Payback (Angie Bartoni Case Files Book 13)

by Marshall Huffman

  “But you wouldn’t sell it or trade it, right?”

  “You got that right,” I said as we got in and buckled up.

  I turned the key and the engine immediately started and purred for me. I think it was showing off. One thing about the Healey, there is always enough leg room even for the tallest person.

  It only took fifteen minutes to get to the English Pub. I was surprised to find at least thirty or more English cars all parked in a row.

  “You here for the show?” a guy who was directing cars asked.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Hey it is just to show your car. It’s not judged or anything. It’s a cruise-in. People just walk around and look at the cars.”

  “Go on, do it,” Garrett said.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What could it hurt? Yours looks better than the majority of the cars. What do you have to lose?”

  I shrugged, “Nothing I guess,” I said and went to the place I was directed.

  All the cars were backed in so I did the same. They left plenty of room in between the cars. I guess dings were a serious breach of etiquette. Immediately several men came over and started ogling the car. I swear, naked women, cars, and food are the only things that really get a man’s testosterone flowing. Everything else just doesn’t matter.

  After a few minutes of explaining the year and details of the car we went inside to eat. The interior was supposed to represent an English Pub. It didn’t quite get the job done but I guess it was close enough. Put a couple English beers on tap, throw up a British flag, a few pictures, and everyone is happy.

  Garrett got us a booth and we sat down. I decided I had better stick with iced tea rather than alcohol. After all, I did have to drive home.

  We sat and talked, actually he did most of the talking. I just listened and only answered when he asked me a direct question. I ordered the Prime-Rib sandwich with onion rings. Garrett got the Nachos Grandé and a Corona with lime.

  “This case is really bugging you,” he said between bites.

  “Big time.”

  “I heard you were like that?’

  “What?” I asked.

  “Tenacious.”

  “My boss calls it bullheaded.”

  “Well, there is that term too,” he said dribbling cheese down the front of his shirt.

  Holy smokes, he ate just like Dan. I would hate to see them together eating something like ribs. No one in the place would be safe.

  “I’m kind of like that too. I find I have to just step away from the case for a few hours then come back. If I try to force it, I don’t get very far,” he told me.

  “I know I should do that as well but it is so hard for me to walk away. I always think I’ll get it if I just give it one more minute.”

  “You know. I think you are dead on about outside help. It is the only thing that makes sense. The shooter had to know their route. He doesn’t just set up and hope they will come along. There is way too much risk in that,” Garrett said.

  “If someone is helping them, they have to have access to the postings.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And that is limited to only a few people,” I said.

  “More than you think. The Sargent makes it out but lots of people see it after that. Anyone who walks into the locker rooms can get the information. On top of that, you have secretaries, excuse me, executive assistants, that see it and who knows how many others.”

  “So it could be anyone,” I said digging into my sandwich.

  I have to say, it was really good. I wasn’t so sure when it first arrived. I figured it would be overdone but it wasn’t. It was medium-rare, just like I had ordered it. The onion rings were to die for, big fat ones with lots of breading.

  “Any ideas on how to narrow it down?” I asked.

  “Maybe. I’m thinking we could put a camera in the locker rooms and the briefing room and watch who doesn’t belong there looking at it.”

  “No way. You will never get permission to put cameras in the locker rooms. Maybe that could have been done at one time but not in today’s world,” I told him.

  “You’re probably right. I can’t see having someone just hanging around there either, besides it could be anyone doing it.”

  “So basically we have a pretty good idea but no way to implement it,” I said sighing.

  I sat eating and thinking. Brooding is more like it. I just couldn’t wrap my mind around another cop being involved, a secretary maybe, but not another cop. I finished off my sandwich but left a few onion rings. I could see Garrett eyeballing them.

  “Want the rest of my onion rings?”

  “You’re not going to eat them?”

  “I’m stuffed.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Take them,” I said holding the plate over to him.

  This guy was just like Dan. The onion rings disappeared so fast I doubt Houdini could have done a better job. How do men do that? They just open their mouths and everything within a ten foot span gets sucked in like it was a black hole.

  Garrett tried to insist on paying the bill but I objected. I didn’t want to feel obligated.

  “I’ll pay for my own,” I said.

  “Come on, I asked you to dinner.”

  “You did not ask me to dinner. You asked me if I wanted to go grab something to eat. That is not the same thing,” I argued.

  “I swear, you are the most stubborn woman,” he grumbled.

  “Tenacious,” I said.

  “Your boss said bullheaded,” he reminded me.

  I drove him back to the station so he could pick up his car. We were relatively quiet on the way back.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” I finally said, “I’m just used to doing my own thing. I don’t let Dan pay for me unless he has screwed up big time and owes me,” I said.

  Why did I even say that? What brought that on? I didn’t owe him an explanation.

  “It’s okay. Everyone told me you were fiercely independent.”

