“Fucking sin city. I hope you’re good to me,” Fallon mumbled as she snuck out of the room. She prayed she could make it off the train and into the big city where she would hide until she could come up with her next move.
Chapter 8
Sin City
Fallon rushed through one of the train car doors and spilled out onto the station platform. She walked like her life depended on it, dodging the throngs of people that had flooded onto the platform from the train. Fallon was making good strides until she got caught behind a woman struggling with two kids to get on the escalator. Not right now. Fallon tapped her foot impatiently; she could see the blue sky outside which meant her freedom was only feet away from her. All she had to do was make it up the escalator and out onto the street. Fallon whipped her head around to see if there were any police officers roving around. As usual, there were too many to count. Fallon just wanted to get out of there.
“Hurry the fuck up!” Fallon finally blurted rudely. “You don’t know how to fold a fucking stroller by now, damn!” These were precious minutes being wasted that Fallon couldn’t afford spare with all those cops trolling. The woman turned around shocked and appalled by Fallon’s outburst.
“Well, I never,” the woman gasped.
“Well I never have seen a bitch that can’t handle two bratty ass kids. You holding up the line bitch move to the side,” Fallon growled, pushing the woman and her kids out of the way.
Fallon rushed onto the escalator and started walking up the steps. Just as Fallon made it to the top to get off, she locked eyes with a strange looking woman who was on the opposite side taking the escalator down. Fallon didn’t hold the eye contact too long, but a chill shot down her spine and something prompted her to run. Fallon took off running out of the train station. She raced to the first Vegas yellow cab she could find and jumped inside.
“To the strip! Fast as possible! Anywhere on the strip. Matter of fact wherever it’s the busiest…let me out there,” Fallon huffed, looking back over her shoulder. She didn’t see anyone chasing her, but she still couldn’t shake the eerie feeling she’d gotten from the eyes of the woman on the opposite escalator a few minutes prior.
***
Torrence raced off the escalator and barreled forward towards the Amtrak train that had pulled in about six minutes before she arrived. Palmeri was behind her barely keeping up. They had been crisscrossing states for the past twelve hours and he was tired as hell. Palmeri didn’t know how Torrence was doing it. She had to be on some type of energy drug. He made a mental note to tell his chief to have her piss tested because something had to give with this madness. Torrence just would not quit, not even to go home and take a proper shit, shower and shave. Palmeri was hearing all kinds of flak from his wife about his absence as of late but he was too worried about his friend to ditch out on her case.
“Hey! Hey!” Torrence screamed as she ran up on the train’s conductor and driver who were taking a smoke break after the last of their passengers had gotten off the train. “I called ahead and specifically instructed that this train and all of its passengers be held until we arrived!” Torrence barked. The conductor and the train driver looked at one another and laughed. That infuriated Torrence.
“We don’t even know who you are and you look crazy. Amtrak don’t hold people on a parked train for nobody but the President himself. That would be lawsuits waiting to happen,” the conductor relayed.
“U.S Marshall’s service asshole,” Torrence growled, flashing her badge and credentials in the man’s face.
“Sorry ma’am. Like he said, we are not authorized to hold people on the train. If you were looking for a certain criminal you would’ve had to have the police or your own people lined up out here on this platform waiting to nag whoever it was, but us, we don’t lock people on the train,” the train driver explained.
“I can’t fucking believe this!” Torrence shouted, letting her arms fall at her sides defeated. She looked up and down the platform hopelessly. Just like she suspected it was nearly empty. All of the passengers were probably long gone, including Fallon Porter. Torrence dug into her accordion file.
“Have either of you seen this woman on the train? She may be wearing some sort of disguise but take a look anyway,” Torrence huffed. The conductor took the photo of Fallon and stared at it for a few seconds.
“Nope, can’t say that I have. I see over ten thousand faces a day, I wouldn’t remember her if she had come up and kissed me on the lips lady,” the conductor replied. Something about his quick response didn’t sit right with Torrence.
“Look one more time because I know you were the one who went through the cars to collect the tickets. She got typed into the train’s manifest as Annette Baker,” Torrence insisted, shoving the picture in front of the man’s face. The conductor seemed to get uncomfortable.
“Miss, with all due respect, I already said…” he started, but his words were clipped short by ear shattering screams. Torrence, Palmeri, the conductor and the train driver all whirled around simultaneously. More screams cut through the air. The screams were coming from inside of the train.
“That sounds like Consquela,” the conductor yelled rushing towards the sound.
“Consquela?” Torrence asked moving to follow.
“The cleaning lady,” the driver said as he rushed behind the conductor. Torrence and Palmeri were hot on their heels running towards the screams. The way the woman was screaming it had to be a worst case scenario, Torrence reasoned. Torrence had an ill feeling in her stomach that told her right away that Fallon Porter had been on that train.
“Oh my God!” Torrence heard the conductor belt out as she began helping the cleaning lady out of the sleeper car.
