ONE TOO MANY - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILE #9

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ONE TOO MANY - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILE #9 Page 7

by Marshall Huffman


  “So now what?” Ben asked.

  I was just about ready to answer when the waitress came. Ben ordered the wine and we decided on a large pepperoni, mushroom, and artichoke pizza.

  “Anyway, right now we are waiting for the lab reports. They are up to their eyeballs in other cases but I intend to have McGregor lean on them tomorrow.”

  “McGregor is a pretty good guy isn’t he?” Dan asked.

  “He has his good and bad days like all of us but when it’s all said and done, I can’t think of anyone I would rather work for,” I replied.

  “Angie. Can I ask you something?”

  “Gee Ben, I don’t know. I guess. I mean, I’ll answer it if I can, okay?”

  “That’s fine. What do you see yourself doing five, ten or fifteen years down the road?”

  I thought for a minute. It was a really good question.

  “I guess,” I said after a time, “I honestly haven’t thought about it much. I kind of take it one day at a time. I seem to always be focused on a case and those you have to take step by step, one day at a time. I kind of go through life like that,” I told him.

  “What about being married? Having kids and all the responsibilities that go with it?” he asked.

  “I don’t know how to answer that. I don’t know if I’m even marriage material. I know nothing about kids. I mean I love the little boogers to death but having one of my own? I really don’t know.”

  “Do you see yourself always working?”

  “I guess so.”

  “What if you didn’t have to? What if you had enough money that you could do other things? Surely you would like to pursue other avenues.”

  “I guess. I think...”

  “Your pizza,” the waitress interrupted.

  Man, saved by the bell. I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going and I was glad for the interruption. We ate pretty much in silence with a smattering of small talk. I know Ben wanted answers to his questions but honestly I would have to really think about how to answer them.

  I hate to admit it but it kind of put a damper on the entire evening. I know I’m no real prize. I’m attractive, but not beautiful, hard headed, focused, and tenacious. I know my biological clock is ticking and I’m not getting any younger. But I wasn’t ready to be a stay at home mom or housewife either. I can’t even cook all that well. What the heck would I do all day? Sit around watching mindless daytime TV and eating frozen yogurt?

  I think Ben’s idea of moving forward in our relationship means marriage and I know I am not at that point yet. Gee, it seems like I just past one crossroad when another crops up.

  “You okay?” Ben asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t sound fine,” he said putting his pizza down.

  “Ben, you asked me some really hard questions. I don’t have answers for them. I can’t just snap off a quick response. I have to think about what you are really asking.”

  “I’m just asking what’s in your future and does it include me,” he said.

  “Oh believe me, I get that part. Do I want you to be part of my future? Absolutely. It’s the rest I need to think about.”

  “Angie, is it so hard to understand that I need to think about my future as well? I’m forty-two. I have to start thinking about where I am going as well.”

  “I know,” was all I said.

  Look, I know I should be knocked into next week for being such a dork. Ben was a good looking man, considerate, caring, successful, well off, and fun to be with. So what is my real problem? I can sum it up in one word. Commitment. Can I make the same commitment to marriage that I do to my job? If I can’t do that, I have no business being married.

  When we were done and walking to the cars Ben said, “You want to come back to my place?”

  “I don’t think this is such a good time Ben. I need to think some things through. You asked some really good questions and deserve answers. I will sleep on it and we can talk again when we have time to sit down and have a real heart to heart.”

  “Angie, I know that I love you. I do want answers. I have to have them for my own peace of mind. Yes, you do need to think it over but please for both our sakes, don’t take too long.”

  Whoa. What is the message there? I decided to let it go for now. I kissed him good night, fired up my Healy and headed home for more wine, a soak in the tub and some heavy thinking. All the way home the last ‘don’t take too long’ kept rattling around in my pea pod brain.

  SIXTEEN

  “That was very stimulating Heather. I’ll bet the crowds go wild when you are out there doing your cheers.”

  “They seem to enjoy it. Of course I have on my outfit so I guess it’s not quite the same.”

  “You don’t seem too bothered by being naked.”

  “Would it help? You have control and I can’t do anything about it can I?”

  “Well you can make your life more pleasant and last longer if you have the right attitude.”

  “If you say so. I don’t know how this will really end. I know you are going to do what you want and I can’t stop you,” Heather replied.

  “That’s a very sophisticated attitude. You know most girls just cry and beg. You seem more mature than the others.”

  “Sophisticated? I don’t know about that but I do know what reality is. The reality is that you kidnapped me, have me naked and will rape me. Probably repeatedly until you become tired of me and then you will either let me live or will kill me. I have to assume you are the same guy that beat, raped, and killed poor Alyssa,” Heather said.

  “My, you are a most interesting young woman.”

  “So, what would it take for you to let me live? I don’t want to die. I have my whole life in front of me and I don’t want it to end here in this dump. You have the mask on. I really don’t know who you are.”

  “Ah. You think if you cooperate I will let you go?”

  “It won’t make any difference in the end if I cooperate or not. You have the control. I just can’t see getting beat to death like Alyssa did.”

