Colton Banyon Mysteries 1-3: Colton Banyon Mysteries (Colton Banyon Mystery Book 20)

by Gerald J Kubicki

  As Heinz drove he glanced over at Agent Chen. She hardly took up half the seat next to him. She was on her laptop and was pounding away furiously. She had not said a word since leaving the tattoo parlor. Instead, she had retreated to the official machine-oriented world where she sometimes lived. Heinz started clearing his throat to get ready to speak, but that was as far as he got before she spoke out.

  “I’m sorry I let you and the department down by being impulsive. I shouldn’t have gone to the tattoo parlor by myself,” she said while continuing to type. He understood she was apologizing for her behavior.

  “The only person you let down has to be yourself,” he replied philosophically.

  When he turned to look again, there were small tears in her big eyes. “I have no expectations for myself. I’ll leave if you want me to go.”

  The statement frustrated Detective Heinz. “Loni, I’m trying to be your friend here, not your interim boss. I understand your need to accomplish something.”

  “How could you possibly understand?” Loni shot back vehemently. “You’re a man, white, handsome, with a personality and even some charm. You’re also the head of a police department. I’m a nothing and will always be a nothing and have nothing to look forward to in this world, I’m a dismal failure to everyone.” she whined like a little girl.

  “Look, I don’t believe that. You’re an agent with one of the best law enforcement agencies in the country. It’s not a mistake that you’re working on this case with me — you are good.”

  “Well, you see, I’m actually just an analyst for the state police,” she quietly replied. “I’m only there because I spent ten years with the FBI and got nowhere. I thought I could work some cases with the state police and get some recognition.”

  “Oh,” Heinz uttered as he absorbed the new information.

  “When you called, I was sitting in my boss’s office, showing him my legs to get him to give me a real case to solve. While he was talking to you, he decided to employ me for yours. I’ve never actually worked in the field before. I know he really just wanted to get rid of me. All I know how to do is use my body to get what I want. Don’t you see I’m hopeless?” She clinched her little fists in frustration.

  “I knew it would be your first case,” Carl Heinz lied after a few seconds. “But I also knew you were well trained by the FBI.”

  “Well, I was ranked number three in marksmanship in my class,” she quickly replied proudly. “I also obtained a black belt in karate and could stand my own against bigger men in a fight,” she then added, “I was the fastest runner and swimmer in my class and the most agile by far. My test scores were always near the top. But it didn’t matter. All that the bosses saw was a cute little Asian girl, just like my father does,” she said with a sob.

  I would have described her as sexy before cute, Heinz thought in his mind. “Wait a minute Loni,” he bellowed. “I see you differently. I see a determined and driven individual. You are not afraid to speak your mind, and you are cool under pressure. Those are traits that I admire.” And traits I don’t possess, he realized as he said it.

  She turned and looked at him in shock. “So, you’re not firing me?”

  “No, I’m not firing you,” he responded. “In fact, I have something to ask you.”

  In the beginning, when she first appeared, he was just looking for someone to do analysis work. But things had changed since then and he felt like a different person. They had uncovered a conspiracy in his department. He also wanted to be near her, although he was not really sure why. He’d only known her for a little over twenty-four hours, but it had been the longest and most exciting twenty-four hours of his life.

  “What if I told you that I might have some opening in the department after this is over, and I want you to consider working with me in Streamwood?” It was said professionally. “It looks like some of my officers will be gone.”

  She stopped typing and fixed her gaze on Heinz. “You’re just trying to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

  His response was immediate. “On the contrary, I need new blood in the department, and I need you to help me clean up the department. I know I want to stay here now, so will you come to work with me?”

  She said nothing for a few seconds as she considered the offer. “Can I bring my guns? Can I dress anyway I want?”

  “You can dress like Chuck Norris if you like,” Heinz replied cheerfully.

  “Who’s Chuck Norris?” A blank stare was set on her tear-streaked face.

