VANISHING ACT - Angie Bartoni Case File # 11: Angie Bartoni Case File # 11 (Angie Bartoni Case Files)

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VANISHING ACT - Angie Bartoni Case File # 11: Angie Bartoni Case File # 11 (Angie Bartoni Case Files) Page 9

by Marshall Huffman


  Okay Angie. You can do this. I started rocking, throwing my weight forward and then back. At first nothing happened but then, a little at a time, the chair started to tip but not enough. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t get it to go over.

  New game plan. Tip it from side to side. Maybe that way I could keep from hitting my head if I was lucky. Once again, it started rocking, this time from side to side. The results were much better and it wasn’t long before I hit the point of no return and went crashing over on my left side. I tried to keep my face from hitting the floor but I still managed to knock myself for a loop. I shook my head. It hurt like the dickens.

  Okay, now I’m here, so what? I tried to scoot toward a sink in the corner. It was taking every bit of strength I had just to make it a few inches. I stopped several times but then all I had to do was think about Donner coming back and finishing me off. It was the inspiration I needed to keep going.

  I don’t know how long I worked at it but it seemed like hours. I was expecting Donner to get home and find me before I made it to the sink. Somehow I finally managed to get there. I placed the duct tape that was around my wrist against the edge of the sink and started trying to rub it back and forth.

  It was incredibly slow going. I could only raise the chair a few inches and then let it fall back down. Each time it cut into my skin as well as the duct tape. In fact, my skin was giving out faster than the tape. Finally, I could see progress. It spurred me on to move faster. The pain in my wrist was intense but it was better than the alternative.

  I finally cut through enough to get my wrist free. I reached over and started trying to get the other side off. It wasn’t easy. I had to find the end of the tape and unwrap. I couldn’t just rip it off.

  With both hands free I was able to get my feet undone in relatively short time. I was exhausted but I managed to get to my knees. Now all I had to do was figure out a way to get out of here and get help. I went up the basement steps and found the door. Of course it was locked.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Have you seen Detective Bartoni?” the captain asked when he came out of his office, “I’ve tried to call her three times.”

  Dan had just been wondering the same thing. He never beat her in and it was already going on 8:45 a.m. which just didn’t happen unless she called or told someone ahead of time.

  “No, and frankly I’m concerned. I tried to call her myself a couple of times.”

  “I’m kind of worried. Why don’t you take a run over to her house and see if everything looks right,” McGregor said.

  “On it,” Dan said heading to the patrol car.

  He used the siren which was not really allowed by department rules but at this point in time he didn’t really care. He pulled in her driveway fifteen minutes later and ran up to the door and knocked. No answer.

  He started to run around to the back of the house and stopped mid-stride. A gallon of milk lay spilled and a bag of groceries were on the ground. The door to the Austin Healy was still standing open and the keys were on the ground.

  He pulled out his cell phone and called McGregor.

  “Captain. It doesn’t look good. Her car is here with the door open. Her keys are on the ground along with some groceries. Something bad has happened.”

  “Stay there. I’ll have back-up sent. Don’t do anything until I get there. No hero stuff, understand?”

  “Okay captain, but hurry,” Dan said running up to the back door and trying the door handle.

  It was locked. He tried to look in the window but didn’t see anything unusual. All he could do was wait and pace until back-up and the captain arrived.

  It seemed forever before the first car came racing up the street. Within minutes a half a dozen cars were blocking the street and policemen spilling out. A few seconds later the captain drove up.

  “Show me what you have,” he said to Dan.

  Dan took him to where the Healey sat and showed him what he had found.

  “You’re right. She has been abducted. Let’s go in and see if we can find anything,” McGregor told him.

  They stationed the other patrolmen then went up to the front door. Dan hated to do it but he had no choice, he kicked the door in and they rushed inside. They went from room to room and found nothing. It was apparent that she never made it into the house.

  “I’ve already got out an all points on her,” McGregor said.

  “Who would take her? It could be random I guess but why take her. If they wanted to hurt her why not just do it right here?” Dan asked.

  “They wanted to let her know what it was all about. This was done by someone for payback,” the captain said.

  “Milliken?”

  “That’s a good place to start. Anyone else you can think of?” the captain asked.

  “Detective Donner. He was pretty upset over the whole thing.”

  “He is a cop Roberts. Cops don’t do this kind of thing. They tend to sneak around and get even,” McGregor insisted.

  “I think we need to look at both possibilities,” Dan insisted.

  “Alright. You take some officers with you and go see Milliken. I’ll take the rest and head to Donner’s station and talk to him and the captain.”

  “Okay, but hurry, please. She has been missing since last night,” Dan said.

  “We will get her back,” McGregor replied.

  ***

  Dan found Milliken still in bed. He had been sick for the last two days and hadn’t left the house. Dan basically told him he didn’t give a damn and wanted to search the house. Ed was militant until Dan told him what it was all about and that he would be considered a suspect and they would tear the place apart.

