“I know you do sweetheart, and you will. Just as soon as your mommy transfers the money to my account, it will all be over,” Pete said, giving his niece a tender kiss on the cheek.
“You promise, Uncle Pete?”
“I promise. So I'm going to leave you with my friends while I take care of that business. And when it is over, they will take you home. Okay?”
The door closed again, leaving Muffin alone and scared, missing her mommy and her dog Happy.
Chapter Forty Two
Two FBI agents stood vigil at the Parson residence. A heavy set, middle-aged Afro-American man with a bald head and a meticulously groomed mustache and an Asian lady, young and attractive, sat in the family den waiting for the kidnappers to make another call.
Carson and Chuck had stopped by to break the news to the family about the death of Joe Smithson and to find out if the feds were making any progress on the kidnapping of the poor child. “So no news on our missing child, I take?” Chuck said addressing his question to either agent who chose to answer.
The Asian lady said, “No, not a word so far, I'm afraid. But when the kidnappers realize the money was not sent, they'll call. Then we'll see if we can get a trace on them. If that doesn't work, we'll have Mrs. Smithson make the transfer and see where the money leads us. Standard procedure.”
“Well we're following a trail of dead bodies, two so far. So we've got to run. You have our numbers. If you find out anything, please give us a call,” Chuck said, eying the attractive agent.
Back at the office, the detectives took up their usual strategic positions. Chuck jumped on the computer and Carson grabbed the phone. They needed to find out where Lola Perez had disappeared to, and soon, before the trail went cold. Hopefully she wasn't in Mexico or they'd never be able to find her.
Carson was on the phone talking to his buddies at LAPD homicide, while Chuck was checking the immigration database to see if her passport showed her reentering the U.S.
“You don't say, um hum... A young Latino lady found hanging off the fourth floor balcony of the Day's Inn Hotel by the airport. Possible homicide. Got an ID? Thanks. We're on our way up there. Be there in a couple.” Carson hung up the phone and turned to tell Chuck the news.
“Got her. She passed through immigration early this morning, LAX.”
“Yeah and looks like we got another one. The LAPD found her hanging from the balcony of a motel by the airport.”
“What?”
“Feel like a road trip? You can drive.”
“Really? Thanks, Carson.”
Chapter Forty Three
Her restraints started to loosen a bit. Muffin, a very resourceful and intelligent child, smiled and laughed for a moment at the cartoon that was showing, while desperately trying to untie the rope that had her bound to one of room's only two raggedy chairs. She tugged and pulled, and tugged some more. She grew tired and stopped to rest. She wanted to cry, but what good would it do. This was no time for tears, this was time for action.
Looser and looser, she felt the knot coming untied, then she would see about making her escape. She would sneak pass those goons in black and be gone before they knew what happened. One more pull and the rope magically fell to the floor. Even though it was her plan, she felt amazed at seeing her binding lying on the floor and her hands free to untie the one that was around her ankles.
Though free, she felt apprehensive, afraid to get up out of the chair. Fear gripped her monetarily, but it was fleeting and soon she was up and checking to see if the door to the room she had been held captive in was unlocked.
She turned the knob and found it was indeed unlocked. She had to be cautious, not knowing the whereabouts of the men in black. Cracking the door ever so slightly, see peeked out. She could hear the sounds of laughter and a video game in the next room. She opened the door a little wider.
Sitting on a couch in the next room were the two idiots that were supposed to be watching her, playing a video game, oblivious to the fact that their captive was now free. Muffin smiled to herself as she eased out of the door and closed it ever so quietly. Her heart beat faster, she was scared to death, but she was determined to make her escape. Unexpectedly she saw her cell phone sitting on a table, it was pink and unusually decorated, so she recognized it immediately.
Still at their competition, and still not paying any attention, the men played their silly game unaware to the reality of the fact that a half a million dollars was retrieving her phone from the table and making her escape out the front door unnoticed.
The fresh air felt good on Muffin's face as she ran as fast as she could away from the house, down the street, confused as to where she was, but running for her life nonetheless. She would figure out where she was later on, but for now she just wanted to get away, away from her captors and somewhere she could call her mommy.
After running for what seemed like a hour she stopped breathless. She looked at her phone, still not believing she actually had it and hit the speed dial.
“Mommy!”
Chapter Forty Four
The coroner was just finishing up as Chuck and Carson entered the motel room, alive with CSI, detectives and forensic experts. Carson saw an old buddy of his who was unfortunate enough to have pulled the case. “Hey Blank, what's up?”
Fred Blankenship was the detectives name. He was a fifty something, Afro-American with a full head of salt and pepper hair, still sporting a retro seventies style. The other cops called him “Blank”, a shortened version of his name and also because of the blank look he always seemed to have on his face. “Carson, my man,” Blank said as he shook hands and hugged Carson.
Carson introduced Chuck to Blank and they shook hands without the hug.
“So what's your interest in this poor girl? Terrible thing, just terrible, beautiful girl and young too.” Blank asked.
