Armed and Outrageous (An Agnes Barton Mystery)

by Johns, Madison

  I knew the Tadium area was more of a retirement destination. “No, not half at all, the list is smaller than you’d think.”

  “I thought you were searching for that missing rich girl?” He sneered.

  “I am, but I now know there is a connection between the Robinson murders and the missing girl Jennifer.” I curled my lip. “Roy, what do you know about Jennifer Martin's disappearance?”

  He shifted his eyes nervously, indications of a liar. He rubbed his bald head to dot away the sweat that beaded up. “I had hoped we could be friends, but you are making that impossible,” he whispered to me. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you'll never see your granddaughter again.”

  He walked away, while fireworks lit up inside my head. He knows where my granddaughter Sophia is.

  I whirled around toward the bimbo, Glenda. She was gone, along with the mystery man, Anthony, and when I turned my head back toward Roy, I didn’t see him either. He had disappeared within the crowd! It then occurred to me that everything was related.

  I ran to Rosa Lee, who had just returned, followed by a stumbling Andrew.

  “Does Roy have a boat?” I searched her face frantically for her response. Something about the whole boat reference struck home to me.

  “Sure does. He used to run charter trips. I did always wonder why he quit.” She stretched her arms.

  Wheels although a bit rusty, turned inside my head and everything came full circle and collided together. Sophia, oh God, poor Sophia!

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I didn't waste another moment, and without another word to either Rosa Lee or Andrew, I raced across the lawn and entered the woods. As voices drifted toward me, I was convinced it was Roy and his accomplices. I gave no thought to go for help, even though I knew Andrew and the troopers were close by. If I went for help, I might lose the trio and what then? I was more than convinced if I followed them, they'd lead me straight to both Jennifer and Sophia. I just hoped I'd catch up to them without being discovered by the miscreants.

  I ducked behind a pine tree as I heard voices directly ahead.

  “She’s harmless,” one voice said.

  “You wouldn’t say that if she had destroyed your life. You have no idea how much I lost in that damn divorce.”

  I heard giggles next.

  It had to be Roy and the mystery couple, Anthony and Glenda.

  “There is no point in worrying now. It’s too damn late for that. If we don’t move soon, the buyers will withdraw their offer.”

  “Why in the hell would they do that?”

  “There’s only one night they can make it ashore without being seen.”

  “The authorities monitor the boats coming from Canada these days.”

  “Yes, but they can't keep track of all of them, not on the Fourth of July.”

  I shook inside. Why was a boat coming ashore? And what if anything did it have to do with Jennifer or my granddaughter? I stepped back. I had to tell Trooper Sales what I'd heard.

  I stepped on a branch.

  Snap!

  I stood there, shaking. I felt frozen, and it occurred to me that I should duck back behind the tree again and conceal myself, but in a panic, I knelt. I knew it was too late!

  “There she is,” Anthony Cicero shouted.

  I jumped up fast which jarred my hip. The pain shot up my spine, and I gasped at the intensity. I hobbled toward the line of trees ahead of me. I focused on the smell of cooking pork, and in my delusional state, I hadn’t noticed the stranger who had jumped ahead of me and now blocked my way.

  He grabbed my arm and gave it a vicious twist that brought me to my knees. Then even my knees buckled beneath me, and I fell to the ground. I lay on the ground helpless, my face pressed against fallen pine needles and dirt. I tried to catch my breath and inhaled sharply, but all I could smell was earth.

  Pain shot into my head when the stranger grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head backward. I fell forward when my thin hair gave way.

  He kicked at me, rolling me to my back. I struggled to open my eyes and when I did, I was facing the barrel of a gun.

  “Get up!” Anthony ordered.

  Roy came forward and helped me to my feet. I saw the regret reflected in his eyes. “Get up, Agnes.”

  I rose to my feet, and I was pushed deeper into the woods. Where are they taking me? I feared they planned to kill me somewhere out in the forest.

  “I’d much rather we shoot her right here,” Anthony said.

  “No, we’re not doing that; someone would hear,” Roy insisted.

