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ONE TOO MANY - ANGIE BARTONI CASE FILE #9

Page 4

by Marshall Huffman


  “Geez,” Dan muttered.

  “She had been repeatedly sexually assaulted. I took impressions of the bite marks and am running them. The database isn’t very big so I’m not expecting anything great but at least we can catalogue them if nothing else,” Sorenson told us.

  “The marks on her wrists, neck, and legs, I assume are from restraints?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Anything else you can give us? Anything to help find the guy who did this?”

  “Well of course I have his DNA. By the way he is azoospermia,” Sorenson told us.

  “Meaning no sperm,” I said.

  “What?” Dan said.

  “The guy can’t make babies,” Sorenson replied.

  “Oh.”

  “You need to explain the birds and bees to your partner Bartoni,” Sorenson chimed in.

  “I refuse to draw him pictures,” I replied.

  “Hey. Don’t talk about me like I’m not right here.”

  “Did you hear something?” Sorenson said.

  “I didn’t say anything, did you?’

  “Nope, wasn’t me.”

  “Ha-ha. You guys are so funny I forgot to laugh.”

  “The doctor is right about one thing. As a detective you need to know some basic anatomy and medical terminology, especially the difference between azoospermia, oligospermia, sperm motility, and sperm morphology. We often have to testify in court and you need to be able to follow what is being said. Some attorneys try to trip us up by throwing in terms like that,” I told Dan.

  “It’s not often but Bartoni is right. You need to know the basics.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. I’ll read up on it.”

  “You’ll be glad you did,” Sorenson said.

  **

  We were pretty somber again as we drove over to the Powers residence. We had called ahead to let them know we were on our way and of course they wanted to know what we had found. It’s hard to hold out but I just never want to deliver a message like that over the phone.

  They lived in a nice neighborhood that appeared to be relatively new. Most of the trees were not very mature yet. Dan knocked on the door and a woman opened it. She was slightly built and had brown hair that was starting to show streaks of gray.

  “You must be the detectives that called. Please come in,” she said.

  Gee I hated this part. I really do not like going into other people’s homes. It doesn’t seem to bother Dan in the least but I always feel funny about it.

  The inside was much like the outside. Not overstuffed but with good furniture and a few nice paintings on the walls. She led us into the den where a huge fireplace took up all of one wall. It was almost big enough to walk into. The mantel was massive. A recess in the wall held stacks of wood.

  “Can I get you something to drink.”

  “I’m fine,” I replied.

  “I’m good," Dan told her.

  “Where is your husband Mrs. Powers?”

  “Out looking for Alyssa. He has been doing that every day since we got back and found her missing. He gets up at 6:00 a.m. and goes out all day until midnight.”

  “Where is he looking?”

  “Everywhere. He drives for hours checking along ditches and in dumpsters. He knows how bad some people can be and feels this is his fault. He used to be a MP in the service and knows how crazy some people are.”

  “Would you have him come home now please? We have located your daughter. He is wasting his time,” I said and immediately hated myself for the way I had said it.

  I didn’t mean for it to come out quite like that but there it was and I couldn’t do anything about it.

  “Oh dear,” Mrs. Powers said.

  “I’m so sorry to tell you this. We found Alyssa’s body this morning at the Eagle Creek Golf Course.”

  She looked at me and my heart was breaking. Yeah, I’m a big tough cop but the woman seemed to shrink three inches and I could almost swear I saw more hairs start to grey. She was crying silently but it was all I could do to sit there. Suddenly she leaned forward and I had to jump to catch her from falling on the floor. I just held her while she cried.

  “Mrs. Powers. We need to let your husband know so he can come home and be with you,” I said softly.

  She just handed me the cell phone. I passed it to Dan who scrolled through the contact list and dialed Mr. Powers.

  “What?” the voice said gruffly on the other end.

  “Mr. Powers. This is Detective Dan Roberts. We are at your house and would appreciate it if you would come home so we could have a word with you.”

  “I’ve talked to the police. Didn’t do me any good,” he said.

  “Yes sir. I understand but this is about a new development in the case. It would be a big help to us if you came home.”

  It was silent for a few seconds and then he said, “I’m about fifteen minutes away. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Thank you sir,” Dan replied ending the call.

  I helped Mrs. Powers to the kitchen and she made herself a cup of tea. She offered us a drink but we both declined. She showed us some picture of Alyssa that they had obviously been looking at recently. She was a cute little girl, with blond curly hair and blue eyes. She looked like she could be a little feisty but was a good looking teenage girl with no tattoos or piercings that we were aware of.

  A few minutes later we heard the front door open and Mrs. Powers yelled, “We're in the kitchen.”

  Mr. Powers was a big man, almost as big as Dan with huge arms that looked like he worked out regularly.

  “So, what is the news?” he said without preamble.

  “Sir. We found your daughter’s body today at the Little Creek Golf Course.”

  He stood there and looked from me to Dan and then his wife. He was looking but not seeing.

