randall, where did you get the gun? What is going on? The boys are in the car. What are you doing?”

Charles, turning, shouted, “Get in the car, Cora.”

Kamira took that moment to move. Jumping up towards Charles, Kamira, now airborne, struck Charles with the heel of her right foot.

As Charles fell to the ground, Kamira lowered her leg, regaining her balance. Knocking the handgun from his hand, she flipped

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