  “We’ll pose her body like the other two.”

  Roy threw his arms up. “We need to move before someone comes looking for her.”

  “That bunch of stoned old folks won’t miss her until tomorrow.”

  “I’m taking her to the cabin.” Roy firmly gripped my arm, and led me down a trail I had never seen before. All the twists and turns made me feel dizzy, and I felt the need to sit down.

  Tall pine trees loomed overhead, blocking out the sun. We neared what looked to be a deserted cabin, based on the fact that discarded tin cans littered the ground. I followed Roy inside the cabin. What else could I do?

  Inside stood a table centered in the room. He pushed it aside and lifted a trap door revealing a set of steps going downward. I saw death below if I made one false step, something that would be easy to do at my age. My head hurt, my hip hurt, and I felt dizzy. Roy, who'd guided me inside, stood staring into my eyes as he if knew what I was thinking.

  “Take your time, Agnes, I can’t have you falling,” Roy said.

  Not sure why now Roy showed a sudden concern for my welfare.

  I gulped and felt nauseous as the stench of mold and unwashed bodies filled the tiny space as I descended. At first I thought it was Roy until I made it to the bottom of the steps.

  I stood in an open room, surrounded by six barred doors. It appeared to be a jail of some sort. The dirt floor felt hard, as it had been packed by hundreds of feet walking over it.

  I moved toward the barred doors and saw ten women looking up at me with tear-streaked faces. They wore what appeared to be rags, but upon closer inspection, I saw they simply were dirty and unwashed, their dirty hair covering most of their faces. Glazed-over eyes stared through the bars but they didn’t register or respond to me or anyone else in the room. It was as if they were numb inside like empty shotgun shells.

  Whatever was happening here, it wasn’t good. I searched the faces for Jennifer and Sophia, but I didn’t see them. These women were herded here like animals for some purpose, but what?

  I looked ahead to a solid door as it opened. It was Jennifer and Sophia wrapped in a towel. Their white-knuckled fingers were gripping the towels like a lifeline.

  Following them out was a woman dressed in green camouflage. Her gray hair pulled back tightly. She looked like a drill sergeant and about my age.

  “Who’s next to look pretty for the buyers?” the woman asked. She yanked open a barred door and pulled out two women. One clung to the bar, but the woman struck her full across the face. I was torn. I felt the urge to protect Jennifer and Sophia, yet compelled to help the poor girl being abused at the same time.

  “Stop hitting her, Marge,” Roy shouted. “They won’t want her if she’s damaged!”

  Marge turned and sneered. “They’re all damaged goods if you ask me. Isn't that right, girls?”

  The women trembled, and pure terror shone from their eyes.

  Anthony tossed clothing at Jennifer and Sophia, and they turned their backs and quickly donned them. I stood in front of them, determined to keep the men’s hungry gazes away.

  I saw the bimbo, Glenda, shake with the realization as to why she was here. “What, what’s going on?”

  Anthony led Glenda to a cell and threw her inside. “I should have done it this way all along. You were so eager to get your claws into a rich man. I could have led a hundred of you stupid bitches here to sell.” He glared at Roy. “Kidnapping ri
ch girls with families who give a damn about them just isn’t a good idea.”

  Roy’s eyes flicked back and forth from Anthony to me. “You shouldn’t have kidnapped Sophia, she doesn’t deserve to be here.”

  Anthony pointed at me. “I did that to get back at this old crone. Sophia's medical knowledge has worked well for us. It’s the only thing that kept the Martin girl alive.”

  “Roy, I take it Stella isn’t your daughter,” I said, “I found out she was adopted and there was no way you could know she is your daughter.”

  Roy hung his head. “I always liked Stella, and I tried to help her, but – “

  “You needed the money more,” Anthony spat. “If not for your connections Roy, I’d have no use for you.”

  “I’m just as vested in this as you, and once Agnes is out of the picture, it will be smooth sailing. Nobody suspects me.”

  I hugged Sophia and Jennifer close as we were shoved into a cell. Roy slammed the door shut and whispered in my ear, “Sorry it has to be this way.”