“Fuck! No! Gotdamit!” Torrence cursed and punched at the air as she approached the sleeper car that held Dustin’s dead body. From where Torrence and Palmeri stood they could see the man’s lifeless form lying face down; his tongue protruding horrifically from his lips. Consquela was shaking like a leaf in a wild storm. She was rambling in Spanish and flailing her arms wildly. Torrence knew there was no sense in trying to speak to the shaken up woman right now.
“Everybody out! Don’t touch anything just back out of the room. This may be a crime scene. We don’t want to contaminate a possible crime scene” Torrence instructed. The train staff followed her instructions and exited the sleeper car.
“Who would do something like this?” the train driver said to no one in particular.
“Now you see why I asked that the train passengers be held inside? Maybe next time you and your partner there will cooperate,” Torrence replied. She just couldn’t pass up that opportunity to let them know they’d fucked up her investigation.
Palmeri had already dialed up the local police and reported the dead body. Now they’d have to wait for the coroner’s office, local police homicide detectives and the medical examiner to find out who the man was. Torrence had a real strong gut feeling that once they identified that body; the dead man was going to lead her right to her fugitive. Torrence closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to catch Fallon sooner rather than later or she knew the bodies would just keep piling up.
“Is here good?” the cab driver asked Fallon. She looked out of the window. She was in front of the huge replica Sphinx that stood in front of the Luxor hotel. Fallon looked at the crowds of people moving up and down the sidewalk and decided this was it.
“This is perfect,” Fallon answered. The cab driver hit the meter machine button to add up her total for the ride.
“Twenty five dollars,” he said peering at Fallon through the rearview mirror.
“Sure,” Fallon said then she went for her bag to get the cash. Fallon looked left and right. She looked down by her feet to make sure she wasn’t crazy.
“Oh shit! I left my fucking bag on the train! No! No! This can’t be happening to me!” Fallon belted out. Her insides felt like they were grinding against one another. It was one mishap after the other.
Fallon didn’t know how much longer she could stand all of this. The cab driver looked at her with a suspicious look that quickly turned into a scowl.
“Miss, no games. Pay the money now or I call the police. No games,” he threatened his thick Indian accent grinding Fallon’s nerves. “Pay now!” the driver insisted. He was used to these Las Vegas vagabonds playing games. He was kicking himself for picking her up judging from the way she looked.
“Mister just wait and let me explain. Seriously I left my bag on the…” Fallon started, trying her best to keep calm so that the situation wouldn’t escalate. Then, like she’d been hit by a bolt of lightning, Fallon remembered Dustin’s wallet was in her bra. “Oh wait!” she said excitedly. “I have it. I can pay you.” She dug into her shirt and pulled the dead man’s wallet out. She flipped to the back cash billfold but it was empty. Fallon’s shoulders slumped in defeat. How was his rich ass walking with no cash? Think fast Fallon before this musty motherfucker calls the cops.
“Look. Here take these. They are worth at least a thousand dollars,” Fallon said pushing Dustin’s David Yurman cuff links towards the driver. She wasn’t about to give up that Presidential Rolex for a twenty-five dollar cab ride. Fallon figured she could get at least five stacks or more for the watch at a pawn shop.
“No, no, no…cash or credit card only. No trade,” the driver said waving her off. She saw him picking up his cell phone to call the cops on her. Thinking quickly, Fallon took Dustin’s Visa card out of the wallet and swiped it. Holding her breath and praying the whole time; she waited for the approval. When Fallon heard the receipt printing she threw her head back and rested it on the taxi seat for a minute. Thank you God!
“Ah,” she sighed and started breathing again. “There you got your fucking money,” she hissed at the driver.
“Now you go. Out of my cab,” the driver scolded. Fallon couldn’t even argue with him. She was just extremely happy that Dustin’s cards hadn’t been reported stolen or missing yet, which meant she needed to hurry up and go inside the hotel and get a room with it.
Fallon couldn’t keep still as the woman behind the counter pecked on the computer keys. It was taking longer than usual for the woman to find a room and Fallon was getting spooked. She knew from experience that when an establishment knew you were using a stolen credit card they’d try to stall until the police could arrive. Fallon could only hope that wasn’t what was happening. Fallon kept her head low so that all of the cameras that she knew were around the hotel lobby wouldn’t pick up her face. She also made sure she looked around a few times to see if she could notice any cops heading her way.
“Ok, here you go, Mrs. Crawford we have a room for you in our casino tower. That is right over the casino floor so you may hear some noise when it gets busy. Non-smoking, single bed,” the woman said, sliding the key towards Fallon. A warm feeling filled Fallon’s belly and she finally cracked a small smile. Thank God Fallon’s story about being there to surprise her husband worked. It was even better that Dustin had his wife added to all of his accounts and her name was on a card inside the wallet as well.
“Thank you,” Fallon said, quickly snatching the key card. Before she went upstairs, Fallon wandered into the hotel’s stores and gift shops. It was time to change up her look. The store didn’t have much to work with, but it was enough that Fallon could finally get out of the clothes she’d been wearing and Ben’s clothes that she’d put on after his murder; his scent reminded her of him and the trouble he had caused her. Fallon grabbed t-shirts, two pairs of yoga pants, flip-flops, a big floppy hat and some cheap oversized sunglasses. Again she was able to use Dustin’s cards. The only thing left that Fallon needed was some hair dye, but that would require leaving the hotel. Fallon decided she would go into her room to shower and change clothes and then wander out onto the strip and find her next solution. Fallon wasn’t stupid enough to believe that when they finally found Dustin and identified him that they wouldn’t go to his credit card records as part of the police investigation. Fallon’s stay at the Luxor and in Las Vegas period was on borrowed time and she knew it.
