WHAT GOES AROUND - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILE #4 (ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILES Book 1)

by Marshall Huffman

  “Damn,” she heard him say and he closed the door and went off someplace.

  She could hear him pulling on the starter of the generator. Finally it came to life and the lights flickered on. It was such a simple thing but she felt better than being cold and in the dark. The elements on the heater started to glow and she willed the warmth into her bruised and battered body.

  Of course there were downsides to having the light on. Her two friends were hanging upside down, dead and she would have to look at the evil bastard again.

  “So girl, how are you doing this fine night?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

  “Very well, sir.”

  “Good. Good. Nothing like a nice rainy night to make you get into the mood, don’t you agree?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Excellent. You are doing very well this evening. I think you learned a lesson from your friend's demise,” he said standing in front of her and looking her in the eyes.

  She made sure she just looked back at him. She had to show no hate or he would beat her again and she didn’t know how many more times she could endure it.

  “It’s just a tad chilly in here don’t you think?” he asked.

  “Yes sir.”

  “Me too. You need to do something to warm you up a little.”

  He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked the clasp around her neck. Then he unshackled her hands.

  “Put your wrists together,” he ordered.

  She immediately complied. He took a plastic tie wrap and placed it tightly around her wrists. Then he unshackled her ankles.

  “Over here,” he said.

  She quickly went to where he was pointing.

  “You need to warm up some. I want you to start running in place until I tell you to stop. Understand?”

  “Yes sir,” she answered immediately.

  “Well stupid, start running,” he yelled at her.

  She immediately started running in place. The ground was cold and hurt the blistered and beaten soles of her feet but she knew she had to run. Now it was a matter of clearing her mind and running as long as she could or until he got tired of watching her and came up with something else.

  She ran and ran but her body ached with each heartbeat. Suddenly she felt a painful sting on her back.

  “Pick up the pace. I’m not getting warm,” he shouted hitting her with a knotted rope across her shoulders.

  She grimaced but knew if she yelled out he would only fly into a rage and keep beating her. Her only choice was to keep running. Tears ran down her face but she refused to let a sound escape her lips.

  Eventually he became tired of watching her run and decided that he would just use her and go back to sleep in his van. It had everything he needed there.

  When he was finished with her he shackled her back against the wall, closed and locked the door. A few minutes later the lights and heater were gone as well as he shut down the generator. She was back in the dark, cold and alone again.

  She had to find a way to escape and soon or she would end up like her friends. She didn’t have much strength left. Sometime during the middle of the night she came up with a plan. It would take some luck but what other options did she have?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The news media smelled blood in the water. It was ours. They were swarming in pods or whatever the hell you call a group of vicious predators. I will give them credit for making it seem as if we were all inept and not singling out one person or group. According the them we had been doing nothing.

  To be truthful, the FBI took the biggest hit. I guess I was still considered ‘ept’ instead of inept. Is ept even a word? Probably not. I just liked the sound of it. Now when the press gets on their horse it makes the Mayor very unhappy, which makes the Commissioner very unhappy. That in turn puts heat on the captain which ultimately causes us living hell.

  That’s where we were at the moment. Everyone wanted answers. What? Did they think we wouldn’t give them to them if we had them? Now I know a lot of it is for show but still it only adds to the stress at our level.

  We were sitting around the conference table going over the names on the list from the church. They didn’t have phone numbers by most of them. Only a couple had scrawled something in. None listed an address. Can’t say I blame them. We had a list of nine men’s names that were there during the general time. None of them were listed more than three times. It seems Mrs. Laughton knows what she is talking about.

  “How is it going,” McGregor asked, sticking his head in the conference room.

  “We are working on the list of names we got from the church,” I replied.

  “Any luck?”

  “It takes time.”

  “We don’t have an abundance of that right now,” he said and disappeared.

  Yeah, right. Like we are here just shooting the bull. While we were working on this list, Ned, Cindy, and Marsha were calling the other places that offered support groups in the areas around where the other murders had taken place. That wasn’t easy. Especially the ones in Ohio. They were smaller towns and it took a lot of calls to even find someone that knew they existed.

  Dan was off running the names we had through the computer for prior arrests. So far only one name had popped up but it was for a DUI, nothing major.

  A few minutes later Dan came back in all excited.

  “This guy,” he said pointing at the name.

  “Calvin Bingham. He just popped up. Assault, battery, resisting arrest, battery on a police officer. It was his third arrest for similar offences,” he said laying his sheet on the table.

  We all gathered around to look at it reading between the lines. We all knew the report only told half of the story. Getting kicked, spit on and called racial slurs weren’t even noteworthy. Just reading it we all knew we were looking at a real hot head. He didn’t feel right for this but we had to check it out. Usually someone that is willing to take the leap to killing another person uses a ball bat, knife or gun at some point. None of that was showing up.