  “Oh Alyssa wasn’t beaten to death. Not really. She was still alive when I took her to the golf course.”

  “Whatever. I just want to live and go on with my life.”

  “Show me.”

  “What?’

  “Get on the bed. It’s time to stop talking and start delivering,” he said.

  She walked over to the bed, resigned herself to the fact that she was going to be raped. All that mattered at this point was surviving and waiting to find the right minute to either escape or do whatever it took to remain alive.

  **

  After he had finished with her he brought her food and water.

  “Now that was enjoyable,” he said.

  She didn’t bother to answer but started eating as fast as she could. It was the first food she had had since he abducted her and she was starving and thirsty.

  “Not too fast,” he cautioned her as she sat there still naked.

  “Can I ask you to do something for me?”

  “You can ask. What a strange girl you are. You want me to do something for you? How unusual.”

  “Would you let my parents know that I am still alive? My mom is in really bad health. I’m telling you honestly, this could kill her. Please. All you need to do is let them know I’m still okay.”

  “Heather. Maybe you aren’t as realistic as I thought. I don’t call parents to report on their child. I do as I want.”

  “I realize that but you had a mother. Think about how she would feel,” Heather said.

  “My mother was a slut. I hated her,” he spit out.

  “Mine isn’t. She is a good woman and I have a great father. I’m sorry you didn’t have that but that doesn’t change the fact that mine care. Please let them know. I would...”

  He slapped her across the mouth, knocking the tray, food and glass of water across the room.

  “Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word. Not another word,”
he screamed and hit her again, knocking her back on the bed.

  He started to hit her again but instead of cowering back she just sat there looking at him. He stopped cold.

  “No more talk about it, understand?” he said finally.

  “Alright,” she said and rubbed her mouth where he had hit her.

  He stood up and walked to the door.

  “Don’t make me lose my temper. It is never good,” he said as he turned off the light, went out the door and locked it.

  Heather could hear at least three different locks being engaged. It was pitch black in the room. She got up, crawled around on the floor and found what was left of the sandwich and sat eating it. When she was done she crawled over to the toilet, the only other thing in the room besides the bed.

  The last thing she did before climbing back on the bed was to find the tray. She started making plans for how she could use it as a weapon. He would let his guard down at some point and she would be ready.

  **

  The DA was waiting in the captain’s office when I came in. As usual Dan had yet to arrive. Dan was never late, he just wasn’t early either. I got my usual breakfast and went to see the captain.

  “Morning Bartoni. You know Carl Peters our new DA,” McGregor said.

  “Carl.”

  “Ms. Bartoni.”

  What the hell did that mean? We had met at least ten times before and he always called me Angie.

  “Mr. Peters has some questions about the Miller case.”

  “Questions? It’s pretty cut and dry isn’t it? We caught him with the drugs. He wrote out a full confession. His son wrote out his regarding being an accomplice. What more could you want? Hell, we can even produce the bodies if necessary.”

  “The problem is that you were watching him in the first place. You have been to his house several times. Your actions border on harassment. In fact, you went to his house just that day and talked to his son.”

  “Big deal. He was a suspect. Since when do we need permission to talk to a suspect?”

  “But he wasn’t a suspect according to previous investigations.”

  “The hell he wasn’t,” I said, my temper starting to boil over.

  “Not officially. Yes we have your word about what he said but there is nothing official about it.”

  “Let me tell you something Mr. DA. I got that murderer. He killed seven people. Now if you’re afraid to do your job just tell me right now so I will know if I can count on the DA’s office for justice or not. If you are afraid to prosecute I’m so out of here. I don’t need to deal with a DA who is afraid of his own shadow.”

  “Bartoni,” McGregor’s voice boomed.

  I wasn’t too worried. It was more for show. He knew me well enough to understand how I worked. If he really wanted me to back it down he would have stopped me sooner.

  “I’m just saying...” he stammered.

  “Look Mr. DA. I understand you are new at your job but I’m not. I have worked hard to break this case. Yeah there are some extenuating circumstances and a lot of people are thinking he should have gotten away with it. That’s all well and good. Heck, I hated to nail him in some ways but either we have laws or we write new ones that say it’s okay to use vigilante justice if the circumstances call for it. Right now I enforce the ones we do have. That is your job as well.”

  He looked at me like I had just dropped in from some distant planet. He was probably used to his people bowing down to his power. I had a rude awakening for him. He was on my turf and I’m a bulldog about that.

  “Alright Ms. Bartoni. It will be a bit of a struggle getting around that, just be prepared to defend your actions on the stand because you know the defense will call you.”

  “I’m always ready,” I replied.

  “Then I’m done. Captain McGregor. Ms. Bartoni,” he said getting up and walking out.

  The captain waited until he was sure he was gone.

  “New DAs. They are afraid of every case until they lose one or two. He wants every i dotted and every t crossed. Sorry I yelled at you.”

  “No big deal. I did notice you let me finish before you shut me down,” I said.

  “Did not.”

  “Did too.”