  “My Alyssa?”

  “I’m afraid so. We ran her prints and matched her to the picture you supplied when she was listed as a missing person,” I said.

  “Murdered.”

  “I’m afraid so?”

  “Was she raped?”

  “Mr. Powers none of that changes the fact that she was murdered,” I said trying to lessen the impact.

  “Son of a ...” he yelled and slammed his fist into the wall, smashing through the plaster on both sides.

  He yanked it back again and started to hit the wall again but Dan grabbed his arm and stopped him in mid swing.

  “Mr. Powers. That won’t help and you could end up breaking your hand if you happen to hit a stud. Please sir. I don’t want to see you get hurt any further,” Dan told him.

  He looked at Dan with anger in his eyes and then just as suddenly went limp.

  “You’re right. It won’t bring her back will it?”

  “No sir. It will not,” Dan answered.

  He dropped his arm and walked over and sat down beside his wife. He wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m so sorry Anna. It was my job to protect her and I didn’t do it.”

  She just wrapped her arms around him and they hugged, rocked and cried together. Man, talk about awkward. Dan and I both felt so sorry for them but there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. Well, there was one thing. Find the guy who did this and bring him to justice.

  NINE

  He watched as Heather Armstrong walked along the path leading from the High School to the farthest parking lot. Since she was just sixteen and had only had her license a short time she was assigned to the back lot. Lighting was almost non-existent in that area. He had been watching her for the past week. On one occasion he had actually stood in the lot and watched her get into her car.

  As a cheerleader she was one of the last to leave. They had to stay for the band practice to coordinate with the halftime football game routines.

  His plan was simple. He had found that the KISS method was always the best. Anytime you got too elaborate it only complicated things. He would keep it simple stupid and very little could go wrong
.

  Tomorrow night was always the longest practice since the game was the next day. He would put everything into motion and just like Alyssa, she would learn who the master was.

  **

  We were at the office when my phone rang.

  “Detective Bartoni,” I answered.

  “You need to get caller ID,” Ben said.

  “Oh, sorry. That was my official voice. The precinct really should have caller ID but you know the department of squeak. Never any money to update equipment.”

  “You know, I've never asked you, do you buy your own bullet proof vest?”

  “They issue one to us but it’s certainly not state of the art, especially against anything larger than a .40 cal.”

  “Can you get a better one?”

  “I guess. I never thought about it that much. So, why the call?”

  “I was thinking dinner and whatever,” he said.

  “Uh-huh. It’s the whatever I think you are most interested in.”

  “Hey, that’s not true. I like a good meal and a bottle of wine as well as the next guy,” he protested.

  “And the whatever,” I replied.

  “Okay, that too.”

  “I don’t know if I can make it tonight. We have a dead teenager on our hands. She has been sexually assaulted and murdered. I want the guy who did this.”

  “I heard about that on the news. I didn’t know you had caught the case. Well I guess I had better go buy a good book. I know you. You won’t stop until you get him so maybe you can just call and we can talk.”

  “Yeah. I would like that. You know I’ll be wound tighter than a drum.”

  “Yes you will. You have all of my numbers. If you need me, call anytime.”

  “I will Ben. Sorry. Dinner and whatever sounds delightful,” I told him, “Oh and the flowers are beautiful. You know I actually blushed when I read the card. Can you imagine that?” I asked.

  “I’m not all that surprised. There is a lot more to Angie Bartoni than what you show on the outside. That’s one of the things I enjoy most about you. You’re like an onion with different layers that need to be peeled back to see what is underneath,” Ben replied.

  “An onion?”

  “Don’t make anything out of that young lady. You know very well what I mean. An artichoke if it will make you feel any better.”

  “Just yanking your chain. Listen I need to get going. Thanks for calling and for the flowers. I’ll call you just as soon as we make some headway on this.”

  “Just go get him. Love you Angie,”

  “I know. See you Ben,” I said and hung up.

  I sat there for some time. Why couldn’t I just say ‘I love you too’? What the heck is wrong with me? It’s not all that hard to say and yet I had never once told Ben that I loved him. My problem was I still didn’t know exactly what love was. Maybe I’m just a cold fish.

  “Hey Bartoni. The captain wants to see us,” Dan said, walking over to my desk.

  “Did he say why?”

  “Not to me.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  I knocked on the captain's door.

  “Come,” he yelled.

  “You wanted to see us?”

  “Yes. Close the door,” he said.

  Oooh. That was usually not a good sign. My mind was racing. I hadn’t totaled any cars. Well not recently.

  “I got a call from the Mayor’s office.”

  “And?”

  “It seems that someone at the crime scene took a golf club from one of the players on the course and threw it in the lake. The guy happened to be a friend of the Mayor. Know anything about that?”

  I looked at Dan and shrugged.

  “Don’t know a thing about it. That happened today?”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “Huh. Dan, did you see anything like that happen?”

  “Sorry, I was too busy trying to learn the proper investigative techniques to notice much.”