  This seemed so wrong, why would Roy do this? I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that someone I knew so well would be involved in human trafficking.

  I gazed at him with imploring eyes.

  I sat down, watching as the women were shuffled into the shower room-by-twos. I huddled the girls together.

  Tears poured from my eyes as I looked into Sophia’s startled face. She touched my face in wonder, and I hugged her so tightly that Sophia gasped slightly. I then released her when I realized I about sucked the life out of her. I was just so glad to see Sophia again. I had all but given up hope of ever seeing her alive, but here she was... right in front of me, not a corpse like I figured. I was overcome with emotion and words for a moment.

  “Grams, how ever did you find me?”

  “It was an accident really.” I wiped the tears back, “I never gave up on you sweet, Sophia.” I hugged her again, “Not for a single moment.”

  I pulled away and inspected her rosy cheeks for any marks or signs of abuse. These people would rue the day they took my Sophia from me.

  She was dressed in a white dress that clung to her curves. She looked so thin that it brought more tears to my eyes, her brown, wet hair felt cool to my skin.

  My heart swelled with love as I gazed at her, even in her fragile state. I had to figure out a way to get us out of here somehow. It would be so unfair to find her only to lose her again.

  I heard the door open, and Marge returned with the next two young women, and as they dressed, I felt a surge of anger pulse through my veins.

  “What is the meaning of this?” I asked Marge, who seemed in charge, boss of the outfit.

  She turned and gritted her teeth, displaying them. “Whose idea do you think this operation is? My stupid son, Anthony? He’s too busy screwing every stupid bitch he can, just like his father.” Brushing her nails across her shirt, she shook her head to indicate how sad it all made her feel. “They call my husband, The Hammer, and I’m not just talking about his bedroom skills.”

  “Sounds like a real character,” I said, hoping to keep her talking. The more I learn, I figured, the better to fry these bastards with if and when we got free.

  Muscle-woman continued as if starved for conversation. “My husband and I came here in 1968 for a vacation. When he returned one night to our cabin, he was covered in blood.”

  “In '68, oh my... covered in blood?” I immediately thought of the Robinson Family murders.

  “Bruno told me there was a woman in town that he fancied, and when he couldn’t get into her pants, he followed her home. He then raped her. He told me how she begged him to leave afterward. She promised not to tell. She tried to protect her family you see, but what she didn’t know was The Hammer does what he does best, kill without mercy.”

  I shuddered involuntarily. “Let me guess, the goons in town are your sons too.”

  Marge nodded. “You killed two of my boys, and I had hoped my other boys had killed you, but I see they botched the job. You’ll be seeing my son Timothy soon. I may give him and Anthony a round or two with your granddaughter.”

  I felt my revolver in my pocket. I may not be able to shoot our way out of here, but if those goons come anywhere near my Sophia... they’ll be the first to die. It had been a miracle it didn’t fall out of my pocket during my fall in the woods.

  I had five bullets and needed to use them wisely.

  “Why were they in town searching for Stella?”

  “I was afraid that Stella might go to the police when her daughter went missing. She knew what my family was capable of.”

  “She did?”

  “Bruno raped Stella years ago and threatened to kill her family, but when she disappeared it became pointless.”

  “How did she know your sons had kidnapped Jennifer?”

  “Roy let it slip and she went into hiding.” She snarled. “She had to be killed before she told someone.”

  “Why kill the handyman then?”

  “Billy Chambers stumbled upon Anthony in the woods, and he recognized his face. He does look so like his father. Anthony thought it conceivable that the handyman would kill Stella and then himself.”

  “How could he hang himself from a clothes line when he was confined to a wheelchair?” I shifted to my good hip. “If he saw your husband kill the Robinson family, why didn’t he tell the police?”

  “He may have, but my husband wasn’t known to the area. They believed it was the handyman all along. Police make mistakes all the time.”

  I was afraid to ask. “What happened to your husband?”

  “You’ll be meeting him soon enough.”