  “Huh? Oh, he’s a good guy — a black belt.” Heinz laughed.

  “I’ll consider your offer,” she coyly said. “But let’s get these bad guys first.”

  “Okay,” Heinz said lightly and stepped on the gas.

  ***

  The mood had quickly changed in the car and Agent Chen was back to business. “Timmy, the tattoo man, gave us some good information, don’t you think?”

  “He certainly filled us in on Dean’s operation, his connections to the church, and now we know all the names of the white supremacists are in town. We also know who set the fire on Barrington Road.”

  “When we get to the house, I’ll play the good guy,” Loni said hopefully.

  “Actually, I think you can play a better bad guy than me,” Heinz replied thoughtfully.

  “Okay, Chief.” There was a mischievous tone in her voice.

  “Don’t call me Chief. Call can me sir,” Heinz said as he pulled to the curb across from a small house in Streamwood.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  As Pierce sat at his desk in Westhampton, he held his head in misery. The voices were loud this time and told him that something was not right. The voices had never been wrong before in guiding him in his effort to complete his mission. They had again been talking to him on a steady basis a few years ago and outlined the plan. He had learned to trust them. They said this phase of the plan wasn’t supposed to take this long. They told him what to do. Without hesitation, he picked up the phone to make a call. The call was to Colton Banyon.

  Back in Chicagoland, Banyon along with Pramilla and Previne had decided to go out for lunch. His cell phone rang just as he and the twins were about to get into the car. Who could that be, Banyon wondered.

  “Is this Colton Banyon?” a deep voice asked.

  “Yes, it is. Can I help you?” Banyon was sure he had not heard the voice before.

  “Your consulting agency was recommended to me” Pierce said.

  “How can I help you,” Banyon quickly replied as he sensed a possible job.

  “I’m writing a book and need some insights into business philosophy. You do that kind of work, don’t you?”

  “Well, I’m really a management consultant, but I do know a lot about business philosophy, especially at the retail level.” Banyon was now calculating a cost in his head. He usually charged two hundred and fifty dollars per hour to have his brain picked.

  “Well, one of my associates will be in Chicago tomorrow morning. Do you think you could meet with her for, let’s say, four hours? We’ll pay you five hundred dollars per hour,” Pierce said into the phone with a grin.

  “I didn’t catch your name.” Banyon was frantically looking for a pen and paper. A useless proposition, since he never carried such things unless going on a client call. Previne dug into her purse and handed him both.

  “My name is Walter Pierce.”

  “And you said you’re writing a book?”

  “More of a plan,” the voice replied. “But it has some holes in it, and I believe you can help close them.”

  “What, specifically, would you be interested in learning?”

  “Well, my associate will only be taking notes at your meeting, but my interest is in the future of retailing. I want to learn about the changing environment. I’m wondering about the continued impact of dollar stores and the Internet. My associate will bring a check drawn on my bank for two thousand dollars.”

  “I’m kind of busy at the moment. I don�
�t have time to do a full report.” Banyon was considering the job interview which was coming up in three days. Not to mention the twins and the fact that someone was after him.

  “Maybe you can bring just an outline then? You can fill in what is necessary with my associate during your meeting.” Pierce made the offer as he felt that Banyon was hesitating.

  “I don’t know if I can get much done between now and tomorrow morning,” Banyon replied truthfully.

  “Alright then,” Pierce said tactfully and then used his secret weapon. “I’m sure you’re very busy. And since I’m calling long distance from eastern Long Island, I won’t take up any more of your time Mr. Banyon.”

  “Wait? Did you say eastern Long Island?” Banyon asked with some measure of excitement.

  “That’s correct, from Westhampton to be exact.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Banyon said. “I grew up in Speonk and graduated from Westhampton Beach High School. Wow, talk about coincidences.”

  “So you’ll take the job?” Pierce said, pushing the issue.