  “Out. Get the kidnapper Bartoni,” he said trying to sound official.

  “On my way sir,” I said, bowing as I got to the door.

  He just put his head down and shook it. He was mumbling something but I didn’t catch it.

  SEVENTEEN

  We were on our way over to the lab to just sort of bug them, you know, the squeaky wheel kind of thing. I figured if I bothered them enough they would do my stuff just to get me out of their hair.

  “Dan, do you ever think about what you will be doing five, ten or more years down the road?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I guess a little. I know I would like to be married and have a family at some point. I don’t know when. I would like to get a solid profession established first.”

  “You have that. You’re a decorated detective.”

  “Well three years isn’t exactly longevity.”

  “So you want a wife and all that stuff?”

  “Yeah, I do. Why? Did good old Ben step on it last night and ask Angie the tough questions?”

  “Knock it off or your career will end right here.”

  “So he did,” Dan said laughing.

  “Yes he did and I don’t have an answer. You are a lot younger so it makes sense that you would want all of that. All I’ve really ever had is my job. I’m not complaining. I love what we do but I’m not getting any younger either.”

  “That’s for sure,” he muttered and I slugged him on the arm.

  “Look Angie, you are a hell of a detective. I mean that in all sincerely but your personal life is the pits. I don’t mean that exactly like that sounds but you have all these rules and when you add in the fact that you are in a high risk, grinding job it makes it harder for someone to get close to you. Not many guys are willing to accept Angie Bartoni the way she is packaged. You see the absolute dregs of society. Your hours are some of the worst in the world and you spend most of it with another person that probably will know more about you than you significant other.”

  “Damn Dan. Did Ben call and ask you to have that speech ready?”

  “It’s true and you know it,” he said.

  “Oh goodie, we are here,” I said.

  “Coward. You are afraid to even talk about this.”

  “Boy, I sure hope they have something for us,” I said pretending to not hear a word he was saying.”

  “You are pathetic,” Dan said getting out and slamming the car door.

  **

  “Oh God, its Bartoni," Link Wilson said when we came in.

  Link. What kind of name is that? I mean who says, ‘I just love the name Link so we will call our son Link’. Come on, how many people with the first name of Link do you know?

  “Hey Link. What’s shakin’?” I asked

  “Bartoni, Dan,” he said acknowledging us.

  “I see. It’s Dan and Bartoni is it?”

  “Dan is a nice guy. You only come here to harass us.”

  “I’m hurt,” I said dropping my head.

  “I wish.”

  “Boy you’re a grumpbutt today. You been hanging out with Sorenson?”

  “Oh no. Sorenson is the king of grump.”

  “He is good at it.”

  “Could we get on with it?” Dan cut in.

  “Well, well, well. Now who is being the grumpbutt?” I said winking at Link.

  “So you want to know about the battery?”

  “That would be peachy.”

  “Help me,” Link said shaking his head.

  He handed me our famous, at least for us, Form A-2114 that was a fingerprint analysis identification report. Of course being a government organization that can live without acronyms we called it a FAIR report.

  “Matthew Perry Baker. 5732 Claymore. Thirty-five years old,” I r
ead off.

  “That’s what the prints say. I ran a PRR on him and he came up clean.

  “Okay, so Mr. Baker has no prior record,” Dan said.

  “Seems like.”

  “I guess he could have tossed it away for a thousand reasons. Could have dropped his phone. Things like that happen,” I said.

  “We did test it. It’s still good so if he tossed it there was nothing wrong with it. Of course I guess he could have changed phones and didn’t need it anymore,” Link offered.

  “True,” Dan said.

  “Thanks Link. I owe you one,” I replied.

  He laughed, “One? You owe me a million if not more.”

  “Well that’s why I always come to you. You’re the absolute best.”

  “Bartoni you are so full of it.”

  “Hey, I’m serious. You are.”

  “I’m the easiest one here is the real reason.”

  “See Dan, I try to be nice and this is what happens”

  “You and the word nice in the same sentence does not compute,” Dan replied.

  “How very nice. I can get this kind of treatment from McGregor or Sorenson. I’m leaving,” replied.

  **

  Back at the car Dan said, “Off to talk to this Matt Baker guy?”

  “No time like the present. You drive I’ll punch the address into the GPS.”

  Then out of the blue Dan asked, “Did Ben ask you to marry him?”

  “What? Where did that come from?”

  “You. Your questions actually. It’s pretty obvious that something made you start thinking about your future.”

  “Give me a break. Don’t you think I am capable of thinking about those issues myself?”

  “Yes you are but you didn’t. Ben shook you up.”

  Damn him. No wonder I had never liked having a partner. Just like all relationships he was starting to get too close and that never worked well for me.

  “Look Dan, this is something I need to think through. Forget I asked, okay?”

  “Sure, if you want to keep it bottled up inside that’s fine with me,” he said.

  I didn’t reply. I just looked out the window and listened to the twit in the GPS tell us to turn this way and that way with the occasional ‘recalculating’ thrown in for good measure.

 

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