“Well, for two reasons. She's a suspect or was a suspect in a murder case we're working and also a link to a kidnapping case. We were hoping to get some clue as to who killed her. Probably the same individual or individuals who kidnapped a thirteen year old girl from her school yesterday,” Carson replied, looking around as they carried the girl's body out on a coroner's stretcher.
Blank shook his head as he watched the girl go by. “What a pity. Beautiful girl. Such a beautiful girl.”
Chuck who had been silent thus far letting the old friends talk inquired, “You got any leads yet detective?”
“No, no, not yet. The girl got the room in her own name, paid cash. The day manager at the desk didn't see anyone going up to the room and no one asked what room the girl was staying in. Guess we'll have to wait and see if the forensics folks and the CSI people come up with anything, 'cause right now I've got a big fat zero.
“So they're ruling the cause of death a homicide, right Blank?” Carson asked his ole buddy. “Wasn't a suicide?”
The detective sporting his usual blank expression and rubbing his chin answered, “No. The coroner said someone tried to make it look like a suicide but in his expert opinion the girl was murdered.”
“Okay, looks like we made a wasted trip. Nothing here that's going to help us, Carson.” Chuck said looking somewhat frustrated.
“Yeah, I think you're right partner. You up for an In and Out before we head south?”
“Oh Yeah.”
They were heading for their unit when Carson's cell rang. “Carson... Are you kidding me... In L.A.?” Carson pulled a pen and pad out of his pocket. “Give me the address. LAPD is on the scene. All right my partner and I are heading over as we speak.”
Carson motioned at Chuck to get in the car, and in a hurry.
“What's up?”
“Get in. I'll fill you in on the way.”
Chuck listened in amazement as Carson recanted the story of how the girl had escaped and called her mother. And the most amazing thing was she actually was able to lead the cops to the house where the kidnappers had held her hostage. Amazing for a child so young. Even
more incredible the girl had said her uncle Pete was behind he whole thing.
LAPD was just battering down the door as the detectives arrived. Since they were out of their jurisdiction Carson and Chuck hung back and watched the scene unfold. The whole thing went down without a shot being fire and in a few minutes the team came strolling out with two men dressed in black in cuffs.
Blank and his partner arrived and were watching the same scene play out, standing right next to Carson and Chuck. “You think your kidnapping is connected to our dead girl Carson?” Blank said with his usual expression.
“Yeah, I think it is Blank. I think all these events are connected. The Smithsons, what a family of misfits,” Carson grumbled.
“According to the girl, her uncle Pete is behind the kidnapping. So I think we should pay the good uncle a visit. What you think Carson?” Blank asked.
“I think you're right Blank. I think this Pete could be the key to the whole enchilada. You got an address?”
“You betcha.”
“Let's roll. You lead and we'll follow.”
Chapter Forty Five
The USNS Walter S. Diehl, Michael's ship, had finally and thankfully pulled back into port at Akasaki fuel pier in Sasebo, Japan. The ship was in port for a few days to refuel, resupply and head on back out to sea. They were attached to the George Washington, carrier battle group as duty oiler, and their schedule had been quite hectic.
Michael was thinking about calling his step-son Danny and his alibi witness, Sherry, when his J-phone's ring tone went off. “Hello... What? Are you kidding me? Is she all right? How could this happen?”
Mary was on the other end of the line, trying to explain the situation over the loud almost party atmosphere at the Parson residence. “She's okay, dear. She escaped, can you believe it? And here's the crazy part. She says her Uncle Pete was behind the whole thing.”
“Pete? But why?”
“He wanted Valerie's insurance money. The half million dollars. Can you believe he would do such a thing. And Joe is dead too.”
“Joe is dead?”
“Yeah, they think his girl friend Lola, poisoned him. She was in on a plan with Pete. Now they think Pete killed the girl. Oh my God, what a mess. All I know is, little Muffin is safe and back at home.”
“Yeah, thank God she's safe. Look I've got to go. I'm running out of minutes on this crappy Japanese phone, so I'll have to call you back. Tell everyone, I love and miss them and I'll see ya'll in a month of so. Talk to you later. Bye.”
Hanging up the phone, Michael didn't know what to think about the latest developments. Killing Charles had started a firestorm, that he was responsible for. It was never his intention, but his actions had created a monstrous situation.
Immediately after hanging up from his wife, Michael placed a crucial call to his step-son Danny. “Danny, what's up? Cops been snooping around?”
“Grouch, you hear about Muffin?”
“Yeah, I just got finished talking to your mother. Now back to my question.”
“No, I haven't heard anything, why?”
“Just wondered, that's all. No particular reason.”
“Grouch, is there something you're not telling me? 'Cause you seem awful worried about the cops.”
“No, no. Just stick to your story and everything will be cool. All right.”
Michael felt a little bit better after talking to Danny. Next he called his alibi witness and made sure she had her story straight. After hanging up, he felt he had his ducks in a row. He had committed the perfect crime. Nothing could go wrong. At least that's what he kept telling himself.