  “I’ll be happy to meet your associate. How about the Marriott on Cumberland? It’s by the airport. Does ten o’clock sound right?”

  “Splendid,” replied Pierce. “By the way, she’s doing some research on several people for me. Would you mind looking at a few pictures to help identify some locals from Westhampton? They’d be in their fifties now. A client of mine is trying to identify some old pictures.”

  “I’ll do better than that,” Banyon said with enthusiasm. “Since they’d be my contemporaries, I’ll bring all my old yearbooks and pictures and maybe we can match them up.”

  “That would be wonderful,” Pierce purred.

  “Mr. Pierce, how will I know your associate? What’s her name?”

  “All you have to do is be there. She’ll find you.”

  “Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Pierce,” Banyon said sincerely.

  “Oh, I assure you the pleasure is all mine,” he responded. “Goodbye.”

  Pierce hung up the phone and smiled. He couldn’t help admiring his finesse. His plan was now back on track.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Two minutes later, Dean’s cell phone rang. He was at the church with Joe Kroll. They were practicing their speeches for the evening festivities. Kroll enjoyed hearing the flow of words which came out of his mouth. He was known to speak for hours from the podium, ranting and raving about the future. It was part of his immense ego. He was looking forward to his oration tonight, and didn’t want to be disturbed. He was perturbed when the cell phone went off, but when Dean showed him the ID on the phone he knew it was important. It was the client Walter Pierce. He stopped practicing, and decided to listen in on the conversation.

  “Michael Dean here,” Dean said as he hit the speaker button.

  “I am very disappointed with you, Dean,” Pierce said forcefully. “You have not delivered the location of the picture yet.”

  “I told you Banyon’s in Las Vegas and won’t be back until sometime Monday,” Dean replied smoothly.

  “That’s strange since he will be meeting with one of your people tomorrow morning at the Marriott on Cumberland in Chicago. I have arranged it.”

  “But, how, what …?” Dean fumbled for a response.

  “Shut up and listen, you weasel. I’m going to tell you exactly what I want you to do,” Pierce said with true anger. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Dean replied.

  “Now here is what I expect of you.” The conversation lasted for a few minutes and ended abruptly when Pierce disconnected the call.

  Dean closed the cell phone and discussed the old man’s plan with Kroll. He took action.

  “Judy, come here, I have a job for you to do, baby,” Kroll called to his wife.

  Part Four

  Ula Woods

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  They sat in the police cruiser and from across the street, Agent Chen studied the old three-story house with a sagging front porch. The neighborhood was one of the oldest in Streamwood. Row houses lined both sides of the street.

  “Quaint,” she observed.

  There were several columns on the porch of Mrs. Woods home, and a lot of fancy trimming, reminiscent of old Europe architecture. It was quite similar to the house next door, which she had learned belonged to Michael Dean. The difference was that this house was in woeful disrepair while the other was pristine. Paint was peeling from the clapboards, the decking on the porch was not maintained, and several window screens were ripped. There was a driveway next to the house that separated it from Dean’s lot. Parked in the driveway was a new gold Lexus. She noticed the front door to the house was open and a screen door led into a dark interior.

  “Let’s go,” said Agent Chen said to Heinz.

  They walked across the street, and over the uncut front lawn. They climbed the three stairs onto the porch and stepped up to the front door. Heinz searched for a doorbell but found none. Instead, he banged on the screen repeatedly. Finally a boy of about twelve appeared at the door, staying half-hidden in the shadows.

  “What you want?” The boy didn’t seem to fear the police. He displayed the attitude of a petulant pre-teen.

  “Your mom home?” Heinz asked in a pleasant voice.

  “Nope,” he said too quickly and shook his head.

  “Are you home alone?” Heinz continued.

  “What you hasslin’ me for? I ain’t telling the police nothin’, ya hear,” the boy responded aggressively.

  “Do you remember me, Bobby? We met last year when you were involved in the car accident with your bike,” Heinz said as he attempted to be conciliatory.

