by Dale Mayer
She immediately nodded. “Of course I do.”
At that, Angela just shook her head. “That’s what this town has come to? Just threats and coercion?”
“Well, it’s supposed to be your town,” he said, with a sneer. “You’re hardly a decent sheriff though, are you?”
“Well, that’s all right,” she said. “You know it takes a little bit of time to gather evidence for a case.”
“You got no evidence. You got no case,” he said immediately.
“Oh, but I’m not alone,” she said. “We now have a team working on you guys.”
“BS,” he said flatly, his tone turning dark and ugly.
She looked at him and smiled. “Getting nervous, huh? That’s probably a good thing. Maybe you just want to fly back home again to Daddy.”
“I’m not going nowhere,” he said. “This is where we need to be right now.”
“And that’s one of the things I don’t quite get,” she said. “What kind of deal are you running that makes you think that all the property here is worth something? You must know something nobody else does.”
“I know a lot of things nobody else does,” he said, the sneer still evident in his tone. “You’ll never know even half of what I know.”
“Well, I don’t mind that, since most of what you know is useless anyway,” she murmured, her gaze going around the living room. “I still don’t quite understand, but I’m sure the answers will come to light soon enough.” She took another step into the living room. He immediately stepped forward, crossing his arms over his chest, and said, “You’re not welcome here.”
“Of course I am,” she said. “Isabel and I have been good friends for a very long time.”
“Well, we want some private time now,” he said, “so get the hell out, bitch.”
“And what if this is official police business? God knows I’ve got sufficient reason to sit here and to talk to her about some other issues.”
“Then you better be bringing a team with you,” he said, “because you’re not welcome here, and we’re not letting you in. So, go to the office and sit in your little room, where you think you’re somebody.”
“I don’t think so,” she replied.
At that, he reached for her, and, lightning quick, she grabbed his arm, bent him over double, and yanked his arm up behind his back, then pulled his feet out from under him, so he landed hard on the floor, face-first. Instantly she was on top of him, holding his arms backward.
“Get off me,” he whined.
She pulled out her handcuffs and clipped them on. She looked over at Isabel. “Is it just him?”
Isabel immediately shook her head and pointed upstairs.
Angela nodded. “Go get me a zip tie, will you?”
Isabel immediately bolted into the kitchen, and then she shrieked.
“That’s okay. It’s Bonaparte,” Angela said. Isabel came back out, Bonaparte right behind her, with the zip ties. She looked at Bonaparte and pointed upstairs. He nodded and headed to the stairwell. She watched, as, instead of hopping up the stairs of the old house, he hopped onto the railing and casually made his way up, missing all the squeaking stairs.
“I didn’t even get a chance to tell him that the fifth one’s a doozy,” Angela muttered, as she hopped up and made her way carefully up the stairs herself.
Isabel whispered at the bottom of the stairs, “What do I do?”
Angela looked at her friend and said, “Hide.” Then Angela went up to the landing and around the corner, her weapon at the ready. By the time she got upstairs, Bonaparte was in a scuffle with a much smaller man. A much younger one. Once she reached them, Bonaparte already had the man subdued.
She looked at him and said, “Henry?”
Henry just glared at her.
“Who’s the kid?” Bonaparte asked.
“This is Henry. I’m sure your dad will be thrilled to hear about your third strike.”
“What strike?” he said. “I’m just here, visiting Isabel.”
“I wonder if that’s the story she’ll tell when it comes to the courts?” she said.
“I didn’t do anything. I’m just here visiting,” he protested. “You got no right to even handcuff me.”
“You think so?” she said. “I’m allowed to do all kinds of stuff.”
“You better get your hands off me,” he said. “You’re done here anyway.”
“Ah, so you’ve aligned yourself with them too, have you? That’s okay,” she said, with a shrug. “We’ll see how you feel about it when they’re in jail, and so are you.”
There was only a tiny waver of his gaze. “They haven’t done anything wrong,” he said.
“Then what are you so worried about?” she asked. “If you haven’t done anything wrong, why get all panicky and start issuing threats? If you’re making threats, you’d better back them up.”
And, with that, Bonaparte led him downstairs. She looked around, and, as she walked down with them, she asked Bonaparte, “Where was he anyway?”
“He was in the master bedroom.”
She looked over at Isabel as she got to the bottom of the floor. “Why were they in your bedroom?”
“I don’t know,” Isabel said. “I really don’t want to go back in there now.”
“Come on up with me,” she said. “Let’s take a look and see if they stole anything.”
“We’re not thieves,” Henry said from the floor. The other guy didn’t say anything. “Jesus, you’re so stupid,” Henry told Angela, as he looked at the other man on the floor. “When he gets loose, he’ll be so pissed at you.”
“He might,” she said, “but he’s also likely to get pissed at you for letting your mouth run.”
“He’s not my boss,” he said, with derision.
“Yeah?” She stopped on the stairs, looked at him, and said, “So you came here voluntarily, did you?”
“Of course I did,” he said. “And Isabel let me in.”