Needing some air, he grabbed his wallet and headed for the gangway. It was time for the five o'clock bus to the base. Maybe he would grab a beer at the club and try and shake the blues that had a grip on him. Maybe a few beers would help him sleep through the night. He thought about confessing his terrible crime, but the thought of spending the rest of his life in prison was not something he even wanted to consider. It was going be all right. A jury still had to convict him beyond a reasonable doubt, even if the detectives on the case actually were able to follow the trail leading to him. He had covered his tracks well. Let them try and catch him. He had the answers to any question they might ask. No way they could ever link him to the murder.
At his table at Club Galaxy, he checked his hot mail and surfed the internet for a while. The first beer went down smoothly, so he got another.
Chapter Forty Six
A big celebration was in progress at the Parson house. The FBI and the cops had gone, thankfully. Muffin was back home, it was over. She was the hero of the day, having escaped her captors, she had led the police to where she had been held, which facilitated the subsequent arrest of the suspects and alerted the police and FBI to the harsh reality that her Uncle Pete was behind the whole horrendous crime.
Happy barked joyfully at his little friend's return and licked Muffin on the face. She threw one of his chew toys into the den and he ran to fetch it, bringing it back to her and waiting to play some more. Everything was back to normal, well at least as normal as it could be under the circumstances.
Muffin's daddy was dead and she of all the family loved him the most. They didn't understand him like she did. She was like him in many ways, she felt great sadness, almost overwhelming grief, like a part of her had died along with her dad.
She remembered the games they used to play, when she was a little girl, back when they were a family. How he used to hold her in his lap for hours, how secure and safe she felt there in his arms. Now he was gone forever. The seven years he was missing she knew in her heart he would return some day and he did, but now, he was gone, he wouldn't be coming back this time.
“Come on Muffin, and cut your cake,” her mom called from the kitchen. They had bought a special homecoming cake to celebrate Muffin's safe return.
Muffin coming back to reality said, “Okay, mommy.”
Valerie gave Muffin a big hug and kiss as she came into the kitchen to cut her cake. This day was better than any birthday or Christmas could ever be. The whole family, along with a house full of friends and neighbors cheered as Muffin did the honors.
Giving Muffin another big hug, Valerie asked tenderly, “You all right, baby? Don't worry, I'm sure the police will capture your evil Uncle Pete. He'll never hurt you again.”
Chapter Forty Seven
Chuck and Carson, along with Blank and his partner and a few uniforms, pulled up in front of the address they had for Pete Smithson. The house looked like an old castle, nestled in behind a grove of various types of trees and elaborate landscaping. “Is this the joint?” Carson asked somewhat surprised by the appearance of the place.
Chuck just as mystified as Carson said, “I guess. Odd looking place, huh?”
Blank waved at Chuck and Carson, to come on, as he and his partner got out of their unit. He had his gun drawn, so Carson and Chuck upholstered their weapons as they eased out of their car. Blank motioned for them to disperse as four uniforms came up to join them.
“Remember,” Carson said, “We need to question this guy. So let's try and take him alive.”
“I agree, but if he starts shooting, we're gonna have to take him down,” Blank replied, checking his weapon for rounds.
They moved closer to the house, which was huge with bars on the windows and wrought iron on the door. “This place looks like a fortress,” Chuck whispered, as they crept toward the castle. He pointed at the what looked like cameras, mounted on the brackets that swiveled. “I'll be. This guy's got surveillance cameras.”
The plan was to announce that the cops had the place surrounded, there was no escape and Pete Smithson should come out with his hands up. That was the plan. Turned out not to be a very good one.
Little did the cops know, Pete was not alone, and he had no intention on coming out quietly. He had an arsenal of automatic weapons and RPGs, not to mention a couple of Uzis, fully loaded. Tony Montana, didn't have nothing on this
guy.
Blank had his bullhorn, ready to make the announcement, when out of nowhere a RPG blew up one of the black and whites, parked in front of the house. The loud explosion and the sudden rush of black smoke and fire shocked the heck out of the officers and they immediately returned fire, not even knowing what they were shooting at.
“This is the LAPD, you're surrounded. Come out with your hands up. I say again, Mr. Pete Smithson, this is the LAPD...” Blank blared over the horn, but his announcement was cut short by automatic rifle fire, the bullets whistling by his head. “Holy crap. This guy ain't kidding around.”
Again the officers returned fire. Their rounds seemed to just bounce off of the house, like it was bulletproof. “Hold your fire,” Blank yelled. Turning to Carson he conceded, “I think it's time to call SWAT. This guy's got an arsenal in there.” Picking up his radio to call for backup, a bullet whistled by his head, striking a nearby tree.
A barrage of small arms fire continued to rain from the house, keeping the detectives and the uniform officers penned in position. Luckily, no one had been hit, but until the SWAT team got there they weren't going anywhere.
Finally the team showed up, and took their positions. First they had to ascertain where the shooter was located. The rounds seemed to be coming from a second story window. The commander ordered his snipers to take position, in hope they could get a shot at the maniac that had reeked havoc on the cops for almost two hours.
The snipers took up positions and waited for the order and the opportunity to make a shot. A mechanical battering ram, resembling an army tank, pulled up and waited to be called upon to batter down the front door. It was time to enter and take the shooter down. The team waited for the go signal from the SWAT commander.
The call came over the radio, “It's a go.”
Seven Years After Page 10