  He agreed to let Dan go through the house. He checked every nook and cranny and found nothing that indicated that Angie was there or had been there. Finally he gave up and called the captain.

  “I just left the precinct. Donner was late for his shift and they had to send someone to get him. He is gone now and just headed home. I’m on my way there,” McGregor told him.

  “Where does he live?”

  McGregor gave him the address and told him to send for back up just in case they were needed.

  ***

  Donner had worked all night but his mind was on anything but the job. He was counting the minutes until he could get out of the station and get back home and finish off Bartoni.

  He had confiscated a .22 Walther with a threaded barrel from a banger and this would be the perfect time to use it. Getting the silencer had been a piece of cake. He had gone into the evidence room and took one from an earlier case he had worked.

  He couldn’t decide if he was going to just shoot her or make it last a while. Maybe he would shoot her in the kneecaps and elbows. Let her really know what it was like to be in pain before he finally finished her off.

  He had spent most of his shift fantasizing about how it would feel to finally get rid of Detective Angie Bartoni.

  ***

  I had gone up the stairs but found that the door was locked. Standing on the steps I had tried to kick the door in but all I did was hurt my foot and almost fall down the stairs. There was no way I was going to be able to force the door.

  I was standing with my head leaning against the door after giving it one more try when I heard the car pull into the driveway. Now what? I thought about just waiting for him to open the door and trying to surprise him by jumping him but realized that was never going to work. All he would have to do was give me a shove and I would tumble down the stairs.

  Think Angie, you don’t have much time. I ran back down the stairs, grabbed the chair and hid under the stairs. It was fairly dark and with any luck I would get one chance at trying to survive.

  I heard the door open and close then footsteps. He was most likely in the kitchen. I waited but nothing happened. What the heck was he doing? Toying with me? He had to know I could hear him moving around. My nerves were about ready to jump out of my body when I heard a key rattle in the l
ock then the ‘click’. A burst of light came down the stairs. I hadn’t counted on that. Still, I had no other options but to play my hand. I waited.

  “Oh Angie,” I heard his call, “I’m back,” he said and started laughing.

  What a nut case. I held my breath, afraid to even shake, in case it caught his eye. I heard him start down the stairs. Clomp, clomp, clomp came his footsteps.

  “Angie, guess what time it is? Nope, not Howdy Doodie Time. It’s time to end the meddling detective time,” he said as he hit the last step.

  I heard him stop and a small gasp escape his lips. It was now or never. I came out from behind the stairs and swung the chair as hard as I could. He must have caught the movement because he put up his arm. The chair landed with enough force to knock him back. Before he could recover I swung it again with all my strength. This time it landed better, catching his shoulder and part of his head.

  I heard him let out a yell and try to spin around and aim the gun he had in his hand at me. I ran at him and jabbed the leg of the chair into his chest causing him to scream out and try to grapple the chair from my hands. I knew if he did that it would be all over for me.

  I pulled it back just enough to bring it up, hitting him under the chin. His head snapped back and the gun skittered from his hand. He tried to grab the leg of the chair but I held on. He was dazed and I knew I had to take advantage of that right now or it would be all over. I couldn’t match his physical strength. I finally twisted it enough to get it out of his grasp.

  He dropped to his hands and knees and went crawling toward the gun. I raised the chair and smashed it down as hard as I possibly could across his back. He fell flat on his stomach. The chair shattered and I was left holding a piece with a point on the end of it. He was crawling on his belly and was reaching for the gun when I brought the pointed end down on his hand pinning it to the floor. He screamed and tried to remove it with his other hand but I was putting all my weight behind it. I knew if he got his hand out, he would get the gun and shoot me.

  I was quickly running out of strength. I realized my mistake. I should have stabbed him in the back rather than the hand but it was too late.

  I was totally spent and I knew I couldn’t hang on any longer. I was starting to see stars and I knew I was going to black out. The only saving grace was that at least I wouldn’t know it when he finished me off.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  It was all very surreal. I was looking into the eyes of Captain McGregor. It wasn’t making the least bit of sense. The last thing I remember was my knees starting to give out and then everything getting dark. What happened after that is a total blur.

  “Hey tiger. That was some fight you put up,” he said but his voice sounded so far away. It was kind of like an echo.

  “Easy. You are getting ready to be transported to the hospital. They gave you something for pain. Just relax. We will see you when we finish up here,” he said.

  I wanted to ask ‘finish up where’ and just what the heck was going on but it started getting dark again and I didn’t bother to try to fight it.

  I have no clue about how long I was out of it. I remember waking up and it was dark. I was obviously in the hospital but that was all I knew. I didn’t seem to hurt all that much but from the light headiness, I figured I was getting some pretty good drugs. I vaguely remember people coming and going. Usually they were poking and prodding me but other than that, I remember virtually nothing.

  I have a real aversion to hospitals but this one time I just let it all flow. I didn’t even feel like fighting it.

  When I came to the next time, a young doctor was looking into my eyes.

  “Hey, welcome home.”

  “What’s happening?”

  “You took a pretty good beating. You had a serious concussion. We had to put you into induced coma until the swelling went down.”