  “I don’t know nothin’, don’t member nothin’, and I ain't saying nothin’ to you,” he replied with continued disrespect as he crossed his arms in defiance and stepped back into a deep shadow up the hallway.

  “We just want to say hello to your mother, Bobby,” Heinz continued calmly “Is that her new car in the driveway?”

  “I ain’t talkin’ — you got a warrant or something?” Bobby said. “And my name ain’t Bobby. It’s Robert.”

  Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Detective Heinz detected movement. It was Agent Chen.

  He watched as she walked over to one of the columns which supported the porch and began to climb it like a seasoned gymnast. When she reached the top, she quickly flipped over and onto the roof of the porch.

  The boy stood watching her with eyes opened so large that Heinz thought they might pop out of their sockets. He then yelled, “Shit, Mom, the cops are breaking into the house — there’s one already on the roof.”

  Heinz groaned inside and thought Agent Chen had once again displayed her tendency to act rather than to think. I wonder if I made the right call on her. His thought was distracted as he noticed movement from the back of the house. Heinz could see a woman sprinting up to the door. She skidded to a halt.

  “Good to see you again, Mrs. Woods,” Heinz greeted her and tipped his head.

  She, like her son, stood in the shadows. His senses were alerted. “If you ain’t got no warrant, you in big trouble. We gonna sue,” she spewed out hotly. Ula Woods now stood defiantly with her hands on her hips like her son.

  The tension was very high between the police officer and the Woods family, but a meow distracted them. When Heinz turned he saw Agent Chen standing next to him and cradling a small kitten in her arms. What the hell, he thought.

  “I saw this kitten in peril on the porch roof as we walked up to your house,” she stated calmly. “Safety is always a police officer’s first concern. I barely had time to climb up and save his life. Is this your cat Mrs. Woods?”

  “So what if it is,” Mrs. Woods demanded and snorted.

  “Well, you see it’s like this, he doesn’t have a collar, and by the way, no pets are allowed outside unleashed on weekends in Streamwood. Now, to whom shall I make the ticket out?” Her look was stern.

  Heinz stood th
ere bewildered. Did she plan this to draw out Mrs. Woods, or was she just being impulsive?

  Agent Chen continued, “I also noticed your car is blocking half of the sidewalk. That’s a non-moving violation, with a seventy-five-dollar fine attached. If you can’t pay, we can impound the car until you come up with the money. You understand that at the police impound, we can’t take responsibility for anything that may happen to it and it will probably be searched as well. You can expect it to be gone for a week or two at least.”

  Mrs. Woods remained silent with her arms crossed, but Heinz could see she was rattled. He stood back and folded his arms as Agent Chen continued.

  The tension was once again growing. Subtly, Agent Chen slipped in, “We’re on to you, Mrs. Woods.”

  “Leave my mom alone,” the boy cried out. There was fear in his voice.

  Agent Chen continued, “Your car — it is your car, isn’t it — has a good-sized dent in the front fender. How did that happen? I hope you’ve reported the accident properly. It’ll just take a minute to check, okay? Oh, if you haven’t reported it, well, we’ll have to take you down to the station for an ‘interview.’” She used her fingers to indicate a quote for emphasis. “Do you need to get your purse with proper ID? Of course, there’s …”

  Mrs. Woods now appeared in the doorway. She was very agitated. “Get away from me,” she admonished.

  Agent Chen continued, “We can get a warrant. It would only take a few hours. We could wait across the street in our cruiser and…”

  At that point Mrs. Woods threw up her arms and said, “Stop.”

  “May we come in and talk?” Heinz asked.

  She pushed the screen door open and said, “You might as well come in. Let’s get this over with.”

  Heinz smiled at Loni gestured with his hand for her to go first while acknowledging her successful implementation of a good plan to draw out Mrs. Woods. Agent Chen, however, did not move. She stood her ground and petted the kitten.