  “Sorry captain. We can’t help you.”

  He looked at us for several seconds.

  “You know guys, if I had been there and some jerk came up and was more concerned about his stupid golf score than the death of a young woman I would have probably have thrown him and his clubs in the water. Now get out and find the bastard that did this.”

  “Yes sir. Thanks captain.”

  “For what? Now out,”

  Probably the best thing about captain McGregor is that he never forgets what it was like as a cop. He came up through the ranks and it really shows in how he deals with his people. He will smack you down if you need it but he just absorbs the ‘Mickey-Mouse’ stuff that floats down from above.

  **

  Everything was set. He had parked his van just behind Heather’s car. He had already let the air out of the rear tire and was just sitting in his van, watching out from the side mirror. It was dark and her car was almost totally in the shadows.

  He had heard the band stop playing a few minutes ago so he knew it wouldn’t be much longer. He was so excited he was almost bursting inside. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

  A few cars pulled out of the lot and then he saw Heather talking to another girl. No. Don’t take someone with you, he thought. Finally they stopped talking and the other girl went to her car and took off out of the lot. Heather placed her book bag on the top of her car and fished around until she found her keys. She opened the door and started the car.

  He just sat there watching in the mirror. Her lights came on and she started to drive off. Then the brake lights came on. He continued to watch as she climbed out and started looking around at her car. When she got to the deflated one he saw her put her hands on her hips.

  “Shoot,” he heard her say.

  He got out and walked to where she stood. She looked apprehensive as he approached. It was very dark and she couldn’t really make out his features.

  “Car problems?”

  “Doggone flat tire.”

  “Do you know how to change a tire?”

  “No. I’ll have to call someone,” she said reaching in and pulling her backpack out.

  “You do have a spare right?”

  “I guess so.”

  “I can probably change it faster than you can get someone here to help. It won’t take but a few minutes if you have a spare.”

  “In the trunk I guess,” she said digging out her cell phone.

  He opened the trunk and pulled up the tire cover compartment. It had one of those space saver tires.

  “Yep. You have one, jack and everything. Do you want me to do it or to call someone?”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?”

  “Heck no. I would want someone to help my daughter if she was in a pickle like this,” he assured her.

  “I’ll just call my house and let them know I will be late. I doubt my mom and dad are home. They usually go bowling on Thursday nights. One of those league things.”

  “You should let them know. It would help if you held the flash light for me. I have one in my van. It’s right on the passenger side on the floor,” he told her.

  “Okay,” she said and walked over to the van.

  “Got it,” she yelled and turned around.

  It was the last thing she would do for some time.

  He picked up the flashlight, threw her in the back of the van, and taped her mouth, legs and arms before going to her car and turning it off. He searched for her cell phone but couldn’t find it. She had to have it on her. After shutting off the car he wiped down the trunk and door handle.

  He rolled her over and searched the unconscious girl and found her cell phone in the waistband of her cheerleading skirt. He opened the back of the phone, pulled the battery out and threw it as far as he could. The phone wouldn’t do her any good now.

  In the driver’s seat of the van, he looked at his watch. It had taken less than ten minutes from start to finish. He smiled as he drove out of the lot.

  TEN

&
nbsp; “Crime scene report is in,” Dan said handing me a copy.

  “Well this is certainly not worth much. I was pretty sure the flag pole had been cut with a hacksaw. They found over fifty different sets of foot prints but none deep enough for a cast. It’s a green. Of course they were going to find a bunch of different footprints. The cart had been hotwired but they found no prints. They did find blood that matched our vic. Basically they didn’t come up with squat,” I said and tossed it back on the desk.

  “Hey the guy is smart. He wants us to know that. He is going to be a slippery noodle,” Dan said.

  “That’s just ducky,” I replied

  “So now what? Talk to Alyssa’s friends again and see if they remember anything?”

  “It is a waste of time but we need to be doing something. While we are on the way I want to run something else by you,” I told him.

  “Then let’s head out,” he said.

  **

  We had the list of Alyssa’s friends and were headed to the first name on the list.

  “So what do you want to run by me?”

  “I know as sure as the sun is up in the sky that Miller is our killer of all of the Stillwell gang including the latest. We know he drugged James. Propofol is an intravenously administered hyponic-amnestic agent and according to Sorenson that’s what was used. I went back over Millers file and guess what?”

  “I’m anxiously waiting” Dan said.

  “Damn. You’re starting to get as sarcastic as me,” I shot back.

  “I learned from two of the best.”

  “Two?”

  “You and Sorenson.”

  “Pshaw, he is a rank amateur.”

  “Go on. So what did his file say?”

  “He was a pharmacist less than a year ago but was laid off because of drug inventory irregularities. Seems that when they did an inventory several different types turned up missing.”

  “Well that certainly does add a dash of interest to the case. Still, what good does knowing that do us? It won’t get us a search warrant.”

  “I’m thinking a traffic violation stop. They could search the car and if they don’t find anything we try something else.”

 

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