  “Why don’t you guys keep going on the list and Dan and I can go check this guy out.”

  “You should have backup.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary. We’ll be careful and if it looks serious we will call it in immediately and just wait,” I told him.

  “It’s your call,” Brad said.

  “Dan?”

  “Let’s do it. I’m tired of just sitting around.”

  **

  On the way over to the guy’s house we talked about how we were going to handle Mr. Bingham.

  “I think I should be the one that goes to the door,” Dan said.

  “Why?”

  “Assault seems to be his big thing. I’ll drop him like a pancake if he even looks like he is going to take a run at me,” he replied.

  I had to admit, there was a certain logic to what he was saying. The simple fact that he makes two of me being the most persuasive element. Hey, I could be the hero next time so I agreed. I would take the back and he would go to the front.

  It never fails. Whenever we go looking for someone it is almost always in some nasty area. I hate that part. As we had planned, I went around back and Dan went up to the front door. I waited and waited. Nothing seemed to be happening.

  Pretty soon Dan came around to the back of the house.

  “You might want to come give me a hand,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Just give me a hand will you?”

  When we got back around to the front our friend Mr. Calvin Bingham was lying on his back, half in and half out of the front door. A baseball bat was at the bottom of the steps.

  “What happened?”

  “Let’s just say, I’m glad I went to the front door instead of you.”

  The guy was pretty big and it was a struggle to get him in the car.

  “I take it he came at you?”

  “I didn’t even have time to get the words out of my mouth before he took a
swing at me with the bat. I ducked just in time. While he was getting ready for a line drive I got in a couple of quick shots. He had a glass jaw. He went down like a ton of bricks. One of those big tough guys with women and having a weapon in his hand,” Dan said.

  “You think this is our guy?”

  “No way. Anyone that stupid couldn’t have set this all up. The guy we are looking for is smart. This guy is too dumb to make Kool Aid without instructions.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  When we got Calvin back to the station he was still groggy. Dan had popped him a pretty good lick. We put him in the interview room and decided Marsha should be the one to talk to him. We just wanted to see if he met the profile in any way.

  “I’m not used to interviewing,” she replied when I suggested it.

  “Look, you don’t have to get a confession. Just ask him a few general questions. Get a feel for him. Could he be the one doing this?”

  “I need you to do this,” Brad said, “I don’t to waste any more time on this guy is he doesn’t even fit what we are looking for.”

  “Alright. I’ll see what I can do,” she finally agreed.

  I sent a guard in with her to make sure she was safe in case this knucklehead started to act up again.

  She wasn’t in there but five minutes before she came back out.

  “No way is this our guy,” she said.

  “You’re sure?” Brad asked.

  “I’ve talked to Brussels Sprouts that were smarter than this guy. He would have to use a map to plan a trip to the bathroom. There is absolutely no way he could have pulled this off.”

  “Okay then. Dan you can book him for assault or cut him loose. It’s your call,” I said.

  “I don’t need any extra work just now. I’ll have him disappear.”

  “Good call. It saves us both some work,” I said.

  While this was going on Ned and Cindy were still working on the cases in the other states, trying to get details and the files sent to us. I knew what the real hold up with some of the places. They had small police departments and didn’t have much experience with crimes of this nature. They had probably done a half-assed job and knew it. They weren’t too anxious to share their incompetency with the FBI.

  **

  Another half day had passed and we had little to show for it. Funny how everything seems to be at a standstill and suddenly a couple of things fall into place one right after the other.

  The first one came from a father of two boys that had been playing in an abandoned junk yard. It had been a recycled truck parts store until they got busted for selling drugs. Now the place sat empty.

  The boys had been just fooling around doing what boys that age always do when they found a new car in the back of one of the semi-trailers. They told the dad who investigated and called the police.

  Dan, Brad and I went to the recycling yard and two cop cars were sitting at the entrance when we pulled up. Two young boys were in the cars. One in the front seat of one car and the other in the front of the other car. They appeared to be having a good time. One of the cops was showing one of the kids what all the stuff did. Cool, I thought. These kids are the future, we need them on our side, not afraid of us.

  We introduced ourselves and did the awkward acting like we would remember each other for more than five minutes. The two boys, Landry and Kyle Styler were twelve and thirteen. It had taken both of them to get the door open on the trailer. That’s when they found the two cars.

  “Two?”

  “Yeah. One in front of the other,” Ben, their father said.

  “Did you touch anything?”

  “Well, I had to grab the door and side to pull myself up. I don’t know how the boys did it but you know kids. They will find a way.”

  “Did you touch the cars?”

  “Maybe the back glass on the Mercedes. I looked inside to see if I could see anything. I don’t think they have been there too long because they are pretty clean.”

  “Have you given your statement and personal information to the officers?”

  “Quite a while ago. We were just waiting in case you need to ask us anything. They boys are having a ball. The two officers are really good with kids. I’ll have to hit them with a tranquilizer dart to get them to go to sleep tonight. This is big stuff,” the dad said.

  “Maybe bigger than you realize. This could be a piece of a much bigger puzzle we are working on. Would you mind if I said something to the boys?” I asked.

  “No. Please,” he replied.

  I walked over to the two boys. It took a while to pry them out of the cars and get them to calm down enough for me to talk to them.

  “Landry and Kyle, I wanted to thank you for going straight to your father and telling him what you found. You two are actually helping us solve a mystery and we are grateful for your help. I am very proud to have met you,” I told them.

  I swear, they both grew a couple of inches taller right in front of me. They did a high-five with the two officers and went away chattering a mile a minute. Good kids. Probably because they have good parents.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  We stood and watched as the cars were slowly brought out of the semi-trailer. The dad had been right. Both cars only had a light coat of dust on them. I walked over to the Mercedes and slid on a pair of latex gloves. The door was unlocked. I didn’t get in but the first thing I noticed was that the air bags had been deployed. The key was still in the ignition as well.

  “Why would the air bags be deployed?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Low impact hit? Maybe he hits the car just enough to make them get out to look at the damage,” Dan offered.

  “Still. Three women get out? I mean, I guess it could work but it seems risky. It could attract attention as well.”

  “Could it have happened while he was putting the cars in the trailer?” Cindy asked.

  “Not likely but I guess it could have happened. He drove the first one in when he killed the first three and then he brought in the second car and accidently hit the first one causing both cars to deploy the air bags but that seems pretty farfetched to me,” I told her.

  “Guessing isn’t going to help much, we need to get these to the lab and let them solve the mystery. We need to focus on getting the information from the cases in Ohio and Kentucky,” Brad chimed in.

  He was right. We would find out more information there than standing here trying to play a guessing game. With any luck the lab would find something of use.

  We drove back to the station not quite as cheery as we had been on the way over. The realization that it was just one more piece of the puzzle uncovered. Tick-tock, our chances of finding them alive was diminishing hour by hour.

  **

  We had only been back to the station a few minutes when I got a call from the ME.

  “Hey Bartoni. You never call, you never write. I feel as if we are drifting apart,” he started out.

  “Yeah, yeah. So you just called to hear my voice is that it?”

  “Not exactly. You might want to do some detective work and come on over and let me show you what the real police do.”

  “What? Are you eating donuts and drinking coffee?”

  “Come my girl. Be enlightened.”

  “This had better be worthwhile,” I warned him before hanging up.

  I knew darn well it was important. Sorenson never calls unless he has found something that will help solve a case. He is the best ME I have ever seen and he is persistent . When something he can't figure out comes in, he will not let it go until he gets to the bottom of it. He has pointed me in the right direction on more than one occasion.

  Because of that, when he calls, I may give him some lip but we both know I’m going to be there.

  “I’m going to see Sorenson. Do you want to come along or keep working on the files?” I asked Dan.

  “I’m so ready to get out of here. I’ll tag along.”

  “Mind if I come?” Brad asked.

  �
��No problem. You met our head ME the last time you were here I believe,” I replied.

  “Yes. A little eccentric but very good at what he does.”

  “The best.”

  We talked about the fact that we could take one thing off the white board’s DON’T KNOW side and put it on the KNOW side. Now we knew where he was dumping the cars. It was something we needed to let the other two states know so they could look for similar things.

  By the time we left the air bag mystery had still not been solved but the lab people were working flat out on it. Speaking of labs, I can’t speak for every police department in the country but I’m willing to bet every one of them has a dress code and spiked collars are probably not on the allowed to wear list. I doubt you can kiss the lab workers on the neck when they do something well either. Hello…does the term sexual harassment ever enter their minds when they write those tv scripts?

  If Dan ever starts trying to kiss me on the neck after an arrest he will find himself working as a traffic cop on a dead end side street. Give me a break.

  We made our way to Sorenson’s office and I swear he was eating a jelly donut and drinking coffee. He was actually drinking it, not like they pretend with empty cups that they use in the movies. He smiled when we came in.

  “You did this on purpose didn’t you?” I said.

  “Heavens no. I do this all day long.”

  “You are such a dweeb sometimes. It’s a good thing you are retiring soon. Maybe they will hire someone that actually does some work around here,” I shot back.

  I really like Doctor Sorenson and trading insults is our way of letting each other know we care.

  “So, you come to learn something? I think your FBI friend may find this educational as well. I know I certainly did,” he said, getting up and wiping his mouth.

  He threw the jelly donut down on the paper with just the one bite taken out of it.

  “I hate those things,” he said.

  I love this old coot. I am really going to miss him. We followed him out into the lab and he uncovered the body of Melody Jameson. I was proud of Dan, he no longer passed out at these things.