  “Coma? You mean I’ve been in a state of coma?” I asked, shocked.

  “We did it as a safety precaution. You had swelling of the brain caused by the treatment you received. We have had you under, using thiopental. You were responding positively so we have slowly brought you back out of it,” he said.

  “I can’t believe this. I’ve had rougher treatment in the line of duty.”

  “It doesn’t always work that way. Where you get hit is just as important. You have a good size lump on the side of your head.”

  “I guess when I tipped the chair over,” I said but he didn’t really know what I meant.

  “Anyway, you look much better. A good deal of the swelling has gone down but the bruising is going to take a little longer. Your black eyes will take a while to look normal again.”

  “Black eyes, concussion, bruising. Any other good news?”

  “The stiches can come out at any time,” he said and smiled.

  Stitches. Isn’t that just special? On top of everything else.

  “How are you feeling with a scale of 0 being no pain to 10 being unbearable?”

  “How about stepping on a Lego in the middle of the night?”

  “That bad?”

  “Naw, just kidding. Not too bad. Maybe four or five. Nothing I can’t live with.”

  “No need to live with any of it,” he said adjusting the flow of fluid going into my vein.

  A couple of minutes later I was gone again. Geez, I could get used to this; I thought as I drifted off.

  ***

  “Okay slacker,” I heard Dan say as he shook my foot.

  I let out a loud yell and he pulled back in horror.

  “Angie, I’m sorry. I didn…”

  I was laughing at this point and it was starting to sink in that I was yanking his chain.

  “You are rotten; do you realize that?”

  “You bet. Proud of it.”

  “So, how are you feeling?”

  “Pretty good. My ears are still ringing and my ear still burns like it is on fire but other than that, I feel pretty good.”

  “Have you looked in a mirror yet?” he asked.

  “No. I’ve been afraid to. From what the doctor said it isn’t very pretty.”

  “Donner did a good number on you. Hey, want to hear his first story?”

  “Donner’s?”

  “Yeah. His first try was to say that you broke into his house and attacked him and he had to fight you off. When that didn’t fly he tried to say you set it up to make it look like he kidnapped you, but in reality you grabbed him.”

  “Man, I’m tougher than I thought.”

  “Actually, you are a lot tougher than he thought. That was his biggest mistake.”

  “What is really happening now?”

  “He is being charged with so many counts it will take a calculator to figure them all out. He will never see the sun again outside of the prison walls,” Dan told me.

  “Can’t say that bothers me. He should have just let it go. He had already won. There was nothing we could do about it,” I told him.

  “Some people just can’t do that. He is obviously one of those people.”

  “When do I get out of here?” I asked.

  “I’m a detective not a doctor, twit.”

  “You are only getting away with saying that because I can’t get up,” I warned.

  “Gotta’ get them in when you can.”

  “How about you make yourself useful and go see if you can find out when I am going to be released,” I said.

  “You know they aren’t going to tell me anything,” Dan protested.

  He was probably right but I was pretty sure that he would find some attractive nurse and smooze her until he could get the answer. As it turned out, the doctor came in just as Dan was on his quest to find someone.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore, but other than that pretty good.”

  “How is the headache?”

  “Manageable,” I told him.

  “I’m sure. I have your medical history. Shot with an arrow, jumped out of a burning building still strappe
d to a chair, concussion from a bomb blast. Each time you wanted to be released before the doctor thought you should,” he said, scolding more than just telling me.

  “What can I say, I don’t like hospitals.”

  “Then you had better like this one. You still have some slight swelling and it wouldn’t take much to put in here for good. You want to take the chance of becoming a vegetable, go ahead and discharge yourself.”

  “That’s a tad harsh on a poor injured officer of the law.”

  “Ha. You aren’t going to get me on that. I read every page in your file. You can save that for someone else. You are staying here if I have to put security on the door.”

  “Yes sir, doctor sir,” I said saluting.

  “Damn right,” he said shutting off his iPad and adjusting the drip on my IV.

  He was going to ensure that I didn’t try to leave. It worked. I was out in seconds.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I was trapped in that darn hospital for three more days. I did a little happy dance when I was told I could finally leave. I was wheeled down to the entrance and Dan was there to pick me up. I knew I looked like hell. I had taken a peek in the mirror when I was dressing.

  The left side on my face was purple, green, and yellow. Both eyes were still pretty much dark purplishly black. My stitches were out but I could see the red dots where they had been. I looked like death warned over.

  “How you doing sport?” Dan asked as I eased my butt into the passenger seat.

  “Just peachy. Why? Don’t I look it?” I asked.

  “No. You look like you are still in pain.”

  “Just a little discomfort when I breathe and things like that.”

  “You know you are going to be doing nothing but desk work for a while so you might as well prepare yourself for it right now. McGregor isn’t about to let you back out on the streets until you are totally healed. He had a long talk with the doctor and was pretty worried about your condition. Don’t even try to argue with him or he will not even let you come back to work,” Dan warned me.

 

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