“That’s funny because you know what? I got the impression she was afraid and in a very dangerous situation,” she said. “And that sounds like kidnapping.”
“Hell no,” he said.
“And you were in her bedroom,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the railing. “What the hell were you doing in there? Unless you had something nefarious on your mind.”
He looked at her and then a look of horror appeared on his face. “That’s just gross. She’s old.”
A strangled exclamation came from Isabel, but she managed to stay quiet.
“Ah, so rape wasn’t part of your plan then?”
“God no,” he said, “I already have a girlfriend. What do I need that for?”
“I don’t know, but, when we find guys stalking women, and they’re up in their bedrooms, nothing good comes to mind,” she said. “However, we’ll take your response under consideration.”
*
Bonaparte watched the interactions between her and the others. There was an obvious caring on her part, derision on the kid’s part, and anger on Johnny’s part. Bonaparte was still trying to figure out the other woman, Isabel. She had admitted that she and her mother had pulled some shenanigans to get her granddad’s property sold, and, while Bonaparte understood their financial needs to cover escalating medical bills, the mother and the daughter had crossed a serious line.
He also didn’t know what criminal action that entailed because it had apparently been the grandfather’s wishes to sell his property. But, without a proper power of attorney, the other family members didn’t have the legal right to do it. Bonaparte shook his head, thinking about all the times that there were actual crimes, wondering if this one was really something that mattered. It surely wasn’t the priority at the moment because somehow these two idiots had latched on to Isabel, and that did matter.
He looked over at Angela. “Will you go up and check?”
“Yeah, are you okay to stay here with these two?”
He gave her a wolfish smile.
“I’d be delighted to. Don’t blame me, if you find them with broken noses or black eyes, when you come back down. They look like they might try to escape.” She gave him an alarmed look, but he just gave her a sweet, almost angelic smile.
He meant it but would never cross the line like that. But he could hope that one of these two assholes wouldn’t try to escape and cross the line for him. He would like nothing better than a chance to knock them both into tomorrow, and, from the look of these two, they realized it. The younger one shut up immediately, and the other one just lay on the floor, quiet. Bonaparte wondered at that and walked over and pulled out his ID.
Immediately he started screaming, “Don’t you touch my wallet, you asshole.”
Bonaparte gave him a hard nudge with his boot. “You were caught in the criminal act of threatening an officer of the law, so I have full authority to check your ID.” He pulled it out and realized a fair bit of identification was inside—all in his name. Bonaparte walked over to the table and quickly laid them all out and took photos. He was just behind both of the men’s backs, so they couldn’t see what he was doing.
He checked the rest and found nothing of interest except a note, a little piece of paper, with a series of numbers, like a phone number. He quickly took a photo of that too. He sent it to Levi. Bonaparte’s best guess was that this was probably Daddy Gapone’s untraceable number, but Levi would confirm that later. Johnny also had several thousand dollars on him. Bonaparte whistled at that. “Wow, think you’re rich, huh?” He put all the IDs back inside the wallet and walked over to pop it into the guy’s back pocket.
“If that money is missing,” he said, “I’ll have your badge.”
“I don’t really care,” he said. “Rich assholes like you are no threat to me.” The guy just glared, but he was powerless to do anything. Bonaparte grabbed the guy’s phone next, where he flicked through his Contacts. Bonaparte noted a few before handing it back.
Walking over to Henry, the second guy, Bonaparte went through the same process. This one didn’t even bother to protest. But, then again, there wasn’t much in his possession. When Bonaparte was finished, he put the wallet back in the kid’s pocket. As soon as Angela came back down, he could tell something was wrong by the odd expression on her face.
Immediately the two men started yelling and complaining about Bonaparte to Angela. She looked at him, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged and said, “I’ve got copies of their IDs. We’ll need to figure out what’s going on here.”
“Nothing’s going on,” Isabel said, quietly at her side.
He looked at her and smiled. “So you won’t mind showing me your ID then.”
She was startled and immediately turned to Angela. “Angela’s known me all her life.”
“Then you won’t object to me taking a look inside your wallet then, will you?”
Isabel hesitated, and he wondered at that and tilted his head to look at her inquiringly. She looked back at the other two men and over at him and then back at Angela. Isabel gave a small headshake, which shot Angela’s eyebrows straight up. Then Isabel said, “Fine.”
Bonaparte took a quick look at her ID and photographed it, before handing it back to her.
Angela motioned to Bonaparte. “We need to take these two into the station.” He nodded, then walked over, picked up the one by the shirt and put him on his feet. Bonaparte did it so fast and in such a smooth move that the guy didn’t have a chance to do anything but squawk. Bonaparte did the same with the second one, then led them out to the truck, where he buckled them into the back seat. He turned on the engine and waited for Angela to join him.
He watched the two women, discussing something on the front steps. Judging by their body language, they were both definitely unhappy. He wished he’d had a chance to check into Isabel’s background, but instead he texted her DL now to Levi. She was connected to these two losers, so Angela’s best friend was now a whole different story. Angela hopped into the truck, and they drove back to the station.
“I want a lawyer,” the one man said.