The first thing Fallon did when she got inside the room was switch on the television to CNN. Staying ahead of the law enforcement game was paramount at this point. Just like she suspected, there was a news story about her. But this time Fallon heard the name Dayvid Porter, which made her listen more intently.
“Police in at least five states, the Federal Bureau of Investigation and the U.S. Marshall’s Service are all on high alert tonight after yet another member of the infamous Porter clan has escaped police custody today. It has been two weeks since Autumn Porter pulled off a daring and deadly escape from a jail transport bus with the eldest Porter sister, Rain. Not even a week later, another sister Fallon Porter is believed to have bribed several guards at the Baltimore Detention Center to assist her with escaping as well. Today, law enforcement officials are speculating that Dayvid Porter and his high priced attorney brokered a deal with corrupt officials at another maximum security correctional facility in
Maryland to assist Dayvid Porter with his own escape. Officials investigating the break believe the male Porter simply walked out of the jail’s front gates as if he’d been released. Law enforcement officials are warning that all four Porters are considered armed and dangerous. Earlier today, U.S. Marshall Veronica Torrence, who is assigned to capture Fallon Porter, spoke out on this case,
‘We found another dead body thanks to the handiwork of Fallon Porter. She is extremely cunning and may be using her beauty to pose as a prostitute for the purpose of robbing her victims. She has so far shot a police officer and killed two men. We are cautioning the public that if you see this woman that you run far away and contact any member of law enforcement immediately. There is currently a one hundred thousand dollar reward for any information leading to the capture of Fallon Porter.’ That was U.S Marshall Veronica Torrence speaking at a press conference earlier today. Police are in the process of identifying whom they believe to be Fallon Porter’s last victim, a man found strangled to death on an Amtrak train; Reporting live from Las Vegas, Regina Strickland.”
Fallon slumped down on the hotel bed. On one hand she felt happy that Dayvid had gotten away too, but she couldn’t help but think about that U.S. Marshall. Those fucking eyes were unmistakable and etched in Fallon’s mind for good. It was the woman who Fallon had locked eyes with in the train station, which meant Marshall Torrence was there in Las Vegas hunting her.
“That bitch will never catch me,” Fallon grumbled. She closed her eyes and thought of her siblings. She hoped that they were all thinking about her too because they were the only thing keeping her going these days.
Chapter 9
Cat and Mouse
March 2007
Fallon gave the signal, a giggle and the words “you’re cute as a button.” All of her siblings could hear the words since they were all on a cell phone conference call listening to Fallon, who had her cell hidden inside of her bag. It hadn’t taken her any time to lay her game down and get the show on the road as usual. Fallon was a pro and she had succeeded once again at distracting the bank’s security guard. At the same time, she had cased out the tellers and the manager on duty that morning.
Two of the tellers on duty were on the Porter’s payroll and the manager was so high on cocaine his hands were jittery as shit. Fallon had been watching the bank’s employees for weeks now. She knew that the manager had a three hundred dollar a day coke habit and he was stealing from the bank. It was Rain’s job to take care of him as soon as they hit the bank. A cokehead would be light work for Rain, who was a pro at taking advantage of people, like addicts who were not on top of their game.
Dayvid walked into the bank before Rain, their usual protocol just in case there were any customers or guards that wanted to play cowboy. Dayvid always said once shit started going down he’d rather take a bullet or a punch than have any of his sister’s get hurt. He went straight for the teller that Fallon had p
aid to give them the inside scoop. Dayvid acted like he was a run of the mill early morning company. No note, not shouting, nothing was needed, except for the other tellers to be told not to move or Dayvid would blow their brains out.
Rain came in next, dressed in a man’s suit and tie; she headed for the manager’s area as if she was a customer with a problem. Rain’s job was to get the code for precious gems vault and to disable the manager who had the secret alarm trip button somewhere near his desk.
Fallon had already played her position, but now it became more involved. She switched it up real quick on the guard who was acting all in love with her.
“Yeah baby so come over here so I can tell you a secret,” Fallon whispered, her shiny, red painted full lips moving like a hypnotist’s string in front of the guard’s mesmerized eyes. The smitten, fresh-out-of-high-school security guard leaned in with a huge smile painted on his face. He got so close to Fallon she thought he would tongue her down at any minute. His breath smelled like shit, which made it a chore for Fallon to stay close enough to say what she had to say to him.
“Do you feel that?” Fallon asked seductively as she reached towards his crotch. The guard smiled nervously, looking around to make sure none of his co-workers were watching him. “Yeah, I sure feel that,” he whispered, thinking it was Fallon’s hand he felt pressing up against his rock hard dick.
The Circle: Fallon's Story (THE CIRCLE SERIES) Page 12