  “I am…wait, who said that?”

  “Just about everyone I talked to.”

  “You asked about me?” I said.

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, if I was going to work with you, I wanted to know what kind of a person you are. What you see is not always what you get,” he explained.

  “Well it is with me. I don’t put on fronts for anyone. I am just what I am. That’s one thing that drives McGregor up the wall,” I told him.

  “He did mention that.”

  “Oh he did.”

  “And a few other things.”

  “So McGregor ratted me out to you as well.”

  “Not ratted you out, he just brought me up to speed.”

  “That’s just swell. Anything else I should know about me?”

  “You don’t date cops or married men. That’s why you asked me if I was married.”

  “You got that right bub. Those are totally against Angie’s rules.”

  “I’m not a cop nor married,” he said.

  Oh hell, now what?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  As usual I was the first one in. After I dropped Garrett off at his car last night, I went straight home and drank half a bottle of Merlot. I was still trying to figure out what he meant by that last statement. I’m not stupid but still, it left a lot of room for interpretation.

  The phone rang and I answered it. Lance from CSI was calling.

  “We found the boat. Johnson was right. It came from the boat ramp. He just left it there.”

  “Who is Johnson?” I asked.

  “Doctor Phil Johnson, the guy who saved Jane Wilkerson.”

  “Okay. So you found the boat, get anything useful off of it?”

  “We are still going over it. We just hauled it in an hour ago. I’ll let you know what we find. I just wanted to give you a head’s up.”

  “Thanks Lance,” I replied and hung up.

 
About that time Dan came in, grunted and went to get his morning cup of Joe. He came back a little later and plopped down as usual.

  “Lance said they found the boat. They are going over it right now.”

  “Won’t find anything,” he grumbled.

  “It’s better than a sharp stick in the eye. You never know, we may get lucky,” I said.

  “Yeah, sure we will.”

  “My, my, someone is sure fun to be around today. I take it your romance with Paula is not progressing very well.”

  “She presented me with a list of demands; changes I need to make if we were going to continue seeing one another,” he said, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling.

  “And?”

  “And what? Hell no, I’m not about to be told how I can and can’t live. If I give in now, she will just think she can make new demands anytime it suits her.”

  “So you broke it off?” I asked.

  “I didn’t have a choice. Angie, I’m not about to have someone tell me what I had better do to have a relationship with them. Yeah, I told her to take a hike,” he said.

  “And she said?”

  “Fine with her.”

  “So you move on.”

  “Yeah, but I’m not happy about it. I really like Paula. She is the first girl I have ever thought about having a permanent relationship with.”

  “It’s better that you found out now rather than later I suppose,” I told him.

  “I guess, but it still bothers me.”

  “You’ll bounce back,” I told him.

  “Who will bounce back?” Garrett asked coming up the stairs.

  “My main man, Dan. They split last night and Dan is bummed out by it,” I told him.

  “Can’t say I blame him. She seemed like a nice lady,” he said.

  “You knew her?” I asked.

  “Met her a few times. She traveled in the same circle I was in for a while then just dropped out. She seemed nice enough,” Garrett told me.

  It is a small world indeed, I thought.

  ***

  Maynard Jones, head of the SWAT team, walked over to talk to the detective in charge.

  “You’re in charge?” he said.

  “I am.”

  “What do you have here?”

  “We are not really sure. We got an anonyms tip that a man had forced his way in the house where a lady and her young son resided.”

  “Have you tried contacting them?”

  “Several times. We get nothing.”

  “And you called on the phone as well?”

  “Of course.”

  “So you don’t really know if they are actually in there,” Jones said.

  “It could be a hoax.”

  “Do you want us to see if we can find out if someone is inside?”

  “I don’t see how it could hurt. I would hate to waste all this manpower if it isn’t real.”

  “Alright. I’ll have my men put listening devices on the windows and try to get a camera inside if possible. Then we will know what we are up against,” Jones told him.

  “Be my guest.”

  Jones walked back over to his men.

  “Martin and Wright, listening devices on as many windows as you can. Go easy. If you feel it isn’t safe, skip that window. Franklin and Berra, see if you can find a place to slip a camera inside. Same thing for you guys. Safety first,” he told them.

  The two teams immediately went to work. They scurried around the corner of the house and dropped down. Martin and Wright set about putting listening devices on the windows. They picked up the minute vibrations in the glass and amplified it so you could hear what a person was saying.

  Twenty minutes later the four men were back.

  “We got listening devices on almost all of the windows on the first floor,” Martin told him.

  “We couldn’t do squat. They have weather strips down and there is no way to get the camera under the door.”

  “Okay. Could you see inside?”

  “I took a quick peek but didn’t see anything,” Barra replied.

  “I’m headed to see if we can hear anything,” he told them and headed for the SWAT truck.