She nodded. “You’ll get yours,” she said. “In the meantime you can park your butt in jail, until I can sort out the paperwork.”
“I don’t want to go to jail,” Henry sniveled.
“Well, that’s where you’re headed, and, at the rate you’re going, you could be there on a permanent basis,” Bonaparte said in exasperation. “These guys you’ve signed up with are bad news, so that’s what you get.”
Henry went quiet at that. But intermittent checks in the rearview mirror revealed a young man who kept looking over at the other guy, clearly wondering if Johnny would say something to get them out of this. Little did the kid know that he was just roadkill, as far as these guys were concerned. A lot of people used young punks, like Henry, to build themselves up. Having somebody on hand to push around and to bark orders at made people like Johnny feel like they were doing something special. They just used these kids for information and for local access. And that’s likely what this was all about.
All Bonaparte knew for sure was that something was going on here, and it was likely about the properties, since that’s what these brothers were well-known for. So why didn’t anybody know more about it? As soon as they got to the station, he marched the two guys inside the office and waited at her side for Angela to do the paperwork.
That was something he couldn’t really help her with, unless she asked him to and provided some information. So, in the meantime, he sent a message to Levi, asking for info on any local councilmen on the boards for the town’s property development or at the county level or any connection like that which could explain why these guys were all over the locals. As far as Bonaparte was concerned, something had to be going through, something being approved, or something that nobody else knew about.
Levi immediately called him back. “That’s a hell of a thought,” he said on the phone. “And a good one.”
Taking several steps back into another room, Bonaparte spoke in a quiet voice, keeping an eye on the prisoners all the while. “Well, somebody knows something, and they’re trying to get a jump on it, before anybody else finds out.”
“But that also could mean that it’s not been approved.”
“It could even be that it hasn’t come up for approval yet. If they’re playing a long game, it could be something that they know will go through eventually, but they’re taking a chance and buying up quite a bit of property in town here.”
“So, like a highway?”
“That would be my thought.”
“I’ll get on it,” Levi said, “and see what our underground network can come up with. Also the tax man is already looking at Ronnie’s and Johnny’s IRS returns. The brothers own multiple real estate holdings under various holding companies. We’re still on it, but it’ll take a pro to get to the bottom of this, shifting through all the layers, trying to hide the ultimate owner.”
Finished on the phone, Bonaparte walked back to where the two guys sat. He smiled at them. “Comfortable?”
The young kid looked at him and said, “I have to go the bathroom.”
“I can do that,” he said. He went to lift him up, but the guy hopped to his feet.
“Get your hands off me.”
“Okay,” he said, “guess you’re not going to the bathroom.”
“I have to go,” he said.
“Well then, you need to walk to the bathroom,” he said. “I’m not carrying you.”
“You would touch me.”
“I would help you get on your feet,” he said. “But, hey, if you’re one of those guys, then whatever.”
At that, Henry stopped and stared at him. “What do you mean, one of those guys?”
Bonaparte gave him a blank look. “The washroom’s down here. You have to go or not?”
“But you have to untie my hands first.”
“I’ll untie your hands when you get into the washroom,” he said. “And, if you’re going to pull something, you migh
t as well talk yourself out of that right now.”
“Why? Because you’re such a big tough guy? You’re just big,” he said. “You’re nothing beyond that.”
Bonaparte smiled and said, “So, bathroom or not?” He used a deliberately bored voice to let the kid know that he was about to get all the time he wanted because Bonaparte would walk away and no way would he walk back to the kid anytime soon.
“Fine, bathroom,” the kid said resentfully.
Bonaparte walked him to the bathroom, opened up the door, and checked inside to be sure it was safe and secure. Unclipping the handcuffs, he put the kid inside. Then Bonaparte just stood at the open door.
“Close the door!” Henry griped.
“Too bad, kid. When you’re in jail, you’ll be in full view of everybody,” he said. “So you might as well get down to business.”
The kid just looked at him, glanced at the door, then turned and walked over to the urinal. “You just want to watch.”
“Yeah, that’s probably your deal, not mine.”
“Jesus, what an asshole,” Henry muttered. Bonaparte heard him urinating and waited for the kid to finish washing his hands, before stepping back to the doorway. The kid came back out toward the doorway, but it was obvious he was looking for anywhere to run. Bonaparte immediately grabbed him by the shoulder and got him handcuffed again.
“You don’t have to handcuff me, you know?” Henry whined.
“You were checking out your exits,” he said, “so you earned no trust on my part.” The kid just glared at him. Bonaparte walked him over and sat him on the other side of the room from where Johnny was.
“Why can’t I sit over there?” he asked.
“I don’t want you two talking, getting your stories straight.”
“You don’t know anything about it,” he muttered.
“Yeah? Well, you might be surprised.”
As soon as Angela came back out, she looked at Johnny and said, “Your lawyer’s on the way.”
He nodded. “Of course. That’s what I pay him for.”
He spoke in that bored and entitled rich man’s tone that made Bonaparte just want to punch him in the face. He walked over to Angela, stepped into her office, and said, “Do we have anything?”