  Marge strolled away, lit a cigarette and took a puff while keeping an eye on me.

  When I turned to Jennifer, I saw her huddle toward Sophia. Her face was white as a ghost. She was sick. She needed medical attention, and soon, or she might well die.

  I asked Jennifer, “Have they given you any medication?”

  She shook her head no.

  “Your father, William, is here searching for you.”

  Her expression became animated. “Really? He’s really here?”

  “Of course, and he has been ever since you went missing.”

  She began to cry. “I can’t believe it.”

  William was obviously more concerned with business than his family, but it’s plain to see he put that all aside to search for Jennifer. He was a good man, and I felt more determined than ever to bring the two of them together again – even if I have to die, trying.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I was jarred awake as I was pulled to my feet. Why? I had no idea. I had drifted off to sleep, and I had no clue if it were day or night. I shivered involuntarily, not only from the dampness of the cellar but from full blown terror! More for Sophia and Jennifer than for myself. Lord knows I had my time to live. Although I hadn't ever imagined I would meet my end by the hand of goons led by a thug momma. A family in the business of pure evil, seemingly genetically predisposed to it thanks to a serial rapist and killer for a father, and mother without moral compunction.

  I followed the other women as they climbed the steps, but lost sight of Sophia and Jennifer. I panicked! I would have scaled the steps at a much faster pace, but it wasn't like any of the women ahead of me were in any hurry to meet an uncertain fate.

  When I reached the top, I saw Sophia held fast by a goon. He was touching her... stroking her cheek. My steady hand reached into my pocket, but as I brought the gun nearly out. Marge cuffed the man about the head.

  “No touching, Timothy,” her eyes met mine, “not yet.”

  She smiled a suggestive, leering smile that I felt compelled to rip from her lips. “We need to get moving before the fourth of July fireworks start,” Marge added.

  Relax Aggie, all in good time.

  I pushed the gun back into my pocket, thankful nobody had noticed.

  We made our way through the woods, only flashlights lighting our way, and when w
e emerged from the trees, we stood across from Roy’s Bait Shop. The sight of the place turned my stomach as I thought, isn't this where I started my search? It made me feel both foolish and as if I'd gotten nowhere, just spinning wheels and getting no traction. I reviewed every step of my investigation in my head.

  The wheels inside my head kept spinning, too, and as if reading my mind, Roy popped a glance my way. I couldn’t read his facial expression because it was dark.

  How long had I been asleep? Anthony pushed and prodded us across the road. I hoped someone; anyone would drive by, but no such luck. When the bait shop door closed behind all of us, I felt my heart leap into my throat.

  Standing before me was a dark man, probably Italian with a neck thick as a tree trunk. His gray hair shining in the darkness; I knew it must be Marge's sick-o husband, Bruno, The Hammer – the one they all worked for and feared.

  He flipped on the lights and pointed at me. “You!”

  Oh my God. I trembled and stammered. “I-I think you-you must have me confused with some-someone else.”

  “You are like a cat with nine lives.” His eyes shot to his sons' faces. “You stupid fools! Can’t you do anything right?”

  “Her car was in the driveway,” exclaimed Anthony. “Father, sir, I thought she was home.”

  “Nothing I like worse than a snoopy bitch.”

  I spat at his shoes. Sophia pulled me back, but I felt the blow strike my forehead.

  I dropped to my knees as stars danced before my eyes.

  “Who do we have here?” Bruno asked Sophia.

  “I d-d-don’t know what you mean, sir,” Sophia sheepishly replied.

  Bruno yanked Sophia forward, and I watched him rip Sophia’s dress through blurred vision.

  “Bruno The Hammer has something for you.” He viciously pinched Sophia, and she cried out. He threw her on the counter and lowered his pants, but Sophia kneed him in the groin. He slapped her face and held her down with one hand, and raised his erection toward her innermost parts.

  Bam!

  The Pink Lady .38 to the rescue.

  I shot him right in the crotch. He howled in pain but lunged toward me. His eyes were huge and protruding. As he wrapped his hands about my throat, I unloaded my revolver into him.