  When he got inside he put the headphones on and started moving the dial. Each device was numbered and labeled. When he got to the fourth device he finally picked up a voice.

  “Just keep quiet and no one will get hurt.”

  A kid whimpered and another voice said, “Just take the money and go. You can take my car.”

  “I said shut up,” the voice snapped.

  According to the label they were in the back bedroom. That made it harder for the SWAT team to get to the woman and child before he could harm them.

  He went back out and gathered his team around.

  “Okay, listen up. It appears to be what was reported. I heard a man and what sounded like a woman along with the whimpering of a kid. They are in the back bedroom. He sounds shaky. I don’t know how much longer we have. He obviously knows we are out here. I am going to let our negotiator talk to him and see if we can resolve this without a fight but in the meantime, someone get the house layout just in case we have to go in.”

  When Jones was finished giving instructions to his men, he went over to the detective in charge.

  “You are?”

  “Detective Stillwell.”

  “Detective, I would like to have our negotiator talk to the people inside if you wouldn’t object.”

  “Does this mean I would be turning the situation over to SWAT.”

  “Is that what you want to do?”

  “Hell yes. It’s all yours as far as I am concerned,” Stillwell said.

  Jones was slightly shocked. Usually the detective on the scene hates to hand the situation over to the SWAT unit.

  “Alright detective, we now have command of the situation,” Jones said.

  “Good luck,” Stillwell replied and headed off to sit in his squad car.

  That guy had no business being a detective, Jones thought but right now he had bigger fish to fry.

  ***

  They were quite a contrasting pair standing there. Jones was six-three and pushing three-hundred pounds. He looked like a pro-football player with hands that looked like they could crush you. The negotiator, Jake Raymond, was just a little over five four and probably weighted in at one hundred and forty pounds, dripping wet. Jake had small pale hands and looked like he should be sitting behind the desk of some CPA firm.

  Jake Raymond was considered the best negotiator the city had ever had. If he couldn’t talk someone out of the situation, it just simply couldn’t be done. Jake and Maynard walked out into the street. Jake used a bullhorn to call the people in the house.

  “This is the IPD and I am talking to the person holding Bonny and Timmy Lane in the house. I am the negotiator and I am here to see if we can defuse this situation. So far you have done nothing serious and I would like to keep it that way. Bonny and Timmy hold no hard feelings against you and if you will tell me what you want, I will do everything in my power to see that you get it.”

  Nothing happened as they waited in the hot sun.

  “He isn’t going to come out,” Maynard whispered.

  “Just hold on,” he said and put the bullhorn back up to his mouth, “Please open a dialogue with me. I can assure your safety if you will only talk to me. I’m asking you not to let this escalate to a situation where the SWAT team is called in. You have done nothing serious to this point. Let’s end this before someone gets hurt.”

  Again they waited and not a sound came from the house.

  “He isn’t going to talk to you,” Maynard said.

  “We have to give it time. He needs to think it over. Once he sees this is the only way out he will talk to us.”

  “He isn’t going to give up,” Maynard insisted.

  “Listen to me,” Jake said, using the bullhorn, “I need to hear from you. I want to help but you have to meet me part way. Not even half way. I just want to
know who I am talking to. I’m sure Bonny and Timmy would like to know as well,” he said, trying to associate their names with the faces to make them more real to the man.

  “Please understand that you have control of what happens here. All I can do is help you get what you want. Just talk to me,” Jake pleaded.

  “I want Maynard Jones,” a faint voice said from inside.

  Jones froze and turned back toward the house. The first bullet hit Jones in the right knee. He went down on his left side clutching his leg. The second shot hit his hip bone, tearing through muscle, cartilage, and ligaments. The projectile bounced off the bone, severing his spinal cord. The third shot slammed into his right elbow.

  Everyone was scrambling around and the signal to breech the house was given. The SWAT team kicked in the front and rear doors and rushed inside the house. Teargas and flash-bangs were thrown into rooms.

  Everyone waited but no shots were fired. EMTs had already rushed to the downed SWAT team leader. They immediately worked to stabilize him and stop the flow of blood. The damage to his knee, hip, and elbow was massive. Within minutes they had him in the back of the ambulance and on his way to the hospital.

  A few minutes later the SWAT team came back out but they had no one with them.

  “What happened?” the assistant team leader asked.

  “There was no one in the house.”

  “What? What are you talking about? We heard voices and someone sure the hell yelled Jackson’s name.”

  “No. It was a relay setup. There was a phone by a microphone and amplifier that sent the message through two speakers, nothing fancy. The voice was probably the shooter who had to be someplace over in one of those buildings,” he said pointing to an industrial complex with ten tall buildings.

  “Then get a team over there and start looking. I’ll call CSI and let them know. You’re saying this was a total setup?”

  “That’s the way it looks to me,”

  “Son-of-a-gun,” the assistant said shaking his head as he went off to call in the CSI team.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN