Page 21 of The Right to Remain

Theo settled into the passenger seat. “Yup. Told him exactly what you told me to say. I’d like to take him up on his offer to march with him the next time he and Elliott take to the streets, but not if Elliott is about to spill the beans on some kind of shady operations.”

“What did he say?”

“Said his business is completely aboveboard, nothing to hide.”

“Did he authorize Elliott to give us a tour of the plant?”

“Yes. Apparently, he’s even stupider than he looks. ‘Have a look for yourself,’ he said.”

Jack checked his watch. “Perfect. Elliott said he can meet us at six.”

“What about this guy?” asked Theo, and Max seemed to know who he meant. His paws suddenly appeared on the console, and his huge blond head was between them at eye level. He was panting with excitement, as if it were a boys’ night out.

“Do you want to be the one to burst Max’s bubble and tell him he can’t come along?” asked Jack.

Theo acquiesced. Jack steered onto the expressway, northbound from downtown Miami.

“What makes you think the grand jury is investigating the business, anyway?” asked Theo.

“It’s a good question. My assumption is that the primary focus of the investigation is Owen Pollard’s death. There’s only one charge under Florida law that requires a grand jury indictment: first-degree murder.”

“I’m somewhat familiar with the concept,” Theo said with sarcasm.

“That said, just because a charge of first-degree murder requires a grand jury indictment doesn’t mean a prosecutor can’t empanel a grand jury to bring some other charge.”

“Like what?”

“You’ve met C. J. Vandermeer. Could be anything. But if the state attorney is focused on an employee like Elliott, it makes me think he’s fishing for something about the business.”

Jack exited the expressway and followed the road west, where countless boxlike buildings formed endless rows, each separated from the next by a narrow alleyway that was barely wide enough for a forklift. The buildings all looked alike, especially on a Friday evening at sunset, when the garage doors were closed and the roll-down security shutters were in place for the weekend. As Jack pulled into the parking lot, a row of photocell-controlled streetlights marked the transition from dayto night, blinking on one after another. Elliott met them outside the building. He was immediately in love with Max.

“Oh, you brought me a puppy,” he said, all smiles.

Jack gave Max enough time to make a new best friend, which was all of five seconds, and then Elliott led them around the side of the building to an entrance markedauthorized personnel only.A uniformed security guard unlocked the door and they went inside.

“Is your dog friendly?” the guard asked.

“Yeah, but he’s not,” said Jack, indicating Theo.

The guard laughed.

“He’s not kidding,” Theo said, which wiped the guard’s smile away.

Elliott led them past the employee clock-in station and through a heavy metal door at the end of the hallway. They entered a cavernous warehouse-like section of the building. It was quiet inside, but Jack imagined it would be noisy and bustling during business hours. Row after row of metal shelving covered most of the concrete floor space, each shelf holding identical padlocked boxes. Elliott led them down the nearest row.

“What’s in the footlockers?” asked Jack.

“Guns,” said Elliott. “These first few rows are for firearms collected through voluntary gun-buyback programs. A church or local police station might pay fifty dollars to anyone who turns in a firearm.”

Jack counted at least a dozen rows in total. “And the rest?”

“The rest are weapons confiscated by law enforcement. They all get shipped here. The first step in the process is to catalog the inventory, check each unit to make sure there’s no live ammunition, and send the serial number to ATF’s National Tracing Center to confirm that it’s not needed as evidence in any criminal proceeding.”

“Then what?” asked Jack.

“Follow me.”

Elliott led them through another metal door to a separate section of the plant. A sign on the wall said that hard hats and ear protection were mandatory. The necessary gear was hanging on the wall, available foranyone who entered during normal hours of operation. Elliott grabbed enough equipment for everyone, including ear protection for Max, and then led them around another row of shelves. A woman was waiting for them on the other side. Elliott introduced her as Sheila.